#jitterbug x grub

[pollenallergie]

Eddisms

The much more aptly named sequel to “Eddie-isms”

As always these hc are miscellaneous and not in any particular order. Enjoy!

best friend!Eddie masterlist

reblogs are most appreciated!! :)

taglist: @gaysludge @heavymetalbabyy @luvrsbian @munsonology @tayhar811 @stolen-in-moonlight

Eddie is so insufferably loud in every single thing he does. It’s honestly a mystery how he managed to sneak up on Chrissy because that man can be heard from miles away. He’s so heavy-footed when he walks that it rattles the trailer a little bit from time to time. Nothing about that man is deft or graceful. <3

He snores and I mean SNORES. He always has, even as a little kid. At first, his snoring scared the crap out of Wayne, but now it’s just sort of become background ambience for his uncle. Wayne almost finds it reassuring, in a way; at least Eddie’s breathing, right? <3

Despite what Dustin says, Eddie has a very short temper. Granted, it takes a lot for him to get truly angry, but it doesn’t take much at all to get him cranky. In fact, Eddie’s just as much of a mean girl as Steve. Though he lacks Harrington’s resting bitch face, he’s absolutely just as bitchy. <3

Eddie’s always been obsessed with cars, but not in the way you might think. He doesn’t really give a shit about the typical sports cars or anything like that, what he finds the most fascinating are the niche, funky-looking cars. Citicars, Firebirds, Scarabs, he loves ‘em all. He’s especially a fan of station wagons and vans, probably because those were the kind of cars your mom always drove. His favorite of all time has to be the 1948 Tasco because it combines his favorite types of cars; weird looking ones and vans. He won’t ever admit it to anyone but you and Wayne, but he also really likes pick-up trucks; specifically the old, somewhat worn ones like Wayne used to have. <3

Eddie definitely had race-car bed sheets growing up. Honestly, he still uses them in the winter because they’re a lot warmer than his usual sheets. <3

He asked Santa for a race-car bed for six years in a row. For his ninth birthday, he finally got one. Though it was a hand-me-down from your older brother, he loved it like it was brand new. <3

As kids, you and Eddie used to “rescue” (kidnap) wild turtles and beg your mom and Wayne to let you keep them. <3

When he was six, Eddie got kicked out of little league baseball for mooning the umpire. </3

Eddie doesn’t use 3-in-1 shampoo, he does something way worse. He uses Irish Spring on every square inch of his body; hair included. His scalp is practically pleading for death at this point. <3

Eddie doesn’t see the point in using lotion, so he simply doesn’t. The most he’ll do is use vaseline on his lips when they get all dry and cracked in the winter. <3

Eddie’s routine is so simplistic that it’s really not much of a routine at all and, yet, it takes him nearly an hour to get ready every morning. Does that at all make sense? No. Nothing about this man makes sense, he’s an enigma, a silly lil enigma. Well, not so much of an enigma… The reason it takes him so long to get ready is because he moves like a sloth in the morning, getting ready in 0.25x speed due to his residual sleepiness. <3

Eddie watched Zardoz and made it his entire personality for like two years. Seriously, he quoted it non-stop for two years straight. <3

Eddie has a thing about toenails. Not feet in general, just toenails. They absolutely disgust him. He gags every time he cuts his own toenails. So, yeah, Eddie’s the kinda man to chew with his mouth open and belch in your face just for shits and gigs, but cower in fear when he’s faced with a human toenail. <3

I know I already said that Eddie cries when he watches emotional movies (The Color Purple, Old Yeller, etc.), but here’s the thing about Eddie… He’ll sob like a baby while watching those movies, sure, but while he’s actively sobbing he’s also making fun of you for doing the exact same thing. He’s like “You’re such a crybaby. *sniffle* It’s not even that sad. *sniffle, sniffle* God, who cries during the happy parts of movies?? *sob*” <3

Eddie used to steal your clothes so much that eventually you just cleared out a drawer in your dresser and filled it with clothes that you were willing to share with him. Of course, your clothes are too big for such a lithe lil stringbean like Eddie, but he still loves wearing them. You don’t mind much, though, because you get to reap the benefit of your comfiest t-shirts and sweatpants smelling like Eddie. <3

In direct response to you making a drawer for him in your dresser, Eddie went out, bought a bunch of comfy clothes in your size from Goodwill, and filled a drawer of his dresser with them, that way you’d both have drawers of shareable clothes at your respective homes. <3

One time Eddie walked into the living room wearing a baby pink t-shirt with some CareBears and a vibrant rainbow printed on the front, and Wayne almost keeled over from laughing so hard. His amusement was doubled when he noticed the matching pastel scrunchie in his nephew’s hair, something Eddie had also “borrowed” from you. <3

Eddie’s weirdly into soap operas, especially Dynasty. The man loves Dynasty. However, he’ll only watch soap operas when he’s high because he thinks it makes for a better viewing experience. <3

Eddie never wears boxers underneath his sweatpants nor under his pajama pants. Why? Because he’s a whore. Because he firmly believes that you should only wear underwear with uncomfy pants (for example, jeans) and that cozy pants do not warrant underwear; it’s just a waste of good, clean boxers to wear them beneath sweatpants and pajama pants. <3

All of Eddie’s shirts are either just a bit too tight or entirely too big for him. This man does not know his real shirt size. <3

Eddie does not wash his feet when he showers. He also rarely washes his arms or legs. He feels that you really only need to wash the “essential” parts when you shower; the essential parts being his armpits and naughty bits. <3

Eddie once got you a purse for your birthday… sort of. Really he just haphazardly sewed one of the straps from his backpack onto an old, cloth sack and painted the words “Miguel Cores” on the front of it. It actually works really well as a reusable grocery bag for all of your nonperishables. <3

Eddie’s right eye gets all twitchy after sleepless nights. The boys always see it and think that he’s pissed off about something, but really the sweet man just needs his rest. <3

Eddie sucks at holding grudges. I’m not kidding, the man is genuinely horrible at holding grudges, mostly because he often forgets about whatever has happened within a few days; his anger vanishing along with the memory of what’s transpired. Case in point, you both had a severe falling out during the summer before your freshman year, which ended up in the two of you being at odds for two whole years. Or, rather, it ended up in you being mad at him for nearly two years. Eddie, however, consistently kept forgetting that you were mad at him during that time. In fact, he would often approach you in the halls of Hawkin’s High so that he could banter with you like he had in middle school, only to be reminded of your steadfast dislike of him by your short responses, refusal to meet his gaze, tense posture, and clipped tone. </3

He chews his gum like a cow munches on grass, just annoyingly loud and with his lips constantly smacking together. <3

Eddie’s fancy, old-fashioned silver lighter -the only good thing he ever got from his shitty old man- also doubles as his preferred fidget toy. The man always needs to have something to do with his hands. <3

He’s a wizard with some sidewalk chalk. It used to drive you crazy as a kid because he would always do these really detailed drawings with the crumbly chalk that your mom got from the dollar store, meanwhile you were always just stuck writing your name or drawing hearts and stick figures. <3

At 10 years old, Eddie invented his own language while cooped up in the back seat of his uncle’s car on an annoyingly long summer road trip to Myrtle Beach. He hasn’t taught the language to anyone, not even to you, but sometimes you’ll hear him mumble things to himself in his strange tongue. You, Wayne, and your mom have picked up on the meanings behind certain words and phrases over the years, simply because he uses them so frequently, but other than that, it’s mostly gibberish to the three of you. <3

Eddie spent a solid two months trying to convince his elementary school crush that he was, in fact, Mick Jagger. He even nailed the Mockney accent from listening to his radio interviews. Unfortunately, they weren’t buying it. <3

Eddie refuses to touch you when/if you’re wearing anything made out of velvet simply because the feeling of velvet makes his skin crawl. So, no hugs, no playful wrestling, and absolutely no cuddles while you’re wearing velvet. <3

In the summer of ‘85, Eddie won a goldfish at one of the carnival games at the local fair and named him Tater Tot, but he knew that he couldn’t afford all the stuff the little guy needed to stay alive, so he gave him away to some little girl that had been trying to win one of her own for nearly an hour. <3

Let’s be real here for a second: Eddie’s not straight. Actually, due to a lack of terminology available to him, Eddie doesn’t really know what he is. He knows that he likes women, he knows that he likes men, and he knows that he likes people who are neither women nor men, but, given that it’s the 80s and he lives in rural Indiana, he’s not really sure if there’s a word for that. Truthfully, he’s not really sure if anyone else in the world even feels the same way that he does. Obviously, there are tons of people out there with the same sexual orientation as him, but, fuck, he doesn’t know that. When he was much, much younger he felt incredibly isolated and insecure about his sexuality, but as he’s grown up he’s become less unsure of himself and more accepting of his sexual orientation. Of course, he still likes to keep a low profile, at least when it comes to his sexuality, because, as I said, it is the 80s and he does, indeed, live in rural Indiana. However, he’s at least become confident enough to come out to his closest friends and family. Hence, the rainbow mug in the Munsons’ famous mug collection. <3

Eddie’s a crafty lil goblin, he loves to craft. Papier-mâché, fuck yeah. Hot glue, hell fuckin’ yeah. In fact, many of the props in the theatre room were crafted by Eddie during his time at Hawkins High. Even after he stopped doing theatre, he still always volunteered to help the drama club set up for their performances and craft their props. <3

“But why did he quit theatre?” one may ask. Well, there was the Great Egg Incident of ‘82, in which a bunch of upperclassmen (mostly jocks) literally threw eggs at the drama club during their spring production of Guys and Dolls. More specifically, their onslaught began right as Eddie began uttering his most iconic line in the show, “Nicely, nicely, thank you,” so Eddie, understandably, took that pretty personally. As a result, he left the drama club at the end of sophomore year and, instead, opted to focus all of his creative energy on the hellfire club. </3

You and Eddie took the same art class senior year and it was honestly one of the only classes he passed that year. Every Friday, you guys had to turn in a weekly sketch for that class and his favorite one that he’d done was of you; he’d drawn it while you were working on homework together at the picnic table near his trailer. At the end of the year, he’d asked the teacher for it back so that he could keep it. <3

Eddie’s a massive worrywart when it comes to the people he loves, that’s especially true when it comes to you. <3

Eddie once risked further social ostracism to help you take the little kids you babysit to Build-A-Bear when Starcourt Mall first opened up. In the end, you rewarded him by making him a stuffed animal of his own, a spotted dog named Ozzy who’s adorned in the most metal (or metal-adjacent) outfit Build-A-Bear had to offer. Perhaps that shouldn’t have been so rewarding for a 19 year old guy, but 1) he’d never really had many toys growing up, at least none quite as nice and soft as Ozzy the Dog, and 2) watching you kiss the little cloth heart before gently stuffing it inside the toy did funny little things to his supposedly cynical heart. He’ll never admit it, but he sleeps with that stuffed dog far more than a guy his age probably should. <3

Although Eddie never makes his own bed, he’ll gladly help you make yours because he knows that fitted sheets are the bane of your existence. <3

#let me know if you want me to expand on the time when you & Eddie went through a friendship breakup #… and subsequent friendship makeup #eddie munson #eddie munson hcs #eddie munson hc #eddie munson x reader #best friend eddie #best friend au #best friend!eddie #best friend!eddie munson #jitterbug and grub #jitterbug x grub #eddie munson thoughts #eddie stranger things #eddie munson blurb #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things vol 4 #stranger things headcanon #stranger things hc #eddie munson headcanons #jitterbug & grub #best friend!eddie munson x reader #pol’s greatest hits

[pollenallergie]

The Dunes | e.m.

A/N: Reposting this because I tweaked the ending a lil bit... hehe. Also, “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” didn’t come out until 1979, so (realistically), you and Eddie would’ve been almost in high school by the time it came out and, therefore, would not have spent your whole childhood singing along to it. However, it’s my (midwestern) family’s road-trip anthem so I had to include it. Thank you @chainsawmunson for beta-reading this!!! Ily <3

Word Count: 6.0k

CW: Adult themes (cursing, smoking weed, etc.; however, nothing smutty happens nor is anything smutty discussed beyond a brief, undetailed mention! I tried to make this as ace friendly as possible, but please let me know if there's something I can do better next time, in that regard!!).

18+ only!!

mdni

“It’s this exit, right, bunny?” Eddie asks.

“Um,” you pause to look down at the map and then up at the road signs ahead. “Yeah, this one,” you confirm. 

Eddie merges into the correct lane as he resumes his solo performance of Creeping Death, strumming his calloused thumbs along the worn leather of the steering wheel like it’s the strings of his beloved guitar. 

“How close are we now, bug?” Eddie asks. 

You check the map before replying, “54-ish miles.” 

Eddie huffs out a brief chuckle, “Ish?” 

“Yeah, it could be 53 or 54, but it’s definitely not more than 55,” you explain while grinning cheekily. 

“Dude, you’re a horrible navigator,” Eddie teases. 

“Hey, I told you we should’ve brought the guys with us,” you say defensively, though there’s no real bite behind your words. 

“This is probably gonna be our last vacation together, bug, so excuse me for wanting to spend some one-on-one time with my favorite person in all of Indiana,” Eddie remarks dryly. 

“Oh, I didn’t realize Roxanne had finally moved to Chicago,” you tease, referencing the bartender from the Hideout that you suspect he’s had the hots for since Corroded Coffin first started playing there last fall. Not that you’d blame him for being attracted to her; she’s everyone’s type. Roxy may very well be ten years your senior, but she looks like she hopped straight out of the pages of one of Eddie’s Heavy Metal magazines; as a bottle blonde with tan skin, long, slender legs, heaving breasts, and an affinity for red leather, she’s the very definition of the beauty standard.

Eddie rolls his eyes and reaches across the console to gently shove your shoulder as he grumbles, “Shut up.” 

You giggle at his response, but the joyous sound dies in your throat when you remember something Eddie had said previously. 

“Grub, why would this be our last vacation together?” You ask curiously. 

“Because, Jitterbug,” he sighs before continuing, “in a couple of weeks, you’ll be off in Michigan, meeting all sorts of cool people who are into all the same stuff as you, and you’ll forget all about little ole me,” Eddie explains, feigning lightheartedness as he does so. 

“Eddie-” You begin to refute his assumptions, but he soon interrupts. 

“Bunny, it’s fine, really. I mean, we always knew this was gonna happen; you’d go off to some amazing university after high school, and, for one reason or another, I’d have to stay behind in Hawkins. I just wanna soak up the last little bit of time we have together, okay?” 

“Eddie,” you sigh, moving your hand to rest on Eddie’s thigh, only to immediately remove it when you feel his muscles tense underneath your palm. “Eddie,” you start again, this time without the physical contact, “you’re an idiot if you think that moving a couple hundred miles away is really gonna be enough to make me forget about you. Seriously, I can’t even go a week without talking to you. What do you think I’ve been saving up all that change in my piggy bank for? It’s so I have enough quarters to call your dumbass while I’m away at school,” you reassure him while also teasing him a bit to lighten the mood. 

“And here I thought you were saving up to win me that stuffed elephant from the claw machine at Benny’s,” Eddie jests, and you snort at the thought. 

“That thing’s been in there since we were ten, otter. I don’t think winning it is even possible,” You reply. Eddie’s heart flutters fondly at your childhood petname for him, one that even predates Grub, inspired by the time you’d watched a seven-year-old Eddie consume a dozen Otterpops one hot July afternoon.

Eddie grins, “Maybe not for you; you suck at claw machines.”

You scoff, “Dick.” 

“I know you are, but what am I?” Eddie responds immaturely while the both of you fight off matching amused smirks. 

Eddie covertly glances at you out of the corner of his eyes, a bittersweet feeling stirring in his chest. He misses you already, and you haven’t even left yet. Pathetic, he thinks. 

Soon enough, the next track on Eddie’s road trip mixtape begins to play, and a grin lights up your features as the sound of Charlie Daniels’s voice fills the entire van. 

Eddie begins to sing along to The Devil Went Down to Georgia, the song the two of you had spent the better half of your childhoods singing along to, thanks to Wayne. And just like that, any and all thoughts of your impending departure are gone. 

Just a little under an hour later, the two of you arrive at Dunewood. After an essential stop at the campground’s convenience store for some ice cream sandwiches, you’re ready to set up camp. You and Eddie have come here every summer since you were small, but it’s different this time. This time, it’s just you and Eddie, as Wayne couldn’t come along due to a busy schedule at work. Getting up here was quite a feat given that Beverly Shores is quite a ways away from Hawkins and that, between the two of you, you guys have absolutely zero sense of direction once you get out of Hawkins. However, unpacking your equipment and setting up camp should be a breeze, as you both have prior experience with setting all of this crap up, thanks to the fact that Wayne always made the two of you help him set up camp. 

Although, what should be the case and what actually is the case, apparently, aren’t always aligned. 

“Dude, are you helping me or what?” You huff out frustratedly as you attempt to haul the packed-away tent out of the back of Eddie’s van on your own. Meanwhile, your less-than-helpful best friend is reclining in the front seat, still munching away on his melting ice cream sandwich. The sticky sweet ice cream is dripping down onto his beloved Black Sabbath band tee, making a mess in a way that might be goofily adorable if he were a toddler, but, alas, he’s a man, a messy man, but a man nonetheless. 

“Mhm, yeah, I’ll be there in a second,” he replies nonchalantly before turning up the radio’s volume as if attempting to drown out the sounds of your complaining with Rob Halford’s eerie growls. He begins to headbang to the rowdy music, further solidifying that he will not get out of the van to help you anytime soon. 

You groan exasperatedly as you lug the heavy tent closer to the stone fire pit while managing to keep it a reasonable distance from where a hearty fire will rage on later in the night. As you squat down to unzip the bag the tent is kept in for storage, you unknowingly bless your dear best friend with a marvelous view of your denim-clad ass, the fat there causing the fabric to strain to the point where it looks as if your favorite pair of jean shorts may rip right along the tight seam. 

As he finishes off the last of his ice cream sandwich, Eddie resists the urge to continue ogling you, instead averting his gaze and opting to focus all of his attention on staring aimlessly out the windshield of his van while thinking about truly horrid shit in an attempt to prevent a tent of his own from forming in his jeans. Fortunately, that tried and true strategy never fails him. Unfortunately, it does require him to think about the time he had to dissect a fetal pig in junior-year biology; if Eddie thinks about it for too long, he swears he can still smell the formaldehyde along with the scent of his lab partner’s raging B.O. 

Once Eddie’s reigned his inner horndog back in, he turns the key in the van’s ignition, fully turning off the vehicle, before climbing out of the driver’s seat to finally offer you some help with setting up camp. 

“Alright, alright,” Eddie huffs humorously, “Give that to me before you break it,” he teases, referring to the poles of the tent that you’re trying to snap together. You briefly pause your attempts to glare at him. 

“I’m not gonna break it, asshole,” you reply bitterly before finally managing to snap the pieces together. Once you do so, you look up at Eddie and fix him with a victorious grin. 

“Why don’t you start the fire so we can eat dinner when we finish setting up all this stuff?” You suggest before fixing your friend with a mischievous smile and continuing, “Leave the hard stuff to the men, sugar.” 

Eddie scoffs at your teasing but heeds your request nonetheless, going to fetch the firewood your dad had reluctantly given him, some logs cut from the unfortunate trees that weren’t good enough to sell at the farm this past Christmas season. 

“Leave the hard stuff to the men, sugar,” he mumbles in a silly tone, clearly mocking you as he grabs a couple of logs from the van, causing you to cackle. Eddie scowls and blushes, mildly embarrassed as he wasn’t aware that you could hear his mockery from your spot across the campsite. The expression on his face only makes you laugh harder, and you don’t stop until Eddie gets petulant and throws one of the towels he’d brought for the beach at you. 

After that playful spat, you both fall into a comfortable silence, too concentrated on your respective tasks to hold a conversation with each other. It isn’t until Eddie has successfully set up the fire and starts getting the food you’d both prepared ahead of time out that either one of you speaks again.

“Hey, Grub?” You call out to him from your spot near the still partially unassembled tent. Eddie responds with a soft hum as he continues to rifle through the cooler he’d filled with food and drinks. 

“Don’t put the food on yet. The tent’s still not ready yet,” you inform him. 

Eddie then shuts the cooler with an annoyed huff, leaving the food inside the chilled box as he comes over to join you. 

“It would be if you would’ve just let me take care of it,” he nags as he squats down to help you finish setting up the tent. 

You scoff, “Yeah, right, it would’ve taken you twice the amount of time just to figure out how to put this shit together simply because you refuse to read instruction manuals.” 

“Incorrect,” Eddie defends himself, “it would’ve taken me half the time to put this shit together because I wouldn’t have wasted so much time reading the pointless instructions.” 

“Says the man who just put our rainfly on before the tent body,” you tease as you stand up and strip the bright blue fabric off the tent. 

“Does it really matter what order we put this shit on? I mean, so long as it’s on there, we’re good, right?” Eddie asks, standing up with his hands on his hips as he assesses the situation, discerning what’s left to do. The shit-eating grin on his face tells you he’s not being serious and is just trying to rile you up by being intentionally obtuse. So, rather than dignify his question with an answer, you simply fix him with an annoyed glare and then attempt to put the tent body on by yourself. Eddie chuckles at your terse expression as he begins to help you. 

Finally, a few moments later, the two of you have set up your tent, leaving you to put your sleeping bags and pillows inside and set up the chairs near the fire as Eddie gets to work on cooking up a couple of foil burgers over the fire; a Munson family recipe and camping essential that’s really nothing more than a beef patty resting on top of a bed of potatoes and a few veggies inside a tinfoil cocoon. 

You still remember the first time you’d had such a delicacy during your first camping trip with the Munsons. You were absolutely ravenous, having just got back to camp with Wayne and Eddie after spending all day at the beach, your hair still wet from swimming around in the chilly waters of Lake Michigan and the baby tooth you’d lost while wrestling around in the sand with Eddie nestled in the patch pocket of Wayne’s flannel. As a result of your profound hunger, the easy dinner Wayne had prepared for the three of you tasted like the single greatest thing you’d ever eaten in all your eight years of life. Although, even now, when you finally bite into your burger after Eddie gets done making them, hungry but not at all starving thanks to the sweet treat you’d wolfed down earlier, that simple dish still tastes like one of the most delicious things you’ve ever eaten, the gooey cheese coating your tongue as you munch away happily. 

As for Eddie, he seems to agree about the delectableness of the foil burgers if the moan he emits as he bites into his burger is any indication. You giggle at the sound, feeling your cheeks heat up all the while. Always so dramatic, you think fondly. 

“We’ve really outdone ourselves this time, bug,” Eddie declares. You hum your agreement as you bite into a crispy chunk of potato. 

“The dried rosemary was a good touch. Where’d you get that anyways?” You ask him once you’ve swallowed your bite of starchy goodness. 

He grins around his mouthful of food, “Stole a jar of it from the pantry at Gareth’s place after I got done fixin’ the kitchen sink for his mom yesterday.” 

“Eddie!” You scold him. 

“What? I’ll bring it back Saturday when we have band practice. Lorraine’ll never even know it was missing,” he reasons. 

You simply shake your head at him disapprovingly while trying to fight off an amused smile, “You’ve gotta get those sticky fingers in check, Grub.” 

Later in the night, as you both lounge in your tent, sharing a joint to help you relax before you go to sleep, your mind races with fretful thoughts about going to college in a few weeks. 

“Eds,” you softly call out from just beside him, your head resting on his shoulder and his on yours as you lay with your bodies extended in opposite directions. 

“Yeah, bug?”

“No one’s ever- I haven’t had my first kiss yet,” you confess, your inhibitions lowered as the high sets in. 

Eddie snorts a laugh, amused by your randomness rather than your inexperience, “Yeah, I know, Jitterbug.” 

“What if I meet someone at school, and they kiss me?” You worry aloud. Eddie’s chest tightens at the thought, but he does his best to ignore it. 

“Then you’ll have your first kiss, duh,” he remarks simply as if the mere thought of you kissing someone - anyone - but him doesn’t make him want to cry and hurl simultaneously. 

“Yeah, I know, but what if it’s bad because… because I don’t know what I’m doing?” You ask, after rolling over to look into his doe eyes, your face hovering above his as your arms hold you up above him. Your breath smells like Kraft singles and Skunk #1, but Eddie can’t find it in himself to care; he’s just happy to have you so close to him. 

“First kisses are usually bad, silly billy,” Eddie giggles, the powers of the Dutch strain making him giddy even though his heart is aching just from hearing you talk about this shit. 

“But I don’t want mine to be bad,” you reply, your tone bordering on petulant as your brows furrow and your lips pout just slightly, “what if the guy I’m with gets weirded out by how bad I am at it and like never speaks to me ever again?” 

“Then that’s his loss, Jitterbug,” Eddie says without missing a beat. 

You sigh and sit up, shoulders hunching in slightly as you pout. 

“God, what if he does the opposite and tries to, you know, touch me?” You ponder, unintentionally breaking your best friend’s heart. Eddie’s sure that the knowledge of anyone but him touching you like that would devastate him.

“If- if that’s not something you’d be comfortable with, then just tell him,” he reasons. 

“But what if he doesn’t listen to me? My sister says that sometimes guys don’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” you reply, and Eddie’s jaw clenches at the thought. 

“Then I’ll kill him,” Eddie replies genuinely, causing you to burst into a fit of giggles. 

“Grub, you can’t even kill the spider that’s been camped out in your room for the past two weeks,” you tease, and Eddie frowns in response.

“That’s different. Guillermo and I have come to a mutual understanding, he kills the flies, and I don’t kill him,” Eddie replies defensively, and your giggles increase tenfold upon finding out that he’s named the damn thing. 

“You’re adorable, Eddie Bear,” You remark once your giggles have ceased. As you wipe the tears of amusement out of your eyes, you miss the blush that rises to Eddie’s cheeks. 

“Shut up,” he grumbles as he hands you the joint. You accept it gracefully as you take a hit, exhale, and then take another. Meanwhile, Eddie’s mesmerized by the sight of your lips wrapping around the joint, as if it’s a sight he hasn’t seen hundreds of times already. He’s immediately snapped out of his trance when you hand the joint back to him, your fingers brushing against his as you hand it over, still holding in the last puff you’ve taken. 

As you finally exhale your last hit, a brilliant idea comes to mind, or at least one that seems clever in your current state. 

“You should be my first kiss,” you suggest, making Eddie choke on the puff of smoke he’s just inhaled. 

“What? Me?” Eddie asks incredulously in between bouts of coughing. 

“Yeah, if you’re cool with it,” you respond nonchalantly as you grab the joint from him. 

“No, no, no, I think you’ve had enough for tonight, space cadet,” Eddie remarks as he plucks the joint from between your fingertips. 

“How do you feel, bug?” Eddie had asked you the first time you got high. 

“‘M so high, I think I could touch the stars up here,” you’d groaned, making Eddie chuckle. 

“Don’t worry, space cadet, I’ll be your ground control,” he’d reassured you. 

You whine, “Eddie, I’m not even that high.” 

“Of course, you’re not,” Eddie replies sarcastically as he stubs out the joint, opting to save the rest for tomorrow morning. 

“Eddie, it’s okay if you don’t want to,” you say as you timidly pick at the loose threads of your sleeping bag, “kiss me, I mean. It’s okay if you don’t wanna kiss me,” you clarify. 

Eddie sighs, knowing you’re not gonna let this go very easily. His mind races with thoughts of you kissing him, and his heart lurches at the idea that you’d even want to kiss him, but he also knows it’s too good to be true. You don’t actually want this, at least not with him; you’re just high and lonely. You’re too amazing and angelic; you could never want a freak like him, not in the same way he wants you. 

“How about you ask me again in the morning, okay?” Eddie offers placatingly as he climbs into his sleeping bag, saying anything he can to get you to drop this, to stop torturing him. 

Eddie’s not leaving any room for argument as he rolls over to face the opposite direction before shutting off the lantern. You sigh before climbing into your own sleeping bag and getting comfy. 

“Goodnight, Eddie,” you whisper tentatively, worrying that you’ve upset him. 

“Goodnight, bunny.” 

The following day is awkward, to say the least. The fresh air the wooded campground provides is nice, or it would be if it wasn’t filled with unbearable tension thanks to last night’s events. 

Eddie won’t even look at you, hasn’t spared you so much as a single glance since the two of you first woke up at around 9 a.m., nearly two hours ago. Granted, he’s not being outwardly hostile or anything like that. Instead, Eddie just won’t look at you, won’t speak to you in more than short sentences and noncommittal hums, and hasn’t touched you at all since last night when his fingers brushed yours as you exchanged the shared joint repeatedly. Usually, he would’ve talked your ear off about some new music by now, most likely the new Metallica album, or even about the latest drama plaguing the Hellfire club; surprisingly, a lot of juicy gossip comes out of that group. If the present circumstances were normal, Eddie also would’ve definitely exploited the many unintentional openings you’d given him this morning by tackling you to the ground or putting you in a half-nelson by now. However, he hasn’t done either of those things and, if his tense body language is anything to go off of, you figure he probably won’t be doing any of those things any time soon. How strange is it that you’ve begun to miss how Eddie playfully wrestles with and pesters you? How pathetic is it that you’ve started to yearn for how he carelessly flings you around like a ragdoll in an ornery display of his shocking strength?

“What time are we heading to the beach?” You ask meekly as you continue to pick at the Zingers Eddie had gotten you from the campground’s convenience store earlier this morning. At least he’d still gone out of his way to get your favorite breakfast-adjacent junk food. That had to be a good sign, right? 

“Dunno,” he replies gruffly and then shrugs his shoulders as he takes another puff of his cigarette, his gaze still fixed on the sparse grass beneath his Reeboks. 

“Maybe we could head out there in like an hour?” You suggest, your tone still timid and unsure, “That way, we could grab lunch on the way there. I just- I don’t think three Zingers will hold me over for the rest of the day. Not that I don’t appreciate that you got them for me, because I do! It’s just-”

Eddie cuts you off with another short, gruff response, “Yeah, that’s fine.” 

You frown at his dismissive tone. Had you really pushed things too far last night? Was the idea of kissing you so bad that even the mere suggestion of it had gotten Eddie this upset? 

When you first woke up this morning, you were mortified by the memory of what you’d said to your friend last night. Now, his sudden indifference toward you only amplifies that feeling of humiliation. 

This is only day two of what’s supposed to be a week-long trip, and you’re not sure if you can survive several more days of this trip, not if things will continue being this tense between you and Eddie. So, you decide to repress your shame in favor of making peace. After all, only a couple weeks after you get home from this trip, your dad will drive you up to Ann Arbor to move into your new dorm room for your first semester at college. You’re unsure if your friendship with Eddie could survive the distance, not with this lingering hostility creating such a harsh divide between you two. 

“Look, Eds,” you sigh, swallowing down what’s left of your pride as you prepare to grovel, to plead for your friendship to remain unchanged after last night’s blunder, “I’m sorry about last night, about asking you to… to kiss me. I mean- fuck- Grub, I’m really sorry for bringing it up and making shit weird between us. I promise I’m not, like, harboring some freakish little crush on you or anything like that. I just- I wanted you to be my first kiss because,” you pause with a quivering sigh, thinking better of your impending confession, “You know what? That doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is that I’m sorry, really fucking sorry, and I just wanna go back to the way things were before I said any of that stupid crap, okay? I just wanna enjoy our trip. I wanna have fun doing moronic bullshit in the woods with my best friend, the same way we always do every summer. Do you think we can do that? That we can just go back to the way things were? Please?”

Eddie sighs, dragging the palm of his hand harshly down his face until it reaches his jaw, where it then remains, kneading the muscles there as if to relieve the tension. His soulful brown eyes flicker up to meet yours just briefly before his gaze falls back to the ground. He finally breaks the silence, quietly asking, “Why me? Why d’ya wanna kiss me?” 

The question catches you off guard, so much so that you almost think you’d misheard him when he asked it. You can only think to reply with a surprised, breathy, “What?”

“Why did you want to kiss me, bug?” Eddie reiterates.

Your brows furrow, your nose scrunching up as you ponder and carefully plan your reply, not wanting to give too much away, wanting to keep your cards clutched close to your chest. You finally come up with an honest response and, most importantly, one that omits some of the more embarrassing details. You tug on the inside of your lower lip with your teeth, wriggling the flesh between your incisors, working up the courage to answer his question before sighing and eventually replying, “Because I trust you, Eddie. Because I know you won’t take things too far or do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

Eddie’s leg bounces as he considers your answer. “That’s all?” He asks suddenly, once again catching you off guard. 

“Wha- What d’you mean?” You curiously inquire, wearing your confusion plainly on your features. 

“That’s it? That’s the only reason why?” Eddie questions, his gaze intense, alight with an emotion you can’t place.

“I mean,” you trail off, your leg bouncing in tandem with Eddie’s, though not intentionally. “Yeah, kind of,” you lie. 

Unfortunately, Eddie still doesn’t look entirely convinced, and that makes you nervous. You huff out frustratedly, wringing your hands together and carefully thinking over your words before speaking. 

“Grub, I’m 18 years old, and I’ve never once in my whole life kissed someone, so, yeah, at this point, I’m pretty fucking desperate. Hell, I think I’d kiss just about anyone,” you ramble, slightly exasperated. 

I think I’d kiss just about anyone. 

You don’t mean it as an insult, you don’t mean to hurt Eddie’s feelings, he knows you don’t, but it still stings something fierce. 

“Look, Eds, I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, so if you’re not-”

Eddie interrupts you, not that he’s truly listening to how you’re trying, in vain, to walk back your previous statements anyways. No, Eddie’s too busy thinking about if he is actually going to go through with this. He bluntly asks, “Just one kiss?” 

Those three words halt you in your tracks, making your breath hitch. You miraculously manage to collect yourself and come up with a coherent response. 

“Yeah,” you reply in a tone that’s gentle and airy, soft and breathy like a sigh, “just one.” 

“I’ll do it,” Eddie swiftly asserts, taking you both by surprise. “I mean, um, I’ll- I’ll help you, but you gotta promise me something first, ’kay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, anything, Grub, of course,” you agree far too eagerly, making a swirling mass of embarrassment sink down heavily into the pit of your stomach. All the while, your voice is still soft and quiet, nothing more than a susurration.

“You gotta promise me you won’t let this change things between us, bug. Okay? I can’t lose-” Eddie cuts himself off with a shaky, anxious exhale, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes as he attempts to reign in his emotions. He wants to tell you that if he ever lost you again, like he did in the summer of 1980, he wouldn’t be able to survive it; Eddie’s not really sure how he survived it last time. However, Eddie’s too afraid to tell you that, too scared of what that implies, and infinitely more scared of how you’d react to that implication. So, he drops his hands from his face, opting to pick at his nail beds to keep his fidgety fingers busy, as he continues, “I’m just helping you out, alright? So, just- You gotta promise that you won’t start acting all weird around me or, um, start avoiding me again, or whatever.” 

You frown at the sentiment, briefly looking back on those two years you’d spent without Eddie in high school. You were an idiot back then, avoiding the one person, the only one of your peers, who’d ever shown you genuine kindness, just because he’d gotten a little mean and said some things that had hurt your feelings during a heated exchange, what’s worse is they were things you’d desperately needed to hear. You gently shake your head as if to rid yourself of any and all memories of that lonely time in your life before looking into Eddie’s eyes and earnestly swearing, “I won’t, Grub. Nothing will change between us, I promise.” 

Things truly won’t change between the two of you; you’ll make sure of that. Eddie will never find out about the love you pathetically harbor for him, and, most importantly, you’ll never shut him out again. Even when he settles down one day with someone who isn’t you, maybe marries them and has a couple kids with them, you’ll still be his best friend, no matter how much it hurts, and you’ll make damn sure that Eddie never finds out how much it hurts you. 

Eddie can hear the unwavering sincerity in your voice, can see it in your gaze, and it makes him smile softly, a warm expression you cannot help but reciprocate. 

“Okay,” he breathes, his tone wavering as he rubs his sweaty palms on the rough denim of his jeans. “Just, um, c’mere… If you want to, I mean,” he stammers awkwardly. You’d probably chuckle at his apparent nervousness if you weren’t feeling the same way right now. Instead, you simply get up out of your lawn chair, rise to your feet, and trek across the short distance between the two of you. You then lower yourself to sit down in the grass in front of Eddie, who promptly lowers his legs, his knees no longer tucked up against his chest as he now sits tailorwise, or criss-cross-applesauce, as you both call it. You sit in the same position, your knees pressed against his own as you mirror him. 

Eddie tentatively leans forward, bridging the gap between you two, as one of his large, warm hands rises to hover over one of your shoulders for a brief moment before he finally gets the courage to lower it so that it rests there. With his other hand, he takes a much bolder step, lifting his arm and hesitantly reaching up to brush his calloused fingertips against the soft, smooth skin of your cheek before finally cupping it in his palm. 

“Is this okay?” He asks you quietly, like he’s afraid that speaking more loudly than a mere whisper will frighten you and scare you off. You nod your affirmative as your hands slowly move forward to rest on his denim-clad thighs, just above his knees. That contact makes Eddie’s breath hitch, but you both elect to ignore it for reasons unbeknownst to each other. 

Eddie then leans in further, his bulbous nose gently brushing against yours with purpose, effectively warning you and giving you a chance to stop him. However, you do the opposite. “Eds, please, kiss me,” you whisper. 

It’s all the encouragement Eddie needs. He closes the gap between the two of you, his lips finally meeting yours. You try to reciprocate as best as you can, but you’re, admittedly, a little lost. You’re overthinking things, Eddie can tell. He pulls away far sooner than he would’ve liked to and then presses a comforting kiss to the corner of your mouth, by one of your smile lines that he loves so much. 

“I wasn’t good, was I?” You grimace, your forehead still resting against his. “Please, you can tell me. I just wanna know what to do, Ott.” 

Eddie licks his lips before hesitantly replying, “When you, um,” he clears his throat, “the next time that you kiss someone, try not to purse your lips so much,” he winces, both at the thought of you kissing someone else and out of fear that he’s been too harsh. 

“I thought that’s what you’re supposed to do when you kiss someone?” Eddie thinks your puzzled expression is far too adorable to be legal. 

“You are! You are, a little bit, I mean. Just not quite so much; you gotta relax your um- your mouth a little bit,” Eddie blushes, thoroughly flustered. As usual, you’re oblivious to his plight, too caught up in your own mind. 

Your brows furrow as you stare at his chin absentmindedly, mind racing a million miles an hour all the while, “S-so how much should I purse them then?” 

Eddie thinks it over. “It’s hard to explain,” he sighs. 

“Could you, you know, show me?” You ask. “I mean, if you’re comfortable kissing me again.” 

Little do you know, Eddie would gladly give up both of his kidneys if it meant he got to kiss you again. Needless to say, he’s pretty stoked that he gets to do it without having to endure a double nephrectomy. 

He nods, answering wordlessly, before leaning in again, connecting your lips once more. You make sure to pay attention to what he’s doing, to how it feels, so you can mirror it. You relax your mouth a bit, your lips not quite as pursed as before, and Eddie sighs his approval. That sound sets your whole body alight with tingly, little fireworks.

You both get caught up in the moment, in the feeling of finally acting on the desires you’ve both spent years repressing. Consequently, when Eddie nips at your bottom lip, and you respond with a gasp that he can only describe as sinful, he doesn’t even try to resist the urge to take advantage of the momentary part in your lips. You pull back abruptly, primarily out of shock, when you feel his tongue slip through the gap. Eddie winces at the loss. 

“Shit, sorry,” he apologies gruffly, comfortingly rubbing your upper arms on instinct, soothing you. 

You let out an easy, breathy giggle as you ease back into his space, resting your forehead gently against his own. “It’s okay. You surprised me, that’s all. Just, um, warn me next time, okay?” 

Warmth blossoms in both of your chests at the thought of getting to kiss each other again. Eddie lets out a gentle chuckle of his own as he moves his other hand up to cup your other cheek, feeling the warmth alight beneath the soft skin there too.

“Next time?” Eddie questions with a nervous grin, mentally berating himself for daring to question you because, in his eyes, you’re practically offering your lips up to him on a silver platter, and he’s about to make you second guess that monumental decision. 

“Yeah,” you let out the prettiest little sigh, “I feel like I have a lot left to learn, and, well, you seem like a pretty good teacher. I mean, if you don’t mind kissing me again, that is,” you look into his eyes hopefully. Eddie feels his smile grow wider at the sight of your sanguine expression. 

Eddie offers his whispered reassurance while gently nudging the tip of your nose with his own, “I don’t mind.” 

Needless to say, you two won’t make it to the beach today.

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Side Note: Please don't feel like you're weird if you're older than 18 and still haven't had your first kiss yet!! I literally haven’t had my first kiss yet and I’m 21 years old. We all do things at our own pace and in our own time, so, trust me, you're not weird at all if you're an adult (of any age) who hasn't been kissed yet!!

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#eddie munson #best friend!eddie munson #best friend!eddie #best friend au #jitterbug + grub #jitterbug x grub #jitterbug and grub #best friend!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things vol 4 #eddie munson fluff #stranger things au #stranger things fluff #stranger things season four #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson au #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fics

[pollenallergie]

live footage of when jitterbug!reader tried (and failed) to get Eddie out of trouble after Wayne caught him smoking weed for the first time

#jitterbug x grub #jitterbug and grub #best friend!eddie munson #eddie munson thoughts #kurtis conner

[pollenallergie]

18+ only!!

do not interact if you’re under 18 years old!

some random best friend!Eddie headcanons bc I feel like it:

Eddie has several pairs of holiday-themed socks and he wears them year round. You can frequently catch him sporting Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer socks, regardless of the season. <3

When Eddie was like 8 or 9, he went through a phase where he only wanted spaghetti-o’s for dinner every night, so your mom started calling him “Eddie Spaghetti.” <3

Little kids love Eddie. He doesn’t know why, but they sort of gravitate toward him. That said, he certainly doesn’t mind; he thinks it’s adorable. He’s just naturally very good with kids. <3

You two have matching tattoos. His says “billy” and yours says “silly,” in reference to an inside joke from when you were little. <3

You and Eddie always manage to get sick at the same time. Always. Wayne and your mom used to take turns staying home to take care of you two when you were little, but now you two little sicklings just take care of each other. <3

After every single holiday meal, you both sneak off to your bedroom to sleep off the impending food coma in your bed. It’s a tradition you’ve had since you were ten. <3

Eddie is your grandma’s favorite grandchild, even though he’s not technically her grandchild. <3

The first time you smoked weed, you got so high that Eddie called you “space cadet” the whole night. He now calls you that every time you get high. <3

Whenever Eddie goes to the gas station to pick up a new pack of cigarettes, he’ll grab your favorite candy for you. <3

You’re insecure about your laugh (not your cute little giggle, but your genuine, unrestrained laugh), but it’s one of Eddie’s favorite things about you. <3

You and Eddie have a rule about getting each other christmas and birthday presents since you both grew up with little money. The rule is that you can only make things for each other. For the most part, you both adhere to this rule completely. However, you’ve both been known to break it every once and a while in favor of getting something extra special for each other. For example, you had splurged on Metallica tickets for Eddie’s 18th birthday. Likewise, he’d spent entirely too much money on a special edition gift set of your favorite book series last christmas. <3

You and Eddie used to put on plays for your mom and Uncle Wayne when you were kids. Honestly, you’d continued to do so for far longer than either of you would like to admit. <3

Eddie’s so close with your family that he even bickers with your siblings like they’re his own. <3

Eddie takes your dog to the park at least once a week for quality “bro time,” as he likes to call it. <3

He also helped name your dog when you’d first gotten him. He’d named him Philby after the Rory Gallagher song, only to later learn that the title for that song came from the name of a British spy who’d worked as a double agent for the Soviets. oopsies. <3

Wayne takes you, Eddie, and your family camping near the Indiana Dunes every single summer, and has done so since you were ten. <3

When Eddie was a kid, he had a black cat named Samwise. Unfortunately, Samwise passed away when Eddie was thirteen. You’d both cried about it for weeks. </3

You and Eddie both hate the public pool, Eddie because he’s the town pariah, and you because people always look at you weirdly when you wear a swimsuit and it makes you feel insecure. So, in the summertime, you’ll often sneak Eddie into your dad’s backyard after he leaves for work in the morning, that way you two can spend the whole day swimming without being subjected to ridicule from the other Hawkins residents. <3

Wayne has a copy of every single one of your school pictures much like your mom has a copy of every single one of Eddie’s. <3

Eddie learned how to make pot brownies after you’d expressed an interest in trying them. <3

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie’s written multiple songs for you. <3

He gets your mom a mother’s day present every year. He also gets Wayne a father’s day present every year. <3

Your mom packed lunches for the both of you until she finally cut you off freshman year, hoping to urge you both to become more independent. <3

Your dad paid for you to go to summer camp in the summer between sixth and seventh grade, and, while you were gone, you’d made a total of six sets of matching friendship bracelets for you and Eddie. Only one of them survived to adulthood, and he still wears it to this day. <3

For his birthday one year, you’d made him a scrapbook filled with pictures of the both of you. Unbeknownst to you, he’d continued to add pictures to it until it was completely full. <3

Eddie cries every single time he watches Bambi. <3

Eddie also cries when he watches Old Yeller. <3

Eddie took you to see The Color Purple when it was released in theaters. He cried during that movie as well. <3

Eddie won a story-writing contest in the sixth grade and, again, in the seventh grade. <3

Eddie only lies about the most inconsequential and random shit. Like he’ll tell some extremely thorough, elaborate lie about the etymology of a word just for shits and giggles. He’s a very convincing liar too, which makes it even funnier when you’re in on the joke. <3

Eddie doesn’t believe that he’s a good writer, just that he’s a good bullshitter. You assure him that he’s far too good at both of those things. <3

Eddie prefers to start his Sunday mornings with a good, ole fashioned wake n bake followed by an unreasonable amount of chocolate chip pancakes. <3

In the wintertime, he walks around the trailer cocooned in the fuzzy blanket that your mom got him for christmas one year. It’s adorable. <3

Eddie has surprisingly steady hands which you frequently take advantage of by asking him to paint your nails. <3

He hugs you very frequently because he just likes hugging you, okay? Don’t make it weird! (his words, not mine). And, believe me, this man gives the best hugs. <3

Eddie talks in his sleep, but his words are usually so slurred and garbled that you can’t understand them. <3

Eddie and Wayne also collect beer coozies, in addition to their collection of hats and mugs. Seriously, they have an inordinate amount of beer coozies. And they just whip them out, unprompted, all the time. Are you drinking a soda? Well, hey, they’ve got a coozie for ya! Hell, they’ll even use them on glasses of water. <3

Wayne’s a big NASCAR fan and he even took you and Eddie to the Indy 500 once. You were both bored out of your minds the entire time, but grateful nonetheless. <3

You guys even stayed in the train-car hotel for that trip which, as eight-year-olds, you both found insanely cool. <3

Wayne frequently goes to your mom for parenting advice. <3

Wayne also played matchmaker for your mom and her boyfriend, Hank, one of his coworkers from the plant. They’ve been together for two years now. <3

She’d repaid the favor by setting him up with the receptionist from her office, Marie. They’ve been together for almost a year now. <3

Wayne and your mom have been trying to play matchmaker between you and Eddie for years now, but you’re both too damn oblivious. <3

Eddie tried to teach you how to ride a bike when you were eleven, but you fell once and never attempted again. So, before he’d gotten his license, he’d either let you stand on the back of his bike and hold onto him or he’d let you sit on the handlebars. <3

Eddie wants to get a motorcycle one day just because he thinks you’d look hot perched on the back of one. <3

Eddie’s first car, before the van, was your mom’s old station wagon. <3

You and Eddie both talk a lot, so you have a bad habit of interrupting each other, but, it’s hard to get mad about that given how much you both like listening to each other talk. <3

You two used to argue a lot as kids, mostly because you’re both stubborn, but now you hardly ever butt heads. You’re both still incredibly stubborn, but are now more willing to compromise, at least with each other. <3

You’ve never missed one of Corroded Coffin’s shows. <3

Eddie loves naps, can’t get enough of ‘em. <3

Eddie’s superpower is his ability to sleep anywhere. Once, when there was a tornado during school, he’d fallen asleep on the tile floor of the hallway of Hawkin’s Middle while in that protective, crouched position that you’d all been forced to sit in. It was honestly impressive. <3

You have asthma, so Eddie’s developed a habit of keeping one of your spare rescue inhalers on him at all times. The one he’s got for you is technically expired, but he figures it’s better than nothing. <3

Eddie loves it when you play with his hair. He even lets you brush it for him. <3

Eddie guilt trips you into giving him back rubs by faking a sore back and complaining about how awful his mattress is. Truthfully, Eddie quite likes his bed, it’s much better than the one he’d slept in when he lived with his dad, but he’s willing to throw ole reliable under the bus if it means getting a free back rub. He’s been using that trick since he was nine. Of course, his intentions are purely wholesome in nature; he really just loves your back rubs. <3

He’ll frequently return the favor by giving you shoulder and neck rubs because he knows that you carry a lot of tension there. <3

Eddie has a framed picture of you two together on his dresser. <3

#jitterbug and grub #eddie munson #best friend au #best friend!eddie munson #best friend!eddie #implied plus size!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson hc #eddie munson thoughts #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things #stranger things hc #stranger things au #stranger things fluff #stranger things vol 4 #stranger things 4 #pol’s greatest hits

[pollenallergie]

Eddie-isms

Since the last set of miscellaneous best friend!Eddie headcanons I posted did so well, I figured I’d type up some more. :)

18+

do not interact if you’re under 18 years old!

Eddie makes fun of you for being lactose intolerant. “Bunny, you can’t even digest ice cream correctly. It’s like god wanted you to live a joyless life.” <3

Eddie sneezes obnoxiously loud. He doesn’t really do it on purpose, he’s just a naturally loud sneezer. <3

Remember how I said Eddie loves naps? Yeah, if he gets bored with whatever he’s doing, he’ll just drag you back to the bedroom for an impromptu nap and you kind of just have to accept it. <3

Eddie will challenge you to a burping contest and he expects you to put in genuine effort every single time because “this is not a game, this is serious shit.” <3

Eddie takes periodic breaks from smoking and drinking to make sure that he doesn’t build up too high of a tolerance. During these breaks he simply replaces drugs with sugar, which is somehow worse. He’s like a hyper little kid on Halloween night. <3

Eddie still goes to a pediatrician/family medicine doctor and he gets very upset when they don’t offer him a lollipop and a sticker at the end of his appointment. “Why did I even show up? What’s the point in me even being here if they’re not gonna give me anything, jitterbug? I really fucking wanted that Gandalf sticker. This is horseshit.” <3

Eddie calls french toast “eggy-loaf.” No one knows where he got that name from, but he’s been calling it that for as long as you’ve known him. <3

Eddie’s gotten poison ivy way too many times to count. He got it on his dick twice in the summer of ‘84. Wayne laughed at him both times. <3

Most of the mugs in the Munsons’ collection are technically Wayne’s, but the Garfield mug? That’s 100% Eddie’s. He got it on a road trip with Wayne when he was ten and has heralded it as one of his most prized possessions ever since. Interestingly, when Eddie drinks coffee in the morning, he uses one of Wayne’s mugs because he refuses to use his special Garfield mug for anything other than hot cocoa and soup. One time you made the mistake of brewing Eddie some tea in his Garfield mug while he was sick. Of course, Eddie still drank the tea because he’s not wasteful, but he did so while glaring at you ceaselessly. <3

Eddie is a lighter thief… and a scrunchie thief… and a pencil thief… and a t-shirt thief. Basically anything that you own also belongs to Eddie and he will take it without warning. In his defense, he doesn’t mean to steal anything from you, he just borrows your stuff and forgets to give it back to you. <3

Eddie draws little sketches for you all the time. For example, he once drew you a picture of your favorite flower cradled in the bony hand of a skeleton; it was actually insanely good. However, instead of giving them to you like a normal person, he folds them into paper airplanes and throws them at you as hard as he can. <3

Eddie says “safety” every single time he farts. <3

Eddie almost always has a tiny piece of gravel caught in his shoe, it’s the bane of his existence. <3

Eddie is surprisingly strong (as we all know) and he uses that strength for nefarious purposes, like body slamming you onto the couch for no fucking reason; something he does almost daily. He always finishes this epic move by pinning you down and counting to three. Then he’ll spend the next two minutes celebrating his “victory.” <3

When Eddie gets really excited, he’ll grab your hand and squeeze it just a little too tight. He doesn’t even really mean to do that, or at least he doesn’t mean to squeeze quite so hard, but he can’t really contain himself when he gets all hyped up. <3

You’ve learned not to talk about how heavy/big you are around Eddie because he almost sees it as a challenge. “What, so you think I can’t pick you up? You think I can’t lift that much? You think I’m a whimp, huh?” He’ll then hoist you into the air just to prove a point. <3

Also, whenever you talk badly about yourself in front of him, he makes you say three things that you like about yourself off the top of your head. It’s a trick that you started using on him during the dark days of puberty and, honestly, you regret teaching it to him. <3

Eddie is insanely competitive when it comes to board games, especially Pictionary. <3

Eddie often randomly challenges you to thumb wars and, when you don’t accept, he pouts like a baby. <3

Whenever Eddie’s hands get cold, he’ll sneak up behind you and press them against your cheeks or the back of your neck just to shock you. <3

Eddie loves it when you torment him like he does to you because he thinks you look especially beautiful when you’re being ornery. <3

Eddie talks about you to the new Hellfire members as if you’re dead and not just away at college. “Our very own Hellfire queen, the beloved bearer of snacks, may her memory live on forever,” He declares theatrically. “Oh, damn, how’d she die?” One of the freshmen asks. Gareth sighs, “She’s not dead, Munson’s just a dweeb.” <3

He impersonates Yoda… like a lot, one could even say he does it a little too often. <3

“Grub, can you turn your music down a bit? I’m trying to study.” “Do or do not. There is no try.” “Eddie!” <3

Also slips into Shakespearean mode every now and then. <3

“Hey, grub, should I wear my hair up or down with this dress?” “To wear it up or to wear it down, that is the question.” “Dude, you’re such a dork.” <3

He’s tried to create a special friendship handshake for the two of you multiple times, but the problem is he makes them way too complicated so neither of you can remember them. <3

Any time you have ever worn a two piece swimsuit in front of him, he’s blown a raspberry on your tummy. He doesn’t do it to embarrass you or to make you feel insecure about your belly, quite the opposite, he likes your belly so much that he can’t suppress the primal urge to blow a raspberry on it every time he sees it. In his mind, it makes perfect sense, but, in yours, not so much. <3

Eddie physically cannot go twenty-four hours without seeing you or, at least, talking to you on the phone. <3

Eddie will take you and your friends to see a rom-com if you ask him too. If it’s good enough, he’ll even secretly enjoy it too. <3

Eddie actually really enjoys hanging out with you and your friends, so much so that he’ll forever be bitter about the fact that he’s not allowed to come to your group sleepovers. Of course, you want to invite him, but they typically take place at one of your friends houses and, given that he is a dude that’s attracted to women and that has the capacity to knock up the majority of your friend group, none of their parents are super fond of the idea of him spending the night with you guys. He gets it, obviously not everyone can be as forward thinking as your angel of a mom, but it still sucks nonetheless. </3

You try to make up for that by doing some of the same activities at your sleepovers with him; face masks, hair braiding, makeovers, taking the quizzes in your copy of this month’s issues of Cosmopolitan and Seventeen Magazine, etc. Honestly, Eddie has had to lie on so many of those goddamn quizzes, just so you wouldn’t find out that he’s hopelessly in love with you. <3

Eddie makes NPCs for his Hellfire campaigns that are inspired by you; it’s his way of including you in the campaigns while you’re away at college. He’ll even fill you in on how your NPCs are fairing in the campaigns every Friday over the phone after he gets home from the club’s meetings. <3

Eddie kinda uses Philby as his therapist. Whenever he’s had a hard day, he’ll take your dog on a long walk, talking through whatever’s on his mind all the while. You accidentally caught them in the midst of one of these therapy sessions once and Eddie’s face went beet red from embarrassment. <3

Eddie’s brain short-circuits every single time you boop his nose (which is often, because how could you not?). It’s like his reset button. He’ll just be rambling on and on about something, most likely either an upcoming campaign or a sick guitar riff he came up with the other day, and you’ll just give that sweet little nose of his a quick, audible boop and suddenly the words are dying on his tongue. His cheeks flush a sweet rosy hue and his mouth parts in an inaudible gasp. It’s a rare moment of speechlessness for him, as if that one affectionate touch was enough to halt his ever-racing thoughts. Unfortunately, the more often you boop his nose, the more quickly he begins to recover, but that initial moment of quiet shock never fully goes away. <3

When Eddie was a kid, he couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. The holiday season was always so stressful for him because he constantly had to fight the urge to tell people what he’d made for them. In fact, back then, you all frequently received your presents from him weeks before Christmas because, as soon as he would finish making them, he’d get so excited to give them to you that he just couldn’t wait. <3

Now that he’s older, Eddie’s gotten way too good at keeping secrets… for the most part. If someone confides in him about something serious or wholly private in nature, then he’ll take that shit to the grave with him, won’t tell a single soul about it. However, when it comes to less severe secrets, Eddie tends to make an exception, at least for you. Case in point, you know about all of the Hellfire boys’ crushes simply because Eddie cannot keep his big mouth shut. <3

Eddie has this general disposition about him that just makes it so easy to confide in him and many of his customers frequently take advantage of that, venting to him about their shitty parents or opening up to him about whatever’s stressing them out. He always listens to them attentively and without judgment, and, occasionally, he’ll even offer them some genuinely good advice. Truthfully, Eddie gives great advice, the problem is that he often doesn’t follow this advice himself. <3

Eddie writes poetry and, sometimes, he’ll even read his poems to you, but only the ones that he’s really confident in and that, importantly, are not about you. <3

Eddie’s not worried about being stuck in the friend zone, mostly because he’s worried about a second, worse thing: the brother zone. Due to how close your families are and how long you’ve known each other, Eddie worries that you see him as nothing more than a brotherly figure and the thought of that kills him because is it even possible to get out of the brother zone?? The way Eddie sees it, at least the friend zone might, maybe have the potential for future upward mobility. The brother zone, however, might as well be a limitless vat of swiftly drying cement, because once you’re there, you’re there for life. </3

Given how close Eddie and your mom are, she’s told him many times that, if he’s comfortable with it, he can call her mom. However, Eddie refuses to do that. Not because he’s uncomfortable with it, but because he refuses to do anything to further increase his chances of ending up in the goddamn brother zone. </3

He’s irrationally afraid of ladybugs. Whenever one lands near him, he freaks out, much like most people do when wasps start buzzing around them. Unlike most people, he’s not too bothered by wasps, just ladybugs. Fuck ladybugs. <3

Eddie really enjoys baths, but his trailer doesn’t have a tub, so your mom lets him use the one in her trailer while she’s at work. He’d spend all day there if he could. However, he also gets really lonely, so he forces you to sit just outside the bathroom, talking to him through the closed door. <3

He also gets lonely while he poops, but he feels like asking you to sit on the other side of the door to talk to him while he poops is just a tad too intimate, so, while the two of you are still just friends, he’ll make do with reading the ingredients on your shampoo bottle. But if (when) the two of you ever start dating, that shit will be fair game (pun intended?). <3

Eddie likes to play footsie with you whenever you’re sat across from each other at a table. It doesn’t matter if the two of you are eating at your favorite diner, reading books at the public library, or simply sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, sipping on some coffee, the man will initiate it anywhere. This is also to his detriment, though, because it means that he ends up with a lot of awkward boners in public places. Oopsie. <3

He likes letting you do his makeup and paint his nails. Really, the man will take any opportunity for you to dote on him. <3

He secretly loves it when you call him Eddie Bear or Teddy, but he’ll never tell you that. <3

He spends way too much time looking at you, studying and admiring all the features that make up your pretty face. How you fail to notice his incessant staring is beyond him. <3

Eddie very much enjoys clinging onto you like a sloth. Oddly enough, he kinda wishes that he could go eight days without needing to poop or eat, like sloths can, just so he could get to really maximize the amount of time that he gets to hold you. <3

Eddie’s weird, really weird. Adorable and unexpectedly charming, but also weird. He worries that he’s off-putting, but your mom tells him that he’s just eccentric and that the right person will like that about him. He hopes that person is you. <3

He’s kind of obsessed with you; talks about you all the time, craves your attention 24/7, would do anything for you, etc. Just as Eddie used to say when he was little, he loves you long time. <3

Eddie Munson is the biggest hopeless romantic on this side of the Mississippi River. <3

#jitterbug and grub #eddie munson x reader #best friend au #best friend!eddie #best friend!eddie munson #eddie munson #eddie munson thoughts #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson hc #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie stranger things #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson headcanons #stranger things hc #stranger things fluff #stranger things au #stranger things vol 4 #pol’s greatest hits

[pollenallergie]

Stuffy Noses and Skimpy Costumes

AN: Just a fluffy fic about the reader being sick on Halloween and best friend!Eddie skipping a party to hang out with her. I decided to write this at the very last minute because I forgot about Halloween until literally this morning, so um… this has definitely not been proofread. Shwoopsie. Still worth the read tho! Also, it's still technically Halloween where I'm at right now, so mission accomplished, team!

TW: None, I think? Eddie’s a bit of a perv, but what else is new. Discussions of illness (mucus is briefly mentioned, but other than that it’s pretty benign stuff).

18+ only!!

do not interact if you’re under 18 years old!

It’s only six in the morning when Eddie is jolted awake by the sound of the landline ringing in the living room of the trailer. He hears Wayne grumble from the kitchen, having just gotten home from work and definitely not thrilled about his pre-sleep cigarette break getting interrupted. Wayne answers the phone and huffs out an unenthusiastic greeting into the receiver. Eddie sighs in relief once the ringing stops and rolls over in an attempt to get a few more minutes of sleep.

“Kid, it’s for you!” Wayne shouts at Eddie from the other room, interrupting his attempts at sleep.

A few expletives tumble past Eddie’s chapped lips as he flings back the covers and clumsily stumbles out of bed. He makes his way to the den, bumping his hip on the kitchen counter on the way there, causing him to grumble out a few more swears. He grabs the phone from Wayne and holds it up to his ear.

“Hello?” He murmurs grumpily while using his free hand to rub the sleep out of his eye.

“Hey, Eddie,” Eddie detects the guilt in your tone almost immediately, along with the usual nasliness that you get this time of year; the changing seasons have always done a number on your sinuses. He perks up a bit as his brows furrow in concern.

He clears his throat, ridding his voice of its usual morning raspiness, before asking, “What’s wrong, bug?”

On the other end of the call, you crumble. Of course Eddie could tell something was wrong. Eddie could always tell when something was wrong. He could read you like a book.

“I’m not gonna be able to go to Nick Paulson’s party with you tonight.” You mumble out pitifully as you nervously pick and pull at the dead skin on your lips.

“Why not? What’s the matter?” Eddie had already kind of assumed that you’d bail on him; he knows how nervous you get at parties. However, he still wants to know what tall-tale you’ve conjured up to excuse yourself from it.

Except, you don’t offer him some lame excuse. “I’m sick, grub. I think it’s just a cold, but there’s so much pressure in my head right now and I feel awful,��� You explain, pausing halfway through to pull your face away from the receiver and hack out a mucus-y cough, Eddie winces at the sound of it.

“Fuck, jitterbug, you sound awful.”

“I know,” You reply pitifully in a tone that borders on whiny. Sniffles soon follow.

“Bug, why’re you crying?” Eddie asks gently.

“Don’t feel good, Eddie,” you whine. You tend to get a little sensitive when you’re sick, you’ve always been like that. Eddie should be used to it, given how much you got sick as a kid, but it still breaks his heart all the same.

“I know, bunny. I’m sorry,” He coos, “Need me to stay home with you today?”

“You can’t Eddie; you gotta get your attendance up,” You remind him, tone still laced with misery.

“Bug-”

“I’ll be fine, Eds. Just promise me that you’ll come show me your costume before you leave for the party tonight?” You plead.

“Fuck, bunny, I’m not going to that damn party, not without you. How about I come over tonight and we can just hang out or somethin’? I could go rent us some movies and get us some snacks after school, maybe pick up some medicine for you too, sicky-poo. How’s that sound?” Eddie offers.

“But what about the money? Weren’t you only going so that you could deal to Nick and his friends?”

Eddie clears his throat before whispering his reply so that Wayne won’t hear it, “I’ll um… I’ll just meet up with them after school and do it then.”

“Are you sure? What about the guys? Weren’t they gonna meet us there?” You ask.

“Nah, the little cowards backed out yesterday at lunch. Didn’t really figure they’d go anyways; it’s not really our scene,” He informs you, “‘sides, you know I’ll have way more fun watching movies with you than I could ever possibly have at some lame house party, even if I gotta listen to you hack up a lung every so often.”

“I know, I just feel bad,” You murmur.

“Well don’t, bug, because you’re actually doing me a favor,” Eddie looks over at the clock briefly, “I should probably start getting ready for school. I’ll be at your place at six, ‘s that okay?”

“In costume?” You ask hopefully, causing Eddie to huff out a laugh.

“No, bug, I planned on showing up naked,” He teases and you fluster.

“You’re a dick,” you grumble and he chuckles in response.

“Yes, I’ll show up in costume. You feel up to wearing yours? Would hate to be the only one in costume.”

It’s tradition for you both to surprise each other with your costumes on the day of Halloween, so he’s secretly hoping that you’ll say yes.

“Yeah, I can manage that. I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Alright, goodbye, bunny.”

“Adíos, flittermouse.”

Eddie snorts at your pet name for him before hanging up.

You’d been sick on Halloween before, Eddie remembers it all too well. It was back in the fifth grade. You’d caught strep throat from Kimmy Owens that week and had been stuck at home with it for three days prior, so your mom had barred you from going trick-or-treating. Eddie was determined for you to not miss out, though, so he went trick-or-treating for the both of you. He’d asked your mom to take a picture of you in your costume, a homemade witch ensemble that you’d looked adorable in, with her polaroid. Then, that night, he’d taken two bags with him for candy as well as that picture of you, and, at each house he’d stopped at, he made sure to show whoever answered the door your picture before asking if he could grab some candy for you since you were stuck at home with strep throat.

The moms and grandmas of Hawkins thought it was absolutely adorable, Eddie walking around in the wizard costume that your mom had made for him and trick-or-treating for his sickly friend. Especially since he’d carried around a picture of you as if he needed proof that the additional candy he grabbed wasn’t just extra candy for himself. A few of them even gave him some extra candy for himself just for being such a good friend, but, at the end of the night, he made sure to divide the small pile of the extra candy from his bag in half so that he could split it with you. Eddie then hand delivered your candy, stuffing it in the tiny mailbox attached to your trailer to make sure that the other kids in the trailer park wouldn’t steal it.

That Halloween had been his least favorite, at least, of the ones he’d had since Wayne took him in, simply because he didn’t get to see you at all that day. However, much like he was on that particular Halloween, Eddie is determined to make sure that you don’t miss out on too much of the festivities.

True to his word, Eddie shows up on your doorstep at six on the dot, adorned in his Boromir costume, complete with a fake beard, while holding a few plastic bags filled with snacks, some feel-better-soon essentials, and movies. He knocks on the door with his elbow because his hands are full, and then eagerly waits for you to open it, excited to show you his costume that he spent months on.

All of the air leaves his lungs when you open the door, revealing your costume to him. You’ve chosen to go as Jessica 6 from the Logan’s Run TV series and are dressed in your recreation of her pink dress from episode two. It’s short, really short, showing off your legs which are completely bare, as you had forgone any tights or pantyhose in the name of comfort. The silence is deafening and you’re left feeling a bit unsure of yourself.

“It looks stupid, doesn’t it?” You question shyly.

“No! No, you look,” Eddie gulps, “You… Did you make this?”

“Yeah, with my mom’s help. You know how much the sewing machine and I despise each other,” You joke, tone still laced with insecurity.

Eddie quickly tries to think of a compliment that he can give you without sounding like a total creep.

You look hot.

Nope.

Nice legs.

Definitely not.

He settles on, “You look pretty.”

Your breath hitches and he worries that he’s said the wrong thing.

“Thank you. You, um, you look hairy,” You grimace at your failed attempt at a compliment and quickly correct yourself, “I mean, you look great! It’s that guy from Lord of the Rings cartoon, right? The warrior from, um, Condo was it?”

“Gondor,” Eddie corrects with a smirk. “And yes, I am Boromir.”

You don’t have to ask if Eddie made his costume, you already know that he did; he almost always does. If he weren’t so hellbent on keeping up this tradition of surprising each other with your costumes, then he’d offer to help you make yours too.

“You gonna keep that beard on all night, dimples?” You ask while taking one of the bags from him and leading him inside. “It looks itchy.”

“‘Course I am, bunny; can’t go breakin’ character,” Eddie replies as he sets down the bag on your mom’s coffee table before fishing out the movies he’d rented.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be up to watching any slasher films tonight since you’re diseased,” Eddie begins.

“I have a sinus infection, asshole, I’m not ‘diseased.’”

“Infected, then,” He amends, “So, I picked up Gremlins, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, The Dark Crystal, and, just in case you are down to watch a horror movie, Carrie, because I know it’s your favorite.”

“Grub, that’s a bit excessive, isn’t it? Are we even going to be able to watch four movies?” You question as you begin getting out the snacks.

“I have faith in us,” Eddie simply replies as he sets the movies down and gets out the stuff he picked up for you from the pharmacy. “I wasn’t sure what you guys already had here, so I just picked up a couple things; some tissues, vapor rub, gatorade because I know you’re probably dehydrated, saline spray, and ole reliable, NyQuil.”

You smile fondly at him, still surprised by his generosity even after all these years, and hug him from behind, nuzzling your face in between his shoulder blades. He tenses up briefly before chuckling softly and melting into your embrace.

“You’re my favorite person alive right now, Eds,” You sigh warmly and his heart swells with joy at the sound. It takes him back to the first time you said that to him, at your eighth birthday party.

“You’re my favorite person alive right now!” You’d shouted as you engulfed him in a big hug, practically tackling him with the force of it.

He’d gotten you an art set that year. It was nothing fancy, just a cheap one from the local toy store, but, in your eyes, it was the greatest gift you had ever received.

That memory combined with the feeling of your arms wrapped around his waist has Eddie fighting off the urge to tell you how much he loves you. Instead, he settles for turning around in your embrace so that he can hug you back.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel well, jitterbug,” He murmurs into your hair as he takes in the sweet smell of your shampoo. You hug him just a bit tighter in response.

The two of you stay like that, wrapped up in each others’ arms, for a while, far past exceeding the time limit of what can be considered a purely platonic hug. Although, neither of you seem to mind, nor do you seem eager to let go. Eventually, though, you do let go, heat rising to your face as you move out of Eddie’s arms.

“Carrie first?” You ask as you go to grab the stack of VHS tapes that Eddie brought.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Eddie clears his throat as rosie blush tints his pale skin from the apples of his cheeks to the tips of his ears, “I’ll start the pizza.”

He grabs one of the frozen pizzas he bought and moves into the kitchen to preheat the oven, sparing a single glance back into the living room so that he can see what you have on under that dress when you bend over to fiddle with the VCR. Eddie’s slightly disappointed when he sees a pair of short dolphin shorts rather than the pretty cotton panties that he was expecting.

Perv, he mentally berates himself, shaking his head as if to clear his mind of all the impure thoughts, and then turning to focus on the task at hand. Eddie waits a few minutes for the oven to heat up before tearing off the pizza’s plastic wrapping and sliding it in the oven. He then sets your mom’s little plastic tomato kitchen timer to eighteen minutes before joining you in the living room again.

“Pizza should be done in 18,” He informs you casually as he flops down onto the couch.

“Do you wanna wait for it to get done before starting the movie, or do you wanna just go ahead and watch it?” You ask him, now knelt in front of the VCR with your dress just barely covering up your shorts.

“Go ahead and press play, bug, I’ll get the pizza when it’s ready,” Eddie replies. You do as requested before scrambling to turn off the lights in the living room. You’re about to make your way to the recliner when you notice Eddie making grabby hands at you.

“C’mere, indulge me, bug,” He pouts and you roll your eyes, as if his pleading doesn’t make your heart skip a beat. You give in, not that you were putting up much of a fight in the first place, and plop down next to Eddie, allowing him to maneuver you until you’re nearly in his lap, your bare legs pressed against his as he clings to you.

God bless whoever designed Boromir’s outfit for that movie, you think.

The two of you spend the rest of the night like that, watching movies and cuddling, save for the few times you both have to get up to either grab something or use the bathroom. It’s not much different from the last few Halloweens you spent together, except that the preamble to this movie night was not a brief bout of trick-or-treating (Eddie may be an adult, but he isn’t ready to give that up just yet) due to your illness. Other than that, the only real differences are your sickly state and the fact that you’ve opted for a more revealing costume this year. Granted, the latter difference does get Eddie a little too excited, especially with your plump thighs out on display, one even making contact with his own. So excited, in fact, that he has to leave to go take care of himself in the bathroom halfway through the second movie. If you notice that he’s been gone for an inordinate amount of time, you don’t say anything, and for that he is eternally grateful.

#jitterbug and grub #halloween fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #perv!eddie #best friend au #best friend!eddie #best friend!eddie munson #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #eddie stranger things #stranger things #stranger things vol 4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things au #sick fic #sick!reader #eddie munson sick fic #pol’s greatest hits

[pollenallergie]

My Favorite Person | e.m.

A/N: This author is a sucker for a good slow burn and what could be slower than that which spans a whole freakin decade. I mean, who doesn’t love baby love? Also, the prices of the toys mentioned in this fic are based on actual toy prices from the ‘70s bc I did a ton of unnecessary research for this.

Thank you so much @mxcheese for beta-reading this!! You’re the best!

CW: potentially inaccurate portrayals of children’s conversations, brief mentions of Eddie’s shitty father, two curse words (i think???), heavy idolization of Dolly Parton, the reader’s dad is kind of a jerk to Eddie

Eddie watches you skip joyously around your fourth grade classroom, handing out the invitations for your birthday party this weekend. He’s already made peace with the fact that he isn’t going to get one this time around. Your party’s at your dad’s house this year and, due to his dad’s reputation, he isn’t exactly welcome over there. So, the way he sees it, Eddie stands about as much of a chance of being invited to your party as he does getting a date with Faye Dunaway. Despite his resigned acceptance, he can’t help but feel jealous of your other friends.

Eddie tears his gaze from you and puts his head down on his desk, using his crossed arms as a make-shift pillow. He tries to think about something other than you and your stupid birthday party, conjuring up guesses as to what his dad might serve for dinner tonight and picturing what it might’ve looked like when the mean aunts got flattened by the peach in James and the Giant Peach; the latter causing him to giggle to himself. However, Eddie’s thoughts are soon interrupted when he hears a familiar voice call out his name. Almost immediately after, he feels a tiny finger gently poke his shoulder as the smell of your apple-scented shampoo fills his nostrils.

Eddie lifts his head up out of the dim fortress created by his arms to see you standing next to his desk, smiling at him sweetly. Only then does he notice how your braids have begun to unravel and your jumper has gotten a bit of dirt on it, most likely from the exhaustive play you did at recess. He resists the sudden urge to look down at his own clothes, wondering if they got as dirty as yours did today. Probably dirtier, he thinks.

“Hi, Eddie,” you greet him cheerfully, “you wanna come to my birthday party?” You ask simply, albeit with a slight lisp due to having recently lost one of your front teeth, as you hold out an invitation to him.

“Really?” Eddie asks in disbelief as he hesitantly accepts the invitation from you, half-expecting you to yank it back from him and announce that you were just kidding.

“Yeah, of course! Just don’t get me a present that costs more than ten bucks; my daddy says that’s the only rule,” You explain, causing his eyebrows to furrow.

“Why not?” He asks.

You shrug, “I dunno, something about him not wantin’ other parents to spend all their money on me.”

“Oh, okay,” Eddie doesn’t really get that, but he nods anyway.

“So, you’ll come?” You ask giddily.

“Yeah, if my dad says I can,” He replies, causing you to flash him a grin that’s just about a mile wide, a grin that he couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Great! I’ll see ya then!” You exclaim blithely as you start skipping back to your desk. He still wears that grin on his face as you go.

In fact, that grin doesn’t leave Eddie’s cherubic, freckled face until later that afternoon, when he comes home to find his uncle sitting at the kitchen table wearing a somber expression and nursing a mug of black coffee, his dad nowhere to be found.

“Uncle Wayne?” Eddie asks as he drops his backpack off by the door.

Wayne sighs, rubbing a hand over his scruff, “Hey, kid.”

“Where’s dad?” Eddie asks curiously.

“Your dad’s in a little bit of trouble right now, so I’m gonna be lookin’ after you for a little while,” Wayne informs him as he offers him a sympathetic smile.

Eddie, however, seems a bit apathetic about the whole situation, simply asking, “For how long?” This is the third time his dad has skipped out on him this month alone, so he’s not really phased by his sudden disappearance.

“I don’t know, pal,” Wayne says truthfully.

Eddie’s brow furrows, “I got invited to a party today. I was gonna ask dad if I could go,” he informs his uncle.

“Yeah? Whose party?” Wayne asks, offering his nephew a happier smile. His smile gets just a bit wider when Eddie tells him that it’s your birthday party. He’s well aware of who you are; you’ve been friends with Eddie for a while now and he can tell you come from a good family. Or, at least, he knows that your mom’s a good lady, she’s offered to take care of Eddie many times when his dad’s gone off to do god knows what without him. Unfortunately, Wayne’s had to take her up on that offer far too many times for his liking, but she’s never minded.

“If you still wanna go, that shouldn’t be a problem, bud. Her mom’s place is only a short walk away after all,” Wayne informs him.

Eddie nervously chews at the collar of his shirt, only stopping temporarily to say, “‘S not at her mom’s. It’s at her dad’s.”

Shit, Wayne thinks.

“Can I still go?” Eddie asks, his rich brown eyes silently pleading to his uncle to say yes.

How could Wayne ever refuse him?

“Yeah, bud, you can go. I’ll take ya,” Wayne tells him and, despite having just learned about his dad ditching him once again, Eddie’s face lights up with a brilliant smile.

“Thank you, Uncle Wayne!” Eddie exclaims as he wraps the man up in a warm, grateful hug.

Wayne chuckles, “So what do you wanna get her, kid?”

The question catches Eddie off guard as he was in the middle of internally celebrating that his uncle said yes.

“What?” Eddie asks after pulling away from his uncle. Wayne gets up from his place at the kitchen table and drops his now empty mug off in the sink before turning to lean against the counter and look at Eddie.

“You got any ideas for what you’re gonna get her for her gift?” Wayne asks.

Eddie begins to panic. In his eight year old mind, this is the end of the world; he finally gets invited to a birthday party and doesn’t even know what to get the birthday girl.

“W-what- What do kids like her even like?” Eddie asks as he begins to nervously wring his hands together.

“What d’ya mean? She’s your friend, kid, surely you’ve gotta know what kind of stuff she likes,” Wayne says as his dry, cracked lips curl up into an amused smile.

“I just- I don’t- She already has so much. I mean, she gets two Christmases, you know? What if I get her something that she already has?” Eddie asks, his face scrunching up adorably as he looks up at his uncle.

Wayne chuckles, “Yeah, I know, bud. You know, you could always ask her what she wants,” Wayne offers as he moves back to the dinner table and slowly lowers himself back into his seat, Eddie mirrors him as he moves to sit in the seat just across from him.

“But then she’ll know exactly what I’m gonna get her. Doesn’t that kinda ruin the surprise?” Eddie asks, causing Wayne to sigh.

“Fair point,” Wayne pauses as he eyes his nephew carefully, “What’s the toy we kept seein’ on tv around christmas time? The one with the doll that drinks and stuff?”

Eddie snorts humorously, “Baby Alive?”

“Yeah, yeah, that one. We could get her that.”

“Too expensive, there’s a ten dollar gift limit,” Eddie sighs.

“Says who?” Wayne laughs in disbelief.

“Her dad,” Eddie grumbles.

“What kind of dad puts a dollar limit on his kid’s birthday presents?” Wayne scoffs. Eddie simply shrugs in response.

“Well,” Wayne trails off before continuing, “does she like to read? We could get her a book.”

“I- I don’t know,” Eddie sighs. He does know, you love to read and you’ve told him that many times before, but his mind draws a blank under pressure.

“I’ll tell you what… How about you do some investigating this week, find out what kinda stuff she wants. Then, when I get paid on Friday, we can go to the toy store and see if we can’t find something that she might like. How’s that sound?” Wayne asks.

“Okay,” Eddie sighs.

“Yeah? Sounds good?”

“Yeah, that sounds good, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie confirms.

“Alrighty then, use those detective skills and report back to me, alright?”

Eddie does just that. For the next four days at school, he pays extra special attention to you. So much so, that you’ve begun to take notice. Sometimes you think you can feel those rich coffee brown eyes on you and every time you catch his gaze, the abrupt flush of his cheeks lets you know that you’re right. At first, you chalk it up to him being excited that he got invited to your party. After all, the two of you didn’t get to celebrate it together last year because you’d gotten your tonsils removed a week before your birthday.

However, when you continue to catch him looking at you later on in the week, you begin to worry. And, given the fact that you’ve yet to fully learn social cues, you decide to confront Eddie on it. On Friday, after school dismissal, you catch him on the bus, sliding into the seat next to him before anyone else can take it. He suddenly looks up at you, his eyes widening slightly in mild shock.

“Hey,” you said somewhat breathlessly as you had to sprint to the bus after nearly getting on the wrong one; you were forgetful like that sometimes.

“Hi,” Eddie replies hesitantly.

“Did I do somethin’ to upset you?” You ask abruptly, catching Eddie off guard.

“W-what d’ya mean?”

“You’ve been lookin’ at me a lot, but not, like, talkin’ to me or anything. Are you mad at me or somethin’?” You ask innocently, your head quizzically cocking to the side a bit as you look at Eddie. In that moment, you remind the young boy of a puppy dog, all curious and cute.

“No! No, I’m not, I swear. I just,” Eddie trails off with a sigh, pulling his shirt collar up to his nose to hide his embarrassed blush before shyly admitting, “I don’t know what to get you for your birthday so I’ve been watching you to see what you like.”

“What I like?”

“Yeah, ya know, what kind stuff you like to do for fun and stuff like that.” He explains, his blush now spreading to the tips of ears as he lets his shirt collar slide off his nose before catching it in his mouth so he can gnaw on it nervously.

You giggle and he finds himself wondering if someone can actually die from embarrassment.

You nudge him gently with your elbow and smile at him sweetly, “Eddie you already know all that stuff!”

“Y-yeah, but I just, I don’t know what you want,” He sighs, “I don’t wanna get you the wrong thing or somethin’ you already have.”

“You could’ve just asked me what I want for my birthday, silly billy.”

“I know, but I didn’t want you to know what I was gonna get you beforehand.” He explains and you giggle some more.

“You really are silly, Eds. I would’ve just given you some general ideas, not told you exactly what to get me! I’m not dumb,” You tease.

“Oh, r-right,” Eddie stutters.

“I s’pose you don’t really need to anymore now that you’ve been spying on me,” You tease him some more.

“Well, I didn’t really come up with much. I mean, at best, I was thinking about getting you a new bookmark,” Eddie admits sheepishly.

“Well,” You trail off, thinking of some options to give him, “I like drawing, so you could get me a coloring book or stuff to color with. I also really, really like playin’ board games, so you could always get me one of those. I already have Candy Land, Boggle, Mouse Trap, and Operation, so don’t get me those games. Or you could get me a new doll, my brother ripped the heads off a few of mine, so I need to get some new ones,” You ramble on about gifts that he could get you for the majority of the bus ride home while Eddie just stares at you with comically wide eyes, desperately trying to follow along.

Finally you inhale a big breath, slightly winded from your incessant talking, and flash him a warm small. “Really, you could get me just about anything and I’d still be your best friend for life, Eddie,” You inform him.

“For life?” Eddie asks, tone laced with uncertainty and disbelief.

“Mhm. Forever and ever, amen,” You reply while doing your best imitation of a pastor on sunday morning; your tone a theatrical combination of pomposity and nobility. Eddie giggles in response.

All too soon, the bus turns onto your street and pulls to a stop near the curb. You let out a dramatic sigh, disappointed that your conversation is, in your opinion, cut short, before flashing Eddie a smile so bright it nearly blinds him. “I’ll see ya tomorrow!” You remind him cheerfully before hopping up from your seat, grabbing your backpack, and rushing off the bus with all the other kids that live on your block.

The scent of apples stays with him until he gets off the bus at his own stop later on. Even then, he swears he can still smell it a little bit. In a way, that smell actually helps him remember what you’d told him; he mulls over the ideas you’d given him as he walks the rest of the short distance to his trailer.

Eddie wouldn’t mind having a best friend for life, especially if it’s you. He remembers that, keeps it in the back of his mind as he coaches his uncle on what to look for at the toy store during the car ride there. Technically, he doesn’t know exactly what he wants to get you yet, so he simply tells Uncle Wayne to keep an eye out for something that fits any of the suggestions you’d given him. At that, Wayne can’t help but feel like he’s in over his head.

When he was a boy, Wayne would gravitate more towards sports, mostly baseball, so all of these modern toys and games were really unfamiliar territory for him. Nonetheless, Wayne tries his best to find something that you might like because he can tell how important this is to Eddie.

They’ve only been perusing through the aisles for a measly fifteen minutes when Eddie spots the gift. An art set chalk full of all the supplies a kid could ever hope for, water colors, a few brushes, a tiny pad of multi-media paper, oil pastels, colored pencils, and even a vast array of markers, all contained in a cardboard case that’s been painted to look like it was made out of a rich, earthy wood. It’s perfect. Art class had always been your favorite in school and you’d even mentioned wanting some colored pencils to him, so it certainly checks all of his boxes. Even better, it’s only seven bucks.

Score.

Eddie’s practically vibrating with excitement as he rides back home with his uncle, hand tightly clutching onto (and crinkling) the roll of treasure map wrapping paper they’d also picked up at the store. You’re gonna love this, he knows you will. He can’t wait for you to open his present tomorrow.

When Eddie gets home that night, he sets in search of the second part of your present; a tiny little elven figurine that came in one of the boxes of mismatched toys, individuals missing from their sets, that Wayne had gotten from a garage sale a few years ago and gifted to him for his birthday. Last summer he’d shown it to you while the two of you were playing on the playground situated at the front of the park, and the sight of your eyes lighting up with wonder as you gazed at the figurine has remained engraved in his memory ever since. It’s one of his favorite toys, but he's willing to part with it so long as he gets to see that gleeful expression of yours again.

The next morning, Eddie wakes up bright and early to start getting ready for your party. He’s practically buzzing with excitement as he quickly wolfs down a short stack of smiley-faced pancakes prepared by the world’s greatest uncle, Wayne, for breakfast.

Said uncle chuckles at his nephew’s giddy excitement as he frantically searches for the perfect outfit to wear to your party, finally landing on the navy sweater that he had worn to picture day this year and his nicest pair of blue jeans. He then makes you a card out of some plain white paper, decorating it with the generic-brand crayons that Santa got him for christmas and taping it shut with the Fred Flinstone sticker he’d gotten at his latest doctor’s appointment. Eddie finishes the card in the nick of time, as not long after he’s put away his crayons, Wayne’s calling his name to let him know that it’s time to go. He grabs your presents and rushes out to Wayne’s car excitedly.

Wayne follows him out, shutting and locking the door behind him, before sliding into the driver’s seat. Eddie tries his luck at sitting in the passenger seat, but Wayne flashes him a disapproving expression and motions for Eddie to sit in the back. The young boy sighs and reluctantly climbs back there before buckingly up. Wayne then turns the key in the ignition and peels out of the makeshift driveway in front of their trailer.

The drive to your house isn’t terribly long, at least not by rural Midwestern standards. Your dad’s place is situated in the outskirts of Hawkins, so Eddie has the absolute pleasure of getting to see all the cows and horses roaming the pastures on the way there. Wayne, however, is sort of desensitized to the wonder of livestock after having lived in Appalachia for most of his childhood.

“Hey, did you know cow farts are bad for the ozone layer?” Eddie asks, offering a random, not fact prompted by the sight of the roaming cattle. Of course, it’s not entirely true, but it’s close enough.

Wayne snorts humorously, “You know, son, can’t say that I did.”

After passing a few more pastures and cornfields, the two finally arrive at your house, only to be met with the sight of a long, narrow, gravel driveway which leads past a dense patch of spruce and pine trees and up to a house with pretty blue siding. Eddie’s never seen your dad’s house before, so he’s pretty shocked at the sight that greets him. While your home certainly isn’t as big or ornate as some of the houses clustered in the local neighborhoods, it’s still pretty nice, and the plot of land it sits on is much bigger than he was expecting. Frankly, Eddie’s a little pissed that you didn’t tell him you lived on a Christmas tree farm. Not to mention, he’s starting to get the impression that you’re filthy stinkin’ rich.

Little does he know, your grandpa bought this once undesirable plot of land for dirt cheap back in the 30s and spent years fixing it up, even building that quaint little house that you call home with his own two hands. Truthfully, the house’s only luxuries are the octagonal above-ground pool your dad installed in the backyard a couple of years ago and the few acres of land that it sits on, though most of it is taken up by the rows of spruces and pines. Other than that, it’s really nothing more than a modest little ranch house, nothing too out of the ordinary for rural Indiana.

However, in Eddie’s eyes, if this is the kind of luxury that carpentry, with a side of tree farming, can get you, then he now knows exactly what he wants to be when he grows up. He even tells Wayne as much while he’s driving up the long driveway to your house, to which the man huffs out a laugh.

“A carpenter, huh?”

“Yeah, like that Jesus guy,” Eddie says nonchalantly to which Wayne lets out a proper laugh.

He’s still laughing as he pulls into the patch of short, sparse grass where the other parents have parked their cars. When Wayne unbuckles his seatbelt and turns the key, taking it out of the ignition and shutting the car off, Eddie’s filled with a mild sense of dread.

“What are you doing?” He asks his uncle as he unbuckles his own seatbelt.

Wayne looks back at him in the reflection of the rear view mirror with an expression of sheer confusion. “I’m gettin’ out the car, what’re you doin’?” Wayne asks teasingly, causing Eddie to sigh.

“Uncle Wayne, please, don’t. I promise, I’ll be fine by myself,” Eddie pleads.

“Nuh uh, I’m coming in, bud, at least for the first few minutes,” Wayne refutes. The man just wants to look out for his nephew. He knows why Eddie’s never been allowed to come over here before, knows how your dad and the rest of the adults in this godforsaken town feeling about all who carry the Munson family name, so, the way Wayne sees it, he’d be an idiot not to be apprehensive about how your dad and the other parents might treat Eddie when he’s not around.

“C’mon,” Eddie groans exasperatedly.

“C’mon,” Wayne mocks him, “I paid for that gift, the least you could do is let me see the look on the birthday girl’s face when she opens it.”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbles.

“‘Sides, having you around all these trees is a hazard, someone’s gotta make sure you don’t try to climb one and break your arm again,” Wayne teases as the two of them hop out of the car, shutting their doors behind themselves.

Eddie flashes him a look of pure annoyance as they begin to walk up towards the house, “That’s not funny.”

Wayne grins, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling with the change in his expression, “It’s a little bit funny.”

Eddie rolls his eyes before walking up the few concrete stairs leading to your tiny front porch. He walks up to the front door and rings the doorbell politely with his free hand, the other one holding your gift, Wayne follows his lead. Your older sister answers the door and, honestly, Eddie and Wayne are both extremely grateful to be met with the sight of a familiar face.

“Well hey there, Sunshine,” Eddie greets her warmly by her nickname; it’s an ironic nickname, one given to her by your mom the minute she hit puberty and morphed into a mass of pure teenage angst.

Despite her perpetual moodiness, she flashes the two of them a warm grin before calling out to you, “Hey, dweeb, Eddie’s here.” She then invites them both to come inside.

Eddie barely makes it two steps past the threshold of the front door when you suddenly emerge, seemingly out of nowhere and adorned in a nice, pink dress that your mom had made for you and a cowgirl hat that, despite being the same color as your dress, is too glitzy to actually match it. Just as suddenly as you appear, you’re abruptly flinging yourself onto him, wrapping him up in a warm, albeit tight, hug. He stumbles back with the sheer force of it, but Wayne reaches out and steadies the two of you before you can go tumbling to the ground.

“You made it!” You cheer excitedly.

“Happy Birthday,” Eddie says as he reciprocates your embrace with the same level of enthusiasm, his face lighting up with a grin that seems to stretch from ear to ear.

“Hi, Uncle Wayne,” You greet his uncle politely while releasing Eddie from your crushing embrace.

You then grab one of the young boy’s hands and begin to pull him into the other room while saying, “C’mon, everyone’s downstairs. My dad decorated our basement to make it look like one of those dance halls you see in the movies, the ones with all the square dancing, and it… looks… amazing!”

You practically drag the poor kid down the stairs as you excitedly ramble on about all the decorations and party games that your dad and his girlfriend set up for your party. Wayne and your sister aren’t far behind, following you downstairs; the sound of children chattering away and country music softly playing in the background fills their ears as they descend down the stairs.

“This party has a theme?” Wayne asks your sister. All the birthday parties that he’s ever been to have been just that, a birthday party; nothing more than a cake and maybe one or two party games just to keep the kids entertained. This party, however, is impressively elaborate; from the detailed decorations to the surprisingly on-theme games, you’ve even given each kid a cowboy hat of their own to wear, though none of them are as ornate as yours.

“Yeah, she’s been begging my dad for a Dolly Parton-themed party for months now, he figured a hoedown-themed one was a good compromise,” She explains, causing Wayne to chuckle. Really, he should’ve expected that; you’ve been obsessed with Dolly ever since you heard Coat of Many Colors on the radio a couple summers ago.

As you and Eddie run off to go join your other friends, your sister leads Wayne over to the side of the basement that the adults have congregated in.

“Dad, this is Wayne, Eddie’s uncle,” She introduces him, “Wayne, this is my dad.” Having fulfilled her greeting obligations, your sister soon ditches the party to go do angsty teenage things with her friends upstairs, abandoning Wayne with your dad and the few other parents that chose to stick around.

Your dad offers him a nod of acknowledgement before asking, “You want a beer?”

Wayne curls one of his eyebrows up and eyes your dad suspiciously, “Is that a trick question?”

Your dad chuckles, “God, no, it’s just the only way I can get through these things,” He says, referencing the hoard of nine and ten year olds gathered in his home.

Your dad then heads over to the cooler sat atop the card table that the other parents are sitting around and fishes out two bottles of beer, one for him and one for Wayne. As he hands Wayne one of the beers, both men settle into a conversation about the latest NASCAR race, prompted by the Richard Petty baseball cap that Wayne’s wearing. It’s awkward at first, given both men’s preconceived notions about each other, but the tension dissipates as the party carries on.

Your dad lets you and your friends bounce from activity to activity for a couple of hours before deciding that it’s time for cake and presents. So, everyone gathers around the long folding table set up in the middle of the room, Eddie sat right by your side, all watching as your dad brings out your homemade birthday cake and begins to light the candles. Once each waxy stick is topped with a delicate flame, everyone begins to sing to you and excitedly wiggle in your seat, too gleeful to contain it. When the celebratory song finally comes to a close, you blow out your candles with the encouragement of all your guests.

Apparently no one’s ever told you how wishes work before, or perhaps you know and simply don’t care, because you immediately turn to Eddie and excitedly inform him, “I wished for a corner piece of cake and to meet Dolly.” Unfortunately, Eddie notices that, in making your wish, you failed to account for the fact that your birthday cake is round, but he still hopes that the other part of your wish will come true.

In the rare, fleeting moment of calm that settles over the party after your dad has distributed a piece of cake to each kid, you slide your seat even closer to Eddie’s before digging into your slice. Eddie flushes at the sudden closeness and tries his best to ignore how nervous it makes him as he begins eating away at his own slice of cake.

“Eddie,” You softly call out to him, getting his attention without alerting your other guests.

“Yeah?” He replies through a mouthful of sugary sweet cake.

“Are you having fun?” You ask him suddenly, your bright eyes drilling holes into the side of his head as they stare at him unwaveringly.

“Y-yeah, I’m having fun,” Eddie replies as he bashfully meets your gaze.

“So you,” you trail off nervously, your fingers dropping your fork down on your plate in favor of picking at your cuticles, “You like hanging out with me?”

Eddie turns slightly in his chair, now facing you and fixing you with a quizzical gaze, “Yeah, you’re my friend,” He reassures you.

“Good,” You practically breathe a sigh of relief, “I think next year I might just invite you to my birthday party,” You confess, whispering your words so that the other kids won’t hear them.

“Why?” Eddie asks.

“Cause I really just wanted to hang out with you today, but that’s kinda hard when all my other friends are here too,” You explain as if it makes perfect sense, which, of course, it does to you.

“Me? Why’d you wanna hang out with me?”

“Because,” You sigh, “We don’t really play together much anymore, not since school started. But we used to hang out all the time last summer.”

Eddie frowns, “Yeah, I know.”

“Why don’t we hang out anymore, Eddie? Did I do something wrong?” You ask softly.

“You didn’t, I promise. I just- You have so many friends, so you don’t really need me,” Eddie reasons, causing your lips to turn down in a frown as well. His gaze falls to his lap as he swallows around the lump in his throat.

“But, Eddie, I like you more than them,” You confess, your tiny hand, with nails painted bubblegum pink, reaching out to grasp his own for the second time today.

Eddie’s head snaps up out of shock, his gaze meeting yours once again, “You do?”

You giggle sweetly, a smile breaking out on your cherubic face, “Of course I do! Eddie, they’re not good friends, not like you are. They all think I’m weird and sometimes they pick on me because of that, but not you, you’re always nice to me. Plus, you read all the coolest books and you’re so good at everything,” You confess.

“I am?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah! Like you’re really good at skipping rocks on the lake and you play guitar, which is so cool! Oh and you always draw the coolest stuff in art class.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, silly billy, you do. Eddie, you’re like the coolest person I know, besides my momma, of course,” You tell him.

While Eddie certainly agrees that your mom is really cool, he’s never really thought of himself as being cool before.

“I’m cool?” He asks doubtfully.

“The coolest,” You reassure him, wearing the cheesiest smile on your face all the while. Eddie can’t help but mirror your gleeful expression; the two of you now grinning at each other, lost in your own little world. The two of you are suddenly pulled out of that private little world when your dad walks over and gently rests a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, honey, go on and finish up your cake now so you can open your presents,” Your dad says in an odd hybrid of a midwestern accent and a slow, almost southern sort of drawl, the kind of accent you get when you spend your whole life living on a farm in the rural Midwest, the kind that makes it sound like he’s perpetually speaking with a toothpick in his mouth and a couple beers in his system. He squats down beside you to plant a kiss on your cheek.

“Daddy.”

“Yes ma’am?”

“This is my friend Eddie,” You say enthusiastically, gesturing to the boy sitting to your left.

“Yeah, I know, pumpkin. Hurry up and finish that cake, alright?” He says in a tone that’s plenty nice, but still dismissive all the same, your smile falters at the sound of it and Eddie deflates just a little bit too.

Eddie doesn’t know what he did to make your dad hate him so much, but he finds himself wanting to apologize to him anyways. However, your dad walks away, rejoining the adults, before Eddie can even utter a word. Perhaps it’s for the best, though, because, as soon as your dad’s gone, you’re turning back to face Eddie and flashing him another megawatt smile. This smile, however, is a bit more devious than the ones you’d sported earlier on.

“Go on now, honey, finish your cake so I can open my presents,” You jokingly tell him in a near perfect imitation of your dad, one so good that it makes you both giggle.

Nevertheless, the two of you do wolf down your slices of cake fairly quickly, both eager for you to open your presents. After everyone else has finished too, you move to sit at the chair that your dad has positioned by the table that everyone had set their presents on, and all of the other kids circle around you, including Eddie. Then you finally start opening your gifts, beginning with the ones sitting closest to you on the table. You end up opening a few gifts before you finally get around to Eddie’s. They’re nice gifts too. Ellie Wilkinson got you a brand new doll house and Isaac Donaldson got you a chemistry set.

So much for that ten dollar limit, Wayne thinks.

After seeing all the nice gifts that the other kids got you, Eddie’s left feeling a little insecure about what he’d gotten you. However, the pure joy that radiates from your entire being as you rip off the treasure map wrapping paper of his gift, along with the mile wide smile that lights up your features as your gaze rests on the art set he got you, serves as the perfect source of reassurance. Your joy increases tenfold when you spot the wizard figurine that Eddie had snuck in with the art set.

Wayne immediately recognizes that little figurine and fixes his nephew with a look of pure disapproval from across the room. However, Eddie can’t find it in him to feel guilty or ashamed for going behind his uncle’s back, not when you’re smiling so sweetly.

“Who’s it from?” You ask excitedly, your feet tapping against the floor in a speedy, energetic rhythm.

“Read the card, honey,” Your dad tells you as he hands you the card that Eddie made for you this morning. You grab it from him eagerly and open it, reading the words written on the inside of it aloud, “Happy Birthday,“ you read your name as he’s written it on the card, following it with, “Love, Eddie Munson.”

In a flash of pink, you’re hopping up from your chair excitedly and bounding over to the curly-haired boy dressed in blue.

“Eddie, you are my favorite person alive right now!” You cheer gleefully as you catapulte over to him with your arms outstretched; once again, nearly knocking him over with the force of your hug.

While that’s not exactly the lifelong best-friendship you’d promised, Eddie thinks being your favorite person for even a moment might be worth losing his favorite action figure.

#jitterbug and grub #best friend au #best friend!eddie munson #best friend!eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson ficlet #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie stranger things #stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #stranger things fluff #stranger things 4 #stranger things vol 4 #stranger things season 4 #wayne munson #uncle wayne #eddie munson x fem!reader #pol’s greatest hits

[pollenallergie]

Jitterbug | E.M.

A/N: I’m in the mood for some cheesy mutual pining at the moment so here’s a best friend!Eddie fic based off this hc <3 Edit: The movie mentioned in this fic didn’t come out until 1985, but oh well… I’m too lazy to change it.

TW: none, I think? Reader’s pronouns aren’t specified and Eddie uses pretty gender-neutral terms of endearment for them. Nevermind he calls you a princess, I am so sorry, I totally forgot about that. Although, it is specified that they would wear a dress to a wedding, so take that for what you will. Also, I tried to keep the explicit language to a minimum since this is a fluffy fic.

18+ only

do not interact if you’re under 18 years old!

If you asked him, Eddie would deny it, but, secretly, he lives for these moments; moments where he gets to watch you, to hear you yearn for love. Perhaps it should be bittersweet, listening to you talk about the kind of love you’d like to have, all while under the impression that you probably don’t want to have that kind of love with him. However, Eddie gets an odd sense of joy out of watching your features alight with the joy that only daydreams of love and romance can bring, out of listening to you passionately describe all your deepest wants and desires. You’re such a romantic, Eddie loves it. He wants, so desperately, to be the one to make your dreams come true, but, for now, he’ll settle for listening to you talk about them.

Currently, the two of you are camped out in the living room of his trailer, watching Secret Admirer, the latest romcom that you’ve decided to torture him with. He only endures it because he knows that, once this garbage little love story is over, you’ll launch into one of your long-winded spiels about what love should be like, what you want your future love to be like. A wonderful bonus comes in the form of your passionate reactions to the events of the film; the way you giggle at Eddie mocking the protagonist's cliche friends, the way you adorably clutch the blanket closer to you whenever the protagonist caresses or kisses his secret admirer’s cheek, the way your brow furrows and your top lip curls when the protagonist’s dad kisses another woman, not to mention the way you fluster during the intimate scenes. You wear your heart on your sleeve, even when you don’t mean to; it’s one of Eddie’s favorite things about you.

By the time the credits roll by, Eddie can tell that you’re just barely holding in your commentary on the film. He decides to indulge you, as always, and asks, “So what’d you think, jitterbug? Was it worth the five-dollar rental fee?”

You sigh, pulling the blanket closer to your chest as you unconsciously snuggle up closer to your best friend, who responds in kind by wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “It was okay.” You reply, though, you're not very convincing.

Eddie chuckles, “Just okay?” Eddie whistles before continuing, “That’s quite a harsh critique coming from you, bug. What didn’t you like about it?” He teases.

“I don’t like how willing Debbie’s mom and Michael’s dad were to just throw away their marriages over some stupid letter. Love shouldn't be like that. Marriage shouldn't be like that.” You answer, looking up at him with those bright eyes that he loves so much. "Besides, it hits too close to home, you know?"

Like most children of divorce, you’re all too familiar with infidelity. You often confess to Eddie that you're worried that all love is doomed to end like that sooner or later, with one person cheating on the other, breaking their heart. It makes his heart ache for you. Of course, Eddie didn’t have any good examples of love to look up to either; his mom left when he was young and his dad wasn’t the loving type. However, the sweet old couple living in the trailer a few lots over makes him believe that sort of love, the kind that isn’t doomed to end in despair, truly exists. Eddie wishes that he could show you that kind of love. Granted, the only things preventing him from doing that were his own cowardice and your severe obliviousness.

Eddie curses every single person who’s ever made you feel less than. He curses society for making you feel like there’s something wrong with your body, like you aren’t pretty enough. Most of all, he blames them both for making you think that no one could ever be attracted to you, and for making you oblivious to the affection people showed you. You’re stunning and, if you could only see it, then you’d surely see the way the guys around town looked at you; guys like Adam Polanski who spent the entirety of sophomore year following you around like a lost puppy until Eddie finally told him to give it a rest, like that dirtbag Dave Harris who lives in the trailer next to you and leers at you whenever you take the trash out in those tiny little pajama shorts of yours, or like Eddie, your best friend, the guy who’s been hopelessly in love with you since the sixth grade. Hell, Eddie even knows of a couple of girls that have had crushes on you. However, you’ve never noticed them, any of them; always too caught up in that busy mind of yours.

“Not to mention Cliff DeYoung is just plain creepy.” You add.

“Yeah?” Eddie huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, he reminds me of that pervy custodian from the public library, the one that always hits on my mom.” You shudder at the memory.

“What else didn’t you like?” Eddie probes.

“I-I don’t think I like the idea of secret admirers very much.” You admit as you begin to bashfully pick at your cuticles.

“No?”

“No. I think it’s more special, more meaningful when someone tells you how they feel without the shield of anonymity; it shows that they like you enough to take that risk.” You explain and Eddie hums in agreement.

A brief silence settles between the two of you, but Eddie soon interrupts it when he notices your eyes fighting to stay open. “Are you stayin’ the night?” Eddie asks softly.

“I want to, but I hate making you sleep on the couch.” You murmur. “We should've had this movie night at my place so that we could both crash in my bed afterward.”

“It’s a short walk,” Eddie points out, “we could just head over there now.”

You offer a mere hum of acknowledgment, clearly thinking it over.

“We’ll have to walk back here for breakfast in the morning. ‘S no food at my house right now.” You inform him, tone laced with exhaustion.

“I’ll grab a box of cereal to take with us,” Eddie replies before carefully untangling himself from you and getting up off the couch. He walks over to the kitchen cabinet where they keep the non-perishables and carelessly throws open the door.

“D’ya want S’Mores Crunch or Raisin Bran?” Eddie asks.

“God, you guys have awful taste in cereal.” You groan as you pull yourself up off the couch, letting out a big yawn and heaving a massive stretch before you continue, “I s’pose s’mores is the least offensive choice.”

“So picky,” Eddie mumbles teasingly as he swipes the box of overly sugary cereal from the cabinet. He then moves on to the fridge.

“Don’t steal Uncle Wayne’s milk; we can just eat dry cereal.” You say, as if reading his mind, as you slip on your Keds.

“You’re an absolute psycho, jitterbug.” Eddie teases as he grabs the carton of milk, stealing it anyways.

“And you’re gonna be dead tomorrow when your uncle comes home to a milkless fridge, grub.” You reply as you shrug on your jacket before grabbing the milk from Eddie so that he has at least one free hand to help him slip on his Reeboks. “I’ll make sure to wear a nice dress to your funeral.” You feign somberness as you pat Eddie on the shoulder, causing him to scoff.

“C’mon, drama queen,” Eddie says once he’s slipped on his coat and shoes, “let’s get you to bed.”

The two of you walk in silence to the other side of the trailer park, where your mom’s cozy double-wide sits atop a decently sized plot. Your mom’s place is much nicer than Eddie and Wayne’s since her office job pays a bit more handsomely, but you and her both still receive your fair share of ridicule for not living in a house. Your dad lives in a house, it’s a nice house too. Eddie’s been there a couple times, but only when your dad wasn't home. Your dad doesn’t much care for Eddie, but that’s ok with him because your mom absolutely adores him and he likes her more anyways. Besides, your dad’s disapproval has never really gotten in the way of your friendship with Eddie.

When the two of you finally make it to your mom’s, you unlock the door to find your dog, Philby, already waiting at the door for you, or, more accurately, for Eddie. Philby loves Eddie. You let him and Eddie bask in their little reunion as you make your way back to your room. You shut the door and change into some pajamas real quick before summoning the speed of Quicksilver as you quickly gather up all of the clothes on your floor and stuff them in your closet; heaven forbid Eddie sees your underwear. Soon enough, you open the door and poke your head out around the corner, motioning for Eddie to come join you.

Once he’s in your room, you step out, heading to the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed and to give him some privacy as he changes into the pajamas your mom bought him for Christmas last year. Soon enough, he’s joining you in there, brushing his teeth next to you with the spare toothbrush your mom keeps around for him. This never gets any easier for you, being so domestic with him. The two of you have been like this since you first moved into the trailer park when you were seven, but it’s never gotten any easier to pretend like the faces he makes at you in the mirror while you both brush your teeth don’t give you butterflies, like waking up to the sight of him fast asleep next to you doesn’t make your heart melt every single time. You don’t even mind that he always leaves a pool of drool on your pillow, that he’s a blanket hog, that he refuses to sleep with a shirt on because he feels like the neckline chokes him when he lays down, not even that he thinks suffocating you with a dutch oven is the pinnacle of comedy. You’ve got it bad, but you think you hide it well. Truthfully, you don’t, but, luckily for you, Eddie is just as oblivious as you are, if not more so.

Perhaps if the two of you had any mutual friends, they might shake you both by the shoulders and pull you out of your minds, might force you to see how hopelessly in love with each other you are. However, it’s always just been the two of you, at least when you’re at home. In public, the two of you have always operated in your own social circles due to your differing passions; he's always had Hellfire while you've always had the tiny little nonconformist clique you ran around with, a group of somewhat artsy, somewhat smart kids that just didn’t quite fit in anywhere else. So, the two of you simply just continue to dance around one another, each unaware of the other’s incessant pining.

Once the two of you have finished getting ready for bed, you climb into bed together, snuggling up close to each other as you have a million times before. Eventually, you’ll break free from his sleeper hold during the night when you get too hot to continue snuggling, just as you always do, but, for now, you indulge his craving for your warmth. You always indulge Eddie, always spoil him.

“Hey, bug,” Eddie calls out softly into the darkness of your room.

“Yeah, grub?”

“Will ya tell me more ‘bout your wedding?” Eddie asks. It’s the same request he always has on nights like this. He likes to listen to you talk about your dreams and desires as he drifts off to sleep, much like a child likes to hear a bedtime story; he loves to hear the stuff that your beautiful mind comes up with. You’ve always assumed that he was just indulging you, letting you talk about the things you might’ve otherwise been too shy to bring up yourself, in the privacy of your room. Little do you know, Eddie takes great care in remembering what you tell him about stuff like this, he even writes some of it down in the same little journal Wayne gave him to write songs in for his fifteenth birthday. His memory has always been surprisingly good when it comes to stuff like that, stuff that other people might not put a lot of stock in, but that he knows you cherish more than anything. Although, it’s not so good when it comes to important dates or anything like that; anything that the average person would deem important.

“You remember how I said that I wasn’t sure if I wanted a beach wedding anymore?” You prompt him, not expecting him to remember, but more so saying it as a reminder.

“Yeah?”

“I think I’ve moved on from that; trying to walk around in the sand in a wedding gown seems like too much of a hassle for someone as clumsy as me. I think now maybe I’d like to get married at one of those big, fancy gardens that they have in big cities, like the one in Garfield Park. Or maybe it could be kind of cool to get married at one of those old, historic mansions in New England.” You ramble.

“Could get married in the backyard of your nana’s house, she’s got a big enough backyard, ‘s fancy too.” He offers sleepily.

“It’s not that big,” You giggle, “but it would be cute to have a small wedding there. It’d probably have to be a small wedding anyways; I don’t really like a lot of people.”

Eddie huffs a tired laugh, nuzzling his moppy head of curls in between your shoulder and your neck as he curls around you like a monkey clinging to a tree. Little fireworks erupt beneath the surface of your skin and butterflies flutter around your tummy as your body intertwines with his.

Yeah, I’ll never get used to this. You think.

You come from a pretty touchy-feely family, or at least your mom’s side of the family is like that, so you’re pretty used to physical affection, but Eddie’s clinginess has always somehow managed to exceed the level of affection that you’re used to. The two of you don’t hold hands, don’t give each other kisses on the cheek or anything like that, but Eddie will take almost any and every opportunity to hug you, to cuddle with you, to touch you. He’s like that with his other friends too, or so you think. You always see him playfully wrestling with the Hellfire guys or clapping a hand on one of their backs as he pulls them into the occasional celebratory hug, you figure that’s pretty similar to how he treats you. Although, you think that he’s probably a bit more touchy-feely with you because he’s known you for so long. He’d definitely cuddle with Gareth if he’d known him since he was seven, right? Certainly, he’d offer Jeff a shoulder rub every now and then if he had been friends with him for over a decade like he had with you. Of course, he would, Eddie’s just like that, it’s just how he is, you think.

“You’re gonna look real pretty in a white dress, bug. Like a princess.” Eddie murmurs sleepily. At that, heat blossoms in your chest and travels up your neck before flooding into your cheeks.

“What do you think you’ll wear to my wedding? Usually, the maid of honor wears a dress… and is a woman.” You tease and Eddie huffs out another tired laugh, this one nothing more than a puff of air exhaled through his nose.

“I’ll wear whatever you want me to, baby.” Eddie slurs before the stillness of sleep takes over.

Your eyes widen at the new pet name, your breath hitching before a smile breaks out on your face, one so wide that it hurts your cheeks and so fond that it shines in your eyes. You turn to look at him, confirming that he’s asleep, before pressing a kiss to the space between his brows, the only part of his forehead that isn’t currently shielded by his bangs.

“I love you, Eddie.”

#i kind of wanna make a series out of this #eddie munson #best friend au #best friend!eddie #best friend!eddie munson #eddie munson thoughts #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson ficlet #eddie stranger things #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things au #stranger things vol 4 #st4 #jitterbug and grub #pol’s greatest hits

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Eddie’s gonna marry you

Eddie lacks boundaries (18+)

How Eddie & reader got their nicknames

Miscellaneous headcanons

Eddie-isms (18+)

Eddisms

Eddie likes horror movies (18+)

Munson Men headcanons

Toothless & the Troublemaker

My Favorite Person | c. 1975/1976

Jitterbug | c. March 1984

The Dunes | c. July 1984 (18+)

Stuffy Noses and Skimpy Costumes | c. October 1985 (18+)

updated: 19 May 2023

#jitterbug and grub #best friend au #best friend!eddie #best friend!eddie munson #stranger things au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson hc #eddie munson thoughts #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x plus size reader #stranger things hc #stranger things fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things vol 4 #eddie stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things

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I saw someone talk about how Eddie can’t regulate his food intake because of his adhd (something I also struggle with) and I like to imagine that’s where jitterbug!reader got his pet-name from… the man just eats too much grub, it’s a nightly occurrence. I’m personally more of a snack-y eater (i prefer snacks to big meals, so i end up eating a lot of snacks), but I think Eddie would be an absolute whore for a good, big meal. Most people eat popcorn while watching a movie, Eddie has a whole 14” pizza with a side of chips and four bags of famous amos cookies to finish it off. The man will eat himself sick if given the chance. But that’s only for dinner… Eddie really only remembers to eat like one meal a day because of the Ritalin he takes, so he’s gotta make it count (he might have a snack at lunch every now and then, like we see in episode 1, but that’s about it). Also he only has the appetite for dinner/only remembers to eat dinner because he usually smokes beforehand, and boy does that man get some fierce munchies when he’s high.

I personally hc jitterbug!reader as also having adhd because I have adhd and am also ✨selfish✨. Wayne and Eddie gave you the pet-name jitterbug because you’re constantly bouncing at least one leg (sometimes two if you’re extra hyper) and because you generally fidget a lot. Also because you’re generally a nervous person and, therefore, incredibly easy to spook which Eddie loves ‘cause he’s an ornery lil goblin. Eddie also calls you bunny and/or rabbit because he thinks you have the general disposition of a bunny rabbit; hyper, nervous, but so damn adorable.

#please don’t be like eddie #at least eat breakfast AND dinner #you gotta nourish yourself <3 #jitterbug and grub #best friend au #best friend!eddie munson #best friend!eddie #eddie munson thoughts #eddie munson hc #eddie munson x reader

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I’m way too excited about this one excerpt from my upcoming best friend!Eddie fic <3

#WIP #the early days of jitterbug and grub #jitterbug is a lil ditzy sometimes but that’s ok #eddie munson #jitterbug and grub #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson thoughts #stranger things 4 #eddie munson ficlet #eddie munson fluff #eddie stranger things #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader fluff #stranger things vol 4 #best friend au #best friend!eddie munson #best friend!eddie

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I love Jitterbug and Grub the whole series the cute headcanons its too damn cute

aww thank you so much!!! 🥰💕

as a proper thank you for your continued support, here’s a little snippet from my upcoming oneshot for the Jitterbug and Grub series:

You whine, “Grub, I’m not even that high.”

“Of course you’re not, jitterbug,” Eddie replies sarcastically as he stubs out the joint, opting to save the rest of it for tomorrow morning.

“Eds, it’s okay if you don’t want to,” You say as you timidly pick at the threads of your sleeping bag, “kiss me, I mean. It’s okay if you don’t wanna kiss me,” You clarify.

Eddie sighs, knowing you’re not gonna let this go very easily. “How about you ask me again in the morning, okay?” He offers placatingly as he climbs into his sleeping bag.

Eddie doesn’t leave any room for argument as he rolls over to face the opposite direction before shutting off the lantern. You sigh before climbing into your own sleeping bag and getting comfy.

“Goodnight, Eddie. I’m sorry,” You whisper tentatively, worrying that you’ve upset him.

“Goodnight, bunny.”

#ask and i shall reply #jitterbug and grub #wip #best friend au #best friend eddie #best friend eddie munson #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson thoughts #stranger things 4 #stranger things vol 4 #eddie stranger things

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starting a taglist for my jitterbug + grub series, leave a comment if you’d like to be added to it! <3

#jitterbug and grub #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #best friend au #best friend!eddie munson #best friend!eddie #stranger things fluff #stranger things au #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things vol 4 #eddie stranger things

[pollenallergie]

Morning Negotiations

Something short I wrote for Billy Knight because not enough people write for him.

Ps. I’ve really been struggling with writer’s block lately so that’s why I haven’t posted anything in a while. I know that I teased a part of my upcoming jitterbug x grub oneshot, but I’m honestly not sure when I’ll actually have that completely done and ready to post, so I’m sorry about that. Hopefully I can get my inspiration/motivation back soon.

If Billy had to pick his least favourite part about living with you, you guess that he’d probably pick the numerous alarms you use to wake yourself up in the morning, mostly because he expresses his dislike for them very openly.

“Turn it off,” Billy whines hoarsely as he pulls the duvet over his head in a feeble attempt to shield himself from the sounds of the overly peppy song you’d chosen for your alarm tone. It was a song you used to love, back when you’d first chosen it, but now both you and your partner loathe it entirely. This is the sixth time that song has sounded throughout the room this morning and you can tell Billy is beyond sick of it, but neither of you are quite ready to wake up yet.

You groan tiredly as you grab your phone off the nightstand and turn off the alarm before setting it down on your pillow and nuzzling back into your bed, ready to fall back asleep. A very tired Billy suddenly drapes one of his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he rests his forehead against the space between your shoulder blades.

“No, turn ‘em all off,” he grumbles grumpily, “no more.”

You huff out humorously, “Can’t, baby, gotta get up for work.”

“Too early, sun’s not even up yet,” Billy points out before pressing a gentle kiss to your spine.

You yawn tiredly, finally opening your bleary eyes, before replying, “Training starts today, so I’ve gotta be at work an hour earlier.”

You then stretch out your back as best as you can while still trapped against your boyfriend’s front, the movement causing him to sleepily mumble incoherent complaints under his breath.

“Not lettin’ you go,” he pouts as he wraps his arms around you more securely, effectively pinning you to him, “ y’need your rest.”

While you certainly agree with him on that last bit, you also know that you need the money.

“I’ll tell you what, Billygoat, if you let me get up, I’ll grab takeaway from that Indian place on the corner on my way home tonight,” you say, attempting to bribe him.

“Butter chicken?” He asks simply, too tired for full sentences.

“Of course I’ll get butter chicken,” you assure him before offering, “I’ll even order extra naan if you do the dishes while I’m gone.”

“‘S gonna take more than extra naan to get me to do that,” he grumbles.

“Would a back rub sweeten the deal?” You inquire.

“Depends. Does it come with a happy ending?” He asks bluntly, his tone still heavy with sleep, causing you to laugh.

“It can,” you reply between bouts of laughter, causing him to smile and hum happily.

“Then you’ve got yourself a deal, pretty lady,” Billy murmurs as he reluctantly relinquishes his hold on you. You climb out of bed just as reluctantly, still not quite ready to leave your bed, stretching out your tired limbs once you’ve finally gotten up.

“Pleasure doing business with you, handsome man,” you remark before leaning over to plant a gentle kiss on Billy’s forehead, dotting a couple of kisses on his rosy cheeks too for good measure.

#billy knight x reader #billy knight strike #billy knight #billy knight fluff #billy knight blurb #c.b. strike #fuck j.k. rowling tho #billy knight thoughts #billy knight fic