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Angel of the First Degree - Chapter 10: Royalty

Eddie Munson x Chubby!Reader 8055 words Series Masterlist

Warnings: Anxiety; fatphobia including internalised; drug use; bullying; body issues; discussion of body function and fluids; period shame/stigma; disclosure of sexual assault (chapter 2); disordered eating and thoughts of food; shitty/abusive/critical parents; porn magazines; smut; reference to suicide (specifically Virginia Woolf’s); no beta; grief/mourning; warnings updated each chapter

Synopsis: When Eddie Munson finds you in the midst of a panic attack, it is the beginning of something. A fic featuring body and sex positivity, Eddie in a dress, soft small moments, scary big truths, and all the usual special feelings you’d expect from one of my stories.

Chapter Summary: The dream keeps on getting better, but really… how long can this last?

Author’s Note: Sorry that this chapter came a bit late but I promise it's a good one. The next chapter may be delayed too; I have a bit going on IRL. I'm typing out my soft romance as fast as I can though =^.^= I think I missed a lot of typos in editing too, so forgive pls.

With Halloween gone, Hawkins High turned its attention to the next event on the social calendar – the end of year dance. The biggest night of a Senior’s year. The last blowout before exams and graduation. The kind of ceremony that people planned all through high school, hoping for dreams to come true. However, not really the usual talking point of the Hellfire table. For this reason, you were surprised when the conversation turned to the dance.

“We’re going,” Jeff said, speaking for him and Esther. “Might be dumb, but we don’t want to look back and regret not going,”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re really living the all-American high school dream otherwise?” Dustin joked.

“Excuse you, Dustybun, but to deprive the world of me in a flowing powder blue dress and a matching corsage would be criminal,” Esther said, pointing her fork at Dustin menacingly.

“What about you guys? You gonna go since it’s like, your actual final Senior year?” Gareth asked.

Your head had been down the entire conversation, buried in your Classics notes. Although the question had been posed to you both, Eddie didn’t look to you for an answer and you didn’t look up from your notebook.

“You fucking serious? There’s a reason why I’ve never gone to something as mind-numbing as the dance,” Eddie started, voice full of disdain. Everyone at the table felt a Munson rant coming on. “Have you heard the music they play at those things? And the fucking… costumes those conformists wear. No offense, Esther, but everyone looks the same. It’s always blue and pink. King and fucking queen. I would rather have a prostate exam from a bear,”

“Jesus Christ, Eddie,” Jeff said, looking at his girlfriend to see if she was hurt.

Esther was kind of immune to shit like that. She scoffed. “Edward, you honestly couldn’t offend me if you tried. And for real, it kind of just sounds like the excuse of someone that has never been asked to the dance.”

The boys all oooooohhhhh’ed. Eddie grinned at Esther, she smiled back. “I like her. Glad you kept her,” he said to Jeff.

“For fuck’s sake. Nobody keeps me,” Esther proclaimed. “Come on. Let’s go shopping for a costume for you to wear to the conformist parade,” she said to Jeff. Everyone watched them leave.

“I don’t know, man. I just thought you’d wanna go now,” Dustin said, chewing on what he hoped was meatloaf. “Because-”

“I have to go to the library,” you said loudly and suddenly, leaving before anyone, including Eddie, could reply.

It had hurt. A lot. You were heartbroken, bypassing the library and speed walking out the building, across the field, and into the forest you’d hid in at the start of the year.

Back at the Hellfire table, Eddie was unnerved by the sudden silence. “What?” he demanded of his peers. They looked around anxiously, trying to figure out who would tell him. Gareth cleared his throat. “Uh… Dude, I think what… Henderson is sayin’ that, you know, you have a girlfriend… Girls like dances?”

Eddie froze, a million and one thoughts all smashing into each other, nothing coherent. “Yeah, but she’s not… like that,”

“Like what? Just because she’s not a cheerleader anymore, and not all… Plastic or whatever, doesn’t mean that she’s as anti-the man as you,”

“Are you telling me how to be a boyfriend now?” Eddie said, too much venom in his voice, entirely on the defense. He’d messed up. As Gareth rolled his eyes and looked over at Dustin, Eddie narrowed his at the Thinking Cap kid. “Something to add?”

“You dressed as a cat for her, but you won’t take her to the most important part of the Senior year experience?”

“You’re a Freshman, what do you know about the Senior year experience?”

“I know that girls in my classes are already talking about their dance,” Dustin offered in kindness, not trying to make Eddie feel guilty. None of them were, they just loved you and thought it would be your thing.

“Whatever, you don’t know her like I do,”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right, Eddie. We don’t. Sorry.”

Lunch continued, finding its normal rhythm quickly, but Eddie stayed quiet, sorting through his thoughts and trying to work out how he could possibly unfuck what he had royally fucked up.

After school that day, Eddie felt like a weight had been lifted off him when you were waiting at the van like usual.

“Angel,” he greeted, hugging you tightly. “I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t- I should’ve- I-”

“What are you talking about?” you asked straight-faced. You’d practiced the expression all afternoon.

Eddie could see through it, obviously. He could also see that you’d cried off the makeup you had put on that morning. Fresh mascara coated your lashes but the eyeshadow was gone.

“If you want to go to the dance, I do too. You know that I want whatever you want, and-”

“Eddie,” you interrupted again. “I don’t want to go. It’s just before exams. I don’t wanna get all fucked up, then not be able to focus. Or like, drink all my revision out my head, you know? And also, it’s totally going to be the Hayley show. And Chrissy and Jason will be King and Queen. Super predictable. Honestly. I don’t want to go.”

Eddie frowned and tried to figure out what you were thinking. Everything you said was technically true, but he couldn’t find it within himself to believe you entirely. He didn’t have any way to make it up to you though, so he dropped it. Eddie nodded and kissed you gently.

“Do you promise? You’re not just saying that?” he asked. You nodded into him, giving him no verbal confirmation, which he knew meant you weren’t promising at all.

When your general mood that week didn’t change, didn’t dip into sadness and exhaustion, Eddie thought maybe he had overthought it all. Maybe the guys were wrong. Maybe you really didn’t want to go.

He went round in circles trying to figure it out. Eddie’s best theory was that you thought you wanted to go, because you had wanted to once upon a time, but since Eddie and your new life, something had changed. But you didn’t figure it out until Eddie said what he did. In a way, he woke you up to your own truth.

Bullshit, he called on himself.

Another week went by with nobody mentioning the dance. Eddie was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. That, it did. It was a school night, the coldness of winter setting in early. You and Eddie had been cuddled up on the couch when he watched you shiver.

“You want the fuzzy cardigan or Fangoria hoodie?” he asked.

“Hoodie!” you yelled as he went into the bedroom.

Eddie was definitely not the type to go through your things. He’d been so careful about making space for you when you’d moved in. Letting you have what privacy you could, given how small the room and trailer were. However, you were the last to wear the hoodie. He opened the wardrobe but it wasn’t hanging there.

He started to dig through a pile of clothes on the wardrobe floor when the sparkles caught his eye. A voice in his head screamed DANGER DANGER, but he couldn’t help himself. The pile of clothes was hiding a bag from the fanciest store in Starcourt. He knew what it was as soon as he pulled the dress from the bag.

Fuck.

Eddie sat on the bed and held the dress in his hands. It was so glittery, so you. You would look so fucking cute in it. If he were alone in the trailer, Eddie probably would have cried.

You were wondering what was taking him so long when Eddie finally emerged from your room, not with a cardigan or hoodie, but wearing the gown you had planned to wear to the dance. It hung from his shoulders with a grace you’d never have predicted.

“I think this is what I’ll wear. What about you?” Eddie said casually, swirling the hem of the dress left then right then back again.

You didn’t want to have the conversation; once you knew Eddie’s opinion on school dances, that was it. Call it embarrassment or enlightenment or whatever you wanted, you didn’t care anymore. At least, that’s what you’d been telling yourself.

“Angel?” he asked when you didn’t laugh or give him any response at all. He moved to kneel in front of the couch, which you had laid down on, belly to the sofa and arms crossed under your head like a pillow.

You mumbled out a, “Mmm?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think before I said all that shit. I should have known you’d want to go. Should’ve talked to you first,” he told you.

“Should have known because I’m a conformist?”

“No. Hey,” he said, holding your chin and making you look at him. “I want to do whatever you want to do. I thought you knew that,”

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t want to go anymore anyway,”

“You do. You got this,” he argued, motioning to the dress.

“That was before everything happened. I’ve had that forever,” you lied.

Eddie knew you hadn’t moved in with the dress. He knew it was new. But he knew you lied when you felt backed into a corner. “Okay,” he agreed, nodding and feeling like absolute shit. “For the record – you would look beautiful in this. And I do want to take you to the dance, you know, if you change your mind.”

You said nothing, so he got up and returned to the bedroom. As neatly as he’d ever folded anything, he put the dress back where he found it and sat on the edge of the bed for a bit. He was going to take you to the dance. He was going to make it good. He just needed to figure out how to make you believe that’s what he really wanted too.

…

In the depths of November, your mood began to change for the worse. It was a combination of too many things. The fear of the future. Exams. The fact that you saw your mother in town and she turned around to avoid you. The goddamn fucking dance.

It seemed like every conversation you overheard was about tulle and silk, about pastels and limos and afterparties. With only three weeks until the event, all of Hawkins High was in an absolute tizzy about it. Gratefully, the Hellfire table knew better than to bring it up. Although, nothing would deter Esther.

“I don’t believe you, you know,” she said when you were fixing your hair in the school toilet mirrors.

“About what?”

“The dance. You do want to go,”

“Nope,” you replied, popping the P and trying to be as casual as she was.

“And,” she continued. “I think Eddie knows you want to go too,”

“Can you just drop it? It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Esther turned and looked at you. “I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but if I can tell something’s up, you can bet your ass he can. I’m just saying… It’s not too late. You just have to not be so stubborn.”

Stubborn? You didn’t think that’s what you were being. Then again, you weren’t sure what you were being. After a couple days of thought, you realised Esther was right. You were being stubborn despite what you really wanted and entirely in spite of yourself. Ultimately, it was because it was scary to admit that Eddie had done something wrong. That, even by accident, he had hurt you.

Having time and space between the toxic friendships you had in previous years, and the relationship between you and your parents, it was easy to cast them as villains. For all intents and purposes, they were. However, that meant casting Eddie as your hero. Faultless. Invulnerable. Just. If you admitted to yourself that he’d fucked up, even in that small way, it could threaten to tear down the safety you pinned so dangerously to the idea of perfect Eddie. So, you carried on as you had been.

When the countdown hit the two-week mark, Eddie decided to try to get you to talk. He knew you always felt better when you stopped bottling it all up.

You had put yourself to bed early, it was somewhere between 9:00 and 10:00 pm. Wayne was at work, and Eddie was cleaning up after dinner. When he walked into the bedroom, the door ajar, he watched the way your body moved under the blankets. He’d never tell you, because he was sure it was creepy, but he could tell the difference between the way you breathed in your sleep versus awake and just lying in bed.

Eddie pulled his clothes off and got into the bed. As he reached out and ran the knuckle of his index finger down your spine, he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

If you wanted space, you would have not answered. Instead, you shook your head no.

Eddie moved closer to you, wrapped one arm around your waist, and felt a surge of happiness when you took his hand in yours. “Do you want to… kiss about it?” he alternated, pressing a kiss to your neck.

It made you smile, then you felt annoyed he’d pierced your grumpy mood. Then you felt guilty for trying to keep yourself grumpy. What the hell was wrong with you?

“Do you want something from my secret stash of presents for you?”

It was an admission you couldn’t ignore. Turning to lay on your other side, facing Eddie, you made a face at him. “You do have a stash. I knew it,”

“Thought you might have gone looking for it,”

“I don’t go through your stuff,”

“Yeah, but, I don’t know. The curiosity would’ve killed me… Anyway. Something to cheer you up?”

Eddie jumped from the bed when you nodded and started rifling through a drawer. With the bedroom light back on, he handed you a frame about the size of one of your notepads.

“Figured it was the end of the collection,” he explained. Inside the frame was a white piece of paper with the pressed flowers you’d been storing in your History book taped to it. “I saw you take them all out a while back. Thought you might do something with them, but you didn’t,”

“I didn’t know what to do with them. I just put them-”

“Yeah. In The Hobbit. I found the frame when I was going through shit in the hall cupboard.”

You remembered the first time Eddie handed you a little wildflower. It felt like years prior when really it wasn’t all that long ago. Things had moved slowly at first, then quickly by anyone’s standards. Living with Eddie made everything before that seem ancient.

“I love it,” you told him, eyes glassy with happy tears. You could see where Eddie had struggled with the tape, it folding and creasing in places, his fingerprints visible in a few spots. It made it more special.

Eddie watched you put it on the bedside table, leaning against the wall so you could see it from any point in the room.

“I know I can’t make you feel better about everything,” Eddie said then, suddenly serious.

“You shouldn’t have to,” you replied.

“Yeah, but… I just need you to know that when I can, I will,”

“Okay.” You didn’t know exactly what he was talking about, if it was a reference to your parents and taking you in, or the valium slipped before class presentations, or if he was still thinking about the dance. It didn’t really matter. You believed him. “I love you,”

“I love you too, angel. So fucking much.”

The two of you stayed in bed, melted into each other. You touched each other slowly, with more intensity than any of the previous encounters. For hours, you messed around in the dark, practicing ‘everything but,’ until you fell asleep naked, fulfilled, and in love.

…

Two weeks later, there was a car outside the trailer you didn’t recognise. It was the type of car that made it onto the bedroom walls of teenagers, so cool and sleek, a deep red colour. Wayne almost never had visitors and you knew for a fact Eddie didn’t know anyone who could afford a car like that. You were still staring at it as you climbed the steps and entered the trailer.

A started gasp. Your eyes went wide. There were stars made of silver paper hanging from the ceiling; you looked up at how they were stuck there with fishing line and duct tape. Eddie stood next to the kitchen counter, where he had been waiting for you to get home.

He was in a suit. Like, for real. He had black tailored pants and a suit jacket. A white button-up sat underneath, fitted, and tucked. Eddie still looked like himself. His Chuck Taylors ‘for special occasions’ had been selected, rather than dress shoes. His hair was still curly and free and beautiful. Eddie picked up a red pocket square, tucked into his suit’s pocket like Wayne had taught him in preparation for this moment.

He held out a floral corsage.

“Angel, will you go to the dance with me?”

You were nodding before the doubt or the fear or anything bad even had a chance to spark alive at all. When you threw yourself into Eddie’s arms, he spun you around the room.

“Is that what the car’s for?!” you squealed, looking back out the door.

“Of course. Only the best for my baby. You’ve got about an hour to get ready. Go,” he ordered, smacking you on the ass as you squealed again and ran off to do your makeup.

Eddie lit a joint and stood in the doorway of the trailer, proud of himself for fixing the fuck up and genuinely buzzing to spend the night finding all the ways to make you happy.

…

Eddie made you laugh so hard that you got lightheaded. He kept saying stupid shit about the fancy car he’d rented, “She purrs like a kitten,” and honking the horn for no reason. By the time you got to the school, you felt high on love.

While you gathered the skirt of the sparkly pink dress in your hands, Eddie parked and came around to open your door.

“Angel,” he said, offering a hand for you to take.

The school gym had been transformed into an entirely over-the-top and very cliché winter wonderland. Eddie held in the urge to roll his eyes and gag; it was easy once he looked over at you and the ear-to-ear smile on your face.

“We should get photos first, before my makeup wears off,” you suggested.

“Anything you want.”

Although Eddie felt self-conscious in front of the camera, classmates watching from the line, he could feel how excited you were. You stood spooned together and smiled as the photographer tried to make you say ‘cheese.’

“Alright, one for me now,” Eddie said, turning you around and picking you up in a big bear hug. The camera flashed and you laughed.

After photos, you found your way to the table Jeff and Esther were seated at.

“You look so good!” Esther yelled, standing to hug you.

Jeff and Eddie quickly got lost in their own conversation, no doubt judging the sorry excuse for a band playing on stage.

“You can say ‘I told you so.’ You look like you’re gonna burst,” you offered Esther, an olive branch for brushing her off so coldly whenever she had tried to talk to you about the dance.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied. “I will, however, take my payment in the form of a dance?”

The guys watched as you and Esther slow danced together, all giggles and glitter.

“Dude,” Jeff mused.

“I know,”

“This is not how I thought my Senior year would end.”

Eddie snorted. “Which part? The girlfriend? School dance? The miracle that is your predicted exam grades.”

Jeff looked at him. “How’d you know about that?”

“Those girls tell each other everything. Congrats, man. On it all. Couldn’t think of a more deserving man,”

“You getting soft on me, Munson?”

Eddie grinned, and put his arm around Jeff’s shoulders. “I’ve always been soft on you,”

“Fuck off,” Jeff replied with a laugh.

“Love youuuuu,”

“Yeah. Yeah. Love you too. Now gimme back my personal space.”

Eddie held his hands up in surrender, then kicked back in his chair. “They’re happy,” he noted, going back to watching you and Esther.

“Yeah… And, uh, you? You’re happy?” Jeff asked, not sure of the words coming from his mouth.

“Yeah, man. She’s…” My moon. My stars. My sun. My everything. “Cool. I’m happy.”

There was mediocre punch, then there was spiked punch. Swinging across the dancefloor to songs neither of you really liked. There was party food and bored parent chaperones.

When the band stopped playing and Principal Higgins took centre stage, everyone knew what time it was. From your table, you looked around the room. Hayley was clearly pissed that she wouldn't be queen. People might be nice to her face, but most of the cohort feared her. An anonymous voting system ensured she’d never reign. Besides, nobody stood a chance against Chrissy and Jason, already deemed royalty by most people.

“We’re just having some technical issues. Hold on a moment,” Higgins said into the microphone. You and everybody else watched as people ran on and off the stage, whispering.

“I’m gonna get food,” Eddie whispered to you.

“Wait. Something’s wrong?”

“What?” He looked you up and down, and when you turned and saw the concern on his face, you almost laughed.

“Not with me. I think… they’ve lost the crowns?”

Chrissy and Jason were still crowed, albeit without actual crowns. Jason held a plastic scepter, and Chrissy a bouquet of white roses. Some people cheered, but most half-heartedly clapped.

Eddie was entirely uninterested. “I think they’ve got chicken nuggets. I’ll be back.”

The rest of the dance you watched your ex-friends monopolise most of the dance floor and attempt to make everyone else feel like shit. It wouldn’t work on you. Not then. Not that night. Not with Eddie.

Eddie, who kept asking you to dance, pretending to be some nervous kid. “I can’t believe you danced with me,” he said, funny voice. “I’ve like, had a big ol’ crush on you and thought – tonight’s the night. I’m gonna ask her tonight.”

It was stupid but it made you laugh. It made you blush and bury your face in the crook of his neck while he held you close, slow danced with you like he was born for it.

“Babe, you’re the hottest girl in this room. A walking piece of art,”

“Stop,”

“Never,” he replied immediately. “You’re pretty and smart and kind and beautiful and funny and sweet and you always smell good and are just… I fucking love you,”

“I love you too. I love you so much. Thank you. For tonight. And every night. And knowing how to…” You didn’t want to say ‘look after me’ because it made you feel childish and broken, and Eddie was teaching you that you weren’t either of those things. “Knowing what I need, before I do sometimes.”

Eddie smiled softly, let go of your hips, and held your face in his hands. He kissed your forehead, then nose, then checked on you for a second before kissing you, deeply, letting you kiss back and decide when you wanted to part your lips, let him in.

Later, as the gym was beginning to empty and students found afterparties to attend, you were waiting for Eddie to come back from the bathroom. You spotted him as he re-entered the gym, getting stopped by one of the techy Seniors that bought weed off him sometimes.

They whispered, something exchanged hands, and Eddie was back before you knew it. He looked at you, smirked, and you thought he might say something about it. Normally, Eddie would use his weirdly amazing intuition to see straight through you, see your mind filling with doubt.

Did he change his mind about the dance just so he could come and sell?

That was the old you, though, right? The old you would fixate on the thought. Sabotage happiness.

“You ready to go, angel?”

“Yeah. My feet are killing me,” you replied, looking down and twinkling the toes sticking out of the heels you wore. You should have donned matching Chucks.

After bidding Jeff and Esther a good night – they were off to Esther’s parent-free house – Eddie wrapped his jacket around you before disappearing into the cold night to get the car; he wouldn’t let you walk the short distance across the parking lot. You lost track of him in the crowd though, couldn’t see him until the red car came roaring around the corner.

“Angel,” he greeted, leaning across to open the passenger door. As you climbed in, quickly pulling your shoes off, Eddie continued. “So, I have two more surprises for you. First one is in the back seat.”

He was pulling out from the lot, following other car loads of students until they turned down other streets and went loudly into the bitter Hawkins evening.

“Oh my god! EDDIE!” you screamed, getting on your knees and balancing precariously to pick up the crowns. You bounced back into your seat, put your seatbelt on, and looked at the cheap plastic things. “You stole the king and queen crowns?!”

“No. I’m not sneaky enough for that. I paid someone else to steal them,” he clarified. Oh. That’s what that was. “Figured we deserved them more. You deserved it.”

Having a boyfriend who would do something so audacious for you was way better than winning a popularity contest. Being crowned a queen by Eddie was infinitely more rewarding than walking that stage ever could have been.

You put your crown on and Eddie’s too. He wore it well, lighting a cigarette with one hand and holding it out the open window.

“Can you drive faster?”

“Anxious to get home?” he asked with a grin. You nodded. “Well, first thing’s first: we aren’t going home. And secondly: no. I have a long list of things I wanna do to you, my queen, but putting you in the hospital sure as fuck isn’t one of them,”

“We’re not going home?” That’s what you had locked onto. Surely Eddie wasn’t going to gatecrash an afterparty. You didn’t want to be around anyone but him.

“No, we’re not. But don’t worry. You’re gonna like this.”

He was right, because Eddie was always right about you.

“Now, it’s not the penthouse suite at The Ritz, but it is very literally the best money can buy in Hawkins,” he introduced as he pulled up to the one nice hotel in town. It had valet parking, which was a novelty to both you and Eddie.

A man, wearing the hat and everything, collected the bags from the car’s trunk. Eddie had packed them in secret. Inside everything was classy, all gold Art Deco and Gatsby. Eddie checked in, and you listened to the interaction. The person at reception spoke to Eddie as if he was any other hotel guest, respectful and helpful. Part of you was expecting to be kicked out on sight.

“Technically, it’s the honeymoon suite,” Eddie said as soon as the door had been closed behind you both, welcome champagne and strawberries pointed out upon arrival.

“Do they think we just got married?” you asked him, your speech a little slow, distracted and in awe at the size of the room. The bed alone was probably bigger than the whole bedroom you and Eddie shared. The suite itself could rival the trailer.

“Nah. We’re pretty obviously dressed. The crowns and all.”

You gasped, grabbing the plastic on your head. “What if they hear about what happened? What if they tell someone?”

Eddie had dropped the bags on the floor near the built-in wardrobes. “Don’t think people outside of high school give a shit about that kind of thing. Besides, I think discretion is part of their job.” He turned around just in time to watch you launch yourself face-first onto the bed.

“So soft,” mumbled into the fresh, crisp linen.

Eddie laughed, then turned his attention to the radio. Once an acceptable station had been found, he poured two glasses of champagne. “Are the strawberries, like, for the champagne?”

“What do you mean?” you asked from your position on the bed. You’d pushed back the top sheet and quilt and perched yourself against the plush velvet headboard.

Eddie thought you almost looked like a fairy. Pink organza and sparkles sitting in a field of white. A fairy queen.

“Like, does it go on the glass, like a slice of lemon?”

“No. You just eat them with it. Like how cookies and hot cocoa go together.”

Eddie made an oh, okay face, and brought the glasses over, placing the bowl of juicy strawberries on the bedside table. He kicked off his shoes and carefully hung the suit jacket on a coat hanger. When he climbed next to you, you handed him his glass.

“Cheers,”

“Cheers,” he repeated.

A soft clink of crystal and you downed your glass. It took Eddie longer; the bubbles fizzed in the back of his throat and it burned in a different way than cheap beer or whisky.

He let his head roll back and rest on the velvet, eyes following your hands as they picked up a strawberry and brought it to your mouth. As your lips wrapped around it and you bit into the fruit, juice ran down your chin. Eddie shot his hand out and caught it before it could fall to ruin your dress or the linen. He sucked the juice off his hand, happy to taste anything that came from you.

“You don’t like the champagne,” you observed, breaking the moment’s spell.

“Never had it before,”

“I don’t normally like it, but this is good,”

“Guess it’s one of those things that’s only good when it’s good, you know? Like, when it’s quality,”

“Makes sense,” you agreed. “What are you going to drink?”

“Don’t worry about me, angel.” Eddie was on his side, pulling you closer and kissing your neck. “I’ve got a couple tricks up my sleeve,”

“Are you gonna raid the minibar?”

“I’m gonna raid the minibar.” And he was up and kneeling in front of the small fridge, rifling through it.

You got up and poured more champagne, popped another strawberry in your mouth, and watched Eddie move on to searching through all cupboards and drawers in the suite. He took all the teeny tiny shampoo and conditioners, and anything else that wasn’t glued down.

Eddie finished his quiet rampage, turning his attention back to you. He started to blush, and it hurt when he started to justify his actions. “For Wayne. Like, a souvenir. ‘Cause he helped pay for-”

“Eddie,” you interrupted softly. It’s okay. You don’t need to explain yourself. “I love you.”

His posture visibly relaxed. “I love you too,”

“Can you do me a favour then?”

“Anything,”

“See those big fluffy bathrobes?”

Following your request, Eddie got undressed carefully, hanging the rest of his clothes with the jacket. He pulled one of the robes around himself and jumped onto the bed.

“I think Cuddly Eddie is my favourite,” you told him, smiling up at him.

“Come ‘ere and tell me that again,” he replied, holding out grabby hands.

“Let me just cha-”

Eddie hopped from the bed to land in front of you, stopping your path to the other bathrobe and eliciting a small yelp from you.

“Sorry, but, ah, I’m gonna need you to stay in this for just a little bit longer.”

Goosebumps broke out along your arms, and you sucked in your bottom lip. “Okay,” you whispered.

Eddie nodded at the bed, and you climbed back in. He turned the lights off, leaving only moody lamp light to see through. He returned to you, and you both got comfortable laying on your sides facing each other.

“So… did I do good?” Eddie asked, his voice gentle, his hands taking yours so he could cover them in kisses. He looked at you with those big brown eyes.

“Yep, you did the absolute best,” you praised, turning your arm so it would be wrist-up, letting him kiss along your veins.

“Can you… tell me?” There was a rare tone of nervousness in Eddie’s voice. If he was even a little bit nervous, it meant he was vulnerable. It meant he trusted you.

“You want me to tell you that you did good?”

You just wanted to be sure, wanted to give him precisely what he was asking for, and judging by the way his pupils blew out and the barely-there nod, you were. You knew what he wanted.

“You did so well, baby. Everything’s been perfect. You’re perfect,” you started, voice low but not a whisper.

Eddie wriggled closer to you, held you close, rested his head on your chest. You began to play with his hair, aimless and tender.

“And, all the other girls I know had to basically tell their boyfriends or whoever to ask them. But you had a whole plan, because you’re… ridiculous like that. You make everything special. Even the car ride and taking photos and just everything.”

Eddie was glad you couldn’t see his face. His eyes were welling up with tears. He thought hearing the praise would be good foreplay. Instead of the words going straight into his pants, they were settling in his heart.

“And you looked so hot in your suit. Kind of strange to see you all dressed up like that. But I guess you have to get used to it because that’s what you gotta wear to music award shows and stuff, right?”

He chuckled at that.

“Oh! I don’t know if you planned it or not, like maybe you just couldn’t get pink so close to the date, but the red corsage matched-”

“Your ring,” he cut in. He’d wondered if you had noticed.

“You did it on purpose?”

Eddie nodded into you. “Always thought pink and red go good together,”

“They do,” you agreed, holding your hand up and watching the ruby catch the light at different angles. For a second you forgot you were on a mission. “And the crowns! I thought I saw you selling, but you were being a different kind of bad.” Eddie liked how you said bad. “It’s so… you. It’s like, this super romantic thing but it’s a big fuck you to the whole idea of school dances, and you know Jason is probably gonna be bitching about it for the rest of the year. He’ll probably bring it up at the ten-year reunion,”

“We coming back for that?” Eddie asked bravely.

“No. We’ll be too busy,”

“Doing what?”

“I don’t know… Being in love,”

“Sounds good,” Eddie thought out loud. “Sounds really fucking good to me, angel.” Your red-coated nails scratched against his scalp, making Eddie’s whole body tingle.

“Do you want me to keep going?”

“Please,” he whispered on a breath out.

“Then, after all that, you bring me here. This must have cost you so much…”

It didn’t start so emotional; you’d honestly just tried to call him a good boy and get him all worked out, the same way he could do to you. But then you started to think about it, started to ramble, and you were reminded of how goddamn special Eddie was. How the night was perfect, ripped from the pages of your Eddie-coded love stories.

“All the kind and thoughtful and weird things you’ve done for me, not just tonight but all year… It’s like, made up for everything else that’s happened to me, you know?”

There was something in that. Did Eddie treat you like a queen because the world owed you and he was doing his part? Or would he be the same doting boyfriend even if the rest of your life had been peachy? Did one mean more love than the other? A different kind of love?

Eddie’s brain was going around in circles and he decided to shelf the thoughts, and come back to them another time.

Giving yourself a couple beats of breath, you reigned yourself in from the emotional cliff of love, setting yourself back on the path you had intended to take.

“On top of all of that, you make me feel so warm… and tingly… and like, I get this weird heavy drunk feeling sometimes when you do stuff to me.”

Eddie smooshed his face into your chest, dramatically groaning. “Tingly?”

“Tingly,”

“Where?” he asked, untangling himself from you and sitting up against the velvet headboard.

You followed him, obeying his commands as he held his hands out for you to take, and he brought you over him to straddle his lap.

“Um, well, it starts in my nose,” you explained, watching Eddie’s amused expression. “It goes down and I can feel it all across my neck and chest.” You used your hands to show him, open palm mapping out the hot spots. “It’s like butterflies in my tummy.” A year ago, you never would have willingly drawn attention to your stomach, but you hadn’t even given it a second thought. “Down my spine, and it doesn’t matter how much I arch or bend, it’s always just… I don’t know, running up and down.”

Eddie hadn’t blinked, mesmerised by the very cute and very hot show you were putting on.

“Then I feel it in my thighs, but like, just on insides, where I’m soft,”

“So soft,” Eddie involuntarily repeated. His breathing was getting heavier by the second.

“Yeah. And, uh, where it’s most like that, most tingly, is in my underwear, where only you’re allowed to be,”

“Where exactly is that?” Eddie asked, desperate to hear you say any word that could be deemed even half dirty.

None of the words felt right, either too obscene, too clinical, or too childish. But Eddie was hanging on your every goddamn syllable, and you wanted to see what happened when you said something… like that.

Leaning forward, you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought yourself close to him. It would be easier if you didn’t have to watch him watch you. You kissed the side of his face, then behind his ear, letting your hot breath do some of the work for you.

“Eddie-” He shuddered under you. “You make me… You make my pussy tingly, and warm, and I want you so bad,”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” was all you heard before he had you flipped onto your back, legs spread, and underwear coming off. You were giggling when you felt his lips come into contact with you.

“See… Just… like that,” you praised. “Jus’ like…”

Eddie made you cum once, then afraid to ruin your dress, he helped you up and lifted the dress over your head, putting it on a hanger next to his suit. You watched him, heart all aflutter.

“Again,” he ordered, manhandling you back onto the bed.

“‘Kay,” you agreed happily.

The second time, Eddie had lost himself in the taste of you and how your feet curled and the sounds you made. He watched you more carefully, lifting his head from your body to watch you as he slipped a third finger into you. You grabbed the sheets and pulled, whining and panting and then, pressing down onto Eddie’s hand, doing the work for him.

“Ah, fuck, good girl,” he murmured not loud enough for you to hear. Eddie was grinding himself against the bathrobe and bed, the fabric of the robe creating perfect friction. As you got yourself closer and closer to orgasm, fucking yourself on Eddie’s fingers, he quickly caught up.

You were saying his name over and over, voice getting higher and back lifting from the bed. He took over from you, pumping hard and fast, pulling not just the orgasm from you, but a wave of warm, clear liquid that Eddie immediately started to lap up, making you writhe against his mouth as he wrapped his arms around your thighs to stop you from crawling away from him.

Senses coming back, you could hear first. Eddie swapping between your name, angel, various praises about doing such a good job, and something about the word ‘gush’ which would have made you embarrassed under any other circumstance.

Rich strawberries and fresh clean linen. That dominated the scents of the room. Distantly, Eddie’s shampoo and your perfume.

Your vision was a little fuzzy, so you focused on the ceiling until you had enough energy to sit up on your elbows and look down at Eddie, who had rested his head on one of your thighs, closed his eyes, and wore the sweetest smile. It was completely at odds with what he was doing only seconds before.

Everything felt soft, lavish under your fingertips. And, your mouth tasted of nothing, instead your tongue pressed against your teeth, begging you to find Eddie’s lips and kiss.

“Eddie,”

“Mmm,”

“Come,”

“Already did.”

It was stupid but it made you laugh. “Okay, good, but come here, to me, please.”

Eddie stood, taking off the robe he’d made a mess of, then came to where your arms were held out in wait. He pulled the covers down and brought them back over both of you, finally cuddling up with you. He kissed the top of your head, more content than he’d been in… He couldn’t remember.

“I want to have sex,” your small but sure voice came from under the covers.

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh at the finality of your statement. All business.

“Why are you laughing at me?” you squeaked, looking up at him with the cutest angry face.

Eddie leaned down and kissed you. “Mm’not laughing at you. Promise. You just sounded… I don’t know. I’m not laughing. I swear.” Pulling another cute, angry, and suspicious expression, Eddie kissed you again. “We-we can, yeah, do… that,”

“Only if you want,” you said then, a little thrown by his reaction.

“I want!” he almost yelled. “Sorry. Fuck. Sorry.” He lowered his voice. “I want. And I like… No, wait, I’m proud of you… you know, for asking… None of that came out right,”

“It’s okay. I know what you mean.”

Eddie meant ‘for you to get to the point where you can verbalise what you want is so fucking massive, and I am infinitely in awe of your progress and entirely in love with you’ and you knew that.

“Um, I might have, planned… for this… just in case, you know?” he told you, trying very hard not to sound like he did all of it to earn sex, like you’d ever think that.

“Yeah?”

Eddie paused to look at your face. You were glowing, happy, excited. Eddie nodded, “Yeah.” He retrieved a packet of condoms and bottle of lube.

You’d never really seen either, so were curious, took them both from him and read the packaging. “Strawberry flavour? To match the champagne?” you joked.

“No. Not even I’m that cheesy. It’s all they had. Hawkins, you know?”

“What could you get out of Hawkins?” you wondered out loud.

“Any other flavour. No flavour. Glow in the dark. Some that feel real cold. Some that feel hot. Sky’s the fucking limit,” Eddie answered, no comedy all education.

“Oh… Where… from?”

You’d trapped him. Eddie grinned and scrunched his nose up at you. “There’s, ah, a sex store… in Lafyette,”

“Can you take me?”

Eddie’s eyebrows rose and his grin got wider. “Yeah? Absolutely… Jesus, you’re killing me in all sorts of ways tonight, angel.” Eddie pounced, tickling you and making you kick the air and squeal. When tears were running down your cheeks, he stopped to watch you catch your breath. “You good?” he asked, brushing hair from your face.

“I’m good,” you whispered back, looking at him like he was your whole entire world.

“Good. Come ‘ere.”

Eddie devoted a lot of time to making sure you were ready; mind, body, and soul. He wanted jelly legs and dripping wetness. Heart beating fast. Clammy hands. He wanted you begging, which you did. You whined his name, pushed at his face with your nose.

“I got you,” he said, getting himself between your legs. Everything about your body was screaming please and ready. You were so warm and open, and his mind was going to short circuit if he didn’t pull himself together.

You wriggled under him, getting comfy, then wrapped your legs around his waist. Eddie hissed at the feeling, making you smile.

“Here, put this under your butt.” Eddie placed a pillow there, and two under your head. He was fussing over you, then the condom, and it was adorable.

“Eddie, hey, hey,” you almost clicked at him like a puppy. “I’m good.”

He nodded, suddenly nervous. You, on the other hand, were somehow the opposite. No nerves. No anxiety. You just really, really wanted to feel him.

The kissing started off slow, then needy and messy. You felt caged in by his arms, pressed into the mattress by his hips; you loved it. Safe in a bubble.

“Ready?”

“Uh-huh, yes,”

“‘Kay, just, ah, tell me… if… anything,”

“I know. I will.”

Eddie nuzzled into your neck, kissed your skin lazily. He was painfully hard and just a little terrified that he’d cum within seconds. You felt him glide himself over your clit, and down, lining the tip up. Eddie looked at you as he slowly pushed in.

Your eyes were closed and your mouth opened, a happy gasp escaping. He couldn’t read what it meant when your eyebrows pulled together, but he knew the look of pleasure on your face. Eddie stopped himself from asking you if you were okay; he didn’t want to ruin the moment for you.

The arch in your back. How hard your fingers were gripping his arms. The smile forming on your face.

Then, he had bottomed out, whimpered, and the sound cut through you. You needed him to do it again, so you bucked your hips. It worked, a string of chaotic noises coming from him.

“Are you gonna move?” you whispered.

“Um… No… I’m gonna fuckin’ cum,” he admitted, a bark of laughter ending his sentence.

“It’s okay if you do. Honest. This feels really good,”

“Doesn’t hurt?” he asked. You shook your head. “At all?”

“No. I read in a magazine that it’s a myth that it’s normal to hurt. Like, it can. But not like how people always say,”

“Oh… okay,” was all he could say. How the fuck were you forming full sentences? “Jus’ tell me… if, ah, faster… or whatever.”

You nodded at him, let go of his arms to reach up and fold his hair behind his ears. When you ran your hand along his face, he rubbed his cheek in your palm.

“Kiss,” you ordered.

Obeying, Eddie shifted his weight onto his elbows, let his hands find your hair, then kissed you. Slowly, he started to move, careful, deep movements. He was able to find a rhythm that made you bite back a stupid grin.

“Faster,” you asked, breathy.

“If I do… I won’t… last,”

“S’okay. Please.”

Faster felt deeply right. Like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Your mind went blank, and you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled Eddie down against you hard. He was panting, swearing, and just over a minute later, he came harder than he ever had before.

Almost all of Eddie’s weight was on you, but it was comfortable. Before he could speak or check on you, or even pull out, you’d sighed happily and then, much to Eddie’s amazement, passed out.

When he got up, respectfully cleaned you best he could, and tucked you in, Eddie kissed your forehead and whispered, “I love you, lightweight.”

Next Chapter: 11- Afterglow

Fic Taglist: @ajeff855 @b-barnes04 @eddie-munson-is-a-sweetheart @nerd-squad-headquarters @word-wytch@harrys-tittie @munsonsmel0dy @sidthedollface2 @eddiethesexy @bardicfrustration @orpheusredux @munsonsgirl71 @a-time-for-wolvess @rosaline-black @thegirlwhohides @emotionaldreamer @e0509 A@briasnow-blog @kiyastrf94 @erinsingalong @rainylana

Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @munsonlives @sweetpeapod @depressooo---expressooo @thorfemmes @hawkins-high @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @mymoonisalways-in-scorpio @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair

#Mine #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson/You #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson x Chubby!Reader #Chubby!Reader #Stranger Things #Eddie Munson Fanfic

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