aylasrants

[aylasrants]

currently in my bed dying of loneliness, hbu?

Eddie is the opposite of a nonchalant boyfriend

Masterlist

Context: Nonchalant boyfriend was an internet phenomenon where girls were talking about their, you guessed it, nonchalant boyfriends avoidant attachment style lowkey saying things like, "when he's nonchalant and u never know if he actually likes you or if he doesn't even care abt ur existence" and, "pov: dating a nonchalant guy who never compliments you when you're a words of affirmation girl"

Asks are open, please for the love of god talk to me about Eddie.

Warnings: mentions of a period, a pinch of spiciness, that's it.

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Have this thought that turned long while I continue writing my magnum opus, it is an Eddie x Popular!Reader enemies to situationship to lovers based on the song imgonnagetyouback by Taylor Swift. It's currently at 14k words and I haven't even hit the real drama yet lmao. If anybody applies the slightest bit of pressure on me I will fold like a wet noodle and give you guys an excerpt. I've been planning it out and drafting it this whole week so it should be a well-structured story unlike my other long one.

Eddie declares war on all nonchalant boyfriends. 

He’s never been nonchalant about anything in his entire life, and he’s not gonna start now, not with you. 

No longer will you wonder if your boyfriend thinks you look pretty or if he thought about you that day. 

With Eddie, he thinks about so many things during the day, you included, that he has to write the ones about you down so he can tell you later when you both get home from work. 

He runs down the paper like it’s his grocery list, “Okay, first of all Joe was playing the radio in the shop today and Queen came on and it made me think of you.” 

Your heart flutters at the sentiment, “Aw, what song was it?” You’re curious to know what it was so you can go listen to it, even though you’ve more than likely heard it a million times. You just want to listen to it from his perspective, imagining what lines made him think of you. 

You giddily wonder if it was Killer Queen, you do have an insatiable appetite for him. Or maybe it was Somebody To Love, you swoon at the thought of Eddie hearing the choir-like chanting, ‘Find me somebody to love,’ knowing he’s coming home to you. His somebody. 

Your rose-colored thoughts are dashed when he quips his answer. 

“Fat Bottomed Girls,” he’s got a proud grin stretched across his face before he looks at his lengthy list once more, quickly moving on. 

Your eyes deaden, lips pressed into a thin line, “Okay.” A tone of defeat saturating the word, you should’ve known better. That’s about right for Eddie, your perpetually horny boyfriend. 

He continues as if he’s presenting on a time limit, too much to say, please hold all questions ‘til the end. 

“Okay, up next, I stopped at Bradley’s Big Buy on the way home and bought you a new bag of tootsie rolls.” He reaches into the paper bag on the chair beside him and plops the huge bag of the sugary treat on the counter. “I checked the pantry this morning and saw we’re running low. Plus, your period is supposed to come this week and I can’t be without my greatest allies.” He finishes by patting the crinkling bag. 

You furrow your brow, jerk your head back, eyes flutter-blinking in a questioning manner, how did he know you’re supposed to get your period this week?

“Oh don’t look at me like that,” he waves off your confusion as if it’s preposterous, “I keep up with my girl, and my girl’s girl.” He gestures vaguely to your lower half, it makes you snort. 

“Did you just refer to my vagina as sentient?” Your eyebrows are furrowed, eyes alight with mirth. 

He shrugs, “You know me.” He’s so blasé with it, as if those three words explain everything. 

What you don’t know is he keeps a little pocket calendar that he uses to mark your menstrual cycle. He wants to know when his girl isn’t feeling very good, but he also wants to know when his girl is feeling extra good. 

“Moving forward,” he shouts with a finger up in the air, turning his nose up as if frustrated by your incessant interruptions. Such a drama queen, you think. 

“Gareth asked me if we want to go on a double date with him and Jenna this Friday, I told him I’d ask the old Ball & Chain.” He’s grinning when he says it, preparing for your inevitable smack. 

And you do smack him, right on his shoulder. “Hey! I’m not a Ball & Chain until you lock it down,” is your only response, you can’t help but smile at the glee in his eyes when you mention being his forever. 

“You’re so right, my dearest, how very silly of me.” He says it in a stilted overly-formal voice like he’s a 1940s business man puffing on a cigar. “But mark my words, you will be my Ball & Chain,” he says in a playful threat, “When you least expect it, that’s when I’ll strike.”

You shake your head, smiling at his stupidity. He’s smug at the fact that you don’t know he’s been wearing the engagement ring he bought you around his neck, beneath his clothes, for the past four months just waiting for the perfect moment.

“Yes, let’s do dinner, what’s next,” you question, craning your neck forward to get a glimpse at his chicken scratch writing. 

He jerks the paper away from your view, it’s then that you realize he’s written all of this on the back of a purchasing request from the shop. You see the logo for ‘Joe’s Cars’ at the top of the page, god, you hope they didn’t need this document for their files. 

He holds the paper to his chest, reprimanding you like you’re a nosy kid, “No peeking!” 

You laugh as you settle back into your stance in front of him, waiting for what he has to say next. 

“On my way home I saw a banner on the mall advertising a sale at the Gap and I figured we could go get you that dress you saw in the catalog the other day. Maybe you can wear that to dinner with Gareth and Jenna,” he suggests. 

It’s so straightforward the way he says it. He’s waiting for your response, but you’re nearly choking back tears at the way he loves you. The way he sees you.

You had shown him the dress last week while he was building you a shelf for your joint bedroom. The shelf would be a place for you to put your romance novels, a lot of Jilly Cooper and Jackie Collins, something your ex would’ve never done. He always made you feel bad for reading those types of books, but not Eddie. Eddie built you a place to display them proudly in your room, no longer having to dig under the bed to reread them. 

When you showed him the dress, you didn’t think he actually remembered the interaction. He gave you his attention when you talked about how pretty it was and how much you liked the pleated skirt, but you just thought it went in one ear and out the other. You thought that he was probably nodding, ‘oo’-ing and ‘ah’-ing until you’d go away, leaving him to work. 

But here he was a week later, having remembered the exact dress and the exact store, offering to buy it for a silly little dinner. 

You smile at him with watery eyes, nodding, “Yeah, I’d like that very much,” you move to kiss him, but he holds up his hand to stop you. A pinch of worry squeezes your heart before he says, “Hold on I’m not done yet!” 

His hand still held in the air, he dutifully looks at his list as if he’s reading something lengthy, preparing to recite the next thought he had at work that he needed to share with you. 

He takes a big breath in before turning to you to share the last thing, “And- I love you.” He says it with the sweetest smile on his face, just happy to talk to you, happy to come home to you. 

It takes you a minute to grasp what he said. That was it. That was the last thing he thought at work that he needed to tell you. Wrote it down and everything. 

He stopped your incoming kiss and affection to tell you that, he gave you pause thinking you rudely cut him off again. But he just wanted to tell you he thought about how he loves you while at work.

He’s so stupid, you think fondly. He’s your stupid, silly, dramatic, lover boy. 

Your close-mouthed smile is so big it makes your eyes squint shut, nose scrunching as you shake your head at his antics. A huffing laugh leaves your nose as you reach for him, his arm pulls you in for the sweetest kiss, the one you get to have every day with him. 

“I love you too, stupid face.” 

You love your non-nonchalant boyfriend. 

Bonus: 

On Friday, you’re getting ready for the double-date in the bathroom, touching up your makeup in preparation to show Eddie. 

“Teddie!” You call out the fond nickname, he loves when you call him that, it liquifies his insides. You always make him melt. 

You can hear his soft thudding steps into the bedroom, a slight squeak of the bed as he sits down. 

“You ready to see?” Your voice echoes from behind the door, he can hear the smile in your voice and it makes him smile. 

“So ready,” he grins, “Gimme my prize, baby. Show me what’s behind door number one!” His imitation of a game show host is weirdly good, he blames it on Wayne’s addiction to old reruns of Let’s Make A Deal.

You open the door, stepping out, nervously brushing the nonexistent wrinkles out of the skirt with your hands. You look up at his face, asking a hesitant, “How do I look?”

He’s frozen in his spot, his eyes are wide as they take in the angel in front of him. He finds you sexy any way you come, but he does love when a gift is covered in pretty wrapping. 

Your confidence grows at his speechlessness, you know him well enough to know it's good speechless. 

He stands up abruptly, “Excuse me- I gotta-hold on-,” and he’s out the front door. You have no idea where he’s going, but knowing him, this is for dramatic effect. So you sit down on the bed and wait, crossing one healed leg over the other, leaning back on your arms, bobbing your foot idly. 

When he comes back in thirty seconds later his black suit is disheveled, his hair no longer neat in a ponytail. The shorter curls are windswept as they frame his face, he’s unbuttoned his dress shirt to his sternum, he’s breathing hard and ragged. You stand at his entrance, hands on your hips, an amused glint in your eyes. 

His cheeks are pink with exertion and sweat beads at his hairline, “Sorry, you’re so hot I literally had to take a lap, I’m back now, we’re good to go. You look amazing, by the way.” He leans in to hold you in a kiss, but you put your hands up to stop his body from touching yours. 

You're giggling at his antics, ‘Ew, you’re all sweaty now,” you whine. 

He grins mischievously, “Oh good, then it won’t matter if I get even more sweaty.” Next thing you know he’s clumsily grabbing the sides of your head, pulling you in for a comically sloppy kiss, and pressing his body to yours desperately. You can feel his leg hitch onto your body like he’s about to climb you like a damn tree. 

You break the silly kiss with a loud laugh, tossing your head back, “Eddieeeeuhhh!” 

A/N: please like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed it. Comments encourage me to write more, they're like a shot of espresso to my heart.

[aylasrants]

he’s such an idiot, i love him

Malapropism

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie and his inability to get his words right. Or, three times Eddie was way off.

WC: 3.3k

Warnings: lots of flirting, use of the word ‘cummies’, mentions of blowjobs, mentions of sex, Steve, idiots in love, Buffy the Vampire Slayer references because I can’t help myself, mentions of homosexuality, mentions of oral sex (fem receiving), Eddie thinks girls kissing is hot because he's a 20-year-old boy, reader dreams about Eddie because she's down bad, but he's also down atrociously, Eddie banter 10/10 here.

A/N: Asks are open, pls come talk to me about Eddie!!!

Masterlist

Eddie is not the brightest bulb in the bunch, he smoked a lot of his best brain cells away. Only left with an encyclopedic knowledge of nudie magazines, Dungeons & Dragons, and metal music, the rest of his mind is cobwebs, empty filing drawers that never seem to fill, and one stray marble rolling around for when he gets bored during Mrs. O'Donnell's lectures.

He has this awful knack for forgetting words, misfiling definitions in his mind, and reading a little too fast which only leads to confusion. Like the time you were filling out your worksheet for Career Day.

Career Day was this stupid shindig the high school put on where all the seniors would fill out arbitrary information on a sheet, turn it in, and the school would come back with your future career. Then everybody would go off into groups with real people in those careers and shadow them for a day.

All of it was like a really shitty crystal ball, except this was more inaccurate than a crystal ball. This was Hawkins High, famously known for pumping out Einsteins and Steve Jobs', telling 18-year-olds what they'd be good for. That would be like listening to your hammered uncle at Thanksgiving say, "I'm gonna go for a drive," and going, "You know what? That sounds like a real good idea, let me come with you! I'll make sure not to put on my seatbelt and everything!"

So, no, Eddie is not filling out a sheet. He figures there's nothing Hawkins High could come back with that would be anything other than Gas Station Attendant or Garbage Man. He'll save himself the public embarrassment, thank you very much.

Plus, he’s enjoying watching you try to fill out the sheet, grumbling and dramatically sighing every thirty seconds like you have a list of better things to be doing running through your head. You’re sitting in the cafeteria hunched over the paper while he leans on the arm you’re not writing with, his head laid on your shoulder watching you scribble answers. This is his happy place, not school- hell no, no, it’s you. Getting to watch you do mundane things while also being in your personal space, that’s heaven right there.

Finishing up, you answered all the stupid questions, not enjoying this inane ritual very much either. You even answered the one asking if you like bushes, to which you defaulted to Eddie for clarity.

"What in the world could they gain from my answer to this?" You frustratedly ask, this was getting ridiculous. He straightens up as you turn on him to point to the question. 

"Well, either you're religious or you're free spirited," he shrugged, shoveling more of your pretzels into his mouth. Thief. He’s like a little raccoon, always hungry and digging for food in other people’s stuff. You never tell him, but you pack double of everything for lunch, knowing he’ll be eating yours. He likes to leave at least a little left so as to act like he didn’t just bogart your snacks, ah yes, because three pretzels and some crumbs are just enough for you. If he knew you packed double of everything he’d be getting into your backups in no time, so that will remain a mystery, you’ll continue to eat lunch in study hall. 

Scoffing and checking the ‘no’ box, no 'I don't know, freaks' option available. 

"And by free spirited, I mean 70s bush type of free spirited," he grinned, proud of his ability to get a vagina reference in conversation. Ever a teenage boy at twenty.

"Yes Eddie, I know, I got that," you sighed, exhausted by his presence already. You're choosing not to give him much more attention than that, still looking over your paperwork. Being his only girl friend was hard work, on good days, you would call it a labor of love, on bad days…the meter would lean more towards “I’m going to smack the shit out of this stupid idiot boy.’ 

"Vagina…vagina bush," he's having the time of his life antagonizing you while you pretend to focus, he considers the day a win if he A) mentions a vagina at least once, B) annoys you, or C) all of the above. And he's going for gold today, he'll take Vagina's for 500, please.

"Wow Eddie, you've really mastered the single-entendre there."

-

When you get your results back, he peeks over your shoulder after the many, 'What'd you get?''s go unanswered. In bold letters at the top of the page it reads 'THE RAPIST.' The printer must've jammed midway through inking the word, you got the gist, though. Eddie, on the other hand, did not. 

He rips the paper from your hands looking at it hurriedly, "What the fuck?! You should've said ‘yes’ to the bush question! Oh my god!" He's yelling in your face, utter shock and horror in your honor.

"Wha-? Eddie!" You rip the paper back from his large hands, knowing exactly how he read it, opting to point to the misread word like a school teacher reading a picture book to second graders, "No Dingbat! It says 'THERAPIST.' The printer must've fucked up or something."

"Oh thank god! I was not going to let you shadow whoever that was! What kind of psycho shit..." His voice is a mumble under his breath by the end of the sentence, shaking his head, scolding the school for the mistake.

-

You know he has trouble with words sometimes, not a walking dictionary, that one. Because of this, you’ll purposefully use big words to hide what you’re talking about. You don’t mean to exclude him, it’s only for things you don’t want him to get going on. For instance, X-rated commentary must be spoken in purely anatomical terms. 

You’re talking with Robin while she enters returned VHS’s back into the system at Family Video after school. Eddie is there just wandering around, pulling out tape after tape, reading the backs while walking, and leaving them on the nearest shelf when he’s done. Steve’s following behind him, like the exasperated mom of a two year old who needs to touch everything, putting each of them back in their rightful place. Blissfully unaware of his entourage, Eddie works his way through the horror section, moving on to the science-fiction movies. 

Eventually, Steve gives up and joins you at the customer side of the counter. “Why do you bring him here? He’s like the Tasmanian Devil, whirling his way through and leaving the place a mess.” He’s beyond frustrated at this point, his tone conveying just how over it he is, and by it, that would be Eddie. 

You smile, seeing the beginnings of sweat on his voluminous hairline, “Well, I know you could use the workout, gotta keep the ladies knocking down your door,” you tease. 

Robin snorts, “Yeah, as if. I get more women than him!” 

“Well it certainly doesn’t help that you take them all!” Steve’s like a petulant child in his response. 

Cutting off their argument, getting back to the original question, “Plus, he needs enrichment, so I like to let him loose here. It’s a nice enclosed space, people he knows, it’s the closest thing to an Eddie Park we have.” You shrug, smugly smiling at Steve’s disapproving glare. 

You want to get back to your conversation with Robin so you do your best to shoo him away in the only way you know how, “Oh my god, did Eddie just pull the film tape out of Fast Times at Ridgemont High?” You put on a worried voice, looking over Steve’s shoulder. 

Steve, of course, whips around muttering a stern, “Oh no you don’t, Munson.” He’s off to go stop Eddie, who is still looking at the back of The Outsiders tape, completely unaware that you just used him as a distraction. 

Robin chuckles, the fake distraction clear to her, but Steve is too busy thinking about the possibility of not having easy access to Phoebe Cates’ pool scene ever again. 

“Anyway, as I was saying,” you pause to locate Eddie, making sure he’s not near you, “Heather wasn’t in fifth period because apparently she got detention for getting caught under the bleachers…,” lowering your voice conspicuously, “performing fellatio on her boyfriend, Chris.” 

Before you have a chance to gauge Robin’s shocked reaction at the obvious high school faux pas, Eddie’s voice over your shoulder makes you jump nearly out of your skin. 

“Romeo’s best friend?” He asks, extremely confused, not knowing Hawkins was doing Romeo & Juliet this year for the school play. He thought it was Oklahoma, the only reason he knows any of that is because he’s forced to share the drama room after school with the theater club during rehearsal season. A bunch of theater kids playing Zip, Zap, Zop for an hour straight really grates on one’s nerves, especially when he’s trying to transport his Sheepies to Middle Earth. 

“Jesus Christ! We need to put a bell on you!” He was literally across the store not two seconds before you said it, how the hell did he sneak his way over to stand directly over your shoulder, far too close for comfort, especially given the subject matter you’re talking about.

“Ooo,” he coos, shimmying suggestively, “I could be into that, would you put your name on the collar?” He grins, biting his bottom lip, leaning into your personal space even more than he already was. He looks like a smug bastard, but he also looks like he’s one more flirtation away from eating you out up. His leering eyes raking up and down your body, playing up his joke, but it certainly doesn’t feel like a joke when he looks like that. You’re leaning back, matching the amount he leans forward, forcing a look of repulsion on your face. 

Before you can reprimand him for his dirty mind, Robin cuts in, reminding you of his original comment. 

“Also, no, that’s Mercutio.” 

“Woah, gesundheit, Buckley.” He chuckles like she just said the most ludicrous thing he’s heard all day.  At the same time, he straightens up, giving you a reprieve from his familiar scent- Marlboros and Old Spice to try to cover up the Marlboros. It’s the same scent you smell in your dreams, the one that makes you wake up missing him, more than a friend should miss another friend. You love Robin deeply, but you can’t say her scent has made its way into your dreams, let alone her being a star in them herself. Meanwhile, Eddie is at the top of the call sheet in your dreams.

“Wha-no?” It comes out more as a question, the real question being how the hell did he get from point A, fellatio, to point B, Mercutio? “That’s Romeo’s best friend-,” You try to correct him, but you’re quickly cut off.

“Who is?” He’s completely oblivious. 

“Mercutio!” Okay, you’re starting to get frustrated here. 

“I thought you said that was Fellatio,” his brows are drawn into a frown, trying to make sense of the mess that is this conversation. 

“No, that’s a blowjob,” Robin throws the towel in, giving up on trying to hide the original conversation that started this mess in search of clarity. 

“You rang?” Steve pops up beside you and Eddie so quickly he probably left a cartoonish cloud of dust when he Road Runner’d over to you, he’s looking incredibly interested in this conversation. 

Eddie turns to Steve like he was just offered a beer, “I wouldn’t say no to one…” Steve nods in agreement before they both look at you.

“Oh, I give up!” You throw your arms up in exasperation before you’re dropping your head harshly onto the counter. Robin rubbing your head in sympathy. 

“So no head?” Eddie asks, so genuinely that if you weren’t so frustrated, you would find it endearing despite the subject matter.

All you can muster is a glare and ignore the beating of your heart in your ears. 

-

Despite Eddie’s lack of firing neurons, he still loves to accompany you to study sessions with Robin. Steve shows up too, but that’s just because he has no other friends. Unless, of course, you count a bunch of 14-year-olds, of which he does not. See, friends aren’t as mean as those 14-year-olds, hell, they’ve got him hiding under the counter every time they bust into Family Video, Robin having to cover for him, “Sorry, he just left.” 

You’re currently cramming for an AP World History exam, Robin is holding up the flashcards you made to quiz yourself. Eddie takes a break from planning for the next leg of his D&D campaign to look at what you’re up to. He’s sitting beside you on a couch at the Hawkins library, a place he’s never set foot in before you. But you’re like a bonded pair of cats, not to be separated under any circumstances. So he gave his best innocent smile to Ms. Marissa, the librarian, when she recognized the town hooligan upon his entrance with you into her fine establishment. Her library had been safe from his loud rants and pranks thus far, so she’s wary of his newfound presence in the small building. 

You were signing in at the front desk as they shared an exchange, Eddie stood right next to you, his leather clad arm brushed against your body. You could still feel the warmth it brought even now. 

“Mr. Munson.” She curtly greeted, letting him know she knew exactly who he was, lest he try any funny business during his stay.

With a shit-eating grin, he leaned forward to rest both arms in front of him, his hands clasped together, and said, “Oh please, call me Eddie. Mr. Munson was my mother.” 

Ms. Marissa frowned in confusion and you were pulling him away to where Robin and Steve had set up camp.

“Behave,” you implored. 

“Yes ma’am,” He answered with a salute. 

That was two hours ago, two hours too long according to Eddie. He sees that you’re still working with the flashcards and sighs dramatically, choosing to play-faint onto you, practically crushing you with his body weight. 

“Eddie! Stop, I’m trying to study!” You whine, your ribs practically closing in on you as he lays on your balled up body. 

Robin puts the flashcards down to take a break, she knows this is gonna take a minute to resolve. She leans over to see Steve in the book stacks flirting with a girl, she shakes her head. ‘He would flirt with a man in a wig if the guy had pretty enough eyelashes,’ she thinks. 

“Need…attention…” Eddie croaks out like he’s parched for your attention, alone in the hot desert of your disinterest. 

You maneuver your elbow out from under the pressure of his body just enough to shove it back into him to try to get him off, the shove itself won’t do the job, but maybe if you aim it right your elbow will dig into his ribs and cause him to yelp off of you. It doesn’t work, but luckily he gets off of you on his own accord. 

“I have a quiz question for you,” he says with enthusiasm, ready to challenge you, “who in history said, ‘Give me attention or give me death!’?” He says it like he’s reenacting it, an orator speaking to a bustling, interested crowd, not just Robin with an eyebrow quirked, and a frustrated you. 

“That’s not the quote.” It comes out in a monotonous admonishment, looking at him with your head tilted, you’re a teacher waiting for the problem-student to be quiet so you can move forward with the class. 

“Oh, no you’re right, that’s my bad. Who said, ‘Give me cummies or give me death!’?” He tries to give the same reenacted energy as he did the first time, but he struggles to keep a serious face, too busy breaking out into a laughing grin. 

Steve is sitting down on the couch opposite you, next to Robin, phone number on a scrap of paper that was clearly torn from a spiral notebook. He looks amused at what he just walked in on.

“EW! Eddie, don't be gross!” You smack him on the shoulder, to which he flinches, hand rubbing where you hit him as if it actually hurt. 

“Ow! Jeez, okay, sorry. But to answer my own question, it was me, I said that.” He’s grinning again, proud, not exactly a vagina joke, but he got to say the word ‘cummies’ which he knows you despise, so he’s happy. Plus, he gets a fun little tingle every time he says something you deem naughty and he gets to watch the realization of what he’s said wash over you. He’d watch you forever like that, it’s his favorite show. His sweet best friend bristling at the word ‘cummies’, it’s as close to sex with you he’ll ever get. At least that’s what he thinks. 

“It’s true, he did say that. I was there. Fantastic public speaker by the way,” Steve says it with such confidence that if it wasn’t such an outlandish statement, you would believe him. It’s like he’s trying to recommend you go to one of the fake events Eddie seems to speak at. 

“Okay! Back to work!” Robin’s clapping her hands before you get the chance to go off on both of them for being such boys, you’re making no effort to hide the disgust on your face. 

‘Cummies’ is a horrendous word, but Eddie’s comment does put two things in your head, the root word ‘cum’ and his shit-eating grin. A lethal combo that makes you feel like the room is a thousand degrees. AP World History, Ap World History, AP World History.

Robin held up her notes, trying to think of things to quiz you on, “Okay, how about this, what version of humans came after homo-neanderthalensis?” 

“Easy, homo-sapiens,” You’re proud of how quickly you got that until Eddie cuts in.

“That’s like Robin, right?” He’s genuine in his question, just wanting to be included in the conversation at this point. 

You’re confused by what he means, “Y-yeah, I guess, I mean- that’s like all of us.” You’re looking at him with a question in your eyes.

“Uhh, I don’t know about all of us, maybe Steve, for sure,” he leans close to you, one hand coming up to cover his mouth from Steve and Robin’s confused gaze as he speaks through only one side of his mouth, “can you say compensating much?”

You pull your head back from his stage whisper looking at him with the most confusion you might have ever displayed in his presence.

“What?”

“I mean- it’s cool if you are. I mean- that’s honestly kind of hot, actually. You still like guys too, though, right?” He goes from smooth criminal, imagining you and Debbie Harry making out, to suddenly nervous that he actually has no shot with you. 

“Okay, requesting clarification for all who are me,” you quip, you’re beyond lost at this point, he might as well be talking to a wall. The conversation would look the same, too.

“You know what, it’s cool, you tell me when you’re ready.” He brushes it off wanting to get out of this conversation already. 

Everybody is looking at him like his head starting spinning 360 degrees. He looks like he’s just waiting for everybody to get the memo and move on already.

That is until Steve interrupts, seemingly the only one who caught up, “Wait, do you think I’m gay?!”

-

So, yeah, Eddie is not the brightest bulb in the batch. But it makes for some truly entertaining conversations, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

A/N: Please like, reblog, and leave a comment if you like it! It encourages me to continue to write, and usually other people's enthusiasm gets me excited and in the mood to write even more stuff.

[aylasrants]

BENEDICT BRIDGERTON YOU ABSOLUTE SLUT

Minimal amount of buttons done, cufflinks off, chest exposed, gloveless, while kissing her bare palm like that.

And they only just met.

The slutty audacity.

[aylasrants]

ATSHEBEJWJBAGSHSVBDJSJWNSKSKSBJSKSNDBSKSKSNHXKSNSBXJENSVSKSKBWJSKXBWBAKSBDVSJJWKSNDJOWNSBXOWJSBXJS

I CAN'T, THIS IS TOO MUCH FOR ME

[aylasrants]

THE WAY I SCREAMED!!!!!!

my shaylas 😭😭😭

OH MY GOD

[aylasrants]

me when i realize there’s still many many months before s4 is out

Yerin Ha and Luke Thompson behind the scenes of Bridgerton season four (2025)

[aylasrants]

fun fact nobody asked for: i actually love cleaning other people’s rooms (that i’m close to that is) but my room… HATE THAT BITCH

anyhow totally see myself doing this with Eddie, brb i’m gonna daydream

Filthy? How about Reader helping Eddie clean his damn room 🤣 (mine is not much better)

You don't know why you agree to help him. Eddie's room is quite possibly the worst you've ever seen and you don't want to judge him because you know that people's living spaces can often be abandoned for various reasons, but jesus christ is it absolutely horrific. You can't even see the floor so you stay in the doorway, terrified of what's inside.

Eddie steps in without a second thought then holds a hand out to you that you reluctantly take as he pulls you inside. You grimace as you look around, piles and piles of clothes with various other items among them.

It's so overwhelming that you don't even know where to start. Eddie is by his desk, sorting all of the stuff that sits atop it, muttering t o himself. You know he's not going to be any help, so you just decide to start somewhere, hoping to somehow be able to see the floor again.

There's a magazine on top and you flip it over to find a half naked woman on the cover. Curiosity getting the best of you, you flip through it, only to find that some of the pages are stuck together. Upon your discovery, you toss it back down in disgust, looking for something to wipe your hands on.

"Jesus, Eddie," you grimace and he turns around just in time to see the magazine land back down on the pillow.

"That's not mine," he tells you with a shake of his head. "That's Gareth's. He must have left it here." He's telling the truth, but you're not sure if you believe him. You shouldn't be surprised since that seems like the exact kind of thing he'd do. It's not like you care to argue anyway. There are much more important things to do.

Once his desk is clean, together, you and Eddie wash and dry and put away all of his clothes. It's definitely the most domestic thing you've done together and once you've gotten into a groove, you have to admit that you don't hate it.

You like doing these kinds of things with Eddie. You like Eddie. You're sure he already knows this, though since you haven't exactly been subtle about it, but you're pretty sure he likes you to.

And he does. He likes you a lot and to be honest, you're the only person he'd ask to help him because he knows you wouldn't judge him, and you didn't. You made faces, sure, but you never actually said anything. You just helped him with that pretty smile on your face without a single complaint.

And once the cleaning is all over, you both lie on his freshly made bed together, smiling at each other as a result of your job well done. Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead before pulling you to his chest, hoping that he'll finally get the guts to tell you how he feels.

[aylasrants]

“can mutuals dm you?” my mutuals can fire me from a cannon through a brick wall, looney tunes style. as long as we’re all having fun

[aylasrants]

feeding my delusions one headcanon at a time

♥️ boyfriend eddie munson (headcanons)

boyfriend eddie munson who uses your tummy as a pillow and consistently asks if you can breath because he doesn’t want to smother you

boyfriend eddie munson who gets you the best seat in the house to let the fans know that while he may be their favorite rockstar, he’s yours only

boyfriend eddie munson who said he would fall asleep in the theater when you want to see a girly film but he actually finds it interesting

boyfriend eddie munson who adds a beautiful woman to each campaign and annoys the boys because they all know its you and he wont shut up about you

boyfriend eddie munson who may or may not have stolen a top of yours for when you leave so he has something that smells like you (he gave you his hoodie)

boyfriend eddie munson who acts out dramatic scenes from different movies to make you laugh when its been a rough day

boyfriend eddie munson who not only holds your hand, but your shoulder and hip while walking through large crowds to make sure you never get separated

boyfriend eddie munson who not only agreed, but gave the most dramatic performance on halloween when you told him you wanted to be morticia and gomez addams

boyfriend eddie munson who loves when you wash his curls and compares it to those baby ducks in the dawn commercials (continues to beg you to get a pet duck)

[aylasrants]

"You're clueless, you know that?" - Reader x Eddie Munson & Reader x Steve Harrington (fake)

Summary: You agree to accompany Steve to Enzo's for Valentine's Day with only one shared goal in mind - to make Eddie so jealous he has no choice but to have the one conversation he's being avoiding.

Pairings: F!Reader x Steve Harrington & F!Reader x Eddie Munson.

Chapter: 1 of 1.

W/C: 2314.

A/N: Happy Valentines Day, besties! This trope paired with Steve and Eddie has had me in a chokehold for a while now and I'm so happy that the lil ADHD gremlin in my brain has finally let me write the damn thing. <3

This one-shot can also be found on AO3 here.

“You really think that’ll work? Pretending to go on a date with you?” you asked, leaning against the counter at Family Video.

“It better work. Personally, I’m sick of hearing you pine over him. He’s had a thing for you ever since you joined Hellfire but he’s completely clueless when it comes to all the hints you’ve dropped,” Robin chimed in without looking up from the ‘returns’ pile of videotapes she was sorting through.

Clueless didn’t even begin to cut it.

You’d known about Eddie’s crush on you for months now, ever since Dustin slipped up and spilled the beans at lunch one day. The poor kid made you swear on your own life that you wouldn’t tell Eddie you knew.

True to your word, you kept the secret and began dropping hints instead. Eddie couldn’t read the room to save his life.

Any time you caught him staring, he’d break eye contact before you could smile back at him. Any time your hands accidentally touched, he’d move his hand away and play it off if you didn’t keep your hand perfectly still.

“I think it’s perfect,” Steve smiled. “There’s nothing like a bit of jealously to make you realise what you want.”

“I dunno,” you mumbled, chewing your cheek while you weighed up your options.

“When he sees you all dolled up, thinking it’s for me, the dots will connect. Trust me.”

“Fine, I’ll find out when he’s working.”

-

Steve’s plan had been in the back of your mind the whole time you’d been sitting around the table with your fellow Hellfire members. It was a long game of highs and lows all night. Despite the distraction, you’d manage to come out of the battle victorious with a mere five health points left. The party, albeit a little bruised and battered, was one step closer to defeating Myrkul and Eddie was in a good mood.

It took the usual fifteen minutes to pack up Eddie’s maps, dice, tokens, and other various game pieces before you climbed into the passenger side of his van. “Sorry for the mess,” Eddie apologised.

“You say that every week and yet you never clean it.”

“I do, it just gets messy again,” he smirked.

You were halfway home when you glanced over at Eddie. His hair was frizzy, sticking up in places from all the near misses in battle where he’d had his hands running through it. The rings on his left hand were glowing gently from the reflection of his lit cigarette as he used it to control the steering wheel. His right hand was methodically fiddling with the busted cassette player that he’d been meaning to fix for months. As always when Eddie was concentrating, his tongue was sticking out and resting against his top lip.

“Got it!” he exclaimed as Rainbow in the Dark started blasting from the speaker, a huge grin spread across his face.

“When are you going to buy a new one?” you chuckled, prodding at the battered box.

“Stop touching it,” he slapped your hand away. “It’ll start crackling again. I’ve picked up some overtime next weekend, I’m hoping the gents will be tipping big to impress their dates.”

“No Valentine’s plan with anyone special then?”

“Nope, just work. Doubt there’s anyone out there who would want to spend their Valentine’s Day with the ‘Freak of Hawkins’ anyway.”

“You’d be surprised, some people like their men a little freaky.”

“What about you? Any plans?” he asked, the change in tone rather subtle.

For a moment, you weren’t sure if you were going to go through with the plan. Steve’s words echoed through your mind listed the pros and cons. ‘Trust me.’

“Yeah, I’ve got a date at Enzo's. At least I don’t have to worry about it going bad now if you’re working, you can come over and scare him off for me.”

“That’s great. Wow, a date. Um, yeah, I’ll fend him off for you if things go pear-shaped. Do I, uh, know the guy?” he stuttered.

“I don’t want to jinx it,” you answered, remembering Robin's claims that a little bit of mystery would be the key to the whole plan working.

“Of course,” Eddie agreed, a sarcastically dumb look plastered on his face. You couldn’t help but notice that this was exactly how he used to act when Dustin mentioned Steve. “Would you look at that? Here we are. Once again, dropped off in one piece, as requested.”

“You okay, Ed?” you ask, one eyebrow raised.

“Yep. Fine. Tired,” he mumbled through an unconvincing yawn. “Long game. I’m gonna go and, uh, get some sleep. Night.”

-

“And he said it exactly like that?” Steve asked.

“Yes, Steve, how many times do I have to go through it? He basically kicked me out of the van,” you answered.

“It’s definitely working.”

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent. Wait until he finds out it’s me, he’s gonna freak.”

“He might not react at all. Believe it or not, he is professional at work.”

“Bet on it?”

“Shut up.”

-

Eddie had been an asshole all week.

Jeff and Gareth got the worst of it. You, however, had been getting the silent treatment. It was Thursday lunchtime when Eddie finally acknowledged you again.

“So, what are your plans this weekend?” Dustin asked Mike.

“Movies with El then dinner, you?”

“Arcade with Will. What about you, Eddie?”

“Work and band, why?”

“It’s called small talk,” Dustin answered. “What is with you this week?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he snapped.

“Tell your face that, man,” added Jeff.

“Lay off it. Why don’t you ask her what she’s doing this weekend instead and leave me alone?” Eddie prompted, gesturing in your direction. He did not stick around to hear the answer, walking away dramatically.

“Well, what are you doing?” asked Dustin.

“I’ve got a date,” you answered quickly and quietly, sinking into your seat as a sense of guilt began to creep up on you.

“You what?!” asked Gareth.

“I said I’ve got a date.”

“Yeah, I heard you. The fuck do you mean you’ve got a date? With who?”

“Does it matter?” you ask asked.

“Evidently it does. I’ve been taking the brunt of his crap all week and you’re telling me it’s because you’re going on a date?”

“How was I supposed to know he’d react like this?” you quickly try to defend yourself.

“Are you blind?” Jeff asks.

“No, but he is. I’ve dropped hints. Lots of them. If he doesn’t want to acknowledge it then that’s on him.”

-

“Wow,” smiled Steve, looking you up and down. He took your hand, albeit rather dramatically, and began leading you to the car.

“Save it for the restaurant, you dingus. Does this look okay then?” you ask.

“The dress alone might kill him, never mind the heels and hair.”

Ten minutes later, Steve parked up outside Enzo's.

“When we get in there, sit with your back to the bar. You’re about to get the full Harrington charm, okay?” he asked.

“Got it.”

“Hi there, table for two under Harrington,” Steve told the hostess.

“Follow me.”

“Here we are,” the hostess said as she gestured to a small table. “Here are your menus, the waiter will be over to take your order shortly.”

“Thank you,” you replied, taking the seat that Steve had pulled out for you.

“So,” you began.

“So,” Steve replied with a grin.

“I’m not going to lie, Steve, I feel really awkward.”

“I can tell,” he responded. “Relax. We’re just two friends, dressed up, and having a nice meal. Loosen up a little and have fun, or this isn’t going to work.”

You tried to relax, really, you did. But you couldn’t help shake the feeling that Eddie was burning holes into the back of your head with his staring.

“Welcome to Enzo's, my name is Ruben and I’ll be your server this evening. Any drinks to start?”

“Sparkling water for me, and…” Steve prompted.

“Lemonade, please.”

“Awesome, I’ll get that put in at the bar for you. Any starters today?”

“Do you-” Steve began, turning his attention back to you.

“More of a dessert person,” you answer.

“Me too,” smiled Ruben. “What mains would you like?”

“Lasagne for me, please,” answered Steve.

“Chicken Alfredo, please.”

“Awesome. I’ll get all that put in for you, enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, ‘preciate that,” Steve told him before he left the table.

After a couple of minutes of the usual “how was work?” and “how was school?” small talk, Steve’s gaze quickly shot behind you as he sat up a little bit straighter.

“Here’s your lemonade,” Eddie announced, placing the glass down in front of you.

“Thanks, Eddie. How’s your shift?” you asked with a smile.

“So-so. Started going downhill about twenty minutes ago,” he answered.

“Nothing worse than a shitty Friday shift,” Steve chimed in.

“Evening rush,” Eddie responded, unwilling to meet Steve’s gaze. “Everything okay over here?”

“Great, thank you,” you respond.

“Harrington,” Eddie muttered, placing Steve’s water in front of him with a little bit more force than he did the lemonade, before heading back to the bar.

“He won’t even look at me, this is working even better than I thought,” Steve chuckled.

-

One hour and one chicken alfredo later, Ruben returned.

“Well you two are looking cosy over here,” he told you. Steve had been giving you cues on how to sit and when to laugh all evening. “How about that dessert? I highly recommend the ‘brownie and ice cream for two.’ Chef special tonight.”

“Sounds perfect,” answered Steve.

“Alrighty, that’ll be about ten to fifteen minutes. Any more drinks?”

“The same again, please,” you answer.

A couple of minutes later, Steve gave another instruction.

“Rest your left arm on the table.”

“What?”

“Now.”

Steve let out a sudden laugh and adjusted himself in his seat. He placed his arm on the table, his fingertips slightly brushing against your own.

A loud crashing noise from behind you had heads rolling to see what was going on. Every pair of eyes in the restaurant landed on Eddie.

“Sorry folks,” he announced. Eddie quickly began picking up the larger shards of glass whilst another bartender brought over cloths and a broom.

“Hook, line, and sinker,” Steve whispered, loud enough for only you to hear.

-

You really were getting the full Harrington charm, as promised. Steve had been feeding you brownie on and off for ten minutes, his glancing over to Eddie quickly now and again.

“It’s almost time,” Steve whispered.

“Time for what?”

“The grand finale.”

Steve leaned in slightly and wiped the side of your mouth gently with his thumb. “Ice cream,” he smirked.

“Is that really necessary?”

“One hundred percent. On my cue, you’re going to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom,” he began.

“But-”

“If this whole fake date has gone to plan, which by the way has been lovely, then I do believe Munson won’t let you make it that far. Go now.”

As instructed, you excused yourself from the table and made your way towards the bathroom. Just as you got to the door you felt a hand close softly around your wrist.

“Hey, can we talk?” Eddie asked.

“Everything okay?”

“No, actually, it’s not,” he answered. Eddie glanced around before pulling you through a door labelled ‘staff only’.

“Eddie, wha-”

“You can’t date Steve.”

“I can date whoever I like Eddie,” you respond.

“Why him?” he asked, his hand still wrapped lightly around your wrist.

“Why not?”

“Because,” he began, pausing in thought. “Because he’s… he’s got a reputation. Surely you’ve heard all the rumours?”

“And we both know him well enough to know he’s not that person anymore,” you answer, your gaze locking with Eddie’s who, surprisingly, held it.

“You just can’t, please,” he pleaded.

“Give me a good enough reason as to why I shouldn’t go back out there and I won’t.”

Eddie stayed silent for a few moments, his big, brown eyes locked on yours. The small staff room became stuffy all of a sudden, the air so thick it felt like you could barely breathe. You held your ground, waiting for him to speak, but he didn’t. You stared back at Eddie, your eyes pleading with him to just say something. Anything.

You broke your gaze from Eddie’s and turned towards the door, ready to give up and go home. Eddie’s grip on your wrist tightened and he pulled you back towards him, using his free hand to cup your face as his lips met yours.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been there, Eddie kissing you, but it felt like forever. The tension in the air vanished, leaving you with a cozy feeling deep in your stomach, where the butterflies used to live. 

“You can do better than him. You deserve better than him. You deserve someone who knows that you take extra sugar in your coffee when you’re studying. Someone who knows that you’re a completely evil genius in the best way possible when it comes to D&D. Someone who knows you’d rather be in bed with a book at-” he glanced at his watch, “nine o’clock at night. Someone who apparently isn’t very good at making the first move.”

“You’re clueless, you know that?”

“I am?”

“Yeah,” you replied, leaning in to kiss him again.

If it wasn’t for Ruben who knows how long you would have stood there, entwined together, lost in the moment.

“Hey man, you heading home?” Eddie asked casually, placing a little distance between the two of you.

“I was, but turns out I’m staying late. Guy with the hair on table twelve tipped me a hundred bucks to finish your bar shift and fetch a fresh brownie out. Said you ‘owe him one’ and you can ‘square it up later’. Brownie will be out in five. Enjoy.”

[aylasrants]

now picture eddie giving you this look while he’s performing

[aylasrants]

i love these!! omw to daydream about them 🤭

EDDIE MUNSON HCs P.1- sfw

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

just some headcannons i have for our boy <3 (I'll make a nsfw version tmr)

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

Eddie hates being alone, he was always left alone at home as a kid, His mum working her second job in late afternoons and his dad leaving to get drunk at the local dive bar. it just makes him feel neglected and brings him back to his childhood self's feelings.

I think we all know this guy has a massive snoring problem, but he also kicks you off the bed, hogs the blanket and talks yells in his sleep, sometimes even slaps you in the face when he turns around.

^ he also has terrible nightmares sometimes, waking up in sweat after his dad beat him up in his dream, almost brought to tears as he struggles to breath, during this he'll look around his room frantically and pat the bed, trying to grab or see anything comforting to him, just trying to calm down.

he bites his nails when nervous or anxious of something

he secretly sleeps with a Russ Berrie Bear named Ozzy

^ his mother had saved up money to get it for his 5th birthday, and even though its been 15 years, Eddie still holds onto it.

he'll help out the old lady that lives in the trailer behind him and wayne, usually with hanging close or look for her cat, and always turn down the money she tries to give him, but always accepts a slice of pie she has sitting on the sill

he loves caramel, he'll always have a caramel candy in his pocket or a chew in his locker

he's seen Grease over 10 times, he just won't admit it. he'll even mimic the lines.

loves bad and shit made movies, they make him laugh, specifically Attack of the killer tomatoes

at 16 years old, he claimed he wanted to be 'one with nature' and went 'camping' out in the woods by the trailer park, he came back and wayne had to hear all about how his body itches and he swears that he had fought off a racoon. never did it again

when he first started living with wayne, he believed that the mirrors were portals (cause he didn't have mirrors) and tried to run though the mirror in his new room, obviously it broke and he has a scar on his arm.

loves peanut butter- if he feels like a snack, he'll grab a spoon and just go to town.

if you were to ask Eddie what his favourite non metal song is, he'd laugh and say 'yeah right, as if', but if you were to ask him on a deeper level, he would say 'purple rain' by prince or 'Born Under A Bad Sign' by Albert King

^his mum loved blues music and one of the only memories he has of her is her dancing to Born under a bad sign in their livingroom and Eddie watched.

^ at the age of 16, Wayne had given Eddie a mixtape of his mothers, he plays all of the music when he misses her.

Hates pickles

Last time he wet the bed was at 8 years old. His dad made him watch the exorcist and the poor boy cried himself to sleep and woke up covered in pee, his nightmares have always been bad

he's good with a gun and shooting because his dad used to force him into hunting with him, which only ended up traumatising him.

hates coffee, he thinks this is too bitter

^he likes tea though, not his favourite drink but it's better than coffee.

[aylasrants]

new year love ; eddie munson

synopsis: at a new year’s party in new york, you & eddie share a cigarette & love confessions as the clock strikes midnight.

warnings: friends to lovers, love confessions, mentions of smoking, fem reader in mind, talk of new years, rockstar!eddie & downbad!eddie, a few swear words

note: happy early new year! 💫

“i thought i’d find you out he—oh c’mon, you’re smoking without me? ouch”

eddie doesn’t have to look in the voice’s direction to know it’s you. he plucks the cigarette from his lips & laughs, smoke drifting into the air when you leaned against the balcony rail at his side.

he let you take the cigarette from his fingers to take a drag, his eyes trained on the new york city buildings below. “got bored inside with everyone else, princess?” he asked with a smile, turning his gaze to you with a shoulder nudge.

you predictably rolled your eyes at him, the small smile on your lips betraying you. “wouldn’t you like to know, big boy” you toyed with him, swiping your tongue across your teeth when you noticed his face slightly decompose at your nickname for him.

it got him good every time.

“i would,” he murmured. “you look nice, did i mention that already?” eddie’s fingers traced the material of your black shimmery dress on your shoulder, rubbing his hand down your arm once he saw goosebumps.

you took another drag before answering. “hmmm, i think this is your third time telling me. but thank you. you’re quite the charmer, munson” you stepped closer to him now along the rail, letting your head fall against his leather clad shoulder while his arm circled your waist.

eddie took the cigarette back from you, taking the last few hits before stomping it out under his boot. “this view sure beats hawkins” he says into the air, eyes glimmering across the buildings in the distance.

“totally agree with you there”

you both were in new york to celebrate the ending of corroded coffin’s first tour around the USA, which happened to land on the same night as new years. by this point into the night, eddie forgot which floor the apartment you both were partying at was on—hell, he doesn’t really remember the name of the building—but the view made him think he was at the top of the world, especially with you here too.

the setting only made him want to kiss & squeeze all the love out of you, but he was too much of a wuss to do that regardless of the confident front he puts on. he thinks you can kinda see through it.

“eds” you breathed all soft, feeling warm when his relaxed gaze fell to you.

“you got any new year’s resolutions?”

he was silent for a moment, looking back to the skyline to think while you brushed some snowflakes out of his messy lockes.

tell you i love you, he thought to himself.

shrugging his shoulders, he acted unsure. “i dunno,” his breath now fanned your face a little. “just be a better version of myself i guess. what about you, princess? got any goals?”

his arm moved to wrap around your shoulders, dusting a few snowflakes from your jacket. you looked at him a little too closely, your heart thumping in your chest a little too hard.

tell you i love you, you thought to yourself.

you shrugged your shoulders too, teeth chattering when a shiver ran down your spine. “be more honest about how i feel, i suppose…” you trailed on, peaking eddie’s interest.

he quirked a brow. “so, gimme a taste of that honesty—anything you wanna tell me?”

you knew he was joking, just being the playful guy he is. but you couldn’t help but feel like he was actually interested—& it made your stomach tighten into a bundle of nerves.

“oh—pfft” you waved a hand, signalling it was unimportant. “i-i don’t got anything—what about you, you got something?” you turned the question around, leaving eddie to also feel nervous.

it’s on the tip of his tongue, & you were waiting in anticipation.

“the countdown is starting! 10…”

with widened eyes & parched mouths, you & eddie just stared at one another.

“uhhh, that’s a good question…” he laughed it off, his skin growing warmer as the countdown continued. “hypothetically would it ruin things?” he rushed out, causing you to tilt your head.

“9, 8…”

“what do you mean?”

“7, 6…”

he bite his tongue, cursing to himself. “i don’t wanna ruin what we got going on”

“5, 4…”

the anticipation was killing you, causing you to tighten your grip on the back of his jacket a tad. “eds—maybe i should say my thing—“

“okay, say it”

“3, 2, 1…”

“i love you” you rushed out, watching eddie’s face drop into shock & surprise.

“happy new year!”

the balcony was silent between you two as the sky erupted into fireworks, friends cheered, & the city roared.

sucking in a harsh breath, you were about to pull away from his hold & hideaway in the bathroom until you were hastily pulled towards his chest, a ring clad hand pressed into the skin of your cheek until your lips touched eddie’s. it was hard at first, a little hesitant between you two. you felt so much shock that you didn’t move a muscle until your brain processed it—eddie was kissing you.

it wasn’t until your hands gripped the collar of his jacket, pulling him closer (as if that was even possible), that eddie groaned into your mouth, smiling when he felt you kissing him back with equal excitement. lost in each other, you both tiptoed to the closest wall, eddie’s back resting against the brick with you pulled taut to his front.

his fingers curled into your hair, being careful of the star pins & headband you were wearing as yours migrated to the base of his neck, fingers musing with his silver chain.

“eddie—“

“i feel the same—i love you—was just too chicken shit to say it—i’m sorry” he breathed against your lips before diving in again, catching your surprised breath.

before he could get too lost in it, he pulled away, eyes still closed & hands not straying from your body. he felt a little delirious from the rush of endorphins & adrenaline.

you brushed your hand against his tainted pink cheek, thumb brushing away some of your lipstick from his mouth. “it’s okay. y’just got a little something…” you murmured, jumping when he stuck his tongue out to poke your finger. you scoffed & he scrunched his

“you’re a dork” eddie scrunched his nose.

“i’m your dork—i really wanna be—that was my resolution” he said smoothly & honestly, combing your hair & smiling brighter when your head leaned into his touch.

you licked your lips. “i guess we both accomplished our resolutions, huh?”

eddie nodded, his forehead leaning to rest on yours. “it’s been a great fucking new year already, i think we’re on a roll. don’t ya think so, princess?”

[aylasrants]

“thank you mike” we all say in unison

Eddie Munson x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: You never meant for Eddie to know that you had a crush on him. What happened when he found out, courtesy of Mike Wheeler's big mouth?

WC: 2.6k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), angst to fluff to smut and then back to fluff?? I don't even know, idiots in love, p in v, semi-public sex (we get it on in the van, baby)

Part of @cherrycolored-punk's Softember event!

Divider credit to @saradika

Friday, May 16, 1986: the day you determined that Mike Wheeler was the worst. 

You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, it couldn’t be easy growing up in Nancy’s perfect shadow. Just the time you spent working with her on the school newspaper was exhausting. 

That was where you were currently sprinting from, weaving through the empty hallways towards the drama room. Leave it to Nancy to schedule an emergency newspaper meeting on a Friday afternoon. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” You kept your head down as you breezed into the Hellfire meeting. Even without looking, you could feel the guys glaring at you. The only thing less forgivable than missing a campaign was interrupting one. 

Gareth let out a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nice of you to join us, Lady Atwood.” He shifted forward in his seat. “You’re in luck today—our fearless Dungeon Master has yet to grace us with his presence.”

You wrinkled your nose, only then noticing that Eddie’s throne remained empty. “Where is he?”

From his spot at the table, Mike Wheeler scoffed. “Surprised you don’t know, considering you’re basically in love with him.”

You were about to refute his statement, or at least give him a well-deserved middle finger, when you heard a clattering behind you. 

Like metal hitting the floor tiles.

No. No, no no no…

“S-Sorry.” Eddie stammered. He quickly scooped up the tin lunch box that doubled as a place to stash his weed. “I had a last-minute deal. Apparently there’s a party at McKinney’s house tonight and he needed some, uh, provisions. So, uh, yeah.” He cleared his throat, eyes darting around the room and looking at everyone except for you. “We can get started.”

There might as well have been a spotlight beaming down, accentuating the embarrassment written all over your face. Everyone in Hellfire knew about your crush on Eddie, but they had the decency to keep it a secret. 

Everyone except for Mike Wheeler, apparently. God, you wanted to squish that little shit like a bug beneath your shoe.

It certainly didn’t help that Eddie kept glancing at you, even when he addressed the group. Like he was waiting for you to say something about Mike’s comment. Waiting for you to refute it, to roll your eyes and whip out a snappy comeback. Maybe he was even hoping you would.

He was probably internally cringing just thinking about you having romantic feelings for him.

“Lady Atwood?”

Your gaze instinctively snapped over to Eddie when he said your name. He was looking at you, brown eyes wide with anticipation of your response. 

Warmth crept up your neck. He had heard what Mike said about you being in love with him–he had to have. He’d just had the good grace to brush over it because…

Because he didn’t feel the same way and didn’t want to cause you any further humiliation.

“Y-Yeah?” You choked on the word, trying to put the incident behind you. But you couldn’t, because the pain of unrequited feelings kept yanking on your heart, drawing tears that you desperately wished would evaporate.

“Gareth the Great has proposed battling the demogorgon.” There was a hint of a smirk on Eddie’s lips. It was your first clue that the move would prove entertaining, perhaps at your character’s demise. “We’re waiting for your input.”

Nodding, you chewed the inside of your cheek and studied the board. Okay, it looked like winning the battle was feasible, though a bit risky. The rest of the club watched as you contemplated; Gareth especially was practically vibrating with anticipation.

Then the ceiling started leaking. Soft drops with no particular rhythm, landing on your cheeks. Just your luck–first Mike’s big mouth spilled your secret, then whatever nastiness was living in Hawkins High School’s pipes was now seeping into your skin.

“Holy shit, is she crying?”

Dustin Henderson’s voice broke into your thoughts. His tone, for possibly the first time since you’d met him, held only concern with a note of snark.

Who was crying? You were the only girl in the club now that Ronnie had graduated, save for the times Erica Sinclair served as a substitute. Which meant…

“Way to go, asshole.” Lucas thwacked Mike across the chest. 

“I didn’t know he was there!”

The purple fabric of your shirt darkened beneath your arms as another disconcerting flash of heat hit you. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Maybe you’d get lucky and the floor would open beneath you and swallow you up. 

“I need to get some air.” Whether you spoke the words aloud or said them silently to yourself, you weren’t sure. 

Your feet seemed to carry you out of the room and through the school’s front doors. Tears blurred your vision, and you swiped them away before any other lingering students could see. 

The air was warm, teasing of the approaching summer. God, summer—you always spent it with Eddie, lounging by the public pool or sitting down at Lovers Lake. You’d read a book while he pored over his Hellfire notebook, scribbling notes for future campaign ideas. 

Would he still want to do that, to spend those long days with you, now that he knew about your pathetic crush? 

It wasn’t until you reached the parking lot that you remembered: Eddie drove you to school that morning. If you started walking now, you’d definitely get home before dark. Or maybe you could call your parents from the payphone if you managed to scrounge up the change—

The sound of your name stopped you in your tracks. You should’ve kept walking the moment you saw Eddie, his frizzy curls bouncing as he jogged over to you. 

“Hey.” His hand brushed yours, though you pulled away before he could grab ahold of it. “Where are you going?”

“Home.”

He sighed. “Okay, let me rephrase that: Why did you leave? Because of what Wheeler said?” Eddie let out a small, disbelieving laugh when you nodded. “He’s such a little shit. Always messing with me. I’m gonna kick his sorry ass one of these days.”

Your eyebrows shot up. Messing with Eddie? “What are you talking about?”

“That joke about you being in love with me. He obviously saw me in the doorway and said it to embarrass me.” A blush crept onto Eddie’s cheeks. “Y’know, ‘cause…”

But you didn’t know. You had no idea what he meant. And as much as Mike was a menace, he seemed sincere when he said he didn’t realize that Eddie was there. 

“Because why?”

“Because,” Eddie’s gaze shifted to his van’s tires before he finally looked at you again. “Because he knows I have this dumb crush on you, and he thinks it’s hilarious to fuck with me about it.”

Words evaded you. This had to be some sort of elaborate set-up. Eddie had a crush on you? When girls like Chrissy Cunningham and Heather Holloway lived in the very same town? 

Impossible. 

Not privy to the argument playing out inside your head—thank God—Eddie babbled on. “I know it’s weird. That’s why I haven’t told you—well, until right now. And I’m starting to regret it, because you’re looking at me like I have three heads. So maybe I’ll just shut up now.”

“No.” Summoning all of your courage, you took his hand in yours and managed a smile. “Eddie, Mike was teasing me because I like you. More than a friend should like a friend.”

Eddie’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. “What if I told you…I don’t want to just be friends?”

You let your eyes meet his. “I-I don’t want to just be friends, either.”

He took a pause before he asked his next question. Your heartbeat thrummed in your ears as you waited for him to speak.

“And what if I did this?” One palm, callused from years of guitar playing, cupped your cheek. Eddie moved closer, his nose bumping against yours in a clumsy attempt to close the gap between you. “Shit, that–that was supposed to be suave.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Munson.” The words left your mouth before you could think them through. Your fingers tangled into his hair, pulling him back towards you and finishing what he had started.

His lips, soft and tasting vaguely of the cigarettes he’d smoked after school, crashed into yours. One hand snaked around your waist and pressed you against him until you felt his metal belt buckle through your shirt.

You moaned softly, letting his tongue into your mouth without hesitation. More, more, more…you needed more. You needed all of him. 

It was Eddie who broke the kiss, much to your chagrin. But what he said next made up for the loss.

“Sorry…I’m trying to be a gentleman. But it’s, uh, getting a little hard.” He chuckled, stealing another quick kiss. “Pun very much intended.”

A quick glance proved that Eddie wasn’t lying: His erection tantalizingly strained against his fly. What you wouldn’t give to feel him inside you…

“Y’know, take you on a date, tell you how pretty you look,” Eddie continued, shifting his stance in a pitiful attempt to quell his desire. “I don’t wanna go at it in the school parking lot like some feral rabbits.” He waved his hand haphazardly. 

You bit your lip, weighing your options. A date would be nice; perhaps a night at The Hawk, his arm around you as a movie played on a giant screen. Or maybe he’d take you to dinner—nothing as expensive as Enzo’s, but somewhere more romantic than your usual Benny’s hangout. 

A date with Eddie was something you’d only ever dreamed of. But right now, you needed to live out a different fantasy before you combusted from an overload of lust. 

“Remember the first campaign you created this year?” Your soft voice held a sultry air despite your nerves. “It was your most sadistic one yet. We were all ready to forfeit, but you took pity on us and gave us a hint.”

Taking a deep breath, you plunged your hand into his front pocket. “Do you remember what you said?”

Eddie shook his head. “I can’t remember my own goddamn name right now, Sweetheart.”

You laughed, your finger hooking around his keyring. “You said that sometimes, it’s better to work backwards.”

With a triumphant grin, you plucked the keys from his pocket. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” His own smile betrayed his exasperated exterior as he grabbed your hand. His van seemed a million miles away, though it was parked in one of the closest spots in the lot. 

Eddie yanked open the back door, waiting just long enough for you to get settled before he scrambled in behind you. The moment the door closed, he pulled you on top of him. 

You could feel him, feel his hardness, against your core. You rolled your hips instinctively, savoring the friction. 

Hands clamped down on your denim-covered thighs. “You gotta…you can’t…” Eddie choked, struggling for words. “We’re already about to do it in my van. I don’t wanna look even more pathetic by coming in my pants.”

Warmth blossomed in your body. You could imagine him sputtering out a stream of swear words as he came, flooding his own boxers with his release. 

Maybe another day. 

Buttons were undone, flies were unzipped, clothes were discarded into a pile in the corner of the van. It was only you and Eddie, not a single scrap of fabric between you. 

Sweat glistened on his chest, matting down the sparse hairs that curled around his nipples. You leaned in, kissing just above the demon head tattoo etched on his pec. 

“Baby,” he crooned. The new pet name wasn’t lost on you. Your heart beat faster, a butterfly frantically flapping its wings. “Baby, I need you.”

He did need you, unless he was going to take care of his achingly hard cock by himself. The pink tip leaked with pre-cum, and if you had more room, you would have licked it clean off. 

You settled for swiping it away with your thumb, his abdomen tightening at the sudden contact. Eddie nearly passed out on the spot when you sucked on your finger, savoring the salty taste.

“Baby,” he groaned again. “I w-wanted to get you off first, ‘cause I know I’m not gonna last like this.”

“S’okay.” You lined him up with your entrance, ignoring the way your hands shook as you slowly sank down onto him. His hips bucked up almost of their own accord. “F-Fuck, Eddie…”

Eddie looked up at you, brown irises wide. He paused for an extra moment; maybe he really had forgotten his own name. “I know, I know,” he said finally. “God, I fucking know, baby.” 

His thumb found your clit the second he composed himself, rubbing delicate circles until your toes curled. His other hand held you with just enough force to keep you stable while still being able to ride him.

“You’re so beautiful.” He let out a breathless laugh. “If I wake up and this was all a dream, I’m gonna be pissed.”

You shared the same thought. What if the Eddie laying before you, curls splayed against the worn carpet of his van, groaning your name–your name–was all a mirage? Another fantasy conjured up by your lovesick brain?

“I’ve never had a dream this good before.”

“Me either,” he admitted, “but the only ones that’ve come close involve you.”

You tightened around him, your hands flush against his chest. The fact that you occupied his thoughts, unconscious or otherwise, sent a wave of arousal rolling through you. You wanted to hear every last detail of those dreams, to know exactly what turned him on.

Maybe later. Right now, your focus stayed on the way he touched you. So intentional, so precise. And Eddie worked you through your orgasm, keeping his same rhythm as you came around him.

“There you go, pretty girl. That’s it,” he murmured. “‘M close. Where do you–where can I–”

“Inside.” You’d never been more grateful to be on the pill. 

Eddie let himself go, unleashing a torrent of desire. He thrust into you, chasing his own release now that he knew you’d gotten yours.

It was only when he slowed his pace, milking the last drops of cum from his cock, that reality began to settle in.

You just had sex with your best friend in the back of his van, a few hundred feet away from where your friends were gathered around a DnD board–

“Oh my God, Eddie!” Your eyes snapped open in realization. “Hellfire–they’re still there.”

Eddie pulled you closer and kissed your forehead. You relaxed into his chest. “They’re smart guys when they’re not being idiots.” The words vibrated against your skin. “I’m sure they figured out that we weren’t coming back.”

He sighed, wrapping one arm around you. “Can I take you on that date now, baby? Y’know, once we get dressed.” He smirked. “We can go to Scoops Ahoy and split a sundae. And then, if you want, I’ll take you back to my place and undress you again?”

You scrambled for your clothes almost as quickly as you’d shed them, Eddie following suit. And as much as you wanted to have sex with him again, to really take your time and cherish each second, you were equally excited to cuddle up in a booth and share some ice cream.

Friday, May 16, 1986: the day Mike Wheeler’s lack of filter didn’t completely backfire. Because it was also the day that you and Eddie Munson became boyfriend and girlfriend.

--

[aylasrants]

COME HOME, PLEASE!! THE KIDS AND I MISS YOU!!

[aylasrants]

what they said!

in case it wasn’t clear. this blog and this bitch do NOT support the industrial military complex.

[aylasrants]