#Eddie munson x female reader

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Pen Ink & Motor Oil

Blurb: Eddie has worked as a mechanic in Tucker’s busy garage for the past three and a half years and you have recently joined as the cute receptionist at the front desk. Based on this nonnie’s request!

Pairing: Mechanic!Eddie x Receptionist!Reader

Warnings: Eddie is in his late 20’s, reader is in her early 20’s, swearing, pet names, smoking (cigarettes) , reader referred to as girl, Eddie has a filthy mouth and the reader likes it. Sexual tension, dom!Eddie, sloppy kisses, fingering, choking, public intimacy, 18+

-

“Would you like a cup of tea? Maybe some coffee?” Your hands rub together furiously, hoping the friction will heat the delicate surface of your skin. This morning played out like it always did between you and Eddie— you would advert your eyes away from his intense gaze and he would toy with the colour on your cheeks like a puppeteer.

“I’ll take a bottle of Pepsi if there’s one in the fridge? Please.” You couldn’t understand his willingness to drink such icy cold liquid when the mornings were already becoming so chilly. Especially in the garage, the freezing cement of the floor and the bare brick of the walls made heat easily escapable.

“You’re crazy,” Laughing you reach down into the small refrigerator behind your desk, plucking out a glass bottle filled with the sugary brown beverage and handing it to Eddie. He lets out what can only be described as a moan as he eyes the bottle in his hand with such admiration, his strong fingers twisting off the bottle cap with ease.

“Thanks, Cutie.” The metal head winks at you, his words leave his mouth with such charisma and fluidity that it makes your tired head buzz with excitement.

After a moment of ridiculous pause you finally clock back into reality, “That’s a cool party trick,” gesturing toward the bottle in Eddie’s manly hands he offers you a hum, smiling politely at you like he always does, “Doesn’t it hurt your hand?”

“Not really— I bet you could do it, if you tried.” He shrugs, his gigantic hand comes to clasp one of his breasts through the tarnished white fabric of his tank top, something you have recently realised he does a lot out of comfort and you can’t help the twitch of your fingertips as you long for the warmth of his soft inked skin against yours.

“Is there a lot booked in for today?” He leaves the bottle on the worktop, his creased boots scrape against the dusty floor as he inches toward your standing frame confidently. He peers over your shoulder, his strong nose is almost tickling the shell of your ear as he tries to read the schedule you had written up the shift before and your breath becomes trapped in the length of your throat at his close proximity.

Your thoughts are a scrambled mess as your nostrils fill with the brunettes intoxicating scent; subtle laundry detergent that smells like winter and clean linen, a fresh, almost minty, shampoo that radiates from his soft hair as it brushes your cheek and the smallest hint of cigarette smoke.

In your daze you blindly hadn’t acknowledged the fact that Eddie was basically bending you over the front desk. Your elbows were propped on the hard acrylic material, your ass perked up into the air and Eddie’s hulking frame was braced over you from behind, “Uhm…” You scream inwardly at yourself and your inability to form any sort of coherent sentence and thought.

“Uhm?” Eddie mocks, his voice deep and hushed. He lets out a small throaty laugh as his fingers dance over the neatly written page laid on the counter in front of you, “Can’t you read your own handwriting, Love?” Another sweet nickname that causes your legs to weaken.

He taps his fingertip on to the column that reads ‘Monday’ at the top of the grid and you can feel his wide grin against the back of your head, “Plenty of time for fun today.” Eddie purrs like a cat in your ear and your body involuntarily shivers at his breath against your neck.

“I’ll come check up on you in an hour or so, yeah? I think the first customer of the day will be arriving soon and I don’t wanna fuck this up.” It takes Eddie every ounce of self control he has to collar himself and retreat to the back of the garage where he can try and meet his deadline for the day. But in complete honesty, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

His chocolate button eyes constantly flicking from the internal organs of a car to the swinging door that separates you from him. He wasn’t afraid to admit that he had developed quite a fondness for you— a little crush, perhaps. You were the nicest girl Tucker had ever hired; above qualified and the most beautiful. You might’ve been the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Gorgeous smile, kind eyes and not to mention a smokin’ bod. You always had this incomparable aroma lingering around you— a perfume he had never smelt before. It was addicting. You were addicting.

Two hours had passed now and Eddie was getting restless. He had already repaired what was needed to the engine and the customer was scheduled to be here any second— he just wanted to chat with you again, to make you laugh and see your skin flush with each of his not-so-discreet compliments. He loved spending time with you. You were the reason he looked forward to coming into work each day.

“Hey, Eddie?” Your gentle voice sings through the room as you poke your head through the door into his space and Eddie bounces to his feet a little too eagerly, his hands toying with an old oil covered rag.

“Yeah? You okay?” His body is reacting before his brain can protest and he is springing over to meet you by the door like an excited puppy. A smile grows on his face with every step closer he gets to you and he watches you shift in your shiny heels with anticipation.

“I’m okay!” You confirm, the palm of your hand resting on the large door which allows a gust of fresh hair to meet Eddie’s now dirtied up face, “The customer is here to check out their car— would you like to come and speak with them before they sign anything?”

“Should be all good to go, Princess.” Eddie winks at you and his heart flutters boldly at the sight of your rosy cheeks. He could never get enough of you— he could stare at you forever, “Hey, after this guy leaves… you wanna come and grab some lunch with me? I usually go to this little place down the street. They have pretty decent sandwiches and stuff.” His hands come to find his hair as he ties it up into a low bun and a sly smirk finds his lips as he watches you watching him, “It’ll be my treat?” Clocking your silence he presses you further for an answer and you nod your head like a startled deer, your lips slightly pouted and parted in embarrassment.

“I would like that!” You squeak, your hands fumbling with your white dress shirt as you try to flatten out the new wrinkles, “So… I’ll go and ring this guy up. And… and I’ll meet you out front?” You gulp loudly, wincing at the sheer volume of it and Eddie grins at you evidently amused.

“Sounds great. Just gotta scrub my hands and I’ll see you out there, Pretty girl.”

Eddie watches as you disappear from his view, he even strains his neck to try and catch a final glimpse of your ass as he desperately fights to calm his raging heart.

He feels all giddy on the inside. Soft and gooey like a chocolate brownie; only you have been able to make him feel that way. Eddie had a few notches in his belt, he slept his way through high school with chicks who kept him a secret but you… you knew you would flaunt him like he was a rare jewel. The last 7 months of your employment made you realise how drawn you were to the metal head. Eddie was precious to you.

And today… today you were going to tell him.

-

You skip alongside Eddie, your heels dragging along the pavement. You always wanted to look presentable and professional for the business, but these heels were killing your feet.

“You alright there, Love?” Eddie chuckles, his eyes flicking between your arched feet and your pain stricken face.

“Hmm? Oh! Yeah— I’m fine! These shoes are just kicking my ass.” You stop for a moment, sighing a quick breath of relief as the pressure eases from your feet and Eddie comes to stand in front of you. His lips curve upward into a grin and his eyes glitch with mischief.

“I can carry you? And you can take the shoes off?” You watch the muscles in his arms flex as he crosses them over his meaty chest and your jaw loosens on its hinges for a moment.

He wanted to carry you?

“Don’t be silly! I can muscle through this! Women have been doing this for centuries.” You snort a laugh, attempting to walk by his massive physique but Eddie’s large hand takes a hold of yours and in one swift and fluid like motion he is carrying you in his arms toward the small sandwich shop that is just out of view at the end of the street.

“Eddie!” You squeal, half laughing and half horrified. Your cheeks are set alight as your arms instinctively wrap around his neck tightly, clutching onto him for dear life out of fear of falling.

“Relax, I’m not gonna drop you.” You had never been this close to him before. You could see every freckle on his nose, every stroke of black oil and grease on his cheeks, every sprinkle and burst of light amber in his usually abysmal black eyes. The thickness of his eyelashes and his eyebrows and the pink plumpness of his lips.

You could study him for hours. You could hang a portrait of him in an art gallery— and yet it would pale in comparison to the true thing. Eddie Munson was crafted carefully by Aphrodite herself. He was utter perfection. And you wanted to kiss him so bad.

“Like what you see, Princess?” He smirks at you devilishly, his dark hues shift every few seconds between your gawking expression and the footpath ahead.

“What if I did?” Bold. Even for you, and it was amusing to watch Eddie’s confident mask fumble.

“Then I would have to agree that I also like what I see…” He stops walking, his eyes solely focused on you now and you shift under his gaze— wiggling in Eddie’s buff arms.

“You do?” You can’t help that his confession catches you off guard. You knew Eddie enjoyed your presence, it was evident in the way he would always make excuses to come through to the front and talk to you. Eddie never usually had cause to be at the front desk unless it was to hand a customer their car keys back— but he always found a way to weasel his way through.

‘Have you got a pen I can borrow?’ There was always one tucked behind his ear.

‘Did I leave any tools through here? I’m missing my screwdriver…’ He had plenty to spare.

‘Do you need any help with anything?’ He was hopeless when it came to schedules.

‘Hey, is there any cold ones in the fridge today?’ He knew there was.

‘You got the time, Sweet girl?’ He wore a watch of his own.

He knew how to make you smile and he did it continuously every single day with his perky can-do attitude and his admirable personality. Eddie Munson checked all of your boyfriend boxes. He’s good with his hands, not afraid to get down and dirty, he is scarily strong and stupidly handsome. If it weren’t deemed inappropriate you would worship the ground his work boots walked on.

“Don’t act so surprised— I haven’t been so discreet with what I think of you, Sweetheart.” He was right, but you also couldn’t fully believe him. Eddie Munson thought you were attractive? It made you wanna laugh.

“Y’know… I’m not feeling too hungry anymore,” There’s a glint of desire that shimmers in Eddie’s dark eyes and you match his lustful enthusiasm, “What’d ya say we head back? I wanna… show you something…”

And by ‘show you something’ he meant that he wanted you to see the back of your skull as your eyes roll from the feeling of him pumping inside of you.

“Let’s go… let’s go now!” You don’t care how desperate you sound as Eddie turns on his heels and flees back toward Tucker’s. You are a giggling mess in Eddie’s arms and he chuckles warmly alongside you. You both have at least 10 minutes left of your lunch break as you burst back into the office and the next customer is due soon so this will have to be somewhat quick…

-

You wish you could pinch yourself to ensure you weren’t dreaming but your hands were too busy snaking through the thick fluffy curls of Eddie’s hair. It doesn’t take much effort for his wet tongue to dominate yours in a passionate and needy kiss.

His strong fingertips grip the soft flesh of your hips and his hands are like a powerful vice as he clings to you hungrily, “Can I touch you?” He asks between laboured breaths and you nod with a sweet hum. You can feel the swell of his cock pressing against you and you couldn’t think of anything you want more than to have his hands roaming your body.

“Fuck— you’re so fucking beautiful.” His thumb traces the line of your jaw, settling on your chin where he demands that your eyes meet his, “Wanna fuck you so bad, but I don’t think we have time today, Sweet girl.”

You pout out your bottom lip and Eddie chuckles darkly at the sight, “Think my fingers will do, hmm?” He cocks a brow, his rough finger tips dance up the length of your inner thigh before he is clasping his hand over the mound of your underwear. He sucks in a deep breath at the contact, struggling to control the raging storm of his hormones, “I’ve wanted this for so long, you have no idea.”

“Me too.” You gasp as Eddie’s fingers start rubbing tedious and teasing circles over your clothed clit, eliciting soft breathy moans from you.

“You’re gorgeous and your moans are pretty too— how lucky can a guy get?” You whine and swirl your hips down to meet Eddie’s movements, your body craving more of his touch and the filthy man doesn’t hesitate to slip his fingers past the lace of your panties.

Warm skin touching skin has your mind reeling with sin, “Getting impatient?” Eddie clicks his tongue, his free hand coming to curl around your neck. You welcome the action and your vision shifts as Eddie’s touch tightens on either side of your throat, “Tell me how good it feels, Baby.”

He punctuates his words by thrusting two of his long slender fingers inside of your aching slick hole and you release a dampened moan as your eyes flutter closed in ecstasy.

“Feels so good…” Your voice is a quiet whimper and Eddie shakes his head disapprovingly, his fingers curling inside of you and thrusting quicker and harder.

“Couldn’t hear you, Love…” His lips pepper kisses along your face until his mouth rests at the curve of your ear, “Speak up, Pretty girl.”

You feel as though you could cry at how good the tattooed brunette was making you feel. You hadn’t experienced anything quite like it before; all of this praise, the choking and the dominance. It felt good to let everything go— to give yourself to him.

“So good, Eddie! Feels so so good!” You’re a babbling, moaning mess beneath Eddie’s touch but you are beyond the point of caring as your euphoric release rushes toward you. Each skilled pump of Eddie’s decorated fingers leaves your walls clenching and your thighs quivering beneath you.

A wolfish growl rumbles deep within Eddie’s throat and he forces his knee between your thighs, leveraging you upright and keeping your back pressed against the brick wall.

“Gonna cum for me, Angel? Gonna cum around my fingers?” His pace quickens, if that were even possible and your eyes roll to the back of your head as your front teeth pierce your bottom lip, gnawing and nibbling at the plump skin like a desperate bunny.

You nod your head, but Eddie isn’t having any of it, “Words!” His fingers grab your face roughly and you open your lips in a pant, moaning greedily.

“Yes! Yes, I’m gonna cum! Please— fuck!” His chocolate eyes look fiercely into yours, dark and domineering; controlling.

Your orgasm shakes your body from the top to the bottom and you let out a noise that can only be described as a erotic scream and in a fit of slight panic Eddie pushes his hand flush against your mouth as you continue to ride out your high on his fingers.

“Shhh… gonna get us caught.” He offers you an egotistic toothy grin and your chest rises and falls with every intense breath you take in through your nose.

Eddie’s eyes flicker to the watch on his wrist, his eyebrows knitting in thought, “Looks like our lunch break is over…” He removes his hand slowly from your reddened and slightly swollen mouth, “Maybe we can continue this later…” a smirk never wavering from his face as he says, “Same time tomorrow, Princess?”

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae @sidthedollface2 @kellsck @your-nightmaredoll

[ashwhowrites]

Hi there! I love your work, I was wondering if I could request a virgin Eddie who’s a lil bit of a perv who is in love with his best friend (the reader) and when she tells him she likes him and they eventually have sex Eddie’s all nervous. Maybe starting off a lil angsty and then fluff?? Thank you!!

I LOVE perv eddie.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting ❤️

⚠️Smut!

His first time

Eddie was a basic man who had basic needs. He enjoyed adult magazines, he wouldn't deny it. He saved up to buy the newest issues, pleasuring himself to all the different women and their breasts.

He enjoyed checking the girls out, loved watching the cheerleaders perform and sex scenes in movies. But he got bored of the same things.

He blasted music through his speakers as he tried to focus on making himself cum. But he was getting frustrated as nothing seemed to get him there. He tossed the magazine on the floor, closing his eyes as he tried to picture the cheerleaders from before.

His hand moved fast on his cock as he clenched his eyes. His body was covered in sweat and his body was cramping from how hard he was trying to cum. He tried to imagine the scene like he was there again.

He sat next to his best friend, Y/N, as the cheerleaders warmed up. Their long legs stretched out as they bent over. Eddie noticeably checked them out, along with every boy in the crowd.

The bleachers were uncomfortable as Y/N tried to shift. The popcorn in her hand spilled as she did, landed right at Eddie's feet.

"Oh fuck!" She groaned. It caught Eddie's attention, before he could ask, she was reaching down to grab the pieces. Her body was right between his legs. He felt his breath get caught in his throat as her hand rested on his knee to balance herself. Her head between his thighs.

Eddie moaned as he felt his body melting into the mattress. Finally relaxing enough for him to feel true pleasure as he jerked himself off.

He looked down, enjoying the way her shirt dipped and he could see the top of her breasts.

Eddie sighed in pleasure as cum shot out of his cock, painting his hand as he worked himself through it. His hair sticking to his sweaty body as he thanked God he was finally cumming.

Then he realized what made him cum.

His best friend.

~~~

Eddie felt a little bit ashamed about masturbating to his best friend, but not ashamed enough to stop doing it. She was behind the greatest orgasms he's ever felt and he couldn't give that up.

It had been months since he first did it, and now he didn't see any worthy of girl compared to her. He was captivated by her. He began falling for her.

Suddenly her smile made his stomach flutter. The way she laughed made him smile. He wanted to feel her skin against his. He was curious to know how her lips felt.

He wasn't the best with feelings so he didn't bother to tell her how he felt. Plus, there was no way she'd be into him. She was out of his league even as friends. He kept his feelings to himself, torturing himself every second he spent with her.

She was ranting about a teacher. Her mouth moved but Eddie heard silence. Her hands were waving around as she cussed but he was focused on the deep cut of her T-shirt.

He tried to keep his eyes on her face, but he couldn't help but look down at the small part of her bra that was showing. He tried not to whine when she crossed her arms, squishing her delicious breasts against each other.

Fuck he craved to stick his head right between them. Or his cock. He felt himself twitch at the thought. Oh, he definitely wanted to push his cock between her tits.

~

"Wanna play a game or chicken?" Steve asked Eddie as they swam around the neighborhood pool.

"Depends, who's on you and who's on me," Eddie said.

"I'll take Dustin," Steve said as Dustin jumped in. "YO, KID! GET ON MY SHOULDERS!"

Eddie looked around for a partner, a smile on his face as he swam to the edge. He propped his arms up on the concrete, whistling to gain her attention.

Y/N opened her eyes under her sunglasses, looking towards the pool from her spot on the chairs. Eddie was looking at her with a suggestive smile.

"Oh God, what?" She sighed. She pushed her glasses up on her head and sat up. Her day of tanning seemed to be cancelled.

"Be my partner and beat Steve's ass?" He asked, he had one eye scrunched as he looked up at her. The sun beamed right on him.

She knew she could never say no to Eddie. And truthfully, sitting on Eddie's broad shoulders sounded like a wet dream. She stood up and discarded her sunglasses. She quickly took off her shorts and Eddie clapped as she walked towards him.

He whistled as she began to walk into the water. She flicked him off as her body felt the cold water.

"Damn, always looking good in a swimsuit," he winked. She rolled her eyes, hoping the sun was the reason her skin heated up.

Eddie plunged under the water, letting her sit on his shoulders as he stood up. She loved the feeling of his arms holding down her legs. The way they were wrapped around her.

He loved every second of her legs wrapped around him. The feeling of her cunt on the back of his neck. He wanted more than anything to lay her on the concrete and turn around, dive his face in her cunt as he ate her out in front of everyone. He hoped the splashing of the water hid the growing erection in his swim shorts.

~

It was a Friday night and Eddie was getting ready for a party that Y/N was dragging him to. It wasn't something he wanted to do but he had a hard time looking at her and saying no. Plus, if he didn't go she'd still go and he wasn't in the mood to hear about how she got hit on all night.

She's had boyfriends before and they never had Eddie's approval. Which made much more sense now that he knew he was in love with her.

He shoved a few pre rolls in his pocket and ran out the door.

~

About an hour into the party, he lost her. They were outside where he could smoke freely, she went in to get a drink and hadn't come back out. He was getting slightly worried so he stood up from the grass and began walking towards the house.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned. He thought maybe it was her but another girl stood in front of him.

"Hi sorry, but I was wondering if you had any of what you were smoking left? Or even a cigarette?" The girl asked

Eddie wasn't sure who she was, digging into his pocket as he grabbed his cigarettes. "Can't share the good stuff, but I can offer this." He smiled as he passed one over.

She smiled and took it, "lighter?" She put the cigarette between her lips, Eddie flicked his lighter the flame coming to life as he lit the end of the cigarette. She inhaled the smoke. She sighed from the taste. "Thank you. I needed this."

"Not a problem," he smiled. He prepared to turn around and leave but she spoke up again.

"Are you here alone?" She asked

Eddie was a little confused. It felt like she was hitting on him. "Uh no, my friend is inside getting drinks. Which is where I'm heading because it's been like an hour," he said as he checked his watch.

"Well if you don't find your friend, come find me," she winked as she turned around and walked off. The cigarette smoke following her. Eddie was stunned, he barely got hit on.

"Sorry!" Y/N said as she appeared in front of him. "You can't imagine how busy that kitchen is," she noticed the weird look on his face as she handed his drink over.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just think that girl over there was flirting with me," he said as he nodded his head in her direction. Y/N felt her stomach turn as she followed his head. She didn't like knowing someone was showing interest in him. She felt jealous as she spotted the girl smoking a few feet away.

"Oh! Well...she's cute, I guess," Y/N shrugged as she looked back at him. She didn't like how his eyes were still on the girl. "Did you, um, want to talk to her?" She cursed herself for asking. For giving him the option because she didn't want him to.

"Should I? I'm not sure how to talk to girls," Eddie said nervously. He took a swig from his red cup as the alcohol burned down his throat.

"You talk to me," Y/N said, once again not sure why she was trying to help.

"Yeah but that's different. You aren't into me and looking for like... something," he coughed, feeling uncomfortable at the idea.

Y/N figured this was the chance to say something. She could correct him, tell him she was into him and she wanted something with him. She opened her mouth, weight on her chest.

"Eddie, loo-"

"I'm going to do it. Hold this for me," he said as he handed her the cup. He wiped his hands on his jeans and took a few deep breaths. She frowned as he walked away, heading to the pretty girl.

So much for telling him how she felt, she thought. She carried their drinks towards the small bench in the backyard. She wasn't sure if she should watch or stare off into space. She tried to drink away the lump in her throat. Hoping the alcohol would kill all the shit she felt inside.

She finished off her drink, her eyes flicking to where he was. He was smiling as the girl laughed, shoving his arm. She quickly looked away, the sight alone hurt her more than she would like to admit. She chugged his drink, getting up as she went to fill the cups again. Fuck, she needed many drinks to survive this.

She debated going back outside, but figured inside was safer. The air was thick as there wasn't much room to walk around. She escaped to the front yard, letting herself sit on the grass.

She knew she should have said something sooner. Now he was probably going to come ask to bring the girl home. And Y/N wanted to cry at the thought.

She wasn't sure how long she was out there, but she knew it had to be over an hour. At this point she was sad and alone. She was ready to go home and cry herself to sleep. She stood up and dusted off her clothes. She prep talked herself as she walked to the backyard.

She tried to blink away tears as he was still with the girl, much closer than before. Maybe she was jealous, or maybe she was tired, but she didn't find a problem with walking right up to them.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I want to go home," she said. Her tone was serious and it worried Eddie as he looked at her.

"Are you okay?" He asked

"Yeah, just not feeling well," she wasn't fully lying. She did feel like she could puke right at their feet as their fingers were inches away from each other.

"Yeah, here are the keys. I'll be there in like a minute?"

She nodded as she grabbed the keys. Completely ignoring the girl as she began her walk to the van. She made it down the street when Eddie ran after her, throwing his arm over her shoulder as he panted.

"Sure you're okay? Need to get water or something?"

"Yeah, I'm fine Eddie," she softly smiled. She handed him the keys as they arrived where he parked. They climbed in but Eddie wasn't making any moves to drive off.

"What's going on?" He asked as he looked over at her. She looked straight ahead.

"I said I'm fine, can we please go home?"

Eddie sighed and started up the van, driving off.

The ride was silent. Y/N spent the whole drive forcing her tears to stay in her eyes. And Eddie kept glancing her way.

~

They entered his empty trailer, still silent as she worked her way into his bedroom. He took off his jacket and threw it somewhere on the floor. He walked to his room, freezing as she had her back to him as she unclipped her bra. He gazed at the naked skin, wanting her so badly to turn around. But one of his T-shirts was tossed on. She collected her clothes and put them in a small pile. Turning around, jumping as Eddie stood here.

"Jesus. You move like a mouse," she laughed. But Eddie's face was hard to read as he looked at her. She didn't say anything, just threw herself on his bed. She sighed in relaxation as she cuddled into his pillows.

Eddie removed his shirt, unaware of her watching eyes as he moved into the bathroom.

She tried to calm down her racing heart as he changed. She hoped she could avoid talking but she had a feeling he still didn't believe her.

A few seconds later he walked out, only in boxers. She chewed on her bottom lip as he joined her in bed. The small lamp beside him was the only form of light.

They stared at each other, both softly memorizing each other's faces. "You sure you're okay?" He whispered, his hand moving to softly rub her hip. She melted into his touch.

"Did you like her?" She whispered. Her voice horse as she tried not to cry.

"Not really," he admitted honestly. He continued to rub her hip as he shifted closer. His face right in front of her as he frowned. "Is that what this is about?"

She closed her eyes as she had to face it. She opened her eyes, Eddie was quick to wipe away the tears that began to fall. "Oh baby," he whispered as he pulled her into him.

Her nose was pressed against his.

"You know how you said I wasn't into you so talking to me was different?"

He nodded, thumb rubbing her cheek.

"I do like you," she whispered. She hoped he didn't hear it, but that was impossible as there wasn't any space between them. "I wanted to tell you but you know," she sniffled.

"You do know that if I knew, no way in hell I would have bothered with her," he admitted. She felt herself smile.

"Yeah?"

"You don't know how long I've been thinking about you," he whispered. His heart raced as she smiled. He couldn't believe it after all this time, she liked him.

Her smile slowly fell as she looked at his lips. She didn't say anything as she leaned in and pressed her lips against his. He gladly kissed her back, rolling on his back as she rolled on top of him. He moved his hands on her back as her tongue slipped in his mouth.

He whined at how incredible her lips and tongue felt. The feeling of her hands moving into his hair made him clench. His mind already raced with dirty images of them, his cock growing under her as he couldn't fight them off.

She could feel his cock growing hard underneath her, pride in her chest as her kiss seemed to do enough to drive him insane. It did the same to her, she didn't want to wait for anything. She wanted him to fuck her and kill the tension she always felt with him.

She rolled her hips against him, moaning into his mouth as his cock rubbed against her thin panties.

She pulled away for air, moving her lips to his neck. He shivered as she sucked on his skin. He didn't know what any of this felt like, but damn it felt good coming from her. He didn't care how noticeable her marks would be, he wanted to be covered.

His mind was clouded with pleasure as she kept rocking against his cock. Barely noticing her hands moving to strip off her shirt.

Wait, was this happening? Right now? He thought. His cock twitched seeing her bare tits. He stared in awe as his hands dropped to her hips.

She patiently waited for him to touch her, but he quite literally looked like a deer in headlights.

"Eds?" She asked

He looked into her eyes and she could see the nerves in his eyes.

"Shit! I'm sorry," she said as she climbed off his lap. Her face burned with embarrassment as she covered herself with his blanket. She closed her eyes as she wished to disappear.

"No, it's okay!" He reassured her. He sat up.

"We don't have to do any of that. I got way too caught up" she uncomfortably laughed. She felt like an idiot.

"I want to. Fuck, I want to so bad. I just have no idea what I'm doing," he admitted. She opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Have you ever done it before?" She asked, no judgement in her eyes.

"No," he said quickly, "but I promise I know I want to. And I'm ready right now," he rushed out. He was so desperate as his cock throbbed under the sheets. He was far too gone to ignore it and move on.

"Are you sure? I'm fine with just going to bed," she offered.

"I want you," he confirmed, leaning in as he pressed his lips against hers. She gladly accepted the kiss, climbing back on his lap.

She pulled away. "I'll go slow, okay?"

He nodded, just wishing she'd sink down on him already.

"Do you have a condom?" She asked. He quickly turned to his nightstand, yanking it open. She eyed the amount of condoms scattered around and a pair of handcuffs. "I hope you weren't planning on using all of those immediately."

Eddie blushed as he handed her the wrapper, and shut the drawer. "I wanted to be prepared."

"And the handcuffs?" She teased as she tore the package open. He watched as she moved down his body, hands seconds away from touching him.

"To experiment," he said in a heavy breath. His eyes locked on her hands as she began to put the condom on him. He shivered as she rolled it on, the single touch was better than anything he felt by himself.

She climbed up his body and put her face up against his. "Don't think you'll ever do this with someone else, got it?"

He moaned at her possessive words, loving the heat behind her eyes. He gladly would submit to her anytime she wanted him.

She smiled at his reaction, moving her body to hover over his cock. His submissive eyes were staring, becoming glossy as he whined for her to do something.

She softly gripped his cock, slowly sinking herself down on him. He let out a loud long moan as he gripped her hips. She was so warm. She gave herself a second to adjust to his size, planting her hands on his chest as she began to roll her hips.

His head smacked his headboard with a thunk as he threw his head back. Her wrapped around him easily became the best thing he ever felt.

He pried his eyes open so he could watch her. She looked angelic on top of him. The way her tits moved, her hair, her scrunched eyes and mouth open with moans. He wanted to feel more of her, sitting up straight as his unrehearsed hands moved to her chest.

He froze before he touched her. His eyes look up to her for answers. She opened her eyes when she felt him moving. She looked down at his puppy eyes. She tried not to speak on how fucking adorable he looked.

She slowed down her hips as she pressed her forehead against his. With her lips being that close, he didn't second think of his movements as he kissed her. She moved her hands to wrap around his neck, deepening this kiss. She waited until he wanted to pull away, sitting still on him.

He pulled back, his hands still on her chest. "May I?"

She nodded, going back to moving on his cock. "Yeah, baby. Touch me."

He growled at her words. His eager hands massaged her breasts, making her arch into him. He moaned at how they felt in his hands, so warm, and full. He hated how close he was, wanting this to never stop.

Y/N changed her pace as she went faster. He felt incredible inside of her. He was a perfect fit and she loved the way he kissed and touched her.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he moaned. His brain only focused on how amazing the build up was, and how he never felt anything like it. He wrapped his arms around her and flipped them over. He didn't know how but he fucked himself into her, doing something right as she moaned out.

He fucked her, head dropping into her sweaty neck as he felt his final thrusts shake. He panted into her neck, she greedily wrapped her legs around his waist to shove him deeper inside her.

"That's it, Eddie," she praised. He gave his final thrusts as he came inside the condom. His orgasm ran through his whole body, he felt it everywhere.

He pulled out of her, body feeling like jelly. "Holy fuck," he chuckled out of breath. "That was the best thing I've ever felt."

Y/N squirmed as he shifted, his cock still inside of her. He wanted to continue but the more he moved, it began to hurt.

"Pull out, Eddie. It's okay," she smiled. He nodded and pulled out, already missing how she felt around him.

"But you didn't cum," he frowned.

"That's okay! This was about you," she said as she rubbed his cheek. But he wasn't having it. No way he was leaving her with nothing.

He wasn't sure what to do, but he's seen enough movies to have a slight idea. His hand skimmed down her body, sliding two fingers inside of her.

She gasped as his long fingers moved inside of her. She moved her hand down to her clit but Eddie slapped it away. He was determined to do it all on his own.

He added a third finger as he used his other hand to circle her clit. She softly put her hand over his to show him how. He enjoyed the way her breathing increased and she began to moan more. He kept a steady pace with his fingers on her clit, and fucking her as fast as his fingers would allow.

"Fuck that's it, don't change anything," she said, throwing her head back as she moved herself on his fingers to feel him deeper.

"Yes ma'am,"

Her eyes rolled in the back of her head from the name, feeling loved by the way his eyes watched her. And how badly he wanted to make her cum.

She focused on her orgasm as it began building. Her hands stretched out to grip his shoulders as she began to shake.

"Gonna cum," she warned, immediately soaking his fingers as she came.

Eddie continued, loving the sounds of her wet cunt, until she pushed his hands away.

He cleaned them both up before he crawled to lay next to her.

"I love you," he whispered as he cupped her cheek. He left a small kiss to her lips.

"I love you, too"

[keeryhours]

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Hellfire was going over…again. It often did, but it had been nearly an hour over schedule today, and you were bored out of your mind. Usually you would meet at the drama room at 7, when Hellfire was supposed to be over, and you’d ride home with Eddie. It was 8 now and you could still hear the raucous laughter and cheers from the room.

Time ticked by, and you decided to let yourself in. Eddie glanced up from the table as you walked into the room, flashing you a small grin before he was right back in character. It was fascinating to watch him DM - and kind of hot.

The game ended with the guys beating Eddie’s sadistic campaign - the room erupted in cheers as Gareth, Jeff, Grant, Dustin, Mike, and Lucas celebrated. Eddie sat back with an appraising grin - he was proud of the ruthless campaigns he came up with, but nothing was better than watching his friends just narrowly succeed in his world.

The guys all cleared out, wishing you a goodnight. You helped Eddie pick up his stuff, taking your time as you admired the little figures on the table.

“Good game tonight?” you asked Eddie, knowing it was.

“Incredible game,” he said, like he was reliving it in his head. “I can’t believe they didn’t all die.”

You laughed. “Did you go easy on them?”

“Don’t insult me,” he said, giving you a look. “I would never.”

“Took you guys forever tonight,” you said, leaning against the table. Eddie looked at you from over his books.

“It was an important game,” he said simply.

“More important than spending time with me?” you teased, walking up close to him, your fingertips dancing on his chest.

“Maybe,” he said, a smile spreading across his lips.

“Maybe?” You pretended to be offended. “Ouch.”

“Maybe I could make it up to you,” he said, taking a step forward and closing the distance between your bodies. It pressed your back up against the table, trapping you between them.

“Maybe you should,” you said, his lips hovering inches from your own.

He moved forward and pressed his lips to yours. You were absorbed into the kiss immediately, arms sliding around Eddie’s neck and a little moan spilling from your lips. Eddie squeezed your hips, grinding into you.

“So hard right now,” he mumbled, and he was definitely telling the truth. You could feel his erection through his tight jeans, pressing against your core through your own jeans. There were too many layers between you - you needed to feel more of him.

Your hands reached for his belt buckle, and Eddie reluctantly pulled back from your lips, your lower lip caught between his teeth as he backed up. “Really? Right here?”

“Why not?” Your voice was breathy from his kisses. “We’re alone?”

“Yeah, but someone could walk in…”

“That won’t happen. Everyone’s gone home. It’s just us.” You looped your fingers through his belt loops and pulled him closer. “You’re so sexy, Eddie.”

Eddie blushed. “That’s you.”

He lowered his head and captured your lips in another kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You pressed your tongue against his, kissing passionately, your stomach buzzing with butterflies. His kisses never affected you any less than the first time.

His hands slid down your sides and around to cup your ass, squeezing it hard. You moaned again, clit throbbing between your legs, soaking wet and needing him.

“Gonna fuck you right here,” he muttered against your lips. “Gonna get these clothes off and fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, right here in school.”

You whimpered, his dirty words making your knees weak. He was practically holding you up, leaning you against the table so you wouldn’t collapse. It was getting to be too much, you clung to Eddie tightly, feeling like you’d drift away if you let go.

You undid his belt, fingers working on his button and zipper while he pulled your shirt over your head. You got his pants undone and shoved them down to his thighs, his boxers the only thing covering his raging hard on at this point. He groaned as it brushed against you.

“So big, Eddie,” you cooed, wrapping your hand around his clothed cock and drawing a moan from his pretty lips.

“Need it inside you, now,” he grunted, making quick work of undoing your jeans and pulling them down your legs, tossing them to the ground. He pulled you up and flipped you over so you were bent over the table. His hands caressed your ass, admiring the view in your red lace panties. The perfect shape of your ass was only enhanced by the way the material of your panties hugged your shape. Eddie was practically drooling at the sight. “Need it,” he grunted again.

He pushed your panties to the side, swiping his finger through your folds to collect your wetness. He brought it up to his lips, sucking it clean with a moan. “Always so sweet, baby.”

“Quit teasing,” you whined.

“Greedy slut,” he hissed. “Desperate for cock.”

He pressed his tip against your entrance then, and before you could do or say anything he was pushing inside. You let out a little “Ah!” as he filled you so abruptly, sinking his full length into your cunt.

“Fuuuck yeah,” Eddie said. “Takin’ it so well. Just like a good little whore. Bent over the table for me, where anyone could walk in on us - but she was too desperate to wait, wasn’t she, sweetheart?”

You whined, a weak “Mmhmm,” which satisfied Eddie. He pounded into you ruthlessly, grabbing your hips and pulling you back into his thrusts as if you might try to escape. Your mind was spinning as you were pushed into the table again and again, tits pressed against the game below you. Eddie would surely be thinking about this every D&D game for the foreseeable future.

“God, what a perfect body,” Eddie mused, looking at you spread all out for him, all for him. “Can’t believe it’s mine. Can’t believe I get to fuck you, get to put my thick cock in your little pussy. Any time I want.”

While Eddie was thinking out loud to himself, you were quickly coming undone around him. You could feel every ridge and vein of his cock, every inch of his massive length. He was pressing right into your bundle of nerves with every thrust, and you weren’t sure how much longer you were gonna last.

“Such a pretty little pussy,” he continued. “So tight and hot and wet. Perfect for my cock. Fuck- feels so good, baby.”

Eddie’s pace increased in speed, fucking into your cunt so hard the table was shaking beneath you, scraping against the floor. His figurines shook and fell off the table, clattering to the floor. Eddie didn’t care. All he cared about was how deep he was inside you, how deeply he was going to fill you.

“Eddie- Eddie, Eddie, Eddie!” you cried, not caring if there was anyone else still in the school who might hear you. Let them. Let them know how the Freak fucks his girl.

“Filthy cunt,” he said just before he slapped your ass hard. “So desperate and needy. I can feel you practically suckin’ me in. Desperate to keep me inside you. Don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna fill you up real good.”

The sounds of your skin meeting became louder, filling the quiet room. He was so deep in you you could feel his balls pressed tight against your ass with every movement. His thrusts were getting tighter and shallow, just quick rutting into you as he chased his high. His eyes were rolling back, fingers tightening on your hips, diving into you with frantic passion.

“Cum,” he gasped out. “Need you to cum.”

You weren’t far. A couple more ramming thrusts to your bundle of nerves and you were falling over the edge, crashing violently, crying out Eddie’s name again and again as lights exploded behind your vision, your ears ringing.

“Oh, shit!” Eddie thrusted in hard one more time and then he was spilling into you, pumping so much cum into your tight pussy that it dripped out from around his shaft, creating a sight that had Eddie groaning, cumming just a bit more into you.

When he pulled out, some of his cum slipped out of you. He dropped to his knees, making you gasp as you felt his tongue on your tired and sore pussy, cleaning you up. He stood up and pressed his lips to yours, letting you taste the mixture of the two of you.

Eddie gave your ass one final slap, fixing your panties to keep the rest of his cum inside and tossing you back your jeans. You both got dressed, looking at each other and giggling like you couldn’t believe what you’d just done.

There was a knock at the door - you both froze. The door slowly opened, revealing Gareth, who looked absolutely mortified. “Just…forgot my book…” he said, walking inside and picking up his book, holding it up to show you both before nearly sprinting back to the door. “Uh…see you guys tomorrow.”

Eddie froze. “How much did you hear?” he called after his friend.

“All of it, unfortunately!”

tag list

@missjadesfics @swiftieintheupsidedown @fandom-princess-forevermore @ali-r3n @playboysweetie @losingmygrasponreality @samslvrgirl @ratsematary @cheesesandwichsanto @rainybloo28 @angxlg0dz @mopeymopeymouse @strangerthing93 @bellalillyrose @awkward00noodle @hannahmassey30 @xplrnowornever @thestrals-and-firewiskey @badasspizzalover @parodsal000 @charmed-asylum @kyber4crystal @jeangeniex @fearlessreid

divider by sister-lucifer

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

This piece contains 18+ content

Pairing Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary Eddie’s had a long day, but being with you is enough to turn even the worst days into something sweeter [fluff, artsy reader, mild hurt/comfort, smut, 3.2k]

A/N This is some of my favorite smut I've written. Still very much stuck on him.

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

It’s much quieter in your neighborhood than it is in Forest Hills. No muffled music or raised voices carry from the houses around the cul-de-sac. Tired men don’t tinker on rusty cars. Unleashed dogs don’t sniff their way through ailing yards that aren’t their own. The only signs of life are cars in driveways and lamplight through windows. The golden sun hangs low in the darkening sky.

Eddie makes a final attempt to exhale the weight of the day away before he presses your doorbell. Not even a second later, the lock clicks and the door swings open.

The smile you offer has him convinced that every butterfly he’s ever seen now exists within the confines of his stomach. It’s as if familiarity and radiance itself exist in the way your lips lift upwards to reveal the glint of your teeth.

“I heard you pull up,” you say. “In case you were wondering why I opened the door in two seconds…” you trail off when you realize you don’t sound as convincing as you want. 

Eddie smiles with a fond shake of his head. The action causes more of his curls fall onto his shoulders. He’d never make fun of you for being eager to see him. Especially when half the people in Hawkins care more about his skills beneath the hood than him as a person.

“Sorry I’m later than I said I’d be,” he says as you usher him inside. “Wanted to grab a shower before I came over.” 

“Didn’t you hear?” Eddie's brow furrows innocently at your question. “I love the smell of motor oil.” 

He huffs out a chuckle that makes you bite your lower lip to keep from grinning like a fool. Then he laughs again, deeper this time, like a funny thought has struck him. But he takes a step closer, cups your cheek, and kisses you. His lips are slow and easy against your own.

When he pulls away, you catch the weariness in his eyes, softened by gratitude as he takes you in. He could’ve gone home. He could’ve turned in for the night. But he wanted to see you too. He needed to see you. 

“Hey,” you say softly. “Everything okay?” 

You reach out to tuck his hair behind his ears, and he lets you. Any other time, he’d shake it back loose with a playful smirk. Tonight he doesn’t. 

He catches your hand as you pull away, and dots a few kisses over your knuckles. Work and playing guitar have calloused his palms. His steel rings glint in the low light of the foyer. 

“I’m okay,” he says into your skin. You remain quiet in hopes that it’ll coax more out of him. “Long day at the shop.” 

You hum. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. Don’t be. 

“Got you something,” he remembers. "Been holding onto it for a couple days." He realizes he’s empty-handed.

“Shit. I left it in the van.” 

You chuckle as he presses another quick kiss to the back of your hand before he lets go and pulls away. 

When Eddie comes back inside, you’re on the living room couch with one leg tucked beneath you. The TV plays low reruns of I Love Lucy, but you grant him all your attention as he settles beside you. Before you have the chance to ask what’s in the brown paper bag, he pulls out a nice set of drawing pencils and a leather-bound sketchbook. 

Your mouth falls open as he passes them over to you, his expression quietly hopeful. Big brown eyes eager for your reaction. 

“Eddie…” 

“You filled your last sketchbook. And you’ve been needing some new pencils." He rests his forearms on his thighs and licks his lips. "Knew you’d hold off on getting them for yourself so I figured..." 

A smile finally breaks across your face.

“These are the fancy kind too," you note as you look over the pencils. "Thank you so much, baby. Really.” He shrugs like it's no big deal even as he bites back the proud quirk of his lips. It was a privilege to be able to do little things like this when he could.

The leather of the sketchbook is smooth as you flip open the cover to run your fingers over the crisp, fragrant pages. 

When you meet his eyes again, your gaze is soft and observant, like you have an idea. It feels like you're seeing straight into him. He's handsome. Long curls, kind eyes, plush lips. Even then, it's clear he still wears the remnants of the hours prior, though he masks it well.

“Maybe I can draw you," you propose with the quiet hope he’ll oblige. “To break everything in.

"All you've gotta do is sit back and relax. We can talk, watch some TV, eat my snacks." He smiles at that last part. 

After the frustrated customers he had to diffuse today, he can do that. Gladly so. 

•••

The warm lamplight and the glow of the TV cast soft shadows across Eddie's face. His long lashes appear heavy with the relaxed way he blinks at the screen. He’s sunk back into the cushions, legs spread just so, hands interlocked over his stomach, rising and falling with his breaths. An empty bowl of popcorn rests on the coffee table along with a hollow box of Jujyfruits. 

Five separate sketches of him now constitute the beginnings of your new sketchbook. He tilts his head to peer over at you when he no longer hears the familiar brush of graphite against paper.

The cushions shift as he straightens up and rubs his eyes with lazy fists. 

“All finished?” he asks, and you nod. “Can I see?” 

When you pass him the sketchbook, his eyes rove over the drawings with the attentiveness of a critic, but void of any harshness or critique. It’s more of an assessment, an appreciation. He pulls his lower lip between his teeth. Raises the book to get a better look at the hatching technique you used to shade the first sketch you completed. 

It’s a straight-on portrait that he’d faced you for. There’s a sense of ease about his gaze. A warmth paired with an underlying pensiveness. He knows he’s being studied but feels more seen than exposed. 

Except, Eddie's so much more than you’ll ever be able to confine to a couple sheets of paper. Charming in an awkward way, with one of the kindest hearts you’ve ever known. Loving him is as easy as blinking or breathing. So natural it feels innate. He feels your gaze as he studies the sketches.

When he redirects his attention to you, he offers one of his steady, slow-moving smiles that never fails to make your stomach flutter. 

“Always staring at me,” he accuses, too lighthearted to be mistaken for a complaint. 

In truth, you observed everyone and everything. But never with the same admiration allotted to Eddie. There were so many layers that you feared you wouldn’t have the time to unravel them all. You’d never wanted to know the inner workings of another person so intimately. 

After a lifetime of slipping through the cracks, it sure was nice to be seen in an unadulterated way by you. 

“Can’t help it,” you murmur.

Eddie tracks your movements as you grab one of the accent pillows and toss it to the floor at his feet. A second later, you drop down onto it. His breath catches when you place two gentle hands on his knees and spread his legs so you can better settle between them. 

"Hope your day's gotten a little better since you’ve been here," you murmur.

Eddie swallows. Sets your sketchbook aside with a jittery hand. 

“It has." His voice is thick as anticipation stirs within him. "As soon as I walked through the door.”

You hum as he squirms, hyperaware of your touch as your hands drift along his thighs. His head tips back when you palm him through the fabric of his jeans. Warmth ignites in his cheeks and melts to his torso as his pants tighten in the wake of his arousal. Along the thick column of his throat, his Adam’s apple bobs with another swallow.

It hadn’t even taken much. 

His legs fall open wider, like a gate, when you begin to unbuckle his belt. The metal hardware clinks with your movements, breaking the hush between you. You pop the button, drag the zipper down. 

“Wanna help me get these off?” A sweet smile plays on your lips as you blink up at him. 

Eager, Eddie lifts his hips, and you help him shuck down his pants and underwear. There's a tent in the front of his boxers when you get to them, and he shifts with the new exposure by the time everything pools at his socked feet. 

Featherlight, your fingertips ghost toward the apex of his thighs, his milky skin dusted with sparse hair. His muscles twitch at the ticklish sensation, and he braces for the inevitable.

Except your touch flutters past where he aches. Bypasses where he strains toward his stomach. Instead, your hands sweep over his hips. Slip beneath the hem of his shirt to scratch along the low part of his stomach where a thin, dark trail of hair leads down to his need. 

His chest deflates on a slow, bated breath. You hide your coy smile in the inside of his thigh in the form of a kiss. Right over the small smiley face inked into his skin. Eddie huffs in flustered amusement. 

“This is—” 

“One of your favorite tattoos of mine,” he finishes with flushed cheeks. 

You grin in feigned surprise. “How’d you know?” You trace your nails back down to his quivering thighs. 

His arousal kicks up when you grant him the gentle brush of your fingertips over the rounded fullness that rests heavily between his legs.

“Sweetheart,” he finally sighs, dark eyes molten when they find yours. 

“Teddy,” you coo back. 

He doesn’t have time to brace when you begin to pepper an alternating line of kisses up his thighs until your lips find the part of him that needs you the most. 

His breath hitches. “Baby—”

A pleasured shudder rolls through him as you kiss up the elegant curve of the thick vein along his underside. You follow the path of his need all the way to the rosy tip, where a wet, gleaming pearl beads in a testament to his want. You suckle it away. Savor it.

Eddie's eyes flutter shut, body taut as you spit over him and wrap a secure hand around his base. The slick heat of your palm makes his hips stutter as you begin to pull upward in a steady tug. At the top, you circle your thumb around the mushroom tip. You dedicate another swipe of your thumb to a slow trace along his slit. 

Eddie is warm and rigid in your hold, beautifully at your mercy, and he knows it. Doesn't mind it. The full hum in his throat unravels into a low, shameless moan when his lips part. 

“Yeah, baby?” you meet his gaze and hold it. Heat pools between your legs. “You feelin’ good?” 

Eddie reaches out to stroke his thumb across your cheek. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Please don’t stop.” 

You wouldn’t dream of it.

As you continue your languid strokes, you mouth at his inner thighs. Kisses, nibbles, licks. He’s so wound up that all of it gets to him. Pleasure tugs low in his gut with a radiance he can feel in his fingertips, his toes. 

With a practiced gentleness, your free hand lowers to massage the velvet weight of him that you’ve neglected. A rugged sound escapes him as he writhes. Even more so when you move to lap him again, this time taking him halfway and working what's left over with your hand. 

You pull away to trace your lips along his shaft, mindful of every inch and the tell-tale shudder that startles through him. You peer up through your lashes to find desperation etched across his features. 

He cups your cheek to get you to pause. “C’mere, sweetheart,” he insists. "Wanna feel you—lemme feel you.” 

You clench around nothing as he encourages you upwards. 

After you shuffle to your feet, you push your lounge shorts down, followed by your panties. Eddie strokes himself, gaze heavy-lidded as he watches. 

No sooner do you move forward to straddle his lap, standing on your knees with your hands braced on his shoulders. His hands find your hips, but one drifts lower in a curious glide between your parted legs. He graces through your slick folds, then brushes his thumb over your swollen bundle of nerves. He’s gauging if you’re ready for him, but you nearly crumble forward at his thoughtful touch. 

“So sensitive,” he notes lightly. A flicker of amusement dances in his eyes as they find yours. 

“Because of you.” You pout as you reach down and align him at your entrance. 

He catches at your slick warmth and whispers a string of curses. It shouldn’t already be this good. You shouldn’t already be this ready. But both things are true because the two of you have somehow stumbled into your own little perfect world. Both his hands find your hips again as you ease yourself down to welcome him in. Inch by slow inch, every vein and ridge. 

You don’t realize you’re whining until you’ve sunken to accommodate all of him. Eddie runs a soothing hand up your back as you lean forward into his chest in an encompassing haze of fullness. Already, he’s touching that devastating part of you that’s so thoughtfully tucked away. He’s the only one who’s been able to reach it. To find it as if the path had been carved for him alone. It’s a homecoming in its own right. 

“You feel so good,” he sighs the news like it's hot off the press. Like the words can't make it out of his mouth any sooner.

For a brief moment, stillness prevails as you adjust around him. You tuck your nose into his hair, where the subtle scent of his sweet, herbal shampoo lingers. Instead of canting his hips upwards like he so desperately wants to, he lets you have the moment. Presses a kiss to the bulb of your exposed shoulder, then allows his hands to find the hem of your tank top. You move to pull it over your head. He does the same with his own shirt, biting back a groan as you shift over top of him. 

Your nipples pebble in the cool air, even more so when he cups your chest and circles them with his thumbs. The sensation throws you into a shiver that jumpstarts a roll of your hips. Eddie’s fingers return to your waist in a silent encouragement. 

Before long, you leverage the bend at your knees to lift off him, then lower yourself back down. A rhythm soon forms, Eddie’s hips rise to meet yours. His thighs quake as a strangled sound of relief spills past his lips. 

A whimper escapes you as an invisible string pulls you forward to dot a few languid kisses across the apple of his cheek as you continue to ride him. 

“Oh—shit,”  he exhales shakily. “You’re perfect, sweetheart.” He sounds panicked and awed all the same. 

All you can do is hum at his words. Every time you lower onto him, it feels like he manages to reach a new depth that makes you want to crawl away. Yet your hands find his tattooed chest for the sole purpose of feeling more of him, his warm, dewed skin. A shiver shakes him when the tip of your nail grazes over one of his nipples. Spurred on, you pinch the peaked flesh next, which earns you a particularly hard thrust as he groans. A jolt of electricity rushes straight between his legs with the threat of being his undoing. 

“You’re gonna make me come, angel.” The shameless, exasperated way he says it makes you clench around him. 

You lower a hand to rub tight, purposeful circles over the tender bud between your legs, the pleasure sharper in the wake of his words. 

“I want you to come,” you attempt to keep your voice steady as you lilt. “Want you to fill me up. Want all of you.” 

Eddie groans and sags back into the cushions in an air of disbelief. Somehow you’re real. Somehow you chose him. And you’d never led him to believe that things should be any other way.

You lean forward in pursuit of him to kiss his throat, then up along his jaw until you’ve arrived at his bitten lips. The kiss carries the neediness of being on the edge. 

“Always gonna want you,” you whisper heavily against his mouth.  

Eddie whimpers. “You have me.” His thighs tense beneath you as he teeters on the brink. This time, when his hand finds your waist, it’s to ground himself in the intoxicating rock of your hips. 

You kiss him one last time, saliva slinking between you, before you touch your dewy forehead to his. 

“Come with me,” you frantically encourage. “Eddie, please—” 

The broken sound that punches out of him sends you into the thralls of a reckless release. It’s swift and forceful like a lightning bolt zipping from the sky. Your walls flutter around him as pleasure courses in every direction. Eddie has no choice but to let go. He jolts beneath you like stricken earth. His stomach clenches in time with each pulsing wave of release. 

Eddie’s neck becomes your hiding place as aftershocks ripple through you both. Your lips begin to press more deliberate kisses to the space where his neck and shoulder join. Beneath you, he sits like putty and softens within the warmth of you. He’s attuned to every small shift you make. You’re not quite ready to relinquish the fullness. 

A steady, clammy hand glides up your back and settles at the nape of your neck. When you sit up to meet his tired, satisfied gaze, you're struck by a surge of fondness. Of love. If you could erase his bad days, keep them from ever touching him, you would. But you can’t. They’ll come, for both of you, whether you like it or not. 

Still, you had this. Each other. That’s enough to make life a little sweeter, a little kinder. Even on the days that are anything but. 

Eddie’s lashes flutter when you run a gentle finger down his nose. “You okay?” you ask. 

He shifts beneath you, wincing at his forgotten sensitivity. A small smile pulls at his lips as he finally nods at your question, contentment clear in his eyes. 

“Promise?” you ask. 

“I promise, sweetheart.” 

He offers his pinkie as a seal of truth. 

- 

Thank you so much for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. I promise I see them all!

MORE EDDIE

ALL MASTERLISTS

[cacoetheswriting]

I have a request. Bare with me new at this request bit.

Eddie wakes up hands cuffed to his bed with reader blowing him. Then has sex with him.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.2k

content warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI: explicit and mature themes, smut, established relationship, cnc, somno, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, use of toys, adult language / dirty talk, use of pet names, a little pervy, more plot than porn tbh ‘cause i don’t know how else to write smutty content, slightly possessive!reader, jealousy, slightly dom!eddie but also slightly dom!reader - unedited - pls let me know if i missed any!

a/n: pls have your age / age range stated in your bio when requesting 18+ content. cleared here in the dm’s, but it saves a lot of back and forth when it’s in the bio - for any future requests.

He’s flustered. Stumbling over his words, cheeks a deep red. He’s avoiding your gaze. Staring instead at his beat up sneakers as he rolls a twig around with the sole of his shoe.

You can’t help the smirk that circles your lips as he stammers through the pros and cons of his proposition as if it’s a thesis and he’s aiming for top marks; or a close equivalent. If only he put this much care in his homework, you think to say but bite your tongue since he’s clearly nervous enough.

“What do you think?” He asks, finally meeting your eyes. 

The look behind the brown is hopeful, eager. Like a little boy waiting in line for a shiny new comic. Only, he’s not wanting a superhero book. No.

Eddie Munson has a request of a far different variety and you’d be lying if it didn’t excite you as well.

“You want me to suck you off while you’re sleeping?”

Eddie nods.

“If you think it’s too much, you can obviously say no and we can forget I-I even suggested it.” He’s stammering again. “I-I just thought it’d be a cool thing to try—”

“I’m not opposed to it,” you say, interrupting, and shrug your shoulders to showcase indifference although you’re feeling anything other than that.

You’ve been not-so-casually hooking up with Eddie for a little over a year. 

One would say — Robin — this situationship you have with the curly-haired metal-head is the reason you haven’t been able to find a real boyfriend, but what does she know about relationships anyway? Okay, harsh. She actually knows a lot considering she’s in one. Point being, it’s Eddie. And you’d forgo any connection just to hear him moan your name every single night: even if it means absolutely nothing the next morning.

“Are you putting a timeline on this, or do you want it to be a surprise?” You ask.

“Definitely a surprise.”

A week goes by.

You think about his proposition often. Sheer excitement mixed with a fuck ton of nerves. You’ve blown him before, numerous times. He says he loves when you do. Thinks about it afterwards. Jacks off to the memory of your lips around his dick.

This is different, however. He won’t talk to you. Won’t tell you how pretty you look on your knees for him. And you get off on his words.

You sleep over at the trailer twice during the week. 

The first night, you don’t want to seem too eager and make point to show Eddie how tired you are after he’s fucked you raw. He knows not to expect it then. Instead, he opens his arms and lets you cuddle him until dreams take over.

The second night, you sort of psych yourself out. His light snores ripple through the bedroom. It’s all you can hear, aside from the thumping of your heart. You think about this situation you have found yourself in with Eddie, and wonder if perhaps Robin is right about this whole thing between you and the metal-head. Maybe you should reserve the more kinky stuff for an actual boyfriend. Especially because there’s a lot of trust required to act on deviance when the other person is asleep and trust is often reserved for more traditional relationships, you think. What you and Eddie have is lust.

Then, one afternoon the following week, Eddie surprises you.

Unfortunately, not in a nice way. He’s talking to a girl. Flirting, actually. You can see them at the bar. He says something, which must be funny because the girl places a hand on his leather-clad shoulder and pushes him gently while throwing her head back in giggles. Eddie’s not funny. Okay, he’s hilarious but he’s not a make-a-girl-flirty-laugh funny. And your blood boils.

“A vicious thing, jealousy.” Steve mumbles next to you.

“Can you even be jealous if you’re not actually with the other person?” Robin asks.

You tell them both to shut up then force yourself to look away from the bar. From the guy that’s not your boyfriend, but rather the best hookup of your life, and the pretty girl he’s flirting with, who may one day very well become his real girlfriend. One could call this thing you’re doing now spiraling. Your friends do, they say it simultaneously because they see the look in your eyes. 

Wanting to save yourself from further embarrassment, you grab your handbag and your jacket, and tell your friends goodbye. They plead with you not to go, but only for a moment because Nancy is back with the next round of drinks and they forget all about your problems of the heart (and vagina).  

You push past the sweaty bodies of Hideout goers and slip out the front door, into the cool breeze. The sound of your heels against the pavement grows louder the further you get away from the dingy bar. Eddie was your ride home. He drew the short straw on being everyone’s designated driver for the night. He’ll have one stop less to make, you think, can spend that extra time with this girl he met.

Twenty minutes on foot and you’re home. You shed the night off your back. A quick shower, a fresh set of pyjama shorts. You down a cold glass of water, then another for good measure. And just like that, you’re feeling sober and ready for bed. Ready to forget the sight of Eddie and that girl.

The night however, has other plans.

There’s a knock on your door. Metal on wood. With a sigh, you cross the living room towards it and press down on the handle. Eddie’s standing in the corridor. His head snaps up as you open to reveal the inside of your apartment.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, crossing your arms.

“I came to see if you were okay,” he answers. “You left so abruptly. Didn’t even say goodbye.”

You shrug. “You seemed busy. I assumed you wouldn’t notice I left.”

Eddie’s brows string together.

“Why wouldn’t I notice?” He sounds genuinely confused, then recognition feigns on his features. “Is this because of the girl?”

You shrug again, because what else is there for you to do without completely spilling your guts.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“You know there’s only you for me, right?” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Dollface, I’m not interested in anyone else. That was just harmless flirting.”

You drop your arms and step aside, letting him pass. You shut the door behind him before turning to face him once more.

“Eddie, I’m not an idiot, okay?” You begin, “I know what we’re doing is casual and that one day it might end.”

“Who says anything about wanting anything to end?” He counters with a smirk and walks away, down the hallway, towards your bedroom.

By the time you join him, the metal-head has stripped down to a T-shirt and boxers. Wordlessly, he gets into your bed and lifts the covers up, waiting for you to join him. You drop your arms with an exaggerated sigh and he laughs. Smooth, music to your ears. 

Once you do, Eddie’s asleep in minutes. But not before he murmurs, “You’re the only girl I’d let anywhere near my dick and heart.”.

You giggle. “Aren’t they one and the same?”

He snorts. “Exactly, dollface.” And proceeds to place a kiss to the top of your head before sleep takes over.

Satisfied with how the night ended up — Eddie in your bed; the usual — you get comfortable in his embrace. Feeling safe and content, it doesn’t take long for you to also fall asleep. 

When you wake, it’s still dark, aside from the bedside lamp you left switched on. Eddie’s snoring next to you, but that’s not what your sleepy self is paying attention to. Your focus is on something hard pressing into your thigh and call it possessiveness or whatever, but suddenly you think to act on his offer from a few weeks ago. Make it that much more difficult for him to leave you for ‘the real deal’.

There’s a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs locked to your iron-rod headboard (from the last time Eddie stayed over). Tentatively, you reach for it and click the loose ring around Eddie’s wrist — the hand that’s so perfectly placed above his head, since he fell asleep resting on it.

Satisfied, a smirk circling your still sleepy expression, you run your hand down his chest, stomach, until you reach the band of his boxers. You glance at the metal-head, still sleeping, his erection now in your gentle grasp. So you sit up fully, pushing the covers aside.

Without further hesitation, you first circle your tongue around the tip of his cock, lick down his shaft, and then slowly drag it up along the underside. Lightly, you flick your tongue across the vein, just under the head. Eddie shivers underneath you, but makes no further indication that he’s awake, so you let your lips envelop around his head, taking him into your mouth.

Cheeks hollow, you suck, then swirl your tongue around and lick his shaft again. He moans in his sleep, shifts under you and the handcuff rattles. You glance at him from under your lashes and wet your lips before continuing. 

You slide his cock across your mouth, once, twice, then wrap your mouth around it once more. A moment passes as you hold him, erect. His cock fills your cheeks, nudges at the back of your throat, throbbing with need. Sucking, you slide your lips upwards, licking around the tip.

A groan escapes his lips. The sound is magical and it fuels your own desires further. You feel a little bit pervy, a pool of wetness pouring between your own thighs as your lips work on his release. You pick up speed, hands cradling his balls as you take him as deep into your mouth as you can.

“Mhmmm…” Eddie moans awake, “Baby, baby, baby…”

“Let me take care of you,” you say in a sweet tone, batting your lashes for good measure, although you know he can’t see, face buried into your pillows.

You take him back into your mouth, one hand now holding him in place. You slide up and down every inch of him, again taking him as far as you can into your throat while letting your hand do the rest. At the top of the stroke, you swirl your tongue around his head.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re making my wildest dreams come true, dollface.”

Flicking your eyes up to Eddie’s face, you find him watching, his own mouth open, his eyes glassy. He tries to reach for you, but the handcuff is keeping him in place and he groans — a mix of frustration and pleasure. As you work your magic, he braces his body on the bed, so he can jerk his hips up towards your face and you smile into his crotch, his eagerness fuelling your own.

“Mhm fuck, you’re going to make me cum,” he grits.

“Please do, baby. I need your cum in my mouth.”

And you increase your speed as he drops his lock of hair back onto the pillow below. You bop your head up and down his rock-hard length, encouraging him to give in and let go. Face a sticky mess of saliva and precum, you can feel him pulsing and throbbing in your mouth. Suddenly, his hips still and his cock swells between your lips.

He gasps. Chanting your name like a prayer, the metal-head shoots his load into your mouth, feeling more awake than ever. Rhythmically, you squeeze him and press your tongue against the back of his cockhead, drawing every drop out of him. Hot, thick, liquid splatters against the inside of your cheeks and runs down your throat as you straighten, satisfied.

Eddie sits up too, or tries to at least with the fluffy cuff around his wrist. On the elbow he can rest on, he does, looking at you as if you’re an angel sent from above, just for him.

“God,” he grounds out, “You’re unbelievable, dollface.”

A smile circles your lips while you lick them clean. You shuffle closer, hovering over his chest until your mouth finds him, capturing it in a deep kiss.

“I hope this is what you had in mind when you asked me?” You ask in a soft whisper.

He huffs out a laugh. “You exceeded any expectations. You always do.”

“Good.”

And you kiss him again, but not before freeing his wrist. He shakes it, cracks it, and reaches for your face. When his lips find yours for a third time, his dominant side takes over. The moment blooms. His hands work your body, over then under your skimpy pyjama set. Breathless, sweaty. Perfect. 

Unable to contain himself much longer, Eddie pulls you on top of him, one set of fingers digging into your hip bone as the other pulls your shorts aside. He’s smooth with his motions and settles you on his, once again, fully erect dick with ease.

“It’s only you for me, baby.” He says with conviction. “Never doubt that.”

His hand on your throat, squeezing gently as you roll your hips and moan his name until you see stars.

as always, thank you for reading & please support your writers by reblogging <3

[queen-of-diamonds-xo]

Broken Nails and Broken Promises

Eddie Munson x Reader

Prologue: Where Eddie Munson comes banging down Jim Hoppers door, desperate to fix you relationship. One he truly and entirely destroyed in a single moment.

Word count: 1700 (strap in lads and lass)

Y’all, it’s been a while! Now I know I’m late to the party however, Eddie Munson is one of my many fantasy husbands and I’ll be damned if you think I’m not going to change cannon just to bring him back. Hope y’all enjoy!

Themes: angst! (I tried), Slight mention of cheating! Very minor mentions of violence! Eddie pining over reader! Slight father son bond between Hop and Eddie! I think that’s it!

PART 2 HAS BEEN POSTED! “Shackled to you”

One last thing! I’m being dragged on a 4 day camping trip where I will have nothing better to do that sit aorunf and write for you lovely people! Send me ideas 🫶🏼🙏🫠

Eddie Munson is a royal pain in Jim Hoppers ass. An annoying, persistent, smart ass prick. Shoplifting, DUI, petty theft, assault. You name it, Hopper has caught Eddie doing it. But to be fair, Hopper had always been soft on the boy. Usually slapping him in cuffs before circling around the block and releasing Eddie with a few choice words and threats of actual, serious consequences next time. Hopper was always met with Eddies wicked grin and a mock salute as the boy stalked into the night.

But, that little prick did help save the world, and yeah he did try to be a hero and sacrifice himself, winding him up in the hospital for three months. Which is why, when Eddie comes crashing through Hops door, at 6am, on a goddamn Sunday, Hopper was ready to strangle the curly haired devil and drop his body in the lake. But he was stopped with an exaggerated raise of Eddie's pointer finger in his face. Eddies other hand lay perched dramatically on his hip as the boy heaved, years of smoking and minimal cardio was enough to wind the poor stoner. Who moments earlier had barreled out of his van, not even bothering to turn the damn engine off. The machine wining angrily in the distance at the decision.

“Okay I fucked up. Big.” Eddie manages to wease out, his hands emphasising his words with an exaggerated flap.

“And I need your help. And! Before you say anything, please just.” He stopped, eyes wild, scanning the room, looking anywhere but at Jim. Breath coming out heavy through his notisriles, lip pulled tight between his teeth. Still pacing the worn floor his fingers fly through his thick hair, curling into a fist at the back of his scalp. The familiar burn as his rings tug the unruly strands proves enough to ground him. His eyes flick up to meet Hoppers, desperate and wild.

He pushed out an exasperated breath as he started again;

“Please just, let me explain.”

—————————————————-

16 hours earlier:

You has been so excited, giddy even. Staring down at your freshly manicured nails. The ends rounded into a perfect point, coated in a deep, shiny crimson. Eddies favourite colour. A striking black “E” applied so delicately to your ring nail.

You had saved for months; pocket money, coins foraged from the depths of sofas, completing odd tasks for neighbours and friends.

Griminising at the memory of deep cleaning Steve Harrintons car, a tasks that most definitely wasn’t worth the twenty bucks.

All in an effort to surprise Eddie. Your Eddie.

You two tended to have wild conversations in his trailer, legs tangled together in the sheets. Bodies entwined so perfectly it’s as though you were made just to fit with him. ‘Sculpted from the gods like clay, moulded in their image’, thats what Eddie always said. It was one night, minds fizzy with a smoke filled haze, thoughts coming and going, bouncing between each other with smiles and quiet laughter. When he grabbed your hands in his, fingers tracing so delicately over yours.

“You know what would make you, like, even more breathtaking that you already are?” The boy pondered, that wicked grin encompassing his features,

“Oh. And what would that be, pretty boy?” You queried back, the nickname causing heat to rush to Eddies cheeks. His deep eyes meeting yours as he slowly lifted your hand closer to his face. You knuckles grazing lightly over his lips as he spoke.

“I’ve always been, distracted.” He hesitated, his lip becoming trapped by his teeth; “By a girls nails, you know?”

He answered his own question before you could speak.

“The way the look.” His free hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer, ever impossibly closer.

“The way they feel.” His breath hot in your ear sending a shock down your spine as you arched your back.

“wrapped around me, dragging down my back leaving your mark on me. Pushing into my neck.” He had to stop, eyes closing as he inhaled in your scent. Fingers curling into the soft flesh of your hip. Bodies so close, his everything encompassing yours. Twisting together into one.

“Just something that crosses my mind is all sweetheart.” He nuzzles into your neck, stumble tickling your soft skin. Mouth inching closer to your neck, the area tensing as your heartbeat crashes against your eardrums.

Yeah, that night. That was the night you made your decision and began hatching your plan.

You were going to get your nails done if it was the last thing you do. For Eddie.

Which is why when you found him, lent so casually against a pole, with Crissy fucking Cunninghma’s tounge down his throat. He left hand pressed firmly on his chest, a perfectly manicured French tip of her right grazing his cheek. One single finger nail dragging down his neck. The fucker leaning into her touch, chin lifting to grant her more access.

Well, you lost your shit. Stalking up to the pair, reaching our to practically rip the petite blondes body away from his. Shoving her away, your brain went into overdrive, letting emotion take hold. Fist flying in the air before you could even comprehend your actions, colliding hard with the left side of Crissy’s dumb, perfect face. Her body hit the ground with a hard thud, a small steam of blood flowing slowly from the girls bottom lip. You sieved in anger, letting the emotion corse through your veins.

He had tried to explain, even dropping to his knees as he pleaded, begged. Hands clasped firmly together as he tried to be heard. But you weren’t listening, angry words spitting from your mouth in a hot rage. Crissy had come to Eddie to purchase from his illicit business. The girl practically coiled herself around him, limbs encompassing his like a cobra. She had tried to convince Eddie to allower her to pay him in a other way. Before he would refuse her lips were on his, stained with strawberry lipgloss.

He didn’t want this. But he didn’t stop her. He couldn’t, feet glued in place as his brain stopped communicating with his body. And that’s how you found him. Your anger was justified, of course he knew that. But what he didn’t expect was for you to just leave, to turn on your heels and walk away, as he sits on his knees in the dust.

“Princess. Please.” He pleaded, to wrecked to even pick himself up. One arm stretching slowly in your direction. Rind glad fingers grasping at the empty pace between you.

You turn, and for a moment, the boy has hope. He looks up at you, tears falling from his darkened eyes, staining his red face with hot tears. His arm lands pathetically in his lap, waiting, hanging on your every word.

You throw something at him. The impact as patietic as he feels as the small object bounces off his chest. His eyes darting to the small, burgundy oval, tip filed to a perfect point. A crack runs through a prominent ‘E’ in dark black block font. The letter stars up at him accusingly.

“You.” You point another sharp nail in his direction, his eyes widening in surprise at the new extension. “You, Edward Muson. Are an asshole. And I never want to see your face again.”

As you walked away Eddie slammed his palm over his lips. Wiping angrily at the lingering remnants of pink sparkled lipgloss. The sweet sticky substance clinging to his skin, mocking him as the sparkles engrave themselves into the deep filberts of his jeans. His stomach twisting and throat burns as electric stomach bile rises. He spits violently, doubling over onto his hands and knees and he gags and cries. The content of his stomach landing in front of him in a wet, steaming heap. And Eddie swear he will never taste strawberries again.

Eddie tried to talk to you. If only he could explain. If only he could just see your face again, even if it’s for the last time. To touch your face, to kiss your soft lips. Ones that taste of Vanilla Coke and dark chocolate, a deep lingering of smoke cutting through all your sweetness. He called what feels like a hundred times. Even drove to your house, which he found dark and empty.

No, he needs to see you again. He needs to hear your voice. He needs to explain. To say he’s sorry.

—————————————

So that’s how Eddie ended up in Chief detective Jim Hoppers living room at 6am on a goddam Sunday morning. Pacing the floor in a chaotic and unhinged fashion, long arms flailing around him, har bouncing wild with his movements. He hadn’t slept, too caught up in his plan. His plan to get you back.

Eddie knew that if you didn’t want to interact with someone, they would never know you even existed. Which is why he also knew that words wouldn’t work in you. No, actions speak louder than words.

Jim sits in his armchair, head placed heavily in his hands. Eyes screaming at him for sleep, head pounding as Eddies words bounce around his skull. Reverberating off every bone.

As Eddies words stop, his story coming to an end. He looks at Hopper, arms pressed harsh against his sides as he waits on the older man’s reaction.

“And what exactly do you want me to do about this?” The man grunts, annoyance and fatigue evident in his tone.

For the first time in a long time, Eddies thoughts screeched to a halt. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know where you are. And most importantly he doesn’t know why he even came here. Jim hoppers house of all places, to beg the older man to help him.

The feeling claws at him, the scars etched deep in his skin burn. A reminder of the battles he fought in the past. Of the people he saved, the ones he brought back, and the ones he lost along the way.

Eddies wasn’t about to lose you to.

No way.

No. Fucking. Way.

[oneforthemunny]

reading the rockstar!eddie saga and absolutely ENTHRALLED omg

seeing nb with her babies makes me think of that tiktok where the mum is trying to teach the baby to say “mama” by pointing to herself and going “mama ✨✨😇😇” and a photo of the dad and gong “father 🥱😑😡” “mama✨😇😇’s husband🥱😑😡” (apologies if you have not seen it, i hope i provide the imagery necessary)

it’s just so her core to me like i feel like they would get SO competitive over who gets the first word they probably keep a damn tally of which kids said who first and everything.

i have not seen it but i shall proceed bc this is so cute. they would be so competitive i feel it lol. i have to share a little blurby moment of them being competitive. genuinely just fluff ahead. our fav rockstar!eddie and nb!reader being silly and in love with baby persephone, also features sephy's first word bc i got carried away.

"Sephy, look at me, baby angel," You cooed, your finger tapping at your lips, her bright brown eyes blinking over with a happy gurgle.

"Look say Ma-Ma." You annunciated each word, lips moving slow so she could watch, just the way the parenting books told you to.

Persephone only gurgled, tiny hands reaching out to wrap around your hair, tug you back down with a shrill of giggles when you'd wince in pain- an entirely Eddie Munson trait.

You took her little hands in yours, letting her fingers curl around your thumb gently. "Ma-Ma. M-M-M, look can you say, Mama?"

Sephy's lips smacked, and for a moment, you thought she might actually say it, that you'd be victorious. A spit filled hum was all that came instead.

"Ma-ma. Mama, mama, mama!" Your voice lilted, high and exaggerated, fully animated in a way that you hoped would capture her attention.

"Give it up, baby." Eddie scoffed lightly from the doorway, his hair still wet from the shower, shirtless in a pair of sweats that hung low on his hips. "She's not interested in saying that, are you, Sephy-girl?"

Eddie knelt beside you, ignoring your frown while Persephone reached out for him, legs kicking with excitement. "She's gonna say Da-da first, aren't you? Da-da." Eddie grinned, pressing his nose to hers gently.

In all honesty, you knew he was probably right. Persephone was such a daddy's girl, it would only be fitting that he'd be her first word. Still, you were determined. You'd carried her for nine months, done all the heavy lifting- she already looked just like Eddie, she couldn't have her first word be him too.

"Get outta here." You clicked your tongue, shoving him with your shoulder.

"So rude. We're having girl time. No boys allowed." You declared, picking Persephone up gently, bouncing her in your arms, peppering kisses on her baby fat filled cheek until she squealed with giggles.

Eddie thought his heart might burst right then and there. Every day he felt that way, and every day he was shocked at how it didn't; when Sephy was so cute, and you were such a good mom. He could melt into a puddle at the thought.

"Eh, you just want her all to yourself so you can corrupt her." Eddie shook his head, reaching for Persephone. That little traitor reached for him back, grabby hands and all. If it wasn't so adorable, it would leave you hurting.

"Say that's not fair, Mama. No it's not." Eddie baby talked, swaying with Persephone in his arms.

"Say life's not fair, father." You narrowed your eyes back at him, brow lifting with a challenge.

"Father?" Eddie scoffed, gawking at you lightly. "Oh, we're really playing dirty, are we?"

"I always play dirty, Munson, you should know that by now." Your lips rolled around a smirk, lashes batting up at him just for a moment, before you tickled Sephy's belly gently, cooing at her.

"Oh, sweetheart, you just declared war." Eddie's tongue rolled over his cheek. "You know that? You ready to go to battle?"

"Eddie's sooo silly, isn't he?" You babbled at Sephy, shaking your head gently. "He thinks he's scary. I was in labor for sixteen hours and da- father still thinks he's scarier than me. That's crazy."

Eddie's chest filled with a rush of a feeling he still didn't know how to describe. It first began when he met you, and since then, it had only grown since the wedding, since Persephone- complete adoration and awe mixed with utter contentment and a bit of possessiveness?

"That's fine." Eddie shrugged, lips tightening in a line to hide his grin that fought to break through. "I don't need to play dirty to win."

"Because you're not gonna win. No, you're not." You cooed, poking Sephy's tummy lightly. "Because Sephy loves Ma-ma, and Ma-ma is gonna be her very first word, and Ma-ma is gonna win. Yes, she is."

Persephone screeched, her little baby screech of laughter that left you both wincing a little, giggly at her little personality. She was growing so much every day, becoming her own little person. Neither one of you could think about it too much without becoming emotional.

The rest of the night was spent with the both of you going back and forth, a battle of the "Mama's" and "Dada's" until Persephone got annoyed, face scrunching with a tired cry- a trait Eddie swore came straight from you.

"Mama does the same thing when she's cranky, Sephy." Eddie cooed, swaying her gently, walking her towards the bathroom for her nightly bath.

You turned to glare at him, turning on the faucet with an eye roll. Persephone whined, rubbing her teary face in Eddie's neck. "You're just like your Mama, aren't you?" Eddie grinned at you, tossing you a wink that had you flushing with heat.

Persephone looked up at him, big brown eyes blinking. "Mama swears you're like Dada, but you're just like her."

"Please, look in the mirror." You scoffed, running your hand under the water to test it, head jerking over your shoulder towards the vanity. "That's your twin. I birthed a mini Munson."

Eddie laughed, turning with Persephone to look in the mirror. "I said act," Eddie snickered lightly. "You look just like Dada, but you act just like Mama, don't you?"

Persephone ignored his kisses, craning to look over Eddie's shoulder at you, hands reaching out towards you, annoyed that your back was turned to her. A small whine came again, lips smacking around a cry.

"Hold on, Sephy, Mama's getting the bath all ready for you." Eddie swayed her, turning so she could see you easier.

Persephone was not impressed, giving a teary scowl that did mirror yours entirely. A half-hearted cry fell from her lips, reaching out for you again, babbling around a whine.

"Hey, you done with me now?" Eddie frowned dramatically, bouncing the baby to try and soothe her. "Oh, you just want Mama now? Done with me?"

"Just a second, baby, I'm almost done." You cooed over your shoulder, anchoring the bather, pressing on it to test it. "Ed, can you undress her?"

"Yeah, I think she's gonna cry though if you don't look at her, babe." Eddie bounced Persephone lightly, trying to soothe her angry grunts and babbles. "She wants you."

"Mama's almost done." You wiped your hand on the towel, looking at Persephone over your shoulder. "Shit, her towel is in her nursery."

It happened in a split second, your hand on the door knob, just barely stepping through the doorframe towards the nursery.

"Mama!"

The word clearly rang through the bathroom, straight to where you were. You and Eddie both froze, wide eyed and holding your breath in disbelief. Unfortunately, the excited screeches you both gave only made Persephone cry more, but you'd take it- you had won. Sephy's very first word was Mama. You and Eddie both had never been so proud.

[ashwhowrites]

“eddie munson would be the type of guy who would say “oooo you wanna kiss me so bad” in the middle of an argument” PLEASE MAKE THIS A FIC🙏🙏🙏🙏🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

This is hilarious! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting ❤️

You wanna kiss me

Being somewhat friends with Eddie could be tiring. He never ran out of energy and he enjoyed getting on everyone's last nerve. He liked jokes, pranks, and teasing. He never had a dull moment.

Y/N was introduced to Eddie through Steve, and it was hard to ignore he was attractive. The worst part is that he seemed to know she thought it. That from the first look, she was smitten and he loved it.

But some days she wanted to strangle him.

"Eddie! Quit flicking me!" She growled as she scribbled down on her homework. His fingers continued to flick her arm, enjoying the way she glared at him.

The lunchroom was busy and loud as she tried to focus. The hellfire table all caught up in conversations, leaving Y/N as Eddie target.

"You know if you did that last night, you wouldn't be so stressed," he smirked, popping a pretzel in his mouth as he leaned back in his chair.

Her head snapped to cuss him out, slightly stopping as his legs spread and his hands went behind his head. The stupid smirk made her stomach flutter.

"I was trying to! You kept taking it away! Seriously leave me alone for the next ten minutes or I'm going to kill you," she threatened.

Eddie chuckled as she went back to her paper. But it was noticeable that she kept side-eyeing him as he shifted. He placed his arms on the table, leaning down to whisper near her.

"Kill me? That sounds mean," he teased. He smiled as her pencil snapped and a growl left her throat. Her eyes were blazing as she looked at him. She barely noticed his face was inches away from hers as she fumed.

"Edward," she said through clenched teeth.

"Ooo you wanna kiss me so bad!"

All the anger vanished from her body as she sat frozen. Her eyes wide as she stared at him. Her heart raced at the thought of her crush being known. She couldn't let him have the upper hand with everything.

Seeing her shocked and scared face, Eddie smirked and leaned back. "Go on, finish that homework," he had the nerve to wink.

She quickly looked back at the piece of paper, trying to distract her mind with the words in front of her.

~~~

Neither said anything about his comment. She didn't want to bring it up and he didn't mention it. She thought maybe she was in the clear as a few days passed. But she should have known Eddie doesn't stop once he's made progress in pissing someone off.

Y/N hoped it wasn't noticeable that she put extra time into her appearance for a movie night with Eddie. He was on his way and she was running around cleaning everything. She made sure nothing embarrassing was in her room and prepared the movie.

The second he walked in, her nerves were all over the place.

"Now I know it's your turn to pick the movie. But did you at least pick something good?" He asked as he slipped off his shoes.

"You'll find out," she shrugged with a smile. She led him upstairs, no idea he was checking her ass out on the way up. Once they made it to her room, he made himself comfortable. Throwing himself on her bed as he took all the room.

"Now where do I sit? The floor?" Her arms crossed as she looked at him.

"You'd look even hotter if you popped your hip out to the side," she rolled her eyes at his smirk. That damn smirk that never seemed to leave his lips.

"Just move over," she scoffed as she walked to her bed. But he didn't budge. "Eddie, seriously!"

"Make me," he challenged. She let out a loud sigh. She was tempted to try, see if she can yank his arm out of his damn socket but she knew he was stronger. And he'd win again and again.

"I'm not playing around," she said as a warning. Her voice annoyed as he laughed. He held his hands up in surrender, moving an inch over.

"You can fit right here," he said as he patted the spot next to him. She'd fit, but she'd be pressed up right against him.

"You know what? Fine!" She smiled, finally knocking him off his high horse as he truly looked shocked. She grabbed the remote and held her breath as she got on the bed. She tried to ignore him watching as she rested on her side, letting her breath go as he was behind her. At least this way she couldn't see his face and might have a chance at making it through the night.

She jumped when his hand landed on her hip. She was frozen as she stared straight ahead. Her breathing uneven as his body moved even closer. Her face flushed as she felt his hard chest right against her back.

"You gonna hit play?" He whispered in her ear, noticing the goosebumps that were raised on her neck. "Or just waiting to see if you feel something else touching you?"

Just like that, she was back to being annoyed. "You're disgusting!" She gasped as she turned around to shove him. He laughed as he rolled to his back, giving her more space. She quickly took the room, smiling in victory.

"Ha! I won!" She cheered, but her breath caught in her throat as she looked at him. He was already staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face. "Eddie?"

He snapped out of whatever he was thinking, that stupid teasing smile on his face. She rolled her eyes, preparing to roll over before he could even start, but she couldn't help but stare back at him. She tried to move her body but it stayed put.

"Stop looking at me like that!" She said as she shoved his shoulder. The look made her stomach erupt in butterflies and made her heart race. She knew liking Eddie wasn't a smart idea. He lived to tease and flirt with everyone and she couldn't take any of it seriously.

"Why?"

She looked down at his lips but quickly caught herself. But he already saw it, his lips moving into a shit eating grin.

"You wanna kiss me so bad," he whispered, moving his face closer to hers. "Just do it. It's obvious you want to."

Y/N debated it but she knew if she did, he'd brag about winning because that's all it would be.

"Keep dreaming," she scoffed, turning around and pressing play.

Eddie tried not to seem disappointed as he settled down. His hands itching to touch her again but he kept to himself.

~~~

Y/N truly never planned to admit her feelings but the more time she spent with him and the more he teased her, the harder it was.

All those times he teased about them kissing made her want it even more. What if she did it? Would he be shocked? Would it shut him up? What would happen after?

There were too many questions and she was terrified of the consequences. She enjoyed it when his attention was on her, but as she looked across the hideout with his attention on another girl she wished she made the move.

He invited her, and yet she was left at the table alone. He was supposed to be getting drinks but it seemed he was getting a date instead. After ten minutes of waiting, she got up. This was exactly why she never said anything.

She walked over to the couple, tapping his shoulder. He stopped mid conversation, turning to see who it was. He smiled as he saw her.

"What's up?" He asked. Truthfully, he had the hots for Y/N since Steve brought her around. And Eddie didn't have the best track record when it came to girls. He had a feeling she liked him but he was too chicken to make the move and look like an idiot. He also didn't know how to communicate his feelings so he went for the teasing and flirting route. All of which lead him to nothing. She never caved in.

"Look I'm not going to sit around and wait for whatever you are hoping to get from her so I'll just see you at school," she said, giving the girl a look over before she walked away.

"Y/N! Wait!" He said, not saying a word to the other girl as he walked after her. He grabbed her hand as they made it outside.

She didn't want to seem jealous or annoyed. She wanted to seem like she was completely fine.

"Yes?" She sighed, turning around to look at him. He dropped her hand and she was quick to slip it in her jacket pocket.

"I wasn't trying to get anywhere with that girl"

"Eddie, I really don't care if you were or not. I'm tired and want to go home"

"You don't care? Really?" He asked, turning his head to the side like he could x-ray through her lie.

"Really," she smiled, "do you want me to care?"

"Maybe I do," he said honestly. "I kinda thought something was building here."

She scoffed at his words, laughing quietly to herself. "Oh you mean all the teasing and pissing me off? Is that the only form of flirting you have?"

"At least I can admit to feeling something," he snapped. "I know what you're doing. You refuse to give in."

"Give in? Eddie, you were two seconds away from fucking a random girl at a bar you invited me to! So yeah, god forbid I'm smart and can see a shitty guy who will only play with my feelings for his entertainment," feeling pissed, she turned around and began to walk off.

But now he was pissed and annoyed, following her.

"A shitty guy? I'm not a shitty guy. And I told you I wasn't doing anything with her!"

"I don't care, Eddie," she sang, she tried to walk faster but in seconds he appeared in front of her. He blocked her from leaving as he moved in front of her anytime she moved.

"I think you do care otherwise you wouldn't be jealous," he smirked. "Because If we were just friends, I don't think your mind would be racing about me and that girl."

"Wipe that smug look off your face," she rolled her eyes. "Go right ahead and get her number," she said as she patted him on the shoulder.

"Yeah? Should I?" He pressed, his head moving closer to her. But she didn't back down, letting him lean in.

"Yeah, go for it. Hope she says yes so you don't get embarrassed," this time the teasing smirk on her face.

He chuckled at her, both staring at each other as their faces grew closer. It was almost like they didn't know it was happening until they were nose to nose.

"Ooo you wanna kis-" this time she cut him off. Her hands on his face as she smashed her lips against his.

He finally got it, wasting no time as he kissed her back. All the tension they had was adding heat to the kiss as he walked her up against the wall.

Moaning into each other's mouths as they gripped each other desperately. The kiss was better than either of them imagined. She wasn't surprised that he was a good kisser. His lips moved perfectly against hers and her head spun when his tongue slipped inside her mouth.

Safe to say, Eddie got exactly what he was hoping for.

[keeryhours]

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Order: Chocolate lava cake served for two with crushed oreos and whipped cream

Ingredients: Smut (18+), fem!reader, one bed trope, first time, handjob, unprotected p in v, creampie

Total: $20.79 (2k words)

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“I don’t know if I can drive home in this.”

Eddie walked up behind you, peering over your head at the torrential downpour occurring outside. It was raining like crazy, so hard you could barely see right in front of you.

“Shit,” Eddie cursed. “I don’t know how the hell we didn’t hear that-“

“Couldn’t hear over the sound of you shaking in your boots over The Exorcist,” you teased.

“Hey, I was not scared,” Eddie said, looking at you seriously. “I was just…cold.”

“Sure,” you grinned, walking around him and back into the trailer. It was late, Wayne had long ago left for work. You were supposed to be having a movie night with Steve and Robin, but they bailed at the last second, leaving you and Eddie alone.

“I wasn’t scared!” he called back. He shut the front door, locking it, and followed you back into the living room. “So, uh…I guess you’re spending the night here?”

“I guess so,” you agreed. “Because I can’t drive in all that.”

Eddie nodded. “Okay. Uh…”

“What?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well I don’t, exactly…have somewhere for you to sleep?”

“You have a bed, don’t you?”

“Well yeah, but-“

“But what, you don’t want to share with me?”

Eddie blushed. “No- I mean, I do- wait, fuck-“

You beamed. “Perfect, then. We can just share. I don’t mind.”

Eddie minded. The ache in his jeans certainly minded, the thought of you in his bed only making it worse. What did you sleep in? He pictured you in nothing but your underwear, cuddling up to him for warmth-

You happily bounded into his bedroom, making yourself at home on the bed. It wasn’t the biggest, enough for the two of you but you’d be close. You looked up at Eddie, standing frozen at the bottom of the bed.

Eddie’s mouth went dry at the sight of you laying on his bed. You were leaning back on your elbows, looking up at him with this innocent expression that made his cock twitch. If he wasn’t so scared of ruining the friendship he would just say that - well, not about his cock, but that he found you beautiful. That he wanted to kiss you really, really badly right now.

“I don’t have any clothes with me,” you said. “Do you, uh, have anything I could borrow?”

Eddie snapped out of his thoughts. “Oh, yeah. I have some t-shirts you can use. I have pajama pants, if they’ll fit?”

“I’m good in just a t-shirt,” you smiled. You went to his dresser and opened a drawer, pulling out an old Hellfire shirt. “Perfect!”

Eddie was frozen as you took off to the bathroom with his shirt. You were going to sleep in just the shirt? In his bed? With him? He half expected you to kick him out and make him sleep on the couch, but when you came back dressed in nothing but his oversized shirt and your panties, dropping down into his bed and looking at him expectantly - he realized this was really happening.

Eddie stripped down to his boxers and flipped the light switch, climbing into the bed next to you. He could feel the warmth of your body against his. He’d never been so close to a girl before, and it was setting his body alight, every nerve ending on fire.

He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep. But then you turned over, eyes closed, and threw your leg over his. Your knee brushed against his cock and despite his best efforts it came stirring to life again, right against your leg.

He tried to adjust you, to move your leg away from his growing problem, but every time he’d try you’d grumble in your sleep and move it back. The brushing against his dick was exacerbating the problem quickly, and he was terrified by the very real possibility that you were going to wake up to find him rock hard right next to you.

He thought of everything to bring his boner down - all kinds of non-sexy thoughts running through his mind. But you were still there, right on top of him, and oh god-

“Eddie?” you said sleepily. “Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

You moved your leg to remove it from his waist, but you hit something hard instead. Eddie involuntarily groaned at the sudden sensation, then quickly covered his face with his hands.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know why that’s happening, I just- you’re so-“ Eddie stopped himself before he could put his foot in his mouth any more than it already was.

“I’m just so what?” you asked, a teasing lilt to your voice that almost made him think you were enjoying this.

“Please forget I said anything,” Eddie begged, utterly humiliated. “Seriously, I don’t want this to ruin our friendship.”

“Why would it ruin our friendship?” you asked, running your fingernails up his bare chest. He shivered beneath your touch.

“Because- because you don’t like me back like that?” he said, suddenly unsure with the way you were touching him, maybe even…flirting?

“Says who?”

Eddie swallowed. “I- I don’t know.”

Your hand drifted lower until it was brushing over his erection, and Eddie was in the palm of your hand, literally and figuratively. He groaned, covering his eyes with his arm. “What are you doing t’me?”

“Making you feel good, it looks like,” you said. He could hear the smirk in your voice, and it only made him ache even more. You wrapped your hand around his clothed cock and squeezed it, making him whine.

“You like that?” you whispered. Eddie nodded quickly, don’t stop, please don’t ever stop-

You removed your hand. Eddie uncovered his eyes to look at you, to ask why you’d stopped, when he saw you reach for the waistband of his boxers and pull them down enough to release his cock.

“Hah-“ Eddie breathed a strangled moan as you touched his bare cock for the first time, twitching hard in your hand, like it was begging you to do more. “Fuck-!”

“It’s so pretty,” you mused, watching your hand work him up. He was growing even harder from your touch, his tip flushed red and leaking. Eddie whined again, canting his hips up into your hand. “Use your words, Eddie.”

“Please,” he gasped. “Don’t stop, please, keep going. Feels so good.”

You couldn’t help but smirk when he was begging you like that, so desperate for more of you. “Have you ever done this before?”

“No,” he admitted easily, his mind already gone to the feeling of your hand between his legs. “Never.”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

His eyes popped open. “W-What?”

“Do you want to kiss me?” you asked again, the soft smile on your lips all he could stare at.

“So bad,” he groaned. You leaned in and pressed your lips against his and his hand immediately tangled in your hair, holding your face close to his. He kissed you like he’d seen people kiss in the movies, all tongue and lips and passion. It surprised you, and you found yourself moaning into it, speeding up your hand on his cock.

“Can I have you?” he asked, looking up at you with those big innocent yet hungry eyes. “Please. Need you so bad. I can’t take it anymore.”

“You can have me,” you promised him, sinking back into his kiss. “You can have all of me.”

Eddie’s hand slid up your oversized t-shirt, feeling the soft skin of your sides and stomach, the smooth roundness of your breasts. His thumb brushed over the hardened peak of your nipple, making you let out the most delicious little moan into his mouth. He took the opportunity to lick against your tongue, tasting you.

“Your body is incredible,” Eddie muttered against your lips. “So fucking hot.” His large hands trailed to your back, feeling the skin there before dropping down to grip your ass, hardly covered by your panties at all. It was all too much for Eddie, he was worried he was going to bust right then and there.

“Need you now,” he growled, rolling you over so he was between your legs. His boxers were pushed down just enough to reveal his aching cock, your t-shirt pushed up over your tits. He slipped his hands beneath your panties and pulled them down, tossing them onto his floor.

“I don’t have a condom,” he said just as he lined himself up at your entrance. “Shit.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I still want it.”

His resolve was so weakened by that point, he didn’t care about the potential consequences. He dragged his cock through your folds, feeling your wetness. His tip pressed against your hole, and you drew in a sharp breath.

“S’big,” you mumbled, which just made Eddie’s chest swell with pride.

“Yeah, baby?” He kissed your neck, biting down and sucking hard, leaving a mark. He wanted everyone at school tomorrow to know who had fucked you.

“Yeah,” you said softly, the word turning to a whine as Eddie pushed inside of you. The stretch was more than you imagined, more full than you’d ever felt.

“Oh, christ,” Eddie moaned, feeling his cock fully enveloped by your pussy for the first time. It was like heaven. Eddie had never felt anything so incredible in his life, the perfect, tight heat of your cunt surrounding him sending his mind reeling.

“Eddie,” you whimpered. “Please fuck me.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. He pulled his hips back, leaving only his tip inside. He rolled his hips into you, sinking all the way back inside, and he moaned like he never wanted to feel anything else for the rest of his life.

Eddie set a comfortable pace, nothing too fast yet because he wanted to enjoy it and not cum in 2 seconds. A nice, steady, slow pace, pressing so deeply into you every time he thrusted in that it felt like you could feel him everywhere.

“Jesus, baby,” he moaned as he fucked you slow and deep, his face buried in your neck. “You’re so tight. I can’t believe how fuckin’ tight you are. I never knew it would feel this fuckin’ good.”

“Want more, Eddie,” you begged. “Please.”

Eddie increased the speed of his hips, the slap slap slapping sound getting louder in the small trailer as he fucked himself into you deeper and faster. His hips were pounding into you at a desperate pace, his old bed creaking, headboard thudding into the wall, leaving chips in the paint.

Liquid heat spread throughout his body, from his core through every limb. His thighs trembled as he neared his orgasm, your pussy tightening around him in a way that had him seeing stars.

“‘m close, Eddie,” you moaned. “Gonna cum all over your cock.”

“Yeah baby, that’s it. Show me. Show me how good my cock makes you feel.”

You guided one of his hands down between your bodies to press against your clit. He got the message quickly, rubbing circles on it, building you higher and higher. You felt yourself climbing, nearly there-

You came around him hard, pussy throbbing around him as you drained his cock for every drop. Your orgasm set his own off, and he was pumping his load into you, your greedy pussy begging him for more, wanting everything he had to give.

Eddie pumped his hips into you until there was nothing left, until you were both too sensitive to do anything more. He pulled out of you and laid on the bed, an arm out for you to cuddle into. You took the invitation, cuddling against his sweaty body.

“You know how you were worried it would change things between us?” you asked quietly, only over the sound of both of your breathing.

“Yeah?” Eddie said. “What about it?”

“Maybe it should change things between us. I don’t know if I want to be your friend anymore.”

Eddie furrowed his brows. “What?”

“Maybe,” you said, “I want to be more.”

“What? Like…you wanna be my girlfriend?”

“Is that what you want?” You felt anxiety for the first time that night, realizing that Eddie might not feel the same. That this might have really been just a casual fuck for him.

“Fuck yeah, that’s what I want,” Eddie said, laughing. “Will you? Be my girlfriend?”

“Yes, Eddie Munson,” you giggled. “I will be your girlfriend.”

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[tightjeansjavi]

Kas Eddie is just so 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 I need to go take a cold shower after this one

YOUR HEART GOT TEETH!

Masterlist

Edit

Pairing: Kas/Vampire!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Your grief swallows you whole. And so will he. 18+ ONLY, minors do not interact.

WC: 7.0k

Content: Predator/prey (he basically hunts you in the forest), no use of y/n, kinda ooc Eddie cause he’s Kas/a vampire, discussions of grief/loss, somewhat detailed (but brief) description of eddie's scars (from the demo-bats), taunting/mocking, unprotected piv, rough sex, dirty talk, fingering, pussy pronouns, tiny bit of spit play, blowjob (kind of?).

A/N: I did a little research on Kas so some of his character is incorporated into this but I also took my own creative liberties. So this is not supposed to be a totally accurate depiction of Kas.

*gif source | *divider source 1 | *divider source 2

He must have been lurking in the murky shadows and fog clinging to the trees. Or maybe he was part of it—moving through the fog as the mist himself. Of course, you were initially ignorant to his presence, drowning in grief as you were. 

The dense wood of the forest effectively dampens sound from beyond, making it easy to pick up on any snapping twigs or skittering up in high branches. 

But he—it?—moved silently. Swiftly. Evading sight. 

Then there was this sense. Like a sixth one kicked into gear, raising goosebumps on dewy skin. An overwhelming presence which immediately triggered your fight or flight response. 

You should run. But you’d always been one to freeze. Vulnerable. Easy prey.

This time is no different. You don’t move a muscle, standing stock still in front of the large old tree stump. Staring down at the polaroid of that grinning face you miss so dearly, which lays among the trinkets and things left there by his little sheep and the band. All laid out nicely atop the stump, it’s many rings—some light, some dark—barely visible beneath the clutter. Though it will never spend another season growing additional rings.

With your heart slamming against your ribs and the blood rushing in your ears it takes you a second too long to regain control of your muscles. To flee this place–this crudely cobbled together memorial, unstained by public view & tampering. 

So when you turn to leave, there he is. 

You freeze. And you swear your heart stops pumping blood through your arteries. Terror taking over as your blood runs cold. 

Moonlight slashes across half his face, illuminating one sparkling brown eye and a slice of that slowly spreading grin. Sharpened canines slide over dark lips, pleased to find you here. 

Pinkish-red scars decorate his flesh, shredded skin healed unevenly, giving them this odd webbed effect. They begin at his jaw and crawl down his neck only to disappear beneath tattered clothing. His bat tattoo, your favourite, is present but marred by the deep scars where the demo-bats tore away at his flesh. The irony is not lost on you, but the sight is too grim to dwell on.  

When he leans in closer you can smell him. An odd mimicry of Eddie. Different from before when his heart pumped blood through his veins. Something in your body naturally resistant to it, but simultaneously lured to him—an unadulterated pull. With every erratic inhale you crave more, like a smoker greedily sucking nicotine into their lungs.

You loathe to admit its intoxicating effect. Because this—this thing—can’t be Eddie. Not your Eddie. But some spectral version, warped by the mirror world. 

It’s only when he speaks that you have any sort of visible reaction to him at all. Like he could’ve been some figment of your interminable grief—unbelieving in him until his acknowledgment of you.

“You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

Stupidly, you gasp in surprise, stumbling backward, hand reaching out behind you for something to tether you to this earth because surely you must have gone mad.

The rough and textured feel of bark scrapes against the sensitive skin of your palm. Though it does little to ground you. 

He moves swiftly toward you again, this bona fide creature keeping close, commanding the fog to shift around you. Invading your senses. That grin is ever-growing and increasingly self-satisfied.

You’re breathing hard, eyebrows scrunched together—confused, intrigued. 

Though his scent is somehow subtly altered, his voice remains much the same, but with richer notes of darkness. An almost imperceptible difference. His tone differs too. It’s mocking, yes—not in the same playful way Eddie used to be—but it’s also curious, unfamiliar. 

It presses the heavy implication over your heart that he doesn’t recognize you. How could that be?

The way he examines you reveals his unfamiliarity, though his eyes remain unchanged—the same shade of dark chocolate. And it is this which elicits an aching longing. One that burrows deep in your heart.

Though he looks like him. Sounds like him. And almost smells like him. It isn’t him. You know this to your marrow, like you know that the sun will rise tomorrow. It’s his body, yes. But not his mind. At least, not all of it. Clearly, it does not carry his memories. 

When he reaches up, cold fingertips ghosting past your chest, your collarbones, your neck, you have to suppress a shiver. But the renewed goosebumps rising on your skin betray you. 

His lips curl into a smirk, this one self-satisfied and hungry as the knuckle of his index finger grazes the sensitive flesh of your cheek. Try as you might not to, you flinch. He pouts at you mockingly, his touch unyielding.

“I could devour you, sweetheart,” he whispers, like the thought has only just come to him as his flesh met yours. Like it excites him to no end and sends the fresh scars pressed into his flesh thrumming. 

“You won’t,” you say shakily, not because you know this, but because you’re hoping. 

But your heart is beating out of your chest like a bunny that’s been caught between the sharp teeth of a fox, who knows it’s only a matter of time before its heart stops pounding and its blood ceases to pulse through its veins. 

You wonder if he can hear it with the way his face twitches and he appears to stop and listen, savouring some near silent thumping. This has you suppressing another shiver. 

Do you want him to devour you? 

No. 

You want him to try.

“I won't?” he retorts with a tilt of his head, his voice suddenly taking on a sharper quality. A dangerous edge to it like he’s responding to a challenge—provoked by the suggestion that he could be merciful. 

He could tear you to shreds right here and now and you’d let him–couldn’t stop him. He wants to. You can see it in his eager gaze. While this incites deep seated fear, it’s also a thrill. Something which awakens you after the nightmare that the last few weeks have been. Spending your days sleepwalking, rather than living. You realize it’s the first time you’ve felt alive since he took his final breath in your arms. 

He must see it in your face—as perceptive as he was in life.

“Watch me,” he spits. Watch me tear you apart. 

You swallow, throat dry. 

He leans in and you almost bear your neck to him, seemingly ready for him to take you from this earthly plane. 

Suddenly, his gaze snaps sharply down to his left. Your heart lurches in your chest, stomach flipping as your eyes flit over his shoulder to the left. Then to the right. Has he heard something? Possibly, a presence that could put an end to this? Oddly, the thought does little to relieve you. Instead, panic surges—a need to keep him here with you, if only it will result in your end–burning bright in your body. 

The treeline remains empty and dark, save for the still hovering fog choking the trees. 

If you were going to escape, this moment offers an opportune window. But that panic of losing his presence keeps you as rooted against his chest as these very trees are to the ground. 

Of course, you don’t hear it. The disembodied voice only falls on his sharp ears when it hisses, “She serves a grander purpose.” 

His sword, sheathed in its scabbard, speaks. He is ever bound to its command, whatever it calls for.

Your eyes return to his—finding with a shock that his gaze has already fallen upon you again—when he speaks. 

“A greater purpose than a meal?” 

His gaze rests upon you, but the question is evidently not for you—who it is for, you may never know. 

Whatever one-sided conversation he was having must yield unfavourable results because his jaw ticks and nostrils flare. Frustration, maybe even anger, bubbles behind dark eyes. 

He must obey. 

But he’ll still have his fun. 

Eddie decides right then and there that if he cannot satisfy his blood lust for you—if he cannot indulge in his thirst—then he will instead seek to satiate an alternatively carnal form of hunger. 

Drinking your blood is not the only method of sowing terror. There are other means. He can get creative.

He leans in then, teeth bared, and you catch his canines growing sharper, protruding further from his gums when he whispers, “I'll give you a head start…run.” 

When he says it it’s like the forest goes silent. Like all those tiny, near undetectable noises cease when he speaks. It’s eerie the way you don’t notice them until they’ve quieted. 

At that moment, you tear through the woods, blowing past his memorial. Leaves crunch and twigs snap underfoot. You’re the opposite of stealth. Something this Eddie seems to be well-versed in. You’re clumsy in your terror, easy prey.

Having spouted falsities, he gives you no head start, immediately tracking you effortlessly through the fog. 

You ignore the stitch quickly cutting into your side and keep running. But your sense of direction fails you quickly, everything beginning to look the same–all looming trees, dappled moonlight, and menacing shadows. All you can do is keep moving forward.

Then there’s movement to your left. 

Is your mind playing tricks on you? Morphing the shadows of great oaks in your periphery to resemble the creature that’s hunting you? Or is he right there, just waiting for the ideal moment to strike? Letting the fear build in your gut before he pounces. 

You just need to keep moving. 

One moment it sounds like he’s hot on your tail, but when you chance a look, he isn’t there. 

There’s the quick scratching against bark like an animal hurriedly climbing a tree, traversing it as effortlessly as a duck floats on water. 

But you can’t look again, unwilling to tear your eyes away from the winding paths to see him scaling trees. Just the idea raises the hair on your arms. 

The road. Only a sliver of it, gently illuminated by a dull street lamp, is visible through the dense wood. But it’s there. Just a hundred feet or so ahead–freedom and safety coming into view. 

Despite your terror though, your all-out sprint fades into a jog. Hesitating in the densest part of the forest. 

You lost Eddie once. This would be like losing him all over again, wouldn’t it?

You crave just one more glimpse of him because running from him after weeks of yearning to hold him in your arms again feels wrong. But you know your grief is clouding your judgement, and a voice of reason pops up, telling you to run, go!

When you realize what he’s done–lead you into the densest part of the woods on purpose–it’s too late. 

Your moment’s hesitance costs you.  

He led you here so you could hardly revel in the warm embrace of safety before coldly tearing it from your grasp.

Nearly nose-to-nose, Eddie seemingly materializes from the mist in front of you. “Boo!” 

“Shit!” You jump, falling hard onto the dirt floor of the forest. You groan–heart hammering and tailbone aching, just laying there, willing your heart to calm. 

Then he’s gone. There, in terror-induced vibrant clarity. And then a vanishment so swift you can’t be sure he was ever really there to begin with. 

Laughing darkly from somewhere above–a sinisterly, amused sound–you venture a hesitant look upward, into the dense branches above. 

Eddie is in the tree. There, he crouches on a thick branch as he observes you with the tilt of his head. His curious smile seemingly glowing in the darkness with the top half of his face shrouded in shadow. 

And then once again, he manifests by your head. 

He’s more menacing like this. Always was taller than you. But from this vantage point he’s a leering predator appraising injured prey. An easy meal. He could make quick work of you. 

“That stupid, huh?” he laughs as if the prospect is the most amusing thing in the world. “Thought you’d get away easy?” 

He continues to taunt you as he stalks around you, now standing at your waist.

You try to raise up onto your elbows, but to no avail as searing pain shoots up your spine. 

“Hm?”

It should be the last thing to spring to mind right now. But his tone strikingly resembles the condescending one Eddie would use in bed. When he’d ask: That feel good? Hm? And he knew it did.

It forces you to look at him—like Pavlov’s dog drooling at the sound of the bell. A conditioned response.

Eddie’s practically glowing in the soft moonlight. 

He’s so…alive. 

It chokes you up a bit. A lump forming in your throat as unshed tears sting your eyes. You tear your gaze from him, guilt sinking into your belly like an anchor in the ocean. 

“Look at me,” he demands immediately, voice proud and controlled. Despite the guilt, you cannot reject your body’s reaction to him. It’s that tone. It sends shivers up your spine and warmth into your gut—a pleasant ache for something raw and intense. 

You obey. 

Maybe it’s the grief. The sudden loss of someone so dear. But as you lay here—bruised and tired, and gazing up at him—you don’t mind that he has no memory of you. He’s still right here, standing in front of you, isn’t he? You think you’re still trying to convince yourself. 

You are a tangled, contradiction of feeling. Fear continues to nip at your neck while intrigue licks at your spine as you observe this freakishly orphic creature observing you. He’s…enchanting, captivating.

Eddie sighs deeply, gazing up briefly at the moon peeking through the leaves. It hangs bright above you, branches extended toward it, as though worshipping it. 

The sound he makes is like savouring relief. Upon feeling the open air on his skin, thankful for the reprieve from the shadows that the moonlight brings. Though you can’t know this—that he is confined to the darkness for all eternity.

You’re finally able to push yourself up on your elbows–not without wincing–when he returns his gaze to you. Your breathing slows and deepens as another pleasant and warm feeling twists in your belly. 

“What am I going to do with you?” he ponders sardonically, excitedly. 

You find the answer comes out of your mouth without thought. Another involuntary response from your body. 

“Anything.” It sounds so needy. Feathery, as your response floats off into the trees. 

Were you crazy or desperate? Or maybe just so haunted by his ghost that what he is–what he’s turned into–is irrelevant? Whether he be an apparition of your own imagining or a real monster twisted by the mirror world. Maybe he doesn’t have Eddie’s soul. But he has his face. His body. Is it so wrong to want him?

When he leans over you, you whimper, “Please.” 

He pouts at you in faux sympathy.

Is the mercy you seek defined by his departure? Or does your version of “mercy” mean letting him devour you like he’d promised?

When he flashes those pointed canines and a mischievous dimple carves into his cheek you have your answer. You no longer need to question or analyze your thoughts. You just want to feel. 

As Eddie leans in and strokes your cheek with the back of his index finger, you press gently into his touch. Feeling warm all over, buzzing with electricity. 

Strangely, you feel safe under his scrutinizing gaze. A crease forms between your brows as he leans in even closer. Your parted lips brush his tenderly. You might catch fire. 

Just as your eyes fall shut in anticipation of his kiss—your first with him in weeks—you hear his humorous scoff. Your face heats as your eyes open to find him leaning back. 

“Pathetic,” Eddie whispers. 

“I-” you’re not sure what you’re going to say in your defence, but he cuts you off anyway, with a curt: 

“Lie down.”

His hand is a firm pressure against the center of your chest, pushing you toward the ground after stooping down next to you. Your back presses into the cool dirt floor of the forest. 

Will he devour you now? Take you without another word? 

No. He isn’t done teasing you yet–another similarity between the human Eddie and the creature Eddie. Always itching to get you writhing and whining beneath him. Never satisfied until he could make you beg for it.

The hand that pushed you to the ground remains on your body, cold as it drags slowly down in quiet curiosity. As if feeling you for the first time, just getting used to the way your body curves and trembles beneath his touch.

Calloused fingertips just barely brush your tits on his way down, raising goosebumps beneath your top. When you gasp and arch into his hand imperceptibly, he pauses just as the rough skin of his palm ghosts over a sliver of your exposed belly, above your navel. 

His eyes flit to your chest, only remaining there for a single inhale before returning to his hand which continues to skate painstakingly down your body. Studying you.

The path of his hand ends at the edge of your skirt, caressing the skin there with a tender touch. You have to bite the inside of your lip to keep from making an embarrassing noise. Not wanting to seem too desperate. Although you’ve probably already failed at that.

“Eddie,” you sigh, head lolling over to look up at him. He meets your gaze, hand curving over your hip. 

Humming thoughtfully, Eddie tilts his head at you. Like you’re the one who’s become a creature. Morphing into a small thing, bursting with need and a deep desire to be taken care of. 

All the while, his hand continues its path down until he meets the skin of your thigh where he squeezes the doughy flesh roughly. Like he can feel the thrumming of your veins beneath your skin, yearning to take a bite out of you. 

“Oh, God.” Your skin tingles delightfully. A soft moan, as quiet as the sound of skin brushing against skin escapes your throat. 

The barest hint of a satisfied smile cracks his features. 

You may be so haunted by him that you’ll entertain this potential dream or nightmare, or whatever this is. But you are also undeniably desperate. To feel his touch on your skin again is transcendent. Like the very first time he touched you, it feels as though every single one of your nerves is exposed. Readily available for him to toy with. 

Excitement courses through your veins, a drug only able to be injected by his hand, as it curves over your leg. Hand pressing into the flesh of your inner thigh, he squeezes again, his blunt nails scratching sensitive skin. He pushes them open, giving him the easiest access to slide his hand up your skirt. 

When he finally tugs your panties down, and finds the soaked mess between your thighs, he releases a breathy, “Oh.”

Stroking his fingers through the mess, he says, “Look at this…”

Your hips flex when he dips gently into your dripping hole, collecting the sticky stuff before pulling his hand from you to put your desire on display. 

When his now sodden fingers come into view, and he pulls them apart to show you just how wet you are, you whine high in your throat. Embarrassed that you’re this worked up when he’s hardly done anything to elicit your lust. 

Thin lines connect his fingers, your essence seemingly sparkling in the moonlight as gentle waves of humiliation crash over you. Watching on as he savours the taste of you on his fingers, you huff impatiently. 

The moment his hand returns to your heat, his fingers swipe through your wetness again, dragging it to your sensitive clit where he rubs his middle finger in a dizzying circular motion, the slide smooth. Upon the second circuit of his fingers, you’re gushing around him, getting wetter by the second. A fire blazes in your belly and your hips twitch, finding it difficult to remain still when he’s working you up so. 

“Fuck, look at you. Could probably make you cum from just this,” he laughs, applying more pressure as he continues his torturous circles over that magic little button. 

The lewd sounds from your pussy fill the still night air as the lustful haze in his eyes grows more determined–his teeth sinking into his bottom lip in concentration. 

It’s all too much and on pure instinct your own hand wraps around the wrist of the hand up your skirt. That you’re still fully clothed—sans underwear—makes this feel all the more dirty. Let alone that you’re in the woods on the filthy ground, the exposed sliver of your back likely coated in a thin layer of dirt. 

Though your grip is loose on his wrist, he doesn’t let you get away with it. Grabbing both of your wrists in his free hand, he pins them above your head. 

“Stay,” he orders. 

You watch helplessly as he presses his two middle fingers into your pussy, curving them on the first stroke. If this were months ago, and Eddie had you like this in his bed, you might think the squeeze he gives your wrists—bound by his own hand–was an act of reassurance. Now, you know it is solely an act of dominance. I have you at my mercy. 

“Fuck,” you whimper. “Eddie…”

You forgot how nicely his fingers filled you. How you feel like a bright, burning star when he touches you like this. Deep and slow, like he’s forcing you to savour each stroke. How the tips of his fingers, longer than yours, caress parts of you that you couldn’t fathom. How he works in earnest to pull noises from you that you didn’t even know you could make. 

The pace he sets is simultaneously torturous and delicious, his aim clearly being to tease and overwhelm. Tears burn behind your eyes as his thumb rolls over your clit and you whine, that familiar feeling slowly beginning to build in your belly. Like you’re on the incline of a rollercoaster. 

“That feel good? Hm?” he asks with a syrupy tone as he watches you fuck yourself on his fingers like you’re in heat. With your hands pinned, it’s all you can do to writhe in his grasp.

“I-yes!” 

You’ve never seen him more smug and satisfied. 

“Yeah?” you nod furiously, mouth occupied by wanton moans. “I know, I know, baby…Know you’re dying to take my cock.” 

A delicious heat twists in your belly. “Please!” 

Before you reach the peak of your rollercoaster, he pulls his fingers from you, releasing your wrists simultaneously–though they remain above your head. You whine in protest, feeling suddenly cold and empty without a part of him inside of you. Though this feeling does not last for long as he moves quickly. 

Eagerly, Eddie swiftly removes his scabbard and undoes his jeans and fly, shoving them down just enough to free his cock. It bobs, hard and leaking so much pretty precum your mouth waters for it. Beautiful as ever. 

The sigh he releases when he strokes his dick is euphoric as he smears your wetness from base to tip. Already soaked with you. You shift your hips, fidgeting in place, impatient. Wishing it was your warm mouth encircling his girth instead of his own hand. 

Just as quickly as he’d tugged his jeans down, he’s on top of you again, slotting himself between your thighs before flipping your skirt up. Getting his first proper look at you. 

“Fuck, look at the mess you’ve made, sweetheart. All for me?” He says it like he’s mesmerized by the sight, eating up the way your body unabashedly calls for him. 

Grasping himself at the base, he lines himself up, your breathing growing shallow and quick. Anticipating the feeling of him inside you, desperate to feel every ridge and vein. The warmth as he fills you. 

You hold your breath. 

Meanly, he paints the flushed red tip up and down your soaked folds, causing you to whine and writhe against him. When it glances your clit you gasp and your hips jump as white hot pleasure zips up your spine. 

Your eyes are on high branches now, but you hear his low, satisfied chuckle. He wants for you to experience a unique kind of anguish before he rewards you for your perseverance. 

You’re about to lose it completely when he smacks the head of his cock heavily against your clit. The sticky sound it elicits is vulgar. It forces your eyes to roll into the back of your skull and groan. 

He is not merciful. But, eventually, he puts you out of your misery. A sharp inhale marks the moment he finally slides the first inch of his cock inside of you. 

Bracing for the inevitable fullness and slight sting that comes along with it proves unnecessary as he does not nudge himself any further. It only takes you a moment to realize he’s still teasing and you release another low whine. Just his weeping tip penetrates your fluttering hole, making your head spin.

He is going to make you earn it. 

“Jesus, it’s like she’s suckin’ me in,” he mutters under his breath in disbelief. “Beg for it, sweetheart.” 

You don’t waste any time. Not a single second before you begin to plead with him, cutting him off before he gets the pet name out. 

“Fuck me, Eddie! Need it so bad. So, so bad,” you mewl pathetically. “Please, please, please, please-” you might be embarrassed if you weren’t an absolute wreck, distraught on account of his teasing. Right on the edge of intense pleasure, feeling like you can’t take it anymore and might-

His cock sinks into you fully, not slowly but roughly. His heavy balls slap against your ass as he tugs your legs up to sheath himself even deeper inside of you. 

Twin groans float into the air, his eyes locked on yours. His become impossibly dark, like the slow spill of black ink across a page. Pleasure explodes in your belly as stars seemingly explode in the night sky. You are a live wire casting sparks in every direction. 

He is all that matters right now. The world could be ending around you, and you would be ignorant to it, lost in the feeling of his cock sliding home inside of you. 

His large palms pin your thighs back, as close to your chest as they can stretch while he stretches you out on his cock. And, fuck, is it a stretch after all these weeks. 

Your pleasure errs on the side of pain, but you savour it nonetheless and let him devour you. The sensations commingle and soon, you cannot tell the difference between the two. The pleasure is pain and the pain is pleasure. 

On a particularly rough thrust, as his balls collide with your ass with a sharp smack, you cry out, moaning his name freely into the open air. The sound gets trapped in the thick trees, as do his groans. 

For the first time since he pinned your hands to the ground, you wrap them around his neck, exploring his back, heavily textured by scars. Feeling the way his muscles flex beneath your hands as he continues to pound into you. Slowly, they find their way up into his hair, feeling his waves between your fingers. Somehow soft and knotted at the same time. 

But he doesn’t let your hands roam free for too long before pinning them back above your head again, one palm still pressing firmly into the back of your right thigh. When you try to wrap your legs around his waist, he simply presses them back toward your chest, his throbbing cock reaching deeper inside of you as the obscene squelching sounds amplify. 

Your own sounds rival the distant symphony of insects–somewhere far off in the meadow, the chirping crickets and singing cicadas are drowned out by your moans. The tiny creatures may as well be silent with how loud your wails have become. But how could you be quiet when you can feel him in your belly?

“Take it,” he growls, as if you are not laying here fucking yourself back onto his throbbing dick. Meeting his deep thrusts with your own, feeling his tip kiss your cervix and whining. “Tell me how good my cock feels inside of you.”

All you can do is whine and gaze up at him, barely registering his words as your heart unexpectedly swells at the sight of his gorgeous, pleasure-stricken features. 

Every minute detail is identical to your Eddie. Every freckle–including the tiny one just below his eye. His cheeky dimples. The sparse trail of hair below his navel that you used to trail your tongue down, causing his hips to jump in response.

Predictably, you get lost in his beauty and the overwhelming sensations, barely recognizing when his hand abandons the task of binding your wrists. Abruptly, you are snapped back to the moment when that same hand lands a sharp slap to your clit. It only causes you to squeal, your pussy fluttering around his dick as the sting quickly merges into pleasure. You get more lost in the haze of dizzying pleasure-pain.

Realizing that he only succeeded in further blurring your thoughts, Eddie grasps your face in one large hand. He squishes your cheeks until your lips pucker, smearing your wetness across your face. “Tell me.”

Dizzying pleasure continues to cloud your mind, making it difficult to recall what he’s asking of you, let alone produce a response. 

You must take too long to answer as he squishes harder, your teeth pressing harshly against the inside of your cheeks. The feeling borders on pain, causing you to whimper again as heat sinks into your belly. 

With a jolt, you remember what his question was.“Tell. Me.”

He needs to know. 

“It’s g-” you choke when he thrusts deep, kissing that sweet spot deep inside. 

With the hand still gripping your cheeks, he shakes your head a little, like he’s trying to shake the thought free. “Huh?”

“Good!” you squeal. “L-love your cock!”

“You ‘L-love’ it?” Eddie laughs dryly, clearly enjoying the praise and the way you struggle to give it to him. 

That sweet humiliation warms your chest, feeling almost as good as the way he presses inside of you. Hot and heavy. 

You agree with a moan, lacking the wherewithal to respond coherently. When he removes his hand from your face, it travels to grope your tits greedily over your thin top. Arching into his touch, you close your eyes and revel in the sweet sensation. 

His groans and the filthy sound of skin slapping against skin fill your ears as he repeatedly strokes that wonderful spot inside of you. Pleasure bursts in vivid colour behind your eyelids.

When his hand travels further down your body, middle and marriage fingers pressing into that tender bundle of nerves at the top of your cunt, your pleasure surges to new heights. The coil which has been tightening slowly while he fucks you threatens to snap. 

Pace slowing in favour of deep, calculated thrusts, Eddie leans down to your ear. “Gonna make such a mess of you,” he whispers, sending shivers straight down your spine. The promise is like molten lava on your skin. 

More reckless moans spill from your lips as he nips at your earlobe, then drags his teeth slowly down your neck. A reminder that he could easily sink his teeth into your flesh. It sends a thrill through your body–not unlike the one that licked at your spine as he hunted you through the woods. 

“Promise?” you ask breathlessly. A fucked-out smile on your face. 

He stares hungrily, longingly, at your neck for just a moment before returning to your eyes after registering your words. A challenge that quirks his brow. 

Bracing himself with an elbow dug in the dirt, his pace quickens again as he works furiously at your clit. His rhythm is clumsy, but successful at continuing to send shockwaves of twisted pleasure through your body. His hips slam so hard against you that it would be unsurprising to find light green bruises pressed into your ass tomorrow morning. 

You gasp, tossing your head back on a particularly deep and perfectly angled thrust. He dangles you over the cliff’s edge, keeping you on the precipice of release. It’s all you can do to tighten your hands into fists as you twist your them in his unrelenting grasp. 

He doesn’t even have to ask you to beg this time. The pleas for release simply tumble out of your mouth with little thought. “Please! Gonna cum, Eddie! Please, please can I cum?”

Hot, overwhelmed tears threaten to spill over in anticipation of his permission. You doubt you’ll be able to hold on much longer with that perfect pressure on your clit and incredible fullness. His heavy panting indicates he isn’t far behind you. 

“Cum all over my cock…Let me ruin you for anyone else.” He’s breathless as he says it. 

It’s his words that inevitably shove you over the edge, pleasure swelling inside of you. Your clit numbs and you cry out, cunt clenching around him as you drench his cock. It is not a soft, gentle climax that graces your body, but an intense thing that seems to carry on forever. 

“I love you,” you whisper into the cool night air, your body still twitching with your orgasm as tears slip down your cheeks. The phrase so easily blurts from you and it’s then that he groans and begins to spill inside of you too. Face pressed into your neck as he shoots hot spurts of cum into your cunt. Rope after rope of the stuff, warming your belly fulfillingly. 

His thrusts slow and eventually stop as he collapses on top of you. 

Aftershocks flow through you in raw, euphoric waves as you pant into his curls. A sated smile tugs at your mouth and you tremble against him, boneless when he’s done with you. A blissful giggle escapes your throat. 

The both of you lay there for moments, just listening to each other’s heartbeats slow as the insect’s song replaces your moans. The moon gleams in the sky, spinning stars winking at you.

All too soon Eddie pulls away from your neck and observes the damage. You’re sure he finds he succeeded in making a mess of you. Your wetness still smeared across your cheek, hair completely mussed, and your bottom half covered in dirt as you draw in heaving breaths, still coming down from your mind-numbing orgasm.

There’s a small smirk that reaches his eyes more than his mouth before he tugs his hand from between your bodies. Lewdly, he shoves his two middle fingers between your lips. “Hmph!” 

Once the surprise wears off and you cup his hand in both of yours, you allow your eyes to drift shut. The mild taste of your own cum pervades your mouth as he presses his fingers deeper. Your tongue swirls around them, sucking softly. He continues to test the waters, pressing in further until the pads of his fingers grace the back of your tongue, causing you to gag lightly around them. When he pulls them out, they’re wetter than before. He smears the spit over your cheeks, just as he had done with your wetness. An act of dominance which leaves you breathless and twists your stomach into knots.

As you open your eyes, you watch him push himself away from you, sitting back on his haunches. 

“Clean up your mess.” The meaning of his statement only briefly eludes you. 

With wobbly limbs you stumble a step or two on your knees closer to him, intoxicated by your co-mingling scents before his palm finds the crown of your head and he presses you down against him. 

You gaze lovingly up at him and you’re sure the sight from above is simply obscene. 

It’s been too long since you’ve done this which makes it all the more satisfying when your lips wrap around his slowly softening cock. The gentle weight of him in your mouth, the best feeling in the world. Warm and heavy on your tongue as the salty taste of his cum graces your tastebuds and the musky scent of him reaches your nose. 

He inhales sharply on the first suck, then groans as he pushes your head down more. The scent of him here–with your nose nearly nestled against the dark curls above his dick–is dizzying. You try not to gag around him this time before he lets up a bit and allows you to move more freely, greedily licking up your combined juices as his warm cum slowly drips down your thighs. 

Eddie allows you to slurp happily up and down his cock for a few more moments before he decides you’ve cleaned him up sufficiently. When he pulls you off, wetness drips down your chin. He thumbs at the spit there and you watch as he licks it off his own thumb, like he’s savouring chocolate ice cream that dripped off the cone. 

Then, he pets the top of your head gently in appreciation. “Good girl.” 

Your heart simply glows in your ribcage. This blooming feeling is quickly stamped out and replaced with rising panic when he goes to leave. Your heart reaches out for him and comes up empty, as it had when the life had drained from his eyes. It is not the panic from before which left you frightful at the prospect of being caught between claws and sharp teeth. But a panic which urges you to capture him, to keep him in your grasp, even if just for a little while longer. 

When you catch his wrist, he spins around and bares his teeth like an abused animal anticipating harm and hurt–one who has never experienced a soft touch. What’s happened to him? What has he gone through these past few weeks while you’ve been grieving him, unable to eat or sleep or think at all? 

Now that you’ve had him, back again in your arms with a beating heart and warm skin, you couldn’t bear to part with him again. 

This panic, the terror of being clouded with grief again, is what drives you to stutter out, “W-will I see you again?”

Guarded features soften a touch as he stares into your face, trying to determine your motivations. To decipher that hopeful look in your eyes. 

When he leans down to caress your chin softly, you know he’s come to a conclusion. You look imploringly from his left to his right eye, awaiting his response as your heart hammers in your chest. 

"On the next night that the fog creeps over the hills...maybe I'll sneak into your bedroom...and devour you."

You sigh as he gently licks your top lip, close enough now that you could kiss him easily. 

Gently, he grabs your face, his thumb resting on one cheek and his other four fingers on the other. Just before he kisses you you ask him softly, lips brushing, “Promise?”

It’s then he presses his lips to yours, and it’s almost tender before he drags his teeth over your bottom one. A final kiss is pressed to your mouth, soothing the gentle sting that you savour. 

For the briefest of moments you linger in the feeling after he’s pulled away. 

And when you open your eyes, he’s disappeared into the fog. Evaporated into the mist. And it’s like he whispers back to you, Promise.

⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆

You wait for him.

All the while, thinking only of him and nothing else. It’s like your grief has intensified—worse the second time around—and after a while you begin to wonder whether you imagined the whole thing. It isn’t much of a stretch to say so. 

After he died, you often took to lying in bed for all hours of the day, staring out the window and watching the shadows grow long before drifting off into a fitful slumber. Tortured by your grief, even in sleep. 

Could it have all been a dream? 

As the days and weeks stretch on and you begin to question your grasp on reality—you return to this schedule. Lying in bed. Watching the world move as you remain still. Nightmares. Repeat. 

You always dreamt of him. Nothing else. Watching the light drain from his eyes. The blood pool around his body. 

He rots until he becomes pearly white bones. And the skeleton comes to life, badgers you with questions. He would ask you, Why didn’t you save me? Why aren’t you dead instead? This is all your fault! I’ll never forgive you!

Your encounter in the woods must have never occurred. It was just another fucked up way for you to torture yourself over his death.

Some nights you never slept, trying to keep the nightmares at bay. And, despite yourself, watched desperately for the fog to roll in. 

It’s weeks before the fog returns to Hawkins.

When it does, and you hear the slow and steady creak of your window being opened as you lie in bed, you know it was all real. 

And Eddie kept his promise. 

Thank you so much for reading!! Please reblog and let me know what you thought!

[crybabyddl]

Heat Above

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Reader and Eddie love getting high together. Their routine smoke sesh looks a little different tonight.

Warning: marijuana use, swearing, sexual tension, friends to lovers, fluff, mentions of alcohol & nicotine, 18+ content. MDNI.

Author's Note: Hi friends! I can't get the thought of smoking in Eddie's van out of my mind, probably because I want to get high so freaking bad. It's not fair that I didn't get to smoke on 4/20, so I'm writing this until I can go out to smoke with some friends or find some time to be alone so I can smoke without a lecture. I know it's probably not good for me, but living isn't really good for me either atp, so what's the big deal if I smoke a joint? lol... As for the oneshot, Eddie and the reader are in their 20s. Btw, shooters are the mini, hotel-sized alcohol bottles. They're also sometimes called nips or singles.

"Can I light it this time?" You ask eagerly, your sneakers kicking up dust from the gravel below.

"Sure, just be careful," Eddie warns as he hands you a lighter and the joint he just rolled. "It's windy and I don't want your hair catching on fire."

You give a lighthearted scoff before looking down at the lighter your friend handed to you. It's one of yours that Eddie "forgot" to give back—Animal from The Muppets wearing a leather jacket and holding a wooden drumstick. You don't have the heart to steal it back from him, knowing it suits him perfectly and that you'll see it the next time you smoke together.

Placing the filtered tip of the expertly rolled cone in your mouth, you sparked up the lighter, bringing it towards the end of the joint. Just before it catches, the wind blows out the flame. You try once more, only to be defeated by nature yet again. After the fifth attempt, Eddie notices and cups his hands near the lighter, sheltering it from the wind.

"This is why I'm usually the one who lights it." he remarks in a snarky, but playful tone.

"Oh shut up, it's just windy. I need to be able to smoke without your help at some point, you know." You elbow him sharply, eventually forfeiting the supplies to his ringed fingers.

"Smoke without me? You couldn't roll a joint to save your life!"

You narrow your eyes at Eddie.

"Hate to break it to you, but pre-rolls exist."

Eddie puts the joint to his lips, lighting it with ease. He takes a long drag before exhaling a long, narrow stream of smoke. You watch as it dissipates in the air. The wispy trail from the joint is still active as he holds the weed out to you.

"Not for free they don't," he retorts as you inhale. "Unless, of course, you get them from me."

He wasn't wrong; Eddie had been smoking you out free of charge for almost three months now. Sure, it was only on weekends, but you'd grown accustomed to the routine. Every Friday night, he'd pick you up from work in his shitty van, drive to the lookout point on Lover's Lake, and the two of you would swap customer service horror stories over a joint. Occasionally, he'd bring a vape or a paper bag of shooters, but the weed was always the preferred poison for your hangouts.

You roll your eyes as you exhale.

"I just want to learn how to do it all myself, I'd still smoke with you Eds."

Eddie holds out his thumb and index finger, anticipating the passing of the joint, but you decide to take another hit before handing it off.

The silence between you two is filled with the sounds of crickets and cicadas. As gross as bugs were, you were grateful for the summer nights filled with their songs.

You and Eddie continue smoking wordlessly, looking up at the stars, down at the moonlight reflecting on the lake, and across the trees as smoke dances past the the leaves rustling in the warm, windy air.

"Eds? Since when do you call me that?"

You shrug.

"I dunno, 'm just high."

"Okay." he lets out a loud sigh, louder than he intended.

"You good?" you ask him, slightly chuckling at his dramatic behavior.

"What? Yeah, I was just thinking and breathing at the same time."

"Not really sure what that means, but okay."

You pluck the joint from his fingers, bringing it to your lips and savoring the feeling you're experiencing right here and now. You loved not having to worry about anything, getting to be in nature with a person whose company you enjoyed, with nothing waiting to be done and nobody needing you for a favor. You wished life could always be like this—reality hazy, senses and appreciation elevated. You look over at Eddie, the glint of his rings capturing your attention. You trail your fingers across his knuckles, the texture, temperature, and visual stimulation of his jewelry making you feel light and slightly anticipatory.

"Is it the rings again?" Eddie looks down at his left hand, then up at you, your eyes practically aglow. The joint's cherry dims as you continue to hold it, forgotten now that your mind had drifted to Eddie.

You nodded with a hum.

"Where do you get 'em?" you ask, spinning the silver band on his middle finger around to read the words etched into it. LOVE IS FATAL

"I get most of them at the antique and thrift store on Greenview, but this one," he points to his ring finger. "Is my class ring."

"Hawkins High. I bet you were trouble back in high school, weren't you?" you laugh.

"You bet. I was the freak who played D&D, automatic bully magnet."

"What kind of magnet are you now?"

"Hmm... maybe a stoner magnet?" he smiled; not an uncommon occurrence, but one that delighted you. It's like he knew exactly how to charm you, have you hooked on every word, all done in a seemingly effortless way.

"I think so." you laughed somewhat halfheartedly. You were distracted by the simple, but thought-provoking ring once again.

LOVE IS FATAL

Is that what this was? Was that what you'd been feeling the past few weeks whenever you were with Eddie? Sure, you loved him as a close friend. You'd always have his back and knew you could trust him to do the same. But the feeling in your lower chest, the anxious and excited, almost scared fluttering along your fingertips, your toes, along the inside of your thighs... It surely felt fatal. But was it love?

"Something on your mind?" his voice cuts through your heart-shaped cloud of thoughts. He plucks the dull joint from you, nestling the tip between his lips. You watch him intently as he relights it, focusing on the way his brown eyes shine from the glow of the flame.

Unsure of what to say, you give him a simple "Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Maybe."

"What am I supposed to gather from that?"

"Maybe, it's none of your business."

"Well sue me for trying to talk to you. Jesus."

"Calm down, I just didn't know what to tell you, okay? Damn," you accept Eddie's offering of the joint, taking a hit and blowing it in his face, feigning obliviousness. "And people say women are dramatic, ha."

"You know you can tell me anything, right? I'll always hear you out, even when you blow smoke in my face like a dick," he takes what is hardly more than the filter tip, and smokes whatever is left of the joint. "Did you want more, or are you good?"

"I think I'm okay for now. Might ask for the penjamin in a little bit, though." you reply, your voice mellow and raspy.

The weed is definitely getting to you now, and it really wants your brain to harp on the way Eddie's hands look right now. They look the same as they always do, but that stupid ring is practically mocking you with its facetious warning.

You didn't love Eddie as anything more than a friend, you knew that. But for some reason, your brain was getting scrambled by his presence, making you question if that belief was subject to change at some point down the line. Eddie's attractive—no doubt about it. You felt that way from the day you first met him.

Six months ago, your friends invited you out for drinks. You were chatting up a storm, having a grand old time. Prone to people-watching, your eyes wandered the bar, looking for something interesting to make up narratives in your head about. They landed on a tall, leather jacket-clad man with an unruly head of hair. Nothing about him stood out necessarily, but you'd always had a thing for the vibe of a bad boy in a leather jacket. Plus, a nice face never hurt. Middle school you was thanking you for finally making friends, leading you to this moment—this man. But just like back in those days, you were far too nervous to ever work up the courage to talk to him, let alone any other stranger at a bar.

However, one of your friends had caught you staring off, and with Robin being Robin, she wasn't going to let you off the hook. Her teasing was almost unbearable, up until she'd asked whom exactly you'd been looking at. When you tilted your head towards the guy, her teasing ceased.

"Him?"

You nodded.

"I know him! That's Eddie. We went to high school together. I can introduce you, if you'd like."

"That's okay, Robin, I don't–"

Before you could protest, your friend had set off in his direction, loudly calling out his name.

Thanks to the—albeit small—amount of alcohol in your system, your typical response of freezing was out of service. You instead opted to ask the bartender for another shot—it didn't matter what, just something alcoholic and not totally disgusting. As soon as it was placed in front of you, you threw the shot back. Raspberry vodka. That'd do. As if on cue, Robin reappeared, dragging behind her the man in the leather jacket.

She sang out your name excitedly.

"This is Eddie. We went to high school together." she introduced you to Eddie as her 'best friend' and along with herself and Steve, a 'Scoops Ahoy survivor'.

You and Eddie exchanged pleasantries, asked about jobs and hobbies, all the usual elements of small talk. Before the air turned awkward, Robin suggested taking shots. You weren't anything beyond tipsy, so you joined in the fun, taking shots of whatever your friend had ordered.

Talking with Eddie was thankfully easy. You discovered that he was more interesting than the narrative you started creating in your head when you first laid eyes on him. He played guitar, he was working as an auto mechanic, and he played Dungeons and Dragons. Robin begged him to let her and Steve take part in his latest campaign, and after an ambush of pleas, he gave in to her request.

You asked Eddie about the game itself, and about his plans for his upcoming campaign. It was actually quite interesting, and you were a bit jealous that Robin and Steve would get to create characters to go on the journey. Your jealousy didn't last long once Eddie asked if you wanted to join. With sheepish acceptance, you took Eddie up on the offer.

Two weeks later, you, Robin, Steve, their friends from high school, a few of those friends' siblings, and some of their siblings' friends all gathered in the Wheelers' basement for the D&D campaign. Eddie mentioned that while most campaigns lasted over several meetings, this one was designed to cater to everyone's busy schedules, and could be completed in one session. Over the following three hours, everyone laughed, gasped, yelled, and enjoyed the twists, turns, betrayals, and challenges that came with Eddie's campaign. You'd spent the entire week leading up to that night reading up on D&D and creating your character. Finally getting to expand on your druid's story was as rewarding as it was exciting.

After that night, you and everyone who participated in the campaign exchanged information to stay in touch. Nancy told everyone to text her when they got home safely, so you made a mental note to do just that. After a short drive, you flopped on your bed with a satisfied sigh. You never thought playing such a "nerdy" game would be so entertaining. You enjoyed yourself much more than you had anticipated, and found yourself imagining what your character would do in other situations, or what kind of character you would create for different campaigns.

After changing into your pajamas and getting ready for bed, you texted Nancy to let her know you made it home and thanked her for hosting. You decided to send a text to Eddie as well, thanking him for the great campaign and for inviting you to play. You turned off your phone, only for it to buzz immediately after setting it down on your nightstand. It was a notification that Nancy had given your text a thumbs up. She was probably getting bombarded with texts similar to the one you had sent, so you took that as her response, setting your phone back down. Just as before, your phone vibrated, prompting you to retrieve the piece of technology once again. This time, it was a text from Eddie.

eddie: so glad u enjoyed it :) it was nice having u there

You stared at the words on your screen, thinking of how to respond, when another text came in.

eddie: for a dnd virgin u did a great job with ur character. wasn't expecting a druid in the party for this campaign but it worked out

You couldn't help but laugh at the phrase 'dnd virgin'.

you: aren't most dnd players virgins? jk i knew what u meant

you: are you working on another campaign?

eddie: maybe... why

eddie: u wanna be in the next one?

you: fuck yeah! i had so much fun

you: way more fun than i was expecting tbh eddie: glad to hear it :) eddie: it was fun making it and seeing it play out you: idk how i'm supposed to sleep after that i'm so pumped lol eddie: idk either. might smoke and look at the stars. pretty clear out tonight

you: luckyyyy i wanna smoke eddie: why cant u? you: i dont have any weed :(

you: i'm not asking u for weed btw. i had to pay rent and the dispensary near me is so overpriced so i have to wait until payday thursday 😅 eddie: u wanna smoke with me? i have a shit ton of weed you: that might be fun... how much for a joint? eddie: 35 you: $35? eddie: yup you: is that with or without the friend discount?

eddie: without you: ouch. do i not qualify for the friend discount? eddie: if u come over and smoke with me i'll give u the friend discount you: deal. you: where do u live? eddie: *shared his location with you* you: be there in 15.

Here you were, a woman in her 20s, driving to buy weed from a guy you barely knew. You knew you could trust Eddie, otherwise Robin wouldn't be friends with him. That didn't do much to settle the uneasiness you felt in your stomach as you approached the door to his trailer, the automatic porch light bathing you in its shine. You rapped on the door with your knuckles. After a minute or two, you figured you didn't knock loudly enough. You repeated your actions with a bit more force, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you smoothed out your skirt. You looked at the message where Eddie shared his location with you, making sure you were at the right place. After a couple more minutes, you texted him.

you: i'm here :)

You heard some sort of clattering from inside the trailer, followed by the interior door opening. A man that wasn't Eddie jolted at the sight of you. Your felt your face heat up. You'd gone to the wrong house.

"Can I help you?" the man, probably in his late 50s, asks through the screen of the exterior door.

"Sorry, I think I have the wrong house. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Who are you looking for?"

"Wayne, if someone comes to the door, I'll get it! I'm expecting someone to drop off my wallet, I left it at the Wheelers'!" you hear Eddie's muffled shouting from somewhere out of sight.

"He's left his wallet at the Wheelers' three times this week," the man, Wayne, tells you with a furrowed brow. "Kid thinks I don't know he's smoking," he pauses. "Must also think I don't have a nose!" he laughs with a wheeze before coughing into his elbow. "Sorry, my lungs ain't what they used to be. I'm Wayne."

After assuring Wayne it's alright, you tell him your name. Before any small talk ensues, you feel your phone buzz with a text from Eddie.

eddie: shit gimme 5 minutes. don't knock i'll come outside

Oops.

Wayne seems to have experienced this exact routine a few times before. The weary, yet slightly amused look in his eyes tells you as much.

"He thinks I'm gonna embarrass 'im. Ever consider he might be the one embarrassin' me?" you can't help but smile at his words. "Humor me for a moment, kiddo." Wayne gives you a wink before shaking out his shoulders as though he was warming up for something. "Who's coming over?" he shouts over his shoulder.

"A friend! They're just dropping off my wallet!" Eddie shouts back, voice still distant.

"What's your friend's name?"

"Dustin!"

"Dustin who?"

"Dustin Henderson! He's from Hellfire Club!"

"Curly haired kid?"

"Yes!"

"Are you lying to me, boy?"

"No, Uncle Wayne!"

"I must say, Dustin's got some cute shoes!"

"The fuck?!" you hear loud footsteps approaching before Eddie finally enters your field of vision.

"Maybe if you stopped lyin' to your uncle, you wouldn't have to be embarrassed every time you bring a friend over."

"I'm so sorry about him, I forgot to give him his dementia meds." Eddie glares at his uncle while gritting his teeth.

"If I have dementia, you've got somethin' worse!"

"I'm leaving! Don't wait up for me!"

"I never do!" Wayne ends the banter with a laugh. "Nice to meet you." he says. You tell him the same and wave goodbye before he shuts the door.

Eddie remains silent as he unlocks his van, opening the passenger's side door for you. You thank him before climbing in and closing the door.

"Sorry about that. My uncle's a pain in the ass." he finally says with a sigh after getting in the driver's seat.

"I like him, he's funny," you admit. "Was I supposed to bring your wallet? I didn't know you left it at Nancy's."

"What? Oh, no, I just said that to try and get Wayne off my back. He always tries to embarrass me when my friends come over. You're the first girl he's seen me bring around, so he saw an opportunity to strike gold."

"Not much of a heartbreaker? That's surprising." you comment thoughtlessly.

It's only after Eddie's response that you realize what your words could be implying.

"How so?"

"I just mean, you know," you look over at Eddie as you try to formulate the rest of your sentence, only to be met with a quirked eyebrow and a shake of his untamed hair. "You play guitar, you smoke, you make epic D&D campaigns, you wear cool rings and a leather jacket..."

"It may come as a shock to you, but some people find that stuff scary, especially in a place like Hawkins. If you're not wearing a letterman jacket and blue jeans, you're an alien."

"Maybe it's just me, but I'd prefer aliens over a stick in my ass." Eddie laughs at your comment, and you can't help but join him. You take in the details of his face; how his smile just about lights up the van, how his eyes crinkle in the corners and his nose scrunches for a brief second while he chuckles.

"Me too, me too," Eddie smiles to himself as he turns away from you to grab his seatbelt. "You wanna drive over to the lake and smoke this j?"

"Yes, please."

"Music?"

"Absolutely. Whatever you've got in there is fine with me."

Just loud enough to feel like you're in a movie where the main character drives along the California coast with her head out the window to a song that perfectly embodies her whirlwind of a journey, Greta Van Fleet's 'Heat Above' fills your ears. You allow yourself to embrace the cinematic moment, letting your arm find its way out the window as you make flowing waves with your wrist.

As your eyes take in the light from the full moon bouncing off the lake, Eddie briefly takes his eyes off the road to look at you, subconsciously lifting his foot off the gas. He wishes he could take a picture of you in this moment. You look so free, and he can just tell that it's a feeling you haven't allowed yourself to feel for a while. He can just imagine the scene playing out before him, captured in a polaroid that he'd keep in an old cigar box. Maybe he'd dig it up 30 years from now, telling his kids that he took a picture of a friend that he never saw again. It was poetic, but Eddie had a feeling he'd be seeing more of you after tonight, not less.

It's in the middle of 'Age of Machine' when Eddie reaches his favorite lookout spot. It also happens to be the perfect place to smoke on a clear summer night, tonight.

He opens the door for you, offering his hand for you to hold onto as you step out of the vehicle. Retrieving the joint from his pocket, Eddie holds it out to you.

"It's called Watermelon Diesel. Hybrid of indica and sativa. Rolled it myself."

"Wow, you're good. Every joint I've smoked looked like shit."

"All depends on who rolled it. Took me a lot of practice to get them looking like this."

"How much did you say? $35?"

"Yeah, but don't forget the friend discount."

"Right, how much with the discount?"

"You get half the joint for free."

"Huh?"

"You get half the joint-"

"I heard you. So you're making me pay $35 for half the joint? Or do I only pay $17.50 to smoke half of the joint, and I smoke the rest of it for free?"

"Neither."

"What?"

"The friend discount means you get to share this joint with me, and it's free."

"Oh, okay. Well what if I wanted a full joint for myself?"

"Do you?"

"No, but I'm asking what if I did?"

"Well I'd roll you one for yourself. You scared you'll get cooties or something?"

"No, I'm fine sharing one. I just don't understand the discount."

"The friend discount means you smoke for free. I said half, because I'll be smoking with you."

"Oh. I think I get it now."

"Good, now that that's out of the way, get ready to hear Greta Van Fleet in supersonic bliss."

Eddie opens the side sliding door of his van, grabbing something folded up in the back corner. It's an air mattress and pump. After five minutes, he's set up a cozy little smoke spot. You both take off your shoes and climb into the van, ready to get high.

Turns out, you and Eddie had a lot more in common than you'd realized. You were both outcasts in high school, never went to college, fans of rock music, and thanks to your newly found interest in D&D, it was safe to say you were just as nerdy as he was.

You couldn't help but wonder if Eddie found you attractive in the same way you did him. He'd always compliment your outfits when you would go for a night out with the gang, but it was never anything other than friendly. You were fine with that, of course, but that didn't stop your curiosity from blooming. Now was as good a time as any to find out, especially since Eddie had just reassured you that you could tell him anything.

"I probably sound lame for asking this, but am I attractive?"

"Yeah, you are. It's not lame, but why do you ask?"

"I dunno, I just was thinking about the first time we met. I found you attractive." you admit, shrugging as you fall back onto the air mattress. You can see the branches of the pine trees billowing in the breeze, adding to your high.

"You did?" you nod. "Like, in the past tense?"

"I mean, I thought you were attractive back then, and you look the same to me now, so no, I'd say it's more like an always thing."

"Well gee, thanks," Eddie rubs the back of his neck. You don't notice how flustered he is, you're too far out. "Yeah, I thought you were pretty when I saw you for the first time. Still think you're pretty."

"Thanks," you reply, bumping into his side before grabbing his shoulders and pulling him to lay down beside you. "I like smoking with you."

"Ditto."

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"I don't know, can you?"

"Asshole," you mutter. "Never mind."

"No, wait!" Eddie whines, sitting up. "Tell meeee!"

"Ugh, fine!" your annoyance is fictional, but you couldn't help teasing Eddie. "I like your rings, like, a lot."

Eddie scoffs.

"That's not a secret!"

You sit up in objection.

"Sure it is!"

"How? Whenever we smoke, you always fiddle with my rings! I'd be blind to think you felt any other way about them!"

"Okay, yeah, but you don't know the reason why I like them so much!" you boasted.

"You've told me about a hundred times. You like the designs, that they're shiny, that most of them can fit on your fingers too, and you like that I take such good care of them."

"Wow, I didn't know you paid that much attention when I talked."

"What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?" he smiled, and it almost made you angry. How could anyone have such a nice mouth? And to make things worse, he was attentive, kind, and liked being around you. In your current state, the lines between friend and boyfriend seemed blurrier than ever.

"A shitty one? Anyway-"

"Was there some other reason that you were going to tell me about?"

"Yes!" you found yourself a bit too eager to chime in. "Yes. I was going to say that one of the reasons I also like your rings is because they make your hands look sexy."

"They make my hands look... sexy?"

"Mhmm. I'm not entirely sure why, but the rings make your fingers look really nice, and then with the veins on the top of your hands, and the fact you play guitar, it all kind of adds up to this sexy vibe."

"Does it now?"

"It does, it always has. That's why I get so nervous when you play guitar around me."

"Well, shit. This whole time I was worried you thought I sucked!"

"No, not at all! If anything, you're too good at it! I don't want you to think I'm a weirdo who has some sort of hand fetish, because I don't. You just happen to have nice hands and I like to tell people how I feel. You happen to be my very good friend, so that means I'm always gonna hype you up. Not unrealistically, though. Maybe biased, but always truthful."

Your candor has Eddie struggling to stifle a laugh.

"You seem really... passionate about this." he chortles.

"Is this funny to you? I'm pouring my innermost thoughts and feelings to you, and you're gonna laugh? Rude." You huff and cross your arms, turning away from Eddie.

"No, no! Please don't ignore me, I'm sorry. It's just cute to see you get all mushy and sweet."

"Cute? Eddie, I'm a grown woman, I'm not cute."

"What, you want me to tell you that I think it's sexy when I catch you staring at my rings? That I have to fight off a boner every time you take my hand and start playing with my rings and my fingers?"

Eddie brings a hand to your shoulder, and you can feel the chill of his rings against your clavicle.

"Eddie-"

"Do you know how long I've wanted to lay you down on this stupid air mattress and kiss you?" All you can manage in that moment is a shake of your head. "A long time."

"Would you like to?" you ask softly, not trusting your voice to say much else beyond that.

"God, yes."

Eddie gently guides you to lie down on your back, supported by the pillows on the edge of the mattress. He maneuvers himself so that he's kneeling over you, your faces inches apart. He slowly draws nearer, eyeing you nervously. He's taking his time, allowing you the option to push him away or to say that this isn't what you really want. But it is.

The moment you finally feel his lips on yours, you can't be bothered to take things slow. You deepen the kiss, hoping to make up for lost time. It had taken months to get to this point, and you knew that there was no turning back. Obviously, Eddie was a good enough friend that you'd still be able to hang out and smoke like any other time even if things didn't work out. But you had a feeling that things would only get better from here.

"Can I please touch you?"

Eddie grins.

"How could I say no?"

[pankowcrumbs]

You wanna kiss me X Eddie Munson

MasterList

Stranger Things and Cast Masterlist

If there was a record for the worst day to come home early, I’d just shattered it.

I’d planned to curl up with my book and a bag of crisps, maybe watch a bit of Doctor Who while the house was empty. But the universe clearly had other plans.

As soon as I pushed open the front door of the Harrington household, I was greeted by noise. Loud, obnoxious, cackling laughter that echoed down the hall like a thunderclap. I followed the sound, already regretting my decision to come home.

Sure enough, there they were. The Motley Crew. Robin sprawled out on the floor with a bowl of popcorn on her chest like some sort of offering to the gods. Nancy perched primly on the arm of the sofa, giggling into her hand. And my lovely twin brother, Steve, looking far too pleased with himself, clearly enjoying the chaos.

And then, in the middle of it all, feet up on our coffee table, rings glinting in the dim light, sat Eddie bloody Munson.

Ugh.

He caught sight of me first, tossing his head dramatically like I’d just walked in and ruined his one-man show. “Ohhh look who it is,” he announced, voice dripping with mockery. “The Lady of the Manor returns!”

“Oh, brilliant,” I muttered, brushing past him toward the kitchen. “Didn’t realise we were hosting the village idiot today.”

Robin snorted from the floor. Steve just sighed.

“Oi, play nice,” Steve warned, but I could already hear the grin in his voice. He lived for this. Loved watching me and Eddie wind each other up like kids in the playground. I’d never understand it.

“Just saying,” Eddie called after me, “you should be thanking me. I bring vibes to this house. Energy. Spice.”

“You bring a migraine,” I shot back, yanking open the fridge. Nothing exciting. Milk, a half-eaten yoghurt, and something that might’ve once been lasagne. Great.

“Do I live rent-free in your head, sweetheart?” he called, still far too smug for someone wearing a Hellfire tee with a suspicious-looking mustard stain on the hem.

I poked my head round the corner. “You wish. I don’t make time in my day for trolls.”

He gasped, hand over his heart like I’d personally wounded him. “A troll? This face? Rude. Uncalled for. Deeply offensive.”

“You are offensive,” I said, walking back in with a can of Coke, trying not to notice the way he watched me with that annoyingly amused look in his eyes. Like he’d already decided how this conversation would go, and it would end with me wanting to scream.

Steve groaned. “Can you two not start, please? Just sit down, shut up, and be nice humans.”

“That’s a big ask,” Robin mumbled from the floor.

“Oh, c’mon Stevie,” Eddie said, tossing a piece of popcorn at his head. “You can’t tell me this isn’t the highlight of your day. Watching little miss sunshine try not to fall madly in love with me.”

I nearly choked on my drink. “What?”

“Sorry,” Nancy said, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “But that was kind of hilarious.”

Eddie looked far too pleased with himself, the absolute menace. “You should see the way she looks at me when she thinks no one’s watching.”

“I look at you like I’m trying to set you on fire with my eyes,” I snapped.

“Exactly.” He winked. WINKED. “Hot.”

“You are insufferable.”

“You are obsessed with me.”

“Alright, that’s it” I lunged for him, fully prepared to yank the smugness right off his face, but he leapt off the couch and danced out of my reach, laughing like a maniac.

“What is your damage, Munson?”

“Oh, I dunno,” he said, hands up in surrender, but that bloody smirk never left his face. “Maybe I just love winding you up. You’re like a little wind-up toy. So easy to push. So cute when you're angry.”

I nearly screamed. “I’m going to kill you.”

“You’re going to kiss me.”

And that was the moment everything froze.

The room went quiet. Even Steve stopped mid-sip of his drink. Robin blinked slowly like she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.

I stared at Eddie, cheeks suddenly burning. “What did you just say?”

He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, like a predator who knew the exact effect he had. My brain screamed at me to move, say something clever, anything. But all I could do was stand there as he got closer.

And closer.

Until we were barely inches apart. I could feel the heat of him, the smell of leather and smoke and something warm and oddly comforting.

His voice dropped, low and taunting. “Ohhh… you wanna kiss me so bad, don’t you?”

My mouth opened and nothing came out.

He grinned wider, clearly revelling in the chaos he’d just unleashed. My face felt like it was on fire, and the worst part? I had no retort. No comeback. Just my rapidly melting dignity and the sound of Robin’s very audible gasp behind me.

“Speechless?” Eddie teased. “That’s a first.”

I opened my mouth again, determined to salvage my pride, but all that came out was a sound that could only be described as a squeak.

And that bastard he stepped back.

Like he’d just won the world’s most annoying game.

“Caught red-handed,” he said smugly, turning away like this was just another day at the office.

Robin clapped once. “Okay, that was… iconic. I’m sorry, Y/N, but it was.”

Steve shook his head. “Eddie, mate, you’re gonna end up with a black eye.”

“Worth it,” he said, plopping back onto the sofa and stretching like a cat in a sunbeam. “So worth it.”

Nancy leaned in close to me, whispering, “You alright?”

“No,” I hissed. “I’m humiliated.”

“Ah,” she said, trying not to laugh. “But you’re also a little bit into it, aren’t you?”

I scowled at her. But my silence betrayed me.

Because, deep down, I couldn’t deny it. The rush, the heat, the way he’d looked at me like he knew. Like he’d been waiting for that moment for weeks. Maybe he had.

Maybe I had, too.

“God help me,” I muttered.

Across the room, Eddie met my eyes. Raised his brows. And winked.

I spent the next ten minutes pretending I hadn’t just been verbally undressed by Eddie Munson in front of all my closest mates. Which, in case you’re wondering, is not easy to do when your face is still bright red and said verbal undresser is lounging about with a stupid little smirk on his stupid beautiful face.

I stood by the bookshelf, flipping through a random novel I’d already read twice, trying to look casual and unaffected, which was impossible because Robin kept snickering every time she looked at me.

“You good?” Steve whispered as he walked past with a fresh drink.

“Peachy,” I muttered.

He tilted his head. “You look like you’re about to combust.”

I rolled my eyes. “Can we not?”

But, of course, Steve could. And would. Because he was my twin and delighted in my suffering. “You do know he only winds you up because you’re the only one who bites back, right?”

“I don’t bite back, I...” I caught Eddie watching me from the sofa, his arm thrown across the backrest like he owned the place. When our eyes met, he raised one brow, lips twitching. Again.

“I loathe him,” I finished lamely.

“Uh huh,” Steve said, and walked away like that settled the matter.

Eventually, Nancy and Robin started talking about some book they were both reading something tragic and romantic and Steve got up to answer the phone when it rang in the kitchen, leaving me and Eddie more or less alone in the living room. Well, as alone as you can be with other people in the next room, distracted and not paying attention.

I debated leaving the room, but that would’ve meant admitting defeat, and I’d rather walk barefoot through Mordor.

So I sat on the arm of the sofa opposite him, arms crossed, eyes pointedly on the fireplace.

“You’re awful quiet,” Eddie said after a beat.

“Enjoying the silence.”

He grinned, shifting to face me more directly. “You sure? Thought you’d still be coming up with a witty comeback or something. You were always quick on the draw.”

“I was caught off guard,” I snapped, glaring at him.

His eyes twinkled with mischief. “You liked it.”

“I didn’t!”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You blushed, sweetheart. You don’t blush. I’ve never seen you speechless before. It was adorable.”

I turned away, biting my lip so hard it almost hurt. My skin still tingled from how close he’d gotten earlier. The heat of it lingered like a fingerprint on glass.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he said, and this time his voice was quieter. Less smug.

I looked at him then. He wasn’t grinning now. Just watching me, brows slightly drawn, fingers fiddling with a ring on his thumb.

“It’s just… you’re fun to rile up,” he admitted. “But I don’t want to actually upset you.”

I blinked. “Is that… sincerity I hear?”

He gave a sheepish little laugh. “Don’t tell anyone. Ruin my rep.”

I couldn’t help it I smiled. Just a little.

“I’m not really mad,” I said eventually. “You’re just… the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

He beamed. “That’s high praise.”

“And you’re cocky.”

“Charming,” he corrected.

“Smug.”

“Confident.”

I rolled my eyes, but it was lighter now. The tension had shifted. Less volatile, more… playful. Like we were on the edge of something neither of us wanted to admit.

I looked at him properly for the first time all evening. His hair was a little wild, as usual, one curl falling into his eyes. There was a tiny scar on his chin I’d never noticed before. And his eyes brown, warm, so very alive they weren’t mocking now. Just… soft.

“Why do you even bother?” I asked before I could stop myself. “Why go out of your way to tease me?”

He hesitated. Then shrugged, glancing down at his hands. “Because you see through my bullshit. Most people let me perform. You don’t. It’s… annoying,” he said with a grin, “but kind of refreshing.”

That shut me up.

“I like getting a rise out of you,” he added. “Not because I want to make you feel small or anything. Just… because when you look at me like you want to strangle me, it’s better than when you ignore me.”

I stared at him, trying to figure out if he was actually saying what I thought he was saying.

“I don’t ignore you.”

“You try to.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. He wasn’t wrong.

“I don’t mean to,” I admitted. “It’s just… you’re a bit much sometimes.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. I get that a lot.”

There was a silence between us, not uncomfortable, but thick with unspoken things.

Then he said, quieter now, “You really don’t hate me, do you?”

I looked at him. Really looked at him. His knees bounced nervously, one ringed finger tapping against the side of his thigh. He wasn’t cocky now. He was uncertain. Vulnerable, in a way I hadn’t seen before.

“No,” I said softly. “I don’t.”

And I didn’t. Maybe I never had.

Eddie smiled small this time, real and nodded once, as if that meant more to him than he wanted to admit.

Robin called from the kitchen about something to do with ice cream, and the spell broke.

But for a moment, just a moment, we sat in the quiet. No insults. No witty comebacks. Just me and Eddie Munson, and the unspoken thing hanging between us like smoke in the air.

And I swear just before he got up to help them in the kitchen he looked at me like he knew.

Like we both did.

Later that evening the bowling alley smelled faintly of stale popcorn and that strange waxy scent of rental shoes. It was loud neon lights flickering above us, classic rock blaring through crackling speakers but honestly, it wasn’t the worst way to spend a Friday night.

Robin had roped us all into it. Said we needed a proper night out before “the inevitable soul-crushing weight of adulthood” came crashing down on us. Classic Robin.

Nancy and Steve were already competing like it was a televised championship, Robin was dancing to the music more than she was bowling, and Eddie well.

Eddie had spent the past twenty minutes doing increasingly ridiculous trick shots, including one where he spun around dramatically before launching the ball straight into the gutter.

“You’re hopeless,” I said, sipping my drink from a plastic cup and watching him theatrically mourn the death of his bowling career.

He collapsed onto the seat beside me. “Admit it you’d miss me if I weren’t here to make this night less tragically normal.”

I gave him a long, unimpressed look. “I think I’d survive.”

He gasped. “Cruel.”

We grinned at each other, and the moment hung again like it had in the living room, but lighter this time. Easier.

“You’re up,” I told him, nodding at the scoreboard. “Let’s see if you can break double digits.”

“Oh, now that sounds like a challenge.” He stood, cracking his knuckles like he was about to enter a wrestling ring. “Prepare to witness history.”

“You said that last round,” I called after him. “And the ball nearly hit the snack bar.”

He glanced back, winked, and lined up his shot.

To be fair, he didn’t completely whiff it this time. He knocked down four pins, which was practically a miracle for him. He turned back with arms raised like he’d just won the lottery.

I gave him a mocking round of applause.

“Alright then, let’s see what you’ve got, princess,” he said, handing me the ball.

“Oh, you don’t want to challenge me,” I said, standing and stretching my arms in the most obnoxious show-off-y way possible. “I’ve got hidden talents.”

“I’m quaking,” he deadpanned.

I stepped up to the lane, took a breath, and with a smooth, calculated throw knocked down every single pin.

The strike echoed loud, a satisfying crack followed by a chorus of groans from the others.

Eddie’s jaw actually dropped.

I turned back slowly, eyebrows raised. “What’s the matter, Munson? Cat got your tongue?”

He stared at me, momentarily speechless.

I savored it.

“Oh no,” Robin called from the seating area. “He’s malfunctioning. Someone reboot him!”

I leaned in slightly, smiling sweetly. “You alright there, Eddie?”

He blinked, visibly trying to recover. “That was… lucky.”

“Three times in a row?” I held up the scoreboard as proof. “Face it. I’m better than you.”

“You’re evil,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked so thrown off, I almost felt bad.

Almost.

“Now you know how it feels,” I said, smirking. “Tables have turned, haven’t they?”

He pointed at me, like he was trying to form a comeback and couldn’t find the words.

“Speechless?” I teased. “At this rate, I might start to think you actually like me.”

His mouth opened. Then closed.

Then he blushed.

Not much just a faint pink along his cheekbones but I saw it. And I won.

I turned, smug as hell, and flounced back to my seat like a victorious queen. Robin held her hand up for a high-five. “Absolute annihilation.”

Eddie sat beside me again, still trying to gather his pride. He was quiet for a full thirty seconds. Then, in a completely casual voice, he said:

“So, uh. Hypothetically speaking. If someone wanted to, like, maybe… go somewhere with you. That wasn’t here. And maybe there was food. And possibly feelings involved”

I turned to look at him, brows raised.

He pressed on. “would that be, like… a thing you’d be into?”

I stared at him.

He stared back.

I laughed.

“What?” he said, slightly defensive. “That made sense.”

“No, it didn’t,” I said, still laughing. “Just ask me out properly, you idiot.”

He flushed deeper now, grinning despite himself. “Okay, fine.”

He cleared his throat, dramatically, placing one hand over his heart.

“Y/N Harrington, would you do me the immense honour of accompanying me on a date? Preferably one where I can attempt to redeem my tragic reputation?”

I smiled.

“Yeah,” I said. “I would.”

He blinked. “Wait seriously?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” I teased.

“I’m just I mean cool.” He sat back, pretending to be casual, but the grin on his face was blinding.

“I hope you know I’m going to destroy you at mini golf too,” I added.

He groaned. “You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

And just like that, the teasing started all over again but this time, it felt different.

This time, it felt like something beginning.

I was halfway down the stairs, one earring in and clutching my boots, when Steve’s voice cut through the Living Room TV on, legs sprawled, snack bowl balanced on his chest like a raccoon hoarding treasure.

“Oi,” he said, frowning up at me like I’d just walked into the room wearing a chicken suit. “Why do you look like that?”

I blinked. “Like what?”

He gestured vaguely in my direction, squinting. “Like that. Like you’ve got some weird disease on your face.”

“Excuse me?”

“All that makeup and shit.” He sat up straighter now, bowl teetering. “Is it contagious?”

I groaned and stepped into the hall mirror, touching under my eyes just to check. “You’re unbelievable. God forbid you just say, ‘Wow, Y/N, you look really nice tonight.’”

“That’d be weirder,” he muttered. “You’re my twin. Complimenting you feels like incest.”

I rolled my eyes. “You are so dramatic. I barely put anything on.”

“You’ve got… sparkles on your eyelids.”

“They’re shimmer,” I said, like it was obvious. “Besides, you used to steal my moisturiser before dates.”

He waved me off like that had never happened. (It absolutely had.)

“Anyway,” he said, folding his arms now like some kind of dad. “You’re dodging the question. Where are you going? And why do you look like you're about to be interviewed on the red carpet?”

I slipped my boots on, casually avoiding eye contact. “Out.”

“Out where?”

I made a face. “On a date.”

His reaction was instant.

He straightened so fast the snack bowl hit the floor. “A DATE?! With who?!”

I winced. “Could you not shout?”

“I’m your brother. twin, actually. I’m genetically obligated to shout when my sister leaves the house looking suspiciously fit.”

“You make it sound like a crime.”

“Depends who the guy is.”

I hesitated.

His eyes narrowed.

“Don’t say it,” I said, finger pointed in warning. “Don’t be weird about it.”

“I’m never not weird about it,” he said. “Who is it?”

I grabbed my coat.

“Y/N.”

I stalled.

He stood, hands on hips now.

“Y/N.”

I groaned. “Alright! It’s Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

Silence.

Then

“You’re dating Eddie Munson?”

“I didn’t say I was dating him. I said I was going on a date with him.”

Steve’s nose wrinkled like I’d told him I was going to lick a bus window. “Eddie our friend....The one who used to convince freshmen he could curse them with his guitar?”

“Yes, that Eddie.”

He ran a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ. Of all the people.”

“Don’t start.”

“No, no, I’m not judging. I’m just… digesting.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“Do you even like him? I thought you two hated each other. Last week you called him a goblin with too many rings.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t hate the goblin as much as I thought.”

He squinted at me.

I squinted back.

Finally, Steve sighed, leaning on the back of the couch like the weight of the world had just hit him.

“I knew there was something between you two. You’ve been bickering like it’s foreplay.”

I choked. “Oh my god”

“Don’t even deny it. The way you two argue? It’s suspiciously flirty. Like enemies in a soap opera who end up shagging in episode three.”

“Can you not?”

He smirked, annoying older brother mode fully activated. “So what, he called you pretty and you forgot how much you wanted to punch him?”

I glared. “He did not call me pretty.”

Steve just grinned like he’d caught me red-handed. “So you’re saying he will?”

“I’m leaving.”

“You gonna kiss him?”

“Steve!”

“Just saying, if he hurts you, I’m putting spiders in his van.”

“I’ll let him know,” I said flatly, pulling on my coat.

He stepped forward, gentler now. “Just be careful, yeah? I know Eddie’s a bit of an idiot, but I also know he’s got a good heart under all that metal and eyeliner.”

I blinked. “Was that… sincere?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Don’t get used to it.”

I smiled at him as I reached the door. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Still grossed out though,” he muttered. “You and Eddie. Ugh.” he fake gagged.

I gave him the finger and shut the door behind me, heart thudding in my chest.

The night was just getting started.

The mini golf place was decked out like a knockoff medieval fairground plastic dragons, crumbling stone towers, and a pirate ship for absolutely no reason. It was kitschy, ridiculous, and very on-brand for Eddie Munson.

He was already there when I arrived, leaned against the dragon statue like it was his throne, spinning a bright neon pink golf ball in his hand.

When he spotted me, he grinned like the cat who’d swallowed the canary and set the house on fire.

“Well, well, Harrington,” he said, pushing off the statue with a theatrical bow. “You’ve arrived to lose with grace, I hope.”

I crossed my arms raising my eyebrow.

He held out his arms. “Is this not the most romantic venue in all of Hawkins? Look at that knight statue over there he's literally proposing to a squirrel.”

“Are you planning on proposing tonight, Munson?”

He blinked. “I mean, if you sink the windmill shot in one try, I might have to.”

I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re here anyway. What does that say about you?”

“That I’m a glutton for punishment.”

“Or that you secretly love it when I annoy you.”

We bickered through the first six holes like it was our full-time job. Every time I missed a shot by an inch, Eddie would gasp dramatically and hold his heart like I'd stabbed him. When he managed a hole-in-one purely by dumb luck he pranced around the hole like he’d just won Wimbledon.

“You’re literally unbearable,” I muttered, watching him twirl his club like a cane.

He grinned, eyes bright. “You’re smiling.”

“I’m grimacing.”

“You’re blushing.”

“That’s the neon lights.”

He stepped closer then, a little smug, a little daring. “You’re imagining kissing me, aren’t you?”

I narrowed my eyes. “If I were, it’d only be to shut you up.”

“Hot.”

God, he was exhausting. And stupid. And kind of adorably stupid. Which was the problem.

We reached the pirate-themed hole complete with cannonball obstacles and a parrot animatronic that kept screeching “Walk the plank!” every thirty seconds and paused to take a breath (and eat the terrible vending machine chocolate he'd insisted on buying for us).

As we sat on the rickety bench nearby, the chaos melted for a moment. Eddie’s fingers brushed mine when he handed over my half of the chocolate bar, and instead of some dumb joke, he looked at me quietly.

“This is nice,” he said, voice softer than I expected.

I glanced at him. “You surprised?”

“Kinda.” He shrugged. “You know, I thought maybe you’d get sick of me halfway through and run off screaming into the Hawkins night.”

I tilted my head. “I did consider it.”

He chuckled, then looked down at his hands. “I didn’t think you’d actually say yes, you know.”

I blinked. “What, to the date?”

“Yeah. I mean… you’re you. Smart, sharp, terrifying when you want to be. And I’m just… well, me.”

I frowned, suddenly wanting to shake him. “Eddie.”

He glanced at me.

“You’re not just anything.”

He looked at me like I’d slapped him but in a good way. Like no one had ever just said that to him straight.

I reached over, took the stupid golf pencil from behind his ear, and tapped it against his forehead. “Don’t get all emotional on me now. I’m still gonna beat your ass on the pirate hole.”

“Doubtful,” he smirked, confidence reloading like a shotgun. “But you’re welcome to try.”

I went first and somehow nailed the trick shot between the cannons. I raised both arms like I’d won the lottery.

“Boom!” I crowed. “Take that, Munson.”

He stared at the ball as it dropped neatly into the hole, then back at me. His jaw dropped.

“You...you hustled me.”

“Maybe I just got good while you were too busy showboating.”

He pointed at me accusingly. “You let me think I had the upper hand.”

I grinned. “Sweetheart, you never did.”

He looked stunned for a second. Flustered, even. Like I’d just out-Eddied Eddie.

I started to walk away to the next hole, smirking, but he grabbed my hand not rough, just enough to pause me and pulled me back.

“Wait.”

I turned. “What?”

He looked… nervous. Then steeled himself like he was about to leap into battle.

“Would you maybe wanna… do this again? Like… something else? Not just mini golf. Like… more dates. With me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking me to date you, Munson?”

He looked like he’d been caught shoplifting in a nun’s handbag. “I mean, yeah? If that’s not completely bonkers.”

I laughed actually laughed, half from disbelief, half from pure affection.

“Jesus, Eddie,” I said, “just ask me out, you idiot.”

He huffed a breath, stepped forward, and gave me a shy, crooked grin.

“Y/N Harrington, would you like to keep dating the annoying, overly dramatic metalhead who can’t mini golf to save his life but might just be absolutely into you?”

I grinned. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

We were nearing the last hole some ridiculous castle setup with a drawbridge and LED torches and I was still riding the high of absolutely crushing him on the pirate ship hole. Eddie, for once, wasn’t talking. Just watching me. Too quiet.

I turned to him, suspicious. “Alright, what’s your deal? You look like you’re about to propose or faint. Possibly both.”

He scratched the back of his neck, eyes flicking to my mouth for the briefest second before quickly darting away. “I’m not… I mean. I was gonna…” He stepped closer, barely a breath away. The smirk was gone. Just those dark eyes, all mischief swapped for nerves.

I arched a brow. “Gonna…?”

He opened his mouth like he might say something, like he might finally kiss me and then he chickened out.

Literally froze.

I watched his jaw tighten slightly. The muscles in his face doing that dumb, adorable twitchy thing they always did when he didn’t know what to say. And he never didn’t know what to say.

I let the moment hang there, then sighed loudly, dramatically and tilted my head.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I muttered, before grabbing his shirt and pulling him down into a kiss.

He made a surprised little noise at first, like he couldn’t believe I’d actually done it. And then he melted into it, fingers curling lightly around my waist like he didn’t want to push his luck.

When we finally pulled apart, he blinked down at me, dazed.

I smirked. “You really gonna leave me hanging like that, Munson?”

He blinked again, then grinned shy and crooked, somehow smug and stunned at the same time. “I was building tension.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling cowardice these days?”

“You wound me, Harrington.”

“Only your ego.”

He shook his head with a soft laugh and bumped my shoulder with his. “Remind me to let you take the lead more often.”

I nudged him back, my smile tugging at the corners of my mouth whether I liked it or not. “Remind me to not wait around for you to grow a pair.”

“Deal.”

And with that, we moved on to the last hole, fingers brushing together until they weren’t just brushing anymore.

[sophiewritesworld]

Tension and Temptation - E. M

Eddie Munson x Reader Warnings: 18+ MDNI Summary: A midnight ride in Eddie Munson’s van can’t go wrong, right ?

Three

Part Four

It’s been three days since the van, and the memory’s still buzzing under your skin like a live wire. You’re at the arcade with the usual crowd - Dustin’s yelling at the claw machine, Lucas is racking up points on Pac-Man, and Max is pretending she doesn’t care about her high score. Eddie’s there too, leaning against a pinball machine, all lazy confidence, his leather jacket slung over one shoulder. But every time his eyes catch yours, there’s a flicker—something private, heated, that sends your pulse racing and drags you right back to that fogged-up night.

You’re trying to focus on the game in front of you, some racing sim that’s eating your quarters, but it’s hard when you can feel him watching. He hasn’t said much since you got here, just tossed you a smirk and a “Hey, trouble” that sounded too casual to mean nothing. The tension’s different now—not the reckless hunger from before, but something slower, simmering, like you’re both waiting for the other to make the next move.

He saunters over, finally, dropping a quarter into the slot next to yours, starting a two-player mode you didn’t ask for. “Thought you could use some real competition,” he says, voice low, that familiar teasing edge cutting through the arcade’s noise. His arm brushes yours as he grips the joystick, deliberate but subtle, and it’s enough to make your breath hitch, memories of his hands on you flashing vivid and uninvited.

“You’re dreaming, Munson,” you shoot back, leaning into the game, trying to ignore the way your body reacts to his nearness. But he’s not making it easy—his knee bumps yours under the console, and when he laughs, it’s close, warm, like he’s sharing a secret. The screen blares as you crash your car, and he grins, all teeth and mischief. “Distracted?” he asks, and the way he says it, you know he’s not talking about the game. You elbow him, playful but with enough force to make a point, and he laughs again, louder, drawing a glance from Dustin across the room. “Keep it down, you two!” the kid shouts, oblivious, and Eddie just winks at you, like it’s another thing you’re in on together. The air feels charged, every glance and touch a reminder of what’s unspoken between you—neither of you has brought up the van, but it’s there, heavy, in the way he lingers a beat too long when you pass him a soda later, fingers brushing yours.

As the arcade starts to empty, he catches you by the door, his voice quieter now, less guarded. “You wanna get outta here? Grab a shake or… something?” It’s casual, but his eyes aren’t—they’re searching, cautious, like he’s testing the waters. Your heart kicks up, and you know whatever this is, it’s not just a milkshake he’s offering. The tension’s back, softer but no less potent, and you’re both standing on the edge again, waiting to see who’ll jump first.

You nod, the word “Sure” slipping out before you overthink it, and Eddie’s grin—half-relieved, half-trouble—lights up his face. “C’mon then,” he says, jerking his head toward the parking lot, his hand brushing your lower back for a split second as you step outside. It’s barely a touch, but it’s enough to reignite that spark, a silent echo of the van’s heat. The night air’s cool, a sharp contrast to the arcade’s stuffy glow, and you’re hyper-aware of him beside you, his boots scuffing the pavement, the jangle of his keys like a metronome to your quickening pulse.

He leads you to his van, parked crooked under a flickering streetlight, and opens the passenger door with a mock bow that’s so Eddie it makes you laugh. “Your chariot, m’lady,” he quips, but his eyes linger, catching yours with that same intensity from three days ago, like he’s remembering every second of it too. You slide in, the familiar scent of leather and faint weed wrapping around you, and it’s like stepping back into that night—except now, there’s a new layer, a question hanging in the air.

He climbs in, starting the engine with a low rumble, and for a moment, you’re both quiet, the radio humming some old rock tune he doesn’t bother to change. “Benny’s for shakes?” he asks, glancing over, but there’s a weight to it, like he’s giving you an out. You nod, and he pulls out, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gearshift, close enough that you could brush it if you wanted. You don’t—not yet—but the thought alone sends a shiver through you.

At Benny’s, you grab a booth in the back, the kind with cracked vinyl seats and a sticky table, but it feels like your own little world. He orders a chocolate shake, you get strawberry, and when they come, he steals a sip of yours without asking, grinning like a kid when you swat his hand. “What? Sharing’s caring,” he says, and the way he leans across the table, elbows propped, makes the space between you feel smaller, charged. His knee bumps yours under the table, and this time, he doesn’t pull away.

“Been thinkin’ about you,” he admits, quieter now, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. It’s not his usual swagger—it’s raw, almost hesitant, and it catches you off guard. Your heart stumbles, and you meet his gaze, finding those brown eyes softer than you expected, but still burning with that unspoken pull.

“Yeah?” you say, voice barely above a whisper, and he nods, leaning closer, his voice dropping.

“Yeah. A lot.”

The diner’s hum—clinking dishes, distant chatter—fades to nothing. It’s just him, the way his hair falls in his face, the way his hand shifts, like he’s itching to reach for you but holding back. You feel it too, that same tension from the van, but it’s evolved—less about recklessness now, more about what happens next. You slide your foot forward, nudging his, and his breath catches, a slow smile spreading. “Careful,” he murmurs, echoing that night, but this time it’s an invitation, not a warning.

Eddie’s fingers linger on yours, a slow, deliberate graze that feels like a spark jumping between wires. His touch is warm, the metal of his rings cool against your skin, and you don’t pull away—neither does he. The diner’s fluorescent lights cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the way his eyes hold yours, steady but searching, like he’s trying to read every thought you’re not saying. The air between you hums, not as frantic as the van but heavier, laced with something unspoken that’s been building since that night.

You curl your fingers, catching his, and his breath hitches—just a fraction, but you notice. That slow smile of his creeps back, the one that’s equal parts trouble and promise, and he leans across the table, closing the gap until his face is inches from yours. “You keep lookin’ at me like that, we’re not gonna make it through these shakes,” he says, voice low, teasing, but there’s an edge to it, a heat that matches the pulse pounding in your ears.

“Maybe I don’t care about the shakes,” you reply, bolder than you feel, and his laugh is soft, rough, like he’s trying to keep it together. His thumb brushes your knuckles, a small, grounding gesture that somehow makes the tension coil tighter. You’re both playing with fire again, but it’s not the same reckless blaze from before—this is slower, deliberate, like you’re savoring the burn.

He pulls back just enough to sit up, but he doesn’t let go of your hand, keeping that connection as he grabs his shake and takes a long sip, eyes never leaving yours. It’s a power move, casual but loaded, and you match it, sipping your own, letting the silence stretch, charged and electric. The strawberry’s too sweet, but it’s nothing compared to the way his gaze makes your skin prickle, like he’s already imagining what comes next. “Wanna get outta here?” he asks finally, voice quieter now, less cocky, like he’s laying his cards down and waiting for you to call. Your heart kicks up, and you nod, sliding out of the booth as he tosses a crumpled ten on the table. His hand finds your lower back again as you head for the door, a touch that’s barely there but feels like a claim, and you’re hyper-aware of every step, the way his stride matches yours, the way the night air hits your face but does nothing to cool the heat between you.

Back at the van, he doesn’t open the door right away. Instead, he leans against it, pulling you close, hands settling on your hips like they belong there. “Tell me what you want,” he says, and it’s not a demand—it’s a question, raw and open, his forehead resting against yours. His breath’s warm, mingling with yours, and you can feel the restraint in him, the way he’s holding back until you say it.

You tilt your head, lips brushing his, not quite a kiss but close enough to make him tense. “You,” you whisper, and it’s like flipping a switch. His mouth crashes to yours, hungry but controlled, tasting of chocolate and want. It’s not the van’s frenzy—this kiss is deeper, like he’s pouring everything into it, and you’re right there with him, hands in his hair, pulling him closer. The streetlight buzzes above, but it’s just background noise—you’re lost in him, in the way his hands slide up your sides, the way he presses himself against you, solid and real.

He pulls back, breathing hard, eyes searching yours. “Not here,” he says, half-laughing, like he’s trying to talk himself down. “Wanna do this right.” And there’s something in his voice—care, maybe, or something close—that makes your chest tighten. He opens the door, but before you climb in, he kisses you again, softer, lingering, like he’s promising more than just tonight. The van’s engine roars to life, and as he drives, his hand rests on your thigh, warm and steady, a tether to whatever’s coming next.

[misskingshit]

Beauty and the Freak

summary: For every teenager at Hawkins High School, it was inexplicable why someone like you would approach a weirdo like Munson. Maybe he's threatening you.

note: I think I speak for everyone when I say that we will never get over Eddie. Not only is he hot, but he was so cute. God, I really hope he somehow magically returns in season 5. this is a lil long and smutty (no so much) and also, idk if this is trashy or not, but tonight I'm doing part 2 xoxo

"Okay, girls! It was a great practice. Don't forget to bring some ideas for a great finale. I'm open to hearing anything. Bye!" Cheerleading practice had ended, and it had gone better than you'd expected. A very important game was approaching, and everything had to go perfectly.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I know you hate talking about it, but Jason's already mad because Kaleb won't stop talking about you," Chrissy tells you. You let out the biggest sigh. "He's so annoying! I told him no 13 times…" You indignantly comment to your friend. "13 times! I counted! He's bordering on stalker." The two of you finish grabbing your bags and head out into the hallway. "This has to be a joke," you said, fed up. "It even looks like we summoned him. It's creepy," your friend looked at you with pity. Jason and Kaleb walked toward you. "I love how that uniform looks on you, baby," Jason said to Chrissy. You quickly fixed your cold gaze on the other boy; you really couldn't get rid of him. "Keep your comments to yourself, thanks." You put on a fake smile and continued walking. "Why are you acting like this? All I'm doing is trying to get you to even look at me." You stopped walking and turned around, ready to argue. There was no way he was going to come across as the victim here. "That's not my problem, I told you. You seemed super sweet the first few times, and I was even flattered," you said, widening your eyes. "But you're crossing a line. You don't accept rejection and you won't leave me alone. I don't like you! Go away!" And with that, you set off in search of your locker.

❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀

After so long, the moment you'd been waiting for arrived. The bell signaling the end of the school day. Excited, you ran to the exit and quickly headed to the back of the school. "Munson?" The newly minted man turned around and looked around, his face puzzled. He didn't understand what the cheerleading captain was doing looking for him, and even worse, how did she even know his last name? "Are you talking to me?" he asked. You simply nodded with a smile on your face. "Yeah, sorry to bother you, but… I was wondering, do you have something… you know?" His face changed, fully understanding what was happening. "Um, not really. Normally they have to let me know beforehand, I don't do that right away." "Oh, sure, I understand," you laughed nervously. "Sorry, this is my first time, I don't know how this works." He smiled tenderly. "Don't worry." You both shared glances, him smiling at your innocence and you at your nerves. Finally, he came around and pointed to his van behind him. "I have, you know, the green stuff at my house… if you want, you can come with me…" "Wow, you're fast, Munson," you laughed a little. "I-I'm not sorry, sorry, that's not what I meant, forget it." Eddie grew nervous at how strange his proposal had sounded. Although your answer sounded stranger to him. "I'll come," you said confidently, and headed to the passenger seat of the van. "What? Really?" He turned to look at you. "Yeah, why not?"

After processing what was happening for a few seconds, he simply climbed in next to you and started the van. "Don't worry, we'll get out the back." You looked at him, confused. You weren't exchanging anything, it wasn't anything unusual. "Oh, come on, the cheerleader, the most popular, the most beautiful girl in town. You don't want to be seen with me," he let out a sarcastic laugh, looking straight ahead. You were still smiling, but at the same time, you were frowning. "I couldn't care less. They're all idiots I'll never see again once school's out. I really don't care." You looked at the trees through the window. Eddie really couldn't believe it.

❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀

"So… this is my castle. I'm sorry it's so clean and tidy. I…" They both looked at each other and laughed. "It's cozy. At least you know someone lives here. In my house, there's rarely anyone with me. The decor is too simple, the rooms are too big, therefore, too cold, everything is too clean and perfect… it's sad." "Yeah… fuck it all," he sighed, looking up from the floor. "Fuck it all," you laughed. He led you to his room, which led to a roughly 40-minute conversation based on your questions about the guitar posters and him explaining each story in great detail. Until he finally gave you the thing you were really in his RV for. "Well, that's it, what you were looking for," he smiled at you. "Thank you so much," you put it in your bag. You weren't going to lie to yourself. You were really having a good time, you didn't want to leave. And it seems the universe heard your prayers. "I, uhm, n-don't want to sound weird or anything, just, I don't know if you want to stay and hang out, only if you want to, obviously…" "Yes!" you interrupted his nervous stuttering. "Of course."

You both sat down on the bed, and the conversation flowed so naturally that it seemed like you'd known each other your whole life. You both turned out to have very similar tastes and interests, similar personalities. You'd never have thought that two polar opposites could have so much in common. "Can you believe it? God, I really couldn't look a dog in the eye for a whole week!" you said indignantly. You were both lying side by side on the bed staring at the ceiling. "You just accidentally stepped on his paw. It's not that big of a deal," he laughed, turning his face toward yours. "Of course it is! He's a small dog, and his paw must have hurt a lot," you turned your head as well. You were both very close, so close that you could feel each other's breathing. You stared at each other for a few seconds, inevitably smiling. "You have a very beautiful smile," you whispered, looking into his eyes. "You are insanely beautiful, inside and out." Your smile faded; no one had ever said anything so beautiful to you. It was always about popularity, appearances, money, and how important mommy and daddy are on the social ladder. No one really cared about the other person. "Did I say something wrong? I… I'm sorry-" You interrupted, closing the space between you for just a few seconds before quickly pulling away. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" Now you were the one interrupted. Eddie's hand rested warmly on your cheek, his lips moving slowly with yours, completely in sync, as if you'd done this a thousand times. It felt so fucking good. The kisses lasted for a few minutes, their lips moving together, and a few shy but mischievous smiles at the same time. "God," he said, taking a deep breath, "that was…" "Incredible," you smiled, looking at his mouth, flushed from the recent session. You didn't even think about it for a second and threw yourself on top of him, now kissing him much more passionately, as he allowed you to do whatever you wanted with him. You both adjusted your position; he sat against the backrest and you straddled him, slowly rubbing yourself against him, getting even wetter with each of his little moans and murmurs. "Wait," you said, pulling away slightly. His face showed concern; he really didn't want to screw up. "I don't know about you, but I really want you to fuck me right now." You placed wet kisses on his neck. "I really don't think there's anything I wouldn't want to do with you. The thing is… I've never, you know." "You barely had any contact with women?" He looked at you, surprised. "I want to say no, but there's no need to say it like that. It seems like I'm a…" "A freak? Honey, you are a freak," you kissed him slowly, biting his lip. "But that's what drives me the most crazy." You took his hands and directed them to your breasts. "That and the fact that you've never touched a woman before." He smiled mischievously. "I bet you're just as freakish as I am." "You have no idea." You began to rub yourself against him more intensely while he watched, hypnotized by the movement of your breasts, touching them as if they were gold, although, to him, they were. "Do you want to fuck me in my cheerleader uniform?" You asked provocatively in his ear. He could only nod, unable to form a single word.

In the midst of all the wet kisses you were giving each other, you unbuttoned his pants while he lifted up your miniskirt, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. "Are you sure you want this?" you asked him one last time, just in case. "I've never been so sure about anything in my entire life," he looked you straight in the eyes. "Please." And that was all it took. Slowly and provocatively, you scattered kisses until you reached his pelvis. Seeing how big it was, you couldn't hold it back any longer; you took it all in your mouth. You had never felt so turned on as you looked at Eddie's face at that point, throwing his head back in a pleasurable sigh. "God," he said. "Fuck yeah, I don't know what's hotter, the sensation or watching you choke on my dick."

You stayed down there for a few minutes, but you were convinced you weren't going to let him finish right then. "I-I think I'm about to cum, fuck, keep going." His face paled as you quickly pulled out of your mouth and quickly straddled him again. Looking into his eyes the whole time, you took his big, hard dick in your hand and very gently began to slide down. "Oh my god, Eddie, you're so big, fuck," you moaned loudly, biting your mouth. He impulsively grabbed your hips tightly, squeezing you as if that would serve as catharsis. "It's so tight," he brought his face closer to your breasts. "Jump on me, baby, bounce hard on my dick. I know you love it, don't you?" he said between moans and sighs. Damn, you thought, where did he get such confidence out of nowhere? But the truth was that, inevitably, seeing you and hearing you moan about how big his cock was made him feel good. "Tell me you love it." "I love it-" You simply couldn't; with him thrusting in and out so hard, it was impossible. You were at it for about 10 minutes, five of which were spent with him fucking you on all fours. He thrust into you with a force you didn't know he had, moaning as loudly as you could and even biting the sheets and pillows to contain some of your noises. When you both came, you spent a few minutes lying in bed, breathing and trying to recover all your lost energy. "Did you like it?" you asked curiously. "That was the best experience of my entire life." You couldn't help but laugh slightly at his astonished face. "Well, I'm very glad-" "EDDIE!" a man's shout came from the entrance of the house. You both quickly get up and get dressed. "Who is it?" you ask worriedly. "That's my uncle," he whispers, approaching you. Without you being able to do anything else, and with Eddie still buttoning his pants, the door suddenly opens. "Damn, man, don't you know how to play?" the freak asks. "Oh shit, sorry, I wanted to know if it was you with all that noise…" Eddie quickly pushed his uncle out of the room and walked out into the small hallway with him.

You were red-faced with embarrassment, and inwardly grateful that he'd gotten his uncle out of the room. "How much did you hear?" the young man asks, concerned. Wayne sighs in disgust. "Things I wish I could erase from my memory." Eddie immediately squeezed his eyes shut, and was about to apologize. "Don't bother, just make sure I'm not home from work." He turns to leave, but something stops him in his tracks. "How did you do it?" "What do you mean?" "A cheerleader? Seriously, you? And a cheerleader?" he asks incredulously. Eddie looks at him, offended, and quickly gives him the finger. "Fuck off."

❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀

Leaving the cute weirdo's house was easy. Thank goodness his uncle was in bed, and you didn't have to say hello. How embarrassing. It was already the next day. Eddie was a little disappointed. He really didn't expect you to talk to him again unless you needed something illegal. And he clearly knew you weren't going to speak to him at school, which made him sad. He'd really had a great time, way beyond the sex. But he didn't know anything. It was lunchtime. The cafeteria, as always, was perfectly divided into its specific social groups. The black-haired man was with his group of friends, the social outcasts, the freaks, but he really wasn't paying attention to anything his friends were talking about. "Eddie," Dustin called, "what's wrong? Aren't you listening?" "Sorry, what were you saying?" But he didn't hear him either. He was too busy watching you sitting about two tables away, how beautiful your smile was, your long chocolate-brown hair, and your excellent figure… as if he were telepathically calling you. You turned around and both of you locked eyes. Although you smiled slightly at him, you quickly turned your head back to your friends. His disappointed gaze lowered to the table. "Shit," he whispered. He knew this would happen; you're super popular, but maybe, even though he doesn't want to admit it, he still had some hope… "Hey, Eddie," your soft voice sounded behind him. There was such a silence at the weirdo table that you could hear a bishop fall. Everyone stared at you, not understanding what was happening. How could you be at his table, and how do you even know the name of his friend, the freak king? Eddie slowly turned his head in disbelief. "Hey," he sighed, quickly standing up from the table to face you. "What are you doing here?" "What do you mean, I wanted to say hi, does that bother you?" "No, no, of course not," he quickly answered. "It's just that I didn't think you'd approach me at school, much less in the cafeteria," he laughed awkwardly. All his friends were still staring at them in disbelief; there was no way in this universe that what they were experiencing could be explained. "I already told you I don't care," you said tiredly. "I know, I just… it's just that I didn't think…" You had gotten that far; you couldn't listen to him anymore. You would do anything to make him understand that you didn't care what people said. And you did. Your arms quickly slid around his neck and your mouth connected with his, leaving all the boys at the table and some of your friends in the distance with their mouths on the floor. It was a tender kiss, immediately reciprocated by Eddie, who didn't even remember that he, the weird kid who plays monster games, was kissing the most beautiful girl in town, the friend of everyone at school, the girl everyone wanted to be with. "Please understand," you said between kisses. "I like you." Another kiss. "A lot." And the world stopped spinning for him. "Are you sure about what you're saying?" he said, unable to believe it. "Of course," you smiled, the two of you still sharing a beautiful closeness. "I'll expect you at my house today at 4 p.m. Bring plenty of clothes. I don't plan on letting you go for at least a week." With one last playful smile and one last kiss on those soft lips you loved so much, you walked away again. "Bye guys!" you greeted his friends as if it were an everyday occurrence. "What the fuck?" was all you heard from them.

[thepinkpanther83]

And They Were Roommates (Pt.12)

Chapter Twelve: “Redemption, Bras, and Burnt Toast”

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Find me on AO3.

Read this story on AO3.

Chapter Eleven: “Airing Out Dirty Laundry” Chapter Thirteen: “Walk of Triumph (And Slight Shame)”

Click "Keep Reading" below the cut to read. 😘

Chapter Twelve: “Redemption, Bras, and Burnt Toast” You wake up to the smell of smoke.

Not cigarette smoke. Not incense. Not even the suspicious kind that hints at electrical issues.

No, this is the unmistakable, cloying scent of burnt toast and ego.

You stumble into the kitchen, still groggy, and find Eddie half-dressed and fully committed to the crime scene before you. He’s brandishing a spatula like a weapon of war, glaring at the toaster like it insulted his mother.

There’s a blackened slice of bread smoking on a plate, another one mid-flame in the toaster, and somehow… somehow, he’s also managed to spill an entire box of cereal across the floor. Milk drips from the counter in long, slow arcs, forming a little dairy moat around his boots.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes. “What happened here? Did breakfast fight back?”

Eddie turns to you, wild-eyed and unrepentant. “Don’t panic,” he says, pointing the spatula like he’s directing traffic. “I’ve got this under control.”

You glance around at the battlefield. “Do you, though?”

“Okay, it’s possible… hypothetically, that the toaster betrayed me.”

You walk past him, unplug the toaster before the whole kitchen goes up in flames, and grab the fire extinguisher just in case. Eddie watches with narrowed eyes, arms crossed, now pouting like a kid who got caught coloring on the walls.

“I was trying to surprise you with breakfast,” he says, a little sulky. “It’s been a while. I thought I’d make up for it.”

You glance at him over your shoulder, brow raised. “With arson?”

“With love,” he insists. “And possibly arson. But mostly love.”

You set the extinguisher down and lean against the counter, arms folded. “You know you don’t have to burn the kitchen down to get my attention, right?”

He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly sheepish. “I know. I just… between work, school, and rehearsals and the gig coming up… I haven’t exactly been the best-” He gestured back and forth with the spatula between yourselves, “whatever this is, lately.”

Your expression softens.

Yeah, he hadn’t been around much. You’d noticed. And not just in the Eddie forgot to do the dishes again kind of way. In the quiet late nights without his noise kind of way. In the dinners for one kind of way.

But he’s here now. Standing in front of you in pajama pants and a Crüe tank, hair wild, hands covered in flour and bad ideas.

And he tried.

“Next time,” you say, stepping closer to rest your hands on his hips, “just wake me up and I’ll make us both breakfast. Deal?”

Eddie leans in, resting his forehead against yours with a grin that borders on sleepy and sincere. “Deal. But I still get credit for effort, right?”

You kiss the tip of his nose. “You get full marks for dramatic flair.” "Hell yeah."

The kitchen was back to normal. Mostly.

There’s still a faint smell of burnt toast that no candle can conquer, and a milk-damp sock drying on the radiator like some kind of bizarre warning flag. But the chaos has settled, replaced by the lazy calm of early afternoon. Sunlight spills through the windows in long, golden stripes, and Eddie’s sprawled across the couch with his arm slung dramatically over his eyes like a Victorian woman about to faint, one leg bouncing with leftover energy, the other tangled beneath a throw blanket. There’s a damp dish towel draped over his shoulder for no reason except that it never made it back to the sink, and he’s been too distracted to notice.

He hasn’t stopped fidgeting.

You’re curled up in the armchair, socks mismatched, hair still a little messy from sleep, flipping through a magazine, pretending you’re not looking at him every five seconds.

But you watch him out of the corner of your eye- how he’s sometimes picking at a loose thread on his jeans, tapping his ring against the remote, cracking his knuckles in a loop. It’s a different kind of nervous energy than you’re used to from him. Not chaotic. Not gremlin. Just… unsettled.

“So,” he says suddenly, voice muffled by the crook of his arm, “hypothetically... what are you doing tonight?”

You glance up. “Why, are you planning a second assault on the kitchen?”

He grins without moving. “No arson this time. Promise. Just... there’s a gig. The gig. Our redemption arc, remember?”

You lower the magazine. “The one you’ve been vanishing for the past two weeks to rehearse like a man possessed?”

He finally peeks at you from under his arm, eyes soft and shining. “That’s the one.”

You wait, because you know he’s not just bringing it up to make conversation. Eddie never does anything halfway.

“I might’ve oversold the drama a little. But it’s kind of a big deal. Local battle of the bands. Some industry folks rumored to be sniffin’ around. No guarantees, but… y’know. It’s the kinda show that could lead to something.”

You sit up straighter. “That’s awesome. Are you guys ready?”

“That’s the thing.” He shifts uncomfortably. “We’re tight. Like, tighter than we’ve been in years. The guys are killin’ it. But… I dunno.”

He looks away, chewing the inside of his cheek, and suddenly it clicks- this isn’t just about the band. It’s about him.

“I want you to come,” he says, sitting up now, rubbing his hands on his thighs like he's working up the nerve for something big. “I mean… really come. Not like a rehearsal where everyone’s picking their noses and arguing about setlists. I mean… come see me on stage. You’ve seen us rehearse, but that’s not the same. It’s different when it’s real. When the lights are on and people are watching. I wanna show you what it looks like when I’m in it. When I’m me.”

The way he says it- it’s not just an invitation. It’s a request for something deeper. To be seen, not just as the boy burning toast in your kitchen, but as the man who still dares to believe in something bigger than the walls around him.

Your heart clenches a little.

His gaze is searching, earnest.

“I want you to see what I’m like. When I’m not just Eddie the burnout, or Eddie the roommate, or Eddie who almost set the toaster on fire. I wanna show you Eddie Munson, ‘Rock God’.”

You smile, warm and a little breathless, because he’s not joking- he’s hopeful. He wants to impress you. He wants you to be proud.

“I’d love to,” you say smiling. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask. Actually, I’m kinda psyched to see you show off.” That gets a grin out of him.

His whole body loosens with relief, like he was holding in a breath he didn’t know he’d taken. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, setting your magazine aside. “I want to see you in your element. I want to see you light the place up.”

Eddie chuckles, but it’s a little choked. His knee bounces, fingers twitching. You recognize the signs- he’s excited, but something’s clawing at the back of it.

“Oh, I’m absolutely gonna peacock it up,” he says. “I’m talkin’ windmills, mic swings, maybe even some tasteful shirtlessness- depends how good you look for me in the audience.”

You laugh, flicking his thigh. “Tasteful, huh?”

“Hey, I have range.” He leans in, voice low and playful. “And if the show goes well… maybe I’ll autograph your body after.” He says with a wicked smirk.

You roll your eyes, but your grin’s unstoppable.

He looks away, then back at you.

“I used to feel like we had all the time in the world, you know…” he says softly. “Like we were always just one gig away from breaking through. But lately it’s like… time’s not stretching out the same way. Everyone’s getting real jobs, talking about next steps. And I’m still here, trying to keep this dream on life support with duct tape and hope.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, aware his mood is flopping back and forth.

“I know it’s dumb,” he rushes. “I mean, I’m not even asking for arenas or platinum records. I just… want a shot. I want someone to look at us and think, ‘Yeah, those guys are worth something.’ That I’m worth something.” He looked back up at you.

“I think this might be it, you know?” he says, voice quieter now. “Like, if this show goes well, we might get something real out of it. There’s this dude coming… he books regional tours, local festivals. Gareth says he’s serious. And if we blow it… if I blow it…” He trails off, shaking his head.

You shift to the edge of your seat, heart thudding for him, you reach over, your hand finding his knee. “Eddie…” You squeeze, voice warm. “You are worthy. And your music is too.”

He finally meets your eyes, the faintest trace of panic in his expression, something unguarded flickering there.

“I guess I’m scared,” he admits, barely above a whisper. “Scared that this thing I’ve been chasing forever… this stupid dream, it’s starting to slip away. And I didn’t even notice until now.”

You rise, cross the short space between you, and sit beside him on the couch. Without hesitation, he leans into you, his forehead resting against your temple.

“It’s not stupid,” you murmur. “And it’s not slipping away.”

He pulls back enough to look at you, eyes steady, open.

“I’ll be there,” you promise. “Front row. Screaming your name and throwing my bra if I have to.”

That gets a laugh- a real, full-body Eddie Munson laugh that rumbles in his chest and makes your heart feel like it might crawl out of yours to get closer to his.

“Jesus, don’t say that,” he says, wiping at his eyes. “Now I’m gonna be thinking about that all night.”

“Good,” you tease. “Play better.”

He leans in close, and for a second, you think he might kiss you- but instead, he just grins, breath warm on your skin.

“Be careful what you promise, sweetheart,” he says lowly. “I’m the kind of guy who takes front-row bra-throwing as a legally binding contract.”

The air feels lighter now. His shoulders less tense. The weight a little more shared.

You’re ready to watch him fly.

“So look,” he insists, now fully animated, rising to his feet and pacing with mock seriousness. “This is a local landmark show. Big names in the crowd. We’ve got atmosphere. We’ve got sweat. We’ve got pyrotechnics- okay, technically, Gareth’s cousin with a fog machine. But still. I need the full experience. And nothing screams ‘rock god ascension’ like a flying bra from the hottest girl in the room.”

You peer up at him, arms crossed. “What makes you so sure I’ll be the hottest girl in the room?”

“Oh sweetheart,” he says, swooping down into your space like a man with zero doubts and even less shame. “Because you’re mine.”

And there it is- that bold, devil-may-care Eddie confidence that sets your pulse just a little off-beat.

You flick his shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”

He grins. “And you love it.”

You try to glare at him, but it melts halfway through because… yeah. You do.

He straightens, dusts imaginary lint off his shirt like he’s prepping for a royal coronation. “Alright, I need to rehearse. Emotionally. For the moment your bra sails through the air like a majestic eagle.”

“Eddie.”

“I need to know… what color is it? Are we going red lace? Classic black? Maybe a wild card neon situation? Give me something to work with.”

“You’re gonna find out when it hits you in the face, Munson.”

He clutches his heart. “God, I hope it does. I want the slap. I want the sting. I want welts of love.”

You're laughing now, full tilt, and he’s basking in it like sunlight.

Then, right as you’re wiping tears of laughter from your eyes, he freezes, eyes lighting up like a cartoon character with a light-bulb.

“Oh my god.”

“What now?”

“I have to tell the guys.” He moves in the direction of the hallway phone.

Your smile fades. “Eddie…”

“Don’t try to stop me. They’ll want to be emotionally prepared. Gareth might cry.”

“No- Eddie, don’t-!”

But he’s already taken off, sock-skidding down the hall with a shout of, “GUYS, SHE’S THROWING HER BRA AT ME TONIGHT!” Moments later.

You cover your face with both hands, sighing deeply into your palms.

Somewhere down the hall, an echo of chaos erupts- shouts, cheers, someone, probably Grant, shrieking “CALL THE PRESS!”

You exhale slowly.

You’re definitely going to have to wear something worth throwing now.

You stand in front of your closet like it’s a battlefield and you’re the lone surviving soldier.

Because what does one wear to your maybe-not-a-date date with your sorta-not-boyfriend boyfriend who just asked you to come watch him fulfill his lifelong dream on stage?

It’s not just about looking hot- though, let’s be honest, it’s a little about looking hot… It’s about picking something that says I support you, without screaming, ‘I’m imagining our future wedding’ during his second guitar solo.

You pull out a few contenders. A band tee- too obvious. A dress- too formal. Jeans and that top he once complimented in a way that made you feel like you’d been tasered… hmm… promising.

You toss them onto the bed, frowning thoughtfully as you run through possibilities. Hair up? Down? Do you wear makeup that might melt off under stage lights if you end up dancing like a lunatic? You probably will.

You’re still elbow-deep in outfit strategy when your pager buzzes with a message from Eddie:

Eddie: Heads up: told the guys you’re definitely coming tonight. Regret everything. Prepare for war.

You barely have time to process that before your phone rings.

You pick up, already bracing.

“Well, well, well,” Gareth croons, “look who’s making a groupie outta herself.”

“Excuse me,” you say, flatly. “I’m a supportive friend.”

“Sure, sure,” Jeff chimes in from the background. “Supportive enough to wear a thong with his face on it, maybe?”

“Oh my god—”

“Hey, no judgment!” Grant yells over the noise. “I’d do it too if I thought it would get us better sound check times.”

You’re laughing so hard you can barely breathe.

Eddie’s voice cuts in, muffled and irritated. “Guys, shut up-”

“Is she gonna flash us some naked titties from the crowd?” Gareth asks. “Because we need to work that into the lighting cues.”

“I will hang up this phone,” Eddie growls.

“I just think it’s sweet,” Jeff adds in a faux-sincere tone. “Our boy’s finally bringing his muse. That’s romance, man.”

You can hear Eddie groaning, probably dragging his hands down his face.

“You guys are actual feral animals,” he mutters. Then, quieter, to you: “I told you. Wild dogs. No fear. No shame.”

And you can’t help it- you beam.

“Tell ‘em they better play good,” you say, all sugary menace. “Because I will be there. And I’m a tough critic.”

There’s a chorus of howls, hoots, and one particularly alarming moan that you're pretty sure came from Grant.

Eddie sighs again, long-suffering and theatrical, but when he speaks again, there’s warmth in his voice. That pride, that bashful joy, that ‘she’s really coming’, glow you’re starting to recognize in him.

“Can’t wait to see you, sweetheart,” he says.

And neither can you.

The venue is packed- hot, sticky, and alive with the kind of electric energy that only comes when a crowd is this close to losing their collective minds. The air smells like spilled beer, sweat, and the faint metallic tang of stage lights burning too bright.

And then there’s him.

Eddie Munson, bathed in red and blue spotlights, sweat glistening on his bare chest where his shirt had been abandoned somewhere between the first song and the second. His hair is wild, sticking to his forehead, his lips curled in that wicked, knowing smirk as he prowls the edge of the stage like a predator.

And god, does he know how to work a crowd.

His fingers fly over the strings of his guitar with practiced ease, his body moving with the music like it’s an extension of him. He’s alive up there- more alive than you’ve ever seen him. Every riff, every growl into the mic, every cocky tilt of his head is pure, unfiltered Eddie, and the audience eats it up like they’ve been starving for it.

And so do you.

You’re pressed against the barrier, close enough to see the way his muscles flex with every movement, close enough to watch the way his throat works when he throws his head back and howls into the mic. Close enough to see the way his eyes lock onto yours mid-song, dark and burning, like he’s playing just for you.

And then- then... he does it.

Between songs, while the crowd screams for more, Eddie leans down, grips the barrier right in front of you, and grins.

“You enjoying the show, sweetheart?” he purrs, voice rough from singing, dripping with that signature Munson charm.

You can barely hear him over the noise, but you don’t need to. You feel it.

“I think you promised me something about an autograph,” you shout back, grinning.

His laugh is pure sin as he straightens up, rolling his shoulders. “Oh, baby, you’re gonna have to earn that.” He gestures to your bra, and waggles his eyebrows.

And then he’s gone, spinning back into the chaos of the stage, leaving you breathless and grinning like an idiot.

Because this is Eddie Munson.

Not the guy who burns toast.

Not the guy who hogs the bathroom in the morning or leaves his socks on the couch or calls you “babe” in front of other guys to stake a claim like an absolute menace.

This Eddie is untouchable.

A stage-devouring demon with a devil’s grin and guitar licks sharp enough to wound.

And he just looked you dead in the eye and asked for your bra.

Again.

You’re half-laughing, half-swooning, absolutely unhinged with secondhand adrenaline as the next song kicks in- some gnarly, pulse-pounding anthem you’ve never heard before, but you know without question he wrote it. The chords are fast and filthy, the lyrics low and growled like a promise of sin, and you don’t even have to wonder who it’s about.

He doesn’t stop looking at you.

Even while shredding like a madman, even while headbanging with the force of a hurricane, his gaze keeps dragging back to you like you’re gravity. Like you’re the anchor. Like you’re the reason he’s still tethered to Earth and not exploding into stardust from the sheer magnitude of his own cool.

And maybe you are.

And maybe that’s terrifying.

And maybe that’s exhilarating.

You know what else it is?

Inspiring.

You reach behind yourself, fingers sliding under the hem of your top. And look- are you a little tipsy from your one-and-a-half over-iced plastic cup margaritas? Sure. Are you possibly high on the spectacle of Eddie Munson in full feral rock god mode? Also yes. But most importantly.

You’re in love with the look on his face when he sees you follow through.

Because he sees you.

Mid-song.

Mid-solo.

Right there, under flickering red strobe and hazy fog machine mist, you unhook your bra with the finesse of a seasoned pro, snake it out of your sleeve like an absolute icon, and launch it.

The crowd doesn’t even notice- until he catches it.

One-handed.

Mid-riff.

Like some kind of sorcerer.

And the second it hits his hand?

The world erupts.

Screams, laughter, whooping cheers from the crowd, from the band, from some guy behind you who yells, “BRO, MARRY HER!”

Eddie howls. He spins. He holds your bra over his head like a trophy, grinning like a lunatic as he whips it around and then- then… hangs it on the mic stand like it belongs there. Like it’s part of the goddamn set.

The lights hit it. It gleams.

You can’t breathe.

And Eddie Munson looks like he might actually cry.

But he doesn’t. He plays. Harder. Louder. Better.

Because now it’s war.

Because now you’ve fed the beast.

Because now he knows- he knows, you’re on his team.

And you can feel it in every note, every beat, every wink he sends you between songs like a private message wrapped in distortion and feedback.

You watch him tear through the last song like his life depends on it.

And maybe it does.

Because he’s alive up there.

Because you’re there.

And because maybe, just maybe, your bra really was his lucky charm.

Post-show...

The moment the last note fades and the crowd roars, Eddie’s already vaulting off the stage, sweaty and wild-eyed, pushing through the throng of people like a man possessed. His fingers are still buzzing from the strings, his chest heaving, his hair sticking to his forehead in damp curls.

And then- there you are.

He crashes into you like a storm hitting shore, hands finding your waist, pulling you in so close you can feel his heart hammering against your own. His breath is hot on your skin, his lips brushing your ear as he growls, "Fuck, sweetheart- you’ve ruined me."

And then he’s kissing you.

Right there.

In front of everyone.

It’s not soft. It’s not sweet. It’s hungry- desperate, like he’s been holding back for years and just now snapped. His teeth catch your bottom lip, his hands tighten on your hips, and for a second, the entire world narrows down to the heat of his mouth, the press of his body, the way he trembles against you like he’s barely holding himself together.

The cheers and wolf-whistles erupt.

Gareth yells, "FINALLY!"

Eddie doesn’t care.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide, his lips swollen, his voice wrecked when he rasps, "You promised me a bra. You delivered. Now I owe you an autograph."

You blink up at him, dazed. "You- what?"

He grins, sharp and wicked, and then he’s dragging you backstage by the wrist, past the crew, past his bandmates who are all grinning like idiots, past the guy in the suit who looks way too professional to be there but is currently nodding approvingly at Eddie like he just won a goddamn Grammy.

Eddie doesn’t stop until you’re in the dingy little dressing room, the door slamming shut behind you, his hands already pushing you up against the nearest wall.

The second the door clicks shut, Eddie’s on you like a man starved- hands braced on either side of your head, his mouth crashing down on yours with a hunger that steals your breath. There’s nothing careful about it. No teasing, no hesitation. Just teeth and tongue and the sharp bite of lust that’s been simmering too long, boiling over with every ragged breath he sucks from your lungs.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he murmurs, lips trailing down your neck. "Tell me where you want my signature."

You shiver. "Eddie-"

“You got no idea what you just did to me out there,” he growls, his voice rougher than the gravel in his guitar tone. His thigh wedges between your legs, forcing them apart, pressing up, grinding until your knees threaten to give. “Fuckin’ launched your bra, like a damn goddess. You think I can play through that and not lose my mind?”

He doesn’t give you time to answer. His mouth is back on yours- sloppy, filthy, all tongue and dominance and desperation. And his hands- God, his hands, they're everywhere. Skimming up your sides, shoving your shirt out of the way, yanking at your jeans like they’re personally offending him.

“Gonna mark you,” he mutters against your skin as he kisses down your neck, nipping just hard enough to make you gasp. “You hear me? Gonna leave my name on you, baby. You earned it. You own me now.”

Your jeans hit the floor. Your shirt follows. He barely pulls back long enough to take you in, but when he does- oh, the look on his face. Like he’s seeing the sun for the first time. Like you hung the fucking moon.

Then he drops to his knees.

No warning. No ceremony.

Just drops.

And he groans- full-body, downright obscene, like he’s just found religion in the way your thighs part for him. Big, ringed hands gripping the tops of them like he’s anchoring himself there, mouth already dragging hot kisses along the inside, nose nuzzling close as his breath ghosts over where you’re wet and aching and so goddamn ready.

“Christ,” he mutters. “Been thinking about this since I moved in. Dreamed about it. Woke up fucking panting for it. For you.”

His tongue dips in, slow at first, then deeper, then filthy, and you swear your legs buckle. His fingers dig in tighter to hold you steady, but it’s no use- he’s not just tasting you, he’s devouring. Licking like a man making up for lost time, humming low when you moan, pulling back just to spit and smear it in with his tongue like he’s trying to ruin you from the ground up.

And when you try to stifle a gasp… when your hand hits the wall for leverage and your hips buck into his face-

He growls.

“Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” he rasps, voice wrecked from the stage, from need. “I want you loud, sweetheart. I want ‘em all to know who’s makin’ you feel like this. Let the whole fuckin’ venue hear you.”

And then- God help you, he adds fingers. Two, thick, beringed and slick and curling up inside you with a precision that proves he knows exactly what he’s doing, pumping slow at first, then faster as he licks and sucks and tongues you like he’s trying to make you cry. And he talks while he does it. Praise and filth in equal measure.

“You taste better than I dreamed. Gonna keep you on my face all night.”

“You like that, baby? Like me fuckin’ wrecking you like this?”

“Such a good girl. So fuckin’ good. Giving me everything.”

You cum like the world’s ending. No warning, no buildup, just your back arching off the wall and your fingers fisting his curls and a scream that probably echoes into the hallway, because Eddie doesn’t let up. Not until your thighs shake and your body slumps and you’re panting his name like a prayer.

Then, finally, finally, he stands.

His mouth is slick, his chin shining, and he looks wrecked- hair in disarray, eyes wild, pupils blown so wide they swallow the brown. He licks his lips like he’s trying to chase the last of your taste, and you feel your legs start to give out.

He catches you before you fall. Scoops you into his arms like it’s nothing, sets you gently down on the couch in the corner of the room, and follows you down like a man on a mission.

“I’m not done,” he breathes against your lips, kissing you again, slower this time, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “Not even close.”

He pushes your legs apart with his knee and settles between them, his belt already undone, his pants shoved low enough to free what’s been aching for you since that first riff hit the stage.

“You want my autograph, baby?” he murmurs, voice gravel and sin as he strokes himself, slick and heavy between you. “Then tell me where to sign.”

His fingers dig into your hips as he drags you closer, the rough material of his pants scraping against your bare thighs. You can feel the heat of him pressed against you, thick and heavy, his breath ragged against your neck.

"Here," you gasp, arching up against him, fingers tangling in his sweat-damp curls. "Right fucking here."

His laugh is dark, breathless, as he drags the head of his cock through your slick, teasing, torturing, before finally- finally, sinking into you with one slow, filthy thrust.

"Fuck," he groans, forehead dropping to yours, his whole body shuddering as he bottoms out. "Jesus Christ, sweetheart- fuck- you feel-"

He doesn’t finish. He can’t.

Because you’re clenching around him like a vice, and his voice cracks, his hips stuttering, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

And then he moves.

Not slow. Not gentle.

Desperate.

His thrusts are rough, uneven, like he’s barely holding on, like he’s been waiting for this too long to be careful. Every snap of his hips drags a moan from your lips, every deep grind pulls his name from your throat like a prayer.

And he watches you.

Eyes locked on yours, dark and hungry, drinking in every twitch of your face, every hitch of your breath, like he’s memorizing the way you fall apart for him.

"That’s it," he growls, voice wrecked, hips rolling against yours in a rhythm that has your toes curling. "Take it, baby. Take me. Fuck- fuck, you’re so goddamn perfect-"

His words dissolve into a groan as you clench around him again, your nails dragging down his back, his name a broken whimper on your lips.

"Eddie-"

"I know," he grits out, his thrusts turning erratic, his breath hot against your skin. "I know, sweetheart- fuck- I got you-"

And then his hand is between you, fingers circling your clit, rough and relentless, and you’re gone.

Your back arches off the couch.

Eddie curses, loud and ragged, his thrusts faltering as you pulse around him. “That’s it,” he groans, his voice like sandpaper and thunder, “fuckin’ take it, baby, just like that- good girl, my good fuckin’ girl-”

You’re shaking, every nerve ending lit up like a goddamn stage rig. Your thighs tremble against his sides, your hands scrambling for purchase- his hair, his shoulders, the couch cushions, none of it enough to anchor you from the way he’s unraveling you completely.

But Eddie-

He’s glowing.

Eyes wild. Face flushed. One arm braced for support, his hand locked tight on your hip, the other still rubbing that devastating rhythm over your clit. He watches the orgasm tear through you like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen- his mouth dropping open, chest heaving, sweat slick on his brow and neck and collarbones.

And when your body jolts with aftershocks, legs twitching around his waist…

He smiles.

Not cocky. Not smug.

Worshipful.

“Fuck, look at you,” he pants, voice wrecked with awe. “Fucking glowing, baby. So goddamn pretty when you cum for me.”

He presses a kiss to your temple, still grinding deep inside you, a little slower now but no less intense. “You okay? You good?” he breathes, nuzzling into your cheek with an almost-boyish tenderness that shouldn’t work after everything he just did- but it does, because it’s Eddie. Your Eddie. Equal parts filthy and soft, reverent and rabid.

You nod, still panting, dazed and flushed and floating. He kisses you again- soft, lingering, before murmuring against your lips, “Then hold on for me, baby. ‘Cause I’m not fuckin’ done.”

He shifts, hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle. Deeper. Sharper.

You gasp- high-pitched, choked, as he drives into you again.

“Yeah?” he growls, baring his teeth in a grin that’s nothing short of feral. “That what you needed? This what you wanted me to sign your fuckin’ soul with?”

You whimper his name, and he snaps.

“Say it again,” he hisses, his hand gripping your thigh tighter. “Say it so loud they can hear you in the goddamn parking lot.”

“Eddie,” you cry, voice cracking around it, wrecked.

“That’s right,” he growls, fucking you harder now, like he’s possessed, like there’s nothing in the world but you and him and the heat between your bodies. “God, you feel so good. So fucking good. Like you were made for me.”

Your head lolls back as pleasure builds again, unstoppable.

And Eddie knows.

Of course he knows.

His fingers are back on your clit, working in brutal tandem with every thrust. “One more, sweetheart,” he whispers against your throat, voice molten. “Give me one more. I know you’ve got it in you. Let me feel you fall apart again. Come on, baby- give it to me.”

You sob his name as it hits you- blinding, crashing, full-body tremor that has your nails digging into his arms and your eyes squeezing shut. You clench around him so tight it nearly knocks the wind out of his lungs.

“Jesus Christ—fuck!” Eddie gasps, stuttering inside you. “I’m- oh, fuck-”

His head drops back as he loses it, hips jerking wildly, breath catching, moaning your name like he’s breaking apart. And still- still, he’s praising you through it, every breath between curses laced with wonder.

“So fuckin’ tight- so wet- so perfect- fuck, baby, my girl… my fucking girl-”

You feel it. The heat, the pulse, the way he fills you with everything he has. His whole body shudders as he ruts deep, like he’s trying to bury himself in you, make a home there.

And then, silence.

Thick. Electric.

Only your mingled breathing and the pounding of your hearts, syncing up as his weight slumps over you, hands trembling against your skin.

After a moment, he lifts his head. Hair sticking to his face, eyes still dark, dazed. But his smile- God, his smile. All warmth and wonder and a little disbelief, like he just found heaven in a dressing room with velvet curtains and sticky beer on the floor.

“You okay, baby?” he murmurs, brushing sweaty hair from your face.

You nod, and he kisses your forehead like he just won a war.

Then, with a grunt, he eases back- but not far. Just enough to pull you gently into his arms, your leg draped over his hip, both of you breathless and tangled and sated… for now.

He strokes your back. Kisses your temple again. Holds you like you’re his treasure.

“Gonna need a Sharpie,” he rasps, voice still gravelly.

You blink, boneless, confused. “Why?”

He smirks, eyes glinting.

“Gotta autograph that ass before the night’s over.”

Who loves Eddie Munson, show of hands! 😂 Let me know if you want to be tagged! And to which fandom. (Bayverse TMNT, Vegeta, Eddie Munson).

@justalotoffanfiction, @yorshie, @jackalope-in-a-storm, @v1per1ne, @daveythorntonslocker, @cokepowder55

Masterlist

[oneforthemunny]

How would Mafia Eddie react if he's at a dinner party with reader. He sees the reader talking to a girl at the bar. He sees them laughing and having a good time. The girl turns around, and Eddie sees that she's a girl he used to mess around with. Reader brings the girl over to the table where Eddie is at, to introduce her to him.... i need to know lol

mafia!eddie my love!!!!!!! this is so fun. as we all know, mafia!eddie's reader (aka me) is very jealous lol. so this is a funsie little blurb haha. contains language and mafia type themes. really just silly fun fluff, a little angst if you squint.

"I'm going to grab another drink." You leaned over, pressing a kiss to Eddie's cheek, hollowed around the cigar he was smoking.

"I'll get it for you, baby-"

"-I got it, Ed." You smiled, hand wrapped around the empty martini glass. "You're talking. I'll be right back." Your hand squeezed his shoulder in reassurance, stepping away from the large table towards the bar.

Rick's annual poker party, a rewarding get together for all his 'friends', and an excuse to gamble and drink themselves silly. It was also an excuse to get dressed up, hang on Eddie's arm while he paraded you around in the newest Versace dress, straight off the runway.

"Can I have another martini? Dirty, please." You slid your empty glass over to the bartender with a smile.

"I like your dress." A voice from beside you pulled your attention. You were pleasantly surprised to see another girl, one your age.

"Thank you." You smiled back, hands smoothing down the black fabric. "I like your shoes. Those are so cute."

"Thanks," The girl giggled. "My boyfriend bought them for me. An apology gift for missing my birthday last week. He was with some of the guys in Miami."

You sucked in a breath, grimacing. "Yikes. I've been there. One of the biggest fights me and my boyfriend got into was because he kept missing dates, and not calling."

"Yes!" The girl gaped, her manicured hand slapping the bar lightly. "They never call."

"Never."

"And then they act like you're not supposed to be upset?"

"Oh my god, yes." You groaned in agreement. "And then they show up and wonder why you're pissed. Like they didn't just stand you up."

The girl beside you laughed in agreement. "Yeah, well, at least that's when the good part comes." She looked at you over her wine glass, a brow lifted. "That's when the gifts come."

You gave a nervous laugh, shifting uncomfortably. You knew there were girls like her, who used the men in Eddie's line of work for the benefits- for the money.

"I'm Goldie, by the way." Her bangles rattled when she stuck her hand out for you to take, you repeating your own name with a gentle shake of her hand.

"Are you new here? Or new to this?" Goldie asked, nodding towards the blackjack table of men behind you.

"Sorta. More new to getting to come to these things." You giggled softly. "My boyfriend doesn't always come. I usually have to persuade him."

"I wish." Goldie snorted lightly. "My boyfriend would come to every single event they had if I let him." She pursed her lips, setting down her glass.

"And see that's the other thing- they can always come to these things, but not dinner with my parents?"

"Oh, yeah," You laughed lightly. "That's like pulling teeth. He acts like I'm holding him at gunpoint of something when I ask him to come home with me for the holidays."

Eddie's eyes wandered back over to you from his place at the table, a fluttering glance that turned into a quick headed turn. His heart dropped, trying to keep his expression neutral as he looked at the girl beside you- Goldie.

Goldie liked to hang around guys like Eddie. Always at the right places at the right times, and always ready to get a hotel room with them. And Eddie had done that with her, a time or two actually, before he met you.

He tried to play it cool, swallow back his beating heart when you started towards him, martini in hand, a smile on your face, and Goldie trailing behind you.

"Ed," You called, so sweetly, it made him feel a little sick. Maybe she hadn't told you?

"Ed, I wanted you to meet Goldie. I met her at the bar." You giggled, clearly a little tipsy, getting silly the way you always did when you drank.

"Goldie, this is my boyfriend. This is-"

"-Eddie." Goldie clicked her tongue playfully, her tone raising in octave. "It's so good to see you again."

You faltered, looking from her back to Eddie, face falling in confusion. How did she know him? Maybe through her boyfriend? If so, then why does Eddie's face look like that?

"You two know each other?" You lifted a brow.

"Yes-"

"Not really-"

Eddie avoided her stare, refusing to look at her, his face stoic and cold. Goldie's had shifted into something that made your chest tighten with a familiar territorial rage. Her lashes batting towards him, hip jutted, and chest dipped low to show her slipping cleavage.

"Hm," You hummed, setting your drink down, your lips pursed. "Well, it was good talking to you." You smiled politely, purposefully taking a seat in Eddie's lap, your arms wrapped around his neck.

You didn't miss the way her face fell. "Hopefully I see you here next time." You flashed a dazzling smile, your hand sliding up Eddie's neck sweetly, pushing his curls back. "It's always good to have another girl friend here."

Goldie stammered out a response, excusing herself with her head hung.

Eddie was rigid under you, watching you carefully, studying your body language when you turned back to him. "Goldie, hm?" You lifted a brow. He knew better than to answer, still unsure.

"So how many girls have you fucked here?" You scoffed, eyes narrowing at him.

"I don't remember. I just know none of them matter." Eddie schmoozed, hoping your tipsy state would allow him a little grace until you were back home. "Because none of them were as good as you."

His lips pressed to your cheek, strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you in. You hummed in response, unamused, but still letting him kiss you.

"I'm sure." You deadpanned, eyes rolling to meet his.

"'M serious, sweetheart." Eddie whispered, lips vibrating against your cheek. Normally, he'd never show such affection in public, but he'd give in tonight, he knew you needed it and he needed to. "You're too good. Made me forget all of them. None of them compare to you. You know that. You're better in every single way."

You melted at his words, giggling and pressing your face into his neck, playfully nipping the skin there just to feel him go rigid under your touch. You'd blame it on the alcohol, for your lack of reaction- for now, anyways. Tomorrow morning, Eddie was greeted with a dull hangover headache, and a furious you, standing over him, hand on hip, demanding to know more.