#eddie munson is the love of my life

[eddies-whoreee]

Bite-able

Summary: Your best friend is irresistible.

CW: best friend!Eddie, best friend!reader, perv!reader, kinda sub!Eddie, allusions to sex, and lots of sexual and strong language.

A/N: This was so short I’m sorry I’ve been trying to write but I’ve had writers block. I’ve been trying to work on ideas ppl send me but I just never can finish it. The endings are hard to come up with but please keep sending your ideas I’ll try to turn them into more than just blurbs.

It was hottter than hell inside Eddie’s trailer and it was even hotter outside. You two opted for the coolest room which was his, not that you two had much to pick from the 1,000 sq ft. that you have. He had a old air conditioner that needed the filter to be changed. And a white 15 dollar box fan. “Holy shit it’s hotter than satan’s balls in here” Eddie exclaims as he sits up from his bed where he’s been working on a campaign for hours. “Duh, it’s July and Indiana it’s gonna get worse the next couple of days” you reply look up from your book, to him. You sat down on the floor on his beanbag. “Heat rises, that’s why I’m sitting on the floor” you peep directing your gaze back to the book. You hear him huff a small laugh before standing up. He stood there by his night stand rummaging through his drawer. You decide to get up and check out his campaign since you’re his favorite hellfire member you’re allowed a sneak-peak. As you approach the bed you see the various creatures he has drawn out. Just then you plop down on the bed your knees folded under you as you face Eddie. “Do you have a hair tie? At this point Im willing to chop all of this shit off” he huffs dramatically. You roll your eyes playfully before handing him the tie. “You say that every summer” you declare as you watch him go to tie his hair up. You watch the sliver of skin appear as his shirt rides up his slinky waist. Your feel your mouth hang open. You felt goosebumps cover your body making you slightly shiver. Eddie was talking about something as he collected all of his hair in one hand using the other to pull the hair tie over the hair and pull it through. His shirt playing a game with you as it covers his v-line then exposes it again. His waist looks so soft, smooth, and

Bite-able.

“Ow! What the- did you just bite me” he yelps jumping back a little arms flying to your shoulders not pushing you away just sitting there. He looked down shocked. You looked up at him then back to what you were doing. Your hands were placed on either side of his waist and your face was inches from his skin. “Well-yeah you, looked… bite-able” you stuttered to find an answer. He lets out a pant, a sigh of approval. “W-Jesus, you can’t be doing that, you could give someone a heart attack” he tries to joke how flustered he is right now. “Or in your case a boner?” You ask with an all but innocent smirk. His eyes widen as he tries to explain. You chuckle as your hands move up his shirt to drag your nails lightly across his chest making him let out a small whine. “Eddie?” You ask now inches from his neck as you teased him. He wanted so badly to feel your lips on his skin. “You want to fuck me?” You ask teasingly as you kissed up his neck while your hands groped his hard-on. “Yes please” he whimpered, becoming completely goop at your touch. “Then lock the door” you say as if it were common knowledge (which it is). He nods and waste no time in getting to the door and fumbling around with the lock. You giggle at his eagerness. As he got back to you he gripped your waist pulling you on top of him to straddle his lap. He plopped down on the bed as he pulled you into a heated kiss. You grind down on his boner making him buck into you. “Less. Clothes.” He manages through the kiss that none of you wanted to pull away from. With that you two started throwing various items of clothing off. “Y/n?” He ask panting heavily. “Yes?” You ask taking off your bra. “Bite me more”

[littlelioncub43]

The Balcony Scene

Summary: A long farewell after a date night is nothing new between you and your very dramatic and theatrical boyfriend. Young lovers often find parting is such sweet sorrow.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Gender Neutral!Reader

Warning: FLUFF. FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF. You will need to schedule a dentist appointment after this, established relationship, idiots in love, they recite Shakespeare to each other because they're so in love, Wayne being one of those dads/uncles, kissing, very tame stuff, you'll love it.

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: WELL, WELL, WELL. LOOK WHO'S BACK. Me. It's me. I'm back. I had this thought knocking around in my head for a long, long time and finally was able to get it out and completed in one sitting! Eddie seems like the type to be able to perfectly recite Shakespeare, especially after all the failed English classes— you may not come at me. Anyways! Comment! Reblog! Send an ask! A pigeon! An edible arrangement! Something! Let me know what you guys think! I missed you all hehe

Kisses 💋

—K

A soft song of the Indiana crickets floated through the summer breeze that brushed your skin, the sky was a gentle hue of all encompassing black, and the moon hung neatly in the corner of the heavens. The familiar block of the trailer park was quiet, the sleepy summer night lulled everyone into a trance at this late hour. Your night was divine, picturesque and flawless thanks to Eddie who always seemed to make any day infinitely better. He joked and laughed with you over the burger you shared at the diner, his effortless charm and beaming smile lit up the lamely lit booth you were squished into and sent butterflies fluttering through your entire being— even after all these years, you were still into him. 

Lovesick, is the word. Absolutely lovesick.

And Eddie wasn’t any better. 

The way he was gazing up at you from the bottom of your trailer’s porch, hands gripping the railing to be as close as he could to you without climbing the stairs, standing on his toes so your faces nearly touched while you lean over the railing to meet him halfway. Those puppy dog eyes that twinkled with mischief as a dungeon master, and glazed over with mind-rotting boredom as a student, were now dazzling with adoration as a lover. And damn, was a he a good lover at that. 

“You have to go soon, Wayne said you gotta be back before 3,” you whisper gently to your boyfriend, your hands making no motion to remove themselves from his hair as you cradle his head. 

“Mmhmm,” Eddie hums, clearly not listening to you completely. How could he when the glow of your porch light behind you made you look like an actual angel. You giggle and Eddie grins at the sound. 

“You jerk, you’re not even listening,” you chastise with a smile.

“I totally heard you,” he playfully defends in a soft voice, his eyes scanning your face leisurely. 

“What did I say?” You ask while you twirl a ringlet around your index finger. 

“You said that I should stay right here with you forever because you never want me to leave,” he grins again as you chuckle at his words. 

“Don’t you?” He asks and gives you his gentle pout, something he’s perfected over the years of being together: his eyebrows slightly pinched together and upwards, those button eyes silently pleading with yours, for your love, for your tenderness, for your sympathy. It always works. 

“Of course, I do,” you confess and cradle his face in your palm. Eddie couldn’t keep himself from you if his life depended on it. The collision of your lips sends even more winged things fluttering in your stomach, the soft cushion of his lips moving against yours sensually nearly sucks all the breath from your body then and there. Many minutes are lost in your sweet kisses, so many that by the time you both release each other for air, Eddie knows he’s late for curfew now. 

“Wayne’s gonna be pissed, I forgot to take out the trash,” Eddie breathes out humorously, his nose brushing against yours as he opens his mouth to speak once again, “he’s going to have my ass for not—“

“Enough, sweet Suffolk, thou torment’st thyself,” you press a finger to his kiss swollen lips, his grin grows at your words. 

“You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave?” He recites effortlessly. 

“Oh, look who’s been paying attention in English,” you tease. 

“Well, if you’re forced to read the same stupid plays 3 years in a row, something’s bound to stick,” he jokes before continuing, “Now, by the ground that I am banished from, well could I curse away a winter’s night, though standing naked on a mountain top where biting cold would never let grass grow, and think it but a minute spent in sport.”

“O, let me entreat thee cease! Give me thy hand, that I may dew it with my mournful tears, nor let the rain of heaven wet this place to wash away my woeful monuments” you bring one of Eddie’s large hands to your cheek, letting him brush the apple of it softly before you plant a peck to his palm. 

“O, could this kiss be printed in thy hand, that thou mightst think upon these by the seal, through whom a thousand sighs are breathed for thee!” The porch light across the road flickers to life, a sign from a very tired Wayne for Eddie’s return, but you both ignore it. Eddie watches in rapture as you recite the lines to him, not ready for his short walk home just yet. 

“So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief; tis but surmised whiles thou art standing by, as one that surfeits thinking on a want. I will repeal thee, or, be well assured, adventure to be banish’ed myself; and banish’ed I am, if but from thee,” the sound of the screen door opening breaks your eyes from each other over to Wayne, standing cross armed in his pajamas under the porch light, “Go, speak not to me. Even now be gone!” Eddie steals another kiss just as Wayne clears his throat, his hands gripping yours in earnest. “Embrace and kiss and take ten thousand leaves, loather a hundred times to part than die. Yet now farewell, and farewell life with thee.”

“Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banish’ed, once by the King, and three times thrice by thee. ’Tis not the land I care for, wert thou thence. A wilderness is populous enough, so Suffolk had thy heavenly company— for where thou art, there is the world itself, with every several pleasure in the world; and where thou art not, desolation,” he whispers against your lips, “I can no more. Live thou to joy thy life; myself no joy in naught but that thou liv’st.”

“Eddie!” Wayne calls in a hushed voice, mindful of the sleeping neighbors of the block. You know he’s about 2 minutes from crossing the street to get Eddie himself.

“Get thee hence. The King, thou know’st, is coming,” you giggle and push gently at Eddie’s broad shoulders, “if thou be found by me, thou art but dead.”

“If I depart from thee, I cannot live, and in thy sight to die, what were it else but like a pleasant slumber in thy lap? To die by thee were but to die in jest, from thee to die were torture more than death. O, let me stay, befall what may befall!” His grins when you try to shush his growing voice, your shared giggles making Wayne shake his head with a fond smile. You two were making him sick.

“To France, Sweet Suffolk,” you push at Eddie’s shoulder again, this time he slowly lets himself lower to the ground completely, still gazing up at you from the wild grass as waves of hopeless devotion pour from him. Eddie’s hand holds yours for as long as he can, his fingers gliding across the skin to savor the sensation, your warmth. 

“I go,” he nods, shifting on his feet as he finally begins to tear himself from you.

“And take my heart with thee,” you watch Eddie take a tentative step backwards, towards his waiting uncle, your hands still connected as he takes another step. Your arms reach out, fingers laced together until the distance between you is too great. 

“Alright, love birds, pack it in,” Wayne quietly calls, trying his best to speed up Eddie’s slow walk home. Straightening up, you watch as Eddie crosses the street, his eyes never leaving yours nor his smile ever faltering. When he reaches the middle of the road, he offers you a wave over his shoulder. You giggle and return his gesture, your face burning with a flurry of feelings.

Another fit of giddy giggles overtake you when Eddie nearly trips on the steps of his trailer. He’s quick to recover, taking the stairs two at a time before lingering at the doorway to stare at you a little while longer, his own face flushed with his happiness. Half in and half out, he raises his hand to wave again when a fatherly grip on the collar of his jacket carefully pulls him all the way in, the screen door bouncing against the frame in his absence. With a content sigh, you turn on your heel  and head for indoors, turning to glance at the trailer across the street. There in the corner of the bland building, behind an aged window, you find the boy next door. With wild hair and a sweet smile, he bids you goodnight. 

Comments and reblogs are always welcome and deeply appreciated! 💖🫂

I no longer have a taglist! If you'd like to stay up-to-date on when I post, follow @littlelioncub-library 💖

[gretavanmunson]

Eddie Munson Headcanons pt.3

Part 1 here, part 2 here

Is terrible at math (Ms. O’Donnell taught math)

He’s actually really good at science, it’s his favorite subject

But actually he just likes to blow things up in chemistry

Proceeded to get escorted out of chemistry after blowing something up

He used his time in art to work on his campaigns; drawing out maps and characters. Always got an A, might I add

Has snapped so many pencils while attempting to do math

(Modern AU) Loved Donnie Darko and dressed up as Frank for Halloween one year

Sleeps like a star fish and wakes up with his blanket kicked on the floor along with himself

Says “pew, pew, pew” when playing games at the arcade, he has many sound effects

He loves hot chocolate but he won’t drink it unless it has mini marshmallows in it. He loves those little guys

——————————————————————————

Authors note:

Please let me know if you guys want to see more of these, because trust me, I will keep them coming. I could also do some for other characters 🫣

-Iz <3

[mmunson86]

Am I the only one that got introduced to fan fiction via Eddie Munson? Like I know I can’t be alone right? I’ve always known what fanfiction is… but my interest, never really peaked until we were introduced to Eddie , there is no other fictional man that I thirst for or that i am this intrigued by other than Eddie and I’ve tried to read fan fics for other fictional men & they just dont stick, it doesn’t do it for me, Eddie is my fictional man 4L!💗🤞🏻 He is my endgame🥹

Am i alone in this? Is it odd? lol Eddie is all i need he has it all IMO💗

[mmunson86]

There are levels to this baby i should be in Eddies arms errryday🙈💗

YOU should be at the club I should be in the arms of a fictional character

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

steve “cant get out of bed till middle of the day, barely leaves his house or is never home, isolating himself from everyone, never takes time for himself anymore, depressed and is slowly losing more and more of himself every single day” harrington post 1986’

robin “i know you loved her, and it must’ve killed that she wouldn’t take you back, but nancy is happy steve and she still loves you. she’s not the only one out there for you, and you’ve gotta get over it. we miss you” buckley post 1986’, trying to help her best friend

steve “…this isn’t about nancy” harrington.

robin “wha-?… oh. oh steve.” buckley.

he still wears the vest.

[eddiesghxst]

that part at the end of grease where rizzo is on the ferris wheel and kenickie yells up at her and is like “get off of that thing, you got a condition” because he thinks she’s pregnant except that’s just what eddie says allllll throughout your pregnancy.

if he sees you standing on a chair to reach something high, he’s quickly (and jokingly) snapping at you, “get down from there, you’ve got a condition.”

you’re on your feet too long? “babe, you’ve got a condition, for the love of god, sit down.”

he’s so annoying. when you’re at a restaurant and the waiter asks if you’d like a drink because you’re not showing yet, he just casually spits it out, doesn’t even need to look up from the menu as he says, “nah, she’s got a condition.” and you have to kick him under the table before telling the waiter you’re just pregnant and your husbands annoying

you don’t even have to be there for eddie to crack the joke, if someone asks how you are he’s casually saying “she’s good! been craving real weird shit lately— you know, her condition.”

and everyone just understands that nah, you’re perfectly fine. just pregnant… with a dramatic husband <3

[princess-eddie]

Did you mean Eddie Munson?

i miss them (fictional character i think about literally every single day)

[eddies-ashtray]

I MISS HIM

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part twenty-six

679 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twenty-one twenty-two twenty-three twenty-four twenty-five

Steve studies Eddie’s sketches with a frown. They’re thumbnails of people in different positions, and Steve can’t help but compare them to his own. Perhaps he simply has to come to terms with the fact that he’ll never be a good artist. He thought he was improving, given all the time and effort he’s putting into the portraits, especially Eddie’s, but no. He still sucks.

The point of the assignment wasn’t to make the drawings good - only to provide a quick recap on anatomy. Still, though, Eddie’s are good. And Steve’s… Well, at least Steve isn’t going to get a poor grade (because that’s frowned upon when the student tries their best).

The figures on his paper are unproportionate and vaguely unsettling, like his art tends to be.

“They can’t be that bad, Steve,” Eddie says, naively.

Steve had unthinkingly shielded his paper from the other teen - a habit he’d picked up from the project, and when Steve had asked, Eddie had handed his own over passively because he’s a fucking art prodigy, apparently.

Steve slumps in his seat and places his paper in front of Eddie. He hadn’t even pushed to see it. Not once. Now, he picks it up and studies the sketches for a solid minute, brows furrowed in concentration. 

Steve’s frown deepens considerably. He’s beginning to regret handing it over for judgment. Eventually, though, Eddie sets the paper on the table and looks up to make sure he has Steve’s attention before he issues his verdict. As if Steve’s attention is ever directed elsewhere.

Once assured Steve’s eyes are on him, Eddie picks up his pencil and hovers over the paper with the eraser aimed at it. “May I?” he questions. 

Steve huffs. "Sure. ‘S not like they can get any worse," he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. Eddie erases things here and there. Steve thinks he's about to begin fixing the drawings, but he simply straightens and slides the paper over to Steve. He leans in close and points to one of the places he had erased. "Okay, so...” 

He continues to suggest ways Steve could make them look more like the references. 

At the end of class, Steve actually feels better footed - ready to finish up his portraits. He's almost done with his own, actually, and he only needs a few more things until he'll be satisfied with Eddie's. 

The bell rings and Steve turns to make plans with Eddie only to find the teen already looking at him expectantly. "Uh, my place?" Steve suggests. It's only fair after Eddie had hosted on Monday. 

Eddie nods in acknowledgement. "Sounds good, Stevie."

Steve clears his throat, trying not to let it show that he’s aware his face has begun to flame with the arrival of the nickname. 

Stevie. 

It's not like it's unprecedented, people have called him Stevie here and there for as long as he can remember.

It feels different coming from Eddie, though. Makes him feel special.

"You wanna follow my car, then?" Steve asks, standing from his seat finally. 

Eddie levels him with a look that's hard to interpret. "Bold of you to assume the entire school doesn't know where your castle is, Mr. Keg King." 

Right, he'd forgotten about the parties. 

Steve scratches his check. "Huh, right. Meet you there?”

Eddie agrees and Steve finally takes his leave. 

Hours later, when dismissal has rolled around, Steve is trying to remember what state he'd left the house in that morning.

He doesn’t go to his locker even though Eddie’s library book - which he’d picked up yesterday - is in his locker and he’d wanted to grab it for tonight. He's trying to avoid Tommy. He knows his friend will just act like nothing ever happened. And to him, nothing did. He's probably forgotten already, honestly. 

Steve doesn't forget - he never does.

He goes straight to his bimmer and unlocks and opens the door, but as he’s about to descend into his seat, a hand claps him on the back and he straightens again. 

So, Tommy's found him anyway. Great.

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[unsolved-duvall]

𝐏𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐞.𝐦. (𝟏𝟖+)

Eddie always leaves his rings on. Always. No matter what, the rings stay on. That was a hard and fast rule.

The first time Eddie had fingered you he had left his rings on and you swear you almost died there and then. Ecstasy rolling through your body and threatening to overwhelm you.

Your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head and your breathy moans filled the comforting silence of Eddie’s bedroom as he turned you into a whimpering, desperate mess beneath him. With just his fingers in your dripping cunt and his mouth on your hickey covered neck.

But one day Eddie hesitated before dipping his hand down to where you needed him most. Some emotion you couldn’t quite place flashed across his face, and he took his rings off, one by one. Gently picking up your hand and placing a ring on three of your fingers. He didn’t say anything whilst he did it, and neither did you.

He carried on as normal after that. Pulling orgasm after orgasm from you until you couldn’t feel your legs and the only thoughts that filled your mind was EddieEddieEddie.

He did it again the next night. Taking his rings off and placing them carefully on your fingers. Your firm grip on the mattress beneath you, as Eddie fucked into you, kept them from falling off. With his breathy moans in your ear and his rings on your hand you had never felt so close to him. So completely consumed by everything about him.

You never asked why he did it. Why he placed his rings on your hands every time you had sex.

Why sometimes he did it when you weren’t having sex.

Why he picked up your hand and placed a ring on your finger, immediately returning his attention back to the film you where both watching. You would only lean further back into his chest, his arms wrapping tighter around you, in a quiet acknowledgement of what he did.

He never said a word to you about why he did it, letting his actions speak for him.

But one day you walked into his bedroom and saw a small box on one of the pillows on his bed.

With shaky hands you opened the box to find a silver chain. Attached to it, a ring. His favourite ring.

The juxtaposition of the heavy ring and the delicate silver necklace caused too many emotions to flood through you at once. Tears threatened to fall down your rose-blushed cheeks and you had to sit yourself on the bed to steady yourself.

Holding the necklace tight in one hand, a scrap of paper that was previously hidden by the box placed on top of it, caught your eye. You picked it up and read Eddie’s writing scrawled on it.

“So there’s always a piece of me with you - E”

[littlelioncub43]

Hes literally a baby angel..... a heavy metal listening, drug dealing, d&d playing, silly but sweet, baby angel.

Wayne saying that his nephew looks scary is so shocking to me. especially in this scene because he’s so fucking pretty all I want to do is kiss him.

[ryan-waddell11]

Eddie drinking Mountain Dew out of the chalice is so dramatic. I expect nothing less.

[inflomora-art]

them <3

[xxladymjxx]

We love and Stan Eddie Munson in this house!

Mental illness can be cured by thinking about The Character but be careful because mental illness can also be caused by thinking about The Character

[steveshairychest]

Steve volunteers at his local library a few days a week because he likes the lack of people and the comfort of being surrounded by so many stories he can escape into. Tuesdays are his favourite to work because of one particular reason, or well, person.

Every Tuesday, that reason bounces into the library, guitar in hand and a smile on his face that's so bright it lights up the dim library. Steve watches him subtly through the gaps in between books on the shelf he is organising. He's not been brave enough to approach the boisterous soul that sings and reads stories to the children. Steve's never heard his voice, but from the way the children smile and jump up from their seats, he'd say the guy isn't that bad.

Steve usually finishes his shift just before the bright-eyed man is due to leave. Normally, he'd grab his things and hurry off as quickly as he can to avoid the man that always seems so eager to talk to him. It's not that Steve doesn't like him, he actually likes him a lot, he's just still learning to read lips and even from a distance, he can tell that the musician speaks really fast.

He's just about to walk through the front doors when he feels a light tap on his shoulder. It's the musician. He's got his guitar slung over his back and a small smile pulling at his lips. "Trying to escape me again?" He signs perfectly.

Steve is so stunned he forgets to reply.