#eddie munson comfort

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

And then there were three.

Eddie munson x pregnant!reader

Summary: you and Eddie find out you're pregnant.

Warnings: fluff, talks of pregnancy, pulling out, condoms etc. Talks of sex. Kissing.

WC: 2.5k

A/n not proofread. I'm posting because it's been rotting away in my drafts. Sorry if this isn't good. I don't even remember what it's about.

18+ minors dni

"This can't be real..." You whispered to yourself as you stared blankly at the piece of plastic in your hands. Staring at two little pink lines.

Two little tiny pink lines telling you you're pregnant. How? You and Eddie have always been careful. You used protection every single time you had sex.

You've had scares in the past where your periods were weeks late. But when you ended up being over a month late this time around. You decided it was time to take a test. You had a gut feeling you might have been pregnant.

You were exhausted more so than usual. Extremely sensitive and had nausea every morning and evening. Were you surprised? No. Shocked? Yes. There was a little part of you hoping you were wrong. A baby right now just wasn't in yours and Eddie's plan.

You've only been dating for almost two years now. While having a family with him is something you do want. Getting a head start right now just wasn't ideal. You only just moved in together this past summer.

Now that you hold this little test strip in your shaking hands, you know you'll have to break the news to your boyfriend eventually. He's out in the living room watching The Golden Girls. A show you never would have guessed was his favorite. You heard his laughter echoing around the trailer during the cheesecake episode.

Was he going to be mad? Would he scream and yell at you? Blame this all on you? You thought to yourself. You felt like you were going to throw up out of nervousness.

No. Eddie wouldn't be upset with you over something like this. He isn't that type of person. No matter how others viewed him to be. He isn't like that. You can't even remember a time he raised his voice to you. You soothed yourself down, taking deep breaths.

Opening up the bathroom door, you make your way over to him.

"Hey baby, come watch." He pats the cushion next to him.

You swallow hard. "Uh, can we turn this off for a sec?"

Eddie looks up, noticing there was something very wrong with you.

"Uh, sure." He grabbed the remote, switching the tv off.

"Well, there isn't any better way to tell you this, so I'm just gonna say......I'm pregnant." You blurted out.

Eddie laughed at first. "Pregnant. Okay." He takes a sip of his beer. His laughter quickly died when you saw the serious and very scared look on your face.

"You took a test?" He gulped.

"Yeah, just a few minutes ago." You swallow another lump in your throat.

You immediately start to panic again, "We're always careful. I don't know how this happened."

Eddie stands to quickly be by your side. He hasn't really had time to process what you just told him. His immediate focus right now is calming you down.

We're careful...WE'RE ALWAYS CAREFUL!" You shouted. Your face is growing hot, and you feel like you could pass out any moment.

"You always wear a condom you fuckin' keep them in your wallet for christ sake"

"I know, baby, but I mean those things don't always work," Eddie reassured you softly, rubbing your back.

"We're always careful." You repeated again.

"Well, let's think back to when we weren't careful." He's trying to help put the pieces together. There had to have been a time when you both were so caught up in each that he didn't put on a condom or something.

"When was there a time I didn't at least wear one?"

"I dunno." You tap your fingers against your forehead. While Eddie guides you to sit down on the couch. "There had to have been a night - where - we..." You trailed off.

"My parents," you gasped loudly, snapping your fingers together.

His brows shoot up, and his eyes widen. He suddenly remembers that night very, very well. But he pulled out. He knows he did.

"When we stayed the night because of the storm" You continued on. The memory of that night flooding back to you. That was it. Eddie had promised to pull out right before he finished - yet obviously didn't do it in enough time.

There was something in the air that day. You couldn't pinpoint what it was. You had told Eddie to behave, but at dinner, you were the one misbehaving. Teasing him a little. Trying to get a rise out of him. You didn't think he was still going to be worked up even after it was time for bed. You were wrong. Very wrong.

"Huh," Eddie sounded utterly perplexed. He moves to sit down next to you. trying to bring you any amount of comfort he can offer.

"Huh what?" You repeated back to him. Why wasn't he as freaked out like you?

"Jus' the fact that I got you pregnant on a pull out couch is fucking ironic" He was in disbelief. Absolute disbelief. He knew pulling out wasn't his strong suit, but he never thought from just that one time would get you pregnant.

Was Eddie upset you were pregnant? No. Not at all. Having kids with you was something he always saw in your future together. How could he be so stupid, though? He thought. The one time he doesn't use a condom and you get knocked up.

"Are you--are you joking right now?" Your mouth hangs open. "Don't joke, please don't joke."

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Everything will be okay. " He pulls you to him. Your head lays flat against his chest. He was trying to be supportive, but on the inside he's freaking out. When he freaks out, he makes dumb jokes to lighten the mood. Something he knows he shouldn't have done, but it's too late now.

"Sooooo at yours parents place it was then." He draws out leaning forward to rest a hand under his chin.

"I guess." You murmured.

Eddie smiles fondly to himself. He most definitely remembered that day. That night, most importantly.

"....well," He perks up, jumping up to stand. He was trying to be as optimistic as possible. Truthfully, on the inside, he was freaking out. If you weren't sitting there in front of him right now, he would probably be pissing himself. Eddie knows you would be an amazing mother to his children. He most definitely knows he would be a great father, too. A complete contrast to how his father was.

"Time to make some calls." He was already heading for the phone when you panicked, running over to stop him. "We can't not yet--i need to see a doctor first."

"To make sure I am...I mean I know I am, but I need confirmation,"you further explained. Eddie just stood there listening to you and agreed as he silently nodded his head.

"Okay, well, after we see the doctor, who are we telling first? Your parents or my parent?" He was so eager to tell everyone. He was terrified, but the more he thought about it, the more excited he became. A tiny little version of you and him mashed together, running around.

"We'll tell Wayne first." You said matter of factly. You loved your parents, but you were closer to his uncle. He was like a second father to you, and you couldn't imagine anyone else knowing before him.

Eddie smiles and leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

"You scared?" He whispered leaning his forehead against yours.

...a-a little, but we'll be fine." You whispered back. The longer it sinks in that you're pregnant, the panic seems to fade. Eddie wasn't angry with you. He was scared you could tell but that's to be expected.

"Don't be scared, baby. We're doing this together." He reassured before kissing your lips softly again. "M'gonna take care of you both."

It's been three weeks since you took your pregnancy test and had your doctor's visit. They confirmed you were, in fact, expecting. Two months, to be exact. You were greatfull you got pregnant in the winter. Oversized sweaters and hoodies were your best friends. Now, it was time to break the news to everyone.

Eddie and you had already agreed. Wayne was going to be the first to know. You had everything planned out. You had told Eddie to call his uncle and ask if he wanted to go out for dinner. Knowing Wayne, he wasn't going to pass up on an opportunity to spend time with either of you.

You wanted to surprise him with a gift. You know Wayne has a green thumb. He loves to garden. He brags about how he has the best tomatoes in Indiana. So you took Eddie shopping for the perfect gift to give to him as a cute way to tell him you and his nephew are having a baby. You hope he'll catch on and figure out he's going to be a grandpa when he opens his present. It's a little onesie with "Home grown" embroidered on the front with little veggies.

"I like this one." You pointed at the cute little outfit on the hanger.

Eddie chuckled,reading the front. "Wayne's gonna love it. Hell won't be surprised if he tried wearing it." He joked, picking up the tiny shirt off the rack.

You giggled, "I can't wait to tell him."

"Me too, I can't keep my mouth shut for much longer." He mumbled, smirking at some of the funny sayings scribbled on the baby clothes.

The longer you came to terms with the fact that you're pregnant, your stress eased up. Sure, you were still scared, but you had Eddie and your friends. Plus your family. You reassured yourself almost daily that you'd be fine and to enjoy your pregnancy. Every single article of clothing you saw you bought. Didn't matter the color or size. If it was cute, you picked it up.

Eddie was a nervous wreck in the beginning but concealed it well. Mostly because he knew he needed to be there for you. he was also excited, too. He couldn't wait to share his hobbies with his little one. Read them bedtime stories. Sing to them at night before bed. Teach them to play an instrument or two. He looked forward to showing up to the PTA meetings in his battle vest with his sweet "mini me" on his hip.

Eddie knew he was going to be a good dad. He promised you and the baby still in your tummy every night he'd protect the both of you. He couldn't keep his hands off your belly. You weren't far along in your pregnancy, but Eddie was constantly hoping he could feel a little kick.

"We should do the dinner today." Eddie mentioned holding a handful of baby clothes.

"He might wanna to do it tomorrow since he's off."

"I'll call'em when we get home and ask. he can't say no to me." You agreed. It's true Wayne can't say no to you. Which you will take advantage of.

Later on that day after you and Eddie arrived home. You put Wayne's surprise in a little gift bag with a note attached to it.

Picking up the phone, you began dialing his number patiently, waiting for him to pick up. He should be home by now. You thought. "Hey Wayne, it's me, your favorite. I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner with me and Eddie tonight instead of tomorrow? "

Eddie leaned closer over in the wooden chair sat by the dining room table. He scoffs when he heard you get extatic on the other end. Knowing full well, his uncle said yes.

"You will? Okay, we'll pick you up at five o'clock sharp."

"Favorite, huh?" He crossed his arms with a smirk.

"You know it." You playfully mess up his hair as you run to your bedroom to get ready.

"Yeah, well, I've known him longer... I have seniority over him!" Eddie yelled out, teasing you.

He gets up from his chair, making his way to your shared bedroom. He stands there leaning in the doorway. Admiring you getting undressed in front of him. Taking in every curve on your figure.

Eddie moves to wrap his arms around you from behind. Pulling your back tight to his chest. His nose buried in the crook of your neck. You smiled softly, melting into his arms.

"Ya know, I was reading that baby book you bought it said something about sex helping induce labor." He whispered seductively in your ear. His lips trailing light kisses down your neck.

You turned your head."...Eddie, that's not until months from now." You let out a breathy laugh.

"Yeah, but just think about how well prepared you'll be when the time comes - kid is just gonna slide right out." Eddie argued. You know half of him is joking, and the other half is completely serious.

"Get dressed, babe. we leave in thirty minutes." You peel yourself from his tight grasp.

"Offer still stands." He holds up his hands in surrender.

Fifteen minutes went by, and there was a loud knock at your front door. His uncle had driven over so you all could ride together. After much bickering from Wayne, you all packed in Eddie's van.

Wayne refused to let Eddie drive, so it was you and him upfront with your boyfriend sulking in the backseat. Mumbling to himself about how he's not that bad and how everyone else just drives slow.

You noticed Eddie's uncle looking at the small gift bag you made up for him. His eyes kept wandering over to guess who it was for and what was inside.

Once all three of you pulled up in front of the new local diner in Hawkins. You three gathered in and let the hostess walk you over to your table. You and Eddie sat next to each other in a booth, leaving wayne alone across from you. The waitress comes over taking everyone's orders. After she left, you figured it was the perfect time to give it to him.

You look up at Eddie, nudging his side to grab his attention. His uncle just got done scolding him over his breaks needing change.

"So uh, we got you a present," Eddie coughed. He doesn't think he can handle more lectures from the man who practically raised him.

But he straightened up his back, preparing for anything.

"Yep here you go hope you like it." You picked up the bad next to you and placing it front of him.

"For me?" Wayne grabbed it and started taking the tissue paper out. "It ain't ma' birthday yet."

He laughs when he pulls out the tiniest little shirt he's ever seen. "Home grown, that's cute...I don't think it's gonna fit me though darlin-."

He cuts his sentence, short eyes growing wider by the second. You and Eddie look over at each other, smiling from ear to ear.

"Is this what I think it is?." Wayne questioned with tears threatening to spill over his lashes.

"Yep we're having a baby." Eddie moved to wrap an arm over your shoulder and pulling into his side.

"We wanted to tell you first." You choked back a sob.

Wayne still gathering his thoughts. He's holding the small onesie in his hand like he's already holding your newborn baby.

"I-I'm gonna be a grandpa?" Wayne wiped at his eyes. His was starting to become overwhelmed.

Here come the tears from Eddie now. His eyes swelling up and nose turning red. He's never seen Wayne this over come with emotions before. The only time he's ever seen him like that is when his dad started his usual mess. That was always just out of anger and frustrations mostly. This was pure joy and happiness. Wayne has always wanted the best for his nephew.

"We're thinking of naming them, Ozzy." Eddie tried to joke and lighten the mood.

Wayne couldn't say anything but only shake his head at nephew. He cleared his throat, grabbing napkins from the dispenser on the table.

"We are not." You spoke up, wiping your eyes.

Your food finally came, and the waitress gave all three of you a concerned look. A table full of adults bawling their eyes out is a cause of concern. Especially in this town. It was only when she noticed the tiny onesie folded up neatly beside wayne on the table, did her worry look drop. She mumbled a soft aww and set everyone's food down.

"Congratulations to all of you." She said with a warm smile.

The rest of the night went on like normal. Except now instead of Wayne fussing at Eddie for not eating healthy. He was doing that to both of you. Telling you how you need to order seconds because you're eating for two. Informing Eddie how the trailer needs to be baby proofed immediately. The only thing left to do was tell your parents next and his friends. You can only assume which of the two is going to freak out the most.

You leaned over and whispered to Edde, "You wanna tell Dustin next ooooor-?"

He side eyed you. " We're telling your parents next - if it makes you feel better, I'll be on the phone so they can yell at me instead."

"Deal?" Eddie leaned back in the booth, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He was busy focusing on Wayne's ranting and your concerns about telling your parents.

You sighed, dreading that phone call, but knowing it needs to be done. "deal."

[userchai]

𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 - 18+

𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘹 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵…. 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨.

word-count 2.2K

thank you so much for reading feedback is appreciated I love you all dearly! sorry if there are any mistakes! 🖤

“If you love me right then who knows?”

You knew this was a terrible idea, letting him back in, but when he had shown up at your door, shivering and crying you just couldn’t say no. The soft morning glow of the sun illuminates his face beautifully as you stand at your bedroom door.

His eyelashes flutter as he turns a little in his sleep, the long black curls you’ve always loved are wild and messy. “What are you doing to me Eddie?” You whisper, shaking your head and fighting back tears.

He came to you because he didn’t know where else to go, having moved away from Hawkins years ago. It was hours away and you were only fifteen minutes down the road, so Eddie did what he knew best, he came back to you.

This isn’t the first time he’s shown back up since the two of you split years ago, but for some reason in this moment the air feels different. He looks so peaceful in your bed, he looks like he fits, like this is his home too.

You glance at the calendar above your bed, it’s Sunday. You have nowhere to be but right here with the man that you’re still so in love with, it’s painful.

You slowly make your way over to your bed, gently setting yourself down on it, not wanting to wake him yet. The fight the two of you had gotten into last night when he just showed up was still fresh in your mind.

“You can’t just come right back Eddie! You always do this!” You had screamed, tears streaming down your face as you leaned back against your front door.

The night ended differently than you would’ve expected, Eddie had kissed you, and he didn’t stop kissing. You both knew this would only lead to more hurt down the road but neither of you cared.

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you don’t hear Eddie wake up until his hand gently brushes your arm. “Hey.. you okay baby?” He whispers. ‘Baby’ you wanted to tell him that’s not who you were to him anymore, but you couldn’t.

“I’m alright. Did you sleep okay?” You ask, brushing a piece of his hair away from his face. He nods slowly, sitting up. You both stare at each other for a minute, Eddie’s eyes are puffy with sleep and it only makes him look even more attractive.

You smile timidly, damn him for making you feel every single feeling you’ve been working so hard on pushing down for years. “Good, I was gonna make something to eat if you’re hungry?” You ask, going to stand up before Eddie’s grabbing your hand, pulling you back down.

His dark eyes may as well be looking right through you as he keeps you in place. He’s very obvious, you’ve seen that look a million times before, the only thing Eddie is hungry for at the moment is you.

“Ed, I don’t think that’s such a good idea-” you start off, chewing your lip nervously as he pulls you closer to where he’s leaning back against your headboard. “If anything, let me have you for just one more night, I understand if you want me to leave forever after that. I just need to feel you one more time.”

Your heart is pounding beneath your chest, you knew this wouldn’t be the last time, you knew you wanted him. You needed him. Your body reacts before your mind can make up words to say back to him, you straddle yourself over his lap and gently reach down to hold his face. “I’ve never stopped loving you Eddie Munson.” You whisper.

The prettiest smile breaks out over those pouty lips that you could kiss for hours, “Show me then.” He says back, it’s a challenge. You bite back a laugh at how desperately Eddie’s clinging to you right now. His big hands are gripping onto your hips, you hope they bruise you want to remember this forever.

Eddie can be soft sometimes, even if he doesn’t look like it, and this is definitely one of those times. You could break him, and he would let you. You wanted to wreck him and rebuild him after. He groans lowly beneath you as you slowly circle your hips, grinding down against his lap for just a few seconds before stopping.

“Please don’t stop, I need to feel you.” He almost whimpers out, so pathetic, how much he needs you. You lean down slowly and kiss up the side of his neck, biting down against his jaw hard enough that it draws out a little blood. You wanted pain, you wanted him to feel everything that you’ve felt, you wanted him to know that if he fucks up this time he will never see you again.

“Fuck. You little vixen.” He bites out as you run your hands down his shoulders, you keep them going as you shuffle back off of his lap. “Gonna ruin you, is that what you came here for?” You ask as he bites his lip. He nods quickly, watching you pull your sheets back away from his body. “Oh, how cute baby, look how hard you’ve gotten and all I did was sit in your lap for a minute, admit it, you need me.”

You pull the covers all the way off of him, shuffling down to lay on your stomach in front of him as you run your hand teasingly against his length that’s straining behind his tight boxers. “I-fuck, I need you, I love you, I’m sorry for being such an idiot and leaving before please, even if you don’t want me anymore just use me today, that’s all I want.”

You smile up at him, that’s exactly the answer you wanted. If he thinks he can just come back and instantly win you over he is sorely mistaken, he’s going to work for it. You dig your nails into his skin a little as a hiss breaks its way out of his mouth, before you’re pulling his boxers down. You must be going far too slow for his liking because you swear you hear him start begging as his cock finally slaps back against his stomach.

You’ve missed him so bad, and you’ve missed feeling him inside of you almost more than the relationship you once had shared. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick length, the head is leaking pre-cum against his stomach as you tap your fingers lazily against his thighs. “Why should I suck you off baby? I don’t know if you deserve my mouth anymore.” He moans loudly, pushing his hands against his eyes before he’s grabbing the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him.

You laugh quietly, he’s so hard it must be hurting by now. “Fuck…. Please I know I don’t deserve it okay? I don’t, but just, please I’ll be so good I’ll do anything to have you again baby.” You lick your lips slowly, before you’re spitting down onto the head. “Fine, but it’s at my pace, don’t you fucking move.” You can hear the air leave his lungs as you slowly wrap one of your hands tightly against him, stroking him slowly and spreading your saliva all over him.

You know just how he likes it, sloppy and loud, you are determined to make sure he remembers this, if today really is the last time. Focusing back on him you lean down and kiss up the side of his cock before you’re at the very top, you flutter your eyelashes up at him as his stomach tenses. He’s so beautiful, you sink your mouth down around him and the most beautiful sound comes out of his throat. Sure, Eddie is a good singer, but the sounds he makes for you have always been better than music.

It only takes a few more minutes of absolutely setting out to ruin Eddie, before his hips are threatening to lift off the bed. You know he wants to fuck your mouth, but you specifically told him not to move, so you pull off of him and slap his thigh. “I thought I said no moving, don’t you wanna be my good boy?” He looks like he’s on the verge of tears as he frantically apologizes, reaching to grip onto you. You can feel him shaking as you sit back up onto your knees.

“Don’t deserve my mouth anymore, you can’t even listen to instructions baby, but I’ll let you have my pussy. The only thing is, you’re not cumming.” Your stomach is already wound tight at the thought of having him inside you again, you waste no time in pulling your panties off and throwing them down onto the floor. Eddie looks like an absolute wreck already, his hair stuck to his face, eyes blown full of lust and love as he looks up at you. “Please just fuck me.” He whispers.

Reaching behind yourself to grab his cock again you rub the tip against yourself over and over, you can feel it pulsing against your hand. You knew how bad he needed to cum but for now things were going to be about you. You tense up as you slowly slide yourself down onto him, he’s so thick it almost hurts. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He gasps out, his hands gripping the sheets below you as you finally bottom out around him.

You wait a few minutes to adjust before you are lifting yourself back up, the drag of his cock inside of you is addicting and you don’t know if you’ll even last very long. You drop back down again, moaning loudly as every nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire. “Fuck, I’ve missed you baby, please, want you to fill me up when I say you can, need to feel you leaking back out of me for days Eddie.” His hands are all over your body, pulling, gripping, never wanting to let go. The both of you are breathing into each other’s mouths, crying out in pleasure and love.

It’s like nothing had ever happened, you wanted this for life, and you know at this moment he wants it too. He’s barely holding himself together as you bounce on his lap like some sort of angelic nymph. He can’t decide whether he wants to sing filthy praises or spill his heart out about how much he loves you as his cock rubs against that spot in you that sends both of you into a frenzy. “That’s it, fuck Eddie please, oh my god, cum now baby, fill me up, give me all of your love and let me feel it.”

‘Bad idea!’ Your mind was screaming, but your heart and body didn’t care, all the nasty thoughts of how much you hated what he did to you were slowly being stripped away from you. Eddie doesn’t know a lot, but right now he knows he is never letting go of you again. He stops holding back as you tense down around him again, leaning your forehead against his as he runs his hands down your back, gripping onto your ass. The neighbors must be getting a good show with how loud you both are.

You can feel him break beneath you, his body trembling as ‘I love you’ spills out of his lips over and over, your own orgasm washes over you quickly when Eddie bites down on your collar bone, sucking a bruise right into your soft skin. The both of you cling to each other as your highs slowly come down, you feel like you could nap forever with how spent your body is.

Another quiet moan slips past your lips as Eddie lifts you off of him slowly, you can feel his cum leaking out of you and down onto your thighs. “What a beautiful mess you are.” He whispers, leaning over to kiss you on your forehead as tears well up in your eyes. “Eddie?” You ask quietly, your throat hurts from how loud you’d been only moments ago. He doesn’t reply right away, instead he reaches for his Metallica shirt that’s on the floor, slowly pulling it down over your head and helping you put your arms through.

It smells like heaven, it smells like everything you’ve missed. “Yes baby?” He asks. “Please, don’t hurt me again. Don’t let me go.” You feel a tear slip down your cheek before it’s quickly being wiped away by his calloused fingers. “You’re never leaving my sight again, I was such an idiot when we were younger, but I want you, I want us forever.” He leans his forehead against yours as you both sit there in silence, maybe you could work again. Who knows?

The rest of the morning is softer, after you both had a moment to catch your breath Eddie had helped you into a bath, getting in behind you to rub your sore muscles as you laughed quietly while sharing things you’d missed out on since you’d last seen each other. This was easy, it was familiar, it was love. You couldn’t fight back smiling as you watched him standing at your oven, flipping a pancake over in a frying pan and almost dropping it onto the floor.

You knew opening the door for him was potentially opening your heart up to be broken again, but for Eddie you would risk everything, even your heart.

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@loserboysandlithium @gri959 @eddies-esposa @undeadmfs @perfectlymellowthing @multi-culti-girl @iamnotoverlyfondofwhatfollo-blog @catherinnn @ainelantv @quinnyficsy @ali-r3n @edsbug @hippiegoth97 @thepurplelovewitch @munson-mjstan @ironictechtonicplatonic @xplrnowornever @hellfiremunsonn @mmunson86 @cremeve @ohburrryoureabsolutelyridiculous @munsongirly @jamdoughnutmagician @raratasome @alivinggirl @honey-flustered @ho-for-joequinn-fics @eddiemunsonfuxks @melodymunson @usersallyskellington @dickchomper @cryingglightningg @xsinfullxlover666 @myspacebrat @taintandviolent @eddiesghxst @josephquinnsfreckles @vecslut @tlclick73 @woahlifehitsyahuh @rose1518 @sassidykassidy

[ryan-waddell11]

spot the difference game: level impossible

[bookshelf-dust]

baby love, my baby love

gif by @corrodedcherry

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 1,880

warnings: swearing, reader had a not so good day, some hair washing, reader is nude in a non-sexual way, casual intimacy, lots of lovey-dovey things

a/n: hello! i am still very tentatively getting back into writing, but i wanted to write something sweet and comforting and soft and all those things. and eddie is the best provider of all that. this is so cute i almost made myself nauseous. lemme know what you think!! happy reading!!! <333 lots of love

————

“Where’s my girl at?”

Eddie’s voice rings throughout your small apartment, echoing slightly due to it not being fully furnished. His tone is almost giddy, words taking on a little twang after having spent the day working with Wayne. 

You bury your face deeper into your pillow, fighting a smile at the way he speaks to you. From your place on the bed, you hear his keys smack the wall as he hangs them up, hear his boots thudding across the kitchen tiles as he makes his way to you. 

When Eddie appears in the doorway to your shared bedroom, his arms are raised, fingers working to quickly tie his hair up in a knot. His biceps flex with the movement, drawing your eye to his pale skin. A brilliant smile spreads across his face upon seeing you. 

“Hey, bug,” he says.

You flush. You never thought you’d allow someone to call you love bug, let alone any variation of it. You certainly didn’t think you’d like it. It’s who’s saying it that’s converted you.

You’re laying on your stomach, hands crushed under your cheek. You try to smile back at him, but it comes out much less enthusiastic than normal. It’s a very tired gesture. 

Eddie notices, kicking off his shoes and crouching before you. “What’s the matter sweet girl? You’re wearing your outside clothes still, and you look pretty pitiful.”

At least he’s honest.

You blink and let your eyes flutter shut. “Long day. Headache. Upset.”

He brings his hand to your face, brushing his fingers over your temples. “Oh, I’m sorry, bug. I know you just wanna feel all better. Is that it?”

You nod, eyes still closed. He starts to laugh playfully just because of how pitiful you really do look, at how small and scrunched up you’ve made yourself. When he kisses your cheek, you feel his smile against your skin. It makes you beam, despite how you feel. The tingle Eddie’s lips leave behind makes it seem like the first time no matter how long it's been. You’re all soft for him, and there’s no denying it. But hell, he’s the same way. 

“How about…” he trails off, rubbing the tips of his fingers up and down your spine, tickling your lower back where your sweater has ridden up. “How about I take care of you? Run you a bath, for starters? I know you like that.”

Your eyes open, happy to think about how nice it would feel to sink your tired body into a hot basin full of bubbles. “Okay, Teddy.”

“Yeah? C’mere then,” Eddie says gently, holding his hands out to encourage you to sit up. You slowly push yourself away from the mattress, and he easily pulls you to stand. “I’ll get the water warmed up for you.” 

You give him a poor little salute, making him laugh, and then stick your fingers through his belt loop so you don’t have to do as much on the short walk to the bathroom. When you get there, Eddie bends to cut the water on and push the drain plug down. You wrap your arms around his waist and fold yourself against his warm back. You close your eyes once again, hearing him squirt a hefty amount of bubble bath into the tub. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t flood the bathroom.

The plastic top clicks shut and Eddie rises, grabbing hold of your hands and spinning around in your grip. 

“Don’t like seein’ you all drained, baby,” he says. Eddie’s hands cradle your face, long and pale fingers beginning to rub at your temples. It feels so nice to have that pressure be pushed away, to feel his body so close to yours. At this rate, you’ll forget you even had a headache. 

“Wanna tell me about it?” Eddie asks. “Or do you just want to have a chill night?”

You open your eyes and push up on your toes to kiss his nose. “The latter,” you say. 

He chuckles, knowing you never used that term until you started reading Jane Austen. 

“M’kay, bug. That works for me.” His eyes twinkle mischievously. “You want a kiss? I think you deserve a good one.”

That gets you to practically melt. I fucking love this woman, Eddie thinks. He feels breathless each time you look at him that way. You look at him like he hung the stars, like he is your knight in shining armor. He kisses you in that way that thanks you for making him feel so loved. So cherished.

You thread your hands in Eddie’s hair, fingers pulling at the chunk at the nape of his neck where it’s most sensitive. His mouth is warm against yours. He smiles at your playfulness, breaking away to kiss both cheeks. 

He bends and drags a finger through the water. “It’ll be plenty warm enough in a second, bug.”

You give him a tired thank you squeeze as he presses a kiss to your jaw. 

“Need help undressing?” he inquires, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. 

You gently backhand his stomach, watching as he feigns severe injury. “Perv,” you joke. 

Eddie sits down on the toilet seat lid so that he can be prepared to turn the water off when he deems the tub full enough for you. Really he’d just like to see you surrounded by a huge pile of bubbles for his own amusement, but also because he knows it’ll be the thing to coax that pure, joyous laugh out of you. The sound he’d bottle and keep on his nightstand if he could.

You remove the little bit of makeup you’d been wearing with a cotton pad, sighing in relief to have it all off. You take out your earrings and slip off your rings, setting them in an ashtray on the counter you’ve been repurposing ever since Eddie decided to cut back on his smoking.

You take off each of your socks, one hand gripping the countertop for balance. As you slip your belt off, Eddie finishes preparing your bath and turns to face you. He holds his arms out, ready to collect your dirty clothes and accessories so that he can put them in their rightful places. 

He takes your belt from you only to be cheeky, snapping the thick leather as loud as he can manage. He makes himself laugh. 

You turn to the side when you unbutton your jeans, flushing and shy at his attention even after all this time. Even knowing how beautiful he finds your body. How much he loves how soft you are. After all, your body allows you to live. It allows you to spend time with him, and that is all he’ll ever ask for. It doesn’t matter to him what state your body is in because it is yours. And you are his. 

Eddie smiles watching you shimmy out of your snug jeans. You hand him your pants and t-shirt, now only in your bra and underwear. You don’t give yourself the time to be self-conscious, longing for the hot bath water. You turn and quickly unclasp your bra. Eddie playfully flicks your bum. It always deserves appreciation in his eyes. 

When you hand him the last of your items, he presses the sweetest kiss to your tummy, thumbs rubbing at the indentations left on your chest from your bras underwire, as if he can make them go away just by sheer will. 

“I love you, bug,” Eddie says, looking up at you with those watery doe eyes. His kisses your stomach again.

“I love you same, Teddy. Now let me take my bath. It’s rather chilly in this house, don’t you think? I refuse to freeze.”

Eddie laughs to himself as he walks off, taking your clothes to the hamper and storing your bra and belt elsewhere. He never could’ve imagined a world where preparing a bath for his partner would make him as happy as it does. 

————

Eddie is kneeling on the bathroom floor. Your back is pressed against the side of the tub, and he’s washing your hair. Well, really he’s already given it the scrub and cleanse that it needed, now he’s just trying to make weird shapes out of it. 

After you’d sat in the warm water until your toes pruned without actually bathing, he jokingly offered to do your hair while you washed your body. 

You hadn’t even thought about it. You were enjoying the way the bubbles came up to your chin, the way you were completely encapsulated in the safety of them. The way Eddie sat there on the rug, telling you about his day. About the different things he’d fixed on which cars—nothing you understood in any fashion, but something you always wanted to hear about.

“You could make good money doing this, you know. You’re very talented,” you quip, scrubbing your calf with a washcloth. 

Eddie snorts, kissing your wet shoulder blade. “What? Give head massages?”

You ring out your rag, having completed your washing ritual and made sure everything got the attention it deserves. 

“Mhm. That felt so good.” 

You pull the drain plug up, letting the water out. Eddie stands and acts as though his back is going to give out on him. You quickly turn the shower on, just so you can make sure you got all the conditioner out of your hair and feel completely clean. Eddie has never done this rinsing routine after a bath, but loves to see you do your little happy dance when you’re all clean and wrapped up in a towel.

He holds out a hand as you step over the rim of the tub, bowing for added effect. “How was your bath, m’lady?”

You lead the way out of the bathroom, on a search for pajamas. “I’d say it was the best bath I’ve ever had the pleasure of taking, good sir.”

You hug your fuzzy towel to your chest, pushing up on your tiptoes to kiss Eddie’s full lips. He blushes at the eye contact you’re giving him. He knows how it makes you nervous, but getting to have all of your attention like that makes him tingly.

“Thank you for helping me, Teddy.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” 

You turn to the side, gripping a round, wooden handle and pulling open your top dresser drawer. Eddie kisses your cheek. Sometimes you think Eddie’s kisses are lifesaving. They’ve surely contributed to your stability. They’re healing. And so is the way he cares for the people he loves. The way he so effortlessly does things just because he only wants to see you happy.

Eddie ends up picking out your pajamas while you pick out his. You’re in your own bottoms, but one of his Iron Maiden t-shirts. You told him you should match, so he pointed you in the direction of another, and you made sure to choose pants for him that had red in them, just like yours. 

Before you can sit down on your shared bed, Eddie takes your hand and leans down to whisper in your ear. His chin brushes your jaw, lips parting in a bright grin before the words ever leave his mouth. 

“Now, what do you think about going to get milkshakes?”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[bettysupremacy]

eddie you say? 👀 if we’re talking eddie again can i request relationshipy fluff? Like sleepovers or something??

okay so verdict is .. we all missed eddie?

When Wayne Munson slid you a key to his house over coffee, he didn’t expect to have you sneaking in at two am.

You’d snuck in quietly, crept into Eddie’s room, toed your shoes off, and peeled the puffer you wore—over your pajamas—off your chilled body. His room smelt like lingering weed and cologne as you’d entered, but as you crawl into his bed the smell subsided.

“Eddie,” you whisper into his neck, preening for the reciprocation of his touch. “Eddie.”

He moves, shuffling in his sleep. He’s pretty like this, though you’re afraid he’s always pretty. Cheek pink from where it dug into his arm, hair mussed from sleep. He’s shirtless and warm, heat emanating from his smooth skin. Eddie’s always been like this; a heater. In the summer he can’t stand the way you move away from him in your sleep, desperate for some air.

“Baby,” you whisper a little louder, like a child commanding the attention of their mother. Any other night this may embarrass you, but you’re too desperate for his affection right now.

Slowly, he rouses. He doesn’t notice you at first, too occupied with the floating feeling of the in between sleep realm, or maybe too used to the feeling of you next to him to notice discrepancy. When he does though, you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt at his initial fear. Flinching, he moves to shuffle away before the streetlight casting in from his bedroom window catches on your face.

“Hi, I’m sorry.”

“Y/n?” He murmurs, voice thick with sleep. “Baby..” he rubs his eyes forcefully and you can’t tell if it’s apart of his usual dramatics or his sleepy stupor. “What are you doing here?”

You frown moving closer quietly, nestling yourself into him. He peers at you with the curiosity of a scientist and his creation. You’d’ve never done this in the beginning. Too scared to ask Mr. Munson Wayne for a glass of water. “Missed you.”

“So, we’re just breaking and entering now?” His hand comes up to cradle your head gently. He’s not serious, anything but it. His girlfriend appearing in his bed is a gift horse he’d never be stupid enough to look in the mouth. Leaning down, he nuzzles his nose in your hair, pressing a long kiss to the skin he finds. “You have work tomorrow, my love.”

“It’s not breaking and entering, I have your house key.”

You manage the sentence like it takes the most out of you; like you want the preserve the feeling of sleep holding you down; to stave away any alertness you can find.

“You have work tomorrow.” He repeats, sleepy concern lacing his voice.

“Steve can open without me.”

Eddie grumbles. It’s true. Slowly, he lowers himself back down to lay beside you, letting you climb your way on top. Your arms snake around him, desperate for any skin you can find. You want to feel him, to be as close to him as possible. You’ve missed him so much over vacation, lying with him right now doesn’t feel real. It’s carnal the way you squeeze his back, though there’s nothing lustful in the touch. He groans, letting himself wrap around you as well.

“You missed me?”

You’re too lost in his heartbeat to register his voice, too sleepy to respond. “Mhm.”

His nails drag up and down your back slowly. “Missed you too.”

You shiver, kissing his chest in response. There’s no need for words when the both of you feel like this; tired and in love. He pulls the old duvet higher up over the both of you to cover your back completely.

And that’s how Wayne finds you the next morning. Tangled in each other like sticky spaghetti.

“Hey, boy, have you seen..”

He pauses, hand on the cold doorknob. It’s certainly a sight Wayne thinks. Eyeing the shoes and backpack of work clothes on the floor, his eyes flit back up to the tangle of lovers. You lay practically all the way on top of Eddie, long sleeves and pants you’d picked out to protect you from the chill drowning you. Under the fabric that is your pajamas, Eddie snores softly, arm still around your middle. This is the type of parenting Wayne never thought he’d have to do with Eddie. He shakes his head, weary smile playing on his lips as he leaves the room to find his boots himself.

He’d given you the key for a reason.

[innocent-artery]

Trial and Error

1.6k words

Summary: Your new boyfriend Eddie finds out that you've been faking orgasms. He makes it his mission to make sure you don't have to.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. This story includes sexually explicit material, reader discretion advised.

While reading, I recommend listening to the altar is my hips, a spotify playlist by me!

Part One - Part Two

~

One hour.

It had been the most blissful hour of your life, but it increasingly became more frustrating as it went on.

Eddie hovered over you, pile driving his cock into you with force that had prompted him to place an extra pillow behind your head when it had knocked against the headboard a while earlier. One of his arms propped him up onto his elbow, the other toying with one of your nipples. His pubic bone was brushing your clit with each push of his hips, and his mouth was latched onto your other nipple dutifully.

So why couldn't you orgasm?

In theory, Eddie was doing everything right. It wasn't like you were uncomfortable with him, and you did feel good, it just wasn't building like it was supposed to, you couldn't get that push to tip over the edge. You'd managed to get yourself there on your own, but Eddie, skillful as he was, wasn't you. He couldn't feel exactly what you felt, he relied on reaction. You'd tried giving him directions, from which he learned well, but when they fell just short of getting you to orgasm, you stopped trying to adjust, not wanting to feel nit-picky or difficult.

And so eventually you'd fallen into a habit of pretending to orgasm. It was easy at first, when you were still testing the waters. When he'd fingered you and you couldn't orgasm, you faked it, brushing it off thinking that you just needed his mouth. A few weeks later, when he added his mouth, you brushed it off again, resigning to believe that only his dick would do the job.

And here you were, with his dick inside you for the first time, and you were back where you'd found yourself all those times before. Still hitting that brick wall you couldn’t get over.

You knew deep down that you should just tell Eddie. He'd made it abundantly clear that he wanted to make you feel good. But after time you'd simply given up on it. You still felt good, you thought, and that was good enough.

The thought seemed overwhelmingly clear now, and for some reason that escaped you, it pricked at your waterline.

Glancing over at the clock, you entertained the act again. You took a fistful of his hair, arched your back with a loud, gasping "Fuck, Eddie" and deliberately clenched your pussy around him. You felt his hips stutter, then still as he pulled out. You watched as he fisted his cock a few times, spilling his cum over your stomach. The muscles tensed with the foreign sensation.

You opened your eyes, watching Eddie hovering over you, panting, and you felt your pussy throb. That was only more frustrating.

A moment of silence fell over the two of you, the hot smell of sex thick in the air. You assume Eddie believes you came, until you note the slightly perplexed expression on his face, staring at your collarbone as he was lost in thought, rolling something around in his head. He seems to have concluded the thought with a sigh out his nose, leaning up to kiss you sweetly.

"Feeling good?" He muttered, grinning into your mouth.

"Mhm," you sighed between kisses. "Hardest I've ever come." This was, in fact, total bullshit.

At that, Eddie stopped, pulled away to see your face. "Really?"

You nodded. He shrugged. "That's strange, because I didn't feel it at all."

You froze.

He popped his lips, giving you a sympathetic smile. "I wasn't sure at first, thinking you just didn't have much of a physical reaction when you came. Was still unsure just asking now, but your reaction gives it away."

The wind seemed to be knocked out of you, opting to watch your hand play with his hair than look him in the eye.

"I'm not mad, sweetness, I just don't understand. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know." Your voice was small. "I think...I think I just didn't want to be a bother. I tried telling you stuff to make it better but it still wasn't working- not that you're doing anything wrong!" you added quickly when he blinked at you. "So I just stopped."

"Honey, you know I'm glad to go to whatever lengths are needed to make you orgasm, and if you don't I'm not doing my job." He was earnest in his words, and it made your heart both swell with love and sink with guilt.

"I know. I just feel bad when you've been eating me out for half an hour and I'm no closer to an orgasm than I was twenty minutes ago."

Eddie sighed, pecking your cheek and sitting up on his calves. "I'm not sure you're hearing me, bubs. I genuinely do not care, in the nicest way possible. You need hours? I've got all the time in the world. You need a specific technique? Show me what to do. I don't care if getting you to orgasm takes a little more work, I'd rather take the time to learn than have you pretend for my sake."

Tears pricked at your eyes again, but this time with love. You sat up and pulled his face towards yours, kissing him with as much adoration and gratitude as you could muster.

"Sweetness?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you been able to make yourself cum?"

You mumbled an 'mhm', in between kisses.

"I have an idea." He pulled away, eyes now sparked with determination. "I want you to get in whatever position you normally do when you touch yourself."

When he pulled back, you were still for a moment. It took his raising of an eyebrow and gentle gesture to snap you out of it, shifting your weight and the pillows until you lay comfortably on your back.

"Good." Eddie adjusted himself so that he was propped up on his elbows, face level with your pussy. "Now, show me how it's done."

Your jaw nearly fell open. "Eddie..."

Eddie tilted his head, searching for signs of hesitancy on your face. After a moment of stunned silence you began to move, both hands reaching for your tits. Groping, massaging, pinching, caressing. Slowly, so slowly, pulling soft hitches of breath followed by sighs each time. You felt your eyelids flutter closed, partly from the sensation you were losing yourself in, partly from slight embarrassment.

Your left hand traveled up to your neck, soft caresses over your jaw and pulse point before finding the pressure points that had your brain turning fuzzy and a low, breathy noise rumbling in your throat. The right hand found the flesh of your thigh, groping it softly before alternating with your ass.

Eddie chuckled softly. "Didn't know you grabbed your own ass, pretty."

You felt your cheeks warm. "I usually just imagine you doing whatever I'm doing, so..."

"Do you?" Even with your eyes closed you could see the ego-inflated grin pulling his lips back. "Good, that's good. Show me what you picture me doing."

You continued like that for a moment, just feeling around your body. Your middle finger traced the junction between your thigh and your cunt, making your body tense with excitement.

When your eyes had had the courage to open again, they met a lovely sight. Eddie was crouched dutifully down in front of you, hungry and lust-blown eyes noting every slight movement of your hand, gaze flicking from one had to the other, to your face, to your pussy on display in front of him.

Nearly shaking in anticipation, you reached down gingerly to graze a fingertip against the spot right above your clit, which had your hips following your hand when it left.

A soft breath was pulled from you at the action, but it turned into a choked gasp when your finger finally pressed down towards where slick had gathered. You opted to sift it around, collecting it on your fingertips before sliding them up to your clit, a firm, slow swipe making you let out a weak sound.

Once you found a rhythm, you opened your eyes. Eddie was staring intently at your motions, trying to burn every little motion into his brain, wanting to memorize the exact shape you drew into your body. His eyes flicked up to your face every so often, but when they caught on that you were staring, they lingered. He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to the insides of your thighs, hands caressing the backs of your thighs, a motion intended to be soothing but instead sent shivers into your skin in its wake.

"Eddie..." you sighed, motions increasing in intensity. Through your growing desperation you managed to stay slow, keeping yourself on edge.

The boy in question groaned into your skin. The idea that he'd asked you to show him exactly what you did when you were alone and that this was what you thought to do. Say his name. That was what came naturally, that was what fueled your desire. Him.

It didn't go unnoticed that your soft moans were getting louder, airier, higher pitched. Eddie reached his hands under you to grip your ass, caressing and squeezing the flesh.

"Good, good." Eddie murmured.

"Fuck, say that again," you gasped.

"What? That you're doing so good? So good for me, yeah? Look fuckin' perfect, 'n I can smell you from here. Christ baby, sound like a damn song, sound so pretty."

Your fervent motions plus Eddie's soft touches and sex-incarnate voice all tipped you over that sticky sweet edge. This orgasm didn't barrel into you, rather, it washed over you, warmth coursing over you from your core outwards. It felt like euphoria.

When you came down and opened your eyes, Eddie was staring at you with a stupid but awestruck look.

"Well, there's no going back, 'cause I can definitely tell the difference now."

~

@lovinvane

Part One - Part Two

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[ghost-proofbaby]

september love (e.m.)

eddie finds you awake on the first night he's home from the hospital, and wonders what you're thinking.

pairing: eddie munson x reader

warnings: mentions of canon ending of season 4, except eddie didn't die. mentions of hospital and medical procedures (in passing). sort of sad, sort of not. a little bit of angst? hurt/comfort. religious imagery (specific mentions of heaven).

wc: 1.7k+

an: this was just some sort of weird rambling upon seeing the poem mentioned above at like 11 pm? 1 am? who knows. time is a construct. also, reader is compared to a 'violent' dog/animal during eddie's recovery, and if you like this metaphor/vibe, then i strongly suggest and urge you to go read @myosotisa's fic Half Life. she does it far more beautifully than i ever could, and it is one of my favorite fics. ever.

Your head is on his chest. 

Your temple and your ear are flush with the soft cotton of his wrinkled t-shirt, the one he insisted upon sleeping on his first night home, and it’s all you can think about. The smell of week old laundry, the stubborn linger of a cologne gifted too long ago to remember the worn name of. A steady heartbeat that still pumps along a little too slow for your liking. The rise and fall of each promised breath that you force your lungs to pace themselves with. Just enough heat radiating off of him to keep you warm, here in bed, here in the dim light of twilight as he rests.

No tubes and no IVs to worry about. No nurses barging in every ten minutes. No beeping of a dozen machines to be your symphony tonight. 

No, you don’t need a machine now to keep track of his heart rate. You’ve learned to do that entirely on your own; your heart has learned how to match his with each dulled thump against the skin you cling to through this dingy old t-shirt.

It can’t be long after 3 AM, the moonlight almost as bright as a rising sun as it peeks itself in through the curtains of the window, as if whispering to check if you might still be awake.

And you are. And all you can think about, is your head on his chest. 

It’s been over a month since you’ve had this type of moment with Eddie. A moment where you’re truly, sincerely, utterly alone with him. Privacy had become a delicacy that you weren’t aware of the fragility of. You hadn’t understood its importance until you had to bask in its absence, always on edge for the next body to walk into the room and take the air out of your lungs. Always anxious for the next sound of news, always worried for the next shoe to drop. 

You’d forgotten what it had felt like for Eddie to twitch his fingers along your spine in his sleep, and for you to be the only witness to his quiet worship, even unconscious. 

Your lips part, and you almost consider whispering hard truths into the trembling night air. There’s a million and one dying words cementing your tongue to the roof of your mouth, and you know that every single one you could even manage to utter would only make you sound like a broken record. 

I’m sorry this happened to you.

I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.

I’m sorry I couldn’t prevent it. 

All things already said to him when he had been drifting in and out of consciousness in that hospital bed. All apologies already buried between muted sobs as you’d clutched his knuckles a little tighter than you should have, a little too selfish in the moment to wonder if it might be hurting him. The only thing on your mind had been keeping him, holding him, feeling him. He was alive – he was alive. And for the first seven nights of his endless rest, all you could wonder is for just how much longer that desperate prayer could ring true.

Would he leave you again? Would he lose the fight? 

You can’t recall without bias which one of you had been the true wounded animal in that little room, scented with burning bleach and cacophonies of nearby patients just beyond the curtains. 

Eddie, looking up at the police who had finally come once he woke, eyes big and teary as he’d tried to wrap his head around his new reality.

You, baring teeth and claws at them in the end, ready to bite hard at anyone who got too close.

It wasn’t just the police. It was everyone. 

It was the same juxtaposition between the two of you at those nurses who would interrupt the nights, always frowning so dutifully at the sight of your carefully curled figure at Eddie’s side. When friends and family came to visit, and they all had the same look of disbelief. As if they were about to tell you that you had imagined it all; he hadn’t survived, he hadn’t come back to you, you were imagining it. You’d been all bark and awaiting bite towards Steve Harrington and the newly revived Jim Hopper, all the same. Their figures bore no difference to you when it came to protecting what was so holy to you. Him, Eddie, here and alive. Eddie, who slept enough for the both of you those nights. The pain in your back from all the uncomfortable hours spent in that little chair at his bedside was insignificant, all the headaches you’d endured from the smell of iodine that still clung to the air after every surgery were pitiful attempts at the Universe removing you from him. 

If you could, you might try to recall your reaction when Dustin Henderson had babbled on through tears as to what had happened to Eddie when the two were left alone. His final act of heroism, or so he thought. 

But you can’t. Right here, right now, you aren’t capable of living in the past. You’ve been haunted enough these last few weeks, and all your numb mind can handle is counting the beats of his heart. Like the rhythm of a song – 1, 2, 3, 4. 1, 2, 3, 4. Staccato verses that you sometimes whisper in time, getting worried when they don’t follow the infallible metronome you’ve set for him. 

“You’re still awake.”

The murmur of his voice is a drink of cold water, startling in the dark greys and blues wrapping the two of you up. 

You lift your head ever so slightly against your better judgment, “Go back to sleep, love.” 

“Touche.” 

You can see his grin even through the shadows. It’s weak, not yet quite as vibrant as it once had been, but it’s there. He’s still alive. He’s still grinning. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” The pads of his fingertips are more intentional against your spine now, longer strokes and mindless shapes, “I’ve got a penny in my pocket if you tell me.”

His words are only slightly slurred. Probably residual of the pain medication they’d prescribed him.

“I wasn’t thinking about anything,” you say, and you mean it.

You hadn’t been thinking. You had just been listening to his heart and his breaths, feeling the weight of him beneath you. 

Little things you had taken for granted once upon a time. Never again, your soul aches as you let your head drop back to his chest carefully. Never again.

“You’re just laying awake, not thinking about anything, at…” he trails off, turning his cheek and squinting in the direction of the alarm clock across the room. The glow is dim, and you know you’ll have to change the batteries soon, “Four in the morning?”

4 AM. Last you had checked, it had been 3 AM. You hadn’t even noticed an hour had passed. 

“Is that really so hard to believe?” you smile up at him, and it’s just as sincere as your words had been. When his honey brown eyes meet yours, warmth drizzles down your entire being. Across your brain, down your spine, wrapping around your limbs. You could spend an eternity here, simmering in his warmth, content to your heart’s fullest capability. 

You’d almost lost him. You’d almost lost this warmth. 

You take a second to memorize his features. Studying him as if you didn’t already know every curvature, every freckle, every winkle better than you knew your own soul. You’re looking at him as if you may never look at him again, and he can tell. 

He doesn’t have to say that he gets it. His hand simply wanders up to cup your face, basking in you as you were him. Two souls, intertwining over overlapping legs and synchronized heartbeats, and he doesn’t have to say a word. 

The moment his fingers card into your baby hairs, you’re turning your mouth quickly to that warm palm. One, two, three kisses. Quick pecks, rapid succession. A secret language that you know he, and only ever he, can begin to understand. 

I love you.

I love you.

I love you. 

It drowns out all sorrow, all guilt, all hauntings. Your cracked lips, and the feeling of those lines across his palms. If there is a Heaven, it’s not somewhere in a pearly gated kingdom above. There are no hark angels and there is no bearded man awaiting. 

It’s here. It’s now. It’s 4 AM, in bed with your lover, getting to experience moments you’d come so close to losing for eternity. 

Do the poets know? They must. All the love, all the adoration, in both your bodies is too abundant for them to not feel it. To not write about it. 

“Go back to bed, love,” you repeat almost a perfect imitation of your first command when he had awakened, and this time, his eyelids flutter with your words, “I’m not gonna disappear between now and sunrise. I promise.” 

“No,” he quickly whispers back as his eyes fully shut, and your palms smooth out the wrinkles of the shirt to feel the ridges of scars hidden for now. Scars he’s ashamed of, for now. Scars you’d one day show all the love in the world to, sacred proof that he came back to you, only once he was ready. One day. “But you’re looking at me like I might.”

His words are heavy in the shades of violet now sinking into the room. But the moon is high in her sky, and the crickets are chirping to the East, and he’s right.

You’re terrified the daylight will steal him from you. You’re terrified the new day might tear away all that you’ve sunk your teeth into. 

“I’m not going to,” he mumbles around a yawn, arms slowly encasing you, pulling you in closer, “I’m not going anywhere. Yeah?” 

He’s back with that warmth, coaxing you right back into heavenly notions with him. You let him; he baits you, and you follow. 

“Yeah.”

It’s a sigh. Of hopefulness, of relief, of belief. 

This time, the I love you is more than a prayer repeated in your mind. And he somehow manages to say it back, just as he begins to slip back under. Still holding you and hands still twitching where they rest against your back. 

Let daylight come. You aren’t capable of worrying about it, or stressing about all that has happened. You aren’t capable of thinking about anything right now, because only one thing matters as your temple and ear find his heartbeat once more. 

Your head is on his chest.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @mediocredreams @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin

@ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87

@thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea@kellsck

@cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking

@witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore

@mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog

@vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria@loveryanax@stylexrepp

@princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

@writinginthetwilight @trixyvixx @kittydeadbones @munson-addict @bluejeangenies

@cryingglightningg @joannamuns9n @missmarch-99 @rhirojo@findmeincorneliastreet

[eddiemunsonistheloml]

Eddie Munson ranking his nicknames (that you gave him)

Based on the tiktok filter where you rank different nicknames

Part 2 here but can be read in any order

Paring(s): Eddie Munson x reader

Words: 346

Warnings: Reader is intended to be younger than Eddie but age is not mentioned (it is in part 2 though), not proofread, (lmk if I need to add any other warnings)

Check out my kinktober&Flufftober here

1. Eds

You usually call him Eds and he just loves hearing it coming from you. Doesn’t like when anyone else calls him in cuz it’s reserved for you and you only (they call him Ed instead).

2. Pretty boy

Honestly he just loves any kind of praise from you. Slut for praise. Blushed like a stupid teenage boy when you called him pretty boy for the first time. He also gets so cocky knowing that you think he’s pretty. Calls you pretty girl in return.

3. Handsome

Again he just loves praise and knowing you think he’s handsome. He does insist that “handsome” and “pretty” are two very different things though.

4. Rockstar

He’s your favourite rockstar obviously. And you’re his biggest supporter with his music (and everything).

5. Babe

He thinks it’s very simple and classic but he still loves it. He likes more creative names though.

6. Eddie

Just his name so he doesn’t hate it but he doesn’t absolutely love when you just call him by his name. Sometimes you call him Eddie when you’re mad at him or scolding him for something stupid.

7. Munson

You used to call him by his last name all the time before you started dating. He thinks it’s funny that you still call him Munson even though you’re dating now.

8. Freak

Before you knew him you just assumed that he was a freak because that’s all anybody ever said about him. You only called him it a few times when you first met before you quickly realized that he wasn’t a freak. Now you only ever call him a freak in a teasing way and after he fucks you.

9. Dungeon Master

You only use it to tease him especially when he’s being a nerd. He knows that you’re not being mean and are just playfully making fun of him like always.

10. Edward Munson

He doesn’t like when anyone calls him by his actual name. You only call him by his full name when you’re mad at him so he doesn’t love it.

[abellmunsonmovie]

Can we talk about Eddie’s hands real quick? Cause like okay, he plays guitar, he’s good with cars, he most definitely knows how to roll a joint, he wears cool rings. Alsoooo the clip where he’s in the cafeteria flipping the bird, YOU CAN SEE VEINS?!?! WHEN I TELL YOU I LOST IT I MEAN I LOST IT. Sooo anywho…I live for Eddie and his hands

[littlexdeaths]

eddie munson x plus size reader

warnings: angst, allusions to smut, major body insecurities, troubles orgasming due to said insecurities, eddie is so incredibly sweet, oral (fem receiving)

a/n: this started out as just a little angsty thing cause i was in my feelings, but it quickly spiraled into something more. while i feel a little nervous sharing it because it directly mirrors my own experience with intimacy issues and self esteem, i hope it can maybe help someone who has felt this same way <3

“— just stop, eds. it’s clearly not gonna happen.”

he can hear the disappointment in your voice as you tug his hand out of your panties. willing away the tears that threaten to spill past your lash line.

you swear something’s wrong with you.

he’s been at this for well over an hour, having to take multiple breaks from when his fingers started to cramp up. your clit feels almost raw, yet numb to the touch. the constant circles he was rubbing against it left you with nothing but discomfort.

“sweetheart—” he whispers, brushing your hair back from your face.

but you quickly bury your face into the pillow, the sheer humiliation makes you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. you already know what he’s going to say, he’s said it more times than you can count.

“save it, please. i don’t want your pity,” your words are slightly muffled, but he hears them loud and clear.

so he stays silent, keeping his chest pressed into your back. he rubs soothing circles over the curve of your hip while you soak his pillow with your tears. each silent shake of your shoulders twists the knife deeper into his gut.

why he hasn’t left is beyond you— anyone else would have.

not only is he stuck with a girlfriend who can’t take her clothes off in front of him, he’s stuck with one who can’t finish either. you can’t imagine how frustrating that must be.

“why are you even still here?” you sniffle, feeling his body stiffen behind you. “this can’t be fun for you.”

he doesn’t answer you, instead moving from his position behind you to roll you onto your back before he slots himself between your thick thighs. and even in the dark of his room you can see how your words have upset him.

“— i’m here because i love you.” he asserts, calloused fingers catching your chin to keep your gaze level with his. “i stay despite how much you continually try to push me away, because you’re everything to me.”

and he catches some more tears that trickle down your cheeks with his thumb. he unintentionally swipes them over your lips and they taste almost bitter on your tongue when you take a shuddering breath in.

“i just.. i feel like this is too good to be true— that you’re too good to be true.” you voice is barely above a whisper now, “that once you see everything… you’ll change your mind.”

his eyes slip shut and an almost painful look crosses over his features.

“baby,” he sighs, carefully taking your hand to guide it up his bare torso. you can feel the uneven flesh beneath your fingertips, a reminder that you almost lost him not so long ago. “you could grow a third head and sprout a tail and i would love you just the same.”

that image has you giggling softly, the sound causing his eyes to flutter back open. eddie grins down at you, bringing your hand up to press a gentle kiss to the back of it.

“there’s my girl,” he hums.

and despite the worry that still lingers in the back of your head, your body automatically reacts to his gentle words. you shift your hips beneath his own, now acutely aware of how uncomfortable the damp cotton feels against your skin.

eddie can see that spark of need return to your eyes, his head tilting down to nudge your nose with his own. he inhales your soft gasp when he carefully presses his hips down into yours.

“can i try something? if you don’t like it, i promise we can stop.”

he waits before making another move, lips hovering over yours until he hears your soft confirmation. then he starts to descend lower.

his lips press against the cotton of your sleep shirt, across the soft pudge of your belly. and you hold you breath when his fingers graze over the hem of it, slowly beginning to push it up your plush thighs.

“eddie i—”

he must hear the alarm in your voice as he stops, warm eyes gazing up at you from where he’s positioned between your legs.

“do you want me to stop?” he asks.

the small shake of your head encourages him to continue, pushing the shirt up only until he can see the outline of your panties.

“we’ll keep this on, okay?” he motions to your shirt.

“okay,” you breathe.

you feel your body is on fire, every nerve ending like a live wire. and you practically jolt when you feel his lips press against your damp underwear, his tongue licking a slow stripe between your clothed folds.

“oh,” you sigh and you can feel his deep chuckle rumble against your core.

so he does it again, enjoying the breathy whine that tumbles past your lips. eddie’s fingers slide up your thighs, sneaking underneath the elastic of your underwear as he continues his actions. going slow enough to get you used to the feeling, but firm enough so you feel each drag of his tongue.

after your first failed attempt from earlier you feel ravenous, now bucking your hips up against his mouth. and your boyfriend seems to get the hint.

“you want them off, sweetheart?”

and you nod almost frantically, any feelings of insecurity pushed to the wayside as your desire slams back into you at full force.

not needing to be told again, eddie carefully guides the fabric down your thighs. tossing them next to you on the bed before he coaxes your legs to rest on his shoulders. even in the dark he can see the curly hairs that cover your mound and the sticky strings of desire when he guides your folds apart with his fingers.

you hear a soft curse leave his mouth, his hair tickling your inner thighs when he leans down further to guide his tongue through your slick.

“so fuckin’ pretty, baby.” he coos.

you gasp aloud at the sensation when the muscle delves deeper, dipping inside your entrance before dragging more slick up to your sensitive nub.

everything feels more heightened like this— more intimate. and you swear you’re more in love with him now than you ever been.

so you let your body sink further into the mattress while he tastes you properly for the first time. his own hips rutting against the bed in tandem with each glide of his tongue. the noises he’s making are downright filthy, the vibrations only aiding in bringing you closer to that release.

it’s right within your grasp, all you have to do is reach out and take it.

the edges of your vision start to blur while your fingers card themselves through his curls to hold him in place. and that wave that’s been building up inside you finally crashes over the surface.

your shaky cry of his name has him moaning into you, his hips twitching as he spills into the fabric of his boxers. and he doesn’t mind when your trembling thighs tighten around his head, keeping him locked into place between your hips.

not that eddie would ever complain.

you finally release him when the feeling becomes too much, thighs settling onto the bed when you tug at his curls. he lifts his head then, eyes mirroring your half lidded gaze. his slick-smeared lips shine in the moonlight that streams through his bedroom window and you feel another rush of emotion flow through you.

“thank you,” you whisper, voice cracking.

he brings your knuckles back to his lips, pressing a wet kiss onto each one. satisfied with his work, eddie crawls back up your body, pressing tender kisses until he reaches your lips. you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him even closer when your mouth do meet.

but that’s when you feel it. the warm, sticky mess that has soaked into his boxers and smeared across his hairy thighs.

“did you just— ?” you ask in almost disbelief, wide eyes meeting his own when he pulls back to give you a cheeky grin.

another gentle roll of his hips has you gasping aloud, the action pressing his mess further into your own as he chuckles deeply.

“damn right, i did.”

[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”

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

Warnings: Language, past trauma, mentions wounds, ptsd, anxiety, panic, fluff, mentions hurt/comfort, and smut. Plus sized reader. NSFW!

A/N: I missed Eddie. I’m feeling quite down on my body type, so I kind of wrote this with my own body size in mind ❤️

~*~

Eddie Munson always said he didn’t care. Didn’t want to be a boyfriend. Wasn’t pissed off if girls didn’t cling onto him after their brief time together (usually late nights, quiet places). If they don’t want the freak, why would the freaky freak want them? Fuck love, it’s just a facade.

At least, that’s what he used to say until he met you in the Spring of 86. You were involved in Henderson’s little banded family unit, constantly being talked about even before Eddie saw you. He was a bit perturbed already. If you were close to Wheeler and Harrington, you were probably a snob. Quite the contrary, as Eddie remembers clearly, watching you quiet from the sidelines as he’d been told monsters were real, but not cool dragons or slayers — just a teenage girl with mind powers.

Gentle, but rough. You dove in before Wheeler to save Harrington, you jumped back into that disgusting hole in the floor to try and help wake Nancy up, and when it came down to battle? You wore your outfit without fear, and silently had reached for Eddie’s hand on the way to everyone’s stations, squeezing. He’d seen that face before, your vacant expression, a false smile you attempted when you were not in thought. You weren’t okay, but you had been trying to make it that way for everyone else.

And it wasn’t, not for a long time. Not after you lost, he died, Carver died, and Mayfield went into a coma. A fight occurred in Hawkins before he was brought back, one that Eddie still sees in your eyes when the sun goes down and it’s quiet in the trailer, sans the beeping of the smoke alarm. Sometimes you just bring him impossibly closer, that he isn’t sure whose body heat is causing him to perspire. And others, you wake up in his arms, pulling him on top, clinging to his neck, your lips panting pleas into his mouth that ask for help.

Mutual scars, tragedy, blame, regrets, trauma, you helping his recovery, his process, even when he wasn’t so nice, that he wished he’d stayed gone. It’s all there, things that he feels safe only sharing with you. His marked body, one he is comfortable letting only you feel, see. He isn’t sure when it happened, really. But he knows now, especially looking at you beside him, your necklaces hanging around your neck, their charms dangling between your breasts, one leg propped, the other flat, lying open, evidence of the previous half hour shining between your thighs, and he’s propped on his palm, blowing out the last of his cigarette smoke, stubbing out the end.

You’re reading a piece of his work in progress fantasy novel, one based off of things that have happened. You’re lost in his vivid descriptions, captivated by his words, led by the hand that holds his pen. And his enriching, dark eyes, they caving into blown pupils, his ring clad finger trailing down your shoulder, following the curvature into your elbow’s inside. You’re already smiling by the time that he reaches your neck, sucking the flesh into his mouth, trailing wet kisses over your jugular. His arm elongates, easing his creation from your grip to throw aside.

You pretend to huff, and he catches your mouth in a kiss. It’s sloppy, tastes of smoke, but it’s precise, it’s familiar, it’s Eddie. Your fingers slide through his curls, freshly washed, yet frizzed from previous humidity. You tug on his blood stained pick, and he knows your implications, follows your soft look. He has to tilt your chin, shaking his head. “Remember that I’m right here, sweetheart. All of me but one nipple.”

He treasures you by bestowing that trademark Munson smirk, making your brief panic ebb away to pleasure. And you cave you into him, permitting his fingers to slide against your cunt, cupping. It’s a whine in his mouth that gets him to slide an ankle beneath yours, pulling you open for more availability. You could have anyone, you could’ve had something going on with Steve. But it’s Eddie you go to bed with every night, it’s he that you spend hours talking to on the phone when you’re not together, it’s him who holds you when you have a nightmare, and it’s Eddie Munson that you’ve already given your heart to, unbeknownst to him.

He’s falling into your grip, trying to situate himself, amused as he asks. “Already? Can you take it —“

And he goes head over ass, world Olympics type shit when you manage to maneuver him onto his back, unafraid, sat on top him in all over your glory. Your curves overflow, breasts sitting heavy, begging to be touched. You reach behind you, taking him in your hand. He’s nodding like an eager ass, little nerdy beaver. He could giggle right now. Your pupils are blown to the brim of your irises, a look of lavish possessiveness sweeping across him, and holy fuck does he feel sexy.

He doesn’t have to verbalize his consent, his brazen ‘take me now’ appears in the form of his hands reaching for your tits. You groan upon him getting a handful (and Christ, they still won’t fit). It’s a burning stretch, but you slide down his cock in moments, ones that Eddie holds his breath for, only able to gasp when you’re seated fully, sticky and spread around him.

He cares. He cares so much.

You grasp onto his wrists, clenching around him as he gives you two words, “Go, baby.” And then your hands are dropping to dig into his chest, thumbs beneath his chain, in newly grown out hair along his sternum, making scars feel like warrior wounds he’s proud to own.

You look at, leveling off his hands before they can drop from your breasts, pressing down so that he gets the message to grip tighter.

Fuck. He’s in love. He’s in love with you.

[bookshelf-dust]

something’s gotta give

gif by @kwistowee

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5,988

warnings: swearing, crude jokes, sexual innuendos, general hatred for either party, one small mention of a judgmental christian lady, depictions of an accident involving a box cutter, talk of blood and the ensuing wound, banter, both reader and eddie trying to get under each others skin, enemies to lovers trope

synopsis: eddie munson is a prick. a prick who also happens to be your coworker. you hate his guts. he hates yours. and who would think there’d be reason for anything else?

a/n: well, hello!! i’ve been working on this idea for a little bit, and it was definitely a challenge because i’ve never taken on something with this dynamic before. it was so tricky to come up with all these snarky remarks, to build up a world where it made sense. speaking of, this is without a doubt a 90s!au. i am proud of myself for trying something new and i think it turned out pretty good. shoutout to @clovermunson for listening to me vent about my struggles and helping me mold eddie into the smartass he is. also thank you to @steph-speaks for making me a cutie rb banner!! peep it at the end of the fic. happy reading!!! <333

————

“Here’s your change and…there’s your receipt.” 

You bump the cash register drawer with your hip, slamming the thick metal shut. You give a big, warm smile to the woman in front of you. She has a face full of freckles and the most beautiful silver hair that makes her blue eyes look insanely vibrant. 

She grins back at you, setting her palm on the countertop, her nails painted a pale, shimmery shade of pink. “Thank you, sweet pea. And thank you for helping me find some goodies!” She shakes her paper bag. 

You hand her a complimentary bookmark with the store name on it. “You’re so welcome. You’ll have to stop by and let me know what you think about that one!”

“Of course! You have a good day, now.”

“You too!” You give her a small wave as she walks out the door, and move to put away the store’s copy of her receipt. Your smile drops immediately when you feel a looming presence behind you. The paper in your hand gets crushed when you shove it under the counter. 

“Damn, you flick the bean this morning?” Eddie’s voice drips with malice. You know he’s wearing that sinister ass smirk before you even turn to face him. 

“Why? Need some advice on how to find it, Munson?” You grab a stack of books off the counter and slide out of the way so he can clock in. 

The sound of his boots on the carpeted floors tell you he’s following you. He always is. 

“I think it’s a valid question, princess. You’re in such a good mood it makes a guy wonder…” 

You stop in the mystery section, looking for authors with the last name beginning with ‘F,’ and begin to restock. “Well, Eddie, if I got off and that’s why I’m so bubbly today, it’s pretty clear to me that somebody gave you blue balls last night.”

He laughs, snatching a book out of your hand to put it on the top shelf when he sees you rise up on your tippy toes. It pisses you off. “Harsh, princess.”

You turn around at the sound of the doorbell, but he stops you with an arm outstretched to rest on the wall. 

You grab his hand and shove it out of your way. “I guess you should’ve put that hand to good use then and given yourself a quick, and probably little, job before you came to your real one.”

When you escape his vicinity, you look around for the customer you heard come in. There’s a young boy wandering through the back section where you sell records, tapes, CD’s, whatever the fuck. It’s Eddie’s section, and therefore not your problem. 

You hold eye contact with the man in question, giving him your bitchiest look possible. “You have a customer, Munson. And…” you glance at your watch, “I’m going on lunch.”

Eddie watches as you cross your arms and march off to the break room. His gaze falls to your ass. You’re wearing this long skirt, one that falls just above your ankles so your boots poke out. The fabric is loose and flowy, but manages to cling to your skin and he can see every curve when you walk. Every bounce of soft flesh—

“Hey, excuse me?” The voice of a boy, no more than fourteen, snaps Eddie out of his dick-controlled reverie. 

He spins around to face the kid, putting on his customer service face. “What can I do for you, little dude?”

In the break room, you stand in front of the microwave, shifting back and forth on your feet while you wait for your leftover pasta to warm up. It’s rare now for your shifts to line up with Robin’s. She is a good coworker, and you’d built up this system, this rhythm, that Eddie has never even tried to build with you. 

God, you miss her. And you fucking hate Eddie Munson. 

You pull out a chair and sink down into it, too pissed to care that you’re essentially manspreading and certainly eating like a slob. 

What angers you the most is that you tried to be friendly with Eddie when he was hired. You have seniority over him, and you were happy to help him figure out how things worked. But he didn’t give a fuck. To you, it seemed like he was too good for your help. 

But the first time you saw him ask Robin for help, you realized that he just…didn’t like you. And you don’t know why. You have always been nice to your coworkers. You have no reason not to be. Except when you get to a point that you’re forced to match their energy. 

You down the rest of your drink. You need to go out and get some fresh air, despite the fact that it’s fucking scorching outside. 

Up front, Eddie gives the young boy his receipt and a little bag full of cassette tapes, buttons, and a patch that he helped him pick out. Another child saved from the masses of pop music, he thinks. 

He taps his ringed fingers against the counter, lowering himself so that his elbows rest against the cool vinyl. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie catches a sticky note stuck to the edge of the computer monitor. 

The store’s goal total for today is written there, penciled messily in your handwriting. Eddie rolls his eyes. Why do you always have to be on top of everything like that? You’re so fucking uptight all the time Eddie’s surprised you don’t waddle because of the stick you permanently have up your ass. 

Ever since the day he got hired a few months ago, Eddie has despised you. He remembers taking a small tour of the shop and being introduced to you where you were organizing a new shipment of magazines. 

You stood, shyly fidgeting with the pin on your fitted denim vest. You were bubbly, with these sweet little doe eyes and an expression on your face like you were hoping to make a new friend. He remembers your palm feeling unsettlingly cold when he shook your hand, and now it all makes sense to him. 

What with the way you can change moods with the drop of a pin, how you manage to bring a storm cloud with you every time you walk in his direction but have everyone else wrapped around your finger. 

A cold-blooded bitch like you must surely feed on the souls of little children every morning. 

He hates how organized you are, how prepared. How you behave all patiently when you’re with a customer who’s been a prick, even though he knows it’s all an act because you’ll give him a death glare at any given chance. 

But most of all? He hates how fucking gorgeous you are. You’d think all that hatred would make you look like an old hag, but no. Instead you walk around in your skirts that show off that perfect ass and every once in a while you wear a shirt that shows the tiniest sliver of your stomach, or in some cases, your back, if you bend over. He hates when you wear those platform boots with the heels that allow you to level with him. 

And the fact that you’re walking toward him right now. 

Eddie watches as you strip off the cropped button-up you’d been wearing, exposing your bare arms. 

There’s a tattoo running up the length of your bicep that he’s never seen before. His gaze lingers on it for long enough that you catch it and raise a brow. 

“You cry when you got that, princess?” He points to the dark ink on your skin. 

You slide behind him and sit on the stool in front of the computer. 

“No, Eddie. I fell asleep. If you want to bond about how you wailed during each of your tattoo sessions, you’ll have to talk to Brian.”

He scoffs. “Guess you can handle a little prick then, huh?”

“I work with you everyday, don’t I?” You smile, but keep your eyes on the computer screen. There’s supposed to be a new shipment of books coming today, and your boss already asked you to set up the display when it gets here. That reminds you, and you speak before Eddie can give you a smartass remark. “Eddie, there’s a box of new vinyls in the back you’re supposed to sort and put out.”

“Yeah? I’ll get right on that, mom.”

You pinch your thumb and forefinger together so that you don’t snap. It’s such a shame that such a pretty man is such a fucking asshole.

The mouse starts to feel slick from your clammy hands as you click around, trying your best to track the package. Slam!

Eddie drops the box of records on the far end of the front desk, making you jump. He grabs a box cutter and pulls open the mess of cardboard and packing tape as aggressively as possible. 

Your head snaps in his direction. “Can’t you do that anywhere else, Munson?”

“Nah, babe. My only entertainment for the day is pissin’ you off, and I just clocked in.”

You facepalm. “Jesus fucking Christ, I miss Robin.”

Eddie cups his hand around the shell of his ear. “What’s that, princess? You need Buckley, huh? Bet she puts up with your shit.”

You stand up. “More like she puts up with me talking about the shit you put me through, because you masquerade as a sweet little angel when you work with her.” You’ve moved toward the other end of the counter before you can even realize, leveling with Eddie and getting in his face.

He places both of his hands on the table, grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Maybe it’s because Robin isn’t a fucking priss, and actually has a personality.”

That hits a nerve, and Eddie catches the way your brows twitch. But your poker face doesn’t slip, not for a second. Your eyes flick to the front door. 

“You have a customer, Munson. I’ll go take care of the records. Oh, and they’re a chick. Maybe you can go see if she has a personality that’s up to your standards and get your dick wet so that there’s a slight chance you become less of a raging asshole.”

Eddie looks over his shoulder at the young woman who’s just walked through the door. She has long, dark hair and more piercings than he can count. She’s his type, and he hates that you clocked that. When he turns back to you, you’re already taking the box off the counter. 

“Oh, and Eddie? Fuck you.”

You get the vinyls sorted and put away in record time. 

————

If it’s possible, the next day is hotter than the last. You’re sweating the second you walk out of your front door, your hairline quickly dampening and your thighs sticking together on the drive to work. 

You put on the one short dress you own today, grateful for the fact that your place of occupation doesn’t have a strict dress code. It’s too hot to wear anything, but the thin, mesh-like fabric and little spaghetti straps will do just fine. 

Luckily for you, Eddie’s shift doesn’t start until one, so you’ll be able to have a chill morning where you won’t feel like blowing your own brains out. Knock on wood, but you even feel a little giddy because Robin opened, which means she’ll be there to welcome you and greet you with a bit of peace. 

You pull open the front door, and pick up speed, knowing the cool air is just within your reach. The sounds of heavy metal reach your ears before you see him. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” 

You consider yourself lucky that the floor is empty, because you did not consult your conscience for one second before expressing your pure annoyance that Eddie is here before he was meant to be. 

You push up your sunglasses so they’re level with your eyebrows, and take a look at the figure standing behind the counter. There is no Robin anywhere in sight. “Where is Robin? Why the fuck are you here?” You catch Eddie’s gaze drag up and down your bare legs and that good mood flies right outside the front door. 

“Why are you dressed like that?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “What’s the matter, Eddie baby? You not see a lot of shoulders in that fuck ass club of yours?”

You pull your sunglasses back down over your eyes and grin, because you’ve just seen Eddie Munson blush. That one really hit the mark, and you are immensely pleased with yourself. 

Even more so when you realize he’s following you. You start switching your hips, knowing where his gaze is. You’re not as stupid as he thinks. 

His wallet chain is jingling, his hair flying behind him as he jogs to meet you in the middle of the store. If a customer were to walk in right now, they’d see the both of you standing nose to nose, a murderous look in your eyes, and probably feel like they’d just walked in on a taping for a soap opera. 

“What do you know about my fuck ass—” He coughs, practically chokes. “W-what do you know about Hellfire?” Eddie asks. You can almost see his blood boiling. 

You put your hand on his chest. “I’m a rogue, bitch.”

The sound of your laugh reaches Eddie’s ears before he’s even registered your hand on him, your breath on his neck, and that you’ve turned around and disappeared. There’s no way you’re not a witch. Are you a witch? What does a hex feel like? 

Eddie starts walking to the stacks, suddenly encouraged to see if you carry any witchcraft-related texts. The doorbell chimes and he’s forced to spin around. 

The group of people that have just pushed through the doors is huge. At least six teenagers of varying heights, followed by four or five college-aged kids. And they all look like they’re on a mission. Two of them head straight for the records, one for the magazines, and he loses sight of the rest down the romance aisle. 

In the back, you lock up your bag and shake out your shoulders. 

Your fingers fly over the radio, quickly changing the station Eddie had chosen to one you know plays much better music. You turn the dial down a little too, having already started to feel blood leaking out of your ears. 

At the counter, Eddie watches in horror as the teenagers grab armfuls of records and CDs. What’s worse is that a family of four walk in next. An older woman walks straight up to him. “Excuse me, sir?” Sir? What is he, a fucking mummy? “Where are your bibles and Christian novels?” He catches her eyeing the ink littering his pale arms. 

“I can show you to them, ma’am. If you wanna come with me, we’ve got a whole section just for that!” Your bubbly voice meets Eddie’s ears. And so do the sounds of “There She Goes” by The La’s. 

The woman turns on you, her smile brightening, and she’s quick to follow your purposeful step. Over your shoulder, you wink at Eddie. 

He knows it’s evil. He knows he fucking hates your guts. He hates that you’ve just charmed that red flag of a woman. But he’ll be damned if he fails to admit that his zipper didn’t feel just a little tighter at that faux flirtation in your expression.

“Let me know if you need help finding anything, alright? And if we don’t have anything in stock, we can always order it for you!” 

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and you’re practically stomping on your way back to the counter. You use the walk to actually take in Eddie for the first time since you came in. 

He’s wearing a t-shirt that he obviously cut the sleeves off of at home, purely based on the way they’re fraying. His arms are…beefy, to say the least. His skin looks unnaturally soft, and his biceps are just so big and they look like they’re begging to be squeezed or bitten, even. 

Your eyes wander lower when he’s called over to help a child cart probably ten CDs to the counter. His jeans aren’t tight, not exactly. But they fit. He’s got more ass than most people would know what to do with. You can’t help but wonder what it looks like outside of that ratty denim. Or what else he might use that bandana for. 

You park yourself in front of the register, getting the system set up before the rush you can feel coming on. The cracks in the leather seat below you pinch your thighs, but you can’t be bothered to care. You deserve it for thinking of such a dickhead that way. Why are the gorgeous ones always assholes? 

A quick glance over your shoulder tells you that Eddie’s not helping kids anymore, but shamelessly flirting with a girl who can’t be more than twenty-one. She looks slightly intimidated by him, until he flashes his ring-covered fingers in front of her. You recognize that look, the one that tells you she might just eat him alive. 

You fear she’ll be immensely disappointed when she truly gets to meet his personality. 

In the time he’s been trying to woo this young lady, a line has formed, and now you’re stuck cashing people out. The Christian lady is first. 

“You find everything you needed today?”

She drops some change into the tip jar and takes a mint from the tray you just restocked. “Yes, I did, sweetheart, thank you for asking. You see that? Yes, that one—isn’t it gorgeous?”

She forces you to look at the fancy bible she’s picked out, and you do so despite the voice inside your head screaming for her to fucking pay already and get out because she’s been here long enough and the line is only getting longer. 

“It sure is!” You do your best to smile kindly. You hand her the receipt and a small card that not only thanks her for her purchase, but promises a ten percent discount if she comes back within the next month. 

The next customer is easy, a ten year old with a storybook that has colorable pages and a bookmark with rainbow tassels. You hand him a sticker and tell him you like his Gizmo shirt, and he beams his way out the door. 

When you are confronted with a set of parents who clearly have more kids than they seem to want, you feel a warm breath on the back of your neck. “You have a happy pill on you I can have?”

Eddie takes the stack of books out of your hands and places each one in a paper bag. The customers aren’t even looking at you, what with the husband fussing about inflation and How much for a paperback? and the toddler trying to eat the rug.

“No, sweetie,” you start, sliding the bag across the counter, hoping maybe the woman will notice and take her gaze off the street just outside the window. She takes it without looking at you, without a word, and the husband walks away mulling over the receipt, not bothering to do a headcount of kids. “I can’t keep up with your stash of boner pills.”

Eddie laughs. He tosses his head back, bearing his thick neck to you. It’s a slow sound. You can’t help but feel like it’s not something you should hear. It feels like the kind of laugh someone saves for a lover in privacy. And it’s so gravelly and deep. 

The line has slowed, and all that’s left for you to do is keep an eye out for the customers slowly making their way up front. 

You tilt your head a little in Eddie’s direction, signaling that you’re speaking to him. “You probably do need them though, based on the way you were eye-fucking that girl earlier. God knows you’re gonna need a little…happy to keep up with her.” 

Eddie bends a little at the knees, getting his head completely level with yours, his brown eyes twinkling with malice. “You think about my dick a lot, princess?”

You place your hand on the counter, less than an inch between yours and Eddie’s fingers. One move and they’d be touching. Hell, one step forward and your front would be pressed to his. “More like I worry about it,” you say. 

He quirks a brow, his lips ticking up at the corners. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Since I see you try and pick up a girl in the store at least three times a week and you know what? They never stick. So either it’s that you can’t get it up, or it’s that if you treated any woman as well as you treat that guitar of yours, maybe they’d be satisfied.”

Eddie takes a step forward. You’ve never been this close to him. “You know, Princess, they might not last, but based on your fucking attitude, it seems like you’re jealous.”

“Jealous?”

He pushes a strand of hair out of your face. Your blood pressure spikes. It feels like your veins are turning colors with how angry you are. Eddie has the nerve to laugh. 

“Yeah. I think all this bitchiness comes from the fact that no one will put their dick anywhere near you. They’re probably afraid you’ll make it shrivel up and die.” You don’t say anything, and he just keeps going. “Hell, I’m nice enough that I’d fuck you if that meant you’d get off my back.”

Your entire body goes rigid. And in that moment, you know that’s exactly what he wanted from you. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction. 

“Thanks for the offer, Munson. But I’d rather gouge my own fucking eyes out than let you touch me. If you wanna see me as a priss, that’s fine. But at least I’m not an insufferable prick who can’t give a damn about anyone who’s not shoved so far up my own ass and ready to fall at my feet at any given moment. Some people have to grow the fuck up.” You practically spit out the last few words, your voice laced with venom. 

Eddie blinks. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes glazed over. For the first time since he met you, he doesn’t have shit to say.

————

You and Eddie are the only ones on schedule today. 

You haven’t spoken in days, just moving around one another and doing your jobs in silence. You can’t lie about the pride you feel in your chest from having finally gotten to him. Even if the dead quiet is unsettling, you feel a sick sense of satisfaction. 

You think Eddie might’ve even mastered the art of a fake, but amiable personality. 

You’re currently hiding away in the back room, unpacking new shipments of books, vinyls, display materials, along with all the shit you actually need like paper for the register and cleaning supplies. 

Not that it matters where you are because you’ve had a total of one customer today. But that’s how Wednesday’s go. 

It’s sort of mindless, this activity. You slide the box cutter over the packing tape, rip open each box, take everything out, stomp the box flat, repeat. It’s not very stimulating, but you don’t hate it. 

The last box though is covered in enough clear tape to catch every fly in the world, and it’s taking some serious sawing to get through. You set your hand on the worn and slightly damp cardboard, bracing yourself to get one end of it loose. 

You’re just getting there when the blade finds a raindrop on the silky tape and slips free. You’re not expecting that, of course, and the blade slices the skin of your forearm quickly and thoroughly. 

You yelp, dropping the box cutter. You’re never one to wail or scream, but you let out a whimper at the shock of pain. Your non-dominant hand starts to shake as you take in the wound.

You’re too panicked to realize that your frightened exclamation could be heard up front, considering there’s no music playing and you left the receiving room’s door open. 

It doesn’t look deep enough to need stitches, but it’s bleeding. Quite a bit, actually. 

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.”

There are thudding footsteps, and then Eddie appears in the doorway. “Fuck fuck fuck, what? Bein’ so damn loud.” He pauses, taking in the sight before him. 

Your eyes are glazed over, your hands shaking, and you’re cupping your forearm so as to not let blood drip all over the floors. 

“Oh fuck off, I do not need this right now!” you exclaim, knowing he’s going to berate you or say something demeaning and you are not going to cry in front of him. 

Eddie says your name. 

He never says your name. It makes you look up at him, and you almost feel nauseous at the sincere look on his face. 

“Do you need me to drive you somewhere?”

You roll your eyes. “No, Eddie. I’m not fucking helpless! And I’m not bleeding out either!”

He steps towards you, his hands outstretched like he’s a ringmaster, like he’s trying to tame an apex predator. “But you are bleeding.”

“No fuckin’ shit, Sherlock—”

“Let me help you—”

You decide to shove past him, whimpering your way towards the bathroom. Eddie is on your heels. You try to shut the door in his face, but he plants his boot firmly on the floor and prevents you from it. His glare is unwavering. 

He repeats your name once more. It sends a shiver down your spine. “Just—just fucking stop for a minute, okay? Let me help you. Let me do this one thing without any of this shit, you hear me?” 

You blink. Eddie kicks the door stopper down so it stays open. His eyes flick to the toilet seat. “Sit.”

You’re too winded to say no. So you sit down, cradling your arm, while Eddie rummages around for gauze and wipes and whatever the fuck he can find because he’s not a nurse but he has had to clean himself up on more than one occasion. 

You can’t process that Eddie is treating you this way. Like a human. That he’s insisting on helping you when he doesn’t get anything out of it. 

When he returns, he settles on his knees in front of you, looking into your eyes to make sure it’s okay for him to touch you. You hate the way your stomach flips. But the little shift in your arm tells him it’s alright. 

Eddie’s fingers are cold on yours as he turns your forearm outward so he can look at the wound. You can’t help but watch as he works on you. Takes care of you. 

He sets a paper towel underneath your arm, using another to press down on your skin and make sure the bleeding has stopped. The pressure hurts, but you don’t say a word. 

Eddie hooks his foot around the corner of the trash can, pulling it closer. He throws out the bloody towel and wets another, being as gentle as he can in an effort to clean all of the dried red splotches from your skin. 

The cut isn’t deep, but it definitely nicked a few capillaries along the way. It is a little longer though, and Eddie has to use two big pieces of gauze to cover it. This is after he’d swiped your arm with alcohol wipes, grinning to himself because of how hard you were trying not to show him any weakness. 

Eddie’s thumb lingers on your skin long after he’s taped you up. You’re both silent, sitting in your shitty workplace bathroom. You can feel that he wants to say something, but you don’t know what. It’s why you haven’t gotten up yet. 

You notice his eyes on your face before you meet his gaze. “Will you look at me?” he says. Your heart jolts in your chest. 

“What for?”

“So that I can tell you why I’ve been a giant dick since I met you and you’ll see I’m being real with you.”

Your head shoots up, mainly because you can’t really believe he’s just said those words. “Hold on,” you laugh, “You’re going to explain yourself now? After I spent all that time trying to be your friend and you—”

“Treated you like shit, yeah I know.” Eddie drags his hands down his face. You’re not sure why, but you feel compelled to listen to him. “I showed up and you were there in your cute fucking skirts and you were so nice to everyone and just so…good? I couldn’t stand it.”

You blink. 

“I’m not like that. I’m not good with people and empathetic like you are and it takes me a long fucking time to do anything right. And I chose to take that out on you, to hate you, because you were so perfect, and that was easier than falling for you.”

Your mouth drops open. He what? Eddie waves his hands in your direction. 

“Close your mouth, you’re gonna catch flies. I hated that I could’ve dropped to my knees for you the second I met you. You looked at me like I was precious, like you were happy to meet someone new, and I’m such a fuck up, such a nuisance to so many people, that there was no way I was going to let a pretty girl like you befriend me and have me ruin it all. Because the truth is, I’d kill to be as fucking good as you are.”

You start shaking your head. You feel your eyes glaze over, so you look down at your freshly bandaged arm. 

“And I realize that the only reason you’re a dick to me is because I started that shit.”

You let out the barest hint of a laugh. “It’s called matching your energy. There wasn’t any point in trying to befriend you when you…hated me.”

Eddie says your name again. “I don’t hate you. I do hate myself though, and that I was so—”

“Jealous?” you interrupt, finishing for him. 

He tugs on the hair at the base of his neck. God, this is the most ridiculous fucking thing. 

“Yeah. Jealous that I don’t have as much good in me as you do. I’d see you working, see you happy to help anyone, see you pull more weight than anyone else here. I hated that you’re everything I’m not.”

When you finally look back up at him, you’ve gone all teary, and something inside Eddie breaks. It snaps. 

“We’re not supposed to be the same. If we were, nothing would ever work. You act like you’re just—just this helpless piece of shit, Eddie. You aren’t. But I can’t make you realize that. All I can do is tell you that if you want to be more charismatic—or whatever the fuck—you gotta work at it.”

He’s looking at you with his stupid ass doe eyes, and you think you finally understand him. 

“It doesn’t matter if you’re everything I am, Munson. No one else is livin’ your life for you.” You start to trail off, but not quite yet. “I wish you hadn’t been so fucking sincere so I could yell at you.”

Eddie tosses his head back, bearing his neck to you, and laughs. He raises his hands, beckoning you. “C’mon. Let me have it. You deserve it for how many times I’ve called you a priss.”

You shake out your shoulders, and if you weren’t still drained from the box cutter incident you’d jump up and hop back and forth like you’re readying to get in the ring. 

“I get it, you know? But I also don’t think it’s fair, because, and I’m gonna be honest here, the day you got hired I thought you were so gorgeous. Trust me, I was fully weak in the knees. You were also dressed like, well, you, and I wanted to at least make friends with you because you seemed, to use your words, good.”

“I heard you crack a few jokes, saw you picking up on how things worked, and then with me it was like you had this alter ego. I just don’t think it was fair that I got the short end of the stick here, even if I did enjoy being a smartass to you. So I guess what I’m really saying is, why me? Why weren’t you a dick to Robin, or Brian or fuckin’ Keith? Why not take out your jealousy on someone else?”

Eddie stands up, shoves his hands in his back pockets. “You can hit me if you feel like it, because I know this is going to sound fucked.” He pauses, and then all the words spill out at once, leaving you completely breathless when he’s finished. 

“Not only was I jealous of how perfect your soul is, but you being so sweet made me want you. I wanted you all to myself. I wanted that personality, those kind remarks, that look you get in your eye when you’re listening so well, I wanted it all around me, all the time. It felt like you were this fucking angel, I wanted to lose myself in you.”

“But it didn’t feel like I’d be worthy of you either. I figured you’d get sick of me, real quick, when you realized I wasn’t as good of a person as you. When you figured out all the shit I need to work through. It seemed easier to hate you than to have you see me the way everyone else does. Nobody wants a work in progress.”

You laugh. You take in your surroundings, still in the work bathroom, and you laugh. Eddie’s brows shoot up, and his heart drops out of his ass and onto the tile floors below him. 

“Eddie, everyone is a work in progress. And I am an extremely patient person.”

He recovers himself fast enough to make one more smartass remark. “You’re sure you don’t wanna kick me in the balls or somethin’?” 

You take a step towards him, breathing deeply. Breathing him in. 

“Not right now, Eddie. What’s frustrating though, is how much I want to kiss your dumb ass. Your annoying, over-complicating, completely ridiculous, stupid hot fucking ass.”

Eddie blinks. You might as well have kicked him in the balls because he can’t even think a single coherent thought now. Not with the way you’re pushing up onto your toes and pulling him down towards you, shaking your head so he doesn’t make up something stupid about not deserving it. 

And then your mouth is on his. Your lips are so warm, and everything else disappears. All Eddie can feel is you. Your perfume engulfs him, the heat of your chest pressed against him, the soft fat of your hip under his hand. When you pull on his hair he almost whimpers. 

You kiss hard, harder than he’d have thought, but it’s so gentle at the same time. You’re kissing him stupid. There’s no other way to put it. The only thing that pops in his head is that his suspicions about you being a witch were totally fucking spot on. 

When you finally pull away, your lips have gone all puffy, and there’s this dazed but incredibly satisfied look in your eye. He’d take you home right now and get on his knees for you if you’d let him. 

Your lips tick up at the corners, and he has to shake his head so he can really hear what you’re about to say. 

“Aren’t we on the clock, Eddie?”

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[munsondjarin]

eddie is the type of guy who takes any opportunity to kiss you. you’re helping him clean up after hellfire and as he passes by he leans down and places a kiss at the base of your neck before he resumes cleaning up. he peppers your face with soft morning kisses and slow reverent ones at night. forehead kisses after sex. he’s laying on your stomach while you read in bed and he’ll occasionally place a kiss onto your skin. kisses on your hand at a red light. he’ll make a show of grabbing your hand as you hop out of his van and kiss the back of your hand. when he walks by you at school he’ll quickly stoop down to kiss your cheek and keep walking as you turn and watch him walk away. kisses to your ankle as he takes off your shoes after you’ve had a long day. him wrapping his arms around you from behind when you least expect it and kissing the edge of your shoulder. kisses to your temple as you both sit together watching tv. him leaning over you from behind while your sitting to place a kiss on your forehead, his hair falling down temporarily blocking your view. whenever you’re hugging, he loves to kiss the top of your head. when you’re holding hands he likes to bring the back of your hand to his lips. whenever you’re caressing his face he tilts his head to kiss the inside of your wrist and the inside of your palm. when you’re sleeping he places a quick kiss on your hipbone as he climbs into bed with you. he’d definitely do the hand to shoulder kisses like gomez addams.

[ryan-waddell11]

“I’m not pouting”

[saramelaniemoon]