#icky!eddie munson

[hotwritergf]

Boyfriend!Eddie finds your porn history. Eddie Munson x female reader. Smut. Blurb🍆

Word count- 1.2k

🍆 “Hey baby.. umm I don’t wanna embarrass you..”Eddie was sprawled across the couch, his limbs representing an octopus whilst his curls fell down the arm of the couch. You had let him borrow your laptop, Dustin had split soda over Eddie’s during their latest dnd campaign. He smiles as he notices your wall-paper is a picture of the pair of you, that trip to the forest was one of your favourites.

“Huh?” You spoke, confusion filling the air. You were easily embarrassed so just the thought of being embarrassed made your face flush. “It’s just, I lost my page I was working on so- so I went on the history page to find it again. But I didn’t just find my campaign document, I saw your umm history. Baby I, I don’t want you to be embarrassed I mean we all do it right?” Your face burns under his words, you know exactly what he’s stumbled across.

“Seriously doll, your choices here.. My innocent little girl, isn’t so innocent huh?”He smirks, eyes gazing over your flushed face. You feel stuck to the floor, like any moment now the ground is going to open up and swallow you whole. “Eddie-“ You finally manage to muster up the courage to speak, your words causing your stomach to churn in shyness. “It’s okay. It’s all okay princess. I’m impressed, I mean let’s see here. ‘Blonde babe worships her step-father’s sweaty balls’ Well that’s filthy isn’t it? ‘Anal training’ Oh? You want me to take that other little hole for a test drive? ‘Double penetration mmf threesome.’ Sweet girl I had no idea you could be so kinky! Look at this here. ‘Submissive girl has play time with Daddy.’ Is that me? I’m your daddy?” He teases, his smirk practically audible in his voice as he teases. Your embarrassed self can’t handle much more. He was never meant to see this, these searches they were just late night curiosity. Late night self pleasure when Eddie couldn’t be there with you.

You nod, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Your hands need to be doing something as the anxiety reaches your throat. You swallow it down and gulp in nervousness as Eddie walks towards you. He takes his hand and caresses your face softly. His touch both exhilarating and comforting under the current circumstances. “You weren’t meant to see that.” You swallow the saliva collected in your mouth. “It’s just… porn. For when you’re not here and I- well you know the rest.” You speak so quietly that you could hear a pin drop in the room, the atmosphere was tense but he couldn’t seem more relaxed. Eddie’s smile beams, under the knowledge they were really your searches and you didn’t try and lie your way out of it.

“And are those the sorts of desires my princess has been having on those oh-so-lonely nights where she’s banished to stay in her castle?” He speaks in his dungeon master voice, running his index finger down your throat, smirking as he watches your throat gulp and the goosebumps appearing down your neck and arms. Your feet feel superglued to the floor, stuck in confrontation you can do nothing but stare at the carpet, looking your boyfriend in the eye seems alien in this moment.

“Yes. But don’t think you have to indulge me! If you’re not comfortable we never have to do any of that. I’ll never force you Eds.” You babble, worrying about every word in your speech sounding patronising or rude. You look up to him, doe-eyed with a hint of regret. He smiles, holding the back of your head softly. Cupping your chin with his finger he raises your head to meet him at eye level.

“Oh darling girl. How naive. I would move the heavens and earth for you. You’re asking me to fill both of your holes, let you call me daddy and worship my balls while they’re sweaty? It’s filthy. It’s a little taboo. Perverse maybe. Letting my girl worship me and being able to spoil both of her holes with pleasure? It’s a mere inconvenience, I mean you’re really gonna have to pay me back for this sweetheart you know.” Eddie jokes, speaking in his dungeon master voice again. Knowing that voice always flusters you, as if you needed to be any more flustered.

Staring at the floor, “So you’re okay with it?” You ask earnestly. “More than okay. In fact, come to think of it.. I haven’t showered yet today. Definitely haven’t shaved my balls in ummmm ever? How about you take that pretty face of yours down there and make your daddy feel good?” You needed no further encouragement, you’d already been hiding your arousal from the embarrassment of being found out about your kinks, humiliation being another one.

You unbuckled and shimmied off Eddie’s jeans, palming him through his boxers as he grunts your name and several curse words. He was hard as a rock already, and a small wet patch over his boxers where he’d begun to leak a bead of pre-cum. Instincts took after and you licked up the wet stripe of his underwear, vaguely tasting his salty fluid. With your face so close to his underwear clad genitals, you couldn’t help but breathe in his scent. The odour of sweat and pre-cum mixed together was your perfect aphrodisiac. Nestling your face into his hard on, you inhale all you can of him. Eddie slides off his boxers and takes his cock into his hand, jerking it slowly whilst looking down at you. You look up with ‘fuck me’ eyes and a cheeky smile, removing his hand from his length.

You lean upwards, placing your nose under his cock. His pubes tickle your nose as you lick circles over his fuzzy balls, swallowing the loose hairs that collect on your tongue. “Dirty fucking girl aren’t you? So gross.” Eddie mutters through his teeth biting down on his bottom lip. You smirk, all innocence leaving your body. You steady your hand on the tip of his cock as it begins to leak again, taking one of his balls into your mouth and suckling as if it was a pacifier. You speak as best as you can whilst sucking onto him. The noises you make aren’t translate-able, they’re more-so moans and groans. “Don’t speak with your mouthful angel.” Eddie coos, taking your hair into a ponytail and holding it behind your head. He forces his ball out of your mouth and guides your mouth onto his cock. “M’so close.” He grunts as he fucks your mouth, pulling you backwards and forwards onto his dick so far down your throat that you’re gagging. You slurp up the salvia that begins to dangle from his length. He comes undone in your mouth, emptying the fuzzing balls that were once in your mouth and you taste the liquid that you’ve had a hunger for. A rope of cum hangs from your lip and he wipes it up with his finger, before helping you swallow the last drop from sucking it up off of his finger.

“Thank you daddy.” You look up at Eddie with a shit-eating grin like butter wouldn’t melt. “My good little girl.” He responds, you mentally thank yourself for never clearing your search history. 🍆

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

This is just a thought what about sick reader and Eddie takes care of her and acts like it's the end of the world they're sick because now he can't kiss her

Oh, he would be so upset he couldn't kiss you because you're sick. He'd try to sneak one in quickly as much as possible (Request are currently open)

Eddie munson x reader

Warnings: none, fluff sick reader.

WC:1.5k

A/n: Not proofread.

𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝑬𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒊𝒕.

Your head was throbbing. Your nose burned from the number of times you had to constantly wipe it. You couldn't smell anything. Your skin felt raw. You could barely taste anything. Off and on, you'd feel icky like you had to throw up.

You felt okayish yesterday morning, but by that evening, that's when you really felt it. You were sick. Obviously. Not only were you sick, but you were sick and staying at your boyfriends home for the weekend. All the plans he made for you two are canceled. You hated being sick. You turned into the biggest baby when you unwell.

Eddie had been waiting on your hand and foot all night, and now, all day. He kept telling you he didn't mind it. But you still felt bad. Not only that, but you just really wanted him to cuddle you until you got better. He couldn't. You wouldn't allow him to. Instead, you made him sleep in the living room with Wayne. You didn't want to get him sick, too, so you wouldn't let him get too close.

You could hear Eddie's feet stomping on the floor getting closer. His voice yelled out to his Uncle Wayne about something. He had his metal music playing quietly out in the living room as he cooked you some lunch. You barely could smell anything. Your stomach growled. Food just right now didn't seem appealing. You knew eddie was going to make you eat a little something anyway to help you keep some strength in your body.

"Nurse Eddie reporting for duty!" He sang, kicking open the bedroom door a little hard."Oops."

You had your face covered with the blanket, trying your hardest not to spread your germs to everyone.

Eddie looked at you with a smirk. "Do I smell or something?" He joked.

You shook your head. "Nooooo."

"Then don't hide that pretty face from me." He smiled down at you, trying to hold in a laugh. You really were so cute when you're sick, he thought. "Got your soup."

He had a tray full of soup, toast, juice, and lots of tissues. You carefully sat up in bed. Your body felt weak, and your head was getting foggy. Your eyes were bloodshot and droopy.

"Thank you." Your voice croaked.

He sat the tray down over next to you on the bed. "it's no problem, beautiful."

You grimaced but didn't argue.

Eddie picked up the thermometer, and you instantly opened your mouth as he stuck it under your tongue. You waited a couple of seconds before hearing that beep.

"Hmm, still have a low fever." He gave a weak smile going in for a kiss.

"No, eddie!" Your raspy voice protests, and you pull away fast.

He frowns. "Awe, come on, it's just one little kiss. I'm dying over here."

"How do you think I feel?" Your voice kept going in and out the longer you talked.

"All I want is for you to cuddle me, but I don't want you getting sick too." You had a sad pout on your face as you crossed your arms.

"Sweetheart, I can still always do that, but you banished me to the unknown out there with Wayne. He spoke softly, setting the thermometer to the side.

"I didn't banish you." You frowned. "I don't want you to feel like I do."

His face softened, and his heart melted. If you would give in, he'd pull you into the tightest hug possible. He was so worried about you. Yes, it was only a little virus you had. That still would not be enough to keep him from worrying about you. Seeing you in bed looking so defeated broke him.

Eddie moved the tray closer in between you both, making it easier for him to reach everything. He picked up the spoon sitting in the bowl full of tomato soup. Your favorite comfort food. He stirred the spoon around before scooping up some of the soup. He brought it close to his mouth, lightly blowing on it to cool it off for you.

"Come on, pretty girl, open up." He continued speaking in a soft tone. He knew his voice was also soothing to you somehow.

You opened up, allowing him to spoon feed you. You didn't mind this. You were actually loving how he was taking care of you. The tomato soup was creamy and warm. It soothed your sore irritated throat as you swallow it down.

Eddie continued spoon feeding you your soup. Each time he stirred the spoon around and blew on it, cool it down for you. You watched his movements and how careful he was being with you. He kept his distance some what. You knew he was going to get sick, too. Even after all the trouble and fussing you did in order to prevent that from happening. You knew deep down it would.

"Kiss?" Eddie held the spoon over the bowl looking at you. His eyes pleading for you to say yes.

"Eddie, you can't kiss me." You whined and quickly covered your mouth to cough in the blanket.

"Just a tiny one. That's all I need. I just need to feel those soft lips on me for a split second." He pleads blowing on your soup.

"No." Your tone stern as you squint.

Now it was Eddie's turn to pout. He brought the spoon back to your lip for you to eat. "I can't believe this is happening to us."

He was being his over dramatic self again. You were used to it. You figured he would be after you kept denying him of a "simple little kiss."

Of all the years you and him have been together. Neither one of you has been this sick before. The two of you are not dealing with it well. The separation is killing you both. Even though he's only in the other room in the same trailer. The lack of physical affection is taking its toll. You wanted to cry. You were always very sensitive when you got sick.

"I can't believe it either. Who did we piss off?"

"Your mother." He mumbled under his breath.

He was just joking. Well, not really, but maybe a little bit. You heard him and shot a look before shivering.

He dropped the spoon into the half empty bowl. He looked proud at how much you ate since you wouldn't touch anything last night.

"You look so pitiful, baby. I hate seeing you like this." He took a napkin, dabbing some of the soup from your chin.

Eddie pushed the tray of food to the side and pulled the blankets up higher on your body.

"I really need a cuddle." Your eyes were getting heavy. Your throat was sore, and it hurt to talk. Your head was spinning so fast.

He gave you a weak smile. "I really need a cuddle too."

"I'm sick." You whispered, but it was a reminder of why he couldn't get in bed with you.

"I really want to kiss and cuddle that sad look off your face-" He looked over to the bowl of soup and back to you. "Make ya feel better"

"You can't right now, Eddie." Your raspy voice reminded him yet again.

He shook his head. You could see the prominent stubble on his chin. His eyes looked like he's barely slept, too. All throughout the night, Eddie snuck into his room to check on you. He'd put a cool cloth on your forehead. There were extra blankets draped over your body. He constantly checked to see if you had a fever by putting his wrist to your forehead. He was exhausted but didn't want to show it.

Eddie gazed at you for a moment. He saw how much this fever has taken out of you. If you were going to be sick, then so was he. He couldn't bear seeing you go through this alone. Yes, he knows he's not thinking rational, but he also doesn't care. He's an action and consequences, first kinda guy. Then he can think everything through after.

Without hesitation, Eddie picked up the spoon you were eating off of and stuck it straight in his mouth. "See, now I'm sick too."

"What the hell you can't do that." You tried to sit up, but your body was too weak.

"Ah, ah, lay back down, sweetheart." He pointed his finger. He picked the tray off the bed, placing it down on his nightstand.

Eddie got under the covers with you. He got right up next to you. You readjusted to lay on your side with your back pressed to his chest. His body heat instantly helping warm you up fast. You felt his hand go underneath your pajama shirt to rest on your tummy.

He gave your cheek a gently kiss. Then another one and another one. Soon, he was peppering your face with kisses all over. You started squirming around in bed, both laughing like crazy. He finally stopped, not wanting to make you lightheaded or anything.

"Jesus christ, ed-stop, I swear to God." You warned between giggles. That turned into a small coughing fit.

"There -" He patted your back while you coughed up a lung. "I feel sooo so much better." Eddie chuckled, cuddling up against your back.

"Buuut, you're gonna get sick." You whined and placed your hand on top of his as he pulled you closer.

"Then you can be my little nurse next." He gave you one last kiss to your temple.

You rolled your eyes. "Fine, I guess. Do I gotta wear that dumb nurse costume from Halloween last year?"

"Oh, you can bet your sweet ass you do." He sighed in content. "I love you baby, now get some rest."

"I love you too."

[belokhvostikova]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, minor alcohol consumption, mentions of drug dealing, insecurities, trouble with feelings, and explicit sexual content: mentions of virginity loss and suggestive comments (not totally explicit, but still there so…).

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

Yeah, no, it was totally the party.

It was the party that littered your house with blurred faces, swaying bodies, and their drink of choice that consisted of the pungent concoction of fruit punch and booze that caused the icky feeling in your stomach to churn.

It was the strangers, who—when given the opportunity, wouldn’t think twice about ignoring your existence—tainted your once cozy furniture with dirty shoes and outside clothes that now soiled in sweat that made you fall sick with nausea.

It was the betrayal of Carmen Paiz, as the sudden regret of disclosing your parent-less weekend to her unwarrantedly prompted your friend to spread the word of a Saturday night party at ours that made you feel ridden with queasiness.

Christ, you were just alluding to a girls night.

All you knew for certain, though, was that it totally wasn’t Eddie Munson.

No, it couldn’t be how close he was leaning into her that forced a lump in your throat. Or her manicured hand roaming the expanse of his arm. Or her giggles that filtered between them, as she stretched upon her tippy toes—because, of course, she was effortlessly cute—to whisper into his ear.

Yeah, no, it couldn’t be that. Because if it was that, it would only confirm the utter pathetic-ness of your existence; falling in love with a guy you slept with once. Who does that?! Granted, it was also your first time sleeping with anyone ever, but, of course, in the grand scheme of fearing rejection, you just had to brush off his concerns, and brand yourself the “cool” virgin, who wouldn’t get emotionally attached to the drug dealer that took said virginity.

God, what a liar you were.

Unbeknownst to you, a piteous frown had permanently etched itself onto your face. Should you have seen yourself, you wouldn’t coiled up and shriveled away from embarrassment. Like the freak masochist you had suddenly become, your eyes couldn’t tear away from the pair; torturing yourself as punishment for being so unbelievably stupid.

And to really just hammer the nail into the coffin, the round eyes that once bore into yours just a few days ago in the back space of his van had suddenly caught sight of you over the breadth of her shoulder.

Whiplash had never hit you so hard before, as you succumbed the bitterness that filled your red solo cup. But no forceful amount of chugging could deny the fact that you had painfully been caught red handed.

Staring like a perverted psycho?!

Your feet found themselves trailing up the steps to your bedroom before you could even think. With a heaving chest and a will no longer there to live, your bedroom door slammed behind you, as the bass of whatever Top 100 Hottest Hits vibrated against you.

Humiliation slumped your shoulders low, as bated breaths trapped themselves in your enclosing throat. Left with just yourself in your ill-lit room, your eyes scoured the moutain of clothes that cluttered your bedroom, because Eddie Munson was coming over.

Only, whatever attempts you made to appear “drug-dealer’s-hot-girlfriend” worthy fell short, as you stood in a poorly picked ensemble, catered directly for his attention.

Mission failed beyond miserably.

Disgusted by the feelings that infested in your belly, the sudden impulse to purge your room clean became inevitable. Ransacked became an understatement, as you rummaged through laid out garments, letting shirts and skirts take your belittling critiques to suppress those burning tears from falling.

Christ, weren’t you too old to be wearing a pattern like that?! And that shirt?! No one of this generation would ever humiliate themselves by wearing something like that! God, and enough with the blue! When were you going to learn that the color doesn’t look good on y-

“Sweetheart?” His knuckles rattled against your door.

In a panic, your unshed tears were sniffled away, as you set yourself straight against the mess of your bedroom. “Uh… y-yeah, come in!” You swallowed the lump in your throat.

You hadn’t dared to face the courage to see him, merely being content with listening to the brief exposure of music coming in and out with the door finally closing behind him.

And with the jangle of his wallet chain, his stature consumed the area beside you. “Are you okay?” He whispered.

You felt the burn of his scrutinizing eyes against you. “I…” Silence ate at you. “I think I have too much clothes.”

“Oh.” For once, Eddie had actually gotten a good look at the state of your bedroom.

“But I hate them all.”

“Oh.”

There was guilt that resided in his voice; a hurt in his chest for causing the congestion of your voice. But you couldn’t fault. And Eddie knew you never would. He, too, was confused.

“Yeah, l-like this dress, y’know.” You croaked, huffing out an awkward laugh. “Like, I don’t even wear dresses, look too stupid in them to ever do so.” You wished for nothing more than for him to give up those pitying looks, and just laugh along to your damage control. “Don’t even know why I bought it.”

“I don’t think you look stupid.” He softly corrected your narrative.

You had to give him props. Here he was comforting you for something you assured him would never happen. But feelings have a way of working against you. You chuckled. “Eddie, you’ve never even seen me in a dress.”

“So, show me.” Sigh, you walked right into that one.

The corners of his lips upturned to the loveliness of that image; you, in a dress. If only you could see it as such.

With his hands bunching at the material, he took his rightful place before you, letting the springs of your bed accommodate to his weight, before he presented you the dress. There was an urgency to his eyes that made the situation unavoidable. That Eddie Munson, himself, was cemented onto your bed until you showed him yourself in a way he knew you deserved.

To feel beautifully you.

With hesitation, your fingertips played with the hem of your shirt. “Um, close your eyes?” You, yourself, didn’t know why it came out as a suggestion. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if he had said no, virginity-taker or not.

But instead, he smiled, trying to tease one out of you. “Y’know I’ve seen you naked before, right?” Yeah, that was the issue in the first place! “Or am I really that forgettable?”

Though, Eddie hadn’t expected you to take it so seriously. “No!” You rushed out. “I-I didn’t forget. It’s just, um, y’know, different now.”

A breathy chuckle of disbelief left his mouth. “Only because I want it to be a surprise.” He smirked, letting his childish antics dramatically flare his hands over his eyes.

In the bedroom of your house, Eddie Munson sat on your bed, listening carefully to the sway of your body, wondering how he could properly prepare himself for the sight of you.

Just you. Not Lacey O’Connell. Because, spare him, a little flirt with clientele wasn’t the end of the world. Just a matter of business.

The shifting of your clothes embedded a smile onto a face. Perhaps, you’d been sporting another mismatched underwear set. A grin like no other consumed him, as he relished in the memory of the one you wore the night he got to have you.

The same night where he legitimately asked you why he would ever care for your different bra and panties, after your profuse apologies about the unmatched set confirmed just how utterly adorable you were.

You swallowed thickly. Fluffing out the tightness of being unworn before now, you made sure to take three steps back for his view (and your escape plan, should everything fall apart, now you were three steps closer to the door for running away purposes).

“Um,” you whispered, “you can look now.”

Popping your knuckles became a grand excuse to not look at his face, but had you done so, you would have seen the slacking of his jaw, as his eyes flashed with the roundness of being in awe.

Eddie Munson was abusing every second to drink you in.

“Don’t get rid of that dress.”

“What?”

“You’ll do a disservice to this world and yourself, if you get rid of this dress.” You waited for the teasing glint to come, but his words had never been spoken so matter-of-factly before until now.

“I-”

“You don’t have too much clothes.” His brows creased to the gravity of his voice. “Don’t… don’t get rid of anything.” Eddie stood from his place. “Please.”

Your eyes bounced between his, before you shakily sighed. “I feel stupid, Eddie.” You whispered, tears brimming at your lash line.

“You’re just not used to it.” His hand came to caress the tension from your stiffing posture. “Believe me, I feel like that, too, sometimes.” He huffed out a chuckle. “All the time, actually.” What a lie that had to be. Eddie Munson had an envious way of being unabashedly himself. “Because of you.” He watched your face crumple into confusion. “And it makes me do really stupid things.” He sighed. “Like, not talking about what supposed to happen after we-”

“That’s not your fau- Eddie, I told you not to worry about it.” You peered to the carpeted floor in disappointment. “Really, it’s my own fault for n-not being honest with you, and, uh, myself. A-And now I’m just feeling a lot of things that I don’t understand, but I don’t want you to feel responsible for it. Lacey’s really pretty-”

“Sweetheart-”

“And you’re a single guy, you can do whatever you want. I should have never expected anything to come out from us doing, uh, y’know, that.” You groaned in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, we don’t have to talk ab-”

His hands gently caught onto the suppleness of your cheeks. “Would you please shut up?” He softly chuckled at your stunned face. “No, sorry, that was mean, I take that back.” He didn’t. Eddie Munson’s giggles were still ringing out because of your frown. “I just need you to stop talking for a second, and just listen.” You reluctantly nodded to his request. “Because I get it, you thought things would be easier if we were just, I don’t know… nonchalant about things. But, Christ, sweetheart, if you have feelings for me, whether they’re good or bad, I want to know!” He emphasized. “We’ve talked about things before, we can talk about this.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, about how many ounces I want to buy from you.”

“Hey, you’re gonna stand here and tell me our little conversations meant nothing to you?” He joked, hoping to pull a smile out of you. “Clearly they had to if I was deemed worthy enough to sleep with.” He winked.

“That was just because I like yo- I mean, no- ugh!” What a win for Freud (and Eddie), as the unconscious error revealed his tortuously shit-eating grin. But in the moment, you didn’t want his laughter. You wanted answers to your own pathetic feelings. You whined in frustration. “This stupid dress sucks!”

You lost all concerns about changing in front of him, as your angry hands worked to throw the fabric away from your body. “Hey- no, wait, c’mon, I was just teasing.” Eddie was quick to pick up the discarded dress.

“And there’s so many people in my house! Everyone’s touching everything! A-And I’m tired, and embarrassed of all this- god, and everyone is being so inconsiderate-”

“Even me.”

Your tirade came to a halt. “What? No, Eddie, I told you, it’s not your fault-”

“It is, though.” He affirmed, despite your shaking head. “I know you saw me.” Your cheeks went ablaze with heat. You knew he saw you, but hearing it had become mortifying. “And I know it wasn’t the nicest thing to see, I should’ve considered-”

You gave up in a huff. “This is stupid.”

“This isn’t stupid, okay? None of it is.”

Your head fell into the solace of your hands. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“You already did it. You just did the hard part.” His calloused fingers wrapped around your wrists. “And I’ll make it even easier by telling you that I like you back.”

You refused his words, shaking your head in retaliation. “Don’t pity me, Eddie, I-”

“Hey, look, I get you’re trying to make me tell you how you feel, but I don’t want you doing that with me.” His voice fell stern. “Hell, I don’t even want to do that with you.” You could cry from the way he chastised you. “Stop trying to find an easy out. You’re not even realizing that the simplest thing to do not find an easy way out.” Eddie rationalized. “I like you, you like me. I want to be with you, and now you tell me if you want to be with me.”

“You already know-”

“No, I don’t know.” He interjected. “I don’t want to think I know shit. You tell me.”

You gnawed at your lips raw, eyes rounding against the scariest confrontation you had to face that came in the form of a long-haired, lanky guy with an expression so goofy you wondered how you managed to take him so seriously. “I want to be with you, Eddie.” Your voice cracked. “Like, m-more than just being with you in the back of your van.”

“Christ, why would you ever let me take your virginity there?! I could have at least taken you out to dinner first!” He swore against himself with frustration, as you giggled. “I’m so sorry about that, darling.”

“No, it’s okay, I-I liked it.” You mustered the courage to be honest. “Really, it was perfect.”

Eddie Munson smiled at you. “So are you.” Accept it. “And this dress.” His eyes finally glanced down, and suddenly, “Who the hell were you planning on having sex with?” His accusatory finger circled the seductive lace of your bra and underwear; a matching set!

Back to hiding your face you went. “Don’t make me say it, I already told you I liked you.”

“Aw, babe.” For once, you could find the will to laugh along with his teasing, letting yourself enjoy a moment of his cockiness.

His arm circled around your waist, bringing you flush against his chest. If the teasing was going to continue, he, at the very least, would grant you a place to hide. “You were just coming over for the first time, I was nervous… and maybe… hopeful.” Your muffled voice squeaked against his shirt.

His guttural laugh vibrated onto you. A silence had lingered before his lips caressed the shell of your ear. “You don’t have too many clothes, sweetheart.” Whispered with gentle firmness to solidify it into your overthinking head.

You didn’t have too many feelings.

Just the right amount ones that made you perfectly you.

His fingertips slowly traced down the slope of your waist, until it came in contact with the delicate fabric of your panties. “Well, maybe you do right now.” The lace snapped against your hip.

And your giggles fizzled into the atmosphere, as you braced yourself with the confronting journey of simply just speaking. Truthfully. “Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Get these people the hell out of my house, so we can have sex.”

You were once again ambushed with the sudden bass of whatever Top 100 Hottest Hits played, as Eddie Munson jumped hurdles out of your bedroom, before you were content with the silence that followed a closed door.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I suppose blurbs are meant to be really short, but, unfortunately, I cannot shut up. Also, was it decipherable that the clothes/dress was representative of her feelings? Or should I just stop while I’m at it? Thank you, big kisses! <3

[katyawriteswhump]

fallen angel (steddie holiday drabble/bingo)

For @steddieholidaydrabbles day 15 prompt, “ornament;” @steddiebingo prompt, “candle;” @whumpcember day 15 prompt, ‘broken glass.”

WC: 988 Rating: T; CW: none. Tags: fluff, angst, established steddie, flashbacks to less happy childhoods, happy ending.  Summary: Steve and Eddie discover a sad moment in their pasts that intertwined and turned surprisingly magical in the present…

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

“We agreed we weren’t doing the c-word, Eddie.”

Steve had gotten in from a late shift at Family Video. Robin had made him eat forfeit candy every time somebody complained Die Hard wasn’t in stock. He felt kinda icky and grouchier than ever over seasonal bullshit.

“We’re not, Babe.” Eddie rummaged in a box, retrieving something that suspiciously resembled a tinselly garland—though chewed by generations of hungry mice.

Steve nearly bitched, Unless you’re gonna tie me up with that sparkly shit, please remove it before I stuff it down your throat.  Then he realized. It was THE box, which contained all Eddie had from his childhood. He kneeled at Eddie’s side, hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Mom used to wear the garland to dance at midwinter. She was a total flowerchild.” Eddie placed it back carefully. “Stevie, can I show you something? If you hate it, you never have to see it again.”

“Okay.”

Steve slid his arms around Eddie. He’d put up with most shit, if snuggles accompanied it. Eddie definitely gave off ‘need-more-snuggles’ vibes. Steve lifted Eddie’s hair, nibbling kisses beneath, while Eddie raised a crude clay ornament from the box’s depths.

An angel.

A childish painted angel, with a niche for a candle, that’d been broken and painstakingly glued back together.

Steve’s angel.

His heart gave a thunderclap then raced insanely.

“Wow… I never thought… Oh my fucking God.”

…

Twelve years ago

On the final day before winter break, the entire school was in the sports hall—supposedly doing crafts, though truthfully having a mass clay-fight.

Steve, however, liked clay modelling. Following the lead of fellow ‘non-nerd’ Chrissy—who also wanted to make rather than break something—he sat down at the ‘nerd’ table. Also following Chrissy’s lead, he began modelling an angel candle-holder.

Tommy H said only girls and weirdos made ornaments. Steve didn’t care. Even when Tommy chucked clay at him and it stuck in his hair. Even when that Munson freak came to chat with Chrissy and smirked at him.

He was making the angel for his mom, who liked everything clean, white and perfect. She’d like angels, right?

That evening, he waited till she’d stopped yelling about the clay on his clothes and in his hair. They were waiting for Steve’s babysitter, and she seemed in a good mood, so… “Mommy, I made this for you.”

She stared at it. Actually, through it. “Heavens. Is that why you ruined a brand-new sweater.”

The phone rang. Steve twitched his face, sniffed.

He was still holding out his angel like an idiot, when his mom told him the babysitter was sick. “We can’t let the Wheelers down. You’ll have to take care of yourself.”

The door closed. Steve’s face burned as if slapped. He stared at the angel—her brown splotchy eyes, her wonky pink smile. He’d not even put a candle in her. She was as idiotic and unlovable as he was.

He opened his hand and watched her smash on the parquet floor.

He ran to his room without picking up the pieces, though it’d get him in deep shit. He was burying his dumb tears in his pillow, when his worst nightmare got real—the one that always haunted him when his parents left him alone.

The crash of a breaking window.

…

Eddie’s dad called the posh folks’ party season ‘Santa’s giveaway.’ Tonight, Eddie learned why.

It was child’s-play to spot the empty houses—if the parents had left snot-nosed brats with babysitters, there’d be at least one light on. Trouble was, the locks got more sophisticated each year, forcing Al Munson to go ‘old school.’

Smash a window. Send a kid through to go open the door from inside.

There Eddie was, scrambling through, trying not to gash his knee on the broken glass. “It’s kinda Dickensian,” his pa said, “The old ways are sometimes best, son.”

Screw you, thought Eddie, skidding onto the polished floor. He tiptoed forward till his foot, and his torch-beam, struck something on the boards.

Huh?

A clay candle-holder, like Chrissy’s. But this wasn’t Chrissy’s angel. It was Harrington’s.

Eddie had never seen Harrington so serious about anything other than sport. He’d snickered, though admired the younger kid’s geek-like devotion to his art, wondering if Harrington might not always be such an a-hole.

He carefully picked up the broken pieces. It made him sad, somehow.

“Eddie,” Al hissed through letterbox. “Hurry the fuck up, kid.”

Eddie stuffed the angel in his pocket and opened the door.

…

Eddie held out the angel, watched Steve’s eyes stretch wide. Breath bating—and not actually looking like he wanted to punch Eddie—he took it.

“Oh my God,” he whispered. “The night I broke this, we got burgled! I figured it was lost in the clear-up. I mean, I was there alone, hiding under my bed. I had nightmares for…” He trailed off, hazy eyes focussing, laser-sharp, on Eddie. “How the hell did you..?”

Eddie spilled it all. He held Steve’s hand, thumb gently caressing, as they literally put the pieces together.

“I can’t believe your dad made you do that,” breathed Steve, engulfing Eddie in a clingy hug. Eddie was so relieved. The burglary was the only secret he’d kept from Steve, and Steve was sweet and cool about it. They also both understood a little more about why they were both slightly allergic to the c-word. “One thing I don’t get,” said Steve, “why did you keep it?”

“Truthfully? I wanted to model something too, but was too busy fooling around. Oh, and had nobody to give it too. Keeping it was totally crazy, apart from…” Eddie plastered a teasing, wet kiss on Steve’s lips. “Hey, all those years I thought you were a dick? Seems I was secretly carrying a candle for you after all.”

Steve’s smile spread slowly and showered starlight through Eddie’s world. “Yeah? Well, after all these years, I’ve discovered I made her for somebody I truly love.”

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

zero pressure tag: @wheneverfeasible 💚 My stranger things fic on AO3

[munsonsreputation]

WATCH THAT SCENE!

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: [2.3k]

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, mild cursing, overall fluff!!!

summary: the kids need help learning how to dance for their formal and you're their last resort, but they should've known not to count your suave boyfriend eddie out.

The sun had begun setting in the small town, the burnt twinge of orange and yellow tumbling over the sky where clouds grew drabber and the bright blue following behind. The air was the perfect kind of crisp that blew smoothly against your legs and face, easing the warmth that had developed from the hours of stretches, flips, kicks, and jumps.

All of the others girl had left the parking lot, only leaving you behind, though Chrissy was kind enough to offer you a ride, but you knew Eddie was going to there any minute. And so you beamed when his van came turning into the school zone, the music slowly being turned down as he saw you standing outside the gym already approaching his car.

“How was practice, baby?” He hailed out towards the open passenger window, smiling widely.

You rolled your eyes playfully, opening the door to toss your things into the backseat before settling into the soft velvet cushion beside him. Eddie was already jutting his chin out towards you when you giggled, holding a hand on his cheek to stabilize yourself and pressing your lips together.

He tasted like mint and cigarettes. A combination that you’d never get sick of because despite how much you hated that he smoked those cancer sticks, he always chewed a piece of gum before ever trying to go in for a kiss with you.

“I can’t wait to shower.” You groaned, combing your fingers through your oily hair when he finally started driving away from the school.

Cheer practice was always muggy and gross. Getting tossed in the air time and time again, then proceeding to touch the sweaty mats that everyone practically laid on and touched made you feel icky. It was always routine for you to get into a shower after practice and scrub the living daylights out of your skin.

Eddie looked over at you, cursing under his breath a little at his forgetfulness.

“Shit! Sorry, babe, but Henderson called—he asked if we could swing my Joyce and Hops.”

You shrugged, shaking your head not bothered by the pit-stop since it was always nice to see the kids especially since you were so busy these days.

The only time you really got to see them was if Eddie had a campaign that ran late or on weekends when Eddie was in charge of dropping them off and picking them up.

“It’s fine, as long as I get a shower in the next few hours. Did he say why?”

He shook his head, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “He sounded panicky and annoyed. A lot of voices and music in the background, though.”

“Well, panicky and annoyed, isn’t unusual?” You quipped, and he cackled, switching lanes to take the route.

“We’ll find out in a little bit.”

The Byers-Hopper living room had now been infiltrated by all the younger teens, including the older ones: Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, and Steve. The older four had been called to by Dustin, begging them to come over and show them a few dance moves that they could use for the winter formal.

But bless Dustin Henderson’s heart, because while they might have had a few proms and formals as dance experience, none of them were “experts” at dancing — or at least none met his standards.

For god's sake, even Nancy and Jonathan, who were a couple since forever, looked like a pair of stiff bodies moving back and forth when they tried to demonstrate how to dance when a slow song came on.

And you would think that someone as charming as Steve would have some sort of groove when it came to dancing, but Jesus, no, he looked even more rigid and awkward.

Don’t even get them started on Robin, who bursted out in laughter when she tried to dance with Steve but failed within the first three seconds because she had accidentally stomped on his foot thinking she was leading.

It even came to the point where they confided in Hopper and Joyce who had arrived home from work to their living room furniture pushed against the walls to make room for a makeshift dance floor. A cassette played loudly through the radio and everyone seemed to be a jumbling mess.

Well, the mess became even bigger when Hopper and Joyce tried to show them a move or two, which just ended up with everyone laughing and burying their faces in their hands at the scene. El, Will, and Jonathan cringed more so than laughed, but now they knew their parents were probably the worst dancers than themselves at than alone was a core memory.

That’s when Dustin threw in the towel and decided to make a call to his dear friend Eddie. Eddie who was about to leave his trailer to pick you up from practice so you could get home and shower, then finish the movie you two fell asleep to last night.

But nevertheless, Dustin sounded frantic and desperate, begging for him to bring you over and alas Eddie gave in.

The boy finally saw the van pull into the driveway and shot up from the couch where he had been resting, watching through the window.

“Shut the music off, Steve!” He shouted, stumbling up and towards the front door.

Everyone rose their brows, Steve following Dustin’s instruction and pausing the cassette that El had let them borrow for the day’s impromptu dance party. Before you and Eddie could even knock on the door, it was pulled open.

The scene of everyone staring at the metal head and cheerleader, quite shocking actually—more shocking than the stares in the hallways at school, which were pretty dreadful already.

You side-eyed Eddie suspiciously wondering what he had gotten you both into before looking back at Dustin.

“Hi?” you squeaked suspiciously, twiddling your hand in the air to greet everyone who waved.

The boy smirked, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you inside roughly without a second thought.

“Dustin, what the hell!” You shrieked having no choice but to move with him in order to avoid tripping over your own feet.

Eddie rolled his eyes, stepping inside and shutting the door closed.

“Henderson, you’ve got three seconds to tell me why you’re dragging my girlfriend like a rag doll.”

Dustin apologetically bowed towards Eddie, dropping your arm and gesturing to the open floor.

Everyone else was either leaning up against the wall or sitting down on the couch, trying to get some rest after the young boy practically forced them to keep dancing until they had something, but nothing was good enough for the damn twerp.

“You know how to dance, right?” Dustin stared at you, and you bounced on your heels, nodding your head slightly.

“I mean, cheerleading does require some dancing but—“

Dustin shushed you, causing you to furrow your brows, and looked around dumbfounded at the action. Steve and Robin were already shooting you sorry looks as they muttered something about his tone and needing a smack to the head.

“Henderson, just tell us why we’re here?” Eddie rubbed at his temples.

He plopped on the empty seat next to Max who looked rather peeved at being stuck there all afternoon when she could have been at the arcade playing Dig-Dug.

She turned to him, gesturing in the air with annoyed hands. “Dustin wants us to learn how to dance for this weekend’s formal.”

Lucas pipped in, looking at the crowd before settling on you. “No one knows how to dance except you.”

A small smile grew upon your face, looking around the room at the sullen faces that were offended at Lucas’ words — mostly Hopper and Joyce, because back in their day, they were pretty darn good dancers if they said so themselves.

Eddie sat up from his spot on the couch, shooting a deceitful look at Lucas while gesturing fondly to himself.

“What? You don’t think she’s the only good dancer around here do you?”

Mike grunted, mumbling under his breath, “You sure don’t look like you knew how to command a dance floor.”

Everyone seemed to agree with Mike, which was extremely rare, even for Hopper who didn’t like the kid all that much.

You crossed your arms, shaking your head at the little shitheads and more offended that they thought your boyfriend couldn't dance.

“Hey! Did you forget Eddie is in a band? He practically eats, sleeps, and breathes rhythm.” You reasoned with a tilt of your head, trying to sway them.

Everyone tried to stifle their laughter but failed terribly. I mean could you blame them?

Eddie played metal music, not that pop disco shit that would be playing at the formal, but that’s because they thought wrong about him. They all thought they had your boy all figured out as the stereotypical metal head that couldn’t dance to save his life, but you were about to make them eat their words.

Contrary to popular beliefs, Eddie was quite the dancer, and a good one at that. He knew how to keep up the pace and swoop you off your feet so smoothly you’d think he was a professional in his past life.

You shot Eddie that look, lifting your shoulders with the silent offer as he looked almost coy before nodding at you, scooting off the couch and shaking his arms off getting himself warmed up.

You glanced at Steve, pointing at the stereo, “Hit it!”

Eddie moved across the floor to you effortlessly, hands going for your hips while you draped yours over his neck — you were like magnets easily finding each other. Your feet slid back and forth, one after the other, following Eddie’s lead that flowed with the music.

“How did you guys know Eddie and I love to dance to ABBA?” You called towards your friends who watched in astonishment.

“You can dance?!” they screeched, eyes widening as they all straightened up in their seats and off the walls, watching with the utmost surprise and shock.

You began to giggle as your boyfriend spun you around into his chest, swaying you both while he placed a kiss on your cheek before spinning you back out.

“Just like the songs says, you just gotta feel the beat.” Eddie rose his brow at them, moving your hips in his hands before you shook your head at his playfulness.

“C’mon, we’ll show you.” You told them, pushing at his chest so that you could skip on over towards Dustin, pulling him to the center of the living room with you.

Eddie went for Max, tilting his head for her to follow his lead and not be so nervous.

“It’s really all about keeping the pace and the beat.” He instructed, looking down at their shoes and Max did her best to not step on his sneakers that were already pretty beat up.

“And loosen up,” you chided, nudging Dustin a bit, “relax those shoulders and move those hips.” You instructed, showing him to roll his shoulders back and swirl his lower body as if he was hula-hooping.

After a while, they started to get the hang of it, easily moving across the floors without stepping on each other’s feet and not being so tense.

“Great, now you two try!” You nodded, handing off Dustin towards Max.

It was awkward at first, the both of them laughing as they didn’t know where to put their hands, but quickly it became natural with what you and Eddie had taught, the basics of keeping up with the rhythm and singing along.

You huffed with hands on your hips, looking around the room for your next student, while Eddie had already grabbed Joyce who was a giggly mess.

“C’mon Mr. Hips, I know they don’t call you king Steve for nothing.” You teased, tiptoeing towards your friend and pulling him along with you.

Before you knew it, the living room was a lively dance floor. Bodies grooving along to music without even second guessing if they were doing it right and just having fun with each other as they sung and tried not to bump into the pair beside them.

“Maybe we should open up a studio and start teaching some classes?” You suggested with a grin, resting your chin on Eddie’s chest, staring up at him.

He chucked, pecking at your nose sweetly, “Don’t get ahead of yourself babe, you know my dancing services are limited to you. This was just a special occasion.”

“Do you have any other talents you want to reveal?” Dustin nudged him with his elbow, prompting Eddie to smirk toward him before looking back at you.

“I can do a pretty gnarly lift, exactly like that one in Dirty Dancing.” He bragged, still pretty surprised at himself that he was able to pull it off.

The girls in the room gasped, including Steve, “No way!”

“Yes way,” You bit your lip with a giggle, remembering that one afternoon you and Eddie had spent together trying to get it down after you had watched the movie.

Steve dropped Robin’s hand, wandering over to the stereo and pausing the track before picking it up by the handle and walking towards the front door. Everyone stared at him, waiting until he sighed, one hand on his hip as he looked at you and Eddie.

“You guys need more room than this. We’re moving outside and that lift better be top tier.” He warned towards Eddie, walking out the front door as everyone else followed his lead.

You and Eddie laughed at how ridiculous it all was — surely none of the kids were going to attempt to pull off a lift in the middle of their formal dance, but it was sure gonna be funny watching everyone else have their try at it.

Eddie hoisted you up, prompting you to laugh into the crook of neck, “C’mon baby, I’m about to blow their socks off.” He said, kissing your cheek with an obnoxiously loud smooch before carrying you out the door.

So maybe you didn’t get to go home and get that shower or finish that movie as soon as you would have liked to, but you sure did get to dance that afternoon away with the love of your life and that in itself was a win.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: i have been neglecting my beloved eddie for far too long and this has been sitting in my drafts since forever so here ya go!!! yes eddie is a dancer and that is not up for debate -- yeah my man loves his metal music, but the second he hears a good pop tune he's pulling his gf up and they're dancing like no one is watching.

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[pollenallergie]

Eddie Munson, but you drank all of his Caprisuns, so now he’s hunting you for sport, à la The Most Dangerous Game, except, when he finds you (and he will find you, he spent the majority of his formative years exploring the woods of Hawkins), he’s not gonna eat you… No, that’s, in his words, “icky.” Instead, he’s gonna give you the most mind-shattering orgasm right there in the woods, and then, when you’re coming down from your high, all distracted and trying to catch your breath, he’s gonna steal some money out of your wallet so that he can go buy himself some more Caprisuns.

[zaynsxsoul]

Honey sunbathed summer | Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: sleepy summer afternoon at the trailer park, ice cream debates, and sloppy kisses with Eddie ♡

warnings: 1k words, fluff, curse words, established relationship, play fighting, teasing, just a short cozy summer drabble

my masterlist

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The heated rejoicing colors of purple, blue and coral red, light brightly the dozy sunday skies of Forest Hills Trailer park. The flushed summer sunset rises the glossy evening, which is only around two hours away until the moon begins its hike within the stars.

The four p.m. afternoon has a certain magical aura to it. The one when simpleness turns into mere worthy admiration. The start of summer at Hawkins usually has that effect.

Right in front of the limit that crosses the division between the quiet forest and the trailer park, lies a kiddy pool that’s being more than enjoyed by children whose voices reflect the excitement of the simpleness that water gives at any age.

A racing water slip slide is set right across Eddie’s trailer too. A hose sends the right amount of water and soap ratio for it to be slippery enough for the nine year olds who play some sort of made up secret coded game that only they understand. The watermist kisses the tip of your nose from time to time.

The thought of summer accompanied by fudgy banana splits, water, the smoky whiff of a deliciously glazed barbecue aroma coming from nearby, forest tree leaves transporting the warm heat, and the essence of freshly mowed lawn that vaporizes the smell of wet dirt and grass, never fails to spike a shot of serotonin.

And within the immortalized echo of the melody produced by the bustle from the neighbors, wind chimes, the evening honey whiff, water splashes and cicadas, your laughter fades into that chorus among Eddie’s voice.

Because although outside on his porch the heat is still unbearable, skin being sticky under your two piece playsuit, and every texture feeling fuzzy and icky, that doesn’t even come close to ruining spending time with him.

The smell of your coconut scented sunscreen feels like summer itself. Even more when you had applied it, –or more like bathed— Eddie’s reluctant scrunched face in it as well.

And how couldn’t you? after the awful experience of his almost burnt to shrimp-skin the other day at the pool. But as impossible as it seems, even with gooey sunscreen that draws a line from his cheeks and down his nose, he looks radiant, sitting just a few inches away from you.

With hair pulled back and a low pony from which some reluctant little hairs fall, he smiles. It’s hard not to think about how enchantingly adorable he is with that hairstyle. As adorable as you’d love to squish his little face and make him turn love sick out of kisses.

His torso is covered by a very thin black fabric shirt. Your bare leg brushes from time to time with his knee. And you can swear that his warmth adds even more heat to the afternoon. A certain type of heat that you probably don’t mind feeling.

He himself is in awe at the beautifully deified sight of your cheeks, plum red and glossy, at the way your legs sit crossed in front of his and move sporadically, how your shoulders shine and bathe golden under the toasty sun. And he can’t help but adore the way your eyebrows furrow, concentrating on the deck of twenty plus cards that you hold right below your face.

“You’ve had the worst luck today” He mocks. The cheshire cat-like grin teasing ever more when you’re taking your sweet time to pick a card.

“I can’t let you win again.” You pout, arms falling down as if you were mid-surrender. “It means you’d win over my Candy Center Crunch!” He chuckles boyishly, and you react with a mixture between an eye roll and a grin when you understand the reason why. “You’re being dirty”

“Funny Feet would be better though” The sight of his spread abdomen, glimmering with water and sweat when he leans back being supported by his hands is surely divine.

“Eddie! God, that sounds even worse” He can’t help but smile stupidly at the sight of your nose scrunch. “Do I honestly have to not just bear with you stealing my ice cream but also underestimating it for a Funny Feet popsicle?”

“Uh tut-tut, not stealing, winning, snippy” He reprimands playfully.

“Who even likes funny feet? I’d only let you undermine center crunch over a snoopy ice pop or choco taco”

“What?” And he sounds crushed. Like if you had said the most insultingly revolting thing ever. “The snoopy ice pop sucks, babe” He states mid chuckle. “It’s just fake marshmallow. Fuck, it’s not even an ice pop”

“It is an ice pop!”

“If there’s no fruit or water is not an ice pop” He states.“you only like it because it’s a dog” You shrug, playfully ticked.

“It’s not any dog, Eddie, it’s Snoopy” He pinches the doughy soft flesh of your thigh gently after the correction.

“Either way, I won”

By laying his last remaining card on the main deck, his victory is endured. Cheerful hands shake your shoulders back and forth in a celebratory motion until the palms also drum your legs gently.

And you still can't believe that he is walking over to the kitchen and taking your beloved crunchy ice cream out of the fridge, much less how he is mocking you by showing it and smiling like a child from where he stands.

“Fuck, this is so good”

Your eye almost twitches when he plops on the couch, and it doesn’t take more than a few seconds for you to follow and sit beside him. The coldness of the tin-like material is dripping water.

You’re staring deeply.

With the corner of his eye and a smile evoked from the edge of his lips, he looks at you in amusement while fidgeting with the crinkly bag. As if seeing you like this was the funniest thing he’d ever experienced.

And in the back of his mind, when the ice cream is already out of the wrapper, he actually feels bad by just the sight of the way your eyes reflect those of a puppy imploring for food.

“Here” He hands it over, although you don’t take it yet. “You can see it”

“Stop it!” His burlesque snort that mocks your plea turns into a gasp when you push his own hand when he leans for a bite.

The taste of revenge is sweet. Quite literally.

The expression on your face changes to a splendid smile, observing his vainilla covered cheek and reminiscing the way it landed there because of you.

“Give me a bite” You pout. mouth watering at the sight of his lips and teeth sinking into it

He nods. Unbothered by the cream that drips from his face. You wish you could seem more stern, but when he’s leaning near your face making a growling lion sound ready to bite into your cheek, It’s absurdly impossible to not break down to giggles.

“You know what I mean, Eds”

“No! you bet on this, you little cheater. Plus, look at what you just did” His finger points at his distressed cheek, as if you hadn’t noticed yet.

“I can fix that”

Your hand presses onto his thigh while scooting over. The tip of your tongue licks expertly the trace of the sweet chocolate iridescence that drips from his lip, right where the vainilla drop slides. His skin is soft against your tongue.

From the proximity he can feel the scent of your perfume, the reminiscences of wildflower shampoo mixed in with sunscreen, pool chlorine and your own aroma. It’s a bewilderment that makes him shiver even inside of the heat box that his trailer is.

And when your face leans a little closer, his own gesture drops once you’re swiftly biting into the ice cream very slightly. A cold bit of the peanut covered chocolate crust falls to his leg, instantly melting over his warmth.

“Stop it” He laughs. “Thief” But it’s pointless to make a fuss out of it when he has already surrendered.

“Whoops, sorry” You say, the tip of your tongue licking the trace of the chocolate on his leg. And shortly after, the trace that melts down his fingers and knuckles.

“You can’t do that” You raise your eyebrows innocently. “This! with the cute little face and big eyes.”

“Why not? Always seems to work” The silence of the stare is gratifying, and when he grins it feels like he’s trying to say ‘it really fucking does’.

“You know? It’s real sad you stole from me, cause’ I had something else for ya’”

With a covered face behind rebel brown locks of hair that escaped the pony, he looks over his shoulder and seems to stretch to grab something. Sparks rise when he’s pulling out a beautiful snoopy ice pop that crinkles like the sound of heavenly chants.

“You got it for me?” When your smile turns into a dazzling glare, and your eyes shoot flickering stars, he yearns for the magnificent instant to last a little longer.

“Of course I did, I said I despise the snoopy fake ice pop, or ice cream or whatever, but shit, how I love that smile of yours when you see it.”

Moved by burning excitement, your hand moves to grab it, but when he pulls it away, your face naturally lands near his. So taking advantage of the situation, the skin of your cheek purposely but flawlessly rests on his jaw.

“Not so fast. What am I getting in return?” The magical sound of his question ardently stirs the butterflies on your lower belly.

“A bite out of it?”

When his mouth puckers expectantly, the sweetness of your kiss mends the itch of his expecting lips. The chocolate taste that lingers on him is heavenly, dipped proudly, praising the feeling. Your mouth is cold from the ice cream. His is colder.

It’s gooey, and messy, and sticky. And that’s what makes it so special.

When you pull away, a love sick smile welcomes you back from the celestial trip. And with nothing more to say other than thinking ‘well deserved’, he hands over the ice pop.

“Thank you, Teddie” You coo, pulling the bag away to reveal snoopy’s cheeky smile.

He might adore the proximity of the defining moment once you sit on his lap more than anything else. The dear moment pains and soothes his heart in the most beautiful ways.

“You’re welcome, ice pop” His giggles come out like a mewl.

From honey sunbathed shoulders, Eddie pulls you in closer to his chest. Serenity steps into the moment when his jawline bobs with each bite lolling you towards tranquility, when his arms hug you close, when his proximity is intimately tender. And although you’re both sticky and sweaty, it couldn’t be more insignificant right about now.

The sun is finally fading. And the sky prepares to welcome the night, which you hope comes with faith of a cooler breeze. through the open front door and blowing curtains, you admire with heavy eyelids the way the golden evening glimmers his skin.

And when the warmth of his embrace makes you dizzy, the taste of vanilla takes a trip down your taste buds, and laughter and the conversations from not so far away make your heart swole, you think there’s nowhere in this world you’d aspire more to be, than here.

Because when summer makes it’s glorious entrance, it means afternoons being spent just like this in Eddie’s company. Which always makes it all better.

Even better than Snoopy Ice creams, Crunch Center, and Choco Tacos all merged into one.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[hardboiledleggs]

Not Sterile, a quick Steddie ficlet

(Tw for blood and mentions of bad injuries, nothing too icky though)

The Harrington’s house looms above a head of dark, curly hair. Eddie jumps, cursing as a bolt of lightning streaks across the sky. He isn’t sure why he feels so jumpy, but something about the house and Buckley’s harried phone call had put him on edge. It isn’t like he’s never been to the house before; every party needs a good dealer. He had just never been without a crowd of drunk teens canoodling the lawn.

He raps his knuckles smartly against the door and steps back, rubbing his foot against the back of his calf and nibbling on the inside of his cheek. The door swings open, and Robin Buckley is silhouetted in the frame, her appearance punctuated by a clap of thunder.

“Hurry, hurry,” she hisses, grasping his wrist and tugging him across the threshold. Her hands are wet, and Eddie gasps as she releases him, revealing the bright red handprint she had left on his arm.

“Jesus, Buckley, is that blood? What the hell are you–“

He’s cut off by a horrible groan. Robin turns away from him and hurries into the house, waving him after her without looking at him. Eddie follows her, trying to ignore the sudden lurching in his stomach. He steps into the spotless kitchen, squinting his eyes against all the white of the counters and the cabinets, and comes to an abrupt halt at the coppery tang that clouds the air. Another piteous moan splits the silence, and Eddie revolves slowly, desperate not to look but unable to keep his eyes away.

The scene before him is gruesome. Buckley kneels on the floor next to a mostly white couch. Mostly white, because there is a steady pool of blood flowing from the body lying atop it. The man on the couch lets out a grunt of pain as Robin laces their fingers together, whispering into his ear and smoothing bronze tufts of blood-soaked hair from his face. Eddie can feel his heart beating in his throat, and he breathes deeply through his mouth as the room begins to spin. He knows that hair.

“What did you bring, Munson? I need something that isn’t a blood thinner, and I need a lot of it.” Buckley doesn’t look at him as he speaks. Eddie shakes his head, trying to kickstart his brain again.

“W-why aren’t you at a hospital, Buckley? We need to call an ambulance, right now!” He’s swaying on his feet. “I don’t have d-drugs for THIS! He needs doctors!”

She looks at Steve Harrington’s bloody form, gnawing at her bottom lip. There is a fire in her eyes that Eddie has never seen. They’ve never been friends, per se, but he has dealt to all the band kids at one point or another, and he’s never seen her look anything but cheerful. The expression on her face right now promises hellfire and destruction.

“We can’t go to a doctor for this. I need help, and you’re it. Just tell me what you brought before I kick your teeth in and take it from you!”

Eddie fumbles in his pockets, yanking out a plastic baggy with shaking fingers. He sinks to his knees, still fighting the dizziness, and tosses the bag to Buckley. His eyes are locked onto the pool of blood that is still creeping along the floor.

“What the hell happened to him?” he whispers. He pulls himself unwillingly across the floor to kneel beside Buckley as she rifles through the bag of pills.

“Do you really want to know?” she murmurs, still not looking at him. “Once I tell you, you’re in this just as much as we are. You can take what I owe you from my bag over there and leave if you want to stay in the dark. Your choice.”

Eddie swallows down the terror that her words evoke. There is something in the air here, like an otherworldly film has settled over his senses. Every breath settles low in his chest like he is filling his lungs with stone. Despite the fear prickling at the base of his spine, his curiosity wins out.

“Tell me.”

Buckley meets his eye, ice blue and chocolate brown meeting in a deadly dance. She nods.

“Fine, I’ll talk while we work. I’ll grab some water, and I need you to figure out how much of this shit we can give him without it being dangerous.”

By the time she kneels down beside him again with a pristine glass of water, Eddie has measured out several hundred milligrams of hydrocodone and lined them up on the arm of the couch. Harrington’s eyelids flutter against the bruises on his cheekbones.

“Hi, Stevie. You ready to take some medicine for me? Can you sit up a little so you can swallow?” Robin’s voice is gentle as she settles herself behind Harrington’s head.

Eddie’s hands flutter uselessly against his knees and she carefully shifts to rest the other man’s head against her thigh. He grabs the glass and shuffles forward until he’s pressed against the couch.

“I measured out enough to send him to Cloud 9 for several hours, but you’ll have to watch him really carefully. I really doubt he’s a habitual pill popper and I’m not sure how he’ll react,” Eddie murmurs. Buckley places a few of the pills on Harrington’s tongue, and Eddie lifts the glass to his blood-spattered lips. When they’ve finished, the man collapses back against the couch with a groan.

“You’m get it out, Robs. Hurrss,” Harrington slurs. His eyes are closed, and his fingers twitch feebly where they’re resting against his chest.

“I will, honey. Just give the medicine some time to work,” Buckley chokes out as she blots at the tears on her cheeks.

Eddie ducks his head, feeling like an intruder into such a pure moment of love and devotion. Harrington sighs, curling in on himself.

Still smoothing the hair from his forehead, Robin turns to Eddie.

“Alright, Munson. You know how weird shit goes down in Hawkins, like, constantly? Well, turns out it’s because the government has been doing super unethical experiments at the Hawkins Lab, and they sorta opened a portal into a demon dimension a few years ago.” She looks at him out of the corner of her eye. “With me so far?”

“Government sucks and opens an interdimensional portal. Chaos ensues,” Eddie intones, fighting back a rising surge of panic.

“Right. Steve here has been helping to fight the bad shit every time it pops up in Hawkins again. This time, it was a giant mind-control monster made out of liquified humans.” She wrinkled her nose. “When we were fighting it, Steve got clawed or bit or some shit, and now we have to get the monster bits inside of him out. We can’t go to the hospital, because it’s going to be really hard to explain why he needs surgery on a wiggly bit of monster flesh in his stomach.”

Eddie cringes away from Harrington’s abdomen. “There’s something alive in there?!”

“It’s probably not alive anymore, but I still need to get it out. Will you help me?”

He shudders. His stomach is roiling, turning over and over and threatening to spill his guts all over the already ruined carpet.

“Help you how? I can’t, I mean, I don’t like blood and flesh and–“ Eddie stops before he pukes. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I just need you to help me hold him down. Even with the pills, this is going to hurt like hell and I can’t have him thrashing around while I’m trying to dig it out. Will you help me, Eddie?” Buckley’s eyes are hard chips of flint in her face.

“I can try, but I…” he trails off. “Are you sure he can’t go to a hospital?”

“I’m sure. Come on, switch places with me. You’re going to have to keep his torso as still as possible, okay?” she says. Eddie nods numbly as he sinks into the couch cushion she had vacated. He’s never touched Steve Harrington before, and his hands tremble as he presses his fingers against the other man’s shoulders. Harrington lets out a small sound of complaint, but some of the pain seems to have been leached from his system.

“He tried to do this himself at first, you know? That’s why it looks so bad. He didn’t want to tell anyone anything was wrong, wanted to take care of it himself. Idiot.” Buckley looks fond and exasperated in equal measure. “Are you ready?”

She’s holding a small knife in one hand and a pair of tweezers in the other. A chill worms its way up his spine, but he tightens his hands over Harrington’s shoulders.

“Make it quick, Buckley. I don’t want to blow chunks over the sterile surgical area.”

She chokes on an unwilling laugh. “Alright, Steve. Are you ready?”

Harrington nods his head dazedly. His fingers fumble against Eddie’s wrist, locking his fingers against Eddie’s. His heart skips a beat, and he tightens his grip around Steve’s frozen fingers.

Robin grits her teeth. She shoves Steve’s shirt up past his ribs, exposing an ugly, festering gash that oozes and pulses with red. Eddie closes his eyes as she lowers the knife. Steve screams.

~~~

Eddie slumps against the ugly plaid wall of Steve Harrington’s bedroom, swearing.

“We didn’t pop a stitch, did we?” he wheezes.

Buckley’s hands flutter over the stark-white cotton bandages they had hastily wrapped around the clumsily-stitched wound.

“No, I think it held. I told you I like embroidery.”

“So not the same, but whatever,” Eddie pants.

“I need to shower and change. Do you mind sitting with him, just for a bit? Then you can leave and I won’t stop you, I swear.”

Eddie waves her toward the door. “I’m in too deep now, Birdie. I’ll watch him, go on.” The exhaustion creasing her features is clear.

He drags the rickety wooden chair from the desk over to the side of the bed and pulls up Harrington’s shirt, checking that the bandages are still in place. The man lets out a small protest as Eddie’s slender fingers dance over the stretch of bandaged flesh that Robin had sliced open.

“Hey, you with me, Harrington?” Eddie murmurs softly.

Steve’s eyes flutter open, dazed. His brow wrinkles as his gaze lands on Eddie.

“What’re you doin’ here, Munson? Robbie is…” he trails off with a wince.

“Buckley’s showering off the monster goop. You know, you seem much cooler now that I know you hunt eldritch horrors beyond my comprehension in your spare time,” Eddie grins weakly, searching for his famous Munson bravado. “I will admit, though, it kinda goes against my personal Munson Doctrine to admit you might actually be a pretty good dude. Fabulous hair and a selfless superhero? Some people really get all the luck.”

The aforementioned superhero frowns again. “She told you? Tha’s dangerous. Government might be… mad.”

“I won’t tell anybody. Do you really think Hawkins’ resident dealer is buddies with “Just Say No” Reagan?” Eddie snorts.

“Still dangerous.” Another sigh. “Why’re you here?”

“I supplied the illicit drugs for your super sterile living room surgery and was too much of a chickenshit to leave without knowing if I accidentally killed you with an overdose,” he shrugs. “Now I’m in your secret monster club, according to Birdie.”

Harrington’s eyes were already slipping shut again. His hand fumbles clumsily across the sheets until it finds Eddie’s wrist.

“Stay? Don’t want… alone.”

He hesitates for only a moment as something stirs in his chest. “Sure thing, princess. I’ll stay.”

Steve’s lips split into a dreamy smile before he slips back into unconsciousness.

~~~

Ah I do love to write these two :) Might continue this if I get any more brain wiggles about it. As always, I have a permanent tag list for all things Steddie I write that you can be added to if you would like, just let me know. Also, if you're sick of my tags, also let me know no hard feelings :) Smooches my friends

Tag list: @brassreign @inmoonywetrust @kyoxyukiforever @spectrum-spectre @vampireinthesun @luna-munson83 @awkwardgravity1 @obsessivlyme @piningapple @steddieassheg0es @gay-stranger-things @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @sunflowers-and-knives @original-cypher 

[thornsnvultures]

guts || eddie munson x plus size!fem!reader

summary: who knew carving pumpkins was this messy?, 530 w

cw: a lot of use of the word guts and wad, a pumpkin massacre, adorable fluff, ticklish eddie and illusions to spanking at the end

-----

"Don't you dare," Eddie holds his hands up in front of him. His face says "don't try me" but his eyes glint with mischief. You know you'll get it if you throw this wad of pumpkin guts at him, but you're too tempted not too.

The wad lands with a splat on his shoulder, missing his face by a hair. But not missing his hair at all. In fact a good chunk of it is now dripping from his curls, down the front of his shirt.

Your hands fly up to your face, hiding your gasp and your smile as you try not to laugh. Eddie closes his eyes and opens them again, taking a slow deep breath as he flings off some of the pumpkin from his shoulder.

"Oh, it's on."

Eddie lunges for your open pumpkin scooping out a much bigger chunk than you and flinging it. It hits your back as you squeal and turn away, scrambling for your pumpkin so he can't grab any more guts.

"C'mere, sweetheart. I missed a spot!"

You shriek as Eddie tackles you from behind, not hard enough to knock you over but enough that you lose your balance, your hands slipping around the pumpkin. His long arms reach around you and grab it and another wad of pumpkin.

"No!" You wail as Eddie smears the front of your shirt with pumpkin.

You rip the pumpkin back into your arms and turn away from Eddie, lobbing another chunk at him, landing with a smack on his tummy.

"Ooh, you're in for it now baby."

Eddie swipes the pumpkin off his stomach and smears your face with the cold gunk before you can pull away.

The two of you are a laughing, screaming mess on the floor by the time you run out of guts to throw. Eddie's smile is huge, surely matching yours, your faces covered in orange and seeds.

"Wayne's gonna kill me for getting pumpkin on the carpet."

"Just tell him it was my fault."

"It was your fault!" Eddie laughs, pushing your smiling face away. "Your right though. Wayne never gets mad at you. Your his favorite."

"You're my favorite," you smile as you boop his nose.

"Ugh, I'm already covered in goop, stop being gross," Eddie teases but pulls you into his sticky arms anyway. "You're my favorite too."

Your fingers tickle Eddie's side where his shirt's ridden up. It feels good laying here in his arms but you're starting to feel way too icky.

"I think we need to take a shower," you sigh, tracing Eddie's belly button and watching him squirm.

"Mmm, s-stop," he wiggles away from your nails scratching at the hair on his belly. "Too ticklish."

"Oh? I had no idea," you giggle, sarcasm dripping from your voice, your fingers following as he tries to pull away.

"You're such a menace!" Eddie huffs, slapping your hands away. He gets up, trying not to slip on pumpkin as he pulls you up with him. "Let's go and hose you down, princess," Eddie says, pulling you towards the bathroom. "Get you nice and clean before I put you over my knee for making such a big mess."

[enam3l]

A/N: another little rockstar eddie blurb because i am in my feels. reader is coded as having textured hair because that’s what i have and i gotta read all these straight hair fics constantly !!! also if the title made you laugh ily

There are lots of things Eddie Munson never thought he’d be known as. A rockstar, a husband, a soulmate, a father, an icon… however he did manage to become all of those. One thing he never imagined he’d be known as was your personal hairdresser.

For Eddie, one of his favourite consistent parts of his day was watching you do your hair. Something about the ritualistic movements soothed him.

The way your eyebrows would furrow as you waited to see an outcome. How you’d hold bobbles and hairpins between your pretty lips and if he were to make you laugh, causing you to drop them, he’d be scolded. The scents of each product you applied, a fresh layer he knew he could inhale throughout the day when he’d press his head to yours.

Wash day was even more glorious, a much longer, careful process he could get lost in. Eddie had never had this pleasure of watching girls get ready. No sisters or live-in girlfriends before, no mom to watch and admire. So he was taken by the novelty of observing once you began to stay with each other for extended periods of time.

At first Eddie had found himself standing awkwardly beside your vanity, peering at your process. That didn’t last long.

‘Quit it, Eds!’ You’d told him, ‘it’s putting me off! It feels like you’re a dog wanting to be fed or something.’

So eventually, he fell into the routine of flopping on the bed and propping himself up so he good get a good view. Eddie liked the way your hair moved as a brush raked through. He liked your huff of annoyance when you hit a tangle. He liked the wrinkle of your nose as you doused yourself in hairspray. He liked the way you’d wiggle your arms like jello after holding the hairdryer for too long.

The best times were when you’d be going out and decide to pin your hair or add accessories. It was then that Eddie understood the tendencies of magpies. He loved the way a slide would glitter in your hair, how throughout the day it would catch the light.

Naturally, Eddie’s subconscious absorbed all these secrets to your hair. Gradually learning what each product did, how every appliance worked, the way any style was created. And eventually, he was able to wield this secret knowledge when you became indisposed.

A week you had found yourself with a case of the blues. Not feeling quite yourself. Only wanting to be curled up under the duvet or in his arms. Unimpressed with even food and tv. Then you felt worse as the week progressed, fretting over feeling ‘icky’ as you’d so adorably put it. Eddie couldn’t deny, you had started to smell, but you were his little smell.

‘I could do it,’ Eddie mumbled. You looked up and blinked in confusion.

‘I could wash your hair for you…’

Oh, your sweet, sweet boy.

‘Thank you baby,’ you hummed, ‘but then I’d have to dry it properly or it’ll go all tangly and… I just don’t feel like it.’

His finger twirled a rogue strand - well, it had gotten to the stage where they were all rogue strands.

‘No, I know. I can do that! I know your routine by heart, sweetheart. I promise.’

And you were too tired and too sick of that sticky haired feeling to protest. Eddie laid you back gently in the bath and went through every step of your wash. His tongue poked out in concentration as he tried to master the towel hair wrap which managed to elicit a giggle from you. Then he sat you down at your vanity and looked over what he was working with.

‘Welcome to Munson Salon, madam,’ he grinned, ‘May I say you’re the most beautiful model I’ve ever had the pleasure of styling. What would you like today?’

Despite the lingering nerves your boyfriend may incinerate your hair, Eddie’s silliness managed to slightly clear the dark cloud that had been lingering over you all week. A blow dry? A silk press or au natural? Those cute plaits you sometimes do that left your hair all wavy? He was confident in every process. His heart warmed seeing you crack a small smile.

‘Whatever you feel like doing, Eds. I don’t mind,’ you shrug.

Eddie rakes his fingers through your damp strands.

‘S’my favourite when it’s natural,’ he mumbles as if embarrassed.

You lean back into his touch, the only thing that had felt comforting the entire week. Instinctively he knew the order of each product,

‘Liquids, cream, oil,’ you notice him mouth to himself. Taking the care he usually reserved for fixing up his precious guitars. Then, he wielded the diffuser with expertise. As if he was playing as an expert swordsman whose sword was in fact a hairdryer.

Once the process was complete, Eddie took great pride in spinning you around for a big reveal. As if you were in one of those goofy makeover shows and you hadn’t just watched the whole thing.

‘Thank you baby,’ you smiled. Your first genuine one in days, ‘it’s perfect.’

‘Y’think? You gonna make me do it every time now?’

‘Maybe,’ you teased. Pulling your love’s arms down around your shoulders and kissing his hands.

It became clear Eddie’s question was more of a wish than a query. Offering eagerly every time you were going out or about to wash. Multiple times you were persuaded into gentle afternoons, both of you in the bath as he carefully sudsed your locks. More of an indulgence for him than anything but it made you melt, the shocking tenderness your larger than life, rocker boyfriend possessed when it came to you.

The press went wild after an event you attended where you’d mentioned offhand that Eddie had done your hair. Magazines swooning more than ever over your perfect man. It made him roll his eyes.

‘I just like looking after you,’ he tutted as he glanced over the headline, ‘you’re mine to take of.’

That gentle desire to care applied as you had your daughters. Eddie’s heart swelling that each girl came into the world with an extraordinary head of hair not unlike their father’s. Tears were shed at all three first haircuts which he had delayed for as long as possible.

‘They can’t cut them, sweetheart. We made those curls!’ He’d plead with a pout.

To Eddie’s delight, as they got a little older and their hair became longer, so came the opening of Daddy’s Salon. Lining up his tiny clients after bath time or in the morning and fixing their hair.

School mornings were spent placing each girl at the vanity he’d watched you get ready at a thousand times over. Letting their tiny hands peruse the hoard of clips, bows and bobbles he’d accumulated. Their little cheeks dimpled just like Eddie’s as they grinned at Daddy doing their hair. Rarely flinching or sniffing at any tugs due to his tender touch.

Still, it was always your hair Eddie loved to play with the most. Doing it felt like offering you back a fraction of the care you gave him. It was a constant in his life, something he could always feel before seeing. A reminder every morning as it tickled Eddie’s skin that you were still by his side.

my taglist angels: @whoahoney @lukewearingbeanies @esme-viridian @elysian-chaos s @munsonology @mseddiemunson @kreepja @midnightsgetawaycar @luvrsbian

[i-hate-people-1]

It touched me!

You and the gang spend Labor Day at lovers lake things don’t go as expected.

Lowkey fixit Eddie is very much alive and they kicked Vecnas ass!

Warnings~anxiety attack

Words~2k

Not my gif

It was Labor Weekend, and you and the gang had decided to spend the day at Lover's Lake, much to Eddie's chagrin.

 

"I don’t know if you guys know this, but I’m not really made to go to the lake," Eddie whined as you guys were unloading his van and Steve’s car of your supplies. "It’s hot and the water is icky!” He exclaimed

 

"If you’re hot, just take your shirt off," Dustin told the boy, shrugging.

 

"Are you messing with me, Henderson? Eddie questioned, pausing to motion to his body, "Have you seen me? My skin is not equipped to handle the sun. I look like a ghost and a vampire had a baby."

 

"Sunscreen dumbass," Steve said, rolling his eyes.

 

“Yeah, I put sunscreen on you before we left. I can reapply some if you want," you told him, rubbing his back soothingly and trying to calm him down.

 

"That’s very sweet, baby, and I appreciate it so much, but we could always just pack up and go home. I’ll let you rub whatever you want on me as soon as we’re back safe inside." Eddie pleaded with you as you laughed at his antics.

 

“Ew, shut up, Munson," Robin told him, filling his arms with stuff to carry to your spot. He grumbled, still complaining to himself as he walked away.

 

"Any chance he actually shuts up?” Robin asked you, shaking her head as you two grabbed the last of your stuff.

 

"Eddie? Never," you answered the girl laughing as you walked to the spot the kids had picked out, all already in the water splashing around. Dustin and Steve were the closest to the shoreline, trying to talk a stubborn Eddie into getting in the water.

 

“Nuh uh nope no way," your boyfriend said, shaking his head, arms crossed over his chest. "That water is icky, and there’s like a ton of fish in there, and where there’s fish, there’s fish pee, not to mention the dead bodies that could be in there, and do you guys remember when we found that creepy ass gate at the bottom that led into the upside-down? Eddie finished flailing his arms around as he shouted.

 

“Look, dude, if we stopped going to every place we saw something related to the upside down, we’d literally never go anywhere in Hawkins ever," Steve said, laughing at the boy.

 

"Eddie I promise you everything is okay. Just come in, please." Dustin begged

 

“Eddie, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’m going, and I’m sure if you do, you’ll have fun," you told him, coming up to stand beside him as Robin ran past you both jumping and tackling Steve into the water.

 

"My hair!!!" The boy shouted as he popped his head back up from under the water to find Robin and Dustin laughing hysterically. "You’re both dead!" he shouted, running after his friends.

 

“See, it’s fun," you told him, moving in front of him, arms wrapping around his neck. His hands rested on your waist as you leaned in to kiss him gently.

 

“Ugh, this is so not fair; you know how hard it is to say no to you," he said as you pulled away, "especially when you’re in that skimpy little bathing suit."

 

"Tell you what you get in the water and have fun with us, and I promise I’ll make it worth your while later." You raised your eyebrows and smirked at him.

 

Clearly, your proposition worked, as the boy's face lit up like a Christmas tree: "Come on, baby, what are you doing? Let's get in this filthy cesspool!” He told you to run into the lake, slapping your ass as he passed you.

 

You just laughed, joining him and your friends in the water.

 

Eddie had only been in the water for maybe twenty minutes, clinging to you like a monkey for most of it as he got freaked out anytime a fish swam past him or grazed his leg. He had just let go of you when another fish swam by.

 

"It touched me, it touched me, ew ew ew ew!” Eddie shouted panicking as he wrapped his arms and legs around you. Once more, his eyes squeezed shut as he clung to you tightly.

 

“Eddie, sweetheart, it’s just a fish," you told him, gently squeezing his hand to offer him any assurance you could.

 

“Yeah, Munson, calm down." Steve laughed as you glared at him. "Shut it, Harrington," you told him sternly. He just put his hands up, backing away to join the kids.

 

"Do you want to get out? You asked him

 

“No, I mean yes, but I don’t want to make you get out," he whispered, eyes still shut tightly, head resting on your shoulder from behind.

 

"Don’t worry about it, I’ve gotta make lunch. Come on, you can help me," you told him. He just nodded, letting you go as he started out of the water towards the stuff. You followed after him, stopping when you got to the shore. You turned around, asking everyone if they were hungry. They all nodded.

 

You and Eddie made everyone sandwiches. You had spent so much time with these guys that you knew exactly how they liked them.

 

Eddie was quiet as you made them, which was unlike him, but you just chalked it up to him still being uncomfortable about being In the water, after you finished, you called everyone up to eat.

 

"What’s on the menu?” Robin asked, popping her head beside Eddie's.

 

"What Buckley, it’s obviously sandw-“ Eddie started, but was cut off when Steve popped his head on the other side of Eddie.

 

"Let’s hope it’s not fish. Munson might have a heart attack," Steve said. All the gang started laughing as Eddie rolled his eyes.

 

"Ha ha, very funny," he said sarcastically, pushing the pair away from him.

 

"Leave him alone," you scolded. They pouted, taking a seat and eating the lunch you had made them.

 

After y’all finished eating, you and Eddie cleaned up while your friends went and played in the water. After you finished, you took a seat next to the boy on the picnic table.

 

"You should go out there with them and have fun," Eddie told you, nodding towards the water and your friends.

 

"Are you sure I really don’t mind sitting up here with you?" you said.

 

“Yes, go, I’ll be fine," he answered.

 

“Okay, I’ll come to check on you in thirty minutes, thank you," you said, jumping up and kissing him on the cheek before running towards the water.

 

 

It wasn’t like he wanted to be like this; he wanted nothing more than to go out there and have fun with his friends, but every time something touched his foot, his heart would stop for a second, and he swears he was about to feel the sting of one of those bats ripping into his flesh or one of those creepy vines pulling him into that hole back to the upside-down, take his friends, take his life, or worse, take Y/N. It was crazy. He knew that they had stopped Vecna and El had closed the gate, but he couldn’t stop worrying about the what ifs.

 

He watched them out there laughing and having fun. He wanted to be a part of that so bad, but after everything that had happened at that lake, he hadn’t been doing this as long as you guys. It affected him. Damnit, it did. Every time he even looked at the lake, he had a mini anxiety attack, but being in it freaked him out.

 

He hadn’t realized how zoned out he was until he heard the sound of your laugh. It was an angelic sound. One of Eddie’s favorite things about you was your laugh. It made him smile until he looked up and saw the reason you were laughing. you Dustin Steve and Robin were playing a game of chicken. Robin on Dustin’s shoulders and you on Steve's, his hands wrapped around your thighs. He watched as you pushed Robin off the boys' shoulders. You and Steve cheered, sharing a victory hug after he let you off his shoulder.

 

And while Eddie knew that nothing would ever happen between you and Steve, he couldn’t help the jealousy that sunk into him. He should be the one out there; you were his girlfriend, for fucks sake!

 

So he made a decision he was going to suck it up and he was going to go out there and have fun with his girlfriend and he really thought he meant it but when his foot hit the water he swore he saw one of those bat swimming right at him and the water was so damn cold and he could feel his heart pounding and his breath quickening and he didn’t need to warn you guys because it wasn’t real it wasn’t fucking real and he knew that but it was still absolutely terrifying and he couldn’t do it no matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn’t do it.

 

He could feel the tears falling down his cheeks, and he walked away all the way to his van, where he collapsed against the back of it, pulling his knees to his chest just like he had when he was young. Every time this would happen, every time his dad would come back and then eventually leave again, every time Jason and his friends would corner him, he’d come home covered in bruises and just break down.

 

His thoughts were still running wild when he felt a gentle hand on his back. He didn’t have to look at who it was; he knew it was you. There was no doubt in his mind. He threw himself into your arms, hugging you tightly. You instantly hugged, running one hand up his back and the other through his hair. You had done this for each other many times. You had seen each other at your worst.

 

You hugged him tightly, whispering comforting words in his ear. You had seen him on the shoreline. You had even called to him when you saw the tears falling down his cheeks, but he just walked away. You quickly followed after him, finding him having a breakdown.

 

"Eddie?" You said softly as you felt his breaths slow. You could feel his body relax when you spoke, so you continued, "Do you want to talk about it?"

 

Eddie pulled away from you. Sitting back up, you kept your hand on his back for comfort as he told you what was wrong.

 

Needless to say, you felt like an ass; you had practically made him get in the water and just left him on the shore.

 

"Eddie I’m so sorry, baby. I had no idea you were feeling like this. I should have been there. I’m so sorry.”

 

“No, baby, it’s not your fault. I wanted you to have fun. I’m sorry I ruined your day." Eddie cut you off, avoiding your gaze.

 

“Eddie, you did not ruin my day; you never ruin my day. I love you more than anything, and I promise you that if I knew, I would’ve stayed home with you," you said to him as you grabbed his face with both hands, moving his gaze to your eyes.

 

"I don’t want you to do that, honey. I want to have fun with you. It’s just that every time I try, I feel like I’m about to die," he said, chuckling at how ridiculous he thought he sounded.

 

“Yeah, well, believe it or not, I don’t want you dead, so if that means I don’t get to swim in a lake, I’m more than okay with that," you said, smiling at him and kissing him gently. "Now come on, we can play cards; I have some in my bag." You offered him a hand as you stood up.

 

“Okay, but can we also talk about that whole you love me thing?” Eddie asked, "Because you’ve never said that before. I mean, I get why you’d love me. I mean, great, but what I mean is, do you?” Eddie finished

 

"Shut up, Munson," you said, rolling your eyes and walking away, smiling brightly as your cheeks burned.

 

"Do you?!" He shouted, throwing his arms up as you continued waking, "I’ll just take that as a yes," pausing again to wait for an answer, "I love you too!” He finished when you didn’t reply, running after you.

 

You stopped in your tracks, turning to him. "Really?" You asked, unable to keep the smile off your face.

 

“Yeah, of course, more than anything," he answered, pulling you in for a kiss. You happily kissed back, both of you grinning like idiots as you pulled away, looking into each other's eyes.

 

"I love you," you said at the same time, laughing when you realized this sharing one last kiss before heading back to the picnic table and your friends

[corroded-hellfire]

Ryan gives me “future engineering major at rose hulman” vibes

What would the kiddos college majors be?

CJ @cheesewritings

It’s so funny you ask this because @munson-blurbs and I were talking about this not too long ago!

Ryan would indeed be studying engineering. Mechanical engineering, specifically, because I feel like growing up watching Eddie work on cars and Ryan’s curious nature about how things work come together perfectly with him being an automotive engineer.

Luke does go to college, but he actually joins the Navy first. He does two or three years there, then he goes to college and majors in biology. So many things in life fascinate Luke and a lot of them are things that would gross other people out. Luke likes the “icky” aspects he gets to learn about in biology the most.

Eliza goes to major in criminology like the bad boss bitch that she is. Everything from collecting evidence, putting the puzzle pieces together, to getting horrible criminals off the streets appeal to her. Diva that she is, Eliza has no problem putting the lowlifes in their place.

[deadboyfriendd]

I want to talk about the Munson name.

Okay we know that Eddie’s dad wasn’t great and he talks about “living up to the Munson name.” This insinuates that a handful of other family members are also troubled. This could also explain why he ended up with Wayne because Wayne could possibly be the most stable adult in his family.

From my own experience with living in a small town, and also having a last name that people spit more than they say, I can say that that shit wears on you and you eventually just fall into the expectation until it becomes a really shitty stupid cycle of wanting to be better and wanting to say fuck it and just live up to the expectation almost to the point where you’re proud of it. Where every time you do someone that lives up to that name, there's almost a pang of pride that overshadows the guilt of doing whatever it was that you did and when your parents sit around at whatever family function and those same family members laugh and ruffle your hair and pat you on the back you feel almost like they're proud of you and like you belong to something.

For the majority of my teenage years, I wore the burden of my last name like a hand-me-down coat. It was my source of comfort. When I got sloppy drunk in someones empty pool in the middle of the desert, when I got so high that my friends flipped and called my adult boyfriend, and when I got arrested, I felt that pre-worn expectation set by my grandfather, great uncles, and father. Every fight, every party, and every dangerous situation that made for a fun story. I wore my parents' disappointment like a crown. I wore the crazy like a badge of honor, until it became a shield.

I feel it in my bones now as an adult. I feel it in the way that I’m horrified that I’m still alive and having to think about why I am. I feel it in the way I still want to search for that rush when I can’t keep my mouth shut and I say something that would probably land me in HR if my coworkers cared enough. I search for it in my parents living room when I push my mother’s buttons until she says something I’m satisfied with. I still search for it when someone equates me to my grandfather, but now it comes with a certain dread attached to it. Now that I know better. I hate what I’m turning into and I’m scared that I will get worse.

I know that Eddie feels it. I KNOW because I get it. I know riding the high of the fight and the confrontation and the absolute low that comes after. That ickiness of it all.

Eddie and I are not so different. I just happened to get out of it. I just happened to skate by on luck alone.

[whoahoney]

for glassy eyes, hazy afternoons id personally love to see a little bit of angst, i struggle with body dysmorphia/ED, anxiety. i’d love to see something to do with that but how eddie would react to it. i really love your writing so i think anything you put into this will be great. but pls a happy ending 🙊😂

ps. maybe some spice too?

!!!TW: Mentions of ED!!!

And how Eddie Munson would handle loving someone who struggles with it

Hello, dear! I, too, have heavily struggled with ED/body dysmorphia and anxiety and have really considering making a one shot/mini series centered around the topic entirely since I’ve improved in recent years and think I could make this into very hopeful story!

I think if I injected that into GEHA it would feel rushed because with something like that I’d want to work with it from the beginning and highlight it all the way though.

Off the top of my head, I feel that Eddie wouldn’t really be sure what it means for someone to be going through ED, as far as where they’re at mentally and how it comes about, and I think he’d be confused because he thinks the absolute world of reader.

I think he’d do research where he can—the counselor’s office looking through pamphlets, the library, maybe asking Wayne later on when he feels overwhelmed by it all.

I think he’d do well to always have protein rich snacks to share with her like his cashews, maybe granola bars or trail mix! He’d never force or guilt reader into having some, but the fact that he cares to offer would have her accepting every time, and she wouldn’t find herself feeling icky while chewing and swallowing.

I feel like he’d make it a priority to compliment her daily, but on things besides her body; her eyes, her smile, the way she laughs, the way she wrinkles her nose, etc.

I’d want to see reader getting better because Eddie inspires her to, not because she wants to make him happy. I want to create a genuine happiness in herself and see her come back to life with the help of this sweet boy 😭 I think it’d be cathartic for me.

I’d love to know how you feel about all of this, I love the concept and would love to tag you when it’s done! 🤍

[prismatica-the-strange]

Dad!Eddie Munson where he needs to take care of his very sick child

Hush Sweet Child

Warnings: 18+, Vomit, illness (duh)

I have ne idea where that title came from and this didn't go at all where I meant it, but I drew from experience. I have a Care Bear dvd with old episodes on it that I always watched when I was sick and it's still one of my comfort watches.

"Where's mommy?" Vivian's voice is small, much smaller than usual.

She's curled up in his arms, hair stuck to her sweaty forehead, tucked under his chin.

Eddie'd been worried about getting grease on her yellow Share-Bear shirt since he didn't have time to change out of his dirty coveralls, but the school nurse had changed her into a tshirt from the lost and found.

"Mommy's at work, cause the school called me," he says.

She whines when he moves to put her in her car seat, "My tummy hurts."

"I know, bug," he pulls a garbage bag from the car door and hands it to her, setting the plastic shopping bag with her puke covered shirt on the floor, "If you think you're gonna be sick, so it in this, okay? We'll be home soon."

She's unusually quiet during the car ride and she clings to him when he unclicks the straps to her seat.

He sets her on the couch, "I'm gonna go wash up, stay here, I'll be right back."

Once he's de-greased himself, he runs her a warm bath to wash off any remaining sick and the icky feeling that comes with it.

She's half asleep when he lays her back down on the couch, hair damp and clean jammies on.

"Why don't you take a nap, Bug? I can call mommy and have her pick up some soup on the way home."

"I wan' Patches."

He hurries up to her room to grab her favorite toy which she immediately cuddles once it's on her reach.

"Can I watch Care Bears til I falls a'seep?" She asks.

"Course you can."

He picks a tape at random and throws it in, jabbing his thumb against the rewind button when it starts up mid episode.

She looks so pitiful curled up alone under the beach themed throw blanket, he just can't help himself from scooping her back up and laying her on his chest.

Her little hands play with the fabric of his shirt while she mutters, "I don't like bein' sick. No at school will play wit' you."

"I know, baby, but it's just cause they don't wanna get sick too," He combs his fingers through her hair, "You'll be good as new by tomorrow and all your friends will play with you."

"Pwomise?"

He hooks her pinky other his, "I promise."

A couple hours later Mika gets home, bag full of soup and pedialyte on her arm.

She finds Eddie asleep on the couch with Vivi snuggled up on his stomach Patches squeezed tightly in her arms. There's Care Bears tapes scattered on the floor and static playing in the tv.

She carefully tucks them both under the blanket that had haphazardly been pulled over them and kisses them both on the forehead before going to hear up some soup.

[vitaegratis]

GETTING TO KNOW YOU

respond to the following prompts out of character. then, tag nine others that you would like to get to know a little bit better.

--- ROLEPLAYER NAME ;; Tim

--- ROLEPLAYER PRONOUNS ;; He / Him

--- MUSE NAME ;; Eddie Munson

--- PREFERRED COMMUNICATIONS / discord or tumblr messages for out of character chat? ;; Discord once we're mutuals, tumblr DMs prior

--- EXPERIENCE / how long you’ve roleplayed ;; IDEK how long, but on tumblr at least since like 2011 or 2012 - on and off.

--- PREFERRED ROLEPLAY TYPE / fluff, smut, or angst? ;; I'll write anything tbh. Smut is very unlikely and would only be with select partners I'm comfy writing that with. Fluff, angst, etc. - I'm good with all that though - everything in-between.

--- PET PEEVES AND DEALBREAKERS ;;

Extreme self inserts as OCs. Like you do you, but it just makes me feel icky to facilitate your Y/N desires.

Headcanon stealing. Don't do that.

Love bombing and manipulation.

Causing problems on purpose - just... drama.

Being collected for ships. This one absolutely steams me. I don't mind or judge people writing or interacting with duplicates, and I'm not gonna demand exclusivity - but as my good friend @havvkinsqueen put it -if you're shipping with like 6 of the same muse, what can my muse and I possibly bring you that's different? I know everyone has their own takes, but like. Come on.

Forceshipping

--- PLOTS OR MEMES? ;; Both!

--- LONG REPLIES OR SHORT REPLIES? ;; I try to do at least a paragraph, and three is about my maximum? No need to match length tho!

--- BEST TIME TO WRITE? ;; honestly whenever I have the time n motivation lol

--- ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE? ;; In some ways. I'm a weird little gremlin I guess - but I'm not as extroverted, or obnoxious (i like to think). I like rock and some metal, but I'm not a metalhead by any stretch of the imagination.

Tagged by: @havvkinsqueen

Tagging: the person reading this