m0llygunn

[m0llygunn]

bestfriends to lovers broken ac unit at eddie's trailer with lots of mutual pining and tension would hit so hard mae, please quench this thirst

Thanks for requesting!

cw: semi-nudity, it's not really emphasized but it is implied there are sexual feelings between Eddie and reader

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 888 words

If you stand up, you can catch a bit of breeze coming in through the open window. But it’s a warm breeze, warm and heavy with summer dampness, and the floor is actually pretty cool. You go there instead. 

“Whoa.” Eddie’s eyebrows jump when you start peeling off your shirt. “Okay.” 

“Oh, shut up.” You roll your eyes, ignoring the tingle of unwelcome heat in your face. “I’m wearing a bra.” 

Eddie bobs his head a few times. A few times too many. “Yeah. Okay, yeah. Fuck it.” He takes his shirt off, too. 

Getting undressed in Eddie’s trailer isn’t a regular occurrence for you. You’ve changed here, of course, but usually crammed into the bathroom while Eddie changes in his room or turned around so you can’t see each other. But the window unit gave up the ghost on you just before the heat of the day, and Wayne won’t be home until after dark to fix it, and it’s way too sticky out to have anything between your skin and whatever cool surface you can find. Desperate times, desperate measures. 

You let out a sigh as your back meets the laminate wood floor, your damp skin melding to it so surely you don’t know how you’ll peel yourself back up later. Eddie’s eyes are glued to you. 

“You’ve seen me in a swimsuit,” you point out. “Put your tongue back in your mouth.” 

“Is it nice down there?” 

You shrug. “Cooler than up there.” 

He lays down beside you, groaning blissfully when he feels the same coolness you did. 

You feel your face heat again. “Don’t make sounds like that, either.” 

“Jesus, a guy can’t do anything in his own home,” Eddie says. You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I just said.” 

“I’ll forgive you, because you’re a fucking genius for this.” 

You lay still, feeling the way your back expands and contracts on the floor as you breathe. Eddie’s trailer smells like must and weed. Breathing it in fills your lungs with the feeling of home. It always smells the same here. Even when the heater’s running in winter or that time Eddie spilled milk on the carpet in his bedroom and Wayne bitched him out for making the whole trailer smell ‘like a sick cow,’ you never really think it smells any different than this. 

It’s rare for Eddie to be so quiet. You turn your head to the side, and he’s got his eyes closed. He’s as sweaty as you are, skin shiny and hair all frizzed out around his face, and he’s really handsome, but you’ve known that for a while now. 

You can’t pinpoint when you started finding Eddie’s rings fascinating instead of just cool. When you started noticing how they look with his fingers wrapped around the steering wheel of his van, or the way his lips part just before he smiles, like he’s surprised by it every time. You thought his tattoos were stupid until you didn’t. You still think it’s stupid how he has to smoke every time he gets off work, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think he looks stupidly attractive doing it, too. 

“What’re we gonna do?” 

You startle at the sound of Eddie’s voice. His eyes are still closed.

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

“Like,” he opens his eyes, and you turn quickly back to the ceiling, “it’s not getting any cooler out. Are we just gonna lie here all day?” 

You smile. “What, has this five minutes of doing nothing already been too much for you?” 

“Alright, hey.” He bumps his elbow into yours. You feel the always-surprising swell of his bicep slide against your slick skin. “You’ll get bored too. It’s fucking three in the afternoon.” 

You sigh. “We could…take a couple of beers from the fridge.” 

“Wayne’ll notice.” 

“Take a couple of beers from the neighbor’s fridge.” 

“Mm. That would be good,” Eddie acknowledges, “but they’re still pissed at me for driving over one of their lawn chairs last summer.” 

“What? It was an accident.” 

“Right! It’s not like I was aiming for it. And anyway, I had to pay way more to patch my tire than their shitty lawn chair was worth, so.” 

You make a lazy sound of agreement. “Okay, well if we can’t have something cold to drink I want to go to the pool.” 

You see Eddie’s head loll towards you in your periphery and have to bite down on a smile. “You asshole,” he says slowly. “Why do I even bother keeping you around when you’re nothing but a dick to me?” One corner of your mouth tips up mutinously. Eddie despises Hawkins’ communal pool like nothing else. “Fine. We can do whatever you want, except that.” 

“I want to walk down to 7/11 and get slushees,” you say. Because as much as you’d like not to have to go outside, you don’t actually want Eddie to get in trouble. 

“Okay,” Eddie sighs. “As soon as I can get up.” 

You lay there in silence for another long minute. 

“Eddie?” 

“Huh?” 

You look at him. Eddie’s already watching you, face flushed and cheek pressed against the cool floor. His lips part on a breath. 

“Scoot over. You’re too close, I can feel your body heat.”

[m0llygunn]

𝔞𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔨𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔶-ℌ𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔡 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔰

[m0llygunn]

hi djo shirt x eddie munson inspired jewelry stack under the cut

also rip ozzy I did in fact break out the guitar charm for him this time

I’m kind of scared to wear garf out though so I rarely do because he’s kind of old (from the 80s lol) and I need to get the bail resoldered🫩

[m0llygunn]

𝙿𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻𝙻𝚈 𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙳 | 𝙴𝙳𝙳𝙸𝙴 𝙼𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙾𝙽

Pairings: Roommate/bsf!Eddie x Reader

Word count: 1, 173 words

Summary: You and Eddie Munson are roommates. He thinks that means something more. You just think he’s being Eddie.

Contains: roommate chaos, college setting, Eddie being down horrendously bad, delusional one-sided love (for now), sarcastic reader, mutual domesticity, a sprinkle of pining, and lots of goofy banter

A/N: I' m so sorry i haven’t posted in a while pls take this feral college era Eddie while I recalibrate my brain. Andddd, I just love writing quirky, goofy fics for Eddie.

masterlist |

After defying all odds and passing Ms. O’Donnell’s final with a suspicious number of lucky guesses, Eddie Munson graduated. You didn’t expect him to make it out of Hawkins High, but here he was, diploma in hand and clinging to your side like a caffeinated barnacle. When the college acceptance letters came, it made sense to be roommates. You were best friends. Eddie was harmless.

Except harmless didn’t exactly include the part where he kept calling you “babe” in front of the RA. Or how he bought two toothbrushes before you even moved in, one red, one black. “Yours and mine,” he said, totally casual, like you were an old married couple and this wasn’t your first day sharing a bathroom.

You? You thought Eddie was just being dramatic. He’d always been like this, loud, clingy, theatrical. You were used to it.

But Eddie? Eddie Munson thought he was living out his greatest fantasy, domestic bliss with the girl of his dreams, shared laundry and all.

You’d barely put your backpack down before Eddie kicked the door shut behind you, arms flung wide open like he was revealing a surprise party. “Welcome home, babe,” he grinned, eyes gleaming. “Look! I vacuumed.”

You blinked at the haphazard rugs, the lava lamp already plugged in, and the fact that he’d managed to hang a framed Dio poster next to what you hoped was a scented candle.

“You vacuumed the carpet once and suddenly you’re a house husband?”

He put a hand to his chest, wounded. “House partner, sweetheart. We’ll get to the husband and wife part later. Unless you want it that way, I ain't complaining..” Then he winks.

You dropped your backpack with a thud. “We’re roommates, Eddie. Just roommates.”

He saluted, completely ignoring you. “And I take my domestic duties very seriously. I already took the garbage out and I washed the dish you used for breakfast this morning. So, technically, I’ve been husbanding you for hours.”

You made a face, walking into the kitchen. “That’s not a verb. And stop saying ‘husbanding.’ You’re going to freak out the neighbors.”

Eddie leaned against the fridge with a smug look, still watching you. “You know, you’re lucky I’m this committed. Most guys don’t even make it past moving day without a breakdown. Me? I labeled our snacks.”

You opened the cabinet. Sure enough, a bright sticky note read “Eddie’s Secret Stash touch and DIE <3.”

“I see we’re off to a mature, healthy cohabitation,” you muttered, grabbing one of your granola bars.

Things only got worse (or better, depending on which one of you you asked) from there.

He insisted on walking you to class. He made your coffee in the morning, just how you liked it. He left notes on the fridge like Out of milk :( I’ll get some, don’t worry babe, as if you were a couple sharing groceries and not two broke college kids trying to survive Econ 101.

And the worst part? He looked so smug about it. Every time you rolled your eyes or called him ridiculous, Eddie just beamed at you like he was winning some secret game.

One day, you opened the closet to find his Hellfire shirt hanging next to your cardigans.

“Why is your stuff in my half?”

He shrugged. “Just trying out the married aesthetic. Feels more real when our clothes mingle, y’know?”

You chucked a slipper at him.

Then with laundry.

You don’t mean for it to. You really don’t. But one Saturday afternoon, your favorite hoodie is missing, and Eddie’s favorite band shirt is somehow tucked into your drawer, and before you know it, you were shouting.

“Did you put our clothes in the same load again?” you shout from the bedroom.

“Define ‘our,’” Eddie yells back, and you can hear the grin.

You storm into the living room. “Are you just washing everything together now? My delicates were in there!”

Eddie, curled up on the couch in your hoodie (your hoodie!), blinks up at you with zero shame. “What’s mine is yours, sweetheart. It’s just more efficient.”

You gesture wildly. “That is not how laundry or roommates work!”

He stretches his legs, bare feet propped on the coffee table like this is some kind of sitcom. “Okay, but consider: if you marry me,”

“I’m not marrying you.”

“you won’t have to worry about separate laundry loads ever again. Think of the savings.”

You deadpan, “You think this is a pitch?”

“It’s a lifestyle.”

You walk off muttering something about bleach and boy germs, but Eddie just smirks to himself and nuzzles deeper into your hoodie. He’s winning. Slowly. Deliberately. Like a fungus. A charming, metal loving fungus with a hopeless crush.

“It’s like we’re already married,” Eddie said, tossing a bag of off brand cereal into your shared shopping cart.

“We are literally just roommates.”

“Exactly. Roommates. The first stage of marriage.”

You gave him a look, the usual one. The one that said I don’t know what weird brain chemicals you’re running on today, Munson, but I’m too tired to argue. Then you just sighed, picked out your preferred kind of yogurt Eddie called it “girly parfait goop”, and turned the cart toward the freezer section.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like living with him. Honestly, you seemed pretty happy with your arrangement. You let him play Dio in the living room, you didn’t even yell when he forgot to take out the trash, and you always made a second cup of coffee in the morning, leaving it by his door without fail. You were sweet. You were golden. You were absolutely not in love with him.

Yet.

But Eddie had plans. Long game plans. Big, delusional, deeply unserious plans.

Your apartment wasn’t much. Just two bedrooms, a shared bathroom, and a tiny living room and a tiny kitchen with a microwave that sounded like it was dying every time you used it. But it was yours, and Eddie was thriving. His band posters were up in the living room. His guitar leaned permanently on the couch. And you, beautiful, radiant, confusing as hell, you left your fuzzy socks all over the floor like you were just asking him to fall harder for you every day.

“I fixed the shower pressure,” you said one night, walking into the living room drying your hair with a towel and wearing one of his old Hellfire shirts like it was no big deal.

Eddie, who was halfway through eating dry Cap’n Crunch and watching a horror movie, immediately forgot the plot and maybe his name.

“You did?”

You shrugged, plopping down beside him and stealing a handful of cereal. “It was just the nozzle. It was all gunked up.”

“My sexy little plumber,” he said, mouth full.

“Gross,” you replied, but you were smiling, and Eddie was pretty sure he saw God for a second.

A/N: hi hello I’m back on my clown shit thank you for waiting. I missed writing a painfully delusional Eddie so much. I'm planning on adding a few more parts, what do you guys think??

[m0llygunn]

[m0llygunn]

do it scared. do it whimpering. do it whining and pleading. do it with a raging hard-on

[m0llygunn]

part of me would love for eddie to be alive but mostly i feel like death is the only safe place for him like what if the duffer brothers make him do some dumb ass shit he would never do

[m0llygunn]

I (unfortunately) run in circles adjacent to the field of ai and I’ve said it before but I was fully giving tin foil hat levels of crazy telling people to stay away from ai before it got popular and nobody listened so now I’m just like a defeated withered away old person that everyone called crazy once upon a time

[m0llygunn]

A little metalhead primping

[m0llygunn]

sitting here thinkin’ about bestfriend ahem boyfriend!eddie, and when he tells you his first I love you. his feet would be tapping and hands shaking before you lean in with a soft smile, pulling him close to you and kissing him sweet before telling him just how much you love him too.

[m0llygunn]

I got these from sarahhindsgaul’s IG, she posted another video on Eddie’s wig! It’s a bit extended from the one a couple days ago.

[m0llygunn]

I am mostly an observer when it comes to joseph quinn stuff but remember when you guys thought he went out without teeth like that’s so funny😭

[m0llygunn]

I have successfully said ‘hot as balls’ around my mom enough times that she accidentally said it I’m so proud of her

[m0llygunn]

what they don’t tell you about writing is AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!! AAAAAAAAAAHH!!!

[m0llygunn]

idc I love moaning and groaning like if I feel sick or am in pain I am bill murray from zombieland-ing it out you will know the ways in which I am suffering

[m0llygunn]

I have been informed that there is a steve harrington lookalike at one of the dispensaries by my house (and he knows it too he took off his hat to shake out his hair while talking about djo…..)