#eddie fluff

[wonderlandwalker]

Two can play (but three's more fun)

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 / 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: steve harrington x reader x eddie munson 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.2k 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when Steve catches Eddie staring a little too long at his girlfriend, he doesn’t throw a punch—he extends an invitation. And as Eddie quickly learns, Steve doesn’t just share; he teaches, with slow, filthy demonstrations. 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, just pure filth really, posessive steve, desperate eddie, a lot of swearing, I couldn't help it, maybe some repetitive words but smut vocabulary just has it's limits

𝐚/𝐧: I got insanely stoned and wrote this so if it came out too horny i'm sorry, also im ovulating oops. I've prolly been very inconsistent with grammar tenses but I can't be bothered to check it. I usually correct my grammar after i've already posted so the masterlist link has significantly less errors than earlier versions

The living room was bathed in the flickering glow of the TV, some forgotten horror movie playing on low volume—The Thing, maybe, or was it Halloween?—its eerie soundtrack warping under the weight of the thick, sweet-smelling haze curling through the air. 

Eddie had outdone himself with this new strain, something sticky and potent that left his limbs heavy and his usual sharp edges dulled into something languid and warm, his thoughts perhaps a bit too syrupy.

“—I know I talk a big game, man, but fuck. I have no clue what I’m doing when it actually comes down to it.”

His voice was a low mumble, words slipping out like he hadn’t meant to say them at all. He tipped his head back against the couch cushions, staring at the ceiling as if it might hold answers.

Steve blinks at him, slow and rhythmically, before snorting. “What, like… at all?”

“Yeah, man. Like—”  Eddie waves a hand vaguely, the silver of his rings glinting as he moves. “How the fuck am I supposed to know what sounds are real and which ones are fake? It’s fucking Russian roulette.”

The next reaction from Steve is immediate, no hesitation. Just a lazy, knowing smirk as he stretches his arms behind his head. “Huh. Well, once you know the difference, it becomes pretty obvious.” He pauses, just long enough to take a quick glance over Eddie’s face. “If you really need some pointers, I can ask my girlfriend if she wants to help you out.”

Eddie nearly comes crashing to the fucking floor.

Because fuck. He’s had a crush on you for, like, forever. Not that he’s ever admitted it out loud — not when Steve Harrington has a reputation for rearranging the faces of guys who so much as look at you wrong. Eddie has seen it happen: some poor asshole at a party, fingers skimming your ass as you passed, and bam — Steve’s fist in his jaw before anyone could blink. There’s even a rumour some other idiot once stared just a little too long at the way your lips wrapped around the neck of your beer bottle and then slurred, “Wanna spin the bottle?” Word is, Steve dropped him in one hit. No warning. No theatrics. Just pure, primal instinct.

So yeah, Eddie’s kept his mouth shut.

But now? Now Steve is watching him with this lazy, half-lidded expression, like he hadn’t just detonated a goddamn bomb in Eddie’s head.

“You’re fucking with me.” Eddie pleads, his voice rough.

Steve just grins — slow, deliberate — his eyes dark with something Eddie can't name. “Nah, man. She’s actually really into that kinda stuff.” His voice drops, gravel scraping over each word, and Eddie’s stomach flips “And I’d do anything for her.”

The air feels thick as Eddie’s pulse roars in his ears, his throat suddenly bone-dry. Was this a test? A trap?  Christ.  Harrington was going to be the death of him, and worse—Eddie knew he’d fucking thank him for it.

His fingers twitch at his sides. “...Yeah?”

Steve’s smile only widens, but his eyes soften. “Yeah.”

When Eddie shows up at your place the next night, he’s strung tight enough to power Hawkins twice over, his pulse hammering in his throat. He’s spent the last twenty-four hours convincing himself he’d imagined the whole conversation, that there was no way Steve Harrington just offered— 

And then you open the door.

Dressed in nothing but one of Steve’s old band tees, the fabric riding high on your thighs, you greet him with a smile that damn near stops his heart. “Hey, Eddie.”

His mouth goes dry. And before he can choke out a response, Steve is behind you, hands sliding possessively around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. And then — Jesus Christ.

The kiss Steve gives you isn’t just heated — it’s filthy. All tongue and teeth, your fingers twisting in his hair as he backs you against the doorframe, his hands already under your shirt like it’s a regular Tuesday afternoon.

Eddie’s knees nearly give out.

“Watch,” Steve murmurs against your lips when he finally breaks away, his gaze flicking to Eddie over your shoulder. His voice dark and commanding. “And pay attention.” 

Then, right there in the doorway, Steve pulls the shirt over your head — meticulously slow, like he wants Eddie to memorise every second. And, well — Eddie does.

He memorises the way your breath hitches when Steve’s fingers brush over your ribs, the way you arch into his touch, the soft, real sounds spilling from your lips as Steve’s mouth finds the top of your breasts— 

Eddie’s throat protests as he swallows, fingers twitching at his sides like he can’t decide whether to bolt or drop to his knees.

Steve notices —of course he does— and his lips curl into something dangerously close to a challenge. “You just going to stand there, Munson?” His hands slide down your hips, squeezing just hard enough to make you softly gasp. “Thought you wanted to learn.” Eddie manages to get control over his brain just long enough to answer “I— Yeah. Fuck. Yeah. I do.”

Steve hums, pleased, and spins you around to face Eddie fully, his palm splayed possessively over your stomach. “Then get over here.”

It’s not a request.

Eddie moves like a man in a trance, close enough now to feel the heat of your skin, to catch the intoxicating scent of your perfume. His gaze darts between your face and Steve’s fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles over your collarbone.

“First lesson,” Steve murmurs, leaning in to nip at your earlobe.  “Don’t just touch. Listen.”  His free hand reaches out, grabbing Eddie’s wrist and dragging it toward you. “Feel how she reacts.”

Eddie’s fingertips brush your waist—hesitant at first, then firmer when you shiver under his touch. His breath hitches as you lean into him, lashes fluttering when his thumb grazes the delicate curve of your ribs.

“Good.”  Steve’s voice is low, eyes locked on Eddie’s every twitch. “Now kiss her.”

Eddie’s head jerks up. “What?”

Steve’s grin is all teeth. “Unless you don’t—”

“No, I—fuck.” He surges forward, crashing his mouth against yours like a man starved. It’s messy and desperate, and he barely gets a taste before Steve yanks you back by the waist, eyebrows furrowed in disapproval.

“Jesus Christ. Not like that.”

Eddie stumbles after you as Steve kicks the door shut behind them. “It’s like you were raised by wolves.”

Eddie opens his mouth to protest—then snaps it shut. Because Steve’s right. He’s a wreck.

“What are you waiting for, a written invitation?”  Steve’s voice is rough with impatience. “Kiss her again.”

Eddie hesitates—just for a second—before lust wins the war. This time, when his lips find yours, it’s still hungry, but it’s also aware, his movements more controlled. For a heartbeat, he’s terrified Steve will deem him unworthy of you altogether and kick him back to the curb—until you moan into it, until your fists twist in his shirt and drag him closer.

Steve groans in approval against your shoulder. “That’s it,” he rasps, pressing you forward just enough that Eddie can feel your heartbeat against his chest. “Now slow down. Make her want it.”

Eddie whimpers, but obeys, pulling back just enough to tease your lower lip between his teeth before licking into your mouth like you’re water and he’s been dying of thirst.

The sound you make — the soft, wanting whine—it's the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Steve pulls you back again, but this time, there’s satisfaction in his grin. “See?”  His thumb swipes over your kiss-swollen lips, smug. “She likes it when you take your time.”

Steve doesn’t let go of you—not really. Even as he nudges you toward the couch, his palm stays glued to the small of your back, steering you like he owns every inch of space you move through. Eddie doesn’t need to be told to follow; his pulse hammers in his throat, fingers flexing like he’s already imagining the weight of you beneath them.

“Sit.” Steve’s order cracks through the air, and Eddie drops onto an armchair like his strings have been cut.

You don’t get the chance to join him. Steve catches your wrist, yanking you back against his chest instead. His mouth brushes your ear, voice a low, possessive hum: “Nah, sweetheart. You’re staying right here.” His fingers trail down your arm before guiding your hand to Eddie’s jaw. “Let him earn it.”

Eddie’s breath stutters. Christ. Up close, you’re devastating. The way your eyes shimmer with pure lust, the way your lips part—just slightly—when Steve’s fingers skim over the lace of your bra. The syrupy moan you let out when he pinches your nipple over it, just enough to make your back arch—

“See that?”  Steve’s voice is rough against your ear. “She gets loud when she’s turned on. You just have to know how to listen.” Eddie nods, swallowing hard. His hands hover over your hips like he’s afraid you’ll dissolve under his touch. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Jesus, Munson. You’re not going to break her.” He grabs Eddie’s wrist, pressing his palm flat against your stomach. “Feel how warm she is? How fucking desperate?”

Eddie’s fingers twitch. He can feel it—the rapid rise and fall of your breath, the way your skin burns under his touch.

“Now”, Steve murmurs, lips grazing your shoulder, “show me what you’ve learned.”

Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice.

This time, when he kisses you, it’s relaxed—calculated. He licks into your mouth like he’s savouring it, one hand sliding up your ribs while the other tangles in your hair. And when you moan, when your hips jerk forward like you just can’t help it, Eddie groans against your lips like he’s just discovered fucking religion.

Steve watches, eyes dark with approval. “Better,” he rasps. Then, with a smirk: “Now get on your knees.”

Eddie freezes, and Steve arches a brow,“got a problem?”

“No—fuck, no.”  Eddie’s already sliding to the floor, knees hitting the carpet with a thud. His hands find your thighs, gripping just tight enough to feel the muscle tense under his fingers.

Steve’s smirk widens. “Good.”

The praise goes straight to Eddie’s dick.

You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to make him gasp—and God, Eddie’s never been so hard in his life.

Steve’s voice is a murmur as he trails a path down your throat, bruises already blooming under his mouth. “Now, make her beg.”

Eddie’s breathing is ragged as he looks up at you—fuck, the way your pupils are blown wide, the way your chest rises with every shaky inhale. Steve’s fingers are still tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing a stray strand behind your ear with a tenderness that feels domestic. Your eyes meet Eddie’s just before they flutter shut, and it’s all the permission he needs. His mouth finds the inside of your knee first, lips dragging slow and hot up your skin, teeth grazing just enough to make you squirm. Steve hums, tracing your ribs and sliding your bra strap down your shoulder. His palm cups your breast as it spills free, kneading with a lazy possessiveness that has your hips jerking forward — but Eddie holds you steady, determined. 

His tongue traces past the waistband of your panties like he’s trying to memorise the shape of you, and when his eyes flick up to Steve, all he finds is lust, raw and unfiltered. So Eddie hooks his fingers into the fabric and pulls, dragging it down your legs as he kisses a trail after it, reverent even in his hunger. His fingers work you with surprising precision, his gaze desperate for approval — and when he curls them just right, you gasp, arching into his touch with a moan loud enough to make Steve’s smirk falter. He wasn’t expecting that.

The slip in Steve’s control sends a thrill through Eddie, and he murmurs against your thigh, voice rough: “You sound so fucking sweet — bet you taste even better.”  Steve’s grip tightens on your hip, hard enough to bruise, but you don’t seem to mind.

He’d meant to teach. Now, he’s learning.

And the way you’re unravelling under Eddie’s touch stirs something awake inside of him. Eddie’s got a musician’s dexterity, his fingers able to coax sinful melodies from you with every twist. When you whimper Eddie’s name, Steve’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t stop him. Just watches with a gaze darker than the midnight sky itself as Eddie’s breath ghosts over you, your thighs trembling. “Please—”

The word barely leaves your lips before Eddie adds another finger, crooking them until your thighs squeeze around his wrist. He groans against your skin, resting his forehead against your leg as the vibration tears another broken sound from your throat. He fucks you with his fingers — slow and deep, then fast and relentless, like he can’t decide whether to savour you or ruin you.

Eddie, drunk on your praise, dares to glance up at Steve with a smirk. Steve’s nostrils flare, but instead of shutting him down, he drags a thumb over your cheek and growls, “You gonna cum for him?” You can’t even answer. Your back arches, toes curling, and Eddie drinks it in like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. The moment you shatter, he loses it. He’s not sure what destroys him more — the way you choke out his name, begging him not to stop, or the filthy, approving rumble of Steve’s voice as he speaks, “Good girl.”

Eddie finds himself at an impasse, torn between begging for more and staying silent as the two of you decide his fate. His fingers twitch where they grip your thighs, his breath ragged, his entire body coiled tight with anticipation—and fear. Steve detaches himself from nipping at your collarbone when Eddie wavers, his movements faltering. A reprimand flashes in Steve’s darkened gaze, sharp enough to make Eddie shudder again. “Didn’t you hear her, Munson?”  Steve’s voice is a low, warning growl. “She told you not to stop.”

But Eddie freezes. The reality of where he is—what he’s doing—hits him like a freight train. He has no idea how to continue.

But Steve doesn’t tolerate hesitation. His hand fists in Eddie’s hair, yanking him forward with a rough, “Stop thinking.”

Eddie obeys like a man possessed, and the moment his tongue drags over you, his whole body jerks���holy shit. You taste even better than he could’ve dared to dream. Sweet, addictive, and the way you gasp when he flicks his tongue over your clit?  He’s ruined. Forever.

Drunk on you—on the way your fingers tighten in his hair, the way you’re so wet it’s coating your thighs—he laps at you like his life depends on it. Steve watches with drowsy satisfaction, his palm sliding possessively up your stomach to cup your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple just to hear you whimper for him again.

“Listen to how she sounds when you do it right,” Steve murmurs, voice thick with contentment. “Isn’t it the most beautiful sound in the world?” He doesn’t wait for Eddie to answer. Instead, he tilts your jaw toward him, locking you in a searing kiss. You moan into Steve’s mouth as Eddie continues, his tongue relentless, his own desperate noises vibrating against you. Steve chuckles darkly when Eddie whimpers, his cock straining against his jeans just from tasting you. He hasn’t even touched himself, but he’s so close he’s shaking.

“Are you going to come just from this, Munson?” Steve drags him off you by his hair, grinning at the dazed, wrecked look on Eddie’s face. “Fuck, look at him, darling. He’s a mess.” Eddie’s lips are slick, his chest heaving, his pupils blown so wide his eyes look black. Steve doesn’t give him a chance to recover. He pushes Eddie back into the armchair, his grip firm, dominant. Then he guides you onto the couch with a smirk.

“You did good,” he tells Eddie, voice dripping with condescension. “Now let me show you great.”

Steve doesn’t waste time. In one smooth motion, he hooks his hands under your knees, spreading you wide —putting you on display— before dragging you to the edge of the couch. His gaze locks onto Eddie’s, making sure he’s watching as he leans down and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh, a shudder running through you at the sensation. “See how she shivers?” Steve murmurs, his breath hot against your skin, laced with something Eddie can only describe as devotion. “It’s because she knows what’s coming—” Then he devours you. 

Unlike Eddie’s frantic, eager strokes, Steve’s tongue moves with precision — deliberate, decisive licks that have you arching off the couch within seconds. He teases you, circling your clit until you’re gasping, then he pulls back with a cruel smirk.

“Steve—” you whine, fingers scrambling at his hair. “Patience, sweetheart,” he muses — before sucking your clit between his lips, hard. Your cry echoes through the room, and Eddie’s hands clench into fists, his hips jerking helplessly as you overwhelm his senses without even touching him. Steve doesn’t let up; he works you with his mouth until your thighs tremble, until your moans grow longer and heavy, until you’re right there—, and he pulls away.

“No, no, baby, please—” you beg, but Steve just clicks his tongue, amused, sliding two fingers into you without warning. “Look at her, Munson,” he orders, curling his fingers just right, making you sob beneath him. “This is how you give her what she deserves.” His thrusts are ruthless, his palm grinding against your clit with every movement. You’re a writhing, whimpering mess, your nails digging into Steve’s shoulders as he fucks you on his fingers, his eyes locked onto Eddie’s the entire time.

“She’s close,” Steve taunts — he doesn’t even need to look at you to know, too busy watching the way Eddie’s jaw clenches.  “You want to see what happens when she comes on my hand?” Eddie can’t even speak. He just nods, frantic. Steve smiles wickedly and makes do with the response. “Then watch closely.”

He crooks his fingers again, pressing deeper, and you don’t just shatter — you explode. Your back bows like you’re possessed, broken screams tearing from your throat as you squirt, and Eddie swears he’s seeing stars. Your hand finds Steve’s bicep, clinging desperately, like you’re afraid he’ll stop. Eddie can’t look away; he doesn’t dare blink — if he misses a single second of this, he’ll never forgive himself.

Steve works you through it, drawing out every last spasm until tears streak your face, until you’re oversensitive, trying to squirm away. Only then does he finally relent, licking his fingers with a satisfied hum before brushing featherlight kisses up to your neck. The moment you feel his proximity, you meet him in a kiss — not heated like before, but purposeful, delicate, like Steve is guiding you back to reality with it. He doesn’t rush you; he just lets your fingers weave through his hair until your breathing steadies. Then, he speaks again. “That”, he says, “is how it’s done.” He meets Eddie’s stunned gaze. “You shouldn’t even be thinking about getting your dick wet until she’s clenching around nothing.”

Eddie’s so hard it hurts. His cock throbs against his jeans, neglected and aching, precum soaking the fabric. He’s never been this turned on in his life—and the worst part? Steve knows it. The bastard smirks, dragging a thumb over your lower lip. You suck it in eagerly, tongue swirling, before he pulls away and stands. It’s a fucking performance. Steve undoes his belt like he’s savouring the way Eddie’s eyes cling to his hands, the leather slipping free with a final, damning shush. You whimper, still boneless from your orgasm, but your eyes flutter open when Steve’s palm slides up your thigh, squeezing. “Please, Steve?” you breathe, and his grin turns feral. “Not yet, love.” He glances at Eddie, whose throat bobs under the weight of his stare. “Munson hasn’t earned it yet.”

Eddie’s stomach drops. Fuck. He’s dripping in his pants, his hips twitching like a fucking teenager, and Steve’s going to make him wait?  But then— 

Steve grips Eddie’s chin, forcing his gaze up. “You want her?” he asks, voice rough. Eddie nods, greedy. “Then prove you can take care of her.” And just like that, Steve shoves him onto the couch with you. “Do it like I showed you.”

For a heartbeat, Eddie can only stare—at the way your breath hitches when he touches you, at the way your eyes lock on Steve, who’s sprawled in the armchair like it’s a fucking throne, lazily stroking his cock. Your lips part, and Eddie swears he sees your mouth water—fuck, it’s obscene. His hands tremble as he touches you—really touches you—this time. His mouth finds your thigh, kissing up the sensitive skin, trying to mimic the way Steve had worshipped you earlier. But when his tongue drags over you, your breath catches—wrong—and Steve’s low chuckle cuts through the room like a knife.

“Christ, Munson,” Steve sighs, his grip tightening around his cock. “You’re thinking too hard.”

Eddie grits his teeth. He is. He’s thinking about the way Steve had made you scream, the way your back arched off the couch like you were trying to fuse into him. He’s thinking about the fact that Steve’s watching, lazily stroking himself while Eddie fumbles like a virgin.

And the nail in the coffin? You’re watching Steve too. Your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes heavy with desire—but not for Eddie.

“Fuck,” Eddie rasps, pulling back. His voice is wrecked.“I can’t—I don’t—” Steve leans forward, fingertips ghosting over your throat as you keen toward him. “You can,” he growls. “Stop trying to perform. Just feel her.”

Eddie’s breath comes in sharp bursts. This time, when his mouth finds your cunt, he doesn’t think. He listens. To the way your breath catches when he licks a slow, experimental stripe. To the way your hips jerk when he sucks just there. And when your fingers fist in his hair—finally—it’s not to guide him, but to hold on.

“There,” Steve murmurs, voice thick with approval. “Now you’re getting it.” Eddie moans against you, the vibration pulling a whimper from your throat. Fuck. He’s dizzy with it—the taste of you, the sounds you’re making, the way Steve’s gaze burns into him like a brand.

But then Steve stands. Eddie barely has time to register the loss before Steve’s dragging him up by the collar, spinning him around to face you—really face you. Your lips are swollen, your chest heaving, your thighs slick with Steve’s work.

"Look at her," Steve growls, his voice a dark scrape against Eddie’s ear. "Don’t just glance—really look."

And Eddie looks. He sees the damp flush between your breasts, the way your hips lift like you’re already chasing it, the way your pupils blow wide when Steve’s thumb swipes over your bottom lip. "She’s not yours," Steve breathes, dragging his teeth over Eddie’s earlobe. "But fuck, look how bad she wants you to try."

Eddie’s pulse races. Then Steve steps back, gesturing like a king permitting a subject to kneel. "Go on. Make her forget my fucking name."

So he closes his eyes, trying to drown out the noise in his head, to sync himself with the thrum of your heartbeat beneath him, to dissolve into every breath you take. He wants to belong here, in this moment, where Steve’s approval hangs heavy in the air and your pleasure is the only thing that matters — success. A satisfied hum from Steve when Eddie finally finds the right rhythm, a broken moan from your lips. But your eyes — your eyes stay locked on Steve, even as Eddie’s mouth works you over.  It’s still him you want. Hunger battles with pride in Eddie’s chest. He hates how badly he craves this—how much he needs Steve’s approval—but god, he longs to pull those sounds from you himself, to unravel you with nothing but his touch. And so he moves like a man possessed, single-minded in his mission to play you like an instrument, to pluck every string until you snap.

Your taste is intoxicating, something he’s already addicted to, something he’s not sure he can live without anymore. Your eyes scrunch shut as pleasure blooms, so lost in it that you don’t even notice Steve speeding up his strokes, his grip tight on his cock. Eddie gets close—so close he can practically taste your climax—but you linger on the edge, just out of reach. He’s aware he’s missing something, some final piece to send you over, but he can’t find it. Then your eyes flicker open again, searching for Steve’s gaze like it’s the only thing that can save you. And Eddie knows—he’s pushed his luck too far. Steve’s patience snaps—not with his pleasure, but with Eddie’s failure to give you yours. Next thing he knows, he’s being dragged back, the warmth of you ripped away too soon. Steve looms over him, a predator in human skin, annoyance rolling off him in waves. “If you want to get a chance to fuck her,” Steve growls, voice dripping with challenge, “you’re going to have to do better than that.” 

Eddie’s brain becomes the mental equivalent of a dropped Wi-Fi signal—because did Steve just imply—?

Every touch, every taste Steve has allowed him, Eddie has devoured with insatiable hunger. But now it hits him—this is more than just a demonstration. Steve might actually let him fuck you. Or he would have. Now, Eddie isn’t sure he’ll ever get the opportunity again. A sharp, breathy cry from you yanks him from his thoughts. Steve has already turned you over, guiding you onto your hands and knees, one foot perched on the armrest behind you like a damn king claiming his treasure. Eddie is so close to your face now, your slick still glistening on his chin as you blink up at him, dazed. Steve teases your entrance with his cock, just enough to have you pushing back, begging for it. And for one glorious, heart-stopping moment—you look at Eddie.

Not at back at Steve.

At him.

Your gaze is pure, primal desperation—like he’s the one you need. Steve drives into you in one brutal thrust, and your eyes screw shut in ecstasy. You sob Steve’s name, but your eyes flicker back open as you you look at him.

“Baby, please—” And it dawns on him—you are begging Steve, but not for Steve. No, you’re begging for permission, your gaze locked onto Eddie like he’s the only thing anchoring you to earth. He doesn’t know what you’re asking for, but Christ, he already knows he wants it just as much. 

Steve, of course, does understand. He drags his cock into you agonisingly slow, pressing tender kisses along your spine even as his voice comes out harsh. “You think he deserves it, honey?” You whine, desperate, but Steve doesn’t need more than that. He leans over you, his thrusts deliberate, sinful. “How could I ever say no to you?”

And fuck, Eddie gets it now—gets why Steve turns possessive, gets why you love it. He’s watching the two of you move like a single entity, Steve’s hips rolling into you with a precision that rewrites Eddie’s entire understanding of sex. And the real tragedy? He’s pretty sure you’re only getting started. Your fingers fist in Eddie’s collar, yanking him down hard. His breath stutters as your lips take him in, hot and needy, and he doesn’t think—just reacts, his hands tangling in your hair as Steve’s thrusts rock you forward, forcing Eddie deeper into your mouth. You moan around him, the vibrations nearly undoing him right there, but then your hand tugs at his belt loop like it’s personally offended you, and Eddie’s thoughts fry into static. What do you want? He glances at Steve for answers, but the bastard just laughs, driving into you harder like he’s savouring Eddie’s confusion.

And God help him, Eddie looks. It’s downright pornographic. Steve’s cock glistens as he pulls out, your body clinging to him like it never wants to let go, and every time he sinks back in, you clench, a broken noise tearing from your throat.

As Eddie freezes, you take matters into your own hands, undoing Eddie’s belt with ruthless efficiency. The zipper’s barely down before his jeans pool at his knees. He looks at Steve again—helpless—but Steve just shakes his head, smirking. “Jesus, Munson. Keep up.”

Your fingers brush the straining outline of his cock through his boxers, and his hips jerk. Your mouth finds the spot beneath his ear, teeth scraping, and—fuck—it nearly sends him over the edge right then. You’re not gentle. You know exactly what you want. In seconds, his dick is in your hand, your grip perfect, and the first stroke has him grinding his teeth so hard his jaw hurts. He wants to keep his eyes open—to watch, to devour every detail of every second—but his body betrays him. A shudder wracks through him, his lashes fluttering helplessly before his head falls back, lost to the crushing wave of ecstasy."

“Fuck—!”

Steve’s voice cuts through the haze, dark with amusement. “That’s it, sweetheart. Show him how good you can be.” His hand tangles in your hair—not guiding, just holding—like he wants Eddie to see he’s the one in control. That every gasp you make, every shudder Eddie can’t suppress, is because Steve orchestrated it.

“Bet he’s never felt anything like you.” Eddie’s thighs tremble, his cock twitching against your tongue. He’s close, too close, and Steve knows it—fuck, he’s enjoying it. “Look at him,” Steve murmurs, dragging his cock out of you just to slam back in, punching a moan from your lips.  “Already shaking for you.  Bet he wishes it was him inside instead.” His thumb swipes over your clit, and you whimper, your rhythm on Eddie faltering. “But he’s got to earn that, doesn’t he?”

Earn it? Eddie’s vision blurs at the edges. He’d shamelessly beg if it meant— Then your tongue swirls over the head of his cock, and he chokes, almost falling forward into you.

“Steady,” Steve warns, though his voice is anything but calm. “You cum before she does, and I’ll make you watch while I fuck her twice as hard.”

Eddie’s groan is nothing short of pure agony. Steve fucks you more slowly then—cruel, like he’s savouring Eddie’s torment—dragging his cock almost all the way out before sinking back in, his grip on your hair tightening just enough to make your eyes water. But your dedication doesn’t waver; if anything, it burns hotter. “Shit—”  Eddie’s hips jerk involuntarily, but you swallow him deeper, humming around the salt-bitter heat of him. His fingers scramble at the cushions, knuckles white. “Jesus, sweetheart, where the hell did you learn—?”

Steve’s laugh is a dark, knowing thing against your neck. His hands slide up your thighs, spreading you wider as he presses inside, slow, letting you feel every fucking inch. “She’s full of surprises,” he murmurs, lips grazing your ear. “But you’re not going to last long enough to find out, are you?”

Eddie’s groan disintegrates, the way you swirl your tongue around him, the slick pressure of your throat—it’s nothing like the groupies who’d thrown themselves at Corroded Coffin. This is ruination. This is worship. Your mouth works him with practiced greed, and Eddie’s vision blurs.

“Fuck, I’m not—I can’t—” 

“Yes. You can.” Steve’s voice doesn’t leave room for argument—this isn’t a suggestion; it’s a command. His hand moves from your scalp to your nipple, pinching just shy of pain until you whine around Eddie’s cock. His other hand slips between your legs, circling your clit with filthy precision. “You going to come for us, sweetheart?” he rasps. You nod frantically, lips stretched lewdly around Eddie. “Good. Let him see.” You break with a cry, muffled around Eddie’s cock, and Steve growls as your body clenches around him. “That’s it,” he grits out, hips snapping harder, “that’s my girl—” Eddie’s spellbound.

 Steve fucks you through it, your tears smearing Eddie’s thighs. His breath comes in punched-out gasps, cock twitching against your tongue—

Steve loses control first. A guttural groan tears from his throat as he spills inside you, forehead dropping between your shoulder blades.

Eddie’s hips stutter when you whimper, oversensitive, as Steve grinds into you one last time—claiming you like he wants to brand the feeling into your skin. And then— “Fuck!”  Eddie’s back arches, his cock jerking as you pull off with a slick pop, begging Steve for mercy. He comes untouched, frustration and relief searing through him as he gasps your name like a prayer. Steve laughs, low and satisfied. Eddie’s too wrecked to care, chest heaving—until Steve’s next words send him tumbling straight back into want.

“Let me know if you’ve got any requests for the next lesson.”

[asoftsighh]

I’ve been feeling some Eddie Munson lately idk maybe something like meeting Wayne for the first time both have lots of nerves

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ eddie munson x reader ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

you meet wayne for the first time

1k words

a/n - i’m realizing this is more focused on eddie than wayne😭😭 it's okay i still love it. thank you for requesting angel!!

By the third album Eddie has played for you, you are more convinced that he likes listening to screaming and loud guitar more than actual rock. You’d never say that to his face though, your relationship a bit too new and fresh for that amount of teasing. Maybe one day you’ll work up the courage. 

Eddie is saying something over the music, looking at you earnestly. You reach over the center console of his van and turn down the dial before you have to ask him to repeat it and he forgets it all. He does that often, acts like his mind is in ten different places at all times. You can’t help but smile at him now, his frizzy hair haloing his face like he’s been fighting the wind. (He really just stuck his head out the window while driving earlier.)

“I couldn’t hear you over the music,” You explain at his look. His confusion switches to something else entirely, his teeth shining beneath the nearby street lights. Something you have told him before is that he reminds you of the Cheshire cat when he smiles like this; full of teeth and frizzy hair. 

He huffs out a laugh, his breath rustling pieces of his hair. “I said..” He starts, and you know that you’re in for it. His head tips downward and to the side, his mouth finding your cheek. “That you should sleepover tonight.” A shiver shot down your spine; whether it was from his words or his warm breath against your skin, you weren’t sure.

Your breath hitches, just a little, before you can help it. Eddie must feel it, because he abandons his kisses to pull away to look at you. “Only if you want to,” He adds softly, yet you can tell he really wants you to. Even if you didn’t, you very much do, it’d be hard to say no to his pretty face. 

You nod, slowly, but not because you’re uncertain. More like that hesitance that still sits between you two, the one that comes with new relationships. Like you’re both trying to figure out the rules of a game you created. “Yeah,” you say quietly, “I want to.”

The smile he gives you is reward enough for your hesitation. He kisses you, on the lips this time, short and sweet and a little chapped. When he pulls away, you’re both smiling. 

The drive to Eddie’s trailer is short, since you’re coming from a gas station parking lot that’s only a little down the road. The windows are down, wind making his hair even bigger, if that was possible. When you arrive, headlights shining against the front door of the trailer, Eddie pauses after putting it in park. 

“My uncle is home,” he says slowly, a tone unusual, but not unwelcoming from him. He looks over at you, almost as if he’s bracing for something. 

“Oh,” you say stupidly, because that’s the first thing that comes out. You’ve never met his uncle, despite having heard a handful of stories about him from Eddie. “Is that okay?”

He nods, then shrugs. “Yeah I just.. wanted you to know. Just in case you thought we were gonna be alone.”

You decide he’s being a bit silly as Eddie pulls open for you both. You’ve been here a couple times, for afterschool hangouts and on the weekends. You’re actually more surprised that you haven’t met Wayne already.

“Wayne?” Eddie calls out, dragging out his name dramatically. “I’m home.” 

As you step deeper into the trailer, its familiar scent wafts into your nose; motor oil, cologne, and a little bit of cigarettes. You hear before you see a sitcom playing quietly on the small tv, and that’s when you see Wayne. He’s slumped on the lumpy couch, a beer in his hand resting on his thigh. He looked exhausted, but you don’t miss the softness in his eyes as he looks at Eddie; then his eyes land on you. He wasn’t an old man, despite his graying hair and even grayer beard. 

Eddie holds out a hand behind him, urging you forward gently. His hand moves up to rest where your neck and shoulder meet, giving you a comforting squeeze. He introduces you, saying your name like it’s the cure for some disease and he’s proud to show it off.

“Hello,” You say, giving him a smile that you hope doesn’t look as shy as you feel. Your heartbeat pumps in your ears, palms a bit slick with sweat. “It’s nice to meet you.”

After a moment, Wayne smiles at you; you get the impression that this isn’t something he does very often. He tells you to sit, offering you food or a drink; the only reason you decline is because you’re sure that he’d made Eddie to get up and get it for you. 

Wayne isn’t a quiet man, you realize. Not shy either, he’s able to hold conversation and eye contact, and asks you questions about school and your family. It’s Eddie that’s being quiet, a rare occurrence that usually only happens when he’s upset, overwhelmed, or he’s busy watching something. Or someone. The latter, you figure, is the reason for right now. Why he’s sat on the armchair diagonally from you and Wayne, not saying much. You catch his eye every once in a while, but he just smiles at you. Like he’s exactly where he wants to be. 

Wayne’s voice fades in the background as Eddie’s gaze lingers, studying the way you sit on his couch, feet tucked beneath you, hands curled in your lap. He can tell you’re still a little nervous, sitting in his space with his family, but everytime he smiles at you like that, you’re reminded why you’re here. Why you’re doing this for that boy, the one with a loud laugh, gentle hands, and silver rings. When you catch Eddie’s eye again, he doesn’t say or do anything. Like this, right here, is all he wants. 

criticism is welcome as long as it’s kind ✮⋆˙

i’m very new to writing ✮⋆˙

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

The Fight

Older Eddie x Reader. reader is mid to late twenties, and Eddie is thirty-nine.

You and Eddie get into your first big fight and aren't speaking, work is terrible, and you're running a fever and coming down with a cold.

❤️

"I'm not fucking speaking to you when you're being a brat. I don't know what is up with you today but I'm sick of it"

It wasn't really like you and Eddie to argue much but earlier you had gotten into an argument and the two of you were still not speaking.

You were being a brat, you felt off all day and had wrongly snapped at Eddie when he asked if you were feeling alright, the argument escalated from there and the both of you said stupid things.

Now it was radio silence between the two of you.

Anxiously you head to bed only to find him turned away from you, avoiding talking and big space between you, usually you fall asleep wrapped up in Eddie's arms but that wasn't going to happen tonight.

"Eddie?" You murmur softly but there's no response, he isn't asleep but he's not talking either.

Blinking back tears you get into the bed and burrow into the covers, it takes you longer to fall asleep than normal and when you do you're still tossing and turning, shivery one minute then hot then next.

Now you have woken up with a bad headache, and Eddie isn't there. He has left medicine and a glass of water on the bedside table but you wish he was here and holding you close, you feel terrible and just want him with you.

When you try to call into work your boss is a dick and won't let you have time off. He's ranting on the phone so you take the medicine and water and bundle up in warm clothes.

Work is a nightmare. It's a double shift that Austin can't get cover for and you're struggling to get through it. Austin is his usual "cheery" self and even though he can see you're sick he's still a dick.

On top of that, you haven't heard from Eddie and that is making you anxious. Do you text him first? He's super busy at work today so you don't know if he will reply or even if he will if he's still mad at you.

Nearing the end of your shift, you're tired and aching all over, you're pretty sure you have a fever. It's making you irritable and you have to bite your tongue when Austin is moaning about yet another thing.

Thankfully all is calm in the store and Austin leaves you in peace for the last half hour as you tidy up and get things ready to lock up.

It's so quiet that you rest just for a minute but that minute ends up being ten and you're jerked away by Austin.

There are cups to clean in the staff room which he's too busy to do and once again you bite your tongue and get on with the job.

You're tired, dizzy and really need to sleep so your reflexes aren't the best and one of the cups drops out of your shaking hands, it nicks your skin and stings harshly. Fuck.

"For fuck sake, you better clean that shit up, can't you do anything without fucking up?" Austin snaps and you freeze at this, heart pounding. You open your mouth to retort but nothing comes out.

"It was an accident" you manage to say but he's not listening and muttering expletives, well muttering them so loud that you can hear but quiet to anyone else.

It's a relief when the shift ends and you head back to Eddie's. Your hand is throbbing and everything that's happened during the last day has you close to tears.

Eddie is home when you get it and waiting on the couch, his expression anxious but it clears when he sees you.

You really don't want to argue again, you're so tired and sore at this point. "Where were you?" he asks softly and you slip your jacket off, desperate to change out of your clothes and get in a relaxing bath or shower.

"Austin sprung a double shift on me...what is it Eds?" He's gazing at you in panic.

"You're bleeding" he's up at once and taking your hand in his, eyeing the cut worriedly and then rushing to get the first aid kit. Shit you didn't think it was that bad.

"I dropped a cup" you explain and Eddie's eyebrows knit in anger. "Oh yeah, what did that dickhead of a boss of yours say about that?" he tenderly cleans your wound and bandages it up.

"Oh, the usual, insults and yelling" You sigh and vow that you really need to look for a better job. Eddie growls low in his throat and presses a kiss to your head then pauses, presses his palm to your forehead and swears.

"Fuck, you're burning up. He seriously let you work like this!" He's fuming and you soothe him.

"It's okay, I just need to sleep" You close your eyes barely being able to keep them open and resting your head on Eddie's chest. He's still tense but softens when you nuzzle into his chest.

"Hurts" you sigh and he swallows as he holds you close to him, you're dozing in and out in his arms as he carries you to bed and helps you out of your clothes.

"You're shivering, do you want to go for a shower baby?" That sounds like heaven and you agree, then begin sneezing.

The warm water is heaven on your aching bones and Eddie joins you, wraps his arms around you and holds you close to him.

"Why didn't you say you were feeling so shitty? Is this why you were so grumpy yesterday?" he caresses your cheek and then leaves soft kisses on your neck as you nod.

"Yeah, I was bratty though" you mumble and desperately just want your bed and maybe a few more cuddles from Eddie.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart. I've felt like shit all day about arguing with you. I wanted to talk to you and apologise when I got home from work, shit I thought you were mad when you didn't come straight here after your shift but it was that dickhead boss of yours keeping you"

"I'm sorry too Ed's" he kisses you, holding the kiss for a few seconds but his smile fades when your lip wobbles. Being sick always makes you feel emotional and out of sorts.

"I could kick Austin's ass for having you work like this. He's probably made you even worse and I swear if catch that prick anytime soon, he's going to get his balls ripped off for yelling at you" he mutters under his breath a few choice words and it makes you giggle.

Eddie's arms wrap around you and he presses soft kisses over your forehead. "I'd do anything for you, I love you so much, you know that princess. I'm sorry for being a jerk" he kisses you until you're laughing again and beaming at his goofy antics.

Unfortunately, the giggling erupts into a coughing fit and Eddie patiently helps you out of the shower and as you dry off, he finds your comfiest pjs which you change into and feel yourself relax for the first time today, even if you do feel like shit.

Your nose is all stuffy and you must look a mess but Eddie stares at you like you're the most beautiful thing in the world to him.

"Beautiful, I love these PJs" he toys with them and you snort. These are your favourite PJs and a little ratty, not sexy at all.

"Liar" you tease and he holds you close to him, "You're going to get sick too if you keep this up" you warn him and he shrugs unbothered.

"Don't give a fuck, need to make sure my princess is okay. I'm gonna get you some water and more flu meds, maybe some soup because you need to eat something"

Eddie makes the soup that his uncle made for him when he was sick, chicken soup and little stars. It's very sweet and delicious, he seems less anxious once you've eaten and had some meds and fluids.

"I'll call Austin tomorrow for you and you are going to rest, Brian can cover my shift, he owes me anyway and we'll just relax and do nothing, make sure you're all better" That sounds good, to be honest, you do feel a lot better but it would be nice to just rest and catch up on sleep.

The rest of the night is spent in Eddie's arms with his own brand of special medicine, kisses and cuddles to chase the cold away.

❤️

[take-everything-you-can]

Does anyone want a sneak peek at a friend to enemies to lovers Eddie x Reader one shot I'm working on ? ?????????

[hotwritergf]

Soft touches. Eddie Munson x reader. Fluff. Blurb.

🍯 You had your face nestled into Eddie’s chest, the material of his shirt tucked up under your nose. Breathing in the smell of his cologne is sending you to sleep softly. His hands find your sides, rubbing his fingers up and down them so innocently. You can’t help but wriggle around under his touch, this wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have with your boyfriend. Sure he’d find out sooner or later but it was too embarrassing for you, once he does find out you’re sure he’ll be relentless with the information. Your ‘shameful’ secret was that you’re ticklish. Really ticklish.

You’ve seen Eddie attack his friends with the playful act before, watching on at the onslaught you were blushing the entire time, wanting the ground to swallow you up. You also knew that he was ticklish, Steve had wrestled him to the ground and squeezed at his hips plenty of times. Even signalling to you and saying ‘If he ever gets mouthy, just give him a squeeze.’ Eddie looked back at you and waved his finger as a warning, you’d never been brave enough to tickle him. Mainly because you knew he’d try it back.

You didn’t hate being tickled like everyone else seems to, but it made you shy. Something about it made you flustered, maybe the loss of control or the fact you were rendered to giggles and squeals. But deep down, it was because you knew you liked it.

Eddie notices you squirming under his touch, he pinches at your sides playfully. Experimenting with his new discovery, he drags his nails up and down your sides. Squeezing at your hips just like you’d seen happen to him before.

“Sensitive, sweetheart?” He coos down at you, trapping your arms under his knees so you can’t move. Eddie laughs along with you as he pokes up and down your ribcage. You erupt into laughter, twisting and wriggling from side to side as he continues his attack and you enjoy the moment of closeness with your boyfriend.

“Maybe.” You respond with a smile, lifting your head up to see him smirking down at you. With a gentle stroke to your hair he whispers, “I’m gonna getcha.” His voice teasing and soft, it’s playful. Innocent and carefree, something you crave during the constant stresses of life. It brings you out of the anxiety and into the moment. As much into the moment as you can be as you’re gasping for air through your laughter as he finds the soft spot on your neck.

You’re babbling, begging him to stop. “I’m barely touching you baby! You’re so ticklish.” He laughs along with you as teases as his nails softly scratch behind your ears. Looking down at you, Eddie notices the pink shade that’s flushed across your face, withdrawing both of his hands from your neck and replacing them onto the small of your back and kisses your head.

“Too cute. Can’t believe I haven’t done that sooner. This is valuable manipulation material!” His smile beams down at you, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing he’d found your dirty little secret if you could see that smile each time you were tormented by him. 🍯

[str4ngergirlw0rld]

eddie munson calling you the weirdest nicknames the longer you guys are dating:

“honey pass me the salt”

“baby , r u okay?”

“cheeseball come here”

“stinky please help me with this”

“cinnamon apple please stop being so stressed”

“aw grumpy , its okay”

“sweet apple cider vanilla cheesecake coconut supreme , lets go on a date”

[asmutwriter]

My Sweet Valentine (Eddie x f!reader)

DESCRIPTION: You and Eddie spend a romantic (and steamy) Valentines day together

A/N - I wrote this in the morning and I have yet to proof read it but I hope its good and I hope you enjoy it

WORD COUNT: 2012

One Shots / 'Welcome to the Freak Show'

WARNINGS: established relationship, fluff, smut, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, swearing, pet names (sweetheart, queen/king, love)

DISCLAIMERS

This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

This story is based after the events of my series 'Welcome to the Freak Show' (a Stranger Things fan fiction) which I'd recommend reading before or after reading this

Not been proof reader

"Eddie where are we going?" You tilt your head to look at him. His hands on the steering wheel as he drives to an unknown destination. He smiles. Shooting a quick glance towards you.

"You'll find out soon". He tkes a hand off the wheel. Resting it onto your thigh. You bring a hand down. Sqeeuzing the top of his. He had come and picked you up straight after work. Thinking he was driving you home. Having missed the turning back to your small house completely you have been sat in the car for half an hour now.

He tilts his head. Turning the wheel. "Here we are". HE speaks. Pulling the vehicle up to a motel. Confsuion filling your body as you look at the building. HE gets out the car. A light jog aroudn the front of the vehicle. Opening your door. HE outsetched his hand. Taking it as you hop down from his car. He shuts the door behind you before taking your hand once again. Starting to walk towards one of the rooms.

"Dont we need a key for the room?" You say. He simply shakes his head. Going into the pocket of his leather jcket and taken out a key already. Unlocking the door and pushing it open. He lets you walk before him. Turning the light on.

Your eyes smile as you see a choclate love heart made of smaler chcolates laid onto the bed. In the centre of the heart was a bucnh of unlit secnted candles and a box of rose petals. Plus a pink bottle of bubble bath. You bring your hands up. Covering your gleedilled face as you look. Eddie comes behidn you. His hands resting onto your hips. Kissing your shoulder before resting his chin onto it.

"Happy Valentines day my queen".

"Munson you've outdone yourself". He gives a small chuckle. Lifting is hands slightly as you turn to face him. WRapping your arms around his neck as his arms snake their way around your waist. Feeling his fingers lightly trace up and down your spine.

"Shall I start running you a bath?" You bite your bottom lip. Giving a nod as you smile. Brnging him in for a long kiss before pulling away. HE smiles as you move from his embrace. Running his tongue over his lip as he goes to the athroom. Hearing the bath start to run.

You go to the bed. Pickingup the bubble bath and roses. Joinging him in the room. He sits on the edge. Hand gently in the water. Swooshing it around as he checks the temperautre. He takes the two items from you. Dispening them both in equal parts. Thats when you notice the candles. He picks one up. Starting to light the obscene amount of candles dotted around the bathtub. You smile. The room being filled with delicious fragrance. He turns to you. Standing up as he gives you a smile. His hand going to the bottom of your shirt.

"May I?" Ypu give a nod. Your eyes staying on his soft ones. Never breaking the eye contact as he starts to disrobe you. Throwing your clothes onto the flroo. Once you are naked before him your hands go to his shirt. Gently lifting it up and over his head. Undoing the belt in the front of his jeans. Quickly becoming naked with you.

He leans over. Stopping the water filling up the bath as it reaches a certain point. He steos in. Holding his hand out. You take it. Getting in with him. Letting him sit down first. You get in between his legs. Leaning back against him. Shutting your eyes as you let the sense of bliss fill your body. His arms around your middle as you let your head fall back onto his shoulder. Your hands coming up and holding his arms. Thumb gently stroking over his biceps.

He kisses your shoulder. Pulling you closer to him. Resting his head onto you as he too shuts his eyes. The pleasuee of each other company filling both your minds as you sit in the bath together.

You lose track of time. Unsure of how long youve been in there. But very aware of the slow descreease of temperature. He notices too. Feeling your body give a small shiver. He moves. Getting ut and wrapping a towel around his middle before he once again holds his hand towards you. You step out. Dropping his gesture as he grabs another towel. WRapping it around your shoulders. The softness of his action and fbric making you feel warm again.

Holding the towel around yorself as you look up at him. He smiles. Taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he rests a soft kiss to your forehead. Pulling back you give a soft pout. He chuckles softly. "What is it my love?"

"You stopped issing me". He gives a chuckle. Leaning down as he plants a kiss to your lips this time. Pulling back about an inch. His deep brown meeting yours.

"Better?" You nod. Brushng forward so your lips connect again. His hand go to yorur frame. Holding you close. Your hands move from your towel. Letting it drop as they wrap around his neck once again. His hands now coming into contact with your bare skin. He smiles into your muth. Hands going down to grip your bare ass. Squeezing the flesh. A soft humm emitting from your lips. Deepening the kiss. It soon becoming a lot more heated.

A hand travels from your ass up your stomach. Resting over your boob. Massaging the flesh. A satsified mon escapes your lips. Feeling the arousal start to form between your legs as his hand attacks the flesh. His thumb and foreginger gently squeezing the nipple causing you to gasp. Rolling the sentivie bud between them. Your kiss being broekn by a gaso turning to a moan as you try and move closer to him. Thighs pushing toegther.

"Please Eddie" You whsiper.

"What do you need?"

"You. Just you". He smiles. His hand going from your breast downwards. Once againtraveling ove ryour stomach before reaching between the two of you. His digits finding that space ebtween your legs. He knew your body very well so it took no time for him to find your clit. Gentle as he pushes his finger up and dowon onto it. "Fuck!" You hide your ace in his chest. Hands balling as they rest either side of your head.

Your hips creating a steady rythm with his finger as you grind yourself against the digit. It doesnt take long for your orgasm to build up. His fingers were skilled. Thats something that made this so fun. "Ed-" you breath out in a mona. Your brething growing more rapid as you orgasm gets closer. "Please?"

"Let it out sweetheart" He grnats you permission. You let the wave of your high hit you. Your moans muffled into his chest as you grip his hand between your thighs. His finger working its way through your orgasm. As best as it could anyway given the tight circamstances.

Your high slowly disapates. Lossing your leg grip around his hand. He moves it out. You lift your hea to look at him. Seeing his place the wet digit into his lips. "You always taste so sweet". Only able to give a tiny moan in repsonse. Feeling a light blush come over your cheeks at his actin and words. He moves. Mouth against your ear as he whispers. "Go lay on the bed for me". Your heart skips. Quickly darting to go to the bedroom of the motel. The choclates still sprawled over the plush item. You scoop them up in your hands. Placing them into the draw in the bedside cabinet.

You sit onto the edge of the bed. Your eyes falling onto Eddies as he enters the room. Towel still wround his waist. But not hiding the obvious erection formed underneath the item. His hands go to the twoel. Unwrapping it from his waist. Letting it drop to the floor. Leaving him fully naked in front of you. You take in a breath. Eyes going to his hrd on before going back to his eyes. Biting your lip as you await his ext words.

"Lie down. Open your legs". You do as he says. Lying your body down. Bringing your legs as wide as they will go. Shivering as the cool air hits your hot core. "Fuck". He mutters. Feeling his eyes scan your body. "Youre so beuatiful". The blush creeps back up your neck and to your cheeks. You want to shut your legs out of embaresment but hes already there. Hands on your knees as he keeps them spread before him.

His body going between your thighs. You reach your hand down. He takes your hand in his. Interlocking the fingers with yours. His other hand moves from your thigh too. Taking himself in his hand. Feeling him gently start to puch into your needy hole. Your hand tightens around his as he puchses into you fully. Your mouth dropping as he fills you. Eyes shutting at the wonderful feeling. He stops once hes fully settled. Leaning down he plants a peck to your lips. Your free hand going to his cheek at the exchange. His hand not holding yours goes to your hip. Standing tall as he starts to slowly move himself in and out.

A drawn out mon leaves your lips at the pace. The nails of your fingers dig into the back of his hands. Notnthat he cares. HIf anything he enjoys the small shot of pain going through his hand at your vice likegrip. His eyes go to where the two of you meet. Watching your slick cover himself as he draws out of you before slamming himself back in. Each thrust making you grow louder. His eyes go to your face. Your eyes fluttered shut. Your mouth in a state of awe as soft wimpers and moans escape past your lips. The sight alone could make him bust. You were the most beautiful thing hes ever seen.

His hand moves from your hip. Thumb gong to where you meet each other. Finding that small bundle of nerves. You jump at the touch. Your noises getting louder as he starts to massgae his thumb onto your bud. Tightening around him. "Shit" he mutters. Shutting his eyes momanterily before forcing them open again. Feeling you get closer to your high. He wants to see your face as you cum. And he can tell youre close. The grip you hve on both his hand and his cock mkes im very aware of that.

"Eddie". You moan out. Managing to open your eyes to see his. Dark. Lustfilled. "Close".

"Let me feel you". His voice deep. SEnding a vibration through your body. Going sraight to your core at his tone. Your orgasm hitting you hard. Throwing your head back as yu feel your eyes roll.

"Fuuuck" you draw out. Your cunt squeezing his length. He gives a grunt at the feeling. Pushing his hips into you fully. Cumming into you. You give a smile at the sensation. Feeling his hot liquid fill you up oh so nicely. He leans down. Resting his hed into your shoulder. One hand stll attacthed to his. The other comes up and strokes his long locks of hair. Both of you lyig content in the sex filled air.

"I love you so much". He mumbles into your neck. Kissing it gently. You humm. WRapping your legs around his middle. Using your heels to push him further into you.

"I love you too". He comes away. Eyes meeting yours as they fill with a beauty only he can possess. Your hand goes from his hair to his cheek. Gently kissing him. His free arm resing by your torso to keep himself uprgiht. You move away. Brushing the hair away from his features as you take him in. Whispering as you admire him. "My king".

TAGS

@karma2223 @fknemily @sammararaven​​ @munson-fixation

[punkrockmlchael]

For Eddie my beloved!! Journal + Tattoo + French Fries

nsfw or sfw whatever speaks to you my friend!! <3

Masterlist for 100 Follower Celebration!

Thank you for the request! Here's Eddie being Eddie I feel. I don't know, this just felt very Eddie coded to me. Also, tattoo artist Eddie lives rent free in my head. RENT FREE. (Word Count: 374)

Prompts: French Fries, Journal and Tattoo ; Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

“What are you working on?” You asked Eddie as you walked into the kitchen with a bag of McDonald’s in your hands. 

You set the bag on the table and tried to peek over your boyfriend's shoulder as he sat at the table with his journal open in front of him. 

“Hm?” He asked, quickly covering the book with his hands. “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me,” you teased, opening the bag of food. You pulled out the contents and placed them on the table in an array, taking a seat across from him. 

“It’s nothing, darling, I promise,” he replied, reaching for a french fry. He nibbled on it before picking his pencil back up, moving it quickly across the paper in front of him. You raised an eyebrow but shrugged, starting to eat your own dinner while your boyfriend did… who knows what. That was pretty common, actually. Eddie was always doing something random. Drawing little doodles, sketching new tattoo ideas, writing lyrics, coming up with song ideas or song titles he loved but needed to write still. 

That man just seemed to do everything and nothing all at once. 

And that journal. That was like his favorite thing ever. It was like his most prized possession. 

He scratched the pencil across the paper one last time before he smiled and looked up at you. “I’m finished!” He beamed, grabbing some more of his fries.

“With what?” You asked, looking up at him.

“With your new tattoo,” he replied, sliding the journal your way.

“With my new tattoo?” You asked, looking down at the journal. Eddie had sketched a beautiful rose with some thorns on the stem.

“Yeah, you mentioned wanting a new tattoo, and I think this would look sick on you.” Eddie smiled, glancing at the journal in front of you. “You like it?” You smiled, looking over the sketch. 

“I love it,” you replied, examining the sketch. “Think you can do it for me after dinner?”

“Absolutely, baby,” Eddie smiled. “I’ll grab my tattoo gun and we can get started. Where do you want it?”

“Ribcage?”

“Fuck, that’s going to look so sick on you. I can’t wait to ink you up, baby.” He smirked, winking at you.

eddie tag list: wanna be added? comment + let me know! @keeryhours ; @the-witty-pen-name ; @swiftieintheupsidedown ; @hawkinsmafia

[moonydoodlez]

eddie eating literally any vegetable for once and exploding

-🕸️

I'm Dying

Pairing: Eddie x F!reader

Warnings: eddie being dramatic

Word count: 383

Note: i was going thru my drafts on tumblr and found this so enjoy ig :)

“Sit down for a minute wont ya” You laugh as Eddie continuously walks around the kitchen whilst you try to cook dinner for the two of you. 

Of course he didn’t listen and continued pacing around as he watched you. He was rambling on about god knows what, you had lost track a while ago.

“How about you be a taste tester?” You asked spinning around to face him. This clearly got his attention because he was now standing right in front of you. 

He watched you carefully dip the spoon into the stew. “Blow” You demanded as his eyes widened looking down at you suggestively. You rolled your eyes moving some of the curls out of his face before aggressively sticking the spoon into his mouth. 

His face distorted into disgust as he looked down at you trying not to say anything. “Oh yeah, very good,” he says, clearly lying. “Did you forget I hate broccoli?” He asks dramatically, clutching his heart. “Oh how could the women I love forget” He declares spinning around. 

You shake your head at his antics. “I didn't forget.. I added them so you don't die. You need to eat your veggies”.

He glared at you shaking his head. Again you stood there silently as he clutched his heart. “Oh god” He groaned as he fell to the floor. “You've killed me.. You finally have killed me” He says flailing around before not moving anymore and his whole body went limp. 

After a few minutes he rose from the dead. “I just died and you just watched” He pouted sitting on the floor. “You watched the love of your life die and you don’t care” He continues. 

“It’s almost like I can still hear him” You joked wiping away fake tears as you stirred the food before turning off the stove to let it cool.

One minute you were standing and the next you weren’t. He grabbed your hips and pulled you onto the floor and sat you on his lap. “The food really was good though” he explained before leaving a kiss on your lips. The taste of mint gum and cigarettes taking over your mouth.

“I know.. I am an amazing cook” You joke before wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him slowly.

Masterlist Eddie Masterlist

[icanwriteitblindfolded]

Written in the Stars Eddie X (Fem) Reader

Summary: soulmates, astrology, and tarot were all silly in your mind. You scoffed at the idea of someone being out there for you and the “universe” having a special purpose for you. There’s no such thing and it’s all a hoax, right? Well you’re not sure anymore and you have to find out, even if it means bringing your boyfriend along for the ride.

*************************************

Slow burn, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, reader is not from Hawkins and bonds with Eddie and his gang. Just two idiots who don’t know they’re falling in love. Eventual smut but it’s going to be a long and slow build. ❤️‍🔥

*************************************

* Song being referenced is One by Metallica.*

*************************************

Part Thirteen:

*************************************

“Wow!” Eddie exclaimed. You’d taken over the driving duties at the last rest stop and Eddie sat in the passenger seat. When you both reached the skyline that used to occupy your everyday life he perked up. “Wow!” “Have anything else to add Munson?” He giggled and looked around the streets to observe the crowds. People from all walks of life gathered and watched your car drive through, Eddie drawing attention as he gawked in amazement. “I’m really showing I’m not from here, aren’t I?” You nodded and giggled as he continued to watch the world you knew well pass before him.

“I don’t blame you for being pissed to leave this place. And for Hawkins!” He groaned and slammed his hand on his knee. “Eh, it’s not so bad.” “How can you say that? Do you see the places I could play out here? We past seven bars already with an open mic for any acts! I can’t even get the guys to leave the area because the trip is too far. What does Hawkins have at all?” You smirked and took ahold of his hand. “You.” He blushed and pushed your hand back to the wheel. “Okay, very cute.” You smiled as your car snaked through the streets and parked near the psychic’s shop, it wouldn’t be for another two hours to get the reading, two hours to kill.

“So down the road is another mall, it’s a bit larger than Starcourt but we can do that if you’d like?” His eyes lit up and he jumped in the seat. “Yes! Do they have a music store there?” You nodded, it’s been a few months but you remember the place well enough. You started the car and headed out to the mall.

Eddie’s eyes became the size of saucers when you both walked through the doorway to the store. Guitars lined the wall as did small ukuleles, bass guitars, amps and cables. On the other side was the records they sold as well. Eddie picked you up in his arms and carried you to the back where they kept the metal music. “Hi, welcome to Music Emporium. What would you like today?” Eddie grinned unable to speak from the pure euphoric surroundings. “Um my boyfriend wants to know if you have the latest Metallica album?” The guy nodded. “Absolutely, would you like to hear a few of the songs? We’ve got a listening booth in the back here.” Eddie nodded and pulled you with him as you both followed the guy. He handed Eddie the record and closed the curtains. “This is the fucking coolest!” You smiled and placed the album on the turntable and put the headphones on Eddie’s head. He smiled softly before letting his moves show and mimicked another air guitar. Eddie removed the headphones placing them on you, a soft guitar melody played over, more somber than any of their previous songs. The rhythmic hook repeated as Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist.

“You know, this is kind of a nice spot?” Eddie buried his face in your neck and kissed your collarbone. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as the song came to the chorus. “Eddie, I don’t think this is a good place for that?” He laced his fingers together around your stomach and pulled you closer to him. “I don’t know? Music, the fact no one can see us right now, we’re alone…” A purposeful cough alerted Eddie he wasn’t entirely alone with you. You both jolted and looked to find the employee with his arms crossed. “This isn’t the changing room at Penny’s folks, take that downstairs.” Eddie blushed and let go of you as you both filed out of the sound booth. Eddie grabbed the cassette of the album, a pack of guitar strings and picks before cashing out. The girl behind the counter had Raven hair and a few piercings, she eyed Eddie like he was a delicious entrée. You cleared your throat when she leaned on the counter when he slid the money to her. Eddie thanked her as you both left.

You laced your arm through his as you both left and walked to search the nearby shops. Nothing stood out for you both, though Eddie did linger in a shop selling used comics because they had a cool Dungeon Master screen he wanted, but it was two hundred dollars. “Sacrilege!” Eddie shouted and you looked at the clock in the food court, only forty five minutes left before you and he would return to Madam Nero’s. “We’ve got to go now.” He sighed and followed you out to the car. Eddie looked through his bag and popped the tape in. Skipping to the song you both were listening to back at the shop.

The song filled the car with its melancholic lyrics, of feeling lost and alone. Eddie ejected the tape and put it back in the bag. You sighed feeling the heaviness of the situation at hand. “I’m being ridiculous aren’t I?” He shrugged and looked back to the street beside his window. “I know I am Eddie. I’m trying to figure out if… if soulmates are a real thing. Or if you and I will actually work. I’m basing everything in our relationship on this.” Eddie started to gnaw at his thumb, the nail was already short but he was biting it to nothing.

“F/N. I don’t know much about this stuff myself, and I’m not great with relationships either. All I know is I like you and I will try to make this work. If you’re ever unhappy with me or our relationship as a whole just say it.” You sighed as you parked the car in front of the shop. The open sign glowing in Eddie’s face. He turned to look at you, motioning you to head inside and let the powers of fate and destiny take over. You opened the door to head inside, Eddie followed close behind.

****************************************************

The shop still had that generic look it had two years prior. Eddie took a seat beside the door as you made your way through the beaded curtain. There she was; except her hair was shorter and out of the silk scarf, she wore a Notre Dame sweatshirt and her cheeks were more hallowed. “Were you F/N?” You nodded and took the seat, feeling guilt plague your heart. She smiled and reached out to your hand, giving it a slight squeeze. “It’s okay dear. I know I may not look like the typical person to do this, but I’m sure we can help you.” You nodded, a stench of medicine on her breath, you knew that smell well, your father had it when he went in for chemotherapy.

“Now, what would you like to know?” You nodded and calmed yourself as best you could. “I saw you two years ago, and you told me something. I just need to know if what you said, has come true?” She shrugged. “Depends, can you enlighten me a bit?” You nodded and looked back through the curtain, you could see Eddie sitting in the chair by the door, pursing his lips as he waited. “You said I’d meet someone, they’d be very special… I think I’ve met him and I just want to know if it’s actually the guy you saw?” She nodded and stood up, a cane beside the table you’d never seen, she wobbled as you tried to help but she brushed you away. She reached the curtain and opened it to look at Eddie. “Young man, get your ass back here. I haven’t got all day!” Eddie scurried to his feet and walked through the door. He too attempted to help her to her seat but she waved him to a chair beside you, before you lowered herself back into hers.

“So, you want to know if this boy is the one? Or if he’s meant to be with you?” You nodded and Eddie wrapped his arms around your shoulder. Madam Nero looked at this and smiled, shuffling the cards and laying out three as before. She smiled at the outcome and looked at you both. “Darling, I’d say you’ve got a good man here.” You leaned over to Eddie and felt your body relax. “And a good relationship is just beginning. You’re both very much in love, but you don’t know if you are right for each other.” You nodded. “Stop worrying. Just let yourselves feel what you want, you love him, and he loves you.” Eddie pondered at those remarks and looked over to the cards. They were nothing but blank index cards this time.

“Wait! You didn’t even read the correct cards!” She smirked and tapped his hand. “I don’t need to read any. Why did you feel the need to come all this way? Are you afraid you’re not right for each other?” You nodded and Eddie looked at you with that pained expression. “Stop feeling that you’re not good enough! Both of you! I’ve seen my fair share of people come through that door with a partner and I read what they want me to. But I’ve learned something; sometimes it’s best to tell people what they truly need to know. These cards could damage your relationship more than they could help. I don’t sense anything bad between you two, in fact I can sense a deep passionate love. I don’t need cards to see that you two are a match.” You felt yourself sobbing and Eddie pulling you closer to him.

“Please.” She urged, reaching to both of you. “Go home and love each other, don’t fret what the universe has in store. I think it did the right thing with bringing you two together, whether that was foreseen or not; I think you were meant to be.” You wiped a tear away and stood up with Eddie. Pulling a twenty out of your pocket when she shoved your hand away. “I didn’t actually do anything. No charge for that. Just enjoy the time you both have.” You nodded as you and Eddie walked out the door, you glanced back at her one last time, feeling a surge of guilt and sadness. You’d wasted her time, and Eddie was also probably feeling jilted by your actions.

He opened the door as he let you out and you walked to the car turning to face him. “Eddie I’m so…” His lips were on yours in an instant, hungrily devouring the breath from your body and pinning you against the car. You pulled him away for a moment, his eyes fixed on you, lustful and burning. “What was that for?” “I’m going to enjoy the time I have with you. Like she said. I won’t waste another minute, I just want you.”

You felt the knot in your stomach growing and Eddie’s kiss was intoxicating. He found your neck and sucked hard, a bruise surely forming under the pressure from his lips. “Not yet, I just want to go back home.” He sighed and nodded opening the door for you. You climbed into the seat and looked back at him, a small frown on your lips. “I do have one more stop to make before we go. And I need to do it quickly.” Eddie nodded as you started the car heading into the suburbs.

****************************************************

You brushed the dirt off the stone, it had a few cracks in the concrete and lettering but still looked like it did when it was new. Eddie stood beside you as you placed a simple gathering of flowers you had picked from the field nearby on the patch of dirt. You’d not intend to make this stop, and that made the guilt in your stomach over the last several hours feel even worse.

Eddie wrapped his arm around your waist when you stood up. “How did he…?” “Cancer. When I was twelve. We had no idea, everything seemed normal. He came to a play I was in, complaining about a headache but my mom wrote it off. Just told him to take some Tylenol and he’d be fine. But…” You shivered as Eddie tightened his grip to hold you closer, that touch letting you know he’d be there. “He collapsed when the intermission came. I was told to leave and we were being taken to the hospital. I remember the tubes in his arms and legs, he looked like he was a robot, not my dad. When the doctor said cancer… I knew. I knew it was all over. He may have been buried six months later, but… I made peace with his death long before they placed him here.” You cried into Eddie’s chest. “God I’m a terrible person.”

Eddie rubbed your back and pulled you tighter to his body. You shook uncontrollably and he smoothed your hair, cooing in your ear and shushing your cries. “You’re not. You’re not a terrible person. You knew, you just knew. Rather than deny the inevitable, you accepted it. You accepted that he’d be gone.” “I didn’t spend much time with him, I couldn’t.” He nodded and placed a kiss within your hair. “It was hard. I wish I were there; I could’ve been there for you.” You snorted. “You know, dad would’ve loved you?” “Oh yeah?” You nodded and looked up at Eddie, he gently wiped the tears from your eyes and brushed your hair back. “Yeah. You make me happy. He’d love that.” Eddie smirked and looked over to the headstone. “That’s all?” You nodded and collapsed into Eddie’s chest. “You do make me happy, and I love you.” He brushed your hair again, cradling your head against his chest.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this. Wasted your time.” He pulled your head away from his chest and leaned down to give a soft kiss. You blushed under that gentle caress of his lips, especially the location you both were in. “That’s okay. You wanted to know. You know now, and I know. Let’s take it one step at a time. Who knows what the universe has in store for us. But like the lady said, let’s not waste it.” You nodded as you and Eddie left the cemetery, his arm clutching you closer than ever before, and your mind and heart at ease finally getting the closure you needed.

****************************************************

@dreamerjj

@micheledawn1975

@3rd-conchord

@foreveranexpatsposts

[wonderlandwalker]

Patron Saint of hellfire

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 / 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: eddie munson x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1k 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Eddie treats you like you're the only virtue worth holding, but it's his vices you're trying to bring to light 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: basically porn with minimal plot, I swear I tried to synonymise more but then i gave up, again, i cannot reiterate how little plot this has, it's just me being self indulgent

𝐚/𝐧: the grammer checker keeps saying my writing lacks clarity but i'm done trying to fix it

The air between you is thick, charged—every molecule laced with the scent of him, of you, sweat and salt and something darker, something desperate. A hunger that doesn’t just gnaw at the bones but devours them, relentless, the kind that lingers long after the body is sated, etched into the skin like an emblem. You move with deliberate slowness, savouring the way his fingers dig into your thighs—not hard enough to bruise, never hard enough to bruise — not when he treats your body like something holy, but enough to make your nerves hum with the promise of more. His grip is worship and restraint in equal measure, caught between devotion and destruction, the scales trembling as you teeter on the edge of it.

Every drag of him inside you is a revelation, slick and filthy, the sound obscene in the best way—a wet, rhythmic counterpoint to his ragged inhales. His breath hitches, sharp and punched-out every time you clench around him, his voice breaking around your name like it’s the only word he remembers. The gasps coil low in your stomach, molten and sweet, a live wire sparking under your complexion, setting every nerve alight. You can feel him everywhere—the heat of his body beneath yours, the way his muscles tense and tremble, the desperate roll of his pelvis as he chases friction, chases you, like he’d follow you straight into damnation if you asked.

His lips part, his gaze locked on yours, dark and fevered, like you’re the only thing left sacred in his world—like he’d carve your name into his ribs a thousand times over just to keep you looking at him like this. Like he’s already damned, and you’re the only altar he knows how to kneel at. The reverence in his touch is almost unbearable, tracing your figure like he’s memorising the shape of you, the feel of you, as if this moment might be the last one either of you gets.

And you can feel how close he is—every tendon drawn taut, his voice raw and wrecked, his hips stuttering against yours. His control unravels with every thrust, every whispered plea against your lips, his body trembling on the edge of freefall. Right as you know you’ve got him there—right as his breath fractures, his grip tightening like he’s afraid you’ll vanish—you stop.

His body jerks beneath you, a strangled groan tearing from his throat as you pull away—as you let his throbbing cock slip free, leaving him twitching, flushed and straining against nothing. His hands fly to your waist, digging into it like a lifeline, as if clinging hard enough might keep him from shattering.

You see his restraint unravelling—the muscle leaping in his jaw, the sharp hiss of breath between clenched teeth, and the tremor in his thighs where he fights to stay still. But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t take.

He just shakes, wrecked by his own want.

And it kills you.

Because you know why he hesitates. You see it in the way his throat works when he swallows, in the way his thumbs flex against you—like he’s afraid his touch alone could break you. Like if he lets go, if he gives in, he’ll ruin everything.

But that’s exactly what you want.

You want ruin. You want his control to snap, want him to forget every reason he ever had for holding back. You want his palms on you like a brand, his mouth like a confession, and his body moving with yours like there’s no tomorrow.

But he doesn’t give it to you.

He won’t.

And that’s the whole damn problem.

Dating Eddie had been… unexpectedly sweet.

Which, given his reputation, you never saw coming. The man was a walking provocation—all sharp grins and dirtier promises, the kind of bastard who’d murmur exactly what he wanted to do to you in the middle of a crowded bar just to watch your breath hitch and your thighs press together. Maybe it was wrong to admit, but you loved those wild flashes of him—the way his fists clenched when you danced just out of reach, the growl in his voice when someone looked at you a second too long.

But he always leashed it. Always.

Now? Now he was soft. Thoughtful. Devoted. And yeah, it was great—obviously. The way he traces every curve, freckle, and dip of you like you were scripture and he was learning you by heart. The way he kissed you like he could imprint his love into your bones with every swipe of his tongue. The way he’d linger, his breath ragged against your lips, his body trembling with restraint as if you’d dissolve if he pushed too hard.

Eddie treated you like something holy.

Which left you in this predicament.

Because he worshipped you—reverently—with his mouth between your thighs, savouring you like communion. With his hands cradling your face as he fucked into you, slow and deep, murmuring, "Fuck, look at you, so perfect, so good for me," like you were the answer to every prayer he’d never dared to speak. He ruined you in the gentlest ways, drawing out every gasp and shiver until you were shaking apart beneath him, until you sobbed his name like a plea.

And God, you hated how much you loved it.

Because fuck, you didn’t just want gentle. You wanted the real Eddie—the one who’d wreck you and make you thank him for it. The one who snarled curses at hecklers, who pinned you against the bathroom door at the Hideout, teeth at your throat, inhibitions drowned in cheap whisky and filth spilling from his lips. You wanted the Eddie who’d flip you onto your stomach with a growl, who’d mark your thighs with his fingerprints and your skin with his teeth, and who’d remind you—between panting, filthy kisses—that even saints fall to their knees.

And Christ, you were tired of waiting for him to figure it out.

You hadn’t planned it—not consciously, anyway. But the moment you caught that wild, desperate glint in his eyes when you pulled away—just before he could cum, leaving him gasping, his fingers knotting in your hair like he was a breath from snapping—something in you ignited.

You had to see it again.

Had to drag that spark into open air and watch it burn.

So you pushed.

Teased.

Denied.

Again and again and again—

Your hands on his belt, undoing it slowly, savouring the hitch in his breath as you never quite touched where he wanted.

Your tongue tracing the vein of his cock while precum beaded at the tip, tormenting him with the crusade.

Your body sinking onto him, just shy of where he needed you—close enough to torture, never enough to satisfy.

Eddie, ever the goddamn martyr, took it.

Every.

Fucking.

Time.

—growling, resisting, defiant, even as his body sold him out with every ragged breath, every frantic jerk of his hips. And Christ, the noises he made—guttural, wounded, your name a blasphemy on his lips, the only blessing his sinful mouth had ever known.

“C’mon, sweetheart—just this once—let me—fuck—!”

The words fracture into a gasp as you lean in, your lips grazing his jaw, just to feel him unravel—like even the phantom of your touch was enough to wreck him, like he was one frayed thread from coming apart.

And there it was: that tension, wire-tight, humming between you. His pupils drown the warm brown of his eyes, nothing left but plain hunger. His hands twitch against you—gripping, releasing, gripping again—torn between yanking you down and flipping you beneath him, between pleading and claiming.

He was breaking.

You could see it—the way his throat locked, the way his teeth sank into his lip, biting back a sob or a swear. The way his voice, usually honey-smooth when he was trying to be good for you, turned raw, ruined.

“Fuck—please.”

Close.

So close.

But not yet.

You grind down against him—just once—a slow, deliberate roll of your frame, the friction agonisingly brief. Just enough to make him hiss through clenched teeth, to wrench his head back into the pillows as his tongue catches between them, biting down hard to stifle the groan clawing up his throat. And then you still.

The pause is persecution. His body arches beneath you, every ligament locked, trembling with the effort of holding back—like the need inside him is a living thing, ravenous, threatening to swallow him whole. His hands flex at your waist, fingertips finally digging in hard enough to leave a mark, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t thrust up. Just lets out a shattered exhale, ragged and uneven.

"Eddie."  Your voice is a whisper, edged with challenge and something darker— something malecious — as you drag your nails down his chest, leaving faint, pink trails in their wake. His breath hitches, chest expanding under your touch like he’s starving for air. "You wanna cum, baby?"

His answer is a broken noise, half groan, half surrender. "Y-yeah—fuck, yeah, please—"  There’s something raw in his voice, something beyond desperation.

Fear.

The kind that lives in the hollow of his ribs, in the silence between heartbeats—the terror that if he lets go, if he snaps, he’ll ruin you. That the hunger inside him, the one gnawing at his restraint like a wild thing, will be too much. Too scorching. Too rough.

Too eager.

You can see it—the heave of his chest, the tendons in his neck pulled tight, his jaw clenched until it twitches. His hips jerk once, involuntary, before he forces them still again, a broken gasp tearing from his lips. He’s the eye of the hurricane, a storm barely contained in every frazzled breath, another battle in his endless war. It’s a brutal stalemate of muscle and bone and sheer fucking willpower, all straining against the need threatening to split him open.

And yet.

He holds.

Some stubborn, adamant part of him clings to discipline, to the dread that this is just amusement—that you’re being sardonic, that if he really lets go, if he surrenders to the itch clawing at his membrane, he’ll ruin you too.

As if you wouldn’t let him.

As if you wouldn’t beg for it.

As if you wouldn’t fucking thank him for it.

You lean down, your mouth a slow, searing brand against the shell of his ear—close enough that the slightest shift would catch flesh between your teeth. Your voice is tempered with honey and sin, each word a deliberate provocation:

"You could make me."

A shudder wrecks him—violent, full-bodied, as if lightning has scorched the words into his soul. His fingers spasm against you, and for one suspended, hungry second—you’re certain he’ll break. That the last fibre of his control will snap, and he’ll finally, finally give in.

But he doesn’t.

His restraint is maddening. Beautiful. Agonising. Every inch of him is coiled steel, a spring wound to the point of bursting, his body locked in brutal defiance. You feel the tremors wracking through him, the raw, shuddering effort of denial—of refusing to take what he craves so desperately.

And you—

You want to annihilate him.

You want to crack him open, peel back every stifled groan, and every choked plea. You want to watch him come undone, to be the flood that drags him under, the reckoning he can’t escape. You want to be divine wrath and unholy absolution, the force that burns through his resolve until nothing remains—

His heartbeat is a ferocious thing, thrashing against your palm like a caged beast—each frantic pulse a hammer strike in the fraught silence between you. The heat of him burns into your skin, his blood a fevered drum beneath your touch while the war inside him rages behind those darkened eyes. You stare at it—the fraying edges of his control, the way his breath saws through his teeth, ragged and sharp, as if he’s one whispered plea away from snapping.

Then—

Eddie breaks.

His voice is smoke and gravel, stripped raw, a growl ripped from the depths of his chest as his fist twists in your hair. The grip is brutal, sending lightning-shocks of thrilling pain searing across your scalp as he drags your gaze to his.

“Tell me you want it.”

The words are ground between his teeth, his voice trembling—not with worry, but with the sheer, splintering effort of holding back. He’s dangling over the edge, one breath away from freefall. “I need to hear you fucking say it.”

And you—

You don’t hesitate. Not a heartbeat. Not a flicker of doubt. Your answer is an abdication — an inauguration.

“Take me.”

His restraint doesn’t just crash—it fucking implodes.

A low, guttural sound tears from him, the last vestiges of his control collapsing inward like a star giving way to gravity. Eddie doesn’t just fall—he erupts, demolishing every boundary, every hesitation, with a groan that vibrates through your core. And, God, you want to drown in it—in the raw, unfiltered flood of him, in the way his need devours you like a riptide, dragging you under, deeper, deeper—

The version of him you’ve grown accustomed to—the one who would stoop at your altar for eternity, who would worship you with reverent hands and whispered prayers—vanishes. In its place stands something feral, something devout in a way that puts iconoclasm itself to shame. 

This isn’t devotion.

This is desecration.

And then there’s nothing but him. The world tilts, the room spinning in a dizzying whirl as he flips you over, his body a furnace against yours. One hand pins both of your wrists above your head, his fingers lacing through yours in a grip that’s as possessive as it is familiar—like he’s reclaiming what was always his. His weight sears into you, tainting you with every ragged inhale, every tremor that wracks his frame. But he’s not shaking with hesitation anymore. No, this is the aftershock of holding back for too goddamn long, the seismic release of a man who’s finally stopped denying himself.

His mouth crashes against yours like he’s starved for it—like he’s been dying of thirst and you’re the first taste of water in decades. There’s no finesse, no patience, just the brutal, consuming need to take. His other hand grips your thigh, yanking it higher, wider, his palm a brand as it slides up, leaving fire in its wake. There’s no room for gentleness here. No room for hesitation. Only this: the sharp sting of his teeth, the bruising press of his hips, the way he claims every inch of you like he’s carving his name into your bones.

The first thrust is a revelation—blinding, brutal, a declaration so fierce it steals the breath from your lungs. You have to fight to keep your eyes open, to watch the ruin you’ve orchestrated unfold—because God, it’s beautiful. The way his control fractures, the way his body bows over yours like a man in sacrament, like a sinner finally surrendering to damnation. His touch is everywhere, rough and reverent, dragging you against him with a desperation that borders on violence. As if he could fuse your bones together if he just held tight enough. As if he could carve this feeling into them, rewriting every moment he denied himself with the searing mark of his touch.

Every snap hits deeper than the last—a dire rearrangement, a reckoning for all the time he’s wasted curbing the desire.

"This what you wanted?"

His voice is a wildfire let loose, a growl scraped raw against your throat as his teeth find your skin—kissing, scraping, and biting. He doesn’t wait for an answer. Doesn’t need one. Not when your body is singing its reply with every shudder, every gasp, every broken noise he wrings from you.

"Wanted me to lose control?"

You can’t answer. Can’t fucking think—not when every drag of him inside you is pure incandescence, not when his rhythm is relentless, perfect, each withdrawal a taunt, each thrust a demand. His breath scorches your neck, his chuckle a hot gust that prickles down your spine. It’s carnage, every movement a chord struck in the symphony of your undoing, and he conducts it with a goddamn smirk on his lips. This isn’t just fucking.

It’s punishment.

It’s fealty.

It’s everything.

It’s punishment and worship fused together—his hands rough with greed, his touch reverent with something dangerously close to dread. Every movement is contradiction and deference, the bite of his fingers against you a stark contrast to the way his lips brush your pulse point like a whispered benediction. He’s unravelling you, thread by goddamn thread, even as he wills himself resilient — as if the outright force of craving you is enough to rip him apart at the seams. 

“Tell me you’re mine.”  It's not an inquiry, it's a fucking dictation.

It tears from him like he’s mitigating the clash between desperation and demand. It’s not just words— it’s a need, carved from the very marrow of his bones, and you can see the overture in it, the consolation he’s reaching for and the tenacity that’s written into his genetics.

Your reply comes without thought, without hesitation—pure instinct, molten and immediate, giving him exactly what he’s so wretched for:

"Yours.  Always yours."

The words ignite something primal in him. A growl rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your ribs as he claims your mouth, his kiss equal parts possession and surrender. This is more than ownership—it’s covenant, it’s consecration, and it’s the last frayed cord of his control snapping.

And then—

The realisation creeps into your veins like poison—too late to stop the spread. He’s a quick fucking study.

Before you can flutter your lashes, his hips roll with devastating precision. The tables turn so violently your guts plummet to the floor. Your arch is instinctive, a silent plea, but his palm presses down on your abdomen, pinning you under his newfound dominion. His tongue clicks in mocking agreement, the sound travelling straight through your sternum to pool liquid-hot between your thighs.

A predator's grin slashes across his features as he leans closer—but not close enough—his breath scalding against your parted lips.

“Oh no, love.”

His voice is refined malice, syllables dripping with a cataclysmic edge that makes your pulse stutter. The hand not holding you down drifts up, tracing counterfeit awe down your throat, a farce of tenderness.

“You wanted to play with fire?”

Each word is candied malevolence, a lullaby wrapped in a threat.

“Gonna show you exactly how it burns.”

[elvendria]

Clean

AU Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Final Part

You return to Hawkins after a few years in the middle of the night during the summer with your 4-year-old sister in tow, thinking the two of you could fly under the radar and settle in at Forest Hills Trailer Park. You thought you could get by without bumping into your old enemy, Eddie Munson, the town freak.

But you weren't always enemies. There was a time when you two were closer than anything.

Eddie dreams of making it big. You just dream of making it out of here alive.

\\enemies - lovers//

((Warning: I'm not from the US, so bear with me with states and such) )

18+ MINORS DNI 

Eddie starts as a dick, but I promise he gets better. There’s a slap, but it's low-key warranted? Mentions of blood

18+ MINORS DNI or I will be busting kneecaps, E.D, physical abuse, child abuse, runaways, the reader Joyce's ex-step-niece, Will and Johnathan's cousin, Joyce is Queen, Wayne is King, slow burn, gambling addictions, the reader is 20 and Eddie is 21, Chrissy is the villain but we stan Grace. Reader has a small scar on her lower torso. underage drinking, allusions to smut, no details of smut for obvious reasons, eventual smut in upcoming chapters, brief mention of Y/N

Every detail of the room felt etched into your consciousness—the rough texture of the wooden floor beneath your feet, the cold smoothness of the linoleum countertops, the mundanity of the generic painting hanging above Eddie's head. You'd stared at it for so long that it had lost its semblance of reality, blending into the background of your mind's eye. But as much as you preferred the silent refuge of these familiar surroundings to the looming conversation you needed to have, you knew you couldn't evade it permanently.

Eddie's voice cut through the thick silence, a reminder that avoidance was no longer an option. "You can’t stay silent forever. We still need to talk about this."

Your heart sank at his words, the weight of unspoken truths pressing down on you. You wished for a way out, a reprieve from the inevitable confrontation. But deep down, you knew that delaying the conversation would only prolong the agony.

Summoning every ounce of courage, you forced yourself to speak, though you couldn't bring yourself to meet his eyes. "I tried to talk about this. Five years and five months ago." The words tasted bitter on your tongue, a painful reminder of a past you'd rather forget.

Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to drift back to that fateful day—the memories flooding back with a visceral intensity that threatened to overwhelm you. It was the worst day of your life, a day etched into your soul with searing clarity.

The air was heavy with tension as you and Eddie sat across from each other, words caught in your throat like shards of broken glass. You'd rehearsed what you wanted to say a thousand times in your mind, but when the moment came, the words failed you.

You remembered the look of confusion and hurt in Eddie's eyes as you struggled to articulate the truth. You remembered the silence that followed, thick and suffocating, swallowing you whole.

In the years that followed, you buried the pain deep within, hoping that time would heal the wounds you couldn't bear to face. But now, with Eddie's patient insistence echoing in your ears, you knew that avoidance was no longer an option.

Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes, steeling yourself for the conversation ahead. It wouldn't be easy, and the road ahead was fraught with uncertainty. But you knew that facing the truth was the only way forward, no matter how painful it might be.

5 years and 5 months ago

In the stillness of the room, time seemed to stand still, each passing moment stretching into eternity. The air felt heavy with emotions, suffocating in its intensity. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast elongated shadows across the walls, serving as a silent witness to the turmoil raging within.

As you sat on the edge of the bed, the familiar comfort of the mattress now feeling foreign and distant, you couldn't shake the weight of the sealed envelope clutched tightly in your trembling hands. The words "Return To Sender" emblazoned on its surface seemed to mock you, a cruel reminder of rejection in its most brutal form.

With each passing second, the questions swirled in your mind, each one more haunting than the last. How could Eddie do this to you? How could he turn his back on the life growing within you, on the love you once shared so deeply?

As you traced the outline of each handwritten letter with shaky fingers, the sting of tears threatened to overwhelm you once more. The pain was palpable, a physical ache that radiated from your heart and settled deep within your bones. It was a pain born of betrayal and abandonment, a pain you never imagined you would have to endure.

Desperate for some semblance of connection, some shred of reassurance that you weren't alone in your anguish, you reached for your phone. But each call ended in silence, the void on the other end echoing the emptiness in your heart. It was a loneliness unlike anything you had ever known, a loneliness that consumed you from the inside out.

In the silence of the room, memories flooded your mind like a torrential downpour. You couldn't help but replay the moments leading up to this, each one a painful reminder of what once was and what could have been. The whispered promises, the shared dreams — they all felt like distant echoes of reality you could no longer grasp.

And yet, despite the overwhelming sorrow threatening to engulf you, a flicker of defiance ignited within your soul. You refused to let this moment define you, to let Eddie's betrayal rob you of your strength and resilience. You were stronger than this, stronger than the pain that threatened to break you.

As you sat there, enveloped in the solitude of the night, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held. It was a future shrouded in uncertainty, fraught with challenges and obstacles yet to be overcome. But it was also a future filled with possibility, with the potential for growth and healing in ways you never thought possible.

And so, with a newfound sense of determination, you rose from the edge of the bed, the weight of the envelope still heavy in your hand. You knew that the road ahead would be difficult, filled with twists and turns you couldn't anticipate. But you also knew that you were not alone, that somewhere out there, amidst the darkness, there was a glimmer of hope waiting to be discovered.

Present Day

The memories unfurled like delicate petals in the garden of your mind, each one a testament to the fragility of youth and the bittersweet symphony of love and loss. You transported yourself back to a time when innocence was your constant companion and the world seemed painted in hues of hope and possibility.

“You know, I used to draw a little design along the back of my letters so you could make sure they hadn’t been opened by the time they got to you. It was stupid. I mean, what kind of person would want to read a letter from a 16-year-old?” The simple act of drawing a squiggly line on the back of your letters emerged from the recesses of memory, a quaint ritual born from a desire to safeguard your innermost thoughts from prying eyes. At the tender age of sixteen, such gestures felt like feeble attempts to protect the sanctity of your words in a world fraught with uncertainty.

But uncertainty seemed a distant memory compared to the raw ache that now gnawed at your soul. Tears welled up unbidden, tracing silent rivers down cheeks once adorned with the flush of youth. You hadn’t even realized they were there until the telltale sting of saltwater against your skin brought your attention to their presence.

The weight of your emotions bore down upon you like a heavy shroud, suffocating and relentless. A sob escaped your lips, the sound foreign and raw in the stillness of the room. It was a sound wrought from the depths of your being, a primal cry for understanding in a world that seemed determined to remain indifferent to your pain.

This is what happened when you thought back to that day. You felt your chest tighten like your whole body had shut itself down and stitched itself up, trapping any remnants of the life you once had inside.

 “But… that was just it. I thought you would. I thought after everything, everything, that you were that person, that you’d want to read each word, and keep them until I came home to you.” You murmured, voice barely above a whisper as you navigated the labyrinth of memories that threatened to consume you whole. It was a day etched in the annals of your existence, a pivotal moment that had irrevocably altered the course of your life.

Your chest tightened with each passing moment, a vice-like grip that threatened to crush the fragile remnants of your shattered heart. It was a physical manifestation of the agony that permeated your being, a tangible reminder of the scars that marred your soul.

The spark of happy memories flickered briefly before being engulfed by the suffocating darkness that loomed on the horizon. It was a cruel juxtaposition, the juxtaposition of light and shadow that seemed to define your existence in equal measure.

“But… that was just it,' you confessed, the words tumbling from your lips like fragile petals caught in a tempest. It was a confession borne from the depths of your despair, a desperate plea for understanding in a world that seemed determined to remain deaf to your cries.

“I thought you would,” you continued, voice trembling with a vulnerability that left you feeling exposed and raw. It was a sentiment rooted in the belief that love, true love, could transcend the barriers of time and space, binding two souls together in a tapestry of shared experiences and whispered promises.

But his face remained impassive, a mask of stoicism that betrayed none of the tumultuous emotions swirling beneath the surface. It was a facade you had grown accustomed to, yet it still cut you to the quick, a reminder of the chasm that now yawned between you.

You watched in silence as he spoke, his words a litany of accusations and half-truths that cut through the fragile veneer of your composure. It was a barrage of verbal assaults, each one a dagger aimed squarely at the heart of your fragile hopes and dreams.

The question he posed hung in the air like a heavy fog, suffocating and oppressive in its silence. It was a question that pierced the very fabric of your being, laying bare the insecurities and doubts that had long plagued your tortured soul.

“Is she even mine?” he demanded, the words a cruel echo of the doubts that had long haunted your darkest nightmares. It was a question you had feared and dreaded, yet it still cut you to the quick, reminder of the fragile foundation upon which your fractured relationship now stood.

Any lingering traces of guilt dissolved in the face of his callous indifference, replaced by a seething anger that threatened to consume you whole. How dare he? How dare he question the paternity of the child you had borne alone, a testament to the strength and resilience of a mother’s love?

“Look, don’t give me that look,” he snapped, his voice dripping with contempt as he dismissed your pain with a casual wave of his hand. It was a dismissal you could ill afford, a reminder of the gulf that now stretched between you like an unbridgeable chasm.

But you refused to be cowed by his indifference, refused to allow him to diminish the magnitude of your sacrifice with his callous words. You squared your shoulders, steeling yourself for the storm that threatened to engulf you whole.

“And I don’t know you’d been telling me in your letters how you were getting close to this Jeb kid,” he continued, his words a dagger aimed squarely at the heart of your fragile hopes and dreams. It was a betrayal of the highest order, a betrayal you could ill afford in the face of his relentless onslaught.

Sure, you had attempted to befriend Jeb, and had sought solace in the fleeting moments of companionship he offered. But it was a fleeting respite, a reprieve from the relentless storm that raged within your tortured soul.

“Look, I think we just need to do a paternity test-” he began, his words a death knell tolling in the depths of your despair. It was a proposition you could ill afford, a proposition that threatened to unravel the fragile threads of your fractured relationship.

But before he could utter another word, something inside you snapped. It was a primal instinct, a raw surge of emotion that propelled you forward with a force you could not resist. The crack of your hand meeting his cheek echoed in the stifling silence, a symphony of defiance and liberation.

“Get out,” you spat, the words a bitter indictment of the betrayal that now stained the fabric of your fractured relationship. He recoiled, a hand pressed to his stinging cheek, shock etched into every line of his face.

As he made his hasty exit, you remained rooted to the spot, grappling with the aftershocks of your outburst. Glass shattered against the door, a physical manifestation of the shattered fragments of your fractured relationship.

Alone amidst the debris, you collapsed to the floor, knees buckling beneath the weight of your anguish. Blood mingled with tears as you surrendered to the overwhelming tide of emotion, the cold embrace of exhaustion lulling you into an uneasy slumber.

And so you lay, battered and broken, the echoes of his accusations lingering in the recesses of your mind, a reminder of the fragile nature of trust and the devastating consequences of its betrayal. But amidst the wreckage of your shattered dreams, a flicker of hope remained a beacon of light in the darkest depths of despair. For in the crucible of adversity, you had discovered the strength to endure, the resilience to rise from the ashes of your shattered past and forge a future worthy of the love you so desperately sought.

Eddie seethed with a mixture of frustration and disbelief as he stepped into the familiar confines of his home in Hawkins. All he'd attempted was to apply logic, yet he was met with hostility. Perhaps "assault" was too strong a term, but it wasn't far from the truth. This marked the second occasion he'd been struck since returning home. Did he even still consider Hawkins home? The question gnawed at him as he pushed the door shut behind him, the weight of uncertainty settling heavily upon his shoulders.

Inside, the atmosphere was tense. Wayne sat at the worn wooden table, his hands folded neatly before him. The silence that enveloped the room hung heavier than usual, suffocating any hope of a casual greeting. Eddie's jaw tensed as he braced himself for the inevitable confrontation, his mind racing with a thousand unanswered questions.

"So... what went down between you two?" Wayne's voice cut through the oppressive silence like a knife, his gaze fixed intently on Eddie. Eddie couldn't help but admire his uncle's directness, even in moments like these.

"We argued, as we always do," Eddie began, his voice heavy with frustration. "She gave me the silent treatment for ages, and when she finally spoke, she blamed me for not knowing about the kid. So, I asked if the child was even mine, and she slapped me! Can you believe it?" His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white against the strain as he recounted the altercation.

Wayne sighed heavily, rubbing a weary hand over his face. "You're being dense, Eddie," he said, his tone laced with exasperation. He knew Eddie was smarter than this. Yet here he was, behaving like a petulant child. "Of course, Willow is yours. All the signs point to it."

Eddie shot Wayne a withering glare, his frustration boiling over. How could his uncle trust her over him? Surely the reasonable man Wayne was would understand why Eddie preferred to err on the side of caution, especially with matters of the heart.

"Edward, the kid has your eyes and your hair. She looks exactly like you did as a child. I knew she was yours the moment I saw her."

The words hit Eddie like a ton of bricks, a sudden realization dawning on him. "You knew? When did she tell you?"

"She didn't have to. Edward Munson, that kid is your spitting image. When she visits, all she wants to do is listen to your tapes and hear you talk about your Caves and Lizards game."

"It's Dungeons and Dragons," Eddie corrected automatically, his mind racing to process this new information. "She's mine... isn't she?"

"Of course she is. Did you think she'd choose anyone but you?" Wayne's voice softened, a hint of warmth creeping into his tone as he reached out to reassure his nephew. He had seen it the moment she entered their lives. She and Eddie had an infatuation with each other. They loved each other from day one, and it took a child to make them realize it if they ever did admit it.

"Yeah... about that..." Eddie's voice trailed off, a pang of guilt gnawing at him. How could he have doubted her, doubted them? He'd never forget the look in her eyes, like everything had fallen into place for her that night. He knew because he felt the same way. Even now, he felt like his entire existence revolved around her. "I kind of hinted that I thought she might be with someone else."

Wayne's expression softened, a flicker of understanding passing between them. Eddie had always been quick to jump to conclusions, but his heart was in the right place. "You're something else," Wayne said, a hint of fondness tugging at the corners of his lips as he rose from his seat.

With that, Wayne pushed his chair back and headed to the bathroom, leaving Eddie to grapple with the weight of his own emotions. As he made his way to his room, a sense of unease settled over him. He had ruined everything he ever wanted, and the consequences of his actions weighed heavily on his mind.

To top it all off, he might have ruined any chance of seeing his daughter again. The thought hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the fragility of their newfound bond and the importance of trust in their relationship.

The echoes of the argument still reverberated in your mind, though two weeks had passed since the war within your… situation… erupted. Now, amidst the chaos of life, bigger things demand your attention. Today marked Willow's first day of school, a milestone overshadowed by the recent upheaval. Delaying it by a few days seemed necessary as she grappled with the revelation that the person she believed to be her sister was, in fact, her mother. It was a truth that unravelled a web of emotions, triggering one of the most monumental tantrums you had ever witnessed.

As you sat in the parking lot, the weight of recent events felt momentarily lifted by the simple joy of hearing Willow refer to you as her mom for the first time. The word, so longed for yet unexpected in its arrival, wrapped around your heart like a warm embrace. It was a validation of the bond you had worked tirelessly to forge, despite the obstacles and uncertainties that clouded your path.

"Mom... we should go." Willow's voice broke through the reverie, grounding you in the present moment. You couldn’t get past the significance of her words, even if she didn’t. Each syllable held a promise of newfound connection and acceptance for her and a promise that part of you was starting to slip away. It was a moment you had longed for, a moment that filled the void left by the turmoil of recent weeks.

With a sense of renewed purpose, you stepped out of the car, the cool breeze of the morning air brushing against your skin. Making your way around to Willow's side, you extended a hand to help her out, savouring the warmth of her small fingers intertwined with yours. The simple act of physical contact felt like a lifeline, a tangible reminder of the love that bound you together.

Pulling her into a tight embrace, you marvelled at how much she had grown in what felt like the blink of an eye. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of emotions, but in this moment, as you held your precious child close, everything else faded into insignificance. You couldn't help but lavish her with affection, doting on her every movement as if trying to make up for lost time.

"I know, I know. It's just you're so big now!" you exclaimed, your voice tinged with a mixture of pride and awe. Willow's smile mirrored your own, a reflection of the unconditional love that flowed between you. As you stood there, basking in the warmth of the morning sun, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, bound by a love that was as resilient as it was unbreakable.

As she skipped beside you, her sparkly pink trainers lighting up with every step, you held her hand tightly. With each bounce, she seemed to carry a piece of the sun's brightness, infusing the world around you with an infectious energy that made everything seem more vibrant and alive. You wished you could bottle it, like her own brand of lightning in a jar. You were certain a joy like that could cure all ailments.

As you stepped into the building, a wave of familiar scents enveloped you, triggering a strange sense of nostalgia. The hallways exuded a peculiar blend of bleach, plasticine, and an elusive aroma that seemed to linger in every school corridor. It was a scent that stirred up memories, perhaps of apprehension, or maybe of anticipation, but most likely a concoction of both.

High school memories flooded your mind, and you couldn't help but think of her. You wondered how time would mould her, shaping her perspective of the world. If she retained even a fraction of the effervescent spirit she possessed now, you could easily picture her as a beacon of joy, radiating positivity and warmth wherever she went.

As you approached Willow's classroom door, a mix of emotions swirled within. Each step felt like a journey, leading inexorably to a new phase of life. The door creak seemed to underscore the weight of the moment as it swung open, revealing a space alive with the energy of youth. But amidst the chatter and colourful decor, a bittersweet truth lingered: this marked the beginning of the end of an era. Standing in the hallway, holding her tiny little hand, the gravity of the occasion settled like a heavy cloak. It was a poignant reminder that time marches on, carrying precious moments with it, even as it ushers in new beginnings.

“You ready to go in, sweetie? You want me to come in and help you get set up?”

“Wait!” 

Your head snapped up, startled by the rapid tempo of shoes striking the linoleum floor. As you turned, your heart leapt at the sight of the one person you least expected yet secretly yearned for. It was a paradoxical moment, where surprise collided with a silent prayer answered. Time seemed to stand still as you processed the unexpected encounter, each heartbeat echoing the tumultuous mix of emotions swirling within.

“I drove here as fast as I could. I… I had to see her.” 

His dishevelled appearance, with hair hastily scraped back and clothes seemingly inside out, hinted that he rushed here, disoriented maybe. The last thing you wanted was for Willow's first day to be marred by tears or confusion, so you hurriedly guided her inside, a silent observer from the doorway.

As Willow bounded towards a girl in a bright blue sweater, effortlessly engaging in her natural talent for making friends, you couldn't help but feel a pang of emotion. Yet, you remained silent, unable to meet his gaze without the weight of an unspoken intensity pressing against your chest.

It was a sensation that threatened to overwhelm you, leaving your eyes burning and your mouth dry. The urge to scream into the void, to release the pent-up emotions into the world, was almost palpable. But deep down, you knew that no amount of noise could articulate the complex feelings swirling within you.

“Why did you-” You couldn’t handle his questions, only holding up a hand to shut him up for a minute.

“You can see her from here. I can’t have her asking more questions just yet.” He didn’t have to deal with the fallout, he’s never had to deal with any of it. He just walked back in, fired around a bunch of accusations, and walked back out again. He’d never get to understand the pain that left you.

“I’m sorry for what I said. Please, just… just listen to me.”

“Will listening shut you up? Will it make everything go back to the way it was before you knew?” You choked on the end of your words, fighting back the tears that stung your eyes and threatened to fall.

“Just let me speak, and if after I'm finished, that's still what you want? Then we can try to go back to normal. But it’ll never be like it was before I knew, because I want to know her.”

You stood up and began walking away, hearing him follow close behind. You weren't in the mood to hear what he had to say, or how he felt he had some god-given right to see her after everything he had said and done. His presence grated on your nerves, each footstep amplifying your frustration.

“I want to know my daughter. Please.” 

His voice sounded almost like he was begging, pleading with you to change your mind, to hear him out. The desperation in his tone made you hesitate, hearing him call her his. It stirred something within you, and you stopped in your tracks. Turning around, you fixed him with a ferocious glare, your eyes burning with a mix of anger and pain. The intensity of your gaze was enough to make him falter, and for a moment, the hallway was filled with the heavy silence of unspoken emotions.

"So now you feel entitled to call her yours?" Now you get to believe me when I say that I’d never been with anyone but you? Why did you suddenly have a change of heart?

He continued walking towards you, slowing his pace as he noticed you stiffen when he got too close. It was as if he was handling a wounded bird, afraid that any sudden movement might cause you to flee and leave him behind once more. The only thing convincing him that you wouldn't run was the undeniable truth that your child was still here, and you would never leave her. The weight of this unspoken understanding hung heavily in the air, a silent tether binding you to the spot despite the turmoil within.

“I was a fool before. Wayne showed me that. Hell, I was more than a fool. I was an outright fuck up.” He stood there, holding his breath. You could almost hear his heart battering against his ribs from where you stood. As you turned around and met his gaze, a flicker of softness crept into your heart. You wanted to dash to your car, to escape home and hide until it was time to pick her up. But you knew it was impossible. For Christ's sake, he lived across the street. Eventually, you'd run into him again. The thought of the inevitable encounters made your shoulders sag with the weight of resignation, yet you stood your ground, steeling yourself for the confrontation that you knew was coming.

“That doesn’t answer my question. It just proves I was right. Why do you feel the right to call her your child when I was the one who had to endure hell for years?” 

You felt the tears fall, but made no move to wipe them away. A part of you was glad you didn’t when you felt his warm hand on your cheek, gently brushing them away with his thumb. He looked at you with that familiar expression—the one that had gotten you into this mess in the first place. It was a mix of tenderness and regret, a look that pierced through your defenses and made your heart ache. Despite everything, there was still a connection, a lingering trace of what once was, and it left you standing there, torn between the past and an uncertain future.

And it was goddamn working.

“I remembered it, just this morning.” 

He was staring through your soul with those eyes that could melt the ice-cold walls you’d built to keep yourself safe. He was the only person you had ever known who could make you feel secure, make you feel at home. In his gaze, you saw a depth of understanding and a silent plea for forgiveness, a reflection of the love that had once bound you together so tightly. Despite the pain and the years of separation, he still had the power to unravel your defenses, leaving you vulnerable yet inexplicably comforted in his presence.

“When I called you and the line went dead, I tried again and again to get through to you. Eventually, someone answered. It was your dad. He told me you didn’t want to talk to me ever again. Then I remembered something you said to me about a letter you wrote. I… I never got it.” 

The realization hit you like a freight train, surging through every vein in your body like an unstoppable force. It felt as though the tracks had suddenly given way beneath you, sending you hurtling into chaos. Yet, amidst the chaos, everything began to fall into place, like pieces of a puzzle that had eluded fitting together until this moment.

Memories flooded back—your father's abrupt phone call, the slammed receiver, the whispered conversations behind closed doors. And then, the return of your letter, marked with "return to sender." It all made sense now. The pieces of the puzzle, disjointed and scattered for so long, finally clicked into place, revealing a picture you had never dared to imagine.

A surge of conflicting emotions washed over you. Part of you wanted to cry and scream, to unleash the years of pent-up anger and frustration at the injustice of it all. You had wasted so much time hating him for what he did, resenting the world for the hand it had dealt you. But on the other hand, there was a profound sense of gratitude, a realization that despite the pain and heartache, his actions had led to the greatest gift you could have ever received.

In the midst of the turmoil, there was a glimmer of light—a beacon of love and joy that had emerged from the darkest corners of your past. Your child, the embodiment of a love you had never thought possible, had brought warmth and meaning into your life in ways you could never have imagined. And in that moment, as you grappled with the complexities of your emotions, you couldn't help but feel a sense of profound gratitude for the unexpected blessings that had emerged from the depths of your pain.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did when you told me that Willow was mine. I should’ve believed you. I always believe you.” He walked closer to you, till the tips of your shoes were touching, and you could feel his breath on your skin, the smell of nicotine engulfing you. “Maybe if I told you sooner that I…” You watched him catch his breath, watched him stop speaking for a moment. You had a blooming warm feeling in your chest, hoping what he was about to say was the same as what you’d been feeling for as long as you can remember.

“Say it, please. So that I can tell you the same thing.” 

You watched as a sparkle appeared behind his eyes, a joyous expression threatening to overtake his face. It made you want to grin against him too, want to smile stronger and wider than you’ve ever done before.

“Maybe if I told you sooner that I loved you, I could’ve made you stay. We could’ve raised her together. God, I love you, have loved you and will love you for my entire life. I don’t know why I didn’t say anything before now. I wish I had told you that night, the beautiful night that I have been obsessed with since you left.” His words were like poetry, music to your ears.

The fluorescent lights cast a soft glow over the empty high school hallway, the distant hum of the lights barely audible. After five long years apart, you stood facing each other near the lockers where you had shared countless memories as children yourself.

"I never stopped loving you," he confessed, his voice trembling slightly. "Not for a single moment."

Tears welled up in your eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. "I love you too," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I've always loved you."

For a moment, the two of you simply stared at each other, the weight of your mutual feelings hanging heavily in the air. Then, almost in unison, you took a step closer.

His other hand reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away the last stray tear. You leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed as you savored the warmth and familiarity of his hand.

He tilted his head, closing the distance between the two of you. Your breaths mingled, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. Then, your lips collided with his in a tender, lingering kiss, a kiss that spoke of years of longing and unspoken words.

It was soft at first, a gentle exploration, as if you were both afraid the moment would shatter. But then, the intensity grew, the kiss deepening as you poured all your pent-up emotions into it. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and you responded in kind, your hands tangling in his long, thick hair.

The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of love and passion. The cool metal of the lockers pressed against your back as they kissed, grounding you both in the reality of the moment. When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch their breath.

"I've missed you so much," you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath.

"And I you," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "But we're together now, and I'm never letting you go again."

You smiled, your heart full, and kissed him once more, sealing the promise with a tender touch, the echoes of your love resonating through the silent hallway.

This, this was the life you deserved, the love you deserved, all along. This was what true love felt like, what it felt like to be loved. He was an intoxicating drug, and you knew that you were hooked for life.

You sat in the car together, catching him up on everything he’d missed while you were apart. Soon it felt like no time had passed at all, and that you were back to your old ways. Best friends, and now lovers.

You hadn’t realised that hours had passed until you saw the cute little bundle of joy bounding her way over in her pink light up sneakers. You saw a look on Eddies face, a beaming sight of joy.

“What is it? Are you okay?” You got a little worried, thinking maybe something was wrong.

“She… she’s wearing my old hellfire shirt. It was the first one I’d ever made. I didn’t want to waste a shirt my size, so I tried it on a child's one. Wayne, well, he must have sold it on or something.” You could now see that what that look in his eyes was. It was pride. Pride that his little girl was showing an interest in something that was uniquely his.

The grin stayed on his face even as she climbed into the car, throwing her arms around the seat to hug him, squealing his name in delight. It made your heart soar, like fireworks lighting up your whole world.

“So sweetie, how was your first day?” 

“I got a boyfriend named Sam!” 

You watched Eddie almost choke on his own breath, meanwhile you couldn’t help but break into a belly laugh, clutching your sides breathlessly.

“Well, guess I better meet this boy.” He turned to you, whispering gently. “Is it too much to sit on the porch with a shotgun?”

“Eddie! The kids probably five years old!”

“Hey! She’s my little girl, I gotta protect her from the big bad kindergartners of the world.” 

And that was it, that was how you’d go onto spend the rest of your lives. With a beautiful sunny glow surrounding you like heavenly light. 

The look of love would stay on his face forever, on your wedding day, on the day you brought a brother into the world for Willow. It was there always, and you just knew.

You knew that this was what it meant to be clean.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

And there we go! The final chapter is done after so damn long. I've been writing this fic for over a year and im so glad to finally have it be over. The amount of WIPs I've come up with since then has been enormous, but I've commited and didn't want to give up on this baby. So here it is, I hope you all enjoyed!

next up.... BRIDGERTON EDDIE

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@elegantkoalapaper @eddiesguitarskills @hazydespair @rozxartaki @seatbacksandtraytables

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

🎃 Spooky, Spooky Movies 👻

You're nursing a crush on Eddie but you're too shy to approach him. A shared love of spooky movies brings the two of you together.

❤️

You had been quietly nursing this little crush of yours for a while now, Eddie Munson was the object of your affections and your crush had only continued to grow the last month or so. Ever since school started again, you noticed Eddie more and more.

Not that he would notice you. Eddie seemed to have crushes on cheerleaders like Chrissy Cunningham, he wasn't interested in you at all.

If only you had the courage to join Hellfire Club or even something less terrifying like even saying hello to him once in a while. That could be a possibility.

You're pretty sure if you joined Hellfire you would just get all tongue tied around him. It was extremely annoying that he made you like this. If you were around people you knew then you were fine.

However being around the guy you were crushing on reduced you to mush. How you would love to make him laugh by saying something witty or just anything at all.

Secretly you watch Eddie while he's in his element, ranting about conformity, Miss O'Donnell and Jason Carver. His eyes are bright, a tiny smirk on his face as passionately begins talking about his new campaign in D&D.

After a few moments you pack away your things and head out of the cafeteria. You're not paying attention as you should and end up knocking into Eddie. Shit.

Flustered you apologise and Eddie flashes you and all dimpled smile as he gathers up your books for you.

Then his eyes trail down to your shirt and he points to it excitedly. "Jesus h Christ, that shirt is so fucking cool. I take it you're a big fan of spooky movies huh?"

You literally forgot you were wearing your favourite Evil Dead shirt today and smile up at Eddie. You were determined to at least hold a conversation with him and maybe your love of spooky movies was the key?

"Mmm, I think I've rented out every horror movie that Family Video has to offer" his eyes light up and he guides you to The Hellfire table, ignoring the rest of the members as he barked at Mike to make space for you.

The two of you spent most of lunch chatting about horror movies that you liked. When you mentioned you were planning to rent out Poltergeist and either Christine or Friday the 13th he was practically vibrating with excitement.

Then all of a sudden his usual confident demeanour vanishes and he looks suddenly shy, he tugs a piece of his hair across his face and peers at you nervously.

"Uh, I actually have Poltergeist rented out rented out ready, maybe you could come to mine and we could watch it?" Oh.

Was this like a date? No...it couldn't be right? You take a chance and ask him, completely expecting him to blow you off. "You mean like a date?"

He blushes but swiftly glares to silence the rest of Hellfire who begins to cat call and tease Eddie. The look immediately silences them and Eddie gestures for you to follow him out to the corridor. "Away from prying buttheads" he tells you and throws an irritated look at the Hellfire table.

Once you're alone he's a little shy again. "Yeah I mean like a date sweetheart" you're elated and stunned that this is actually happening and you accidentally blurt out something you've been wondering for weeks, maybe months.

"I thought you'd have a crush on Chrissy or the other cheerleaders" you admit and he scoffs.

"I mean Chrissy is sweet and all but no. Kinda got my world turned upside down by a beautiful, spooky movie loving lady" flustered but not wasting any more time, you beam and agree to the date.

"Yeah, I'd love to go on a date with you Eddie" he gawks then makes a show of clutching his heart and swooning, it makes you giggle and maybe fall a little bit more for him.

You didn't realise at the time that the date would be the start of something very special.

All because of your love for spooky movies.

Halloween 1987

Eddie is chatting to Steve as you browse through the horror selection in Family Video. You settle on The Thing, Nightmare on Elm street and Fright Night.

What you're most looking forward to is tomorrow when you and Eddie are going to the movies to see The Lost Boys. Both of you were excited for the film but you were anticipating it the most.

Vampires movies were a secret love of yours and this one looked so good. A perfect film to see before Halloween.

Once you've picked your selection you head up to the counter, Steve whistles as he eyes the titles.

"Ahh I see date night right? Munson's picks I guess?" Eddie snorts.

"My princess loves spooky movies I'll have you know Harrington" yeah you'd never get tired of hearing Eddie call you his princess.

Or for all the Halloween's together that were yet to come.

🎃🍁

[hotwritergf]

De-stressing. Eddie Munson x reader. Blurb. Fluff

☁️ Your laying on face down on Eddie’s chest. Burying your face in his body hair, inhaling all the faint scent of weed and his cologne. Your arm draped over him and up into his hair as you twiddle with his curls. Eddie’s nails trailing up your back, swirling over your freckles and dancing over the birthmark on your right side that’s somewhat shaped like a crescent moon. Eddie always said it matches his circular birth mark, something about you and him making a full moon together. “Feeling better now little love?” He whispers into your hair, you can feel his hot breath on your head as he speaks. You groan in response, not wanting to verbalise everything you feel right now. It’s much too hard to communicate how his nails on your skin feel like home and his general ‘Eddie-ness’ calms all of the anxiety that builds up in your body throughout the day. “I’ll take that as a yes” Eddie chuckles, you feel his belly rise up and down from his laughter, shaking you around slightly. You’ve always loved his laugh, it’s loud and care-free. His giggles are bubbly and joyous and you just wish you could listen to that sound all day long. Today was stressful and this princess treatment was exactly what you needed and Eddie knew that, he has some sixth boyfriend sense when it comes to your needs. Your eyelids feel heavier with every blink you take and you mentally thank yourself for washing your makeup off before snuggling up with Eds. “Off to bed, sleepyhead” Eddie speaks before kissing your temple and nuzzling his nose back into your hair. You grunt once more and let him tease your spine some more. This was definitely the way to de-stress. ☁️

[sugarsblurbs]

Thinking about dad!eddie again but this time young!dad!eddie he got you, his high school girlfriend, pregnant. Your parents hate Eddie because he is “lower” then them. But that doesn’t stop Eddie he does everything he can for you during the pregnancy, weird pregnancy cravings at 2 in the morning? He is trying everything with you. Pregnancy hormones? He can be a shoulder to cry on or punch. But of course it still not enough for your parents.

Then the young one comes, your parents try their hardest to keep Eddie away. But no no no that won’t work for dad!eddie he is there every single day he doesn’t mind the dirty looks your mom gives him when he walks in the house reaching for his child. Or the words under your dads breath when he walks by your room seeing Eddie on the bed with his two loves of his life napping on them.

Why? Because he loves his family that he created. Yes he might be young. Yes he might be still in high school. Is his grades slipping due to fatherhood? Yes but hey he doesn’t care. Because he gets to see his child’s firsts. First words, first crawl, first steps, first time eat solids, first headbang. He saw it all.

He becomes the cool dad obviously. He loves showing off your child. He has many matches band shirts with them. He takes them to hellfire uses them has, props, or as the villain. There is a fic where Eddie uses is daughter as a dragon for is campaign and I am in love with it.

I think if school got too hard for him he would drop out and find a job. He wants to get his family out of this hellhole. He would work as a mechanic or with Wayne. Yes he is aching. Yes he thighs are sore. But he is still climbing into your window to sleep with his family.

[asmutwriter]

A Birthday Treat (Eddie x f!reader)

DESCRIPTION: Eddie decides to do something special for your birthday

A/N - Its the week of my birthday and I wanted to write a story based on it. Given that my Eddie story is the only completed one - plus the readers birthday in this story is in October - I thought it was fitting for this week.

WORD COUNT: 1164

One Shots / 'Welcome to the Freak Show'

WARNINGS: established relationship, fluff with some extra fluff

DISCLAIMERS

This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

This story is based after the events of my series 'Welcome to the Freak Show' (a Stranger Things fan fiction) which I'd recommend reading before or after reading this

You weren’t initially going to work today. Having planned a nice day in of watching borderline crappy movies with Eddie. However something had come up at his work. Due to the job being relatively new for him you both recognised that he couldn't deny the extra work. Knowing you’d have been home alone you decided to go into your own work that day.

You give an annoyed sigh. Glancing at the clock in the diner. You'd been on your feet since 7am this morning. Having missed your break at work due to the overwhelming amount of customers coming into the diner you worked in. Plus they wanted you to stay overtime. So now you had officially been on your feet for over 12 hours straight.

Normally you are an absolute workaholic. On any other day you'd have loved the overtime. Enjoyed the people, the work place, also the extra money you know working those extra hours would bring you. Today was different though. Today was your birthday. You tiredly wonder over to the small booth that a couple had just sat down in. Smiling at them as you take their order.

Going to the kitchen. Placing the small paper onto the side which has their order written on it. Starting to make the two burgers the young lovers had ordered. Your work friend sidles towards you.

"You should go home"

"I'm fine". You glance sideways at her. A disapproving look on her face. "Honestly. Besides" you place the buns on the two burgers. "I have customers to attend to". She shakes her head. Her wild blonde hair wiggling with the motion. Despite being restricted into a ponytail. Picking up the plate as she points with her finger towards you and then the entrance door.

"Go home. Enjoy what is left of your birthday". You roll your eyes. Reaching behind you as you undo your apron. Chucking it into the communal pile of aprons you share with your fellow workers before you start your leisurely walk back to your home. Humming softly.

Getting to the caravan sight you notice your homes lights on. Confusion comes over your brow. You weren't expecting anyone to be home at this time. Going over you gently lift the handle. Opening the door you see Eddie inside. He looks over. Jumping up as he practically runs the short distance. Slapping his hands over your eyes.

“No you can’t see yet” you give a small chuckle.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a surprise. You have to wait outside” you smile. His sentence quickly followed by a small "Please". Feeling him turn you. His hand still firmly placed over your eyes as he leads you out your home. Removing it quickly. Hearing him shut the door behind you. Quickly followed by the sound of commotion coming from inside your home. You turn around. Wrapping your leather jacket around yourself as the chilly autumn air hits your skin.

Soon enough the door opens. Eddie wears a big grin over his face. Coming out as he pulls the door behind him slightly. Making you unable to sneak a peak behind him. Holding a ring adorned hand out towards you. “My queen”. You smile. Placing you hand delicately into his. Stepping inside your home. He shuts the door behind you.

Your smile growing ten times as you look around. Fairy lights adorned every surface of the place. Small candles and autumnal leaves on nearly every surface. Your boyfriend stands in the middle of the van. Hands folded over himself. A soft look on his face. You bring a hands up. Placing them over your face as you take it all in.

“Eddie” you whisper. He anxiously wiggles his weight between his legs.

“Do you like it?” You look at him. Nodding. Going over you wrap your arms around his neck. His arms snaking around your waist. Holding you close to him.

“I love it” you kiss him quickly on his lips. “You do spoil me Munson”. He chuckles. His hands coming up. Lightly taking your arms and removing them from his neck as he talks.

“Plus” he moves to a cupboard. Opening it up as he takes out a small parcel. Going over to you as he holds it out in both his palms. “Happy birthday my queen”. You look at the gift. Eyes going back up to his as you smile. Reaching your hand out as you take it.

Carefully unwrapping the parcel. A small box inside. Taking the lid off. You smile. Reaching in as you pick up the silver chain. Lifting up the beautiful necklace. Entwined with silver. A small pendant in the shape of a bat sits at the bottom of it. You glance at him.

“It’s beautiful” you whisper. He holds a hand out.

“May I?” You nod. Placing the delicate item into his hand. Thankfully your hair was already in a ponytail so it made it easy for you to move out of his way. Turning your back to him. Letting him place the necklace around you. Doing the clasp up in the back. You turn back around to face him.

“Thank you Eddie” you place a hand either side of his face. His hands going to your hips.

“You’re welcome” you lean forward. Gently kissing him. He smiles into your lips. Pulling away as a soft 'hmm' comes from him. “I didn’t know what film you wanted to watch”. He motions at a pile on the counter top. You move your hands to his upper arms. Turning your head to follow his motion. “I rented out a couple of movies. Because its your birthday I didn't get any horrors as I know how you feel about them". He moves from your affection. Speaking as he goes over to the piles.

"I did manage to get us some classics - Grease, Sound of Music, Gigi. Plus I saw this one". Picking up a new video. Holding it up. “It’s called Brief Encounter. You might’ve watched it before but I know I haven’t. I thought it looked quite good. I don't now which one you'd like to watch”. You hold a hand out for the new movie. Letting you take it from him. Reading the back of it.

“Oh this looks good!” You exclaim. Looking back at him. “This first. Then I reckon Gigi. Then we see how much time we have”. He smiles. Nodding in approval. He motions to the bed.

“Sit”. You do as he asks. Watching as he winds the movie back to the beginning. Putting it into the video player. Coming over and sitting next to you in the bed. He grabs the blanket from the end. Throwing it over both your legs as the film starts to play. Wrapping an arm around your middle. Resting your head onto his shoulder as he holds you close to him. Gently kissing the top of your head before the film starts.

You guess your birthday wasn’t so bad after all.

TAGS

@karma2223 @fknemily @sammararaven​​ @munson-fixation