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#eddie munson hc
ddejavvu · 9 months
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i imagine eddie working out in his room like doing push-ups, pulls ups, AND he’s shirtless😭😭but he’s doing it secretly and reader walk into his room and he gets all flustered and embarrassed but reader thinks it’s the hottest things she’s ever seen GOD
this post is 18+, minors dni.
If you had to guess, you'd say that Eddie is a little bit insecure. Not that he should be, you like him just the way he is, but you're friends with some of Hawkins' athletes, and at times Lucas seems to have bigger arms than your boyfriend does.
It doesn't bother you, but you think it might bother him a little. He starts wearing longer sleeves instead of his worn out muscle tanks, and you miss being able to stick your greedy fingers through the gaped sleeves to grab at his stomach. He's also started dissuading you from looking under his bed, which you think is suspicious because you already know about the porn magazines under there. Whatever he's hiding must be worse, and you're a little nervous to tell the truth. You have half a mind to ask Wayne if he's noticed anything odd lately, but you don't get the chance to because he's already gone for work by the time you get to Eddie's trailer for the day.
Eddie had said he was busy with work, so you assume he's halfway across town with sixteen pizzas in the back of his van to deliver. You decide to check beneath his bed, at the risk of ruining a possible birthday surprise, and you trek towards his bedroom with worry set low in your stomach.
His door is closed; that's an even worse sign. He doesn't have anything to hide from you or Wayne, you both know about his less-than-conventional 'side job'. When you twist the knob it opens, but slams into something hard, and you hear a familiar voice hiss 'ouch!'.
You rush into the small gap that you'd made with the door, finding Eddie on his hands and knees on the carpet. He's wearing a tank and his gym shorts, showing off his slightly trembling arms as he stumbles to his feet.
"What-" He grunts, eyes blown wide in panic, cheeks colored from exhaustion, "What are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here?" You counter, eyeing him up and piecing clues together, "Were you working out?"
"No!" He snaps, chest heaving with both adrenaline from being caught, and fatigue from his exercise, "I'm- I was just cleaning my room."
There's something undeniably attractive about his look right now. Frizzy hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail, red cheeks, shaky limbs, and chest heaving.
"On the floor," You narrow your eyes, "Sweaty and shaking?"
"I- That's not... yes." He doubles down with a huff, "I'm trying to get gum off of my carpet. It's hard work."
"Gum," You repeat, and he nods stiffly, "Oh, shut up."
He rears his head backwards in slight shock at your tone, but you don't give him the chance to process it before you're lunging for him. You feel like jumping him, and maybe that's what you're doing as you push him back towards his bed, your mouth firmly over his own. He lets out a muffled cry into the kiss as he falls backwards, bouncing on the mattress while you kick a foot beneath the bed.
The arch of your foot hits weights, and everything makes sense.
"Fuck," You hiss, crawling over top of him on the bed. He's looking half bewildered and half aroused, already chubbing up in his workout gear, "You've been working out?"
"Yeah," He finally admits, voice and breath shaky together, "I- I just thought that it might be nice to get a little bigger. Like- my arms, my- my muscles."
He seems mortified admitting it, but your thumb is already slipping beneath the hem of his tank top, brushing along his bare stomach. He shivers at the contact, and you dip down to kiss him again.
"That's hot," You decide, both thumbs now stroking at his waistline. His hips stutter, jerking up into your grip when you hit a particularly sensitive spot, and his breath hitches into the kiss that you press to his lips.
"Really?" He asks, lips already spit-slicked.
You nod, kissing his jaw, "Totally. Can I watch?"
He laughs, a sharp, breathy sound, "Babe- mm, fuck," You nip lightly at his neck, kissing the mark after, "You can watch me work out every day if you're gonna maul me like this."
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ssweetleaf · 9 months
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rosemary.
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pairing— eddie munson x fem!reader
w/c— 2.2k
♡ summary— you and eddie have just got married, and seeing you in your pretty dress, all pure and innocent, he can’t quite wait until after the after party to get his hands on you.
♡ includes— SMUT 18+, corruption kink, semi public sex, mentions of eddie getting a boner in a church lol, unprotected p in v, (please wear protection!!) hand over mouth muffling, slight breeding kink, shitty ending!!!!!!
a/n— based off this lovely ask by @televisionboy pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!! <3
˖ ࣪⭑
The ceremony was over, rings slid over knuckles and vows spoken, sealing it all with what was supposed to be a pretty kiss, turned a little crude— with Eddie dipping you back, fingertips tracing along your spine whilst his lips worked against yours, all sloppy and full of tongue and spit.
But it was your day. Your’s and Eddie’s— Mr and Mrs Munson, it was kind of odd once you said it out loud, barely twenty-three and already hitched, but you were in love and still extremely touchy. That much was evident once his gaze had flitted to you when walking down the isle— satin dress all tight and short, neckline low enough so the weight of your tits filled out the space, jiggling with each coordinated step and a pretty veil surrounding your shoulders, littered with sparkles and rhinestones, glistening in the light that filtered through the stained glass.
Shit. He was already hard by the time you had stood beside him, joining hands at the altar and he had to subtly adjust the crotch of his slacks— in a mere second the holy space had turned quite hellish, though how could anyone blame him when you looked like that. So pretty.
His wife.
So, the reception began— a free bar and sabbath crackling through the shitty speakers, and it didn’t take long for your guests to become— with lack of a better word— wasted.
And they wouldn’t notice the two of you gone for a little while…right?
˖ ࣪⭑
“Shit, sweetheart, been hard since we said our vows—” he groaned, palms heavy on your hips and kneading at the fatty parts, letting them slip, down, down and squeezing at the soft globes of your ass— prominent from underneath the tight satin. “You tryin’ to kill me?”
You beamed up at him, lazy smile and hooded eyes, a little inebriated by too much champagne and his kisses— hands smushed against his cheeks and continuously pecking, one, two, three, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth and lathering your tongue against it.
“Can’t believe you had a boner in front of the vicar, Ed.” You stifled a laugh, cheeks warming and you heard his chest rumble, pushing you further against the bathroom counter and urging you to jump up, helping you slide your ass against the cool marble, back pressing snug against the mirror while you started for the crimson silk of his tie.
You marvelled at him, the same as you had many times that night, cooing and batting your lids at how handsome he looked, all dressed up.
“So pretty, Eds—” your lips curved, tugging at the knot between his collar and easing it from his neck, haphazardly pushing the buttons through the holes while he sucked on the delicate skin of your neck, heavy with your perfume and slick with your sweat, he inhaled it deeply. “Can’t believe you’re all mine.”
Eddie tugged at your hair, tilting your chin and roaming at the new amount of skin revealed— the calluses on his palms were rough on your chest while they smoothed over the swell of your tits, carefully pushing away the flimsy straps that held your dress up and pulling the cups down, the weight of your tits heavy and spilling free, nipples hardening even with the stuffy atmosphere and he felt like drooling at the sight.
“My wife.” He spoke, simple and syrupy— eyes all gooey and soft, leaning forward to stop your ministrations to nuzzle the curve of his nose against yours. Sweet and not a care in the world in the moment, as if you weren’t having a quickie in the women’s restroom clad in your wedding attire. “when we get to the hotel room, I’m totally gonna love on you properly— candles and all that shit.”
But for now, he thought, he was gonna ruin you— taint the innocence of your dress and pretty veil, leave you impure and drooling, begging to serve like a good wife does.
His cock was swelling uncomfortably, pressing tight against his slacks, almost busting the zipper and he took a hold of your throat, squeezing at the sides, feeling the pre-cum start to drip once that look he knew so well dripped along your features then settled— dumbified and longing, honeyed irises turning glassy, lips all pouty and puffy.
All for him to corrupt. His pretty little bride.
“There she is.” Eddie cooed, pushing the skirt of your dress upwards, grabbing a fistful and tucking it underneath your bra— keeping it there so there wasn’t any interruptions between him and your pretty pussy.
The fabric was crinkling, and if you weren’t so inebriated from his existence, you would’ve berated him for it.
But you were in far too deep.
“You been thinkin’ about this too, haven’t you, sweetheart?” He mocked, tugging at the silk that covered your cunt, snapping the elastic crudely against your tummy, fingers dipping in, only for them to dip back out again. “Saw you watchin’ me, baby— looked like a little bitch in heat, clenchin’ your thighs and everything.”
Your cheeks flushed, heat travelling down your neck and right to your core, leaving your clit pulsing and restless, eager for EddieEddieEddie.
You nodded, big pout much akin to your big eyes, staring up at him and fiddling with his open shirt.
“Couldn’t help it, Eds,” you whined, head spinning from the constant pressing underneath the elastic. “You’re gonna be mine forever— gets me so worked up.”
He grinned, finally pulling your panties down your thighs and shoving them into his back pocket.
“My husband.” You hummed, cunt clenching at the mere sound on your tongue. Fuck, you loved the way it sounded.
“Aw shucks, honey, you really are tryna make me blush, hm?”
And he was, cherry blush smeared along his cheeks and down his neck, you could see it littering his collar bones and flickering down the span of his chest— black button up open and flowing at his sides.
Eddie took his first look at your pretty pussy, different now you were married, much more beautiful and it made his mouth water— so puffy and glistening with your slick, so wet you were dripping onto the counter beneath you, and he marvelled at the way you clenched around nothing.
“Shit, sweetheart, I need to be inside you,” he rushed out, pulling at his slacks and you helped him with his briefs, wet spot apparent and seam almost splitting at how tight they had become. “Promise I’ll eat this pussy later— treat you real nicely, like a little princess, hm?”
His cock was out, thick and long, looming over your pussy while he held it there, before smacking the head against your clit.
“That okay, baby? Gonna let me use you for a bit before I’m all sweet on you?”
Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, whining at his choice of words and the way his mushroomed tip nudged at your clit, pre-cum spreading along your slit and folds and making you even stickier than before.
“Yeah— need it s’bad.” You gurgled, tongue practically lolling out the side of your mouth and fingers clutching at his forearms, leaving crescent moons in their wake. “Want you to use me, Ed— use your wife.”
He groaned at your filthy mouth, though it wasn’t anywhere near as filthy as his and held the base of his cock, easing the head to your entrance and slipping slowly inside.
Your slick made it easy, slipping right in with barely any resistance, though the squeeze of your walls when you clenched around him had his knees starting to buckle.
“F-fuck, sweet girl—” he whined, bottoming out to the hilt, balls heavy against your ass and cock so full inside you, stretching you out and splitting you in two. “Look like a fuckin’ angel.”
You did, practically glowing, or maybe that was the sweat… or the champagne, though whatever it was, you looked beautiful— pure and sweet, pouting up and him, almost begging to be corrupted and dirtied. The thought made you pulse, made him twitch.
You were already babbling expletives, dirty words dripping from your tongue like honey, all while your lids started to grow heavier and heavier.
“Supposed to be my good little wife, honey—” he managed, groan rumbling in his chest and palms pawing at your tits. “You sure have got a filthy mouth.”
He had the audacity to smirk, balls deep inside, trying not to thrust too hard otherwise he’d cum too soon— though he still thought it was fitting to smirk.
You clenched around him. Hard. Wanting so badly to give him a taste of his own medicine and give him a little cocky smirk back, though with the way he pounded and the way his pretty tip nudged at your g-spot, you weren’t quite sure you could.
“Oh, pretty baby’s all fucked out.” He cooed with faux concern, mocking the pout that stayed put on you lips and he quickly leaned down to press a kiss to them. “Wanna say I’ll go easy on you, sweetheart, but you know I couldn’t do that.”
One quick peck, another, and another— one, two, three, before he slipped his tongue inside, swiping it along your molars and flicking it against your own appendage, heavy with spit, and laced with his throaty moans, going nicely with your pretty whines.
Eddie couldn’t deny the way your noises affected him, hardening him further if that was even possible and leaving his thrusts to get harder— however the two of you had to be somewhat quiet, and though the thought of getting walked in on at any moment was quite electrifying, you didn’t really want any of your family getting an eyeful of the two of you fucking like little bunnies in season.
He’d have to find a way to shut you up one way or another.
So, he pressed his palm heavily over your mouth, muffling your cries to a dull vibration against the lines of his hand— his new ring glistening in the light, showing the both of you how real it was that the two of you were married. In sickness and in health.
“Should’ve put my cock down your throat,” he sighed, trying to suppress his own crude noises with a bite to his bottom lip. “Would’a made you all quiet then, wouldn’t it, dirty girl.”
You were whining still, fluttering your lids when your moans were stifled, finding purchase in grabbing at his chest and clawing at his pecs, easing a groan in return, which you would’ve shushed if it wasn’t for your occupied mouth.
His other hand smoothed over your thigh, kneading at the thickness before travelling upwards, grabbing a handful of tit and squeezing it, thumb and forefinger pinching at your nipple and watching it grow impossibly harder at the cruel action.
Your eyes started to roll back, your nails began to claw deeper.
“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he cooed, “jus’ wanna let everyone know how good you’re feeling, don’t you?”
You nodded as best you could in the hazy state you were in, thick with fog and eyes lined with tears, now streaming down your cheeks, and you were certain your pretty makeup had turned into a muddy mess— mascara streaks and all that.
“Yeah, that’s right, but you gotta be quiet, baby— gotta be good and make me proud.”
You were close, and he could feel it— hugely familiar with the way your orgasm grew, the way you clenched much harder than normal, pussy pulsing and clit thumping along with your heart, creaming his cock completely and you hadn’t even slipped over the edge yet.
He was close too, stuttering breaths and shortened thrusts, a little sloppy, though still just as delicious, you could feel him twitch inside you, hot and heavy, so ready to burst.
“You ready to cum, baby? Can feel you clenchin’ real hard.” His fringe stuck to his forehead, slick with sweat and you brought a hand up to push it out of the way, a few wisps getting caught in his vision. “Such a dirty girl— does bathroom sex really do it for you?”
Bastard.
“Shit— gonna cum too—” he squeezed his eyes closed, bracing his free hand on the counter and clutching at the edge with tightened fingers. “you ready for my cum, honey? Ready to have my babies? We’ve waited this long, sweet girl, might as well start now.”
You whined and cried out, wanting so badly to scream, though his palm kept that from you.
“Yeah, I know you want it.” He cooed, “make me a real daddy.”
It was in unison when you came— thick ropes of cum painting your inner walls, filling you up and spreading warmth throughout, while you pulsed and spasmed, creaming his cock and dripping all over the bathroom tiles, drool slipping from your mouth and along his hand, escaping the confines and sliding down your neck and pooling at your heaving chest.
So messy.
You felt sated— both of you did, glowing and completely spent, cuddling up to each other as close as you could even in the awkward position.
Until there was a knock.
“Excuse me, is there anyone in there?”
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appocalipse · 9 days
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never mine ✧ eddie munson
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bartender!eddie x fem!reader • old friends to lovers • chapter 01 • 3.5k words
ೃ ✦ ✧ ∗ ❥ ҉
Summary: After everything that had happened with Vecna and the Upside Down, Eddie Munson left Hawkins as soon as you and the rest of your friends managed to clear his name. And you understood why Eddie and his uncle had made that decision. Truly, you did; Eddie's innocence had been proven, yes, but Hawkins was a small town and some people would always turn up their noses at them. It didn't mean you didn't miss Eddie, or think about him over the course of the next decade. Somehow, in your heart, you always felt that one day you would meet him again. The last place you thought that would happen, though, was at a bar — that Eddie, now in his early thirties, owns in New York.
ೃ ✦ ✧ ∗ ❥ ҉
It isn't the type of bar you usually frequent.
For starters, it's tucked away on a relatively quiet street in Brooklyn instead of being one of those swanky, pop-up bars you've gotten used to seeing all over Manhattan since moving here from Boston last year. Also, it's more rustic than sleek, more dark than trendy, its exterior walls adorned with faded red bricks, its small windows lined with black frames. It seems almost like an anachronism among the new construction that has been sprouting up all over this part of the neighborhood.
But even before you get close enough to see what the sign reads, something about this little place feels oddly familiar. In some intangible way, it reminds you of a time you left behind when you moved here: your years spent growing up in a sleepy Indiana town named Hawkins.
And maybe it's just because it's clearly about to rain — the air wet and misty, as though a storm is coming — but right now, for reasons you can't explain, you feel compelled to enter.
So you take a deep breath, open the heavy wooden door and step inside.
The inside is as rustic as the outside, with one long bar stretching across most of the space, booths running along the adjacent walls, and several tables scattered in the center beneath the glow of dim, gold lights. A jukebox quietly plays 'In Bloom' by Nirvana at the back. And just like outside, everything feels achingly familiar, a wave of nostalgia you don't quite understand crashing into you so intensely that you have to grip one of the barstools tightly to steady yourself.
"One sec, doll. Be right with ya!"
He's not really looking at you when he says those words. He's got his back turned, hands busy preparing a drink at the far end of the bar, head just barely visible as he hunches over to scoop ice cubes from the metal container beside him. You can't see much from where you're standing — he's wearing a denim jacket rolled up to his elbows, hair pulled up into a messy bun at the top of his head — but there's something about his voice, sweet yet gravelly, something about what little you can see of his face that makes your breath catch in your throat.
And then he straightens up, turns around. And you both freeze, staring at each other.
Eddie Munson.
It's impossible. But it's him; the same Eddie who sold you weed a couple times your senior year of high school. The same Eddie you grew to call a friend before he left Hawkins without even saying goodbye. The same Eddie whose name still leaves a dull ache in your chest if you think about it too long.
Ten years later, and he's somehow more handsome than ever, all grown up. His hair is a little shorter, curlier than you remember. He's wearing dark-wash jeans and a navy Henley beneath his scuffed leather jacket. That playful expression you once found so adorable is now made even more endearing by a small scar across one eyebrow. And those eyes — a warm brown, expressive as always — are locked onto yours as his lips part, slightly agape.
"Y/N?"
Your heart pounds in your ears when you nod. It's hard to tell what emotion lies behind his gaze, but after a few seconds of staring at you like this, he slowly places the drink he was preparing down on the bar countertop and all but runs toward you, a giant grin lighting up his face.
He nearly knocks you off your feet with the force of his hug, pulling you tight against him.
But you're not complaining.
You cling to him just as tightly, your cheek pressed against his chest. The scent of cedar and tobacco mixed with something else — something unmistakably Eddie — overwhelms your senses as he picks you up a few inches off the ground and spins you around with an excited laugh, making you wrap both arms around his neck for stability.
"Jesus Christ," he exclaims, setting you down before gently taking hold of your shoulders. "I can't believe it's really you."
For the briefest moment, it almost feels as though you've gone back in time, returned to 1986 — the year everything changed forever — right after defeating Vecna for good and before Eddie moved away with his uncle, Wayne, just days before you followed suit to leave for college.
And it seems impossible — ridiculous, really — that you should both be standing here, in this bar in New York of all places, years and years later. So you just stand there blinking, speechless, trying to make sense of it all with the most stunned smile plastered across your face.
"I—"
"What's going on out here?" someone yells from the other side of the room. "For fuck's sake, Ed, if you're gonna flirt with another customer, do it a little more quietly."
At that, Eddie drops his hands from your shoulders and turns toward the woman speaking, more amused than you've ever seen him. He playfully sticks his tongue out at her before giving you a wink.
"Sorry about that," he chuckles.
The woman leans forward a little bit, squinting as though she can't quite believe what she sees. Then a smile stretches across her face, too. "Wait, aren't you–"
"Yes," Eddie interrupts. "It's her, Dottie."
The woman — Dottie — seems to be in her 50s, with shoulder-length blond hair streaked with gray and a sleeve of colorful tattoos on one arm. When she strides toward you, she's wearing an easy smile that crinkles the corners of her green eyes, extending her hand to you over the bar.
"Hey there. I'm Dorothea, but everyone calls me Dottie. You must be the girl that Eddie—"
Eddie quickly steps in between you. "We were just catching up, actually," he explains. "Do you mind giving us a few minutes to ourselves? Great, thank you."
He doesn't give her time to respond; Eddie kisses the back of Dottie's hand and grins, then wraps his fingers around your wrist as he drags you behind the bar, through a set of double doors leading to a stairwell.
"Mind the step, sweetheart, it's a little steep," he cautions, keeping a tight grip on you as you both ascend the stairs.
And maybe it's because you're just getting over a breakup, but your stomach flutters from the nickname, from the way his thumb draws gentle circles into your skin.
This isn't the first time he's called you sweetheart. You don't know why it affects you differently now.
"Where are we going?"
He doesn't answer until the two of you reach the top of the stairs, at which point he drops his hand from your wrist and faces you.
"Well, here we are!" he announces, stretching out his arms and turning in a full circle. "Home, sweet home."
You blink as you look around, realizing you're standing inside an apartment — presumably Eddie's — whose open floor plan means you can see straight into the kitchen and living room.
"I can't believe you live here," you mumble, more to yourself than anything else.
A large black sofa sits opposite the TV, a coffee table littered with beer bottles, candles and an ashtray between them. There's a little dining room table for four beside the couch, across from the galley kitchen where the counters are covered with dirty dishes. But despite the mess, everything still feels very... cozy, somehow. Welcoming.
Eddie chuckles, reaching behind himself to loosen the hair tie at the base of his skull. A few tendrils fall loose across his forehead as he tousles his hair, then combs his fingers through it. You feel something twist in your abdomen, your breath hitching in your throat.
Fuck, you think. That's distracting.
"Yeah, me either sometimes," he says with a shrug. "But it's got a roof, a bathroom and a bed. It used to be Dottie's, but now that she and Wayne are married, she decided to move in with him instead."
"Your uncle got married?"
Eddie nods, and the expression that settles in his features softens as he talks about his uncle.
"They met at the bar. Got hitched a few years ago, have a little place not far from here. It's cute, really. Like a little love story for old folks or something. But yeah, this place is all mine now. Not bad, huh?"
Your heart aches a little hearing this — not because you're sad that his uncle found love (you do feel happy for him), but because you hadn't realized how much you've missed in the last decade, how much of Eddie's life you weren't around for.
Still, you smile.
"Not bad at all," you agree.
Eddie's returning grin is more hesitant this time. As if he wants to say more, but he's unsure of how.
"I missed you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
Because you had; so much more than you ever knew was possible. Even when you'd only grown close to him for a few weeks before he moved away, he had managed to make such an impression on you that his absence became a wound you couldn't quite heal, no matter how many years passed.
So for the longest time, you told yourself that he'd probably forgotten all about you anyway, since he never tried to contact you after he left. It was easier that way, somehow. Better than waiting for something that would never happen.
"Me too," Eddie breathes, voice so quiet you might have imagined it. "Me too, sweetheart."
For a second, you can't breathe.
When you do, you inhale his scent, a hint of weed and tobacco mixed with cedar. His cologne, then, you suppose. And there's something entirely new, too, something that belongs uniquely to him.
You stare at Eddie, trying to find the right words, but all you can manage to utter is:
"Really?"
His eyebrows knit together in confusion. Maybe concern, too.
"What? Why do you seem surprised?"
"No, I just–" you trail off, thinking. "I dunno. I guess I just...figured you wouldn't even remember me after so long. It's been...what? Ten years?"
"You thought I didn't remember you?" he asks incredulously, and those deep brown eyes widen a fraction.
You bite your lip, sheepish. "I don't know. Maybe. A little bit," you confess, looking away.
Eddie exhales a half-chuckle.
"Sweetheart, you're — Jesus — you're not exactly easy to forget," he utters softly, almost like he hopes you won't hear.
You can't help but laugh at this, although your cheeks immediately warm up, burning like fire. "Says you."
There's something almost bashful in the way Eddie smiles, his gaze cast downward as he reaches for a strand of hair and curls it around one finger.
"Don't you wanna sit down?" he asks. "I'll get you something to drink. Any preference?"
"Whatever you're having is fine," you reply, still a little overwhelmed by everything that's happening as he gestures for you to take a seat on his sofa.
"Alrighty. Just wait here. One sec."
As you make yourself comfortable on the black leather, you notice several framed photographs atop the mantle of the fireplace. Most of the pictures depict Eddie with people you've never met — a tall, handsome black man, a blond guy, a girl with short, spiky hair and a tattooed arm — but the one you can't look away from is a smaller frame with a picture of you, Dustin and the rest of your friends squeezed tightly together, the sun setting behind you.
It was taken after you beat Vecna in 1986. Before Eddie moved. Before you did, too. Everyone in the picture looks dirty and exhausted, but there's also an air of celebration hanging over all of you that you can clearly see just by the wide, gleeful smiles stretching across your faces.
"It's a real shame you ever doubted it, by the way."
Eddie's voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you turn around to find him already halfway to the couch. He's holding two beers in his hands.
"I wasn't—I didn't mean to pry or anything," you explain, your heart beating a little faster.
He shrugs as he hands you one of the beers and takes a seat beside you, close enough for you to feel his thigh press against yours.
"Nah, it's okay," he assures, his gaze traveling to the picture you were examining a few seconds ago. "That's a good memory."
You nod in agreement as you bring the bottle to your lips. It's cool and refreshing against your tongue, but not as calming as you need it to be.
"I'm sorry for just barging in here, by the way. I don't actually know why I came in the first place, I just... felt like something was pulling me in," you tell him.
And it's true; that strange sense of familiarity that tugged you forward earlier today has started to fade, now replaced by a comforting warmth that feels like coming home.
Eddie snorts a laugh before taking a swig of his beer.
"Sorry, I'm just making it weirder and weirder, aren't I?" you groan, leaning forward to place your beer on the coffee table.
Eddie sets his down, too.
"No, you're not, sweetheart," he soothes, taking one of your hands in his and rubbing a calloused thumb over your knuckles. "Why would you think that?"
You can't look at him when you answer.
"I don't know, I just... I spent years wondering about what happened to you after you left Hawkins, and then I randomly show up here, and now we're just sitting on your couch like we haven't spent ten years apart? It feels insane."
There's something unreadable in the way he's looking at you, then.
"You look really pretty, by the way," Eddie says.
Your heart is thumping so loudly you worry he can hear it.
"Oh yeah?" you tease with a grin, desperate to hide the fact that you can feel yourself blush all the way up to the tips of your ears. "Prettier than when we were twenty-one?"
The grin he flashes you is bright and lopsided, playful.
"Way, way prettier, actually," he drawls.
Your brain seems to malfunction after this, his words playing on a loop, over and over and over again inside your head. And all you can do is return his smile, feeling a pleasant heat pool in your belly that has nothing to do with alcohol. "Eddie Munson, are you flirting with me?"
He laughs at this — a genuine, low chuckle.
"Depends. Is it working?"
Yes, you think.
"Not at all."
"Liar," he smirks before raising the hand he's still holding and pressing a kiss to its back. "Then yes, I am."
Your breath catches in your throat, a thrill running down your spine as Eddie holds your gaze with a small smile. But then it fades, replaced by something more serious as he absentmindedly traces a pattern onto your palm with his fingertip.
"Can I ask you something?"
You nod. He lets go of your hand.
"If you're here, does that mean you're also living in New York?" he asks, eyes filled with a cautious hope as he stares at you. "Or did you just happen to be passing through on vacation?"
"I moved here a year ago," you tell him, biting your bottom lip. "I can't believe you're really here. What are the chances, right?"
It feels like some kind of cosmic joke. And while you never quite stopped hoping that you and Eddie might meet again someday, you didn't expect it to happen like this. In a bar. In New York.
Ten years later.
"Fate works in mysterious ways, huh?"
"You sound like an old man."
He chuckles at your teasing tone before bending forward, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together in front of him.
"I just—this is gonna sound totally lame, but..."
Eddie trails off, chewing on his lower lip as he searches your eyes.
"Go ahead," you urge gently.
He runs a hand through his hair, pushing a few strands away from his face as he takes a deep breath.
"When I left Hawkins, I felt like a fucking idiot because I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to you. Not really, I mean. And I—shit, I really wanted to. More than anything. So... the reason why I left without saying anything was because I was scared that if I saw you one last time, I'd lose my nerve and not leave at all. And...I know, I know it's dumb, because we had only known each other for a couple of weeks, but—"
"It's not dumb," you assure him. "Not to me, at least."
It's one thing knowing someone for a long period of time and losing them. But when you grow attached to someone so quickly, so suddenly — like you did with Eddie — it leaves an emptiness behind. Something you can't quite fill, nor begin to explain to anyone else without feeling as though you're speaking nonsense.
"It's not?"
"No. Not at all."
And you wonder if he can see the vulnerability in your eyes when you reach forward and brush your fingertips over his. It's all you dare to do, all the courage you can muster, but he responds by uncurling his own and sliding them between your palms. His hand feels warm, smooth. Cold where the silver of his rings touches your skin.
"I never forgot you, you know? And I—" he stops, and you watch him swallow hard. "Shit. Sorry. You're gonna think I'm a creep."
"Try me."
The smile on his face is shy and endearing, his cheeks flushed pink when he admits: "Sometimes I have this...dream."
You cock your head to one side, curious. "What about?"
"About you."
Eddie glances down at his hand in yours, studying it for a moment like it's the most interesting thing in the room.
"Mostly about that night you saved me. You know, from the bats."
"I didn't save you," you protest. "I just...I got lucky."
He scoffs, shakes his head like that's the most preposterous thing he's ever heard.
"Sweetheart, I was half dead when you showed up. If it wasn't for you, I would be completely dead right now."
You glance at Eddie's side, where you remember him having an angry, festering wound when you found him. You wonder if the scar is still there, if it bothers him.
"Maybe," you concede, and his smile returns. "So you dream about that?"
"Among other things. Yeah."
Your heart hammers in your chest as you consider what those other things might be, his gaze intense upon you as you nervously wet your bottom lip with your tongue.
"Other things?" you repeat.
"Other things," he confirms. "I might tell you about 'em sometime if you play your cards right, though."
"Oh, right," you muse, pulling your hands away from his with a soft chuckle. "This is you flirting, isn't it?"
"So what if it is?" he asks, grinning as he leans back on the couch cushion.
You don't miss the way he looks at you, the same way he used to in high school whenever he was trying to get under your skin, to rile you up. And it seems that — even after all these years, with you all grown up, both of you in your early thirties — he hasn't lost his touch.
"So what if it is," you echo.
Eddie raises both eyebrows, smirking. "Guess you're gonna have to come back sometime if you wanna find out. You know, just to be sure."
"I—" you hesitate, realizing you hadn't considered the possibility of leaving before, too caught up in the whirlwind of seeing him again after so long. "Shit, yeah, I should...I should go, I've kept you long enough as it is. I should let you get back to work—"
You move to stand up, but a gentle hand on your arm stops you.
"Wait," he pleads, voice soft. "Do you...have anywhere you gotta be? Anywhere you need to rush off to?"
"Um—" you look down at the floorboards, shifting your weight from foot to foot. "Just my bed? It's getting late. Well, not really, but...it will be soon?"
The tension slowly eases from Eddie's body as he relaxes, his expression becoming playful.
"Are you asking or telling?" he teases.
You sigh.
"I don't wanna intrude."
"You're not. At all," Eddie says firmly, his words a promise. "Besides, you still have a lot to catch me up on. So you can tell me all about whatever boring day job you landed now that you're living the big apple life, and I'll tell you about my band, which has a gig tomorrow, by the way, so you're definitely coming to see it."
"Wow, you're bossy now," you point out.
His eyes gleam as they hold yours, and when he speaks, his voice is husky, full of mischief.
"You have no idea, sweetheart."
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madelynraemunson · 7 days
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do not — under ANY circumstances — think about trusting eddie with the remote to your vibrator.
because that fucker would be a menace about it, switching it on at the most inconvenient times when you’re in public… just to illicit some sort of response from you.
like turning on setting #1 in the middle of the grocery aisle, while you’re bent over and looking at the produce. he'd watch you jolt back up and shoot him a disapproving glare, all while doing your best not to cum right on the spot.
"clean up on aisle seven," eddie would joke.
and he'd do setting #2 when you two are out with friends. maybe you're laughing at one of harrington's jokes a little too hard and eddie can't find himself to admit that he's just a little bit jealous. so out of retaliation, setting #2 would serve as a blissful reminder from the night before, when eddie was tonguing you to tears on the kitchen island, his thick fingers pulsing in and out of you while you desperately ride his face, your body shaking and dumbing out more and more with every euphoric shockwave into your clit.
“you okay?” steve asks you when he hears the fortified moan marinating at the back of your throat.
“yeah,” you pant, knees bucking as you grip onto the corner of the table for dear life. “just hit my knee on the table, that's all.”
setting #3 is abrupt. unforgiving. you’re doing something as simple as laundry; but the way you strut around the house in your messy bun has him in so much heat that eddie needs you back in bed. or on the couch. or any piece of furniture in the house really.
and when you dart into the master bedroom, you're stunned to see your husband laying on his bed, lazily stroking his stiff cock with blissed-out hooded eyes as he watches his muse grow more frustrated with him, hands on your hips at the doorway.
"really, eds?" you hiss, though towards the end of your plea, it melts into a moan. "i know what you're doing and it's not going to work."
"looks like i gotta get more creative then," he quips, smirking to himself as if he's got... quite literally... something up his sleeve. "you down to try setting #4?"
confused, as there are only three settings, you ask him,
"what's setting #4?"
"you're looking at it," he comments cockily.
do NOT think about it…
or do. idc.
divider @mikeykuns
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robbie-verse · 1 year
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is this 'the eddie munson doctrine' u guys have been talking about ??
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parkermunson · 1 year
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we all talk about kinky Eddie but what about goofy, giggly sex? let's be honest, eddie is a menace sometimes [18+ obv]
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eddie gets over-excited and accidentally bumps your teeth when kissing. he pulls away feigning hurt, holding his lip with a pout, just to laugh and say "just jokin, sweetheart"
eddie pushes you on his bed and your head bumps the wall a little. you spend the next 5 minutes convincing him you're totally fine and you should really get back to the task at hand because you're so. turned. on.
eddie who gets ahead of himself and tries taking off his jeans while walking only to fall flat on his face. you can't help but break down laughing and neither can he
you're on top riding him like your life depends on it and he grips your hips harshly to stop. you look at him confused only to watch him swat your hair away from his face and fake cough
you change positions to missionary. you're so close, eddie is too, but then "fuck, CRAMP. CRAMP! MY LEG"
eddie's back to grinding into you, faces so close together intimately. "did you have.. *sniff* garlic for lunch?"
stopping midthrust to sneeze
he stops again moments later, sighs and mentions he forgot to do something. "it can wait... no it can't." he grabs a shirt to place in front of him and runs out of his room. you hear a bunch of clanking metal then he's back. "wayne wanted me to take food out of the freezer for him. nearly knocked over the fridge, i was moving too fast"
he climbs on top and puts his cold hands on your belly
gets too excited and keeps missing your hole.
he's thrusting in you when you put your hand on his chest to stop him. "i hate this song." "babe, we talked about this. sabbath will never get turned off during sex." "but can't you change just this song? lower it maybe??" he pulls out, walks to the stereo, and turns it up
you get on your knees in front of him, his hands dig into your hair. he stops you just as your mouth is about to devour him, "nope, you're right. this song sucks"
your mouth is gliding over his cock, his hand is gripping your hair. he's thrusting into your mouth but pulls out suddenly. gasping, "that was a close one. almost came in your mouth when it's your puss-puss that's hungry." you grimace at his words. "yeah, i heard how bad that sounded too but i ran with it anyway"
you're back on top riding him, this time with your hair in a bun. you start slow, but get impatient and start bouncing quicker. you've both been waiting for release and now you finally get to it. eddie's fingers are digging into your hips while your nails are clawing into his upper chest. you ride it out and collapse on top of him, your breathing synchronises as it slowly comes down
you sit up and look down at him. "hi," you whisper. "hi," he chuckles back.
eventually you get up and both of you slide some underwear on. he turns to you with a hand held up toward you. "great teamwork back there, champ." he's expecting a high five but you just shake your head and make your way toward the bathroom. "well.. practice is same time next week"
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Note
Could you imagine going on a late night walk with Eddie and you get to the lake and no one’s there and ofc he looks so good you just can’t resist giving him a blowjob???
both characters are over 18, warning for smut
The knock on your door doesn’t surprise you in the least. You’re already dressed, if you can consider pyjama pants and an oversized hoodie dressed. Eddie usually knocked on your door in the late hours of the day, when he knew you would be wide awake on the couch. Sometimes he would come in, but your favourite times were always when he told you to get your shoes on.
“C’mere.” He tugs at you as you slip your shoes on. His hands are warm as the cold air nips your nose. Your hoodie is one of his, so it does it’s job of keeping you warm.
“Hi Ed.” You kiss him in greeting. He tastes like coffee but you don’t comment on how late it is to be drinking caffeine.
“Hi sweetheart.” He interlocks your fingers as he leads the way out of your neighbourhood. It’s a peaceful night and you don’t talk much on the walk to the lake. Neither of you had a lot of free time, so it was nice to relax when spending time together.
You often ended up at Lover’s lake on this late night walks. You supposed it was the calming scent of the water that drew Eddie in, pulling you along with him. What he didn’t know if all you cared about was the way the moonlight illuminated his pretty face.
“Let’s sit here for a minute okay?” You mumble to Eddie, tugging him down with you. You’re on the edge of the forest with a perfect view of the lake. He offers no complaint, sitting next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
“Did you have a good day at work?” You ask, voice muffled as you press your face into his chest.
“It wasn’t too bad. Long as hell though.” He rubs your back as you scoot impossibly closer to him.
“You shouldn’t work so hard. Isn’t good for you.” You press a kiss to his jaw and his gaze shifts from the water to your face.
“It’s not so bad.” He denies, but his face tells a different story. You knew that some days it all got to be too much for him. That he just wanted to curl up and sleep for a million years. You couldn’t give him that, but you could help him relax tonight.
“Lemme make you feel good?” You practically whisper as you climb into his lap and straddle him. He leans back just a little to rest against the tree behind him as his eyes scan the area behind you. When he confirms you two are alone, he nods and places a kiss on your lips.
“Alright sweetheart. I’ll pay you back later alright?” He offers, ever the gentleman. You start to undo his pants, his hardness already straining against the fabric.
“Fuck…” He whispers under his breath as you gently stroke his cock. You’ve been with Eddie long enough to know exactly what drives him crazy. You run your tongue over the tip, basking in the soft gasp he makes at the feeling.
“How are you so good at this…” He mumbles, pushing some of your hair back as you take more of him into your mouth. Eddie does his best to let you lead but he can’t help the way he gently presses your head down.
“You can take it baby, I know you can.” He remarks as your eyes flick up to him. You allow him to take control as he moves your head up and down his shaft. His eyes squeeze shut as he focuses on the feeling of your mouth around him. He looks so pretty like this you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together, mind filling with thoughts of him underneath you. But you focus on this for now, running your tongue along the underside of his cock.
“God…” He tosses his head back, hips starting to fuck into your mouth. You’re prepared for it of course, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth as he cums. You swallow as much as you can, using your tongue to clean him off as he pants.
“Such a good girl…” There’s a fucked out look in his eyes as you tuck his cock back into his pants and climb back into his lap. You rest your head on his chest as he wraps his arms around you.
“I love you Ed.”
“I love you too sweetheart. More than you’ll ever know.”
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hellfire--cult · 2 months
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thinking about how Eddie would love on you like no man has ever done before
thinking how he would say sorry for things he didn't even do wrong and you have to remind him that he is not always at fault
thinking how he would act in public with you, showing you off, kissing your hand, and even with friends with his arm around your shoulders
thinking how he would be loving when intimate, but also dominant and possessive if the night is right for it
thinking how he would be excited to move on from his past story to start anew with you
thinking how happy he would be by you just baking some cookies in the kitchen
thinking how grateful he is for having you in his life
thinking how he never thought he'd find someone at all, and yet there you were
thinking how he would risk everything for you, without asking for anything back
and the thing is, and he doesn't know, that you think, do and would do everything that was said above.
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nowgiveusakiss · 2 years
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18+ nsfw under the cut. minors dni
you cannot and will not ever convince me that eddie doesn’t get off on mocking you. in and out of the bedroom. he LOVES it.
outside the bedroom, he’s mocking your huffs and groans of frustration. he tells you he has to work later than usual so he won’t make it to dinner tonight so you give him a pout and a ‘hmph’. eddie crosses his arms and stomps his foot dramatically, rolling his eyes and tossing his head back. a high pitched ‘hmph’ leaving his lips. you’re immediately protesting his actions but he just gives you a smile accompanied by a kiss to your forehead. all your little noises are immediately followed by a higher pitched version from eddie.
but his favorite is when you guys are with your little group of friends. steve is arguing with him about the best ice cream flavor. steve thinks his brief employment at scoops ahoy makes him qualified to assert the best flavor. eddie is insisting mint chocolate chip is the superior flavor while steve is baffled by eddie’s audacity to even suggest such a monstrosity. you’re interrupted from your conversation with robin by an angry shout of your name from steve.
“what’s the best flavor of ice cream? your boyfriend is a crazy person.” you laugh but take a moment to ponder the question. there are so many different flavors of ice cream, how could you choose just one? there’s classics like chocolate, vanilla, strawb-
“steve, c’mon man! you can’t ask her that in public. you know her favorite flavor of cream isn’t the frozen treat kind. right, babe?” eddie has the biggest shit eating grin on his face. everyone seems to think over the words he’s just said until it clicks. you’re mortified. face hot, eyes wide, jaw dropped.
“gross, dude!” robin is fake vomiting while steve shakes his head in disappointment but he’s not surprised. he is no stranger to comments like this from your boyfriend.
“eddie! oh my god!” you hide your face in your hands, wishing you could just disappear from the stares of your friends. it’s eddie’s high pitched, faux girly voice that causes you to lift your head.
“eddie! oh my god! it’s okay, baby. no need to be ashamed of the truth.” he’s trying to grab your hand but you’re not having any of it. you’re more embarrassed than mad at him but you’re still swatting his hand away. almost like you’re trying to punish him. you hear him breathe out a laugh before he cups your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look up at him.
“what’s wrong, baby? did i embarrass you in front of our friends? i’m so sorry. my poor baby. my poor girl.” you know he’s mocking you. and you know he’s enjoying it. he immediately notices the shift in your behavior as you start to melt for him. he can feel his cock twitch in his jeans at the sight of your puppy dog eyes. he knows he embarrassed you and he knew the comment would tick you off a little. but he just can’t help himself when you look so pretty like this. he promises you he won’t do it again but you both know that’s a total lie.
in the bedroom, he’s a whole other monster. when he’s feeling particularly dominant, he likes to have you completely bare. spread out and on full display, just for him. he stays fully clothed as he stands above you. it makes him feel powerful. you can feel him staring down at you and you want nothing more than to shy away from him. he’s not happy about that.
“why are you acting all shy now, pretty girl? weren’t you just begging me to use your throat like a fleshlight?” your body feels like it’s on fire. you try to close your legs but eddie is quick to pry them right back open. you can feel the cool air on your cunt. wetness sticking to your thighs. you can hear eddie’s contented sigh as he dips his fingers into your dripping hole and drags your slick up to your swollen bud. he hears your sharp inhale and can’t stop the cheshire grin from spreading across his face. he loves the sound of his name coming from you. the shape of your lips as it spills from your mouth. he’s in total awe of you. he wraps his hands around the back of your thighs to slide you down to the edge of the bed. he gets down on his knees, ready to worship the only god he believes in. you.
he’s now face to face with your cunt and he wants nothing more than to bury himself in it. suffocate himself in the nectar of the gods. but he wants to play with you. drag this ceremony of worship out for as long as you’ll allow. he dips his tongue at the very end of your slit and drags it all the way up, past your clit and over your mound to just under your belly button. he feels you buck your hips up to meet his touch. he coaxes you back down with a gentle but firm squeeze to your hips. his gaze finally meets yours and you feel your heart squeeze. his big round brown eyes looking up at you. seeing him on his knees like this feels like a religious experience. how is it possible to look so sinful yet so holy at the same time?
from where eddie is kneeling, he can see the rise and fall of your chest. every bump and curve you have to offer him. he wants to lick up every single valley and hill of your body. in this moment, he wants to be gentle with you. explore you. map your body and memorize it. but when he sees the way you’re looking at him, he’s not sure he’ll even make it long enough to do so. convinced he’ll die right there, between your legs. because you’re looking at him like he hung the moon and stars in the night sky. like he’s the sun and you’re lucky to be in his orbit. he realizes he’s been holding his breath as he exhales all the air from his lungs. only to suck it all back in as if you’ve breathed the life back into him. he finally returns his attention to his hands and how they look spreading the lips between your legs. eddie feels like he’s having an out of body experience as he takes in just how pretty your pussy is for him. he’s mesmerized by the way you’re sucking him in when he pushes his finger into your hole. a sharp gasp and a gentle moan from you hurtles him back to his body as he focuses now on drawing more of those sounds from you. he adds another finger and curls them up, in just the way he knows you love. it takes him no effort to find that spongy spot inside that makes you forget yourself.
“eddie, yes. right there..” you’re gasping for breath. a mess of moans and slurred words. drunk off of the feeling of his thick fingers buried deep inside your cunt. chunky rings grazing your entrance.
“right there?” eddie repeats your words back to you. you’re too gone to notice. it’s after those words that he pushes his fingers just a tad bit deeper and his thumb begins making slow circles on your swollen clit. eddie is analyzing your every move. committing it to memory. studying you. he can tell your climbing to your peak by the increase in your breathing and the way your thighs start to twitch.
“yeah.. oh my- fuck.” your hands are searching for something to hold onto. some way to ground yourself. you reach down to grip eddie’s forearm, leaving crescent shaped marks on his skin.
"yeah?" eddie pitches his voice up to match yours. this time you know what he's doing. you nod your head frantically in response, even though he wasn't really asking you a question. the room is filled with the squelch his fingers are making as he starts to speed up his movements. he can feel you clenching around him and he knows you're about to cum. he hears the gentle whisper of his name followed by a 'please' and his gaze flies up to your face. he takes in the way your eyebrows are furrowed. the way your mouth is parted slightly in a silent moan. the way your nose is scrunched up causing a small wrinkle to form.
"cum for me, princess. does it feel too good? is it just too much for you?" you're barely coherent but those words are enough to send you careening off the ledge. your head thrown back and cries of eddie's name and 'please' and 'feel so good'. eddie is practically humping the side of the bed to relieve some of the ache. he's painfully hard for you. especially from knowing his words were enough to make you unravel for him. he eases you down from your climax. slow strokes turning into barely there touches. he kisses the inside of your thigh before crawling over you to meet your lips in a sweet kiss. soft spoken 'i love you's' exchanged before he's finally pushing into you. not just fucking you. not just having sex with you. but making love with you.
however, he’s more prone to mocking your moans rather than your words when you’re having make up sex. the fight was over something trivial. a mug left on the counter or putting a new bag in the garbage can. stupid, really. but both of you were already running hot. stressful work days, friends begging to hang out, errands that need running. you’re the first to snap.
“can’t you just clean up after yourself for once? jesus christ.” you’re storming off to drop the plate left out on the table this morning in the sink. logically, you know it’s no big deal. eddie is usually pretty good about cleaning up his mess since you’ve moved in together. you feel bad almost immediately but now eddie is losing it too.
“what’s with the attitude? i am so sorry i accidentally left my plate out because i was running late. why was i almost late again? oh yeah, because my needy little girlfriend was begging me for five more minutes in bed.” you know you should be pissed at him calling you his needy girlfriend but your thighs are clenching together involuntarily to relieve the pressure growing between your legs. and he’s still dirty from being elbow deep in cars all day. it’s not your fault he looks so god damn sexy when he’s mad. eddie immediately catches on. damn him for being so good at reading you.. he is on you in a fraction of a second. he grips the fat of your thighs with his filthy hands, encouraging you onto the kitchen counter. he's pulling your skirt up and pushing your panties to the side as you're undoing his belt and shimmying his pants down his hips. your tongues are tangled in a sloppy wet kiss. eddie is nearly forcing his tongue down your throat. your biting his plump lips, earning a low growl from deep in his chest. he gives no warning before he's shoving himself to the hilt inside your cunt. you can feel his cock so deep inside you it feels like he's in your guts. you curse at the sudden intrusion but the shock turns to pleasure quickly as he starts pumping into you at a brutal pace.
"mmh.. eddie!" you're leaving harsh red lines on his back as you drag your nails all the way down his spine. he is grunting in your ear like a wild animal. he hopes you have a hard time walking tomorrow, wanting his harsh thrusts to feel like a punishment. he pulls his face from your neck. gripping your jaw in his hand so your cheeks are squished, you can see the fire in his brown (nearly black) eyes.
"mmh.. eddie! that's right. moan my name, slut. you can whine and complain at me all you want but at the end of the day, you're beggin' for me to fuck you like a bitch in heat. are you my little bitch?" he feels your warm walls clench around him so hard it almost knocks the air from his lungs, but he keeps his composure. he would never speak to you like this normally but he knows you're eating it up. he knows how much you love when he treats you like you're nothing but a street whore when he fucks you.
you know he's right. you are his bitch. and you wouldn't have it any other way. you can't form words so all you can give him is a nod and a moan in response. he moans back at you in the same tone. he can tell you're getting flustered. good, he thinks. he wants you to feel humiliated. when he starts to laugh at your shame, you whine at him. he's forcing you to look at him when he whines right back at you. every single noise you make, he's mimicking back to you. it makes his cock throb every time you try to shy away from him. he knows he's not going to last much longer.
keeping his grip on your face, he reaches his free hand down to play with your clit. he's not gentle about it. rubbing hard and fast at your sensitive button while still bullying your insides with his cock. your moans get higher. so his go even higher in an effort to mimic you. he knows you’re close. he can feel your walls pulse around him.
"you gonna cum all over my cock? i know you only act like this cause you miss me. but don't worry, i'm gonna make sure to fill my bitch so full of my cum. it'll be dripping out of you for days. now cum for me so i can breed you, you pretty bitch." you're tossing your head back, nearly slamming it to the kitchen wall if it weren't for eddie catching you. your brain goes fuzzy. you’re seeing stars behind your eyes. you feel white hot. you think you can hear the distant sound of you screaming out for eddie but you can't be for sure.
while you're blissed out, eddie is reaching his end. eyes locked on the creamy ring you've created around the base of his cock. wetting his happy trail. he's still rubbing harshly at your clit before he feels you gush around him. holy shit, you're fucking squirting on his cock. that sends him straight into his orgasm. a gasp of your name as he bites at the base of your neck. he's sure to leave a bruise that will no doubt last for days.
as you're on the come down, you can feel eddie filling you up. you can't help but sigh happily at the feeling. nothing feels better than having him mark you so deep inside. when he comes back around, he is immediately pulling you into a gentle kiss. he can tell you're still pretty fucked out and out of your body. he eases you back to reality with soft caresses and kisses. you start to reciprocate his touches and he knows you've come back to him.
"hi, baby. welcome back. how are you?" you nod softly and give him a small smile.
"words, my love. i need you to use your words." he presses kisses to both of your cheeks and a final one to your nose. making sure to hold eye contact with you to keep you connected to him.
"yeah, 'm okay. tired, eds." he softly chuckles as you slump into his chest. he pats your legs and you tighten them around his waist. he wastes no time in carrying you to the bathroom and running a bath. he knows he's not going to be able to keep you standing long enough for a shower, so a bath will have to do.
he settles in behind you as he slowly runs his hands all along your body, rubbing soap into the skin he can reach. the room falls peacefully silent besides the gentle sound of the water sloshing. eddie feels you stir a bit as you bend your neck to look back at him. he whispers a small 'hi' to you.
"i'm sorry, eds. i shouldn't have snapped at you like that. that was wrong of me. i know it's not an excuse but work has been so unbearable lately and i'm just really starting to feel it. you don't deserve to be my punching bag..." your eyes start to shine with unshed tears and eddie feels his heart crack a little. he knows you weren't really mad at him. he knows you were just having a moment, just as he does.
"hey, now. don't cry, baby. it's okay. you're okay. i'm not upset with you. i'm not mad at you. and i certainly am not your punching bag. please don't think i feel or have ever felt that way. you are allowed to have bad days. i have them too and i am no stranger to letting them trickle into our home. shit happens. i shouldn't have escalated things like i did and i'm sorry for that. i love you so much, princess." you lean up to give him a peck on the lips before a cheeky grin replaces the frown on your face.
"water under the bridge. i can't really be that mad considering i just got one of the greatest fucks of my life." eddie gives you a genuine laugh, one of those loud belly laughs of his.
"it was pretty fucking metal. i made you squirt. that was the hottest thing i think i've ever witnessed. you have to let me try that again."
this was kinda shit but i don’t consider myself a writer so i’m gonna give myself a pass. my first time ever writing smut so please go easy on me. i’m baby!!! also if i see any minors interacting, i’m sending my sleep paralysis demon to taunt you. and i’ll tattle on you to your parents. so fuck off.
likes are appreciated!! reblogs/comments… let me give you a lil kiss!!! a lil smoochie!!!
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pollenallergie · 2 months
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“Can you get Quarter Pounder? Sir, you’re telling me you wanna court her AND pound her???” - the joke that got Eddie Munson fired from McDonald’s in the summer of ‘85
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spectrum-spectre · 6 months
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hc that Eddie has the highest-pitch little kitten sneeze of all time. he HATES it, says it "ruins his image." he thinks it's SOOOOO embarrassing, and Steve thinks it is the CUTEST thing on the PLANET
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ddejavvu · 2 years
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Lost and Found - Eddie Munson x Reader (Part 1) | Part 2
WC: 4.3K / navi / preview / request
Summary: Just your luck, you get dress coded on your first day at Hawkins High. You're already ridiculed for being the senior transfer, and now on top of that, the only shirt that covers you up in the lost and found belongs to the school freak.
Contents/Warnings: reader wears eddie's shirt, reader gets bullied, lots of teasing, slight innuendos/suggestive material
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
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You must have set a new school record: You’ve only been attending Hawkins High for three hours, and you’ve already been dress coded. Apparently your shirt is too low-cut, even though it barely dips below your collarbones, and you were ordered to look through the lost-and-found for a suitable cover-up. 
It could be worse, you muse, as you sort through the box of slightly aromatic, ratty, dusty clothes, they could have put it on your school record. Though, as a senior transferring to the school for one last year, you don’t care what’s on your record. They could hate you, for all you care, as long as you graduate. It’s not like you’ll ever have to deal with them again.
Unfortunately, it looks like everything in the box before you is either three sizes too big, or three sizes too small. The beaded tank top that you pull out near the bottom is even worse than your shirt, and you guarantee it wouldn’t go over well with faculty. There’s a winter coat in the mix, but summer still clogs the air with sticky heat, and you refuse to cover yourself up with that. After sorting through the bin for almost five minutes, the only thing even remotely suitable for you is a baseball tee that looks like it’s homemade.
It’s a white shirt with black sleeves, and a ring around the neck. It’s certainly interesting. There’s a red devil on the front, horns protruding eerily from its head, and weapons frame its face, ready for battle. Then two multifaceted dice are poised below the text, numbers etched into their faces.
The bold black text over the picture reads ‘HELLFIRE CLUB,’ and it stinks of what you’re suspicious is weed. You’re not sure what the Hellfire Club is, you presume it’s an underground band of some sort, but you don’t have time to figure it out. There’s a red stain on the chest, what you presume (and pray) is spaghetti sauce, but it’s your best bet in the lost and found bin, so you slip it on and hope that they’ll let you go without any further incident.
Thankfully it’s lunchtime, so when you slip out of the office mostly unnoticed, the shirt resting rather comfortably over your frame, you make a beeline for the cafeteria. You get stares, odd murmurs thrown about you as you walk down the line, people from packed tables squinting oddly at your shirt. You can’t really blame them, either, because you’d squint at it too if you’d seen it on someone else. You’re already silently resigning yourself to being The New Kid when you sit down on the ground, the tables either full or sending you funny glances when you try to sit down with them.
The first thing you do is pull out a walkman and headphones. They slip comfortably over your ears, shielding you from the disheartening whispers thrown around about you. You’re absolutely certain that this is going to damage your reputation, on Day One no less, but what are you supposed to do? Your only option is this stupid shirt: damned if you do, and damned if you don’t.
You bury yourself in your lunch, though it’s not appealing. Coleslaw oozes messily around your plate, and you try pushing your fries out of the way, but it’s too late. They’re soaked, and you’ve lost your appetite. You push the tray away from you, and it sits there sadly on the ground. You dig a book out from your backpack, letting your eyes skim over the words instead of the people around you.
--
“Eddie,” Dustin is out of breath when he sits down, too excited to inform his friend of the strange thing he’d managed to witness in the lunch line to think about breathing, “Eddie, the new kid’s wearing a Hellfire shirt!”
Eddie’s brows furrow, and he munches thoughtfully on a pretzel, “You’re out of your mind, Henderson.”
“No! No,” He shakes his head, “Honest! Look,” He points to you, the text over the devil on your shirt clear as day over your book, “I saw ‘em on my way back from class! They just walked in with it.” He lets out a breathy laugh, “Do you think it’s catching on? Like, you think there’s more than just us? Do you think there’s members all around the world?!”
“Dumbass,” Jeff swats at the back of Dustin’s head, “How could it be catching on, no one knows about it but us.”
“Maybe they-“ Dustin is eager to elaborate on his theory, prepared to make up some hair-brained theory as to how the transfer student could have heard about Hellfire outside of Hawkins, but Eddie’s eyes narrow as he stares at you, and he waves a hand at Dustin, effectively silencing the boy.
“There’s a stain there. On the left.” He recognizes the messy splotch, his face twisting in indignance, “That’s my shirt!”
“I thought you lost that one,” Mike frowns, his hair hanging over his face, “How’d she get it?”
“I dunno,” Eddie stands abruptly, tossing his bag of trail mix to the table and tugging his jacket determinedly around his shoulders, “But I’m gonna find out.”
--
In only ten minutes, you’re already getting used to the stares. They dishearten you every time, something inside of you sinking whenever someone points or peers at you. But apparently you’re just going to have to accept your spot in the school, your back forever pressed against the cafeteria wall as your tray rests on the floor. It’s only for one year, you reason, you can tough it out. 
Loneliness seeps through the cold linoleum flooring, slightly sticky from god knows what, and raises goosebumps over your legs. You’re absolutely certain it would be more comfortable to sit out in the woods behind the school, and you’re only two seconds away from moving when a pair of shoes enters your vision, right in front of your crossed legs. 
"Pray tell," The boy who crouches in front of you has dark eyes, his white sneakers creasing as he bounces on his thighs, "What are you doing in my shirt?"
You tug your headphones off of your ears as you stare up at him blankly, your eyes drifting over the pins adorning his jacket. You recognize a few bands, a curse word or two, but then he dips his head to meet your eyes, his question still in the air.
"Oh, I-" You flounder, tugging at the hem of the shirt nervously, "I'm really sorry. Is this yours? I didn't know."
"It's mine," He reaches up to flick the stain on the front, "That was from an unfortunate driving-while-eating incident."
You giggle at the thought, and his eyes snap back to yours, his grin ever-growing as you speak, "It was in the lost and found. They dress coded me," You recall exasperatedly, "It was the only thing I could find."
"Dress coded?" He cocks his head to the side, "Shit, what are you wearing underneath?"
The question has your eyes widening, your cheeks flaming, and your throat going dry. It’s not blatantly sexual, hell, you’re just wearing a low-cut top, but the boy in front of you is stunning, and the grin that he’s wearing is definitely suggestive.
“Um-” You start, raising the hem of his shirt slightly to reveal the pattern of your top, “It’s just-”
“I’m teasing,” He clarifies, pushing against your shoulder with one hand in a teasing gesture, “Don’t worry about it.” He plops down onto the floor in front of you, squinting distastefully at your soggy fries, “Normally I’d try to steal a few, but those look like they’d land me in the hospital.”
“I think I’ll have to start bringing lunch from home,” You sigh resignedly, “Unless the food here gets any better than this?”
“Not that I know of,” He shakes his head, brown frizzy curls bouncing around his face airily as he does so, “I bring my own food too.”
You hum in acknowledgement, only then realizing you don’t know his name. 
“I’m Y/N, by the way,” You pipe up, holding out your hand for a shake. He stops perusing your discarded lunch and grins amusedly at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling at the expression. 
“Eddie.” He offers, shaking your hand once, firmly, “You’re new, right?”
“Yeah,” You nod, glancing around at the few scattered pairs of eyes on you now that Eddie is sitting with you, “It’s a little harder than I thought it’d be.”
“That shirt probably isn't helping.” Eddie grimaces sympathetically, “We’re not exactly the kings of the school.
“We?” Your brows furrow in confusion.
“The Hellfire Club…?” He raises his eyebrows, tugging apart the chest of his jacket to reveal an identical shirt to yours, though sans-stain, “We sit over there.”
Your lips part slightly at the shock of seeing another shirt like the one you’re wearing, and you glance dazedly over to where he’s pointing. Five sets of eyes try appearing casual at your attention, two turning to each other and whispering as the other three bury themselves in a magazine one is holding.
“I didn’t realize it was a thing,” You admit, the corners of your lips curving up softly, “I figured it was, like, a band or something.”
“Well I’m in a band!” Eddie supplies eagerly, his face brightening. But he dims down after to appear more nonchalant, clearing his throat and schooling his face into a more neutral expression, “We’re a DnD party, though, Hellfire.”
“Oh, I’ve never played.” You admit sheepishly, “But it seems really cool!”
“Cool…?” Eddie quirks a brow at you, and the way that he’s staring at you has you questioning whether you’ve grown a third head, “DnD, like, Dungeons and Dragons.”
“Yeah,” You nod vehemently, “A lot of my friends back home played, but I never really got into it. It seemed really complicated.”
“It kind of is,” A smile grows over Eddie’s face, albeit a perplexed one, “But once you get the hang of it it’s fun. I.. I won’t lie, ‘cool’ is just about the last word I expected you to call our hobby.”
“I’ve sat in on a few sessions,” You recall, remembering the raucous shouts and heated battles that your friends got up to, “I usually just read fantasy novels, it was different watching one play out in real time.”
“Ooh, fantasy novels?” His face scrunches in good-natured disbelief, “You surprise me more and more every time you speak. Y’got any recommendations? I’m always looking for new inspiration for our campaigns.”
You suddenly remember the book in your lap, your pointer finger still lodged between the pages. You hastily hold it out to him, showcasing the cover, “This one’s good. The author’s from my old town,” You smile at the memory of her book signing, “It’s about a warrior prince who has to fight his way through hell, and he befriends a demon. She ends up helping him through,” You offer the book to Eddie with raised brows, “Anything you’d wanna borrow?”
“I don’t wanna steal it from you just yet,” He pokes carefully at your finger between the pages, “But let me know when you finish it, and I’ll be all over that.”
His tone is fascinating to you, an air of constant amusement around him that you’d never seen before. He seems to find interest in everything, and it feels amazing to be listened to by someone who cares so deeply about someone he’s never met before. You nod cheerily at him, some of the weight lifting from your chest at the knowledge that you’ve made a friend.
--
“Dude,” Dustin peers cautiously at you, his heart still racing from when you’d caught them staring only seconds before, “I think he’s smiling!”
“I can’t see,” Jeff huffs, a frown twisting over his face as he tries eyeing you two over Mike’s head, “You’re in the way, Wheeler.”
“Sor-ry,” Mike grumbles, ducking down, “She already caught us staring once, don’t push your luck.”
“Why is he still down there?” Dustin turns to his friends with an exaggerated furrow in his brows, “Do you think he’s coming back?”
“He’d better,” Gareth mumbles, flicking the tin lunchbox Eddie had left behind, “I’m not getting in trouble if a teacher finds this.”
“Oh, oh my god!” Dustin glances back over his shoulder one last time, seeing Eddie helping you to your feet, “They’re both coming over here!”
--
“So,” Eddie hums, lifting the edge of your lunch tray and letting it fall to the floor again with a smack, “There’s only, like, ten minutes of lunch left, but if I sit on this shitty floor for any longer,” He raps a knuckle against the linoleum, “I’m gonna be walking funny. Do you wanna come sit with me and my friends?”
This is it. This is your chance, your invitation into friendship. You try to appear casual, try pretending like your heart isn’t beating out of your chest at Eddie’s proposal, and you nod a little too eagerly. 
“I’d love to,” You gush softly, “Thank you, Eddie.”
“Of course,” He laughs, the sound breathless and incredulous, “Just know, uh, this is kind of your last chance at having a reputation around here. It’s okay if you say no, I don’t wanna ruin your senior year of high school.”
“Why would you ruin it?” You tilt your head to the side and Eddie thinks you look rather akin to a confused puppy. It makes something stir in his chest, fondness creeping into his tone as he responds.
“Don’t you remember what I said earlier? We’re not very popular,” Eddie sighs lightly, trying to cover up the hint of insecurity that presents itself in his eyes, “We’re sort of the outcasts. I don’t want you to sign your popularity away before it can even get started.”
“I don’t want to be popular.” You decide right then and there, determination in the frown on your face, “Not if they make fun of you.”
You’re expecting a witty quip, already accustomed to the boy’s confident exterior. What surprises you, though, is the way that his mouth shuts, no words coming out of it as he gnaws thoughtfully on his lower lip. He studies you, his eyes boring into your own as his face hardens. You’re certain you’ve said something wrong, you’re worried that now you’ve messed things up, but then he smiles again, much softer this time. The expression is gentle, and shows off his shiny brown doe eyes, “You’re really something, aren’t you?”
“Hm?” You stare at him, equally entranced by his shift in character.
“You..” He starts, shaking his head bewilderedly, “A lot of the people here are raging assholes. Like, raging. But you’re.. You don’t seem like one.”
“I hope I’m not.” You huff out a laugh, “I don’t want to be a raging asshole.”
“Just another thing we have in common.” Eddie stands, breaking the stupor that had befallen you both and holding out his hand to help you off of the ground, “Now, we technically don’t have room at the table for you. But you can take my seat, I’ll stand for a bit.”
“No, no it’s okay!” You pull out of his grasp, eyes wide in fear of being a burden, “I can stand if I need to! I can take one for the team,” You assure him, bending over to pick up your tray and missing the way his eyes dart to your backside, “You just sat on the ground for me.
“Exactly,” He plucks the tray from your hands, dumping the cold, soggy food into a garbage can and leaving it with other used ones, “It’ll give me an opportunity to stretch my legs.” He swings one of his legs out to accentuate his point, the frayed strings of his jeans billowing in the rush of air against them.
“Only if you’re sure,” You let him lead you over to the table he’d pointed at earlier, his friends all watching you cautiously, “I really don’t want to put you out.”
“Nonsense.” He insists in that dramatic fashion of his, something you’re growing ever-fond of. His hands flit to your shoulders before you can even offer a polite wave to anyone sitting at the table, and he maneuvers you to plop down into his empty seat, “What’s mine is yours, Y/N.”
You’re sure he doesn’t mean it to be such an all-encompassing statement, but it makes your cheeks flare anyway. You direct your attention to his friends to stave off your bashfulness, not wanting him to see the way he gets to you after only knowing him for fifteen minutes.
One is smiling brightly at you, curls framing the boy’s face. Another two are sending cautious grins your way, seated opposite each other at the table. Then two others, decidedly older than the bunch, stare at you expressionless. The only thing they seem to have in common are their shirts, one of which you’re still wearing.
“Hello,” You offer lamely, waving sheepishly at them, “Uh, I’m Y/N, I’m new here.”
“And she likes DnD,” Eddie nearly cuts you off in his haste, “‘Thinks it’s ‘cool’.”
His statement draws a chuckle from his friends, and one of the younger-looking ones turns to you.
“I’m Dustin! I saw you earlier,” The curly-haired boy informs you, thankfully cheery in his greetings, “I couldn’t figure out why you were wearing a Hellfire shirt, so I told Eddie.”
“Oh,” You laugh awkwardly, glancing down at the stained shirt over your body, “I got dress-coded.”
“On your first day?” One of the older ones raises an eyebrow, “Tough luck. I’m, uh- Jeff, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” You nod thankfully at him, “Yeah,” You feel Eddie’s hands tighten around your shoulders and you tense slightly, “Teachers here are strict.”
“Tell me about it,” Eddie groans from above you, reaching over your shoulder to fasten his lunchbox shut and to grab a pretzel that he’d left behind, “I got caught smoking once and now I’m on some sort of watchlist.”
One of his friends, an older one on your left, snickers heartily at the story. Eddie apparently doesn’t appreciate it, though, because you watch him pelt the boy with a walnut in a matter of seconds.
You laugh incredulously as the boy flinches, and you’re almost worried that he’ll take offense to it. But you can’t tell, because Eddie leans over you, his hair tickling your face as he stares down at you amusedly. You glance up, return a guilty smile, Eddie motions to his bag of snack mix.
“Help yourself,” He offers, picking an almond out of the bag, “I did sort of throw away your lunch, I think it’s only fair you get some of mine.”
“I wasn’t gonna eat that anyways,” Your nose wrinkles at the mention of your soggy fries, “Don’t worry about it, Eddie.”
“Just take some,” He groans, jabbing a pretzel at your lips. It’s sloppy, because he can’t see what he’s doing, and he hits your chin. You giggle incredulously, squeak out a laugh, and take it from him. He pats your head as praise, “You’re too nice, you always decline shit from people.”
“How would you know?” You speak indignantly around your pretzel, “You barely know me!”
“And you’ve already tried weaseling your way out of favors twice,” He raises an eyebrow at you unimpressed, “Take some trail mix.”
You glance around at the others, traces of mirth on their faces. You realize that he must do this often, make a scene. You widen your eyes, plucking another pretzel from the bag, “Is he always this insistent with his snacks?”
“He never shares,” Dustin contradicts you, “‘Swear to god, I asked him for one M&M the other day: absolutely nothing.”
“You little shit,” Eddie’s hands leave your shoulders as he lunges for Dustin, locking the boy into place with an arm around the neck. You know it’s gentle, it’s not really hurting Dustin judging by the laughter spilling from the boy, and a soft smile creeps over your face. Eddie is clearly the heart of the group.
“Well hey,” One of the younger boys turns to you, his hair hanging around his face like a curtain, “If you’re keeping that shirt, you might as well use it. We actually need a sub for tomorrow night, if you want to play.”
“Oh,” You flounder at the request, everyone’s eyes flitting towards you, “Your DnD campaign? I don’t really know how to play.” You admit hesitantly, “I usually just watch.”
“That’s okay,” Eddie soothes you, letting go of Dustin to hover behind your chair again, patting your back, “We can take it slow. We don’t really need to get that much done tomorrow,” He promises, “I’ll help you out.”
“Are you sure? If it’s too much trouble, I can-” You stop dead in your tracks when Eddie raises a brow, nearly glaring at your attempt to brush off another kind gesture.
“... I mean, I’d love to.” You grin placatingly at him, a rush of warmth flooding through your chest at his approving nod.
“Perfect,” His words are punctuated by the ringing of the bell, signaling the end of lunch time, “What class do you have next?”
You dig your schedule out of your backpack as everyone stands, the paper already crumpled slightly, “Uh, O’Donnel?”
“Oh!” Eddie nods understandingly, “I’ve got her first. I’ll walk you, it’s over there.” He points lazily towards the left cafeteria door.
“Thank you,” You smile brightly at him and he returns it with a nod, taking your backpack from you before you could sling it over your shoulder. You look at him fondly, struck with incredulity at the kindness of a near-stranger, but he doesn’t let you prase him anymore, starting for the door. 
“Bye,” You wave hurriedly at the few stragglers at your new table, all of them waving back just as kindly, “It was nice meeting you!”
“Nice meeting you, too.” One of them pipes up, a buffalo-print vest draped over his shoulders as his messy brown hair dips slightly into his forehead. 
“See you tomorrow?” Dustin asks hopefully, gesturing towards your shirt.
“Yeah,” You nod brightly, “See you tomorrow!”
Eddie tugs you along as soon as you’re done talking, taking long steps across the floor you’d been unlucky enough to sit on for the majority of lunch. Even if it had only been for a few minutes, though, you’re happy to have sat with Eddie and his friends, because they made you feel welcome. 
You voice this to him before you step through the doors of Ms/ O’Donnel’s class, lingering by the threshold, “Eddie?”
“Yeah?” He hums curiously, waiting to send you off to your next period.
“Thank you,” You sound like a broken record but you don’t care, filled with thankfulness for his kind gestures, “Really, I know I’ve said it a lot but I really mean it. If it weren’t for you I’d have sat on that stupid floor all period,” You remember the cold, unforgiving linoleum, “And- and now I get to learn how to play DnD!”
Your exuberance melts Eddie’s heart, not that he wants to admit it, and he feels his grin become permanent over his face. Anytime he looks at you, he’s certain it’ll be there.
“Don’t mention it,” He shuffles his feet, suddenly bashful under your shower of gratitude, “Seriously, I’m glad you’re not on the floor anymore.”
“Me too.” You giggle, taking a step back into the classroom as he starts walking towards his own class, “Oh, and Eddie?”
“Yeah?” He turns back to you with a raised brow.
“The shirt?” You tug it away from your chest and let it fall back again, “When should I give it back?”
“Tell you what,” A smirk crosses his face, sending a spark up your spine as he steps towards you again, “You come by my place tonight, and I’ll teach you the basics of DnD. You can bring that book, and maybe I’ll knock out a few chapters while you’re learning. Then maybe you can show me what’s under there,” Eddie quips, tugging at the shirt’s hem with narrowed eyes, “I’m dying to know what the faculty deemed inappropriate.”
His bold offer has your stomach twisting, and you feel your heart in your throat. Your prolonged silence seems to humble him, and uncertainty flashes through his eyes, “Unless of course, um, I was too forward, and you’re not interested, in which case I’ve probably totally misread this and ruined whatever was going on, and I’m so-”
“Eddie!” His rambling is ridiculously endearing to you, and you grip his hand before he can flee the scene, “I.. I’d like that.”
His shoulders slump in relief and you watch the tension drain from his figure, “Really? Shit, you had me scared there. What’s your address, sweetheart?”
Even though it’s sweeter and less bold than his statement only seconds before, the pet name has your legs weakening. You’re sure Eddie will catch you if you fall, though, he hasn’t known you for an hour and he’s already your savior.
“Here,” You grab a scrap of paper from the side pocket of your backpack, pulling a pencil out alongside it and scribbling your address down, “What time do you wanna meet?”
“I’ll pick you up at six,” Eddie promises, tucking the paper into the pocket of his jacket, “Does pizza sound good?”
“Pizza sounds perfect.” You grin, finally stepping into the classroom and absentmindedly searching for an empty seat, “See you then!”
Eddie stands in the hallway, watching wistfully as you pick out an empty seat in the back. Your book is on the desk in seconds, your nose buried intently in it as the class gets seated. The endearing behavior only warms the pit of Eddie’s stomach more, and he turns before he can ruin the situation by being caught staring. He tucks his head down, stalking bouncily off to his next class with a smile on his face, “See you then, Y/N.”
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tags: @superflannel @the-jackals @lem0nb0iii @folkwhorexx @poltergeistsblog @annoylinglyaries @themidnaoftime @1800-fight-me @feminist-mina-harker @lost-my-sanity @silverrings-n-prettythings @imsouyya @solace-in-death @ellehcimmunson @hells--angel @yourfavoritefangirl @pepperquin @vonelle @justmyheart @fuschite @burnyourtrains @doctorwhatwhenandwhere @duuhrayliegh @clubfairy @tssf-imagines @eddieswifu @ajokeformur-ray @villain-friend @svr2003 @pameladawson @harrys-tittie @madslchambers @aedicn @crankgameplayssimp @justletmelivethanks @reidsog @eddielives1986
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
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ceriseheaven · 10 months
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eddie would say "this guy's bothering you babe?" every time you accidentally bump into something.
you're just walking around the trailer, taking back your plate to the kitchen when you hit your leg against the table, "ow you son of a bitch!" you'd yell out and eddie comes running from his room. his guitar tossed on the bed and music sheet has flown off his lap and got scattered all across the floor.
"what happened? you okay?" he'd ask then he'd see that the table has moved a bit since he last saw it about thirty minutes ago. "this guy's bothering you, sweetheart?" he'd walk towards the table and stare it down, "do i need to teach you a lesson here? hm? teach you not to hit on girls? and my girl nonetheless." his hands in fists, he'd buff out his chest, acting all tough and scary but it only makes him look adorable like a mad puppy.
"actually eds, technically i hit it." you'd tell him and he'd turn to you.
"babe you don't have to do this. don't defend this asshole just so i wouldn't hurt him." glaring at the table again, "come on bitch! not so brave now huh?"
then he'd act as if he's throwing hands with the table only for him to hit his foot against its leg, hard, and end up on the floor in the fatal position holding his foot in both hands and go "the soldier has fallen. i've been defeated by the evil forces of wooden home furniture. pass my kind regards and sorrow to the queen. long live rock and roll." then in true eddie fashion, he'd pretend to be dead with his tongue out and his middle finger pointed to his new immortal enemy, the table.
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kinokomoonshine · 10 months
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Eddie Munson is 100% the type of guy to respond to, "I don't know what wear" with a "I'd prefer nothing." EVERY DAMN TIME
The first time he says it, you would just stare at him a bit shocked because it was so out of hand, but later into your relationship, you would simply just give him a side eye or a dead pan glare and he would start giggling- even tho it lost the fun after the 5th time he said it and at the point it started to be an almost daily thing.
<3
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More of Stranger Things
Masterlist
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madelynraemunson · 3 months
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lolahasmoxie · 7 months
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Headcannon (E.M.)
Is Eddie an ass or a boob man?
I offer you a third option.
WARNING: Smut, MDNI 18+
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Eddie loves pussy.
He'll have you spread out on your bed, his hair soft as he lays his head on your upper thigh.
He starts off by rubbing a finger over your clit. Feather light, but with enough pressure to slowly stoke the fire in your belly. It takes a shockingly short time to have you where he wants you, breathing heavily and whimpering his name. But right before you crest the hill, he stops.
Then he takes a long finger, takes your juices, and rubs it softly up and down your slit before slipping it inside your warm cunt. He takes his time searching for the spongy texture that tells him he's found your G-spot.
You begin to crest again like before, and just like before, he stops before you can climax. He hums to himself as he takes a finger and begins to circle your clit again.
He does this again and again, over and over, back and forth, until you feel your skin vibrate with need. You beg him for release, to do something, and even though he wasn't trying to get you to beg, he also can't deny how much he loves it.
He doesn't say a word, simply slips two fingers inside your pussy while he attaches his lips to your clit. He suckles you, and within seconds he has you singing.
Your orgasm feels like it lasts for hours, pleasure radiating from your lower abdomen out in waves to the rest of your body. He doesn't stop once, his fingers slowing while he drinks down all you have to offer him.
When you finally return to yourself, your body can't help but melt into the mattress. Your body shakes when you feel his lips deliver one final kiss to your clit. Then he rests his head on your upper thigh, and when he finally looks you in the eye, he has a smile that stretches from ear to ear.
He doesn't say a word because he knows he doesn't need a single one after what he just did to you.
(on a side note, I need a drink and to get laid, and not necessarily in that order.
Also, I’m high right now and edibles make me frisky. That’s where this whole piece was born from.)
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