#eddie munson is artsy

[bardicfrustration]

Screening Process

"We need shirts." The DnD club had finally come to an agreement during lunch, and as leader, Eddie had to agree. The yearbook had started taking club photos and he knew from yearbooks past that to finally be taken seriously as a club, they would need shirts. 

"We need shirts." He echoed, nodding his head. "How do we get shirts then?" 

They’d tried the copier store before, but the prices were a bit too high. Seemingly because the owner was not well inclined to printing ‘satanic propaganda.’ Eddie had tried to be nice and explain that it was basically a book club for nerds who liked math and maps, but that only hiked the price five dollars extra. 

Normally, they could’ve pooled together enough money to scrape by against the bitter bigotry, but Eddie knew the entire club was going through a monetary dry spell. Himself included. 

In a moment of revelation, his black sheep prodigy piped up from the end of the table, "The AV Club."

Eddie cocked his head in confusion, and Jeff asked, “The AV club makes shirts?”

"No," Dustin's smug grin lit up his face, "But because no one really thought it would survive, the school wouldn't hand over the money to get shirts made. So our AV teacher had someone else make them." 

"Homemade? Henderson, we want to look good, not like we’re modeling mommy's craft of the week."

"No! These are good quality!" He pointed to the infamous ‘thinking cap’ adorning his head, “Where do you think I got this?” 

“Geeks ‘R Us.” Gareth replied without a second thought. 

But Dustin continued, “Seriously  guys, they look legit. The other clubs started asking where we gottem because they looked waaaay better than the iron on crap from the copiers. It’s top secret though; nerds, rejects, and losers only.” 

Eddie squinted, “So, where do we find this elusive vendor?” 

Dustin promised to lead Eddie there, as long as he promises not to snitch. Eddie scoffs, “You think I would snitch? Really, dude, and I thought you respected me.” 

After lunch

Dustin only shared away from the cafeteria (‘away from prying ears!’) and after Eddie promised not to snitch (‘you think I, of all fucking people, would snitch?’). 

Once lunch was over, and most of the afternoon classes had settled into routine, Eddie entered the dark, empty art class gingerly, trying to be discreet. This is why he liked his picnic table, no one there but trees. 

It was quiet save for the soft hum of a radio playing somewhere nearby and the gentle scratching of pen on paper. With a second take, he looked around the dim room still to find no one. The only light he could see was streaming under a closet door. So, he knocked. 

The scratching stops and the door cracked open a sliver, just enough for a face to pop through and ask, “Waddya want Dustin-oh.” 

Your hair was pulled away from your face, but it still had managed to fall awry from the motion of art making. Eddie couldn’t see much in this surprisingly well used closet, but he could see the angled desk behind you covered in ink and paper and tape and other wayward materials. 

“Uh, Dustin sent me. Sorry.” He holds up a plastic bag of baseball tees he was able to afford. “We require your assistance.” 

Your face dropped from curious to bereaved. “I told that little snotrag I’m not making him any more personalized crap unless he pays me. I’m not gonna do it just because he sent a pretty face with them.”

Eddie looked behind him, expecting a pretty face to have appeared out of nowhere, which allowed you to slam the closet door when he turned back. 

“WAIT!” He hears you turn up the radio through the door, “It’s not just for Henderson! And I’ll pay you back in time, promise.” 

He’s hanging in anticipation for a response. The pen doesn’t start scratching, but the door doesn’t open. He could practically hear the wheels turning in your head from beyond the barrier between you. 

The door opened wide like a tiger's maw and you snatched the bag of shirts out of his hand before he could even react. 

“Promise?” You held out a hand covered in ink. Eddie shook it without a second thought.

“Promise.” 

“Fine, enter the studio.” You pushed your chair back into the corner so Eddie could have room to step in. 

It wasn’t much of a studio in terms of size, but the walls were covered in shelves of supplies; paints, glues, inks, papers, brushes, knives, anything an artist would crave while wandering the aisles of an art supply store. His own fingers itches to reach out and test things out, but he was there on a mission, for the club. 

He dug through his pockets for a carefully folded piece of notebook paper. He unfolded it and started to explain his design in mind. “We were thinking something devilish, to match with the Hellfire theme, and maybe a cool flaming sword, oh and some dice, like a d4 and a d20. Uh. I can bring those for reference if you need.” 

You waved the thought away. “I know what nerd dice look like, dude.” You took the paper from him, not unkind or rough, but to take a closer look, “Did you draw this?” 

He scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah, I mean. It’s just a doodle. Ideas, brainstorming, whatever.” 

“Hm.” You looked him over, more thoughtful than before, “I can get it done by the end of the week. I take cash and cookies.” 

“Cookies?”

“An artist requires sustenance.” You pointed to the tin of sugar cookies on a short table in the corner. “And my preferred method is sugar. Are you good for that?” 

Eddie nodded, “Aye aye cap’n.” 

You smirked at him, but turned back to your work table, “I need to start now if I’m going to get this done soon. Come back with cookies.” And you shut the closet door in his face once more. 

He stood there for a moment, grinning to himself, before heading off to find someone who was willing to bake. 

[bruttacera]

These two again! I don't know why they would run away and hide in Reefer Rick's boathouse since in this AU Chrissy survives, but it doesn't matter. By now I had this scene in my head and there was no way to get rid of it uuhh

[hitorimaron]

Inspired by Whole Lotta Love by @stereobone

[deafeningmoontragedy]

"She wore overalls"- Colour Pop

Series Masterlist

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Plus size reader

Chapter One

CW: Broken home, prejudice against repeating school

AN: This is going to be your favourite multiple part, slowly falling in love fanfic about Eddie Munson! Nah not really, but hopefully you'll enjoy it. If you want to hear anything in this story or you would like me to write anything to fulfill your Eddie Munson dreams, feel free to request anything!

“Oh my god, he is just so, like I dunno, he's just so happy and eccentric and oh my lord he's so hot” Lara went on and on about her new boyfriend who she had met at a bar a month ago. “Yeah but wasn't he in highschool?” you asked, taking a sip of wine on the green couch. “Yes.. he is, but he's our age, he just had to repeat senior year..” she said a little bit embarrassed, looking down at her glass. “What twice?” you asked sarcastically “Yeah…” she answered pathetically. 

You gave her a frown “Well he just had some issues..” she said. “What.. kind of issues?” you asked suspiciously “Well in his first senior year he, well he got expelled and had to repeat the year at another school and then he moved and his credits didn't transfer so he had to repeat again” she told you cautiously. You had no other response but to frown at this “But seriously, i can't wait for you to meet him! You're gonna love him! You even like similar music!”

You moved out of the house at 18 to get away from what could only simply be called as a shitshow of a family. Drunken dad and a mother with anger issues, the only regret was leaving Finney, your little brother, still at 13, too young to move out and unfortunately still under the guardianship of your so-called parents. Finney slept over though, when things got bad at home, your apartment was an escape and your bed a safe haven while you either slept on the couch or with him to make him feel safe. 

Every Tuesday at four was a weekly ritual for him to come over to a freshly cooked meal in what he called a jungle of an apartment. Dark blue walls with art on almost every one of them, green kitchen cabinets, anything and everything made of wood and plants that covered almost every empty surface you could find. 

It was small, but cute and comfortable, with the small balcony that was actually a firescape and fairy lights almost the only source of light a person could find in your home.

It was home, a first for a while and even better because of rent control it was a freaking steal, especially with Lara there to split the rent with.

Stood in a corner of the living room you worked on your colourful painting peacefully,  pop art, acrylic on canvas of Freddie mercury, the queen after all. Bopping along to his music as you stood in your forest green bra (What a surprise that it was green) with loose overalls draped over your curves, only one strap attached to the front and paint stains littered all over the dark blue fabric. 

A key clicked in the door as Lara walked in, a tall, long haired man following behind her. They talked with each other as they kicked their shoes off. You turned the music down and turned towards them “Hey y/n thai is Eddie” she gave you a big grin as she gestured towards him. You frowned slightly at her as he made his way forward and shook your hand “y/n” you told him. “I wish you would have told me we would be having company” you told her, giving her the side eye and quickly fastening the other strap to your overalls, Eddie chuckled at your reaction. “Oh come on you look great” he complimented scanning the chubby girl in front of him. Short, messy hair thrown up in a bun, makeup smudged from the night before, paint in your face, on your arms and almost all over your body. 

“Not too bad yourself” you said looking back at him. He wore black ripped jeans, a chain, a baseball shirt, black socks with holes in them and had brown, ratted hair. All considered he was actually quite handsome. He chuckled and looked towards his girlfriend. She smiled happily and said “I'm just gonna give Eddie a house tour and then we'll fix dinner then” you nodded at the plan and made your way into your room. 

Thinking it wasn't so polite to sit and eat in only a bra and overalls you pulled the first comfortable t-shirt you could find, and since you were at it you may as well change into a pair of jeans. Once Lara was finished showing the bathroom and you heard Eddie exclaim how there were plants in there too, you walked over to the sink to wash your face off of makeup and paint. 

“So dinner” Lara said as she landed in the open kitchen and opened the fridge dramatically. “Ooooor not” she grinned at Eddie who was stood next to her and yourself who had just walked back out into the apartment. The fridge was practically empty and there was nothing salvageable to make a meal with. “Takeout?” Eddie asked, smiling, both of you nodded. 

“Hey cool, you like Yes too?” Eddie pointed towards your shirt “oh yeah” you looked down to see what you were even wearing, he was trying to converse with you as you ate your indian food but your mind some whole place else. 

“Yeah i actually went to see them i think three years ago” you tried politely to make him interested “No shit, that's so cool, yeah they're like kind of a vibe to listen to when you-” he broke himself off with a cough “Haha yeah, I love to listen to them when I'm high, see its my stoner shirt” you laughed picking at the fabric “yeah” he agreed with a nervous laughter. 

Lara cleared her throat “So Eddie, most of the art y/n actually made” she gestured towards the walls “woah really?” he studied the walls “you're really talented” he stated, guffawing at the paintings “Yeah thanks, well I study art, gotta have somewhere to put all the junk” you joked. “Junk? Nah man this is awesome” you chuckled at his amazement. “Holy shit is that Freddie mercury?” he asked rhetorically “wow you really captured him considering its so” he searched for the word “Colourful” you chuckled again. “You think so?” turning towards the corner of the open room where the painting stood “Yeah it's called pop art, Im kind of new to it”. A lot of the paintings around the apartment were very realistic, though in colour, anatomically correct moths, butterflies, portraits and anything to do with nature covered the walls.  Eddie ended up spending the night but was gone before you had even slipped into your clothes for the day, oh right, highschool starts earlier, it had barely been a year since you finished but still things slipped your mind. 

[aswho1estuff]

Support art

[stevesbipanic]

I like to think of Eddie as def an artsy type, he's for sure written some songs for Corroded Coffin and he probably designed his tattoos.

[angel0signal]

Artsy!y/n drawing Eddie tattoo ideas and him actually getting them done to them then

[pralex]

I did a fan art illustration of Eddie and Dustin from Stranger things season 4

[theundeadmetalheadapolagia]

Indulge me a moment:

Eddie’s favourite movie of all time is Suspiria, but if asked he’ll say it’s Return of the Living Dead

Meanwhile

Jonathan’s favourite movie of all time is Return of the Living Dead, but if asked he’ll say it’s Suspiria

[spi-dee]

Omw to join Hellfire club ⭐🐈‍⬛

[somnambulic-thing]

art student!reader x life drawing model!Eddie Munson

E 18+, so nsfw Words: 7048 read on ao3

find the sequel here

Paint It Black Summery: You’re frustrated with your latest work and look for distraction by attending the open life drawing class on what looks like a very ordinary Thursday. Eddie, the new model, is everything but ordinary but definitely a distraction.

CW/tags: characters somewhere in their twenties, meet-wild, smut, fluff, some sort of voyeurism/public erection, gets a little rough, unprotected sex, piv penetration, oral for everybody, v fingering, biting, love marks, talky sex, aftercare, art school bullshit, messy sex, artsy sex (I guess), love at first sight (I guess)

A/N: @edsforehead made me do it. (thank you so much)

comments and reblogs are so appreciated

The air is cold, stinging your cheeks as you ride your bike through a clear and crisp winter morning. It does wonders for waking you up and clearing your mind; you had spent way too long in your studio last night, hovering over this painting that just wouldn’t go the way you wanted. Inside your mind, you hoisted it off the wall to place it right in the middle of the room, a bucket of thick black paint in one hand, the other one dipping in until the medium reached your wrist. You drop down to your knees and get to work, blacking the wretched thing out one large swoop of your arm after another, sending hours of work into oblivion.

Oh my, it was so tempting. Your fingertips tickle with the urge to turn your frustration into something wild and rough and… simple.

But your Professor had sworn to make your life very hard if he ever got wind of you destroying one of your works again, so you followed the advice he had given you: You had decided to take a break. Do something different, something simple, something rewarding and easy to clear your mind to recharge your drained batteries.

So it is Thursday and you crawled out of bed after four measly hours of sleep to go to the life drawing class. You are early as always to get one of the good spots. The small auditorium is still empty except for your teacher who is busy untangling the cords of the various space heaters that will keep the model warm for the next hours.

“Ah,” he says as he sees you, “haven’t seen you here in a while.”

“Yeah, been busy wasting paint.” You smile and walk down the steps of the middle aisle and drop your bag on the best chair: first platform, second chair on the right from the aisle. It had the perfect distance and angle and the top of the backrest of first row to put your feet on so you could rest your paper on your thighs and wouldn’t have to struggle through two hours and a half hours of numb feet.

“Good decision to waste some graphite instead today,” your teacher says and grins. “I’m excited to see your progress.”

You hum, unpacking your supplies. “Who’s the model today? Someone familiar?”

“No, actually, I finally could recruit someone new. He should already be here though. Maybe he has difficulties finding us.” The building was old and could be confusing if you never set foot in it before.

“He,” you say, sharpening your pencil. “Guess it’s my lucky day.”

Male models were rare - maybe two out of ten sessions - and you start to get excited about coming in today.

Your teacher climbs up the stairs past you, “I’ll go and see if he’s wandering around somewhere.”

 —

The room fills with students; you say your How are you?’s and What are you working on?’s and when the clock shows 9:37, you brace yourself for the session getting cancelled. Just then, the door opens and your teacher hurries down the stairs.

“Good morning everybody. Sorry for the delay, our model got lost in our hallways. Let’s hear: anybody working on something particular and has some requests for poses?”

You crane your neck up to the back of the room towards the overflowing coat rack while your teacher keeps going through the usual procedure.

The model’s back is turned and you see a long black coat being shrugged off of lean shoulders and underneath: more black. Black lines of ink meandering out of the sleeves of a black shirt; a harsh contrast against pale skin. Ringed hands come up to the back of his head to put the long dark wavy hair into a bun.

No! you plead internally, surprised by that strong reaction.

He chooses the far left aisle down, almost disappearing behind the rows of students but your eyes follow him with a burning curiosity as if you wouldn’t get the chance to look at him for hours in a moment. You shake your head and open your sketchbook to do just anything but stare. There was a difference between observing and staring and the latter wasn’t fucking appropriate inside this room.

“Everybody,” your teacher announces, “this is Eddie. Eddie has never done this before so be patient and just let him know if he’s moving too much.”

You look up and grind your teeth. This Eddie is fucking gorgeous.

“Uhm, hi!” he smiles into the room then looks back at your teacher. “So, uh, I just get naked or what?”

Everybody laughs, but you don’t. You’re taking a long slow breath.

“That’s the general idea,” your teacher grins. “You can put your things on that table in the corner and then just come back to this spot.”

But Eddie does not move to the mentioned corner, he simply pulls off his shirt and throws it the distance to the table. More tattoos come to light; all black, no color. He then kicks off his shoes and you watch his fingers as they open his belt and his fly, how they lodge into the hem of his black, frayed jeans and pull them down in one swoop. There are giggles as he throws the bundle, aiming at the table like he’s at the bowling alley, completely naked.

And then you realize, Eddie didn’t wear any underwear.

“The rings too, please.”

“Oh, sure.” He picks them off his fingers; one two three from one hand and one more from the other. Eddie looks at them on his palm for a moment and grins. “Nah, not gonna throw those.”

The class giggles again as Eddie takes two three long strides to the table to put his rings down carefully and prances back, taking his spot in the middle of the small platform surrounded by space heaters.

There is a soft crack coming from your lap and you look down to see that you had pushed your pencil to the paper so hard that you’d broken the tip.

—

It’s as always: a series of short poses to warm up. One minute, then three and up from there.

Except it is not like always. You're flustered, you’re hot and you spend way too long staring, not finishing any of the one-minute poses.

This has never happened to you before and you had been presented with a lot of good-looking people over the years but this guy was something else.

Three-minute poses and Eddie is slouched back in a chair, long legs spread, left arm resting on top of his head, the right one on his thigh. This was sinful. You just corrected the angle of his left thigh for the third time when you look up and find him looking right back at you. No lost glance into the distance over your shoulder, no: your eyes meet. And those eyes are big and dark and curious and he holds the gaze for several seconds before the timer beeps and announces the change of poses.

He’s not only beautiful and scorching hot but also incredibly adorable. He’s giddy between poses, shaking his arms and legs - and with that his cute little ass - bouncing on his toes and you start to think that holding still normally isn’t his forte. When he lies on his belly, soft gaze on the floor, he tries to stifle a yawn once, twice and only lets it out when he’s allowed to move again. You like his dedication.

Five-minute poses and you finally get into the flow; things start to make sense on the paper until you find him looking at you again. And not only that: he mouthes a small 'Hi'. You bite your lip and look down, feeling the looks of some of the students on you.

He’s cross-legged, leaning back, hands braced on the ground behind him. The angle is weird and it doesn’t help that the way his lean, inked chest moves every time he takes a breath makes you want to bite down on those sharp collarbones. You hold your sketchpad in your outstretched arms doing those quick back-and-forth glances to find out where to correct the mess when his eyes move back to you. Every time you meet his gaze makes your spine tingle more and more and you have to bite down on your lip again to not let a fucking noise slip from your mouth.

Ten-minute poses and your teacher has made it to you to give you some feedback. Nothing you hadn’t expected: you go about it too complicated, want to do too much in too little time, too much detail. Eddie is stretched out on his back and smirks towards the ceiling.

On the next round of feedback, he tells you to really look at Eddie’s hips. You get the angle wrong, it throws off the stance, and you know why all your stupid drawings look a little wonky: you try to avoid looking at his cock for too long. You never thought about a penis as a cock before in this class and it drives you up the walls seeing it twitch slightly while your teacher keeps explaining things you already know and you’re forced to stare at Eddie's crotch, knowing he's side-eying you and your flustered expression the whole. Damn. Time.

Eddie gets a brief pause to stretch and have some water and you want revenge. While his back is turned to you - shoulder blades rippling deliciously under his skin - you open the top two buttons of your blouse, sliding the collar off your shoulder.

One final five-minute pose before the session ends with a twenty-fiver and Eddie is crouched down with his knees pulled under his chin. He shuffles a little before he really settles, tilting his head slightly in a way that forces him to look in your direction unless he wants to lower his eyes to the floor for five minutes.

When he finally looks up, you’re waiting for him, head titled yourself exposing the side of your neck down to your shoulder where your bra strap is barely holding onto your skin.

Eddie’s eyes widen and you smile, tongue poking out just a little to lick your bottom lip before you focus on the paper in your lap to roughly map out the pose. You don’t linger on him while you draw, quick glances only, but you can feel his gaze heavy on you.

This sketch is turning out to be the best so far. You lean back a little, biting down on the back of your pencil and start rolling your shoulders. One gets stiff sitting like that for so long, so people stretch all the time and nobody will notice that you’re giving Eddie a little show. You tilt your head to the right and run a hand over the muscles in your neck, massaging the achy spot right beyond your skull for a moment. When you give in to look down at him, you do it from under your lashes, taking the pencil stuck in your mouth between two fingers and let your tongue play with it ever so slightly.

Eddie takes a deep breath; you can see it in the way his shoulders rise and his knees are pressed forward. You grin and he pulls up his brows and you can’t tell if he begs you to stop or go on.

Twenty-five-minute pose and the crowd demands him to stand.

“Twenty-five minutes of standing is ok?” your teacher asks Eddie, who hasn’t jumped up like a spring toy after the timer rang.

“Uhm, yeah,” he says, legs still drawn to his torso. “Sure thing, uh-hn.”

It takes him another beat to push himself up and come to a stand. Your eyes wander from the top of his cheeks, tinted in a pretty pink, down to those hips to find him not exactly half hard, but on a good way to it. You feel your eyes roll up.

Shit.

Your teacher instructs him how to stand, feet wider apart - a little more, perfect - arms crossed over his chest which too is now slightly pink. His biceps’ flex a few times as he waits for more instructions.

“Can you turn a little, to the left?” a guy in the top row asks and Eddie does.

“Like this?”

Like this you get him in a three-quarter-view and your heart is racing; will he look at you again or did you push it too far?

“Anything else?” your teacher asks and you want to bite down on your tongue but instead it’s moving and forming words.

“Can we have the hair down for this last one?”

Eddie’s head snaps up, catching you in the middle of your request. He pinches his eyes shut at the approval of your fellow students. Below the waist, he’s twitching again.

Loosening his hair tie, Eddie musses around in his dark waves with practised fingers until he seems satisfied with what he sees in the mirror across the room. You suppress a moan, breaking the tip of your pencil again. He’s not looking at you, this time choosing to turn down his eyes while his face points in your general direction again. You curse at yourself internally; you should have just gone to him after the session and slipped him your number or asked him if he was busy after this while the both of you were still flooded with whatever this was and—

Shit!

Whatever Eddie is thinking while not looking at you did not help with what was going on in his loins. That pretty cock was getting bigger: half-hard-hello! And judging by his current state, he was big. You involuntarily grind your hips on your chair and drop your pencil in the process. A groan escapes you, sounding much too pleasant for a case of dropped art supplies and you bend down to get it back. When you come up, brown eyes are waiting for you. There is a smile playing around them while his pretty pink lips are slightly pressed together. Thank god he doesn’t look mad or annoyed, only the blush giving away that something was going on.

You can’t help it, you’re biting your lip, eyes wandering between his face and his cock and his brows draw slightly together before he averts his eyes again, breathing a few times: deep and slow.

Deep and slow.

Holy shit you are throbbing and wet and all you can do is fake another stretch and while shuffling around, press your thighs together for a little bit of friction. You tilt your hips down slightly and the sensation is so good and welcome that your eyes pinch close and your back arches. The movement is jerkily and you stretch your arms over your head to conceal it, slowly opening your eyes again.

Eddie is watching. Eddie is hard.

You grab your pencil and start drawing the spectacle in front of you; concentration isn’t the right word for the sharp focus that settles over you. It’s fucking lust.

It’s not the first hard-on you’ve seen in this class, not by any means. It happens now and then and usually a slight blush from the model was the only reaction. But this wasn’t any hard dick: you did this. You did this to this gorgeous man and you wanted to capture this with your own hands. In case he just bolted right after the session, you would have something to remember this.

You’re leaning in, literally, sketch pad balancing on your knees and bent over your thighs you almost forget the additional loosened buttons on your blouse until you catch those eyes directed at your chest. Seems like Eddie figured the damage was done anyway so why hold back now?

And fucking hell was that precum glistening at the tip?

 This is when the timer starts announcing the end of class.

Eddie shoots you one final look, a sharp grin, a slight shake of the head, tips of his hair tickling his shoulders and hops off his little platform to get dressed.

“Holy shit,” says the guy next to you, leaning over. “Have you seen that dick?”

You huff a laugh that throbs in your pussy. “Hard to overlook.”

“Exactly,” he groans and picks up his things.

—

You look at drawings of Eddie of all kinds. They are all beautiful, even the bad ones. You rub your forehead catching that corny thought and look across the room where Eddie is talking to two people, gesturing to the drawings on the floor, laughing. The two of you are slowly moving towards each other. The journey consists of looking, talking: This is a good one! and That one is crap, right? and glancing to your right. You reach the row with your own stuff, groaning internally at how very off everything looks, everything but two.

Suddenly, a chest presses to your back and an arm sneaks past you to point at a drawing.

“That’s amazing.”

The explosion in your insides barely travels to your voice and you’re impressed with yourself. He even smells amazing. “Thank you.”

“Oh, that’s one of yours then?”

You turn to face him. The smile on his face is obscene.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Eddie.”

The smile shrinks a little and his nostrils flare with the air he pulls in. His voice is low and deep when he speaks. “You… uh, made that a very hard job to do.”

“I’m almost sorry,” you croon. His face is way too close; one uptilt of your head and you could bite his plush bottom lip.

“Don’t be,” he licks the spot you just imagined nibbling on. “I didn’t start it for nothing.”

You both jump when someone hijacks your moment. “Those detailed studies are really nice.”

“Yeah, right?” Eddie says with genuine enthusiasm. “Almost the only ones who got some of my tattoos…”

“Uhg, tattoos are hard in that short time, man and you know, not really anatomy.”

The exchange goes back and forth a little longer until Eddie loops his arm under yours and not so causally pulls you in the direction you’d come from under the disguise of looking at sketches.

“So, uh, what are you doing, like, right after this?”

“You, I hope.”

“Shit…” he shakes his head, hair falling into his face. “You’re killing me already… where do you want to go?”

You think about this for a moment, greedy and soaking through your panties you’re in no mood to wait much longer to have him naked again.

“I have a studio two corridors down…”

His brows shoot up. “You ahm…” he blurts out, then lowers his voice, “want to do me here at school?”

“Yes, Eddie… like the pretty little muse you are.”

—

His hand is warm in yours as you pull him along behind you through the hallway past your fellow students who throw curious glances over their shoulders.

Eddie catches up to your side and leans close to your ear, “Are you already wet for me? The way you moved on that chair…”

“Drenched,” you breathe against his neck and almost stumble over your own feet. Eddie sneaks his arm around you, keeping you steady.

“Easy, sweetheart. Let me be the one to bruise you, ok? I’ll do it in aaall the nice places.”

You stare at him, mouth hanging open.

“Promise,” he adds, tapping the tip of your nose, a devilish smile spreading on his face.

You drag him on and he laughs behind you until he catches up again. There is a brief moment where you leave him in the middle of the empty foyer to get your key from the doorman, interrupting his lunch break, praying to whoever deity will listen to your horny call that none of your studio mates is in there already. You almost moan when the guy hands the key to you and you bump into Eddie’s chest face first when you turn around in a hurry.

“Fuck you’re so pretty,” he rasps, takes your face in his large hands and bends down to press a hot kiss to your mouth. Your fists close around the lapel of his coat as he licks along your teeth until your tongue finds him. The world around you feels vague and unimportant until the doorman behind you knocks against the glass of his booth.

“I don’t need to see this, folks.”

This time Eddie takes your hand and walks on. “Show me the way, babe, or I’ll have to hoist you up one of those windowsills… you people are doing performance art here, right?”

Eddie is mumbling filthy things at you the whole way down the empty corridor where your shared studio is the last room on the left. You try to fumble the key into the lock and drop it because Eddie is already busy bruising your neck. Pressed flat to your back he brushed your hair to the side and started sucking at the spot just below your ear, his hands sneaking around you, cupping your tits through your blouse. As you bend down to pick up the key, Eddie grabs your hips and rolls his own against you, almost pushing you into the door. You both laugh and he pulls you up by your waist.

“Sorry,” he chuckles as you finally unlock the door. “I couldn’t help myself.”

You let him inside and lock the door behind you.

“What’s your workspace?” he asks, already poking his nose into things. “No! Don’t tell me… it’s… this one.”

“How did you know?” you ask surprised, taking off your coat and fully unbuttoning your blouse while he looks at your work lined up on the wall, hand on his chin like a proper little art critic.

“Well, I saw your drawings and this stuff here… it has the same… Duktus?”

“Christ,” you moan and he looks at you. “That was so sexy.”

“Hey, you’re starting without me?”

Eddie rushes to you, hands instantly sliding inside your open blouse against your bare skin. His hands are rough, calloused in some places and the slight scratch is making you shiver in his arms. He pulls the fabric off of you and drops it to the ground. His coat falls next, then his shirt. Eddie hisses as you sink your teeth into his collarbone as soon as you have access to them.

“Too much?”

His eyes are lidded and so very dark as he shakes his head. “Just start pulling my hair too and you’ll never get rid of me again…”

“That a threat or another promise?” you purr as you open his belt and fly over the impressive bulge in his pants.

“Which one turns you on more?” You hook your fingers into his waistband and drop to your knees, pulling his pants down with you, making his breath hitch. “Oh, s-shit…”

This is the close-up you've been yearning for all morning. Fully hard and flushed a deep pink already; you wonder if it will feel as heavy on your tongue as it looks. You run a finger along the underside and it twitches again, bobbing up and down in front of your face. You lean in, stick out your tongue and give the swollen tip a lick that makes Eddie whimper above you.

Again you meet his eyes and the expression in them is so unexpectedly soft that you almost whimper too. Your cunt is clenching around horrible nothingness as you lick him again, flat tongue sliding along the underside, feeling a vein, tasting salt, watching those big brown eyes roll up and close as a moan escapes him.

“You’re gorgeous, holy shit.” You firmly grip his cock around the base and stroke him a few times, your mouth watering, before you close your lips around the tip, your tongue swirling in lazy circles around it. Eddie’s breath is uneven and laced with soft moans from his glistening parted lips while you softly play around with his cock. Every twitch of his face is a delight, the way his abdomen tenses when you press small kisses to the length of his shaft makes you swoon with adoration. You reach up one hand to trace up the lines of a tattoo on his ribcage and he catches it, pressing it flat against his chest. Eddie’s heartbeat pounds against your palm and you moan around his cock.

“Holy… fuck… I wanna watch you so bad but I don’t know if I can take it.”

“You can take it, big boy,” you say in a low voice. “Look at me.”

It takes him a few more seconds until he opens his eyes and looks down at you; the moment you lock eyes you take him down as far as you can. A string of loud but mostly intangible curses echoes through the large room as you suck him down again and again in long leisurely motions. Your lips stretched around his girth curl up into a smile when his hands look for something to hold onto in your hair and you place your index finger at the corner of your mouth without stopping your onslaught to signal him to keep the volume down.

“Sorry, ah fuck fuck FUCK… I’ll try… shit I’m balls deep in your mouth and still don’t know your name—”

You don’t want to stop, not even for the moment to tell him your name. There’s a big portfolio folder leaning against the wall and you point in the general direction before running your fingers through the dark curls around his base and up the trail to his stomach while he’s trying to figure out what you’re showing him, failing at his attempt to stay quiet.

Then he says it: your name, no, he moans it. And he doesn’t fucking stop.

Suddenly your abdomen is on fire and you have to pull back to catch your breath. But you can’t, not really, because Eddie has kicked off his pants the rest of the way, dropped to the floor and pushed you to your back to peel you out of your clothes.

The floor is cold under your ass and back and you thump your head a little as he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer to him.

“Shit, you okay?”

“Yeah,” you giggle, “keep manhandling me.”

Eddie grins like the devil himself and goes to work. He’s everywhere: kissing, lapping biting at your mouth, your jaw your neck your tits, his fingers pushed into your thighs and you know it will bruise. He’s keeping his promise, leaving wet tingling marks all over you, a purple trail of small galaxies. His fingers find your cunt, finally, and Eddie eats the moan out of your mouth.

“Shh,” he says with a cocky laugh, his forehead pressed to yours, two fingers circling your clit in dragging motions. “You’re loud, beautiful. You don’t want us to get caught before I had a chance to fuck you.”

“N-no… ahhh.” Two thick fingers slide into you and your muscles grip down hard at the sudden intrusion.

“Hi,” he grins down at you as if he wasn’t just pounding your g-spot out of nowhere and making you see stars.

You hold on to his face, grappling for purchase and finally wind your fingers into this wild tickling hair and pull.

“Jesus, finally!”

“I— I’m so close.”

“Keep holding on,” he groans and moves down your body, fingers stilling for a moment.

You keep your hands in his hair, pulling in frustration from the ebbing pleasure.

“Of course, you have the prettiest fucking pussy, you—“ he doesn’t finish his thought, diving in with his tongue to lap at your clit like he’d been starving for you his whole life.

You bite the back of your hand to keep from yelling out at the sight alone. His eyes meet yours, of course they do and he sucks one of your lips into his mouth.

“You’re a fucking tease, Eddie… what’s your last name?”

“Munson,” he mumbles against your core and keeps on feasting.

“You’re a fucking tease, Eddie Munson… ahhh don’t stop please.”

And he doesn’t. He gives you his fingers and his mouth, his eyes fixed on you— well, most of the time, he keeps looking to a spot behind you but you have no time to inquire as your legs start to tremble and everything inside you starts to tense and pulse and you’re coming apart under his mouth before you’ve really seen it coming.

Yeah, that guy was something else.

When you’ve come down he gently pulls his fingers from you and litters your thighs and belly with kisses. His fingers are sticky against your skin but a slight roughness remains.

Your head lolls against the floor while you’re still blissed out and Eddie still puts those feathery kisses to your skin.

“You… you’re a musician…” you drawl out.

He looks up. “Yeah! How do you know?”

You take his hand from your chest and lick your wetness from his fingers before you turn his palm to him, sliding a fingertip over the calloused skin.

“You like that?” he grins.

You let go of his hand and nod. “Something with strings?”

“Guitar. And vocals.”

“Fuck you, you’re way too hot as it is…” you squeeze him with your thighs and his eyes go to that spot behind you again before he kisses your chest.

“What do you keep looking at?” you wiggle and crane your neck. It’s that painting. The one that has been haunting you for weeks.

“Sorry,” he scrunches up his nose. “I don’t know, draws me in somehow… it’s… weird… sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be…” you say and pull him up to you, kissing him. “You’re right.”

“Yeah?” he glances over again. “Well, fuck… yeah… m’ not gonna lie to you it’s kinda terrifying.” You both laugh. The warmth in your chest only expands more.

“Want to slather me in paint and fuck me against it?”

Eddie’s eyes widen as he glances between your face and the canvas. “Yes? Fuck yes!”

He pulls you up and into a hungry kiss, his thick cock hard against your belly.

 “Is that stuff safe to use?” he points his chin to some paint tubes on the trolley in the corner.

“No, oh god, no. But…” you leave him to look for a large bottle of black paint letting out a triumphant ha when you find it. You turn around beaming. “This here is… and will wash out of hair with no problem.”

“Come here…” he curls his finger to beckon you to him. “And hand that over.”

“Is that turning you on?” you ask as you join him.

“You have no idea.” Eddie takes the paint from you and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling your back to his chest. “You’re so pretty already with all my marks on you.” He walks you over to the canvas that way, his lips pressed close to your ear.

You turn in his arm and reach for his cock, stroking him softly. “How do you want me?”

“Fuck if I know… gimme a second and don’t stop that.” He looks at the canvas, really thinking about this. You suddenly want to pull his hair again. “Hands above your head, babe,” he says, opening the bottle of paint and squirts a generous amount into his hand. “Keep them clean. You have to put me inside you.”

You lean against the canvas; it’s large, so large that your outstretched arms above your head just graze the wooden frame inside.

Eddie’s hands are dripping black paint as he grabs your hips, bends down and sucks your nipple into his mouth before he kisses up to the crook of your shoulder to suck on you once more. “One last one before I make a mess out of you.” The contrast between the warmth of his lips and the cool paint as he slides his hands up your sides to your ribs makes you squirm and whimper. Eddie steps back to look at his work.

“Fuck, I’m an artist.”

He grabs the bottle from the floor and gets more paint, letting it drip right to your tits before smudging with splayed fingers. You watch him, mesmerized. When he is satisfied, he spins you around and pats your thigh as a sign to widen your stance. You feel him shuffle behind you as he presses himself against you and your chest against the canvas.

“Ready?”

You reach down, fumbling in the air for a moment before you find him. “You ready?”

 “Ye—ahhhh, you little minx,” he groans as you line him up and push back on him half the way. He holds you steady and slides in the rest of the way breathing out a long low fuuuuck. Then he stills. “Are you holding your breath? You ok?”

You are more than ok and you let the air out, your forehead dropping against the canvas. “It was that or letting everybody in the building know I’m getting stretched real fucking good right now…”

He angles your hips back and pushes closer. “Yeah, you are… shit, you’re unreal.”

“And you’re big. Gimme a moment.”

“All the time you want, I’m cosy here.”

While you get used to the stretch, Eddie caresses your back, rubbing small circles up the sides of your spine.

“I have a show next Tuesday,” he says kissing your shoulder. “Would love to see you in the first row.”

“Wouldn’t miss it… I assume it’s something hard?” you wiggle your ass, making you both sigh.

“You like it hard?” he laughs. “Music, I mean.”

“I do.”

“’Course you do. Can I fuck you now? Please?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Before the paint dries.”

He starts slow, pulling out almost all the way and sliding back in till he bottoms out. Your front slides against the canvas blackening out parts of it in big splotches.

“How’s this?” He’s so careful it makes your throat feel tight.

“You feel in-incredible.” You push back, meeting his thrusts as he picks up the pace.

“You’re incredible, sweetheart.”

Then you’re just getting lost in each other. His movements get rougher, more confident as he thrusts into you. You feel him deep inside you lighting little fires everywhere. A hand presses to the canvas next to your head, an arm loops around your waist and you yelp as he sharply slams into you. You beg him to do it again but he’s already on it, relentlessly fucking you into the canvas. Most of the paint is dry now, it’s prickling on your skin. Eddie moans your name into your ear, squeezing your tits and you squeeze your muscles around his cock.

“Shhh, babe…” you chuckle after he cries out.

“Fuck you,” he laughs hoarsely into your hair.

You’re so close again and you slip your hand between your legs but Eddie stops and pulls your arm to your back. “No nono, shit, not-not like that…”

“Eddie…”

“Stay like that,” he says and pulls out of you, leaving you empty and confused. There is some shuffling and then he is back behind you. “Going to be cold.”

“What— uhn!”

Paint trickles onto your arched back, sliding down your spine and making you shiver. Eddie gives your ass a little smack and turns you around, crowding you against the canvas, and hoists you up by your thighs.

“Oh my god,” you huff, wrapping your arms around his neck while he balances you out.

“Can’t do that all day but you’re close ‘n I wanna see that face when you come.” He leans you back to create some space between you. “Help me out, put me back inside you…”

You do as you’re told and you clench your thighs hard around his hips as he starts up almost at the same pace he stopped. He kisses you, so sloppy so wet you feel a string of spit between your mouths when he pulls back again to hook his arms under your knees and spreads you open so wide that you’re crying out his name.

“I got you,” he assures you, pounding into you at a new angle, so deep it makes you dizzy. “I got you, you can juuust fall apart…”

The noises you two are making where you’re joined are obscene.

“Holy shit,” you moan, “li-listen… those sounds.”

Eddie drops his head to your shoulder, sweat dripping from his forehead onto you. “Like fucking music…”

You laugh. “Fucking music indeed.”

“God, you’re perfect,” he presses out through a laugh and really leans into you. You grab a thick strand of hair and pull as your insides begin to tense.

“Oh… oh shit, don’t stop.”

The world tilts as he leans you back again. “Wouldn’t dare… touch yourself for me, I need to feel you come around me.”

“Come inside me, yeah?” you rasp as you circle your swollen throbbing clit.

His eyes bore into yours, the strain and pleasure all over his face. He’s a mess as much as you are. “Come on, darling… come for me… I want you to run through my fingers.”

And you swear you do: your head thumps against the wood frame as your muscles try to create a black hole or whatever happens under so much pressure, but who cares when this stupidly perfect man fucks you through the hardest orgasm anyone ever had while looking at you like he was fulfilling his fucking destiny. You can’t hear him over the blood rushing through your ears, but he looks so pretty with his nose scrunched up, a streak of black paint running over the bridge and his eyes shut tight. A few more thrusts and he collapses against your chest with stuttering hips, pinning you so hard against the wall that it drives the air out of you.

There is only breathing, hot air from his lungs against your tickling skin. You cup the back of his head and stroke his hair; he nuzzles deeper into your skin and makes a noise that sounds like fucking home.

“I need to put you down now… sorry.”

He puts you down but doesn’t let go. Kisses cover your face until you cup his cheeks and claim his mouth while he’s dripping down the inside of your thighs.

Then you giggle together, Eddie squeezing your ass with both hands, smiling at you so silly and soft. You’re thirsty, you let him have the bottle first and he gulps the water down, spilling down his chest, creating little rivers of paint that let the ink show through. You want to study those lines up close without twenty people around you, without the blinding fire of lust, but calm, taking your time asking questions.

“What’s going on up there?” he asks, tapping a finger against your forehead.

“I wanna study you some more,” you say, taking the bottle and down what’s left.

He doesn’t ask you what you mean, only tilts his head and smiles. Then he sits down in that worn-out armchair your mate had dragged in a few months ago, still naked, it isn’t time to cover up yet and you find a clean enough rag, climb into his lap and clean the paint off his face as gently as you can.

“Stop,” he grabs your hips, “do you have a camera or something?”

You do and the timer takes too long for you two not to start fooling around before the soft click of the shutter sounds. One more and one more and the film has only two more left and he pulls you in to kiss you just before the camera rewinds.

“You want to join me when I make the prints?”

“You, red light and chemicals?” he grins. “It’s a date.”

The painting is dry already; Guache dries rather fast, you explain to him. It’s itchy, he adds and scratches his chest, small flakes of black falling down to the floor. You sit in front of both your work, your head against his shoulder and your fingers fumbling with a strand of his hair that is stiff with paint.

“You know,” he says, “it would have made a damn good record cover before…”

“You can have a picture… I document every night before I go home.”

“Really? I mean, the picture?”

You brush sweaty hair off his forehead, “I’m sure it’s in good hands with you.”

He almost shoves you over when he kisses you, the giddy streak you saw earlier during class showing when he chuckles and licks your cheek like a puppy.

“It looks really good now though, don’t you think?”

“You’re just horny,” you laugh.

“What? You don’t like our work?” he pouts and this shouldn’t pull at your heart that much.

“I do,” you kiss the pout, “I was just teasing.”

“I mean it,” he looks at the canvas, “It’s a bit crooked and dented now, but that just adds to the charm.”

 “It has nothing on you though when it comes to charm.” You lean in with a sultry smile and his palm cups your breast and then—

A knock on the door. “Come on, you still fucking in there? I need to work.”

You look at each other with large eyes and break out laughing, scrambling for your clothes. Eddie hisses sharply when you slap his ass just before he pulls up his jeans and you forgo the bra because one strap did not survive Eddie’s enthusiasm. There is paint sticking out of his collar that you couldn’t clean before your photo shoot and you remember to put the film in your pocket while he kisses your temple because he seems to can’t help himself but stay close to you.

“Ready?” you ask and he grabs your hand and nods, following you out.

“Finally,” your mate says, but smiles when she sees you. “Aren’t you that new model?”

“Muse,” he grins without further explanation.

You hand her the key, mouth a small sorry and admit it when she calls you out on your lie.

His hand is warm in yours, his thumb playing with your knuckles as you walk back through the hallway.

“So,” he says, “we gonna shower at your or my place?”

[bruttacera]

WIP in which Chrissy and Eddie scream their souls out hehe

[hitorimaron]

Inspired by Date me instead by @zhuletta

[deafeningmoontragedy]

"She wore overalls"- Soccer

Series Masterlist

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Plus size reader

Chapter Two

CW: Broken home, undiagnosed autism, sexual tension, drunken parents

AN: This is going to be your favourite multiple part, slowly falling in love fanfic about Eddie Munson! Nah not really, but hopefully you'll enjoy it. If you want to hear anything in this story or you would like me to write anything to fulfil your Eddie Munson dreams, feel free to request anything!

“What's for dinner?” Finney's voice whispered over the phone “Tomorrow night a special antre of mac and cheese with home baked garlic bread” you said dramatically, earning a giggle from your younger brother. “Ok great, me and Luke are gonna’ play football after school, can I come over at five?” he asked cautiously “Of course you can, just be safe ok?” “Finney!” a voice shouted on the other side of the line, your mother. “Gotta go, bye” and the phone clicked. 

With a sinking feeling you placed the phone back on the wall and rested your face in your hands. Stopping tears from falling you applied pressure to your eyelids. 

Tuesday rolled around and before you knew it your classes were over and you were walking up the stairs to the third floor of your building. Unlocking the door you were met by the sight of Eddie Munson. His feet kicked up on the coffee table watching something on the small box tv, his hand rested in his lap as the other was strewed on the back of the couch. 

“Oh, hey” you said as you kicked your shoes off “Didn't know you would be here” you said surprised. “Yeah lara called me during the day, told me where the spare key was and told me to let myself in” he sat up straight and set his feet on the floor. 

“Ok cool, are you staying for dinner?” you asked as you walked past the back of the couch towards your room. “That was the plan” he said with a grin. You set your bag down on the floor and walked back out into the living room “My brother Finneys coming over for dinner, just FYI” you announced as he looked in your direction. 

“Oh nice, how old is he?” he asked, trying to conversate. You sat down on the couch, facing him with your legs crossed, you adjusted your shirt to hide your stomach. “13 yeah he comes over every tuesday” you told him. “Ah to be thirteen again, no worrying about graduating finally, girls, life, money, everything” he sighed, adjusting himself on the couch to get comfortable, 

“I hear ya, but when I was thirteen I just spent my days playing board games and reading, oh and painting” you grinned. “Oh yeah? Me too, I guess I’m still 13 then” he laughed “Yeah well girls mature faster, you'll get there” you joked tapping his thigh twice. 

Eddie looked into your eyes and for a second the moment got tense, he broke off the silence with a cough and asked “So uh, what board games did you play?” “Well, it's not really a classic board game per say, but dungeons and dragons” Eddie's face fell “Yeah we had a small group in middle school, but then it sort of fizzled, guess it wasn't cool anymore” you continued. “Now way man!” he exclaimed “what?” you asked confused “I play DnD too, yeah dungeon master” he held his hands out in a bragging way. 

You chuckled “Ha what a coincidence” “Man, a chick playing DnD now that is rarer than diamonds” he said astonished “If only i could get Lara to play but she keeps telling me how lame it is and how she doesnt want to play with kids. Well the kids at my school” you frowned, that seemed a bit of a rude thing to say of Lara. 

“If you don't mind me asking, I mean Lara told me some about why you're still in school. Can I ask why you got expelled?” you asked cautiously, looking down in your lap. “Oh, oh yeah no problem” he lagged “its actually kind of stupid, but me and a friend of mine, we uh” he chuckled “we streaked, and ran through the school”

You couldn't help it, a snort escaped your throat as you doubled with laughter. Your head bumped against his thigh and you fell together on top of him. He began laughing too, seconds passed and you popped up again “That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard! Why would you streak?!” you wheezed. 

He was laughing too “Well, 17 and stupid, not a good combo” he retorted, you snported again, and just as you were about to say something the door bell rang. “Oh that must be Finney!” 

You hopped up and opened the door. Eddie introduced himself to Finney and soon after Finney was sitting on the couch watching tv as you prepared the dinner. 

“Hey let me help you” Eddie said as he saw you struggling to reach a large serving bowl at the top of the cubbured. “Yeah thanks, being 5’3” with 6 '' tall cabinets isn't the most ideaal” you giggled. 

Eddie walked over to you and before you knew it he was stood behind you, leaning over you to reach the bowl, on instinct, you froze. His chest was pressed against your shoulders, his hair tickling your neck, and his scent drifting up your nose. 

He reached the bowl, grabbed it and took it down. He was off you and stood next to you, holding the bowl out to you. 

Lara walked through the door and you coughed “Thanks” you mumbled, taking it from him and busying yourself with pouring the pasta into it. Eddie greeted his girlfriend with a kiss and a hug and within minutes you were all sat by the round table digging into the food. 

“So finney, what do you do in your spare time?” Eddie asked interestedly “I like soccer, and reading, and coming here and going to school” finney answered matter of factly. “Are you in a soccer team?” Eddie asked, “No, I play with a friend,” Finney said in the same monotone voice. 

“I like soccer too” Lara chirped. 

Meeting new people always took some extra effort for finney, there were only a rare few people he was close to and could open up to, and lara wasn't one of them. She was always nice to him, but there was something about her he didn't like. 

“Maybe after dinner we could go out and play” Eddie suggested, clearly trying to make friends with the kid. Finney threw a panicked look towards you and relaxed when you flashed him a smile and nodded at him “Yes, ok” he told eddie. 

“I’ll even come too if you like” you assured Finney, ensuring he wasn't going to be alone with him, a strange man. He only nodded as he had a mouthful of garlic bread. 

“Aw man! Are you sure you don't play varsity?” Eddie complained as he missed another goal from finney. He giggled, and caught the ball in his hands that Eddie threw towards him. 

“Oh my god, isn't he just the sweetest?” Lara gushed. The two of you watched the boys play on the field down the street. “Ha, yeah” you agreed, raising your eyebrows. 

It was actually adorable seeing how Eddie was trying to be Finney's friend and clearly, it was working. It even warmed your heart to see how safe he made Finney feel. But after the whole thing in the kitchen and the guilty feeling that sat in your stomach you didn't want to say anything about the man now falling to his knees at another lodd of caught goals. 

You laughed at his dramatics and so did finney, by the end of the evening you were giving finney a big hug as you dad sat in the car outside the apartment and to your surprise, just as he was about to open the door to the car, he turned. He ran up to the tree adults and wrapped his arms around eddie. A huge smile spread on his face as he hugged the boy who was just a little bit taller than half his height. 

Finney ran back to the car and plopped into the seat, a shy grin on his face as he grinned to you and Eddie, Lara almost forgotten on the kirb.

[hawkins-losers]

You’re my best view (part 2) | Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You fulfill your promise and take polaroids for your boyfriend

Word count: 1.6k

Warning: nudity? 

A/N: This ended up being so much longer than planned and I’m not even sorry. It’s also the type of girlfriend I am, but that’s bc I’m an artsy bitch 

Part one

-

It’s been three weeks since you mentioned it and it’s been three weeks of Eddie asking you when you’d do that damn polaroid you promised him.

The day had finally come.

On Thursdays, Eddie's uncle had an earlier shift at the factory, meaning the trailer was empty at an earlier time. You took advantage of that knowledge and planned accordingly.

That meant convincing Eddie to move his Hellfire club meeting.

''Why did you ask me to cancel my 'Satanic worshiping' tonight?'' he asked as you got out of the van and headed inside the trailer, quoting a news magazine about Dungeon & Dragons.

''I did not ask you to cancel it, I asked you to move it to tomorrow. That's different,'' you corrected, sliding your backpack off your shoulder and down on the table.

‘’Same thing,’’ he waved off, closing the door behind you. ‘’So, are you finally going to tell me why? You were being very secretive and promised me I would not be regretting it. It better not be a catch to get me to help you study for Biology class or something because, unless it’s body anatomy, I’m not going to be a great help.’’

You chuckled at the ground. ‘’That’s not it.’’

‘’Thank you, Jesus.’’

‘’Check in my bag, I got a surprise for you.’’

Eddie cocked an eyebrow, curious.

A surprise could mean a lot of things. It could be a movie you rented and a bag of popcorn, sexy lingerie - although that would already be on you and not in the bag -, a tupperware of cookies you had baked, the latest record of one of his favorite bands, or, in tonight's case your polaroid camera.

You watched as he unzipped your backpack, trying to hold back a smile, impatient to see his reaction. His doe eyes rounded up like saucers at the sight of the polaroid camera, and his lips twisted into a Cheshire cat smile, immediately putting two and two together.

A film camera would’ve been more practical to use, but you didn’t trust anyone to develop them. It’s too easy to print one more and keep it in your pocket for personal use. The idea of a stranger having a sexy picture of you on their nightstand and wanking every night to it made you sick to your stomach and very uncomfortable.

Eddie flickered his eyes to you, seeing a bounce in his bones, unable to contain his excitement. ‘’Where is it? Is it in there?’’ He motioned to your backpack.

You shook your head. ‘’No. I need someone to take them for me.’’

‘’Them? As in…more than one?’’

You nodded slowly. There were five polaroids left to take in this camera.

You took a few steps toward the tall young man, tying your arms behind his neck as you made eye contact with him. ‘’Eddie Munson, will you do me the honor of being my personal photographer tonight?’’

As if possible, his smile widened even more. He grabbed your face and kissed you. ‘’Fuck yes.’’

Although the creative concept was quite simple, the ‘make it happen’ part was not.

While Eddie tidied the bed and cleaned a little - an empty bag of chips and a condom wrapper were not good background decor accessories -, you stood before his closet and picked out the shirt you’ll be wearing for the pictures. It was messy and some shirts were very creased from having fallen off their hanger and down the bottom. You were tempted by this Black Sabbath one, but, out of the corner of your eye, you recognized the shirt he gave you the first night you slept over.

It was the one.

‘’Found something to your liking, sweetheart? There’s some a few the dryer too.’’

You said nothing.

In silence, you removed your sweater and jeans and slipped the black and white raglan shirt over your head. It reached about your mid thigh and it smelled woody and spicy, topped with a tinge of weed.

‘’How do I look?’’

Eddie turned around, his jaw almost dropping at the sight. He looked at you with admiration in his eyes and swiped his tongue over his plump lips, feeling his body react instantly. ‘’Are you trying to kill me? You know I can’t control myself when you wear that? It’s my weakness. I swear you woke up today and thought ‘ah today is a beautiful day to kill my boyfriend’.’’

You threw your head back laughing at his antics. His sarcasm and sense of humor were one of the things that seduced you first.

You sat on the bed and Eddie had to fight the envy to pull you on his lap and make out.

Instead he asked, ‘’What’s the plan? I’m no photographer, so you gotta guide me here.’’

‘’I’m gonna do pretty much all of the work. All you gotta do is check in the viewfinder, make sure I’m in frame, and push the button to take the picture.’’

He rolled his eyes. ‘’I know how to use a polaroid camera. I meant, how do I get the right shot? We only got five and I don’t want to mess up.’’

It was cute that he cared this much about the project. That he wanted all the pictures to look beautiful and sexy and not just…dirty - something to jerk off to. If he wanted pictures of that genre, he could just open one of his Playboy magazines under his bed.

The first picture was simple. Just you, sitting on the bed with Eddie's precious red electric guitar. Eddie's Hellfire club shirt was relaxed on your body and exposing most of your thighs as you sat cross-legged. Your hands and fingers were positioned as taught, making it seem like you were playing for real.

For the second one, you laid on your back against the pillows, still holding the guitar. The angle was changed, now exposing your underwear - and the hickey on your right inner thigh - to the camera while Eddie sat on the end of the bed, watching with hungry eyes. He felt his dick stiffening at the sight before him, causing his jeans to become tight and uncomfortable.

He reached for his belt to release some of the pressure down there, but you stopped him.

‘’Nuh-uh.’’ You shook your head. ‘’You take nothing off.’’

‘’Wha- That’s unfair! That was not part of the plan,’’ he began to protest. ‘’How can I sit there and watch you undress and do these sexy pictures if I don’t get to - at least - take my pants off? You know how you make my dick feel. One small peak of your tits and my pants are about to burst.’’

With a mischievous smile on your lips, you grabbed the bottom of your shirt and lifted it to flash him.

Eddie groaned painfully. ‘’You little devil.’’ The corner of his lips twitched and he grabbed your ankles. ‘’Get over here,’’ he said, pulling you down and closer to him, making you squeal and giggle.

Your shirt had ridden up due to the movement, exposing your under-boobs.

You didn’t bother fixing it.

Hesitantly, Eddie grabbed the camera. He searched your eyes for consent and pushed the button after getting a nod. This one was a little more on the dirty side, but a little glimpse was nothing too scandalous, right?

You heard the soft click and the polaroid was released. Eddie put it on the table to develop and sent the camera down again. He leaned over you, connecting your lips and slipping his tongue in. Your hands went to his hair, feeling his soft curls and pulling a little as the kiss deepened, while his snaked up your body and to your chest, the coldness of his silver rings making goosebumps raise on your skin. One of his thumbs brushed over the bud of your nipple, making you gasp softly into the kiss and arch your back.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling yourself closer and grinding down. His jeans were rough against your soft skin, but you did it again.

Eddie moaned at the feeling, breaking the kiss. ‘’If you do that again, we’ll never finish this shooting,'' he warned against your lips.

A part of you wanted to say 'fuck the shooting', your body craving his in all the possible ways, but another part wanted to continue playing model.

You captured his bottom lip between your teeth and pulled, teasing a little more before breaking away and taking the shirt off completely, leaving you topless.

Between your collarbones, there was a dainty silver chain with a small pendant of your lover's initial, matching Eddie's. Unlike your school's basketball players who lended their jersey or team jackets to their girlfriend to mark them as theirs, this jewelry represented that you were the only one who really knew the other.

He was about to kiss you again, thinking the shooting was over, but you grabbed the camera. ''Let's do the last two.''

‘’Are you sure?’’ Eddie asked with a puzzled look on his face, his eyes shifting from the camera to yours.

Although you had said no nudes - which Eddie was totally fine with and respected -, you wanted to take a topless picture. You felt confident enough and safe enough to take one. You trusted the hands in who it would be in.

‘’Yes.’’

Later into the night, after a shower and fixing something to eat, you took a look at the now developed pictures and smiled pleasantly at the result. They could’ve been better. The lighting was weird on two of them and you could see perfectly the handcuffs by Eddie’s bed - which you once used in bed -, but you made them together and that’s what made them special.

You took the one where you were clothed the most and handed it to Eddie, who was confused. ‘’That one you can keep in your van. You know, in case you need to show off your hot girlfriend.’’

He shook his head and grabbed the rest from your hands. ‘’Hell the fuck no. No one's going to see any of these. All mine.’’

-

Taglist:  @broadway-or-noway​ @violetsleftfist​ @thelaststraw3​  @cursedandromedablack​  @Slashersimpfor  @savagejane1​  @wh0reforbucknasty  @eddiemunson-slut  @slvdsjjk​  @hehehehannahthings  @dreamdancers-world  @grace-loux

Eddie Munson taglist: @nighttwingg @yourfavoriteakutagawakinnie​ @heizenka @eddiemvunsongf @Eddie_munsons_girlfriend

[hornedqueenofhell]

Hidden Depths Pt. 1

Keith was fully prepared to fire Steve after a week, pull the whole 'sorry but we don't feel like you're a good fit for the company' line and get him out of there. Before Robin fell for his charms and he missed his chance. Her passionate speech about all the girls Harrington would bring in was obviously a lie, he wasn't even that charming striking out over and over. Keith would think it was some pathetic jock way of trying to get Keith a rebound if he thought Steve gave a rip about him at all.

The high school washout was slowly putting returns back on the shelf in the family section, he'd tell Steve to hurry up but they were dead as fuck today and once those were done there would be nothing else to do and they would be stuck standing at the counter together. Keith would rather eat broken glass.

The high school had gotten out early today so everyone was taking advantage of the pre-summer break break. All except for one kid apparently. Dustin Henderson burst through the door, curly hair stuffed under a hat and a wide grin on his face.

"Steve!" The kid shouted before Keith could start on his welcome spiel and that immediately landed him on Keith's shit list. He wondered if the rest of the dork patrol would be following behind, he still hadn't forgiven Sinclair for failing to set up that date for him.

"Hey Dusty-Buns!" Steve called back and the kid immediately grimaced. Keith straightened up and prepared to step in, he couldn't have asked for a better opportunity than this. He'd get to toss Harrington on his ass for harassing a customer. Oh that would be the best payback! Robin would be so impressed.

"Ugh, Steveeeee. That's Suzie's name and you know it. Are we still on for d&d Friday?"

Keith could practically hear the car crash of his thoughts piling up. What?! Steve Harrington and that demonic dice game in the same sentence? He had to have heard that wrong.

"Yeah, and I'm sure I don't need to remind you to clean up after yourselves this time if you ever want to play at my house again. If my living room starts smelling like Wheeler's basement I will ban you all myself. I found Dorito powder between my couch cushions!"

"Yeah yeah I'll remind them. Can I come over early and play my new Weird Al tape?"

"Yeah sure kid." Steve ruffles the kids hat and the boy beams. So Keith didn't hear wrong, he just fell asleep at the counter out of sheer boredom.

"Thanks Steve, I'll see you tomorrow for movie night. Please don't let Robin pick another of her weird artsy movies. The last one was in French."

Steve just chuckles like he's a normal guy and that's just a thing he does. This is a weird dream.

"I'll do my best. Now run along before Eddie boils in his van." He gives the kid a hug and a light push out the door. Keith is so lost in the revelation that Steve was referring to Eddie Munson that he forgot to fire him that day.

And then Robin found the letter he'd written in preparation on his desk the next morning and ripped into him. He couldn't exactly ask Robin out if she quit in solidarity with Harrington and he was not going back to covering the entire day every day by himself, so Harrington stayed.

Apparently I'm just going to keep dragging minor characters into the light with my fics? I don't know but enjoy I guess?

Part 2