#service top eddie munson

[manicpixiedreamcurl]

Just Make it Better｡*.✧

Pairing | Eddie Munson x bartender!reader

Warnings | 18+ only, porn with a fair bit of plot, swearing, oral (female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, AU where the pull out method is infallible, he comes on reader but like in a romantic way. 

Word Count | ~4,830

A/N | Eddie: that's what's killing the kids!!! Me, twirling my hair: haha, wow, so true, Eddie.

It was super fun to watch stranger things 4 late and say to myself, wow Eddie is so cute, I wonder if there’s any fics of him, then hop on tumblr and find out he's the internet's latest boyfriend. Happy to be here with you all. 

“Hi, sweet boy,” you coo, squatting down to let the little black and white cat rub his face against your hand. When you place the plate down for him, he lets you keep petting him for a while before he goes for it, as if he knows that’s the price of the food you bring him each night. 

You’ve been affectionately calling him Banjo, after the instrument that was playing in the bar the first time you saw him, when he was all skin and bones. His fur is softer and fuller since you first encountered him mewling by the dumpster behind the Hideout. Steady meals and a little love have brought back his willingness to groom himself. “You’re looking real cute these days, mister.”

“You really know how to make a guy jealous.” You jump at the sudden voice from behind, falling on your ass on the ground beside your stray friend. Banjo, who has become less jumpy the longer you’ve known him, doesn’t even look up from his dinner. 

“Jesus Christ, Eddie!” You yell, pushing yourself up to stand, rubbing your hands on the front of your denim shorts.

You should have known he’d appear. He never let a Tuesday go by without talking to you, but you’d thought you could avoid him today. Banjo was probably here twenty minutes ago, waiting for you, but you kept yourself behind the bar until Eddie and his band were almost finished on the makeshift stage in the corner of the Hideout. You’d thought, foolishly, that he might take the hint and leave before you came back inside. 

If he had, it would have guaranteed you another week of not going home with him.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says in earnest, having the humility to look a little guilty. “Just wondering why the little guy gets all the compliments.”

You don’t answer, embarrassed that Eddie saw you acting like that. All soft for a dumb cat. He might get ideas about the kind of person you are.

“What are you doing out here, anyway?”

“Was looking for you. Wanted to tell you the big news,” he grins, widening his arms. “You are looking at a member of the Hawkins High graduating class of 1986. Got the diploma and everything.”

Your look is impassive. “Amazing to think what somebody can achieve in just ten years.”

“Only six, actually,” he corrects, joy unwavering. He watches you pick up Banjo’s plate and give him a couple long strokes down his back, standing to the side to keep the back door open and allow you through. 

“So, what’s next, Eddie? Let me guess. MIT, right?”

It’s mean, you know it is. But you can’t help yourself when it comes to him. 

When you first started working at the Hideout, the Summer after you yourself graduated, you tried keeping him at arm’s length gently. You were all one word answers for a while. But he could deal with that, easily. Half the kids in his club started like that. He’d coaxed every one of them out of their shell, building them up from shy, quiet boys to almost-men willing to stand on a shitty little stage and play their own music in front of a whole room of people who’d maybe rather they weren’t there.

So you’d changed tack. Instead, for the last year, you’ve been trying to beat him away. Trying to make it as clear as possible.

I’m not worth it. I’m not good for you. I won’t ever make you happy. 

The success of this tactic had been hampered, you knew, by the way you let him take you back to his uncle’s trailer every once in a while.

“I’ve got plans,” Eddie’s eyes sparkle, more sure of himself than a new graduate has any right to be.

“And these plans involve continuing to play here every Tuesday,”

“Well, I know you’d miss our little chats,” he says. “Besides, we are technically supposed to get paid for playing here, and I haven’t actually seen Tommy in like two months?” 

You hum. That sounds about right. Tommy had started to make a habit of letting you close up on Tuesdays, especially. “Try letting him smack your ass next time you see him,” you answer. “That usually puts him in a good enough mood to pay properly.” 

Eddie makes a face like he’s considering it. “We’ll maybe make that Plan B.”

That almost earns him a smile, but you push it down. “Great, now, get out from behind the bar.”

Eddie bows his head a little like he’s apologising. He jogs round the bar, hair flying behind him before he settles himself on the stool across from you. 

“Honey?” You glance down the bar at one of the regulars. “Can I get two beers for me and my buddy?”

“Uh-huh, which buddy’s that, Murphy?” He makes a non committal noise, gesturing vaguely behind him. “Yeah, nice try, but we agreed, three tops. This is the last one, then it’s Pepsi for the rest of the night, okay?”

He grunts, but doesn’t complain, just grabbing the open beer you hand him and returning to his place at the edge of the room. 

You glance at Eddie, finding him smiling at you warmly. “So, what did you think of the show?”

You purse you lips, trying to look like you’re really thinking about it. “You certainly make me appreciate the talents of real musicians, Eddie.”

In truth, you admire Eddie and his friends, playing their music every Tuesday for an audience that barely realises they’re there. And it’s good; loud and real and alive. Stuff you’d listen to in the car, if you had one, and if they ever made a real record.

And you like watching him play, especially. Eddie has always had confidence you couldn’t believe, but when he’s got a guitar in his hands it’s like it has somewhere to go. The way he looks with his head thrown back, hair wild about his face. It’s half the reason you tried to avoid him tonight, knowing you were too worked up to say no if he asked to take you back to his.

“Your children are waiting on you,” you tell him, looking pointedly behind him at his bandmates who you know for a fact are too young to be in here. They’re watching both of you with the dumb grins boys get when their friends talk to a girl. God, you can believe he just graduated. This feels exactly like being in high school. 

“I can, uh, give them a ride and come back for you, if you want,” he says, gently, scratching the side of his neck. 

You swallow, knowing exactly what will happen if you let Eddie bring you back to his trailer. You mentally count how long it’s been since you let him touch you. At least a month. Longer, if the warmth between your thighs is any indicator. 

This is the worst part. However you say it, accepting his invitation is telling him that you’re thinking about him, that you want him. 

“Okay,” you say lightly. Looking away from his eyes, so intent on you. 

“Yeah?” He grins, throwing his shoulders back and nodding. “Okay, I will see you at one then.”

You hum, still trying to make it seem like you don’t care either way. When he’s gone, you squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment and regret. Fuck, why couldn’t you just tell him, once and for all, that you aren’t interested. He’d listen, you know he would. He wouldn’t like it, but if you really told him that you didn’t want to keep doing this, that he should stop talking to you, stop inviting you home, then he would. 

You’re resigned to it, the rest of the night. Even as you’re flipping chairs on top of tables, you’re rehearsing what to say. Listen, I’m just gonna go home, you plan out every word in your head. I don’t think this is going where you want it to, Eddie, and we’ll both be better off if you leave me be from now on.

Only, there he is at the window, smiling and waving at you like an excited boy about to take you to prom. 

He even opens the passenger door of his van for you.

The whole way, he talks at you easily, letting you wallow in silence. He tells you about his final month at high school, the way he’d clawed his way towards a D in English, which surprises you, given how much he reads. 

It’s strange, listening to him talk about something that feels so long ago, now, for you. But you were there, together at one point, even if you never spoke to Eddie at all while you were. Different circles, different friends. Not that any of yours lasted past senior year. Eddie was the only person you talked to from school, these days. 

It has you thinking, what it would have been like if you’d spoken to Eddie, properly, when you were in high school still. What would he have thought of you, if he knew you before life decided things were a little too good and kicked you in the teeth? Would he like you better without the jagged edges? Would you let him be sweet with you, outside of his bed, like he wants to be?

Eddie lets you into his trailer first, directing you straight to his bedroom, as always, after the one time Wayne had come home early. He hadn’t caught you on your knees for Eddie, the way you had been when you heard his car pull up in the middle of the night. But he had caught sight of you disappearing into the bathroom. He had seen Eddie standing there with your bra held behind his back, trying to casually untuck his shirt from his newly pulled up pants to cover the wet patch where you had pressed your mouth over the denim just to see him throw his head back. 

It had taken him two months to get you here again.

“So, they both have girlfriends?” You ask, incredulous, breathing out smoke that already has you a little more relaxed, a little giggly with him. He’s telling you about the youngest in his group, and the weird way they try to one up each other when they talk about the girls that conveniently both live in different states.

“So they claim,” he nods, taking the offered joint from your fingers and resting it in the ashtray beside his bed. “Amazing how times change. Girls were certainly not impressed by guys that play fantasy games, when I was fifteen.”

You hum, not sure that’s true. You remember Eddie at fifteen. He was just starting to grow his hair out, and it looked crazy, sure. But his eyes were as they are now, big and expressive. 

“Maybe not when you were fifteen, but don’t tell me you haven’t had a couple cheerleaders going through a rebellious phase in this bed over the years.” There’s a pause, and you catch Eddie glancing up at the ceiling. You howl a laugh. “I fucking knew it. Some metalhead you are. You liked the same girls all those basketball players were into.”

“No need to be jealous, sweetheart,” 

That has you rolling your eyes, whether he’s right or not. “As if I’d be jealous of Hayley Matthews.” You watch his eyes for a twitch, any hint of being caught out, but he’s just watching you, unamused. “Olivia? Zoe Miller!” His expression is unflinching, increasingly frustrating you. You grab his wrist and squeeze. “C’mon, tell me!” 

He tries to shake your hand off his wrist but you just hold on to it with the other, opening your mouth to try and irritate him more when he grabs your hands in his and presses them together, pinning them against your stomach. Arousal zings up your back, the wetness between your legs that has been there since he first strummed a chord at the bar suddenly much more noticeable. 

None of this gets past Eddie, who shakes his head at you in disapproval, voice harsh. “You know, you’re getting kind of predictable, sweetheart.” 

You rub your thighs together, anticipation making your head a little fuzzy already. You’re so close to getting what you want from him. In a second, he’ll flip you over and tug off your shorts, pull your hips up and bend himself over your back. Then he’ll give you his cock, and his groans in the air above your head. He’ll let you bite his sheets and smell him on them. Soon you’ll feel good and owned until your head is empty, like you want it.

Only, Eddie just lets your hands go, and backs away from you. You watch, fighting a pout as he stands by the bed and removes his t-shirt, grinning at the way your eyes dart between his tattoos, his necklace, then back to his face. He reaches for you, grasps your hips and this is it. But he’s not turning you over. He’s pulling you towards him, your ass almost hanging off the side of his mattress, his big hands resting on your hips. He lets you squirm and avoid eye contact for a second before he works the button of your shorts open, pulling them down your legs and off your feet. He throws them over his shoulder in a way that might make you laugh at him if he weren’t staring at you like that. 

Eddie hums, hooking his arms under your legs to open them up for him. He leans his body over yours, and for a second you think he’s going to kiss you. But his lips find your neck instead, soft kisses he trails down to the neckline of your shirt. He shoves the fabric of it up, up and over your chest, face still pressed against your collar bone when he tucks his fingers into your bra to pull it down over your tits. 

You let him do everything wordlessly, not exactly able to complain even if he’s doing this softer, slower than you normally get him to. His breath goes a little funny when he pulls back to glance at your chest, but he’s back to himself in a second, burying his face against the skin between your tits before he drags his lips up to pull at your nipple. You feel a little bit of teeth on the sensitive skin and whimper, pushing the heel of your hand into his sheets. 

You moan outright when he rubs his thumb against your clit over your panties, digging the material between your lips. You feel his grin against the underside of your breast, then on the skin by your belly button and above your panties. “Eddie,” you say, trying to sound put together even as he has you ready to beg. “You don’t have to.”

He pulls your panties to the side with one hand and glides his fingers up your pussy with the other, stopping at your clit to give you a little rub with the rough pads of his guitarist fingers. “I can see that,” he answers, grinning and dropping to his knees by the edge of the bed. He pulls your panties further to the right and out to let him get his head where he wants it. 

You cry out his name when he gets his mouth on you, immediately lifting your hips up and off the bed with your feet on the edge. You feel his laugh against your cunt as he presses you gently back down to the mattress. There’s no teasing, just his wet, soft tongue playing with your button, drifting down to give your hole a wide lick before he’s back looking after your clit. 

Your hand is gentle, threading through the hair at the top of his head to hold him to you, even though he doesn’t even pull away for a second. You dare yourself to look away from his ceiling, down your own torso to his face between your legs, whining to find him with his eyes already on you. 

You feel the tips of his fingers circling your hole, rubbing over your entrance before letting them glide inside, pressing immediately against the spot that has you throwing your other hand down to his hair and grasping him tighter. 

Everything is numb but the pleasure building deep in your cunt, his soft hair between your fingers and your thighs. “Eddie,” you gasp, needing something, you don’t know what. You whine, wanting him to know what to do to make it happen for you, like he always does. “Eddie, please.”

He shakes his head between your thighs, his tip of his tongue bullying your clit, and then he’s pulling your hand from his hair. Turning his palm to yours, he curls his ringed fingers between yours, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. 

You squeeze his big hand as he pushes you over, hips jerking against his face wildly. You cry out at the intensity of him still playing with your twitching button as the pleasure in that spot becomes unbearable. He gives your clit one final kiss, a little suction between his lips that has you slamming both your hands against the mattress repeatedly. When he takes his fingers from your pussy, you can feel the slick that follows them leaking out of you. Without hesitation, Eddie buries his fingers in his mouth, tongue dragging between them as he pulls them back out, already clean of you. 

The other hand, still grasped in your own, he brings to his lips as he stands. He presses his swollen, wet lips to the back of it, along your knuckles. 

When he untangles your fingers, your chest aches.

“C’mon,” he says, so gentle. “Want you naked.” 

You pull your top over your head, relief at the new cool air on your heated skin almost overwhelming. Eddie focuses on getting your underwear off while you remove your bra, then he tugs your socks off your feet. 

He smiles at you, tilting his head. His gaze moves over you, up from your swollen cunt to your face, which you’re sure is giving away everything you’re feeling. A little shock, some nerves. All your adoration. 

“So pretty, all over,” he says, kissing your knee that’s still tucked up to keep you open for him. “Pretty cunt, pretty tits, pretty face,” he grins against your skin. “Pretty girl.”

You can’t help yourself when you giggle, feeling a little manic from what just happened. Eddie’s eaten you out before, lots. Before and after he’s had his cock in you. But not like that, never so gentle yet frantic, like he was desperate to do it, not to get you wet enough for him, but to make you feel legless and soft on his bed. 

You miss his hand in yours. 

The metallic jangle of his belt buckle has you shaking your hips in excitement, wanting him now, now, now. 

“I know,” Eddie says, unzipping his pants and pushing them down over his narrow hips. His thick cock is flushed pink, his balls heavy and swollen and fuzzy with dark hair. The sight of his cock has you wrapping your hands around the back of your legs and pulling back, not even feeling judged or insecure when he laughs at your movement, but just more desperate. 

Eddie takes some deep, slow breaths, wrapping his hand around his swollen cock and pulling the skin back over his wet, sticky head. You don’t know why you’re not telling him to hurry up, you’re feeling desperate enough for it. But it doesn’t feel like your place right now, to tell him what to do with himself, or with you. 

Eddie watches your face as he drags the head of his cock up, his wide head catching your hole then pushing at your sensitive clit. Your mouth sits open, ready to moan when he finally gives it to you, but for now you’re just gasping, giving him little girlish whines that have his cock twitching in his hand.

He breathes out through his nose when he catches his cock against your entrance a final time, sliding himself into your wet, clenching cunt and groaning through his closed mouth. 

You clasp onto his shoulders as he builds his pace, stroking himself in and out of you steadily, the wet sound of your cunt clasping onto him filling the room. His hair falls round the sides of his head, and you wish that he’d tuck it behind his shoulders so you could see his lovely face better. 

He does, throwing his head back like a lion shaking its mane to get it out of his face, making you breathe a quick laugh. Eddie’s eyes are so soft on you, then, his hands gentle on your hips. “You wanted to see me, huh?” 

He always knows. 

“Mmm-hmm,” you whine, fingers digging into him.

“You like looking at me while I fuck you?” You shift your hips against his, dizzy with the questions when you don’t want to be thinking anymore, not when his cock is finally getting good use of your cunt like you wanted. “C’mon,” he murmurs, leaning over you, his face now close to yours. Oh, that makes you squeeze around him, enough that you see him pull his eyebrows together. “You like looking at me?”

“Yeah,” you whine, hoping that’s the last of it.

“You’re usually so mean to me,” he breathes, hand coming up to stroke the hair back from your forehead. You mewl at the stuttered thrusts he gives you, grasping him pleadingly. “So fucking mean all the time, but that’s okay.” He smiles at you, thumb stroking over the top of your cheek. “It’s what you need, so you can be good for me like this. Isn’t that right?” 

You’re staring at his big eyes, your vision steadily blurring. “Yes, Eddie,”

“Yeah, I thought so, baby,” he coos, pressing kisses under your eyes. “And you’re so good for me when I get my cock inside you,” he nods you through your cry, letting you know it’s all okay. “So good for me when I touch you.”

“I wanna be good,” you tell him, feeling overwhelmed, but suddenly desperate for him to know. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” 

“I wanna be good, Eddie,” you cry, tears finally falling down the sides of your eyes. He hushes you, holding your face in his big hands, thumbs wiping the wetness away from your burning cheeks. You squeeze his shoulders, wanting him to kiss you. 

It’s like he knows. He always fucking knows. Eddie presses his soft lips to yours, breathing in your cries from the constant movement of him over you, inside you. He draws his hips back, then up as he pushes in and oh God. 

“Eddie,” you gasp.

“That’s it, yeah?” You nod desperately, reaching out almost blind through the tears in your eyes to find his hand and drag it to the top of your cunt, his laugh above you breathy. “I’ve got you,” Eddie says, letting you press his fingers to your clit. He flattens three of them against your sensitive button, rubbing in wide circles that have your thighs shaking. 

You realise suddenly that you’ve been holding your breath, feeling it fall out of you in a wail. You stare at his face as the feeling builds, spreading from the spot the head of Eddie’s cock is dragging against with each thrust to your clit and up your spine. His cheeks are spotted pink, the hair covering his forehead frizzy but for where it’s sticking to his skin. His wide eyes are intent on yours as he nods. “C’mon,” he says, his cock twitching and you realise he needs you to get yours first. “Let me feel it, then I’ll give you my cum all over your little pussy, just how you like.”

Your whole body spasms when you come, your toes curling, your legs pushing up and out enough that Eddie has to put some effort into keeping you in place. He’s murmuring praise all the way through, telling you how good you are for him, how nice your little pussy feels clenching and pulling at his cock. 

“You, now,” you say, encouraging him along, wanting to see him and feel the evidence of his pleasure on you. 

Eddie gives a long groan, and you feel his cock twitch and flex inside before he drags himself from your hole. It sounds like it hurts to leave your warmth, and a little, insane, part of you thinks about telling him to put it back in and cum inside, if that’s what he wants. 

But he’s already at the edge. You watch through hooded eyes as he plays with his cock over your sex, curling his body over yours and slapping his hand on the mattress by your head. You place your palm on the side of his neck and he kisses your wrist quickly, groaning against your skin when he comes, ropes of him landing on your wet, clenching pussy. 

His hips twitch in the air as he coaxes out the final drops, letting himself rub his head against your sensitive clit, leaving his cum there even as your body twitches and jumps in protest. 

Your hand keeps rubbing the side of his neck without you even thinking about it, drifting up to scratch at the back of his head when he falls into you, his face pressed into the skin between your tits. You feel a little numb all over, apart from the space when his warm breath is leaving your skin hot and wet. 

Eddie kisses the inside of your breasts quickly, making to pull away but you’re grabbing him, wrapping your arms under his and around his torso. 

“No, don’t go!” You cry, the thought of the cold air he’s about to let touch your skin making you shiver. The fear that he’ll laugh at you hits with intensity, but you only hear his harsh breaths mingling with yours. 

“’m not going anywhere,” he assures you, kissing your chest again. “Just gonna get something to clean you up, then I’ll be right back, okay?” He nods, guiding you to nod too, loosening your arms a little. “Okay,” he breathes, pulling himself slowly from you. 

You stare at the ceiling when he’s gone, legs left open like you’re keeping the space for him. 

Your thighs shake when you feel a wet cloth, gentle and just cold enough to soothe your hot cunt. Eddie cleans around your thighs, which have been wet with you own slick the whole evening. His touch leaves you for a minute, then he’s back with a cool glass, hand on the back of your head, tipping water into your pliant mouth. Then, he’s pulling your boneless body up to sit and dragging a new t-shirt over your torso. The smell of him, smoke and masculine aftershave, embraces you, letting your already fuzzy brain float a little further away from any impending anxiety. 

You feel the bed shift and creak, then he pulls you up the bed away from the wet patch you’ve left on the sheets, settling you against his chest as he leans upright against his pillows. 

You drift a little at the feeling of his hand on your upper arm, gently stroking. Your eyes close, you don’t know for how long, maybe seconds, maybe minutes, but Eddie’s still there with a gentle caress.

You stare at the dark hair on his chest, trying to enjoy the afterglow even as shame starts to build in your chest. Your brain is already mocking you, for all the things you just said, all the things you let him coax from you. 

And he knows.

"If you want, the fur ball can come live here."

You blink, not following at all, and you’re not sure if it’s the weed from earlier or Eddie himself that’s caused it. "What?"

"Yeah, Wayne wouldn't mind as long as he doesn't have to be the one to feed him," he says, looking like he’s thinking it through even as he speaks, and you remember he saw you with the cat.

“You mean you’d look after Banjo?” You ask without thinking, still staring at his chest, not even realising you just told him you went as far as giving the street cat you feed every day its very own silly pet name. 

He keeps stroking the top of your arm. “Yeah, he could terrorise the birds in the woods to his fluffy little heart’s content.” Eddie’s fingers move, up and down, up and down. "And you could come visit him, I don't know, every day maybe." 

Your breath is unsteady. Slowly, you let yourself rest your arm over his torso, almost hugging him. 

"I think he would like that."

[steve-thehair-mamabear]

I love how we have collectively decided that Steve is, without a doubt, the Steddie bottom.

The power of queer hive mind.

[slasherbaby]

Different - Eddie Munson x trans male reader

read below the cut or on AO3

length: 2037 words

rating: explicit

warnings: mentions of prev bad sex, very mild hurt/comfort, words like dick, slit, & hole used to describe the reader’s junk

“Sweetheart,” Eddie leans forward, pressing his chest to your back and nuzzling his nose into the back of your neck. “Feeling alright?”

“Course I am.” You reply without giving it a second thought, to which he gives your neck a little kiss.

“I know you too well for that.” He murmurs, stroking your waist affectionately. “You don’t need to lie for my sake.”

You let out a soft groan as Eddie’s thrusts grew faster. Letting your chest fall to the mattress, you kept your arms folded under your jaw, resting your chin on your wrist. The push and pull of him inside of you was giving you a little pleasure, but nothing close to what sex was usually like between you to.

As much as it irritates you to think about, you’re used to bad sex. In high school you didn’t think twice about letting idiot seniors use you to get off. As long as they took you on a date or for a drive, you didn’t mind it. Mediocre sex in exchange for company never actually left you feeling better off, though. The only thing it really did was make you wish you didn’t bother getting all dressed up to go out. 

You stopped messing around like that a few months after you moved to Hawkins, meeting Eddie and instantly crushing on him. A year out of high school and a week since you finally got the courage to tell Eddie how you felt about him, you’ve started to feel better about sex. Sure, you could count the number of times you two have fucked on one hand, but you hadn’t faked a moan once in the past week, or wished that your partner would just hurry up and cum already.

But something felt different this time. Just a little bit off. Perhaps it was from the lack of effort on your part, a fact you were quick to acknowledge. You spent the entire day in a haze, moving through the usual motions without feeling much at all. Working a shift at the video store, picking up and unpacking the groceries at your house, and laying in bed before it was a decent time to head over to Eddies.

You initiated it, though the way you went about it was different from the past two times. You stripped while he was grabbing something from the kitchen, surprising him on your hands and knees with your ass in the air, before asking him to fuck you.

Eddie’s hips come to a halt, pulling you from your thoughts. You look back at him in confusion, frowning when you see his furrowed brow. His face relaxes in a forceful way once you meet his eyes, and he rubs his hand over the small of your back before pulling out. 

Wincing at the sudden emptiness, you push yourself up until you’re off your hands and just on your knees. His arms wrap around your waist instantly, keeping you close to him.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie leans forward, pressing his chest to your back and nuzzling his nose into the back of your neck. “Are we feeling alright?”

“Of course.” You reply without giving it a second thought, to which he gives your neck a little kiss.

“I know you too well for that.” He murmurs, stroking your waist affectionately. “You don’t need to lie for my sake.”

You shrug, ignoring the frog in your throat. It’s stupid, you tell yourself, to be getting choked up over common decency. Eddie’s not a piece of shit, and depsite his ‘fuck the world’ attitude, he’s one of the sweetest guy’s you’ve ever met.

“You know I won’t be mad if you want to stop, right?” His words are so soft, you have to believe them.

But you don’t wanna stop, you like him touching you. If you asked him, you know he’d be more than down to just cuddle. He’s spent hours holding you before, talking about D&D or his band, distracting you from the worries on your mind. But you don’t want to stop this- cuddling isn’t the type of closeness you crave right now.

Maybe you weren’t feeling horny when you propositioned him, but you did want to have sex. You like feeling close to him, knowing that it’s you he’s getting pleasure from. So you shake your head.

“I don’t wanna stop.”

“Alrighty.” He leaves a gentle kiss underneath your ear before putting his hand on your back, applying enough pressure to let you know he wants you back in the same position. 

You follow easily, and are rewarded by Eddie’s calloused fingertips tracing down your spine, making your back arch into his touch reflexively. His hands come to curl around your waist once more, and he lets out an appreciative groan as he squeezes the rolls he finds.

“Have I ever told you how hot you are?” He squeezes you tight before flipping you over with a frankly surprising burst of strength. Now on your back, you squeak in a very dignified manner before laughing.

“Hey.” He smiles down at you with his head tilted to the side, and his eyes all doe-like and sweet. It makes your heart flutter in a way you’ve never felt before, and something good twinges in your stomach.

“Hey yourself.”

With one arm to prop himself up, Eddie lowers himself down above you. His free hand dips from your waist, trailing down your stomach, and only stops when he reaches your mound. Without hesitation, Eddie presses two of his fingers just to the left of your dick, beginning to massage gentle circles.

It’s not right where you need it, but you can’t help but want to reward him for his efforts. You let out a tiny moan, something high, with a perfect pitch.

Judging from the look on his face, Eddie doesn’t buy it for a second.

With his other hand, he takes yours and brings it down, guiding it to his wrist. 

“Show me what you need.” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Show me how to make you feel good.”

You swallow the lump in your throat before guiding his hand to a more favorable position. When he begins to rub against your sweet spot, you breathe out a puff of happy air.

“Yeah?” He breathes, staring down at your face with wide eyes, taking in every twitch of your facial muscles. “Right there?”

You groan, face heating up from the way he’s making you feel. You turn your head to the side, trying to hide in the pillow as he pleasures you. Earlier you got a little wet, but it was nothing compared to this.

“I can tie a cherry-stem with my tongue.” Eddie brushes his lips against your ear. “Wanna see?”

You turn your head back quickly, eyes wide. Eddie only chuckles, leaving a scalding kiss on your throat before moving down your body.

“Or maybe my sweetheart doesn’t need to see.” He’s between your thighs now, hiking your knees up and tossing them over his shoulders. “He wants to feel it, right?”

Eddie’s tongue feels extraordinarily soft against your folds, lapping at you lazily as he stares up at you, his eyes half-lidded. You don’t know which is more sultry, the look on his face or the way he’s moving his tongue. When he spreads you open with his thumbs and presses his tongue to your slit, you groan, fingernails digging into the mattress below

“Tastes so sweet.” He moans as he pulls back, and you huff in response. Eddie’s head moves back down, but instead of the delicious warmth from before, you feel a nip at your inner thigh.

A noise of irritation bubbles in your throat as you look down at him, but he only smiles up at you before going back to sucking a hickey onto your skin.

“Eddie.” You moan after a few minutes pass by, with him perfectly content on decorating your thighs with bruises.

“Hmm?” He hums, tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy dog. “What’s up?”

“Eddie. C’mon…”

He waits a few moments for you to finish your request, but you can’t find the nerve to do it. It’s harder to ask for things when you’re spread open for him, already feeling vulnerable beneath him.

“If you want something, you’re going to have to do me a favor.” 

It’s your turn to tilt your head, raising an eyebrow down at his smirk. His classic ‘up to no good’ face.

“You’re going to use your words for me.” Eddie has the audacity to laugh when you groan, covering your face with your hands to hide your look of mortification. “If you don’t tell me how you want it, I can’t give it to you.”

“You’re a sadist.”

“Guilty as charged.” Eddie sends a shit-eating grin your way, and you can’t help but crack a smile in return. “Now, how can I be of service?”

“I…” You begin, your throat suddenly incredibly dry. “I want…” Cutting yourself off with another groan, you squeeze your eyes shut, unwilling to look at him while asking. “Go down on me.” You manage, your syllables running together into one long word instead of a sentence.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite get that. Would my liege mind repeating his request?”

You whimper, torn between wanting to curse him and needing his tongue back against you.

“Eds, please. I need you.”

“How?” Eddie’s question sounds more like a demand, his voice taking on a darker quality.

You pull your hands away from your face and look down. It’s nearly hard to meet his gaze with the intensity in his eyes, and the way he’s looking at you makes you shiver. Even though you were the one telling him what to do, he still gave the aura of being in complete control.

“Your mouth.”

“Gonna need more than that, sweetheart.”

“I… I need your mouth on me.” You wince, embarrassed by the way your voice trembled. He raised a single brow, his wet lips arched into a smirk, and you can’t help but weave one of your hands into his curls. “Please eat me out, Eds.”

Your words must be enough because just as suddenly as he stopped, he’s leaning back down to lap at your core. 

“Fuck.” You moan as he suctions his lips around your engorged dick, and buck your hips as he twirls his tongue against it. 

He pulls back, but keeps his mouth close enough to you that you don’t worry he’ll stop.

“You can pull my hair, you know.”

As Eddie returns his attention to you, you give his hair a gentle tug.

“Do you like that?” You ask, just a touch breathlessly.

He nods against you, moaning softly and making your hips twitch up to meet the delicious vibrations. 

Eddie explores you completely with his tongue, eating you out like a starving man at a buffet. It’s almost too much, how quickly you build up to reach your climax, that you find yourself pushing at his shoulder to stave off what might be over in five minutes.

“T-Touch yourself. While you eat me out, I want you to touch yourself.” You swallow back your nerves. “Please, you sound so good when you moan.”

His eyes are completely glazed over as he lifts his hips up a bit, just enough to sneak his hand down to his cock, and starts fucking down into it without hesitation.

You stare down at him in awe, watching as his brow furrows together, his breath coming out in shallow pants as you both climb closer to the edge. His mouth is back on you immediately, messing up your plans on staving off your orgasm by flicking his tongue just right. 

With your eyes rolled back, and your mouth hung open, you ride out your orgasm against his mouth. He doesn’t stop after you finish, lapping at you desperately even as the other over stimulation makes you yank at his hair.

“So much,” You rasp out, giving his hair a particularly hard pull.

He comes with a whimper, tongue buried inside your hole, his dark eyelashes fluttering prettily. You watch as his hips move a few more times before stopping, and he moves his head up to rest on your stomach.

Eddie whines when you touch his hair, petting the top of his curls as he nuzzles against your skin. 

“Thank you,” He murmurs, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Thank you, pretty boy.” You give his hair another gentle tug, but smooth it out when he gasps. “Thank you.”

[my2amgaythoughts]

Thinking about Steve assuming he's a dominant person and a top because that's what he's always been with the girls he's dated.

Steve bottoming for the first time with Eddie and almost immediately being sent into subspace. He starts crying when Eddie gets concerned by his silence and stops everything to make sure he's okay.

Eddie not having any experience and not knowing what aftercare is, but taking Steve into his arms and wiping his tears and telling him he's perfect and everything is okay and he's here and slowly coaxing Steve back to reality.

[blushweddinggowns]

service top eddie, service top eddie, service top eddie, Service Top Eddie, Service Top Eddie, SERVICE TOP EDDIE.

a PSA paid for by Steve 'Pillow Princess' Harrington.

[therealmilfdennys]

SFW and NSFW headcanons for the ST boys I write for lol

I want! To do one of these for everyone I write for but this is fresh on my mind so it's first lol. Eddie, Billy, and Steve are included. I wanted to post this before some of my asks so you know what you're getting lol. Anyway! CW: Feminization, trauma mention, nightmares, scars, and season 3 spoilers, cockwarming, crying, panty stealing, exhibitionism sort of, billy's mommy issues, more crying, let men bottom. Written with top!reader in mind, mostly gender-neutral but AFAB based (I write what I know) if there's more Please let me know.

Steve Harrington SFW 

He hates being alone in that big house, so hes either holding you hostage or he’s always at yours. 

Says he HATES spending time with the kids but is the first to defend them in any situation, even if You have something negative to say about them.

I think the whole ‘six nuggets’ speech was WAY out of character but like, I think Steve deserves ONE baby as a treat. Or maybe he’s the honorary uncle to one of Nancy’s kids lol. He’d be a sick ass uncle.

He Does in fact love PDA, he’s a touchy feely guy (post season one, at least Genuinely) 

His love language is physical touch(receiving) and gift giving(giving). HIs parents were always trying to ‘make up’ for not being there with gifts (the BMW was from the Florence trip, two whole months by himself with little to no contact.)

He really likes movie dates, be it renting a tape and staying at his or yours OR going out and catching one at the theater. He got weirdly into film after working at Family Video.

His favorite candy is anything banana flavored (laffy taffy is the top spot).

He likes pepsi over coke and Is pretentious about it. 

I ama  firm believer that he has a full skin/hair/night/morning routine that he is ADAMANT about. HE has a toiletry bag bigger than his overnight bag that he carries his “essentials” in if he stays over at yours/Eddie’s. 

Speaking of Eddie they got weirdly close after the whole Vecna thing so if you’re dating Steve congrats you have a a new bestie :) Eddie will offer you joints you do Not have to accept. 

Steve is a fan of thicker people I’m sorry I dont make the rules. They all are but Speficially Steve and Billy lol. 

He gets really bad nightmares about the demogorgons sometimes, sleeps with the bat next to him most nights. “Just in case, babe. Can’t be too careful.”  

Was a bug kid, and WAS friends with Eddie in elementary school I will die on this hill. They used to make bug palaces on the playground someone please ask e about this for the love of fuc-

HIs favorite book is The Outsiders :) He doesn’t and didn’t read a lot but that is one of the few books that can grab his attention and keep it. Got very excited when the movie came out and it is one of his favorites :)

First guy crush was Rob Lowe he “Just thought he was badass.” uhhh okay Stevie we get it.

Boyfriend Material to a fucking T. You need someone to help grocery shop? He’s there. Help move furniture? He’s there? Sad? He’s there and he’s making stupid jokes and calling you pretty and kissing your eyelids. 

He lets you wear his clothes and encourages it. Will have a fashion show with your clothes to make you feel better about it if you’re insecure. 

NSFW

Firmly believe there isn’t a mean bone in this mans body. He couldn’t bully you into submission if he wanted to he’d feel too bad.

He’s a simp to the bone. All you have to do is put on the puppy eyes and the “Please Stevie?” And he melts.

I’d call him the pussy eating king but Eddie Munson holds that title so Steve is the Pussy Eating Prince? 

I don’t think he’s a dom by any means, but I DO think he’d be a service top. 

“Baby cum for me please? Wanna feel it. Need to see you cum, look so pretty when you do.” and “So fuckin’ tight, so wet and pretty and perfect. Doin’ so good for me.”

Praise!! Kink!!! Both giving and receiving! Pull on his hair and call him a good boy and he’ll whimper so pretty. 

Big Dick. I don’t remember where I read the headcanon that Steve has a huge dick but i fuckin ran with it so now he does :). Its pretty too. 

He likes slow and sleepy sex over anything else. The sex where you guys are like, trying to fuck but end up just cuddling and kinda grinding against eachother? *chef’s kiss*

Big fan of cockwarming :) sometimes he’s just so needy and you’re busy with work stuff, or college stuff or you’re just reading and he’s all 

“Can I please just put it in? Don’t even have to move, jus’ wanna be close baby.” 

He’s shit at dirty talk but he tries okay?

“Steve we talked about the shitty porn dialouge baby.” “Yeah, yeah sorry.” 

BIg fan of giggling during sex? He just thinks you’re so pretty and he gets these big goofy smiles that are all teeth and yeah. 

When he cums he’s loud as fuck. He’s vocal in general but he gets LOUD when he’s close. He whines and whimpers and huffs out these little moans. HIs tummy gets all tense and his hips jerk and he’s trying so hard not to cry out and beg. 

“Gun’ cum baby, please? Guna’cum for’ya please.” 

Tears up if its really good or if you edged him lol. 

All in All a nice guy to fuck and Date i wont him. 

Eddie Munson SFW :)

Will make you a mixtape way before you start dating and if you listen hard enough that was his original confession. 

He likes to make NPC's in his campaigns based off of you :) whether they be random passerby or main baddies. 

Doesnt matter what shape, size, gender, ethnicity, race anything. If Eddie falls for you? He's All In. He loves HARD and he doesnt give a shit about consequences. 

His queer awakening was Slash lol

Probably autistic, but its the 80's and its rural Indiana so. No Outlet for that. 

His best friend is 100% Dustin they hang out regularly. He's trying (slowly hut surely) to teach Dustin some guitar stuff. 

Eddies idea of a date is driving out to empty fields in the van with some burgers and a joint or two and stargazing. He knows a lot about astrology and definitely shows off his knowledge. 

He's a cuddle bug. Leeches your warmth in the winter and sticks to your sweaty skin during the summer. If he's not sleeping flush against you hes whiney as fuck. 

He likes to wrap his arms around you from the back when you guys are just standin' places. He's a lil lanky so he just kinda curls himself around you, no matter if you're taller or shorter than him. 

he likes to call you "your majesty" a lot, and not in a condescending way. 

"you're royalty babydoll, should be treated that way" hands you a rock he thought you'd like.

hes very much the 'crow friend' if you've seen those tiktoks?

keeps a box of shiny stuff, fancy rocks, funky sticks, jars, and weird shit he found that he likes to show you sometimes and give you if he thinks you'll like it. 

very sensitive to rejection, has attachment issues. 

his parents left when they realized he was getting caught too often doing illegal shit for them so they dipped and he took it to heart. 

still convinced Wayne thinks he's a burden

please kiss his cheeks and play with his hair and call him pretty he blushes so nice. 

he gets freckles during the summer and a REALLY nice tan if hes out enough. 

never learned how to swim correctly, is self taught. 

used to chew on his hair and still does if he's Very upset or close to a meltdown. 

NSFW

umm bottom lol sorry

or a pushover service top

i cannot see him as a massive sadist it doesnt fit im sorry

likes to dress up sometimes :) likes feeling pretty and dainty 

he just hangs around naked sometimes? he seems the type to me?

PUSSY!! EATING!! KING!! 

eats pussy for HIS pleasure and will go till he gets lockjaw and THEN some. 

the one on this list who Knows how to make AFABs squirt. and is PROUD of it. 

is actually very shy? knows people dont like him usually and is worried its a prank. 

wants his ass ate sorry not sorry it had to be said. he thinks it would feel fucking amazing and he deserves it. 

he LOVES being ridden, titties bouncin' in his face, tummy jigglin' for him to grab onto. he fuckin ADORES it. 

hes GRABBY. he grabs at your ass, hips, thighs, stomach, shoulders. Anything He Can. he just gets so needy 

he begs so pretty. loves being overstimulated and gets shakey after his first orgasm but wont stop you till hes cumming dry. 

"cm-cmon..can…i can c-cum again bab-baby i can. puh-puh-promise i can." 

LOVES when you baby talk him but like, in a condescending way? 

"oh sweet thing :( just gotta cum so bad huh? couldnt wait could you, just had to act like a needy slut, yeah?" "mhm, mhm, needy..needed it, so bad. so bad." 

drools lol hes like A Dog. his legs get shakey and his head rolls and he grins like a maniac and theres spit dripping down his chin and im <3

loves to finger you, anywhere, really. and loves when you just shove a hand down his pants and jack him off. 

the kinda guy who would refer to your pussy as "his girl" 

He’s a fuckin perv. Steals your undies and has a stash of them for ‘safe keeping’. Porn mags out the ass. Normal ole teenage boy stuff lol. 

he'd let you use his dick as a stim toy /hj

Billy Hargrove SFW

Boy is an ASSHOLE okay? lives to bully and tease you at first (and even after you're dating but then its affectionate) 

He has a lot of resentment towards positive female/female presenting roles in his life because of his mom i think? and he REALLY has to work on that shit, and if you have the heart to help him with that you're a saint. 

I think the best approach would be to help him from outside. Let him do some introspective shit and just kinda. Guide him. 

Okay so he knows hes a dick, hes trying to get better this is prime, please ask HIM out time. 

He will get so incredibly flustered if you ask him out on a date or something he wont know what to do. 

Hes used to being the flashy one. The Stud. the Untouchable. A Lot of internalzed homophobia in this bad boy. Toxic Masculinity ftw

After the Mindflayer he is a Lot different and i really want to write my specific headcanons and ideas on how he survived/what happened after lol

Hes more subdued, he's quiter, he doesnt lash out as much. He's still, ragey, obviously but its toned down a lot. 

He's not quite as outgoing either, which Max helps a lot with. They get close. 

You and him get closer too. 

I think you guys start as FWB and escalate from there because what ELSE would happen with Billy Hargrove. 

Uhhh he secretly likes rom coms sorry not sorry. 

He LOVES sixteen candles its one of his favorites. 

his queer awakening was :) tom cruise in top gun, that basic bitch. 

he likes when you call him baby/baby boy a LOT. 

he gets FRECKLED in the summer. He tans so pretty and he gets a nice little flush/sunburn on his cheeks and ears that makes him glow. He really thrives in the summer. 

City Boy. Has never seen a cow irl until Hawkins and is terrified of them, please show him they are gentle giants. 

He likes to go to drive ins (and make out) for dates before the mindflayer. He still likes to do that AFTER the mindflayer but hes much more a homebody now so he really likes napping together. 

calls you bitch but affectionately. 

is an AVID reader actually? i love the headcanon that Billy is Wicked smart so i like to think he reads alot. 

he likes period romances (jane austen is his GIRL)

he thinks cooking together is the height of domesticity and at first it freaked him tf out how much he liked doing it with you. now he eases into so quickly its a little funny. 

feral mountain lion turned a little less feral house cat energy.

likes when you call him Bills :)

Likes to walk with his hand in your back pocket and yours in his. 

NSFW

So at first, he's hyper-dominant. Won't let you even Ride him. He's in his head about it 100% he doesnt want you to think he's weak. Men dont take it like that. 

He soon learns you VERY much like it when he's crying for you  

Hes a power bottom i wont take arguments. 

He's also a fuckin BRAT. Needs you to put him in his place but Gently. Needs a firm hand but do Not raise your voice at him or he shuts down. 

It takes a while before he trusts you enough to let you see this side of him and you need to respect that. He will come to you when he's ready. 

He knows hes pretty and he uses it against you. Flutters his eyelashes and smiles all pretty and puffs his chest out. Lays himself out to make himself real pretty. 

Praise tf out of him please he'll cry. 

"Oh pretty baby, you're doin' so good :) such a perfect boy for me. feel so good in me handsome." He's tearing up and nodding so hard. 

"Yeah. Yeah m'good. M'good boy. Doin' good." Under his breath with his eyes squeezed shut, white knuckling the sheets. 

Needs a lot of reassurance that you're feeling good. He spent a lot of time not really giving a shit if the girls he was with got off so with you? He's constantly. "Is that right? That feel good? Want more?" He wants to be perfect for you. 

Sometimes, after the nightmares are getting worse and he's so sleep-deprived he's cross eyed and he can't really think he needs you to take him apart and he goes so willingly.

He gets whimpery and almost immediately oversensitive. Like his cock is a livewire. His fingers and lips tremble and he's trying so hard to keep his eyes on you, to be a good boy. He goes pliant and soft and gets this silly little smile on his face. Eyes hazy and wet. He hums and nods and lets you do whatever. He knows he's safe. 

The scars ARE sensitive lol you heard it here folks. 

He doesnt fuck you with the lights on or fully naked for almost a year after he's fully healed. 

He rubs vitamin E oil and scar softner into the skin where he was attacked twice a day, every day, for a year before you get to see them. 

He breaks down when you call them pretty :) 

And you BETTER think he's still handsome or i'll find you istg /hj

Uhh, this may be a personal want of mine or a real headcanon but I think he would like to try makeup? Like a full glam rock, smokey eye red lip whole shebang. 

Fuck him so good his mascara runs. 

Prolly has a mommy kink but i’m not brave enough to write that (unless…)/hj

[two-red-lungs]

Magic Fingers

(Eddie x Fem!Reader Smutfic)

Contents: Smut (obviously), fingering, overstimulation, service-top Eddie, squirting, dirty-talk (he’d be so good at it I just know it)

Word Count: 1k

Song Inspiration: X

“Cmon, c’mon. Fuck. Fuck, princess, lookin’ so pretty for me, jesus christ.” Eddie was rambling in that low, sex-hoarse voice of his, lips inches from your ear. His hot breath ghosted over your blood-flushed cheek.

His fingers- those goddamn fingers, so long and veiny and strong, with perfect short and rounded nails- squelched wetly inside you. In and out, jackhammer fast. His bracelet rattled against the button on his jacket sleeve from his manic pace. He was going up to the last knuckle each time, digging deep inside you. Hitting you in all the right places.

You could feel it, the way your slick wetness was soaking his hand, dribbling down his broad calloused palm. How it was slicking up the inside of your thighs and puddling down on his stained sheets. Yeah, you could feel it, but you couldn’t think about it: the wall of pleasure he was demandingly stirring up inside your gummy pink walls was brain-blanking. Absolutely mind-wiping. 

Those guitar callouses wiped away every lucid thought, every strung-together sentence. Reducing your existence to just Eddie. Eddie, breathing elevated from arousal, sitting behind you, propping your weight up against his chest. Holding your shaking, sweaty legs open with his own, locking them in place. Digging his fingers into your sopping cunt like it owed him money. 

And he fucking talked the whole time, too, like it was a goddamn sporting event. Like watching his veiny digits disappearing into your messy wet heat was the best thing he’d ever experienced. 

“Mm, feels good, huh princess? Yeah, I can tell. I can tell.” Eddie groaned in your ear. Pulling his fingers out to lovingly slap at your wet folds a few times before shoving them back in and curling. “Yeah, yeah, make those pretty noises. Fuck. Fuck. So fucking wet, hmm, for me?”

“Yeah.” Was all you could whine out. Your stomach muscles spasmed when his thumb bumped against your clit, nudging the sensitive, swollen bud. He laughed breathily at your reaction, almost teasingly. 

Jesus, jesus, he was relentless. Only stopping his maniacal, sloppy fingering to run all his fingers up and down your pussy affectionally, or to rub tight circles around your clit and drink up the way your breathing hitched. And then he was right back to it. 

“How many times have you cum on these fingers, huh, princess? These fingers you love so much? Twice, already? Or was it three?” When you didn’t respond, he pressed a messy and wet kiss to your neck, with just enough teeth to make you gasp. “I’m gonna need an answer. Come on. Use your words. I know you’ve got a brain rattling around in there somewhere.”

“Fuuuuuu- three, it was three, Eddie- S’too much, holy shit, god!”

“Nah.” You could hear the smile in his voice. He used his free hand to grab at the meat of your inner thigh, dragging your legs open when they threatened to sag closed. Shoving his bundle of fingers back into your relaxed, drooling pussy. “You can take it, can’t you, big girl? I know you can take it.” His fingers sped up, strokes less even, more intense and demanding. “Take it. Take it, princess, fuck, you’re soaked. You love it. Love my fingers so much. Love what I do to you. How I take you apart, shit.”

It was so much. A tsunami of sensation, pleasure like molten metal, running up your chest and down your legs. It was making you feel stupid. “Fuck, Eddie, Eddie, I- I...”

He groaned into your hair when he felt you tightening up around his clever fingers. “Yes, fuck, princess, that’s what I fucking live for. You gonna cum again? Gonna cum with my fingers inside you, like a good little girl?”

“Shit, shit-”

“I want it. Come on, cum, cum, you sweet silly little slut, cum on my fingers, I want it, I want it-”

Your orgasm hit you like a fucking freight train. You vision blackened, eyes rolling into the back of your head: you were barely aware of Eddie groaning gutterally, laughing disbelievingly as he continued to brutally fingerfuck you. 

“Shhhhhit. Oh my god.” He was humming out, mouth against your head. 

It was only when you came back to yourself, legs falling open against his and hair sticking to your sweaty face, that you realized the sheets in front of you were soaked. Eddie’s forearm, still curled down over your torso with a warm hand cupping your cunt, was sprayed dark with wetness. 

You'd squirted. Oh my god, he’d made you squirt. Fucking epically, apparently: it looked like a made-up scene from a porno. 

“...I didn’t know you could do that.” He sounded awed, voice hot against the shell of your ear. 

“Neither did I.” You replied weakly. Your voice wobbled with exhaustion. 

Eddie’s bedroom was quiet for a moment as you caught your breath. God, your whole body was throbbing with your heartbeat, and the insides of your elbows and knees were dripping with sweat. It was all you could do to just sit upright, against Eddie’s broad torso, feeling his heat bleed into yours. 

“That was so fucking cool, baby.” Eddie was murmuring his approval, the hand not cupping your clenching cunt running up and down your thigh. His metal rings were warm on your skin.  “That was... god. Fuck.” He ground his jean-clad pelvis against the soft meat of your back, painfully and obviously hard. “That was so hot.”

You were opening your mouth to response, and the words caught in your throat. Choking you, when Eddie’s slick-soaked fingers cupping your abused folds started to move again; tracing up and down. His index finger slowly breached you, centimeter by centimeter. 

“Eddie... I can’t, I can’t-” You protested weakly, pushing back against his chest and thumping your fist against his thigh. 

“Shhh. Hey. I got you, baby.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your head. The hand stroking your thigh tightened to a grip. “I got you. I just wanna see you get my sheets wet again. Just one more time. You can do one more.” When he started fucking your loose heat with his finger, you whined pathetically. He talked over it soothingly. “You can do it. You can do it, I promise. Just relax. Let me put some pretty fingers in that perfect pussy.”

“...Okay, I’m... Okay. Okay.” You hiccuped out, conceding. 

Another kiss on the back of your head. “That’s my girl.”

[shmeddieshmunson]

The Routine

Eddie Munson x Transmasc!Reader, 18+, cute but then smut, smoking, drinking, making out, fingering, Eddie x You +"good boy"

Smut one-shot ~3k words, minors do not interact

Knock knock knock-knock-knock! You drummed rhythmically on the door with your knuckles.

You scanned the edge of the pool of yellow light that washed over you and the front porch of Eddie’s trailer. Moths and mosquitos flitted around. The park was calm, but you could hear the muffled sound of music and voices from neighboring trailers. Could see vague movement in some of the lit windows behind the curtains.

The warm summer breeze carried away the smoke from the cigarette that hung between your lips, and you could hear the crickets, cicadas, and frogs.

Knock knock! You heard from the other side of the door before it swung open. You whip your head forwards again and come to attention.

“What do you want, punk?” Eddie spits, locking his hip and obscuring the doorway, his voice almost sing-songy with his faux toughness. He’s backlit by the warm lights inside, face highlighted yellow with dramatic shadows. You grin and pull the cigarette from your lips, but he plucks it from your hands and takes a drag before you can even lower your arm fully.

Slightly slack jawed and awkward, you just kind of freeze there in awe, and he cocks an eyebrow at you. “Well??” he demands, his mouth starting to curve upwards. 

“I uh…” you clear your throat, “I’m here to see a guy… about a thing...” There’s a brief pause that feels longer than it is as he exhales the smoke in his mouth. “C’mere–” you lean forward quickly and hook your finger into one of his belt loops, and stuff the other into his hair, pulling him into you for a hard kiss. He laughs into your mouth, finally cracking and relaxing, leaning the front of his body into yours.

“That was really the best you could come up with?” He teases you as he takes a step back, "A guy about a thing?" He moves quickly like he’s going to punch you in the gut, “uhn!” he exclaims playfully, his fist stopping jerkily before it connects, and recoiling. Then he’s grabbing your hand and pulling you indoors with him. 

“Look, I came here to smoke and to make out, not to start writing our comedy show,” you quip back sarcastically.

He walks across the room and into the kitchen and pulls open the fridge door, tongue absentmindedly sticking out between his smiling teeth. 

The trailer already has a smoky haze to it, and you plop down on the worn but comfortable brown couch, beginning the routine you two have developed together over the months. You reach into your jacket’s chest pocket and pull out a small hand painted tin, which you lovingly refer to as your Go Pack. Eddie had gifted it to you for your last birthday, and intricately decorated it with snakes and dice, as well as your initials. 

You run your thumb over the slightly raised design, then pop it open and pull out the spliff that you already have rolled for the two of you. Eddie walks over to the couch with two beer bottles clinking together in one of his hands, and an ashtray in the other. You look up at him and there is a flicker in both of your eyes as they meet, and you flash him a brilliant smile. He sets everything on the small coffee table.

“Care to do the honors?” You ask, head tilted up, looking at him. You motion the spliff and lighter you’re holding towards him.

“Ooo, don’t mind if I do,” he takes them and bounces himself down on the couch, thigh pressed up against yours. The lighter flicks to life and lights up his face as he settles into your side and you rest your arm on the back of the couch behind him. His cheeks hollow around the joint as he sucks in to spark it, and you’re taking in all the details of his soft and angular face. 

He looks at you and raises his eyebrows slightly before billowing a puff of smoke between you. You laugh lightly through your nose, and take the joint from him, your fingers brushing his on the filter. 

It’s his turn to stare as you inhale, but you pretend you don’t notice.

“You always look so hot when you smoke,” he says with a lowered voice, eyes scanning from your lips to your eyes and down again. You let a smug smile creep onto your face and exhale the smoke out of your nose. You take another drag, but instead of passing the spliff you hold it away and lean your face towards Eddie’s. He knows that cue and meets you halfway, parted lips meeting yours as you blow the smoke into his mouth while he inhales, ending it with a flit of your tongue and soft open mouth kiss. You hum into his mouth as he returns the kiss, and holds the smoke for a moment before blowing it out again. “Damn,” he rasps. 

“Yeah, damn,” you rub his shoulder with your thumb and look at him through your eyelashes. Without breaking eye contact you pass the spliff over. The two of you spend several minutes doing this; lazily kissing and admiring each other while you shotgun hits back and forth, and slowly burn the spliff to the filter. You make each other laugh, and cough, and neither of you can keep your hands off of the other. 

That's how it goes.

He pulls away to set the butt of the spliff that went out a minute ago into the ashtray.

“Shall we relocate to the dungeon,” he croaks in a cartoonish voice, and arcs his arm dramatically towards his bedroom. You throw your head back with a laugh, and don’t catch him fawning briefly at your exposed throat.

“Yes please,” you say with a mischievous smile on your face. It was ridiculous how much this boy made you smile. 

You quickly push up off of his shoulder, pinning him to the couch while you get up first. “Hey!” he grunts, and pushes you a little when he catches up a moment later. You both laugh and stumble towards the other room, knocking into each other, racing to get there first. He does, but he steps aside, bows, and sweeps his arm like you’re royalty, letting you pull ahead at the last second. 

“Chivalry isn’t dead,” you coo. As soon as you cross the threshold of his room you start shedding layers, and Eddie clicks the door shut behind you. “My uncle shouldn’t be home until late, but, yanno..” You glance over at him and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Better safe than sorry.” 

He closes the distance between you and grabs the bottom of your shirt, pulling it over your head for you, before pushing you towards the bed. You happily oblige and fall onto his bed, the blanket cool under your back and you close your eyes and take a deep breath, soaking up his smell. You feel as he presses his shins into the edge of the bed with one of your knees between his. When you open your eyes, he’s looking down his nose at you, long hair falling around his face. His energy has shifted away from the playfulness you came into the room with, and when you meet his eyes again, it gives you butterflies.

“Hi,” you say breathily. He kneels one leg between your thighs, and starts leaning over you, planting a hand by your head on his descent towards your face.

“Hi,” he whispers into your mouth, just barely keeping from brushing his lips against yours, and holding your gaze still through his eyelashes. You lean up to connect with his lips, and the movement shifts you down into his knee on accident. Your breath hitches, but it gets lost in the kiss that’s exploding between the two of you. You move your hips on purpose now for a little bit more of that friction and let your eyes flutter shut. He smirks and runs his free hand down your chest, over your stomach, and grabs the waist of your jeans. He pulls and presses, helping you establish a rhythm against his knee and thigh. 

The intensity of your kisses amplifies, and he pushes his tongue into your mouth. He sucks on your top lip, and nibbles at your bottom. His tongue traces your teeth. Your hands are running all over his back, up into his hair, and up and down his chest. Restless and grabby. 

He ruts your hips into him with a particular gusto, and you can’t help but moan. 

“Mmmm, get up on the pillows for me,” he rumbles, and he licks a stripe up the side of your neck before yanking the waist of your pants the direction he wants you to go. 

You make a little sound of agreement, and use your elbows to scooch backwards. He drops his other knee to the bed, and watches you wiggle into a comfortable position while he begins the slow crawl up to you between your legs. Again, his dark and intense gaze sends a ripple through you. You can see the slight bulge in the front of his jeans and it makes you throb a little more in your own pants. 

He kisses a line along the top of your waistband, then slowly starts to kiss a trail upwards. Holding himself above you he kisses your stomach, past your belly button, up to your chest. He veers off center and takes one of your pierced nipples into his mouth. His tongue swirls over it as it hardens and you take up fistfulls of his hair as he sucks on it. You groan and let your head fully relax back, the feeling of his tongue and teeth grazing your sensitive skin and the metal nestled in it zings into your core. 

“Fuck, Eddie,” you whimper as he licks and kisses his way across your chest to torture your other nipple. Sucking on one, and rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger, grunting and groaning when your hands tighten in his hair. You’re already becoming a wet mess for him, and he knows it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t drag it out. 

His hands find their way to the front of your pants again, but this time he pauses. “Baby, I wanna feel you so bad,” he drawls, and you exhale hard at his words. “Can I?” he asks, and you nod vigorously, biting your lower lip a little.

He unbuttons your pants, unzips the fly, and starts pulling down on the waistband of your jeans and underwear simultaneously. You lift your hips into the air to make it easier for him, and he leans down to plant a kiss on your abdomen in response as he slides the rough material down your thighs. When you put your hips down, he sits back on his knees briefly to finish pulling them off of you and then reclaims his spot between your thighs.

Only now, the situation is a bit more intimate. He flashes a rogue smile at you, before zeroing in on the exposed heat between your legs. His rings glint in the light as he brings his hand to you, tracing sporadic shapes beside your lips and across the top of your mound before dancing over your swollen clit. Your eyebrows jam together as you let out a long sigh. You love the feeling of his fingers putting pressure on both sides of your clit, helping it pop out from under the hood even more. He dips his finger into the pool of grool that's gathering at your hole, and draws a string of it away, very obviously enamored, eyes wide. He does it again, but this time, sliding two fingers over your entrance, up your clit, and then bringing them to his mouth to lick off your juices. He moans around his fingers, looking up at you. The hunger that’s burning in his eyes makes you clench. 

“Are you all wet and hot for me? huh,” he murmurs, and drips a glob of spit onto his fingers. He rubs outside of you briefly once more before pushing two of his wet fingers into your cunt and curling them. “Mmmm, yeah, good boyyy,” he groans out, feeling you pulse and drip around his digits. His voice sounds like honey, and he can’t pull his eyes away from your soft skin stretching around his fingers, his rings contorting the skin when he’s deep inside you.

You gasp and swear when his fingers brush up against that rough spot inside you, and you try to keep your hips still with the help of his firm hand pressing down on your abdomen. Then you start babbling pleases and vague begging. Your whines pull him back to this planet, and he looks up at you.

“What is it?” he almost taunts, “you feel good?”

“Yeah, but–” you gasp as he curls his fingers again.

“But what?” He likes making you squirm and struggle, likes making you feel so good you can’t finish your sentences.

“Please, more, I need more,” you look down at him, eyebrows still furrowed, mouth agape, and eyes pleading. 

He laughs lightly and plants a sloppy wet kiss right on your clit, causing you to moan. Flicks his tongue over your tiny erection several times.

“‘More!’ he says,” he teases you, as he pulls his mouth away. But, he doesn’t hesitate to jam a third finger in your wet pussy and pick up the pace. You spew profanities littered with his name, all throaty and loud, your back arching and your hips rutting, but he pushes down from your stomach again, which just makes you flood with more juices. 

The steady rhythm that he’s rocking your body with from the inside out starts to build inside of  you, a deep ache in your guts that makes your legs start to shake.

“God you're such a hot little mess,” he spits between bared teeth. His breath is starting to wrack his body, and his face is scrunched up in lust and focus.

“Ooooo yeah, Eddie, fuck,” you pant, “Eddie you make me feel so good. You– fuck– you make me so wet– nnnn,” your praise and whines are like music to his ears. He doesn’t want you to stop making those sounds, ever.

But he does want to make you squirt.

“Can you take one more, baby?” he asks courteously.  He knows you can, just wants to make sure you want it. You nod your head. “Mmmmm, ask for it then, babe,” he slightly slows his three fingers and focuses on just curling them against your inner walls for a moment.

“Ah! Will you, please–nnnnn….  Please put another in me Eddie, I want you to stretch me out.”

“Ooo hoo hoo, good boy,” he tells you, and he pulls his fingers out of you. You wince at the sudden emptiness. He locks his eyes on your face as he tastes you on his fingers, keeping a steady motion on your clit with his other hand. Then he flattens that hand and speeds up, making you drip and clench and pull your legs together at the shift in feeling. He firmly pushes your legs back apart, and then shoves all four of his fingers into your cunt. You make this animalistic, guttural moan scream as he goes right back into his body shaking rhythm from before. Except now, he’s basically grabbing your whole cunt from the inside, and rocking your hips down into the bed and up towards him, and it’s driving you fucking crazy. 

Very quickly the tension builds inside of you, and before you can even turn your desperate sounds into real words to warn him, your orgasm crashes over you, and a wave of pleasure rolls through your body. You clench and jerk and your pussy floods and gushes around his fingers, the wetness rolling down his wrist and onto his bed.

“Good BOY! YES, ooo, come all over my fingers, baby,” cooing and groaning, and his face is flushed, mouth open in disbelief. “You’re so fucking hot, yes,” he keeps the stream of praise flowing, but you’re barely tracking it over the rush in your ears and the sound of your own heartbeat. He pets your inner walls a few more times before you start flinching at the stimulation, and he slowly slides his hand out of you. He kisses your inner thigh, and bites down. You yell a little in surprise, before giggling back into a pant to catch your breath. 

His fingers and his rings are extra shiny in the light now, dripping every now and then, and he is looking at you with the  biggest shit eating grin on his face.

“Goddamn, godDAMN,” he says with a slap to your thigh, he bites his lip, and then he moves to lay down next to you.  

“What can I do for you? If you give me a minute you can fuck me…” you start as your breathing regulates, his body warm and sweaty against yours.

“Well, funny story…” he says sheepishly, “I’m actually uh, pretty sorted out.”  You look down without even thinking, and sure enough, in place of the tent he had pitched earlier, there is now a wet spot coming through the denim.

“Oh my god…” your voice is soft and almost a laugh. 

He starts to splutter, looking defensive and not finding the words he wants before you cut him off. “No– good oh my god! Like, oh my god that’s so fucking hot that that made you come in your pants,” you grab his face and study him with your bright eyes and amused smile. “Like it’s a little funny, but holy shit, I love it.”

He lets out one laugh and scrunches his nose at you, “Alright, alright, whatever.” He kisses you so you don’t have to keep talking about it. 

“I’m gonna go roll up another joint,”  he declares, pecks you on the lips, and grunts when he stands up. 

You watch him leave the room with an unwavering smile turning up the corners of your mouth, and glassy eyes. After a couple more deep long inhales and exhales, you trail after him.

[eddiesxangel]

Redemption| Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie is forced to work community hours for a petty crime at a retirement home; what he didn’t expect was the pretty girl at the front desk, you. This is so self-indulgent don't come for me

Word count: 3.8k

Cw: mutual pining, male masturbation, Perv!Eddie, Dom!Eddie/ Sub!reader, unprotected sex, corruption kink? breeding kink, sex at work. (Briefly proofread)

An: after 85 years I finally got around to finishing this! It’s not where I thought it would go originally bc it was just suppose to be a fluff piece but the horny gremlin took over

Boredom wasn't even a way to describe how you were feeling. The phones were dead, the day had been dragging on, and it was not even 12:00pm. The residents of the home were also not doing you any favours. Having to repeat yourself about six times in a row at the top of your lungs was starting to get old; your day had just not been going the way you wanted. Any other day, you'd be happy to help, happy to repeat yourself, but today was not one of those days. You were irritated and annoyed; your work bestie was off today, so you couldn't even complain to her about your shit day.

 A sigh of relief fills you when the phone rings, a rare occasion, but today has been so slow you were begging for something to do.

 "Sunny Acres Retirement Home! How may I help you?"  your customer service voice was overly sweet, too sweet. However you can't seem to turn it off, being the people pleaser that you are. 

"Jesus Christ'' You hear mumbled from the other end of the line. 

"Hello? How can I help you?" you roll your eyes, having to repeat yourself, but keep up the chipper act.

 "Yeah, listen, I was assigned to do community hours at this place, and I need to talk to a manager." Damn, this guy had an attitude. 

"Yeah! Sure thing. Can I get your name, please?"

 "Seriously?" 

What the fuck crawled up this guy's ass?

"It's company policy, Sir." You rolled your eyes again, not wanting to deal with more bullshit.

"Eddie"  

"One moment, Eddie, I'll transfer your call." You put him on hold and transferred him to the manager with a good luck warning. 

The next day, you were in much better spirits; your work bestie was with you, it was casual Friday, and you were allowed to wear jeans instead of business casual attire.

It was around 1:00pm when you saw Chief Hopper walk in accompanied by someone you had not recognized. 

"Hey Hopps," you greet him with a smile.

"Hey, you." He said with a smile.

You and Chief Hopper had a friendly relationship because you're close friends with his girlfriend's oldest, Jonathan.  

"To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Brought in another delinquent for you to roughhouse into shape" he steps out of the way.

Your giggle dies as you lock eyes with the prettiest boy you've ever seen. 

"This is Edward; he is here to complete two hundred hours of community service, and he will be starting today."

"It's Eddie," you hear him mumble under his breath. 

Oh so this is the jackass you spoke to on the phone yesterday... a really cute jackass.

He looked to be around your age, but you didn't recognize him. You'd only been in town since the second half of senior year, hating your parents for making your move to a new school so close to graduating. You have been in Hawkins  six years now you're here working 9-5 as a receptionist at Sunny Acres Retirement Home.

"Nice to meet you, Eddie." You introduce yourself and proceed to call the manager to let her know he is here. Once Hopper leaves and your manager shows him around, you immediately call your best friend, Robin's, extension.

"Get over here now! We have a code, hottie," you whisper into the phone. Whenever you see a cute person enter the building, whether it be adult grandchildren, paramedics, or firefighters, you always let one another know when there is one on the premises. No less than two minutes later, she approaches your desk.

"Where are they?"

" There," you point to the dining room directly across from your desk as he is being given a tour of the building.

"Eddie Munson?!" she half yells before covering her mouth. 

"You know him?" you ask excitedly.

"Know him? He's the town freak," she scoffs.

"I'm sure he is a freak, alright?" You wiggle your brows at her." 

"I'm serious! He's bad news." 

"Clearly, he is doing community service hours." 

"Seriously? That is what you're into?" she giggles.

"I don't know? There is something about him?" You bite your lip as you check him out from afar. He turns back to walk towards you, and you quickly look away, not wanting to be caught.

You've always been into bad boys, but your golden retriever, good girl image, always scared them away.

Eddie notices you staring at him because you're not very subtle.  He isn't mad that he caught you staring because he felt that you were checking him out rather than judging him. Unlike your co-worker standing beside you...

Just his luck, he recognized Robin from high school. She was always neutral towards him and didn't say much, but he knew how the people in this town operated. She would turn you against him in no time.

"Buckley." He nodded.

"Munson," she mimicked back.

You watched the scene play out, hoping she would introduce you. Wrong. She goes straight in for the kill.

"My friend thinks you're cute." She points her thumb at you, and you immediately slap her shoulder as a gut reaction.

"Robin?!" you scold her. Mortified about what she admitted to him just to break an awkward silence, you feel like you want the ground to swallow you whole. 

Eddie gives you a cocky smirk before the manager comes back to continue with the tour. 

"Why do you hate me? Did I do something?  Are you punishing me?" you whine. 

"You know I just blurt out things when I get uncomfortable!" 

All you can do is roll your eyes, you loved the girl, but she could be really dense. 

Eddie couldn't stop thinking about your brief interaction all night. Was Robin telling the truth? Did you really think he was cute? Or was she teasing? He hoped that she had grown up since high school and was telling the truth because he also thought you were cute, like really, really cute. He hadn't seen you before, and Hawkins was a small town; he must have known you from somewhere? He wraps his brain around any memories of your face, but he comes up empty. He had to find out more about you. He needed to know you. Something about you infatuated him so much. He thought about how your body looked in the adorable outfit you had on. He thought about what was under the outfit to... Maybe being forced to volunteer his time at Sunny Acres wouldn't be the worst thing that happened to him after all...

The next day, you were assigned to show Eddie some of the duties he was to do for the residents. Talk to them, run bingo, help them with their phone if the line was giving them any trouble, or their TV if they put in the wrong input, serve them beverages, and get to know them and keep them company. A lot of them don't have families or anyone to come visit them. The staff are their family. That was the main reason you stayed at this job for so long. 

Eddie was quiet the whole orientation. The tension from yesterday was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Small talk was not your strong suit; you dreaded it, but you also really wanted to talk with Eddie, so you went for it.

"So what did they book you for? Steal candy from a kid on the playground?" trying to make light of the situation. 

"Murder," he deadpans to you.

"Ha ha. Nice try. They don't give community hours to murderers." you couldn't keep your eyes on the task in front of you.

He was dead silent, but you could feel his eyes burning into you.

"Okay, don't tell me; I'll just keep guessing until you do." you gave a cheeky smile, trying to lighten the mood. 

Another eye roll was shot your way, but you swore you saw a glint of something behind those eyes. 

"So what was it? Trespassing? Vandalism? shoplifting? Public intoxication? Speeding?" you raise a brow at him.

 Eddie just smirked and shook his head as you interrogated him. Your bubbly personality was nothing compared to his. He noticed how you would light up the room when you walked in. The residents of the home adored you, and he could see why. You were one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen; your eyes sparkled, and he loved how you styled yourself. He wasn't used to being so infatuated by someone so cutesy. He noticed you wore a lot of pink and has yet to see you in anything black. He thought of what you would look like with black underwear... then he snapped back out of his thoughts. He tried to think of something less sexy, but as he was trying to do so, your top slipped down when you went to reach for the deck of cards across from you. He caught a glimpse of the frilly light yellow bra you had on under your top.

Eddie noticed the room was getting hotter, or was that just him? You made him nervous; he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of you more than he already has. He felt shame that we had to be waltzed in here by the chief of police, never mind what offence he committed. So he stayed quiet, not wanting the next thing to come out of his mouth to be offensive or crass. So he kept quiet, not saying anything or indulging in the conversation more than he had to.

Another week went by, and you still hardly spoke to Eddie. Work was unbelievably slow yet again. you thought that would give you a chance to speak with Eddie, but you hardly had time to see him because the residents kept hogging him. That was until your manager asked for you to help with the Bingo because everyone decided to show up today. Eddie was in charge of rolling and placing, and you were in charge of announcing and checking.

This was it, this was your chance to speak to him...

"How do you like it here so far?"

"It's fine I guess." He mumbled. 

"Everyone really loves you." You smiled.  

Eddie gave you a look that said what the fuck?

“No really! … Do you not like it here?” What you were really asking was do you not like being around me?

"Don't you get it? How can I serve these snotty rich people when all they do is look down on someone like me?"

"Eddie, are you blind? The residents love you." 

Eddie scoffs at your confession. "I'm serious! When you are gone, Pat always asks where you are! And Linda always refers to you as her boyfriend, and I overheard Martha and June arguing over who got to braid your hair next. You're a real ladies' man around here," You giggle. 

"A ladies man you say?" his mood slowly changes as he smirks at you. That made you blush, the heat rose to your cheeks as you looked away bashfully. He was just so pretty… and the way he looked at you like how he is now is making you so shy.

"Yeah, I'm kinda jealous of Linda, if I'm honest." You flirt. You feel like your stomach was in your ass by the time you finished the sentence.

-

"What's the next number! come on!" Bob yelled from the table. You had completely forgotten about the game.

Small glances were stolen throughout the following weeks.  You would feel the heat rise to your cheeks every time he caught you, and you couldn't tell if he found it endearing or annoying. You never got a response out of Eddie after your admission to being jealous over an eighty-three-year-old.

Eddie definitely thought it was endearing and he can't seem to get you out of his head. He would think about you when he was alone in his room at night. He would think about how you always smelled like marshmallows, how your hair looked so cute with the little bow you put in it occasionally, or how you tease him by wearing those short skirts with stockings underneath. He knew you were teasing him. Everyone else bought the Goodie Two Shoes act, but not Eddie. He saw right through it, and he was fed up. He felt like if he didn't have you, he would actually explode.

Eddie had been watching you from afar this whole time. He would sneak around your desk, finding things he could take home with him as a keepsake. Like little doodles you would leave out, or the pen you were using, or your lip balm. The best was when you left your purse out, and he got a chance to take the travel-size perfume that was lying there on top of everything. There was a reason he got booked for defacing public property and not theft. Theft he was good at.

Eddie sprayed his pillow with your perfume and then used your lip balm that smelled and tasted like strawberries, fuck, everything about you was so sweet: your personality, looks and smell, even your fucking lip balm. He thought about how his lips were touching the thing that touched yours as he applied it to his own, and his dick got hard. Then he thought about how your strawberry lips would look around his hard cock.

You were taking over Eddie's senses as he began to tug at his cock. He thought about how he would love to flip up your skirt and fucking you in one of the empty rooms. His imagination ran wild. He thought about your voice, how your tits would look bouncing in that frilly yellow bra he got a peek at. He wanted you in every position, especially under him. He knew you would be the perfect little sub for him. He needed you to be; he was so close to cumming. He thought about you crying from how much you needed his cock to fill you. He thought about how good you would look and feel swallowing his cock. He needed to take what he thought, no needed to believe, was your virgin pussy.

Eddie came so hard that night, the first night he indulged in his fantasies of you with your smell lingering in the air of his room. The mix of your sent with his was too much. He needed you, and he would do anything to try and get you.

"Ok, I can't take this anymore, you need to talk to him." Robin shook her head. 

"And say what?" 

"Yo Munson, come here!" 

"Robin!" You scolded.  

As Eddie approached, you felt your heart rate go up; you could hear the blood pumping in your ears. What on earth was she going to say now? 

"Okay, I can't take watching you two dance around one another any longer." "She thinks you're cute. Okay..." Robin gestured to you. "Do you think she is cute?"

Eddie didn’t say anything, he just slowly nodded his head.

The tension broke when the shrill of phone ring broke you out of your trance and shook you a little. You just stared at the phone and Robin butted in.

“I’ll take it, you take your lunch” she gave you a wink and you looked to Eddie.

“I could eat.” and he wasn't talking about the chicken they were serving for lunch.

You felt your stomach do a flip-flip; you heard the insinuation in his tone.

"Um, uh- yeah. Okay." You cleared your throat and went to find an empty room for some privacy.

You guided Eddie up to the eighth floor. There were a lot of vacant rooms up there, and hardly anyone went in the west wing since no one was living there yet. The elevator ride up was silent; you felt an awkwardness, like Eddie was looking into your soul even though he wasn't even looking at you... The elevator dinged, and Eddie let you step out first, guiding him to the privacy he yearned for.

809 Eddie read on the door as you fumbled with the lock and key. Finally, you opened the lock and guided him inside. The room was completely empty; it echoed a little as your footsteps filled it.

"So..." You started but Eddie had no time for talking. He wanted you and he wanted you now.

Eddie surprised you by cupping your face and kissing you passionately. No one had ever kissed you like this before; it was strong and hard but also careful.

"You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart." He spoke into your mouth. The kissing got more and more sensual. You ran your hands up his middle before you knew what was happening he quickly turned you around and pressed you up against the wall.

"You think it's cute? Teasing me for weeks with your sweet little outfits?" Eddie's hand was wrapped around your mouth to keep you quiet as his fingers explored you meat of your ass.

"Mmmmmph" You were so scared someone would find you in the empty suite, but it also turned you on more than expected.

"What was that sweetheart? I didn't quite catch that?" His fingers found the waistband of your stockings and pulled them and your panties down with one swift motion. His hand loosened its grip on your jaw so you could speak.

"N-no," You whimpered. This was turning you on way more than it should. You thought you would come up here to talk; maybe he would ask you out on a date. You never thought you would be fucking!

"I don't believe you."

You felt your skirt flipped up and a cool breeze on your wet pussy.

"Tell me, sweetheart, has anyone ever filled this pussy?" Eddie asked as he ran a single finger through your wet folds.

"Yes," You admit shakily. You gripped Eddie's wrist of the hand that was clamped around your throat.

Eddie can't say he was surprised that you’ve had men before him. You were beautiful, smart, funny, adorable. It's too bad you had to be with them before he got a taste.

"What a shame you've had to suffer through that before meeting me, babydoll."

"Why is that?" you ask bravely.

Eddie chuckled darkly... "Because baby, I'm about to ruin you for all men."

That made you gulp. You can't believe you were about to fuck your crush in the middle of the work day. You didn't do stuff like this! you were a good girl, a rule follower.

Before you could think anymore about the consequences, Eddie, he slipped his throbbing cock into your needy pussy.

"Holy fuck!" You screamed, and Eddie's hand clamped back down over your mouth to keep you quiet.

Just when Eddie didn't think you could get any hotter, the curse word you let slip from your mouth made his cock twitch inside of you.

"Fuck me, you stretch me out so good," You whine, and Eddie thinks he will bust a nut right then and there. His perfect little angel had the mouth of a whore.

"Yes, you like that, don't you, you dirty little slut." Eddie jerked his hips up into you. It was sharp and hard and hit that delicious spot inside you each time. “You wanna be my good girl? Or my bad girl?”

“Good- oh fuck- good girl. I want to be your good girl!”

“That shut the fuck up and take it like I know you can”

"oh my god, you're so big." Your eyes rolled back into your head as he became more controlled with his rhythm. His hands gripped your hip, and he wrapped his hand in your hair, yanking your head back like he was riding you.

The view Eddie had was your ass bounced off his cock was making his head spin. He knew you would hand a perfect pussy. It was his now and only his.

"This pussy is mine now, understand? Im going to fill this pussy so good you won't know what to do for days. The only thing you're going to be thinking of is me and my fat cock."

All you could do was moan in response. "Yea you like that you dirty little whore. You like that I own this pussy now…” Eddie slowed down, he rolled his hips slowly into your pussy and he swore he saw the light “You have everyone convinced you're a goodgirl but all you are is a cumslut. Tell me how much you want my cum coating your walls"

"I want it so bad!" you cried.

You've never had a dick like this before. Eddie was right, he's ruined you for all men and he hadn't even made you cum... yet. You had full faith that he was able to do so because you could feel it. The warm fuzzy feeling was bubbling up in your core. Eddie had picked up the pace at your omission, and fuck if he wasn’t hitting your g spot with each delicious stroke of his cock hitting your walls.

"Fuck I'm going to cum!" You scream, all caution thrown to the wind, you'd forgotten where you were. The only thing you could think of was Eddie and his delicious cock.

"Fuck yes, babydoll. Come on this cock." Eddie's hand let go of your hair and wrapped it around your throat, pulling you flush to his body.

"More" You whisper.

"Greedy greedy girl."

"Please" You begged. You needed him to touch you.

"There is my good girl." His hand that had gripped your hip slid down and started playing with your swollen clit and your legs almost gave out.

"Next time, I'm keeping my word, and I'm going to eat this pretty little pussy." Eddie growled.

That did it for you; your inner walls squeezed, and you felt your orgasm rush through you. Eddie trusted in you as your body convulsed around him.

"Fuck you're so fucking tight," Eddie grits through his teeth, and he fights off his impending orgasm. He doesn't want this moment to end, he wants it to last forever. What if this is the last chance he has to feel your pussy wrapped around him?

"Please, Eddie, I want your cum! I want your cum so fucking bad, my pussy needs it."

That did it for Eddie, he let go and his hot seed was being shot into you with a roar.

After minutes of silence and heavy breathing, Eddie bent down and pulled up your panties and stockings for you, trapping his cum with it. You turn slowly, afraid to look him in the eyes, but Eddie doesn't allow it. He brings your cin up, guiding your eyes to look into his.

"Don't shy away from me now, babydoll. You're going to go back down to the lobby and finish the rest of your work day knowing my cum is going to be seeping through your pretty little panties, ok?" He ordered, and you dumbly nodded your head, still fucked out by the amazing dick you just received.

"Good girl" Eddie patted your ass, and you walked to the elevator with wobbly legs. Eddie laughed and held you stand straight before letting go before you reached the first floor.

You returned from your break fifteen minutes later than allotted, but Robin covered for you. You couldn't even look her in the eyes, and she knew you got freaky with the freak of Hawkins.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

In honor of Easter...

Eddie Munson can't sleep. Maybe it was the almost expired can of spaghetti that he had for dinner, maybe it's the new campaign he's itching to plan, maybe it's being back in the Hawkins High with yet another fight for graduation he's bound to lose because his literature teacher was yet another victim of Danny Munson's petty crimes, and what better revenge than to repeatedly fail his son that Danny lost to social services ten years ago?

Or maybe it's the weird rustling under his window.

Now Eddie, he's a survivor. He runs, yes, but that's because there's nothing to protect. His honor? Oh please.

But if there's someone trying to break into the only real home he's ever known? That's different.

He grabs an empty beer bottle that he's been intending to throw out for a week or so and heroically - and stupidly - jumps out of his window. He expects to maybe land into a bush. Do a superhero landing or something.

What he doesn't expect is a pained wheeze and "what the fuck?!" yelled by his landing zone.

Eddie scrambles back to his feet and raises the bottle. Perhaps he should have broken it first to make it more threatening? He swings it against the trailer wall and it shatters almost completely, leaving with a small ring of glass in hand.

The figure he landed on curses again and tries to scramble back on their feet.

Eddie raises the pitiful remains of the bottle. "Uh. Stop you...you scoundrel!" he threatens, except it doesn't sound like a threat, more like a plea. "Or I'll stab you with this..." he looks at the glass ring again, "...with this."

He hopes the intruder will flee. More likely, he's going to be jumped, punched and killed. But what Eddie absolutely does not expect is the town's pretty boy, Steve Harrington, dusting his knees and glaring at Eddie with hands on hips like a pissed off soccer mom. "Jesus Christ, Munson, are you trying to wake up the whole park?" he hisses.

Eddie suddenly feels very stupid. He lets go of the broken bottle and it lands in the dirt with a quiet clink. "Harrington? Uh...dude, I mean no disrespect and all, but why are you under my window?"

Steve's look could kill. "It's Easter tomorrow, what do you think I'm doing? Hiding eggs." He points to the basket full of eggs nearby.

It makes sense. Except it doesn't. Eddie pokes the eggs and they don't explode, so at least that's good. "Why on earth would you, Steve "the Hair" Harrington, be hiding eggs in a trailer park? Don't you have like, a fancy neighborhood to do this in? With Belgian chocolate eggs and champaigne for the bored moms and stuff like that?"

Steve sighs and runs fingers through his hair. Eddie notices with a pang of guilt that it's flattened where his foot landed. That's also a good moment to realize that he's only in his boxers and a t-shirt and barefoot.

But Steve doesn't seem to notice. He just vaguely gestures around. "Those neighborhoods have committees and stuff like that. And it's normal there. Look, I don't think local kids have a lot of good stuff going on. I know one of them, and she deserves to have one day like a normal kid, no worries, no thinking if her mom can afford it. So I'm preparing an egg hunt here. Or I was, before someone half-naked dropped on top of me and shattered a bottle over a pretty good hiding spot I found."

"Shit! Sorry!" Eddie immediately starts picking up the shards, or at least tries to in the dark. At least until a large hand grabs his own.

"Christ, Munson! Stop!" Steve hisses. "Do you want to cut yourself? I will just move the egg somewhere else and pick up the glass before it starts in the morning. And for fuck's sake, stop moving! Do you want to step on a shard?"

That finally calms Eddie down. He sighs and hangs his head down. "You know, Harrington, one might think you're a good dude. If one wasn't careful."

Steve nudges his side. "One should be careful. Now come on, I will give you a boost." When Eddie stares at him, he adds: "to your window. You want to go back to sleep, no?"

Eddie clears his throat. "Actually, I was thinking I'd love to grab my sneakers and help you, I know a lot of good hiding spots. Is that cool?"

Harrington thinks for a moment, then he nods. "Yep, cool. Now, do you need a lift?"

Back in the familiar clutter of his bedroom, Eddie thinks it was a fever dream, a hallucination from a food poisoning, the final revenge of the spaghetti can.

But then he hears Harrington whisper after him: "Don't you dare come out without those sneakers, Munson! No bare feet are getting near shattered glass on my watch!"

And Eddie just snickers, leans out of the window and whispers back: "For you, big boy? I'll even wear pants!"

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #6

CH6. Spilled Milk | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

The diner was busy. 

Too busy. In fact, it was chaotic. An unusual brunch time rush on the hottest Saturday in August. The first in the month and the official marking of your two month birthday at Jim’s Grill. Not that it mattered, no one was able to celebrate it, not even yourself. 

A greyhound and a private coach had pulled into the parking lot within ten minutes of each other, tourists pouring out of them in big families, clusters of hikers, campers and back water town enthusiasts ready to order everything from the menu. Jim had lit up at the sight, the bell above the diner door jingling over and over and over again, before the man looked at Eddie through the hatch and his face fell into a panicked expression. 

“Shit.”

Steve was already smiling until his cheeks ached, his customer service voice ringing out through the din of the crowd as he tried his best to get everyone seated, him and Jonathan pushing tables together to cater for the family that arrived with seven kids in tow. 

Jim was on the phone in his office, barking out orders before they turned into pleas, the garish orange receiver clutched between two hands before he closed his eyes, mouthed a prayer and then pumped his fist in the air. Twenty minutes later, Dustin Henderson was storming through the diner with two other teens trailing behind him, looking far more begrudging about whatever they’d obviously been roped into. 

Hopper handed them aprons and promised, “cash in hand at the end of the night and an extra twenty if you get through this without breaking anything.”

A deal was made and soon, a red headed girl called Max Mayfield was flying between tables on bright green roller skates, bussing tables with a bored expression on her freckled face. Behind her, Jonathan’s little brother Will was delivering trays of drinks, narrowly avoiding Dustin as he brought Eddie’s famous stacked burgers out by the dozen. 

It was chaos. It was too warm, and god, it was so loud. But fuck, the tips were great. Your apron was stuffed with bills and order tickets, your fingertips red from the amount of times you’d caught them between the metal clips you hung them from above Eddie’s station. It was too busy to talk, to chat and flirt quietly in this new way you’d both grown brave enough to do. The boy was frazzled, side by side with Argyle by the grill as the flipped patties and fried eggs and bacon, a new batch of rolls dangerously close to burning in the oven. The timer was screaming, something else was buzzing, the workstations were the messiest you’d ever seen them and there was a puddle of spilled milk by the door. 

“Door! Behind!” You yelled out amongst the noise, eyes wide at the orders sitting by the hatch still to be delivered. Nancy and Robin were taking plates six at a time, hands and arms full, their balance nothing short of impressive. “Eddie, sorry, but table six wanted extra hash browns with their brunch combo not an egg—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before Eddie was taking the plate from you and sliding the perfectly fried egg into the trash. He barely looked at you, something you tried not to frown at because his mouth was set in a strained line and there were beads of sweat gathering at curls on his forehead. “Argyle, time on those hash browns?” Eddie barked, eyes still on the burgers he was placing cheddar slices on top of. 

Argyle was scraping crispy potato pieces around the griddle, salt and pepper and some other spices poured on top as he worked at breakneck speed. “Three minutes, chef,” Argyle called back and Eddie grunted in return. 

You felt stupid, standing there aimlessly with a customer's plate in your hand and before you could get out of the way, Eddie was moving you himself. Big, wide hands on the tops of your arms, guiding you out of the path of the door just before Steve burst through it. He narrowly missed the spilled milk. 

“Door!” He yelled a fraction later than he should’ve. Eddie glared at him. “Corner! Fuck, where’s the fucking syrups? Eddie? Ed! Where’s the syrup!”

You watched Eddie squeeze his eyes shut before he groaned, killing the heat on the grill just as Argyle appeared at your side to slide the freshly cooked hash browns onto the plate. You smiled, grateful. “Thank you.”  

“Open your fuckin’ eyes, man! They’re on the shelf!” Eddie was furiously wiping his hands on his stained chef whites, a dish towel tucked into the ties of his apron as he started assembling burger after burger. 

Bun. Sauce. Patty. Cheese. Bacon. More sauce. Lettuce. Pickles. Tomato. Fried egg. Perfect yolk. Crispy onions. More sauce. Bun. 

“What shelf?!” Steve yelled back, the pantry contents rattling as he pushed his way past huge bags of sugar and jars of homemade jam. “Eddie, it’s not fucking there!”

Robin barged in the door, not announcing her arrival to anyone and the edge of it slammed Argyle as he walked past carrying piles of grease filled frying pans. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry dude!” Eddie glared at her. “Door?” She said weakly. 

“Why is everyone in my fuckin’ kitchen!” Eddie yelled and diners closest to the hatch peered in at him, disapproving expressions on their faces as their kids with ketchup smeared chins laughed. “Buckley! What is it?”

“There’s like, seven tables asking for maple syrup. Where is it?”

Everyone groaned, eyes rolling and Eddie threw his hands to the ceiling. “It’s on the fuckin’ shelf, but Harrington is too blind to see them. Christ, Argyle, start getting these burgers out, Harrington fuckin’ move man—”

It all happened a bit too fast, that’s all. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, not really. Just a classic case of spilled milk. No need to cry over it, right? That’s what they said. 

Argyle dumped the pans into the sink with a crash, slipping between you and Eddie’s workstation as he tried to get to the burgers before they went cold. Eddie was pushing past Robin to get to Steve who was still arguing and well, Robin might’ve stepped forward at the same time you stepped back to avoid Argyle. Plateful of hash browns held high, you tried to stop them from falling. You tried not to elbow Argyle in the face and god, you tried really hard not to completely crash into Robin despite the way her shoulder caught yours. 

You stepped back again, someone yelled ‘door!’ and the sound of Max’s roller blades ripped through onto the kitchen tiles, sending everyone into a loud panic. Your foot found the puddle of milk, sneakers slipping through the liquid and the inevitable happened. 

There was an awful crack when your head hit the worktop on the way down. Ass hitting the tiles, a horrible spine numbing pain licking up your back. The bones in your hips tingled with it before tears sprung to your eyes as a searing pain set in everywhere at once. You heard the kitchen go quiet for just a second, a blissful peace before the plate you’d been holding finally joined you on the floor and smashed into a hundred different pieces. Argyle’s perfectly crispy hash browns skittered under the workstation and you heard someone swear. 

Then everyone was clamouring at once, hands hesitated to touch you as you brought your own to the back of your head and held it there. There was a strange kind of heat to it that made you hope it wasn’t blood, but you were too scared to look. Milk seeped into your wrinkled sock, your legs splayed out in front of you like a forgotten doll, but you didn’t feel half as pretty as one. You gazed mournfully at the smashed plate and couldn’t help the way your bottom lip twisted and trembled. God, your head hurt. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry, shit— I’m sorry, I should’ve said I was coming in, right?”

“It’s fine Max, it’s not your fault—”

“How many fingers am I holding up? Can you stand? Hey, who’s the president—?”

“Lil’ Chicago slice got laid out.”

“Everyone move.”

Eddie’s voice rang out the loudest, clear and gruff with an authoritative tone that bordered on scary. Everyone listened, the kitchen and its team quietening down again when they all saw how you winced at the noise. Eddie pushed past Steve, and Robin, dropping down to hunker next to you. His brows were stitched together with concern and he tutted softly at the tear slipping down your cheek. You hadn’t even noticed, but his thumb brushed it away before anyone else could see. 

He murmured your name and it sounded like a question you were supposed to answer, so you hummed, face scrunched up as more sharp needles of pain prickled at the back of your skull. Your hand was still pressed to it, scared to let go as if your whole head would simply roll off of your neck. 

But Eddie’s hand curled around your wrist and he tugged gently, murmuring words of nonsense that were nothing more than soft placations. With a bit of coaxing, you let him take your hand away and you slammed your eyes shut before you could look. No one hissed or gasped, so it seemed safe enough. 

But still, you asked, “there’s no blood, right?”

The boy gave you a soft smile as everyone circled closer to peer at your hand. “Nah,” Eddie told you reassuringly. “No blood, you’ll live.” Then he was cupping your chin in his hand, thumb pressed to the corner of your mouth and his brow wrinkled with more concern. “Can I take a look though?”

You wanted to say no. All this fuss and attention was making you feel too hot, embarrassment from falling starting to roll in with the pain and it mixed in your stomach to create an awfully uncomfortable concoction. Steve and Robin were still gazing down at you, eyes wide with shock and Max looked stricken with guilt, as if she thought her coming into the kitchen unannounced caused this. Argyle was already moving between everyone, sweeping broken pieces of plate and squished food out of the way. 

But you nodded and let Eddie peer at the back of your head. His hands gentle as he turned you this way and that, parting your hair so he could look for any cuts. He whistled at the sight of a bump and ran his thumb over it softly. You winced and he murmured a sorry before squeezed your knee, a comforting thing that Robin raised her brows at. 

“Think you can stand?” Eddie asked. 

You didn’t get a chance to answer, because Hopper was bursting through the doors with a red face and seven ticket orders clutched in his hand. “Why is half my staff on the kitchen fucking floor?” He yelled. “It’s crazy out there! What’s going on?”

You brought your knees to your chest as Steve explained what had happened, gesturing to the puddle of milk, the broken pieces of plate in the trash. Eddie didn’t move, didn’t take his eyes off you, even when you winced in embarrassment and tried to hide your face in your hands. 

You heard Jim sigh and then he was clapping his hands and demanding that Steve and Robin went back to the dining floor. “There’s four tables waitin’ for coffee, never mind food, c’mon! And Max— Jesus, Maxine, take those skates off before someone else ends up with a concussion.”

Argyle was sent back to the grill before Hop patted Eddie on the shoulder and told him to do the same. Eddie screwed up his face, confusion wrinkling his brow. “What? No, Hop, someone’s gotta take her home.”

“Ed—” you started to interrupt, mortified at the idea of causing an upset. 

Hop laughed, not meanly, just amused. “And what? You think you should be the one to take her, Casanova? You’re the only guy I got here that knows how to cook an omelette, you’re not going anywhere Munson.”

Eddie’s ears burned with the quip, cheeks flushed pink and he scowled at his boss, uncaring about the repercussions. But his attention was quickly stolen by you as you made an attempt to move, standing shakily as you protested that you were fine. The boy scoffed, holding your forearms so you could grip his, knuckles white as the shock of it all set in. 

You did feel a little dizzy. 

“She’s not going back out there to take orders,” Eddie told the older man as they both looked at your peaky expression, your glassy eyes. 

“Well, I ain’t got the bodies to get someone to take her home, kid,” Hop shrugged regretfully. “Wayne at the garage?”

“Fishing trip,” Eddie answered sourly. “Here, c’mon, sit down, yeah?” He guided you to the stool by his station and helped you onto it, eyes filled with concern as you clutched the edge of the worktop and closed your eyes. “Should we be callin’ a doctor?” Eddie asked Hop. 

“Don’t you dare,” you managed to bark at him, even though your voice sounded shaky. “I’m fine. I’ll just, I’ll just sit for a bit.”

You couldn’t hear what the two men were whispering about, but embarrassment told you it was most definitely about you. You only looked up when someone set a glass of water in front of you and you smiled in thanks at Argyle before he squeezed your shoulder and went back to flipping pancakes. 

“Drink that, please,” Eddie mumbled softly as he appeared by your side. Hopper had left, standing awkwardly in the middle of the diner instead of his office as he wrote down orders listed off by a frantic Nancy. “Okay, we’ve come to an agreement.”

You snorted into your glass. “We have?” You asked as you wiped at your lips. 

“Hop’s gonna take over and I’ll drive you home when this place finally calms down. Or we run out of eggs, whatever comes first.”

You rolled your eyes but the action was fond, just like the smile on your lips. You could barely bring yourself to look up at the boy for fear of giving too much away in your gaze, but when you did, you saw the same softness in Eddie’s own expression. “You don’t have to do that,” you told him. “I’ll just sit for a bit and then walk home.”

Eddie snorted and began chopping slices of tomatoes at a speed your eyes could barely keep up with. “No you fuckin’ won’t,” he told you. “Part of this agreement was that you park your cute ass where I can see you. No passing out in the walk-in, alright?”

You tried not to dwell on the compliment too much. Weeks had passed since the night you’d gotten high with the boy, too close on his bed, too close to doing something that was interrupted. You’d been back to the Munson trailer since, but you spent evenings on the sofa with both Eddie and Wayne, yelling at Alex Trebek and trying out new dishes that Eddie created for late nice dinners. No other attempt at a kiss - if that’s what had been about to happen. No other attempt at asking for a date - if that’s what the boy had been about to say. 

“Are there any other conditions to this agreement?” You asked, wincing when Argyle dropped a pot into the sink. “Or did you just sell my soul to Jim without me knowing?”

Eddie laughed as he threw some mushroom halves onto the grill, dropping in some butter until they sizzled. “Sweetheart, c’mon now, you did that yourself when you agreed to work in his hellhole.” Eddie moved away just for a few seconds, long enough to return with a new glass of ice water that he replaced your empty one with. “But he did say you’re not allowed to sue him.”

You smiled, laughing weakly because your head still throbbed and the diner was too loud but Eddie Munson was grinning at you with his dimples on show and a stray curl falling into his big, brown eyes. 

“Damn,” you tried to joke. “There goes my plan.”

—————

You’d been slumped on the stool for the best part of two hours before someone roused you from your semi sleeping state. Heels of your hands pressed to your closed eyes, the sounds of the diner sounding further and further away as you let yourself be lulled into haze by the sounds of Eddie and Argyle talking over the sizzle of the grill, the popping of bacon, the whir of a whisk. 

Then, a palm on your back, wide and warm. You startled only slightly, sitting up and reappearing from behind your hands to see a bowl of soup being slid in front of you. A deep red, flecked with cracked black pepper and smelling like tomato and basil. There was a swirl of some cream in the centre, artfully placed, and a spoon was dipped into the middle of it. 

“Eat up,” Eddie instructed softly. “Then I can try ‘n’ find you some Advil or somethin’, Nancy probably got some stashed somewhere.”

You eyed the soup with a sudden greed, mouth watering at the aroma, your fingers finding the spoon. “You didn’t even ask if I was hungry,” you gently scolded the boy. 

Eddie knew what it meant. ‘Thank you. You shouldn’t have.’

“Don’t start,” he grumbled back, already going back to cracking more eggs into a bowl. Only six this time, which meant service must’ve been slowing. “You’ve had a coffee and half a slice of toast all day, eat your fuckin’ soup.”

You knew what that meant too. ‘You’re welcome. Please eat, so I stop worrying.’

So you ate and Eddie made omelettes, folding each so meticulously that you couldn’t help but watch. Butter on top, chives diced, fresh tomato and Italian ham in the middle. He knew you were staring, he always did. But now he smiled instead of scowled, let his gaze flicker to you every time he put his knife down and he nodded appreciatively when your spoon scraped the last of the soup from the bowl.

“Good?” He asked like always, sliding the omelette dishes out of the hatch for Steve to deliver to the waiting tables.

Jim was back in the office and the younger kids were long gone, sent home with leftover doughnuts from the pastry cabinet and an extra twenty in each of their back pockets. Regular slowness has resumed. Only Mr Creel sat at the bar, under the television as always, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee he wouldn’t let Jonathan refill. There was a family at one table, an older couple at another, and three teens sharing a plate of fries in a booth at the back. 

You nodded, humming. “So good, Eddie. Best soup I’ve had.”

Eddie grinned and tried to hide it, bashful and pink in the face at your praise. There was a lull in the kitchen as Argyle disappeared into the walk-in and for the first time that day, there was nothing on the grills in danger of burning. So the boy cleared his station and leant his elbows on it, so close to you that you could let your hand touch his, if you’d felt brave enough. 

“How’s the head?” 

You made a face at the reminder, reaching back to gingerly feel at the small lump there, tender and embarrassing. “It’s fine,” you told him. “Just another injury for the collection.”

Eddie snorted, knowing about your bumps and bruises you’d gathered working in the diner. You were insistent someone was moving table eight a few inches to the right each day, just to fuck with you and your hip. “Gonna have to keep you in a bubble.”

You smiled, “can’t feed me in a bubble, Munson.”

Another grin from Eddie, shy and pretty and so incredibly genuine. The boy that had scowled at you from the minute you’d appeared now couldn’t hide how happy you seemed to make him. Pink cheeks and dimples, a shine to his eyes that made your knees a little weak and you wanted to tell him then, right there, kiss me please. 

Kiss me without smoke between us, kiss me without having an excuse to be close. Kiss me ‘cause you want to. 

“Yeah, yeah you’re right, that seems— that would be, uh, less than ideal,” Eddie coughed, suddenly nervous. He straightened up and took his hands away from the counter, away from any ideas you had about holding them in your own. “I could, uh, I could - y’know - ask you if you wanted to grab dinner later, instead.”

You sucked in a breath, eyes wide. You didn’t say anything, you just blinked and your silence urged Eddie to fill it, so he rambled on further, voice coming out rushed and a little rough. “Like, I mean, so I can make sure, you know… you eat. God. And you don’t hit your head again, ‘cause you could totally have a concussion and that would su—”

“Eddie?” You interrupted, heart beating too fast, your chest too tight. It felt like it was ready to crack in two, ready to bloom. Excitement was caught in your throat, maybe hope. “Are you asking me on a date?”

The boy faltered and then smiled, a dopey, lopsided thing that you were sure was the most endearing sight you’d ever come across. Those cheeks went pink again and suddenly he was the furthest thing from the grumpy line cook that grunted his greetings to everyone. But maybe, you guessed, he just didn’t do that to you. 

“I’m definitely trying to, yeah.” Eddie grinned then, only once he saw your smile too. 

Giddy, feeling like a schoolgirl with her first crush, you squinted at him, eyes crinkling in the corners with a new type of joy. You wanted to laugh at his attempt, his shyness for a change instead of your own but you couldn’t keep it together. You were bursting at the seams, chest splintering as the butterflies roared. You felt breathless, you felt warm, you felt like you could look at yourself in the mirrored edge of a frying pan and watch yourself glitter. 

“I’d love to,” you told him, soft, quiet, happy. 

The boy lazed back against the worktop, the stainless steel between you littered with spilled sugar and the lonely top of a carrot. He played with the edge of his dish towel that was tucked into the front of his apron, narrowed his eyes at you comically and tried to contain his own grin. He was beaming. 

“You’re not just saying that ‘cause you’re concussed, right?”

You laughed, a bright, sharp sound and you shook your head. “I’m not concussed.” You hummed, happy. “And even if I was, I’d still wanna go on a date with you.”

Eddie looked brighter than the sun. 

—————

That evening, Eddie picked you up outside your apartment with freshly washed curls and a shirt that didn’t have any rips in it. 

His boots were clean and his jeans weren’t creased and you’d have said something about it all if you weren’t as nervous as he looked. With what appeared to be a permanent flush on his cheeks, he hopped out the van as he saw you lock up, jogging round the front so he could open the door for you. 

“You look nice,” he murmured as he helped you in, his hand holding yours, his gaze unable to stop from wandering over all the bare thigh your dress showed off. 

A summery thing, cherry red with a hem that erred on the side of almost too short, with short sleeves and a pretty frilled neckline. It was lower than your uniform, showing off more skin and cleavage than he’d ever seen before. You’d changed seven times between getting out of the shower and watching the window for Eddie’s van, throwing your rejected outfits on your bedroom floor as you stood in your pyjama shirt, wondering if it was far too presumptuous to change into your best lace underwear. 

The butterflies inside your ribcage were rattling. 

“Thank you,” you answered politely and you let yourself look at him too, like you were allowed to now. He still had the rings he wore outside of the kitchen, a plain black T-shirt that smelled like he always did, like lemongrass and freshly spritzed cologne. “You look nice too.”

He went pink at your words and duked his chin to hide his smile. And when he got back into the driver's seat, you looked at him expectantly, nervously. 

“So, uh, there’s only really one place to go for food in this town,” Eddie cleared his throat awkwardly and he smiled, nose scrunched. “And rumour has it, the chef is out on a hot date…”

You laughed, tension broken for a second or two and you hummed, nodding. “Hot date, huh?”

Eddie nodded furiously, letting his eyes dip to look over your bare legs, the short hem of your dress, scarlet against your skin. He looked bravely, not trying to hide it the way he used to. “The hottest,” he confirmed. 

“Where are you taking me then?” you asked softly, leaning your cheek against the seat. It was dangerous looking at him like this, like you wanted him, like you were over trying to hide it. Your workplace crush had bloomed into something else, something more and it made your chest ache.

“Wayne’s not home,” Eddie replied just as soft, just as quiet. His gaze kept falling to your mouth, the way it turned up in the corners. “I have it on good authority that the food at Casa Munson is top tier.”

It made your stomach flip, the idea of being alone with the boy. It barely happened, a rarity, really. The butterflies in your stomach were pushing at your bones, gnawing to get out. You were dizzy with it. 

“Yeah?” you smiled at him, putting Eddie’s own nerves at ease. “Think you could get us a table?”

[oneforthemunny]

have i the right? |yandere!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: ever since you started working at turtle's tapes, you and eddie have grown closer and closer until he finally asks you out. it feels like the pieces of your life are finally falling into place, things are going right for once- but things are not always what they seem.

contains: minors dni 18+. dark fic. dark!eddie. yandere!eddie. dark tones of the fic. stalking, obsession, breaking and entering, mentions of past violence, mentions of past trauma and relationships. masturbation.

Twelve days. 

Twelve days since you walked in. Eddie didn’t know what divine intervention had stepped in, decided to shine down on him and bring you into Turtle’s Tapes, a resume in hand, asking for Mel. 

You had been so jittery, fingers drumming on the strap of your leather shoulder bag. Red nails, freshly painted, Eddie could tell by the smudges around the edges you hadn’t bothered to clean up. He didn’t point it out, couldn’t even if he wanted to. Tongue too thick, breath caught and suffocating in his throat, wrapped around the words he wasn’t even sure he’d form yet. 

He managed to point you to the back office, croak out the words he couldn’t even remember, hoping his cheeks didn’t reveal the flush of heat thrumming through his body when you smiled at him, waving when you walked away. 

“You’re working again?” 

A giggly voice had Eddie turning, spine straightening, shoulders rolling back when he turned from the stack of records he was sorting. 

You had your hair up today, pulled back so he could see your face fully, more features for him to memorize. 

“Yeah,” Eddie snorted, chin ducking to his chest, a waterfall of curls hiding the pink of his cheeks. “Brenda called out of another shift.” The eye roll he added made you giggle. 

“Again? Why do they even keep her around?” You muttered, grabbing a stack of records out of the shipment box, handing the top one- Out of Time- over to Eddie. Your nails were starting to chip now, around the edges, flaked red polish. 

“Well, she-she’s not bad. Pretty good on the register.” Eddie grabbed the record, sucking in a breath to calm the excited tremble in his hands. 

“Right.” You frowned, lips puckering out the way they did when you were thinking. Eddie noticed it on your first day of training, when he was explaining how to stack the eight tracks, an adorable tick he found himself thinking about at night, staring at his ceiling replaying every word you’d said. 

“I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to be bitchy.” You shook your head lightly. “I was- I mean, you’re always taking her shifts. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

“No, no,” Eddie’s grip tightened on the record, the plastic wrapping crinkling under his touch. “I know you weren’t.” 

Stupid, stupid, Eddie cursed himself, watching your face fall. The bell trilled, pulling your attention to greet the customer with a cheery tone. You were still new, still eager to impress and help, not weathered and worn from customer service like Eddie. He was thankful for it, truthfully. 

Eddie liked watching you work, liked watching you in general. When he could cut his eyes, stare shamelessly like he used to in freshman year algebra, watching Stacy Simmons from the back corner of the class. 

You were better than Stacy Simmons. Prettier. Definitely nicer. Stacy never even looked at Eddie, he wasn’t even sure she knew he existed, even when he sent her the candy-gram on Valentine’s Day. 

He wondered what kind of candy you liked, what it would have been like to go to high school with you. If you would have acknowledged him, maybe even been friends with him? Gone to prom, wore a corsage he pinned on with his Judas Priest button. 

“Were you a cheerleader in high school?” Eddie asked when you finally migrated back over to him, stocking on the other side of the stacks. 

“What?” Your nose crinkled lightly, lips curling in a tiny smile. “A cheerleader?” 

“Yeah.” Eddie’s heart hammered, chest burning with regret, embarrassment. What a stupid fuckin’ question, Munson, why would you ask that?

“No.” You giggled, shaking your head. “Do I look like I was a cheerleader?” You snorted lightly, brow raising playfully. 

Eddie wanted to tell you, you looked like the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, prettier than a cheerleader, than an angel. 

Instead, he thumbed through the stacks, pretending to look for a record, a desperate attempt to play it cool. “Kinda.” He shrugged. “Not in a bad way, you’re just… you get really peppy when you’re helping people.” 

“Peppy?” You laughed. 

“Yeah.” Eddie smirked. “I mean, your voice raises.” 

“Wow.” You shook your head, lips rolling, biting back a smirk. “I didn’t even realize I did that. I guess I do.” 

Eddie’s stomach turned, a violent, sharp jab when your smile dropped slightly. Munson, don’t ever speak again. What the fuck is wrong with you today? Get it together. 

“It’s not a bad thing.” Eddie shook his head, sweaty palms gripping the stack of records. “You’re- The customers really like you.” 

“Thanks.” You muttered. There was that silence, filling the space between you. Eddie loathed it, feared it, terrified that it would linger forever, that he might never hear the sound of your voice again because he drove you away. 

“Do you close tonight?” You hummed, shuffling down to the next stack. Head still tilted down but eyes lifted to look at Eddie, lines creasing on your forehead that he’d never seen before. A new angle of you for him to preoccupy his thoughts with, play in his fantasies. 

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded, swallowing down the growing lump in his throat, thumb twisting the ring around his middle finger. His stack was gone, finished, but he wouldn’t dare leave to get another. Not while you were talking, while he was in your attention. 

Instead, he pretended to organize the names, shuffling the stacks. “Just us tonight.” His lips curled, dimples deep in a grin. 

You smiled back, soft but bright, enough to make his heart flutter and take flight. “Fun.” You shrug sweetly. “That means we can change the music, right? I don’t think I can listen to Amy Grant on a loop again.” 

“Yeah, definitely. As soon as Mel leaves we can.” Eddie swore he was in love, hoping you couldn’t see the blush in his cheeks. Every second he spent with you, time built his feelings, made them grow stronger and stronger. 

“Play something actually good.” Eddie smiled. He’d been shuffling the same records back and forth, fiddling between his hands. 

“I’m sure you will. You have great taste.” The compliment was so natural, so easy coming from you. Still, it made Eddie blister and burn at the praise, so sure his heart might swell and tear through his ribcage, splatter all over the aisles and on your t-shirt. 

“The customers really like you too. Always come in and ask for your recommendations.” You added, filing in the last of your record stack. 

“Yeah? Thanks, I mean,” Eddie took a breath, swallowing down a stutter, jumbling of words. “Thanks. Just trying to keep the kids cool, y’know? This grunge shit.” Eddie shook his head. “Sorry, I know you’re a fan. Nirvana’s not that bad.” 

You laughed, shaking your head at him, an empty box cradled on your hip. “So I guess I can’t convince you to spin Nevermind tonight?” You batted your eyes at him sweetly, lip tucked between your teeth. Eddie’s knees tightened. 

As soon as Mel left, Eddie was tearing open the album, shoving Heart in Motion back in its slip with far less care than he should have. Mel would bitch him out, bitch him for opening and playing a non-approved album on the store’s system. Eddie didn’t care, he’d buy the album in secret, give it to you maybe. Slip it in your locker with a note. 

If your smile was anything like what you gave him when the opening chords to Smells Like Teen Spirit played through the speakers, he’d buy you a million of those fucking albums. 

The hours were slow for a Thursday, especially with the new releases. Not that Eddie minded, he’d never complain about a lack of asshole highschool kids, demanding for cassettes and tapes. 

“I think it’s because of the rain.” You tilted your head back, looking out the front window, painted and splattered with rain drops. 

Eddie was convinced you could read his mind, sure you might be his soul mate, made just for him. “Yeah, I think so.” He nodded, wiping off the counter with a sudsy rag. 

You sighed, heavy, pushing past your lips, puckering them in a perfect pout. Eddie’s tongue ran over his bottom lip, the soapy warm water seeping through his fingers. 

“I was hoping it would hold over until I got off.” You admitted, shoulder’s falling, dragging the broom lazily around your dust piles. “I forgot an umbrella or a rain jacket.” 

Eddie paused, a second longer than he should have, your attention moved to him. “You- Sorry, you walked?” Eddie shook his head lightly, curls bobbing, brushing against his cheeks. 

“Yeah,” You muttered, looking down at the broom, pushing the piles of dirt around. “My car’s in the shop. They said it would be ready a week ago.” 

Eddie’s fingers curled around the rag, water piling and pooling in the spot in front of him. He’d find where your car was, make them fix it, fix it himself if he had to. 

Still, your rainy predicament gave him an opportunity he’d been looking for. Plotting and mulling over for the past twelve days. 

“I can give you a ride.” Eddie shrugged, dragging the rag, stained with dirt from the years of use, over the glass, prismatic streaks on the glass from the cleaner. 

“No,” You shook your head politely, sweeping the dirt pile into the dustpan. “I can’t ask you to do that. It’s fine, honestly, I live really close-” 

“-C’mon.” Eddie rolled his eyes lightly. “It’s pouring and it’s dark. Shouldn’t walk alone at night, anyways. Lots of weirdos out.” 

Your own heart skipped at his tone, thrilling and thrumming with excitement. “I mean, if it’s not a problem.” You hesitated. “I can give you some gas money-” 

“-No, don’t.” Eddie said firmly, plopping the rag back in the bucket of water. “It’s not a problem, seriously. I don’t mind.” 

Your lips curled, a shy smile. “Thank you.” You nodded. “I really appreciate it, Eddie.” 

“It’s not a problem.” Eddie shrugged. “Besides, you’re not wearing the right shoes.” He nodded towards your white Keds, cloth on top, stained with dirt from your walk here. “Can’t let them get ruined.” 

“They’re already ruined. Really dirty, I need to clean them.” You smirked, toes wiggling in your sneakers. “But thank you.” 

“Hey, it’s no problem.” Eddie shrugged, trailing you when you crossed the store, bending over to brush up another pile of dirt. Your shirt rode up, jeans lowering just enough for Eddie’s breath to still entirely. The strings of your panties, high cut, a lavender shade peeking over the band of your denim, that had Eddie’s head spinning. 

His face flushed, blood rushing straight to his crotch, shamelessly. A still soapy hand adjusted himself, turning so you wouldn’t see. Wouldn’t see how easily he was flustered, attracted to you. The last thing he needed to do was scare you off, fuck this all up again. 

Like with Chrissy. 

Eddie winced, teeth clenching at his own thoughts. No, he wouldn’t think about her. You weren’t anything like her. How dare he insult you like that, comparing you so lowly to her. 

His eyes cut back to you, hips swaying while you swept to the beat of Lithium, head bobbing to the clash of the drums. 

No, he knew better this time. He’d be more careful. He wouldn’t mess this up. 

Eddie gave you his keys to the store, let you lock up while he took the trash, sprinting to his van. He shoved the cigarette buds in the plastic trash bag, smushing down the brown, grease soaked fast-food paper bags he’d carelessly tossed in his passenger side. He would’ve had his car detailed if he would have known he’d be giving you a ride. 

“Ed?” Your voice carried around the corner. 

“Back here!” Eddie called, jamming his keys into the van’s ignition, the engine sputtering to life before evening out into a steady roar. One leg out, Eddie stopped, sucking in a breath. He swiped the yellow scrunchie off his gear shift, shoving it in his pocket just as you turned the corner. 

Eddie smiled, walking to the dumpster, flinging the bag in. “Sorry, just wanted to get the car started. It takes a while for it to warm up.” 

He held the door open for you, bowing dramatically when you slipped in. You giggled at his antics, and his heart soared, fluttered with pride. Eddie slipped into the driver’s side, eyes scanning the console and back of the van nonchalantly when he backed out, making sure he hadn’t left anything lying about. 

He was more careful after what happened before. More aware, double checking his steps, but the scrunchie had him on edge. It was close, too close for his comfort. 

“Seriously, thank you.” You looked over at Eddie, the glow of the street lights cast a nearly angelic, golden luster over your features. “Saved me from getting sick.” You nodded towards the window, Eddie’s wipers creaking with every swipe over the glass. 

“Can’t have that now.” Eddie smirked, looking over at you, throwing his blinker on. “Have to take your shifts too. Then I’ll really be overworked.” 

You laughed, looking out the window, smile falling as Eddie cruised down the familiar street. 

“But seriously, if you ever need me to take a shift for you, I don’t care to.” Eddie shrugged, eyes cutting over to yours. He didn’t see the way you’d stilled, hands wringing in your lap, spine rigid. “I was just kidding.” 

You stayed silent, heart hammering, inching further and further up your throat. Eddie frowned, looking over at you. “You alright?” 

Your wide eyed gaze met his, scared, startled. He saw flashes of Chrissy before him, merging into his vision. “What?” Eddie cringed. He didn’t mean to sound so fierce. “Are you alright?” 

“How do you know where I live?” You asked, blinking at Eddie, eyes rounded. Your eyes cut to the road ahead, Eddie inching closer to your apartment complex. 

His heart stopped, a pause that lingered a little bit longer than he meant it to. “You told me.” He blurted, a white knuckled grip on the wheel, turning back towards the road. “When you started, you told me you lived at Magnolia Place. My friend Jeff lives over there, remember?” 

You had mentioned it, not to him, to Lindy. Eddie had overheard it, when he was lingering around, watching you from behind cassette stacks. You frowned, but your grip loosened, relaxing. Eddie held his breath, switching his hand casually, freeing his right hand- just in case. 

“Oh,” You chirped, flushing with embarrassment, chin tucking towards your chest. “I-I’m sorry. I forgot about that.” You shook your head. 

“It’s alright.” Eddie shrugged casually, his fingers loosening around the wheel. 

“No, that was weird of me.” You shook your head, hands rubbing down your face. “I watch too much Dateline.” You laugh softly. “It’s always the single girl in an apartment alone, y’know?” 

Eddie smirked. “Do I give off those creeper vibes?” His eyes cut to yours, longer than they should have, reading your reaction. “Bundy vibes or something?” 

“No,” Your laugh made him relax, exhaling slowly. “I’m just- I don’t know. I need medicated. I get, like, super worried about things sometimes.” You looked down at your nails, picking at the chipping polish. 

“No, that’s a good thing. Better to be careful.” Eddie nodded, turning into the apartment complex. “Ok, now I do need you to tell me which one. Left or right?” 

“I’m in the very back right.” You pointed through the rainy window, drizzle still steady. 

Eddie turned the wheel with his palm, slowing the van to a cruise through the parking lot. “Where does your friend live?” 

“Hm?” Eddie hummed, brow furrowed, looking over at you. 

“Your friend?” You pressed lightly. “You said he lives over here? Where, if you don’t mind me asking? I just… it would be nice to know someone just in case.” 

Eddie craned his head, heart thrumming in his chest rapidly. “He lives right there.” Eddie pointed, finger pressed to the window. “On the left side.” 

You nodded slowly, leaning forward, close enough that Eddie could smell your perfume. His head spinning, stilling entirely, scared to move and have you inch away. 

“But if you ever need anything,” Eddie followed your muttering of directions. “You can just call me. I don’t live too far.” 

“That’s sweet,” You smiled softly, turning so you were inches away from Eddie’s face. He hoped you couldn’t feel the heat radiating off his cheeks. “I don’t want to bother you, though.” 

“You’re not.” Eddie shook his head. “I promise. I’ll let you know if you bother me.” 

“Yeah?” You laughed, Eddie could feel your breath on his curls. 

“Yeah. Oh, yeah.” Eddie nodded, sliding into a parking space easily. “You’ll know.” 

You smiled, and for a moment, Eddie contemplated leaning forward, grabbing your face with his hands and kissing you. You moved before he could, unfastening your seat belt instead. Eddie tried to hide his huff of disappointment. 

Too slow, Munson, you’re always too fucking slow. 

“Well, thank you, again.” You reached for your purse, slipping your arm through the leather strap. “I really appreciate it.” 

“Any time.” Eddie’s fingers drummed on his denim clad thigh, desperately racking his brain for anything, anything to get you to stay. Even just for a second longer. 

“Enjoy your day off.” You smiled, the streetlights above you catching in your eyes. “You deserve it.” 

“Thanks.” Eddie gave a tight lipped smile, heart jumping when your fingers cradled around the door handle. “Wait-” Eddie’s voice was sharper than he meant, your head whipping around towards him. 

“Sorry,” Eddie blushed. “I just- You don’t close tomorrow, right?” Eddie asked, foot shaking by the brakes, the rumble of the engine vibrating the soles of his shoes.

“No, I’m an opener. I get off that four.” You smiled proudly. 

“Oh, well, I was thinking if, um,” Get it the fuck together, Munson. “If you’re not busy tomorrow after work, I- we could go to The Hideout?” 

You blinked. “I mean, I know we talked about it, and you said you’d never been. I’m not playing tomorrow, but I-I know the band that is. We could go and listen to the music, or just go and hang out. It’s really fun, really chill.” Eddie rambled. Chill? Who says chill? 

“If you want to.” Eddie blurted before you could reply. “I-I know you probably have plans, or something better to do-” 

“-No,” You shook your head, a smile spreading over your features, beaming as bright as the streetlamp about the two of you. “I mean, yes I want to go. No, I’m not busy.” You gave him a small, breathy laugh. 

“That sounds like fun.” Eddie was convinced it was a dream, the entire interaction. You in his van, agreeing to go out with him. His luck was finally changing, falling into place. 

“Yeah?” Eddie’s eyes were bright. “Yeah, I-I mean it will be. I promise.” His foot still shook. “I’ll pick you up.” 

“Yeah, that-that would be nice.” You beamed, heart fluttering with butterflies, tingling with excitement. 

“I can get you at seven? We can get there kinda early and get a good seat by the front if you want.” Eddie couldn’t help his smile, couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. 

“Sounds good.” You smiled. There was a pause, and you weren’t sure why, what came over you when you leaned forward, lips pressing in a soft peck to Eddie’s cheek, soft over the crease of his dimples. 

Eddie flushed, body burning, flaming with heat, he knew he wasn’t hiding. You grinned, a small giggle, bubbly like the two of you were in junior high, kissing behind the bleachers. 

“I-I’ll see you tomorrow.” You grinned, opening the door. Eddie nodded, eyes still wide, lovesick or maybe lovestruck- he couldn’t decide. 

“Thank you again!” You squeaked, shutting the door, scampering to your door. You turned, waving at him before pushing the door open, slipping inside. 

Eddie sat, in a daze, head foggy, blinded with a rush of emotions. He could feel your lips on his cheek, a light tingling imprinted onto his skin. 

He’d nearly ruined it, fucked it all up before it even began. He wouldn’t let that happen, couldn’t be careless like before. 

Eddie pulled out of the parking spot, the light from your bedroom catching his eye in the rearview as it flickered on, blinds wide open. For someone who watches so much Dateline, you should know better. 

Eddie’s stomach turned, foot pressing into the gas, halting in front of another complex. Eddie turned, adjusting the rear view mirror so he could see you. Maybe you hadn’t left it open. His mind swam, flooded with fear. He couldn’t live with himself if something happened. 

Just a quick check. Make sure she’s alright, and then leave. It won’t be like last time. 

Eddie let the van roll to a stop, cutting the headlights before killing the ignition. A steady stream of rain drummed on the roof of the van, melodic and calming. Eddie reached in his pocket, holding your yellow scrunchie. The thing that had nearly blown his whole plan. He swiped it from your locker four days ago, held it close to his nose that night, hand wrapped around his shaft, eyes fluttering closed, breathing in your scent and imagining what it would be like if you were there instead. 

Eddie closed his fist around the silk, tucking it back in his pocket, reaching for his leather jacket, thrown over the back seat. An old Yankees cap, navy and worn in the floor of the van’s trunk. Eddie slipped the cap over his curls, pulling the brim low, zipping his jacket up. 

Hands in his pocket, Eddie scanned around him. Nobody out to see him, catch him like last time and stop him. He wouldn’t let them even if they tried. Not this time. 

The rain beat off Eddie’s shoulders, repelling off the leather of his jacket, wetting the ends of his curls. A final look over his shoulder, and Eddie was slinking back towards the wet brick of the opposite unit. Shuffled side steps, creeping closer and closer into the dark, angling himself to see your window. 

He stilled, pressed fully to the brick, when your figure fluttered out of the corner of the window. Eddie watched the steam roll, following you out of the bathroom in a cloud, a towel wrapped around you, another in your hair. Toothbrush lazily scrubbing inside your mouth, flicking on the TV in your room. 

She’s safe, now leave. Leave. Eddie’s mind screamed, but his feet were cemented in place. Hidden in the dark shadows, drawn to you like a moth to a flame, the light luring him though he stayed still. 

You disappeared, Eddie watched you in the large mirror above your vanity. 

Now, go now. Before she sees you. She’s going to see you. 

The pounding in Eddie’s ears roared over the falling rain, deafening. Still, he stayed. Frozen in fear, maybe instinct. 

When you returned, dropping your towel, kicking it to the corner of the room, Eddie was glad he stayed. Eyes wide, willing himself not to blink. He didn’t want to miss a second, not a single one. Your bare figure, better than his own imagination could curate. Soft edges and curves that Eddie couldn’t wait to feel. How jealous he was of your hands, smoothing the Avon body lotion over your shins, up your thighs. 

What he would do to be the one doing that instead, his mind fading, slipping into his imagination. Inside your bedroom, instead of out, pressing soft kisses to your freshly lotioned shoulders, nose trailing along your soft skin. He wondered how you’d feel in his arms, letting yourself relax in his touch. 

Eddie’s fantasies were halted when you moved to the vanity, snapping back to his cruel reality, a jolt of icy cold fear dumped into his veins. He could see himself in your mirror, the very corner. You bent down, picking up your comb and he took his chance, stepping back, hidden from your gaze, only a sliver of you to be seen, when you’d tilt your head a certain way to blow dry your hair. 

Eddie stood, cold puffs of air clouding around his nose, clutching the switchblade in his jacket pocket every time he heard the smallest rustle. Ready to attack, to do anything he could to keep from being caught. He couldn’t ruin this, lose you before he ever truly got you. He was so close, so close.  

Your light didn’t turn off, the same warm glow spilled out from your window, rain beating against the glass. Eddie’s feet ached, heart rate stroke level high. “Shit, shit, shit.” Eddie muttered, carefully stepping back towards the window.

 You were no longer at the vanity, instead on your stomach, painting your nails at the end of the bed. Not red, from what Eddie could see- black. His lips curled. He liked to think you were doing this for him, for tomorrow, to match his dark and moody attire. 

Eddie army crawled under your window, holding his breath when he passed under your window sill. He could hear the muffled sound of the TV- Dateline. You really should know better. Eddie would make sure to tell you that when he finally got inside, make sure to put in blinds and curtains for you. 

His jaw flexed at the thought of someone trying to hurt you, someone else watching you. Watching you to harm you, not keep you safe like Eddie. The thought nearly had him staying in his van, parking closer and keeping watch through the night. He decided against it, the risk of nodding off and you seeing him there stronger than his want to stay. 

Instead, Eddie pulled out of the parking lot, watching your window in the rearview mirror of his van as he drove away. 

“Morning.” You sang, a skip in your step that you couldn’t hide, punching your card with glee, putting it in the assigned pocket. 

“Good mornin’ to you, Sunshine.” Brenda grinned, brows raised at your cheery demeanor, running the price gun over the new cassettes. “What’s got you so happy on a Friday morning?” She snorted lightly. 

“Mm, nothing.” You hummed, twisting the metal lock around. You were getting better at it, thanks to Eddie. He’d helped you the first few times. Tricky things, he’d told you with a half smile. 

“Nothing?” Brenda sang, a playful mocking tone that had you blistering in heat. “You’re just that excited to stock tapes all day? That’s it?” 

“Yeah.” You snorted lightly, pulling the lock open, wrangling it out of the metal hold of your locker. “No, I…” You spun the lock in your hand. “I’m going on a date tonight.” 

“Oh?” Brenda’s brows raised. 

You nodded. “Yeah. With, uh, with Eddie, actually.” Your heart fluttering in your chest, bubbly and excited. 

“Oh, really?” Brenda laughed, putting her hands on her hip, pricing gun still in head. “Well, that makes more sense then.” 

You frowned. “What?” 

Brenda shook her head, kicking the box lightly with her foot. “That boy,” She snorted lightly. “He called my phone night before last, all crazy, I thought he’s been hurt or somethin’. Askin’ me to switch shifts with him last night.” 

You paused, stilling. “H-He did?” You squeaked, hand closing around the lock tightly. 

“Yeah,” Brenda smiled. “I mean, I was a little confused why he’d want to work a closing over an open, ‘specially with all the shifts he’s been picking up. But I thought, hey, none of my business. Maybe he needs the money.” She held her hands up playfully. “This makes me feel better, though.” 

You twisted the lock nervously in your hands. “It does?” 

“Yeah.” Brenda looked at you. “He just likes you. Wanted to take you out. Probably scared I’d tell you or somethin’, you know how he is.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “He gets a little paranoid about things. Dramatic, that one.” 

Your stomach turned, sharp and twisting. “But-But Eddie, he wouldn’t, like, he’s a good guy?” You asked. “I mean, he seems like a good guy, but you-you know him better than I do.” 

“I’ve known Ed since he was a little boy.” Brenda waved you off, her flippant tone made you feel better somehow. “I used to date his uncle, actually. Wayne started taking care of Eddie when we were together. He was wild, I’ll tell ya. But the sweetest kid. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.” 

“Right.” You nodded, swallowing down your nerves. “Right, I- I’m just not from here, ya know? I get kinda…” You waved your hands, slinging your purse in your locker. “I also get paranoid.” 

“A good match then.” Brenda grinned. “You’ll have fun with him. If he doesn’t treat you right, you let me know. I’ll tell his uncle and he’ll handle him, alright?” Her eyes shone in a playful way, comforting. Soothing your nerves with a warm smile.

You were anxious, and why wouldn’t you be? You hadn’t been out on a date since you moved to Hawkins. 

Since you left your hometown. 

Since you left him. 

You swallowed, shaking it from your mind. You wouldn’t let him ruin this for you, wouldn’t let your mind consume itself. Eddie’s locker was just above yours, a plethora of stickers- Metallica, Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, and so many more all collaged together. Some peeling, overlapping and covering the others. Right in the middle, a bright, smiley face sticker. You’d given it to him last week, the grocer at Melvald’s snuck one in your bag. 

“I brought it for your sticker collection.” You had grinned at Eddie, waving the yellow sticker around playfully. You hadn’t expected him to put it right in the middle of his collaged locker. 

It was sweet. A simple, sweet, silly gesture that had you giggly and blushy for the rest of your shift. 

You pinned your badge to the inside of your shirt, letting the metal back snap into your soft cotton, pushing out the back doors and towards the register, letting your mind drift into daydreams about tonight. About Eddie, while you straightened the tapes on the front table. 

A ringed hand gripping the plastic cup, warm from the coffee inside, Eddie sipped slowly, eyes trained on the corner. He waited, parked and hidden behind the row of bushes in front of McDonald’s, hoping it would camouflage his van enough. 

His breath hitched, strangling the liquid in his throat when a figure rounded the corner. Your hair was down today, freshly styled, and you had gone without your white Keds. Eddie’s heart bubbled, fluttered to life with a soaring warmth. Your nails were painted black, he could see it as you got closer on the sidewalk, shrinking in his seat, peering just over the steering wheel to track you until you got to the store. 

When you slipped into the door, safely inside Turtle’s, Eddie geared into reverse. Van rolling steady back towards Magnolia Place. 

“It’s always the single girl in an apartment alone, y’know?”

Your voice rang in his head, a rhythmic melody that lured him into a trance, tunnel visioned all the way back to your apartment doorstep. The flathead screwdriver and allen wrench heavy in his pocket, clammy palms wrapped around them. 

As much as he hated his father, cursed and blamed him for the way he was, every hardship he’d endured, he did have to thank him for making him resilient. Al had passed on more than just his wild curls to Eddie. He’d given him his resourcefulness, taught him. Eddie thanked Al, wherever he was, when the door clicked open. 

Your apartment smells exactly like how he thought, looked exactly how he imagined. A hodgepodge of second hand furniture, throw pillows and blankets neatly folded and placed on the patterned couch. Your shoes kicked in a pile by the door, your white Keds amongst them. 

Eddie crouched down, cradling the shoe in his hand. The small speck of dirt splattered on the sides from your walk to work yesterday, an imprint of your foot molded into the sole. 

Eddie let himself wander around the small space- your space. He hoped he’d be back tonight, invited in this time, but in case he didn’t, he just needed a look. To see the full thing, to see how you lived, feel closer to you any way he can. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to know everything about you, every single thing. 

Your perfume taunted him from the vanity, clouded his mind the very same way it did when he smelled it on you, catching whiffs when you’d walk past. Eddie drenched the edge of his band tee, saturated it in your perfume. For later, when his mind would wander back to you, when he’d miss you, when he’d long to smell you. 

Stacks of photos lined the vanity, a man and woman donning similar features to your own. Even when you were younger, you always had the same smile, bright and warm. Your towel still kicked in the corner of the room from the night before, bed sheets crumpled from sleep. Eddie’s hand slid across the crinkled cotton, he hoped they’d still be warm. 

Next to your sink, a bottle of purple acetone, red soaked cotton pads in the trash. A small tray of nail polishes next to that, pushed into the corner, every color imaginable- including the red. The same red you wore when Eddie met you. That you kept painting over for the following days until you finally gave up, let it chip away. 

His mind screamed, roared at him not to. That you would know. 

I’ll give it back. I’ll give it back when she invites me over. She’ll never know. 

Eddie plucked the Revlon bottle out of the group, pushing the others back into place, pocketing it. 

Ok, that’s enough. Enough. You’re gonna get caught. It’s going to be Chrissy- No, no, don’t fucking even compare her to that sick- 

Eddie’s mind spiraled, pulling deeper and deeper into himself, a white knuckled grip on the counter, eyes crossing in a hazy daze, foggy and distorted. A familiar buzz ringing through his ears, a roar of static, heart hammering so fast he was sure it wasn’t beating at all. Flashes of memories he’d tried to forget, beat his head against a wall and knock them out, unforgiving and rapid. 

A sliver of purple peeking out of your wickered hamper halted those hauntings just as quickly as they’d begun. Carelessly thrown on top, Eddie’s vision honing in through the mirror. The same lavender thong that had teased him the night before, consumed his thoughts later that night, hand pumping his cock, free hand holding your scrunchie to his nose, eyes screwed shut picturing- wishing it was you instead. 

I’ll bring it back. With the nail polish, she’ll never know. 

Eddie was nearly in a trance like state, swiping the panties off the top of the towels, shoving them in his pocket. He couldn’t- not here. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to contain himself. 

Instead, Eddie waited until he was back home, in the sanctuary of his trailer. Pulling the old, metal lunchbox off the top shelf of his closet, he sunk into the mattress. A treasure chest, filled with all his favorite things. All his memories of you. 

The scrunchie, a note you’d written him about an order signed with a heart before your name, your application he’d swiped off Mel’s desk after you got the job. It was small, smaller than Eddie would have liked but it was safer this way. The nail polish he tucked away, but the panties he kept out. 

Reaching for the Jergens by his bed, Eddie freed his length from his boxers, settling back against the headboard. Tail of his shirt tucked by his chin, the overwhelming scent of your perfume wafting up to him, dizzying his senses. Eddie sighed, free hand tugging at his shaft, relaxing into the pillows. 

He could see you, a fantasy that challenged his perception of reality, riding him soft and slow. Would you like it like that? Harder? Rougher? Sweeter? Him on top? Eddie’s mind flurried with worry, what if’s, pleasure simmering out slowly. 

Eddie blinked, a heavy lidded gaze landing on the panties in his hand. You flooded back to his mind, picturing you in your little panties, shy and bare before him. He swallowed down a groan, pushing the crotch of your panties to his nose. A pungent, spicy scent, swarming with something so intoxicating. Eddie whimpered, pushing the lavender panties further under his nose, suffocating himself nearly, but he didn’t mind. 

He hoped to have you in a different way, to experience you authentically later tonight. Even just to kiss you again, feel you again, his body ached for it. But for now, Eddie would suffice having you this way, his own little secret, a dark and twisted fantasy just for him. 

[alien-magnolia]

Older! Eddie Munson x hyperfeminine! housewife! Reader : quick headcanons/ideas <3

18+ MDNI

Tw: big, girthy age gap :) (early 40’s /early 20’s), service kink!, sub!-coded fem reader, dom-coded Eddie munson, leashes!, obedience!!, etc

——

——

Marrying Edward Munson was most likely the best milestone of your life. The dull and bitter taste of Hawkins, Indiana had become bright and full of color!!

Your Eds has bought you a quaint, small, yet spacious enough home, in which you decorated with beige tones and tropical accents — plants, gold, mirrored walls, and topped it all off with a wooden kitchen. He provided for you as well, spending the usual nine to five workday facing the elements as a local construction worker. At exactly 5:10 each evening, he would come home to greet his babygirl. You were ever so ready!

He comes through the door, sawdust covered boots sprinkling dirt on the fuzzy carpet. You rush up to greet him, and you were met with a “hey babydoll,” and a swift strong arm picking you up to his lap.

With you clinging onto him like a little koala, he undresses his clothes, and then puts on a loose muscle tee with boxers <3!

“ how’s my little girl doing today, hmm? Tell me, doll,” a prompt from him was all it took for you to enthusiastically describe your day!! His patronizing smile made your “little kitty” as he called it, gush!!

You tell him about your cooking, your laundry, and how much you missed him, your daddy <3!

“Missed you too. How’s about your daddy shows you how much he missed his doll?,” his hairy forearms and calloused fingers grip your plush waist so tightly. He pulls you into his lap, and you feel his throbbing bulge press up against your mound. “Wet f’me?,” he taunts. You nod, your manicured hands clawing up his wide back and shoulders.

“Babygirl needs her leash and collar, yeah?,” he tuts at you, putting them on. His calloused fingers grab the O ring in the center of your collar, pulling the leash a bit. “There we go, sweets. Ready for daddy to play with. <3”

You could only drool and nod!

Your pretty tits pressed up against his hairy chest, his so so masculine hands squeezing your soft belly and hips until it HURT, and you rocking yourself on his bulge.

One thing you loved about Eddie, was that he was big. He was around five inches yes, but in width, goodness <3 it hurt to take him every time! He was wider than your hand, and would tut at you everytime your pretty pussy took that wide cock and huge balls of his.

So here you were, doing just that, clinging onto him, whining, as his girthy length stuffed you full. Belt buckle on the floor, your plush thighs against his tatted ones, his ringed hand on your ankle, which had a little ‘E’ tattoo on it.

Eddie actually gave you the tattoo himself, a few months ago, gently holding your ankle while working on the tattoo. You said it hurt but your Eds kept praising you for being so brave! <3 After he bandaged your new initial tattoo, he gave you your reward for being his “brave girl,” which was his cock stuffing you full for hours on end. <3

“Pussy’s just purring f’me, sweetheart. Look at that. She loves my cock, doesn’t she now?,” Eddie cooed at you as he bounced you on his girth. You could only whine and nod as you felt his balls, heavy and full, plap’ and slap against your wet cunt.

He came in you, of course, because you were his. The tattoo, the ring, the leash and collar, the part where he breeds his little wife, all signs that you belonged to him. You loved being his pretty little wife, spending the days at home, waiting for her husband.

It was all worth the wait <3

A/n: tysm for reading! If you like it pls comment or reblog it means a lot to me <3 -Liz

[angelltheninth]

NSFW Masterlist Part 7

DC COMICS

Friends with Benefits with Hal Jordan

Jason Todd Gets Jealous and Fucks You in an Alleyway

Conner Kent x Fem!Reader - Principle of the Thing

Clark Kent x Fem!Reader - A Needed Confidence Boost

Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader - Hold the Popcorn

Friends with Benefits with Bruce Wayne

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader - Those Who Meet in the Shadows

MCU

Matt Murdock Gets Dirty in a Church

Logan Howlett when You're a Bimbo and Cockdrunk

King Valkirie - If All of the Kings Had Their Queens on the Throne

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader - Negotiation Tactic

MCU Characters Being Caught Masturbating

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader - Please, Say Please

ARCANE

Viktor, Jayce, Ekko and Silco Get a Boner in Public

Arcane Women with a Packer

Sub!Amab!Sevika + Cock Riding

Viktor x Fem!Reader - Lesson Learned

Arcane Men + Passionate, Sensual, Intense or Rough

Arcane Women with a Camgirl Reader

CHAINSAW MAN

Chainsaw Man Quartet Goes Feral on You

Chainsaw Man Quartet Eating You Out

Chainsaw Man Quartet Playing with You Under the Table

Aki Hayakawa Being Your Sex Summer Tutor

BLUE LOCK

Fuckboy Reo Hooks Up with You

Chigiri, Kunigami and Reo Reacting to Your New Swimsuit

Bondege with Mikage Reo

Bachira Denying You Pleasure

Using the Safe Word with Isagi, Kunigami, Kaiser and Shidou

Dry Humping with Rin, Kaiser, Karasu and Nagi

Blue Lock + Threesomes

GENSHIN IMPACT

Al-Haitham Fucking You While Kaveh is in the House

Genshin Men Get A Boner in Public

Childe x Fem!Reader - A Bet and a Prize

Genshin Men when You Confess in the Middle of Sex

Bath Sex with Thoma and Ayato

Things Genshin Men Enjoy in Bed

Genshin Men Doing You Better Then Your Ex

Forced Proximity with Genshin Men

Poly Relationship with Thoma and Ayato

Zhongli x Fem!Reader - The Morax Punishment

Make Up Sex with Genshin Men

Kaeya x Fem!Reader - How Long Can You Go

Interrupted Masturbation with Childe

Genshin Men Fucking You So Hard You Can't Walk

Hate Sex with Genshin Men

Faking an Orgasm with Genshin Men

Scaramouche and Pantalone as Vampires

Diluc x Fem!Reader - Unhelpful Help

STAR WARS

Wrecker x Afab!Reader - Getting Wreckered

Trapped in a Small Space with Din Djarin

Darth Maul x Fem!Reader - Clamming the Throne

The Bad Batch + Soft Sex

AVATAR

Jake Sully x Fem!Reader - Tails, Growls and Arousal

Tonowari Facesitting Headcanons

Avatar Men Getting Praised During Sex

Avatar Men and Their Weak Spots

Friends with Benefits with Avatar Men

Jake Sully x Fem!Reader - Newbie Mating Cycle

TWISTED WONERLAND

Trey and Cater Using a Vibrator on You

Deuce Spade x Fem!Reader - Vows on Devoted Lips

Floyd Leech x Fem!Reader - You'll Remember You Belong to Me

Twisted Wonderland Dorm Leaders + Clothing That Turns Them On

STRANGER THINGS

Eddie Making You Clean Him Up After Sex

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader - High and Horny

Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader - The Child Support Charade

Stranger Things Men + Where They Like to Cum on Your Body

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader - Gatekeeper to My Heart

KIMETSU NO YAIBA

Being Douma's Pretty New Maid

Karaku Giving You Oral

Fingerwarming with Tengen Uzui

BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA

Bakugo Grinding Against You Behind the Gym

Bakugo + Bimbofication

BNHA Men Having Sex For the First Time

Husband!Shoto Gets a Blowjob From His Shy Wife

Stalkers Izuku and Dabi Finally Get what They Wanted

Tomura Shirigaki x Fem!Reader - Where Pleasure Hides

JUJUTSU KAISEN

Enemies to Lovers with Toji Fushiguro

Gojo x Fem!Reader x Geto - Threeway Fun Between Friends

Sukuna x Fem!Reader - Double Duty for the Demon King

Jujutsu Kaisen Men When You're So Full Their Cum Spills Out

Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader - Stop the Clock

Toji Fushiguro Being Your Pervy Neighbor

Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader - Better Than Shower Thoughts

Geto Suguru + Sex Pollen

TRIGUN

NSFW Headcanons with Vash and Nicholas

Praise and Mirror Sex with Vash

Service Top Vash

Vash, Nicholas and Millions Knives + Cum Shot

NSFW Headcanons with Millions Knives

Vash Being a Sloppy Eater

Vash, Nicholas and Millions Knives + Sex Pollen

Being Vash's First Time

CALL OF DUTY

Virginity Loss Blurb with Simon

Task Force 141 + Spots That Turn Them On

Cleaning Up with Simon

Simon "Ghost" Riley + Touch Me and You Lose

Simon and König Want to Go All Night With You

A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE

Virginity Loss with Daemon, Aemond and Harwin

Silent Blowjobs with Daemon, Aemond and Harwin

Messy Affair with Harwin Strong

[carolmunson]

spin doctor | e.m. x reader

mini ficlet, eddie munson works at a record store. he’s a little snobby. sort of shy!reader if you squint? it’s the very late 90s.

tw: 18+ references to smut/virginity, all around meet-cute-ish.

The rain slaps off the top of your coffee cup and into your eyes while you take a sip, woefully regretting not bringing an umbrella because the weather man said it was only misting. This isn't mist, this is just under a downpour, the hood of your dad's old canvas jacket doing little to protect you from the rain while it darkens with each drop the green fabric absorbs. You stop at the corner, protecting yourself from the weather under the awning of a laundromat. Squinting up towards the overcast gray sky, you double check the cross streets, two more blocks and you'll make it there. There being the record store that you found in the yellow pages after you inherited your parent's record player in their latest attic clean out. Your dad was smart though, sold all of the records that were in mint condition to collecters -- which left you recordless and sort of at a loss of where to start now that they were only sold at specialty stores.

You hurry your way down the next two blocks, finally seeing the sign for VI Chord Records lit up across the street in buzzing red neon. You wait to cross, seeing the reflection of the light in the wet asphalt while the sky starts to darken. Winter easing in slow these days while the nights start to come quicker than expected.

The door jingles when you open it, two guys at the check out counter looking up breifly and then back to their conversation; the other patrons don't even look. You take a breath, happy that at least no one is paying attention. You've never been to a record store before -- bought music, sure; CDs and cassettes but never vinyl -- that was like an old people thing. But your dad couldn't stop going on and on about how music just sounds better when you listen to it like that; and to be fair a lot of your favorites from the 60s and 70s sounded flat on your Walkman. You were on the hunt for the authentic experience now, the real deal.

You start at the 'New Arrivals' bin, pulling down your hood and taking off your headphones to put in your nylon back pack while you search. You sip your coffee while your fingers flick, flick, flick through the sleeves, crunching on and over the plastic protective covering of each record. You don’t know who most of the artists are, names hidden in intricate artwork or vulgar close ups of tits and crotch. You laugh at a few under your breath.

You continue your search, going over to the K section to see if you can find Carole King’s Tapestry, only to be inundated with Kiss record after Kiss record. Kix, Krokus, Kick Axe — King nowhere in the bunch. You let out a soft sigh, eyes scanning the back wall over the guys heads at the check out counter. Guitars hang on the velvet wall paper, gleaming with a fresh sign with scribbles of signatures on them. You land over by the S section, fingers flick flick flicking again to run into Slayer, T’s taken over by Twisted Sister. You don’t even realize how much time has gone by until you take a sip of coffee and nothing is left.

“Can I help you find something?”

You jump, not expecting to head a disembodied voice by the back of your neck, “Huh?”

“You just seem like you’re not finding what you’re looking for, can I help?”

You turn while he asks, one of the guys from the counter who looks like he’s stuck somewhere in the 80s and his grunge phase. His hair is to his shoulders, wavy and cut into a shag that put your moms 70s hair do to shame. The slight stubble on his chin and cheeks stretches with his smile — customer service perfection, but only for pretty things like you.

His crosses his arms over his army green tee, matching your coat that’s nearly dry now. His tattooed arms bulge slightly in the stance, straining against the small sleeves. Your eyes focus on the guitar pick dangling in the center of his chest; suddenly embarrassed by the attention.

“Um,” you start, eyes flicking up to meet his brown ones — soft and eager, like he’s excited to talk to you. Your eyes scan down to the black and gray flannel tied around his narrow waist, falling limply over his dark wash worn jeans into combat boots.

“Uh,” you stutter for a second, trying to not to get caught up in this handsome stranger, “I’m sorta new to records. My dad just gave me his but he sold all his good stuff so um — starting from zero I guess.”

“Ooh, nice,” he grins, “So a virgin, huh?”

You sputter, “Well um — no but —”

“Vinyl virgin, sweetheart,” he winks, “Don’t worry. I don’t need to know the horny details.”

“So what were you trying to find today?” he asks, leaning against the stacked milk crates full to the brim at the center of the room, “We actually just got some solid rares in if you’re trying to start a good collection.”

“I just wanna listen to oldies,” you laugh.

He laughs too, it’s smoky and cool, “Nah, nah, I hear you. What kinda oldies like — early Black Sabbath or…?”

You bite your lower lip, “I was more thinking like um, Motown? The Temptations? Maybe some James Taylor. I was mostly trying to find The Flamingos single for —”

He laughs while you continue on but then realizes you aren’t joking, head coming back to center, “Oh you’re, you’re serious?”

You feel heat lick at your cheeks and chest, sweat slickly creeping on the top of your back, “Yeah I thought…it’s a record store so—”

“Not that kind, princess,” he shrugs, hands dropping to lean against the crates behind him, “We only sell hard rock and metal here for the most part. You could check the dollar bins for drop offs, we don’t really sort those.”

“Oh,” you nod, averting his gaze while you see the big bin in the corner labeled ‘Dollar Donations’.

“Yeah maybe you’ll find your doo-wop stuff in there or something,” his voice has a hint of teasing to it that makes your teeth grit.

“Are you like, shitting on me?” you ask shakily, kind of surprised this is actually happening to you. That this guys is legitimately being a jerk over wanting music that maybe he’s not into.

“No, no, no,” he urges, “No. I’m sorry, seriously. It’s just that we don’t really get people who come in here not looking for what we sell. We’re kinda well known for being a vintage metal store.”

“Yeah well, I didn’t know that so,” you shrug, defeated weighing down your shoulders.

“It’s okay,” he assures, sweet smile tugging his lips up to reveal deep dimples, “You’re a vinyl virgin, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” you roll your eyes, making your way to the bin while he follows behind you.

“Maybe if you tell me what kind of music you like now I can find a good one for you,” he offers, hand resting on his chest that’s covered in silver rings and chipped nail polish, “I’ve been told I make great recommendations.”

“I’ve been liking Blink-182 lately. Backstreet Boys on the other side of the coin,” you shrug, “And um, one of my friends has been trying to get me into Nine In Nails.”

“Now we’re talking,” he smiles, “There we go. Anything else? What’s the other older stuff you like?”

“Uh, um,” you shrug again, “Elton John? Eric Clapton?”

He nods again, “Okay, some of this stuff I can work with. What about uh, hmm, Fleetwood Mac? Sort of your vibe?”

You smile at him without meaning to, making him nearly stutter at the site, “Yeah, that’s sort of my vibe.”

“Alright,” he nods while he racks his brain for the perfect album to pick for you, “I think I got an idea of what to pull for you.”

“Okay,” you cross your arms with a smirk, “Fine. I hope it’s impressive.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he grins cockily, “Never had anyone complain about me popping their cherry.”

“At least take a girl for a drink first,” you joke back, “I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m Eddie,” his hand extends out and you take it, his skin warm and slightly clammy at his never ending bumbling when talking to girls like you, “Happy to be taking your vinyl virginity today.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand slightly when you introduce yourself before letting go, “Be gentle, please. I’m new to this.”

“C’mon,” he cocks his head to the opposite wall by the ‘F’ section, “I got a lot to show you. We’ll go slow.”

He winks again; making you swallow hard. It might not have been where you meant go today, but it might have been exactly where you were meant to be.

[muertawrites]

I Know What Those Stains Are (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: i feel like robin’s face explains it all, really

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: PG-13 references to s*x and dr*gs, Robin being the best worst friend (ilhsm), pure shenanigans, harsh language in the author’s note bc i’m a motherfucking lady and you bitches can’t do shit about it

Author’s Note: this ended up longer than i thought it would but it was worth it tbh. i stg dissociating with eddie munson-colored glasses on is the only thing keeping me sane right now. i’m so fucking depressed. pray for me to finish my masters dissertation and immediately fuck right out of the shithole i’m stuck in to the life i fucking deserve ✌🏻

"Eddie has these... weird stains on his sheets."

Robin stares at you pointedly from the other side of your kitchen island, her lips curled into a tiny, knowing smirk.

Damn her and her privileged security clearance.

Being best friends ("We're soulmates," Robin always insists) means you have a pact - top secret information is kept closely between you, nothing held back or excluded. She'd come out to you before she even came out to her parents because she knew you wouldn't be weird about it. Your relationship is one of pure, unadulterated, platonic adoration, which means everything is safe.

And is exactly why she's pried about your "friendship" (as she refers to it, always with air quotes) with Eddie Munson since the two of you started hanging out a little over a year ago. He fixed your car at a steep discount when it needed emergency service; when you ran into him at one of his shows the following week, you bought him a drink to thank him, and the rest is history.

"I've never been in his room so I wouldn't know," you lie.

Robin laughs.

"You call me from his place once a week," she retorts. "It's a suspicious amount of time to spend with the local pot dealer for someone who freaks out with even the slightest contact high."

"I told you, he's just nice," you groan. "What's so bad about me hanging out with a nice guy? You've seen the guys I usually get caught up with, and you have to admit, Eddie's a huge improvement."

Robin snaps her attention back to you, eyes wide and smile wider as she freezes over the popcorn she's watching on the stove.

"So you admit it," she says. "He's... a guy... and he’s... huge..."

She waggles her eyebrows. You grab a marshmallow from the open pack on the counter and lob it at her, smacking her right between the eyes.

"He's a boy that I'm friends with," you correct her. "That doesn't make him my boyfriend."

"Does this friendship come with a benefits package?"

She gives you bedroom eyes over her shoulder, taunting you. You stare back at her, expressionless.

"You went into an alternate dimension," you comment, "and all you can think to talk to me about are Eddie Munson’s sheets. Unbelievable."

"You also went into that dimension," Robin reminds you. "There's nothing I can say that you haven't already seen. You guys have just gotten a lot closer since we all saved the world together, and I was just... wondering."

She shrugs like it means nothing as she transfers the popcorn from its pan into a bowl, but her cheeky gaze through her lashes at you tells you otherwise.

She totally knows. She's just waiting for you to admit it.

The rumble of an engine outside cuts your conversation short, the familiar clunk of a door slamming shut making your heart leap into your throat. Robin notices the tiny change in your expression, how your eyes light up the moment the van rolls into your driveway, and her smirk grows all the more sinister.

"Prince Charming has arrived," she teases.

You aggressively ignore her as Eddie's heavy footsteps ring down the hall, the man himself appearing moments later. You're thankful when he refrains from kissing you on the cheek, as he usually does the second he’s close enough. 

"Hey!" he greets you both, slapping a large hand on your shoulder in an entirely friendly, totally unromantic display of affection. Robin isn't immune to the way his hand stays there, migrating to the back of your neck, his thumb tenderly stroking at your skin.

"What brings you over, party crasher?" she wonders.

"Oh, just dropping off a mixtape."

He slips the cassette smoothly into your hand, which you cover up with the sleeve of your sweatshirt before Robin has a chance to glimpse what's on the label.

"Mind if I grab a beer?" Eddie asks. "Partake in some popcorn?"

"You're gonna do it anyway, so go crazy," you reply.

He grins sweetly at you, giving your bum an appreciative squeeze below the counter where Robin can't see it.

"Too late!"

He bounds out of the room, disappearing into the living room with a Bud Lite and a fistful of popcorn in his hand. Your “girls only” movie night has just become a “girls only plus Eddie” one. 

The air in the room grows tense. You stand perfectly still, both you and Robin staring each other down, waiting to see who’ll speak first. Her gaze is smoldering, burning into yours with ruthless intention. 

“Didn’t know you guys had an open doors policy,” she finally notes. “It’s all very... interesting.” 

She slowly starts to stalk around the corner of the island, trailing her hand nonchalantly (or what she thinks is nonchalantly) across the countertop. You back up, taking one step for each of hers, knowing exactly what she’s about to do. 

That still doesn’t stop you from shrieking as she jumps you, her hands snatching at the cassette tape now tucked inside your sweatshirt sleeve. 

“Robin, you’re acting totally feral!” you yell, trying in vain to keep her out of your shirt. 

She cackles as she wrestles the little rectangle of plastic from your grasp, shoving her hand into your face to keep you back as you claw at her. Her eyes widen and jaw drops as she reads the label, an incredulous laugh escaping her throat. 

“Songs We’re Gonna Bone To?!” she howls, reading the title aloud. “Oh my god, you guys made a mixtape to have sex to?! I knew it!” 

You cross your arms, pressing your lips harshly together as you glare at her, wishing you could make her head explode. 

“See, this is why I didn’t say anything,” you quip. “... And Eddie made it, not me.” 

Robin’s neck audibly cracks, she turns around so fast. She looks like a seven year old kid who’s just woken up on Christmas morning. 

“What’s on it?” she whispers. 

She’s out the door before you can answer, sprinting down the hall into your bedroom and smacking the tape inside your player so fast she’s little more than a blur. Queen’s Fat Bottomed Girls starts blaring from the speakers, causing a fierce blush to erupt across your cheeks. She slaps the skip button, moving on to KISS’s I Was Made For Lovin’ You, followed by Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me. You bury your face in your hand, entirely unable to meet her gaze as she savors your embarrassment. 

“What a massive cheese ball,” she chuckles. “Is the sex good, though? Like, he’s given you at least one orgasm, right?” 

You’re laying face down on your bed, craving the sweet release of death when Eddie appears in the doorway.

“Why the hell’s everyone screaming?” he questions, frantic. “Did another portal open up? Baby, are you okay?” 

“Aaaaaahhhh he calls you BABY!” Robin shrieks. She doubles over, collapsing to the floor in hysterical laughter.

You sit up, taking one of the pillows off your mattress and chucking it at Eddie. He catches it, just barely, stumbling backward in shock and confusion. 

“Change your fucking sheets, Munson!” 

🌹💀 get your eddie fix 💀🌹