Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy #1

Hey! I'm fully committing to the Eddie Munson sin bin. Read chapter 1 right here or on Ao3!!

Chapter One: Killer Queen

Summary:

Eddie just wants some new damn strings for his Fender.

You just want a relaxing shift at Greene's Bookstore.

Looks like no one is getting what they want today.

Eddie was having a shit day. First, he had used up the last of his stash without even realising (and his next drop wasn’t until next Wednesday), then he’d managed to snap his D string while practicing some fucking solo for Corroded Coffin, and then the damn guitar shop had been shut when he’d got there. At 2pm. On a Saturday.

What the fuck kind of guitar shop is shut on a Saturday??

Sure, usually he isn’t even awake at 2pm on a Saturday – and if he is, he sure as shit isn’t functional. But he’d promised the Hellfire kids that he’d have tonight’s session planned and ready to go and – though he knew exactly where he wanted to get them to – he sure as shit didn’t have any of it written down. Not to mention needing to plan backup plans B through Z just in case the little shits decided to go off on a frolic of their own instead of the very neatly laid out and obvious plot in front of them. There was really no telling how any given session would go.

What was he doing again?

Right. Music shop shut. What now? His feet just seemed to keep going, despite having no real destination. The chains on his denim jacket clink aesthetically as he saunters down the busy high-street. It’s really too hot to be wearing the jacket, but he’d be damned if he gave it up. Fuck it. Cold six pack from the corner shop and he’d go back home and knuckle down on planning this damn session. He had big plans for this campaign. His last quest before graduating (or getting kicked out).

His swaggered walk is interrupted rather abruptly when a young woman in a light chequered dress suddenly hops from a doorway in front of him. She stops and blushes profusely, a small stack of dime novels clutched to her chest. She manages to eek out an apology while he sweeps his arm out in an exaggerated motion to let her past. He catches the names Linda Howard and Jude Deveraux on the spine of the books she carries as she scurries away.

Curiosity piqued, he leans forward to see into the mystery doorway. The door is painted an emerald green, peeling at the edges, and is held open by a stack of ancient-looking hardback books. The equally ancient-looking wooden shelves that line the walls of the store are nearly bowing under the weight of stacks upon stacks of books. What wall space is not covered by the truly obscene number of books this store contains is plastered with framed pictures – portraits, landscapes, a taxidermied butterfly or two. There’s a heavy-looking, round table in the middle of the room, stacked high with dozens of paperbacks and hardcovers alike. The windows at the front of the store are partially covered by heavy swathes of a dark fabric. The store is cool, but warmly lit, and smells strongly of incense. A few thick carpets cushion his trademark white sneakers as he walks in. There’s a beanbag in the corner.

Behind an almost comically large and antiquated cash register sits a woman. She sits with her legs crossed on a bar stool, her floating foot bouncing rhythmically to a Queen song playing on a turntable in the corner. Killer queen, he thinks.

Eventually she looks up at him with a polite smile, “Can I help you, sir?”

You eye the guy who’s walked into your quaint little store. He looks thoroughly out of place. The dude is probably wearing more chains than fabric. He doesn’t say anything – yet – just stands and looks around with wide eyes. You collect the small stack of dime novels the young lady (Tanya, her name was. Lovely girl.) hadn’t bought from the front desk, and busy yourself with slipping them onto one of the higher shelves – away from any young kids’ prying eyes.

He eventually tilts his head towards you from where he’s scanning one of your bookshelves, scruffy long hair following his movement like a paid actor, “Yeah. You sell any real books or is it just the uh… smut?” Oh, you already don’t like him. He looks far too pleased with himself. Stupid smug look pulling his lips into a lopsided grin. It’s almost familiar – that smile, and those eyes.

“We cater to all tastes and interests here at Greene’s, sir,” you respond dryly, slotting the last of the paperbacks into the, frankly, stuffed shelf and turn to face your new customer with your best customer service grin, “Are you looking for something more romantic, perhaps? Or will the smut do?”

Your goading only serves to broaden that boyish grin, it meets his round eyes and—

Oh.

You totally knew this guy. This royal pain in your ass. This motherfucker. With his stupid brown eyes and, honestly, ridiculous band shirts.

“Eddie.”

It’s not a question – it doesn’t need to be. You definitely know him. This dick would beg you for answers in English and science, then – then!! – have the sheer audacity to commandeer whatever classroom, drama studio or back office you had booked for your writing club just to move his god damn Dungeons and Dragons game in.

He-

He’s even wearing the dumb fucking shirt.

He… looks puzzled.

“Have we… met?”

Lord help you not commit murder in this bookstore today.

You stare at him blankly, half expecting this to be some joke. Nope? Great. Fine. You turn back to your shelves and pretend to be busy organising the mess of paperbacks, “Something like that.”

He tucks his hands into the pockets of his skinny jeans (how he has the space to even fit them in there with the way the denim clings to his legs like a second skin – you have no idea) and takes a few slow, meandering steps towards you, “So I don’t even get a name? A hint maybe?”

“A… hint.” You try not to sound slightly pissed. You fail. You blame it on this book that simply refuses to go in its place.

“Sure. You clearly know who I am - yet I have no idea who you are. A tragedy if I may say so. One that I would very much like to rectify.” He leans one shoulder against the shelf to your right, hands still wedged into his pockets, all charm and wit. When had he gotten so confident?

And is… is he trying to flirt with you? Hell no. Hell. No. Absolutely not – not Eddie fucking Munson. The guy who once nearly choked on a fucking plectrum after carrying it around in the corner of his mouth all day to try and seem all cool and metal in eighth grade. You spent near a goddamn hour with him at the damn nurse’s office and missed a whole class on tectonic plates.

“Clearly not tragic enough for you to remember my damn name the first time around, Munson,” you snip back, “Shouldn’t you be playing knights and monsters somewhere?”

He almost rises to the bait. Almost. It was always a sure-fire way to derail him – misquote some lore or spout some nonsense about his fantasy game and he’d sit and prattle away at you, spilling facts and anecdotes like a broken faucet. Instead, he watches you walk stiffly back to your high stool behind the cash register and leans his elbows on some books stacked precariously high on the centre table. He leans his chin on one hand, continuing to watch you in that infuriating way.

“No. No I’d definitely remember you, so how…” he squints, deep in thought for a second, then something seems to click:

“You been stalking me, pretty girl?”

This time it’s your turn to choke.

You splutter at his jab – you’re not sure which you’re more offended by, the stalking accusation, his use of ‘pretty girl’, or the fact he still can’t remember your damn name. He’s got that glint in his eye. That one where he’s pulled off some clown act just for laughs – you saw it often in middle school.

“I- Of course not, Munson,” you glare back at him. God, you hope you aren’t red right now. Your face sure feels hot enough for it, “If you aren’t going to buy something, then leave.”

“Hey now, hey. I’m sorry, was that too far?” He backtracks softly, hands raised in front of him placatingly. The asshole even seems sincere about it. Weirdo.

Then, something clicks again – you can almost hear the cogs turning in his mind – and he cuts you off before you even get a chance to respond.

“Oh! Oh, shit, it’s you! The uh- the um… the book club girl!”

Great.

He has one hand pressed to his forehead, the other outstretched, alternating between frantic clicking and pointing as he desperately tries to remember your damn name. It’s almost painful to watch. He struggles for another few seconds, even starting to bounce on his heels amidst all the hmm’s and uh’s. You decide to put him out of his misery, biting your own name out from behind clenched teeth and crossed arms.

He throws both hands up dramatically, “Of course! God! How could I forget. Y’know, I think you single-handedly got me through ninth grade by letting me copy off you in all of Ms Davis’ quizzes.”

You arch a brow at him, “No shit Eddie. I don’t think I ever saw you write anything down. Ever.”

He laughs boisterously, “Yeah! I still don’t.” His laugh simmers down to that ever-present grin, “So hey, what are you doing here? I thought you’d have gone out of state for college the second you graduated.”

You fight off a wince, “Well. Plans change.”

He waits for you to elaborate. You don’t.

“Very cryptic! I like it!” He carries on grinning, unperturbed by your loaded response, “So hey, got any recommendations? I’m thinking fantasy, but nothing too heavy or, y’know, smutty, can’t be blushing like a fair maiden in chemistry.”

Damn. Damn. Your one weakness. You love giving book recommendations – and he even seems sincere about wanting your opinion – even if he is making a joke out of it.

Fuck it. “Wasn’t aware that you could even read, Munson.”

He looks giddy as you get to your feet – despite your jab at his ability.

“Well, I thought you could teach me Beauty-and-the-Beast-style sometime. Until then at least I can look at the pictures.” He quips back, undeterred. He even throws in a wink at you (which you steadfastly roll your eyes at) when you make eye contact with him.

“Didn’t know you’d become a wit either.” You snipe dryly – though there’s no real venom behind it anymore. You’re tracing the shelves, looking for a familiar spine.

“You know me, pretty girl. Always full of surprises.”

You shoot him another withering stare before you crouch down to check the lower shelves – you swear that book was around here somewhere - “Use my damn name, Munson.”

“Only when you use mine, pretty girl.” You can see him rocking from his heels to his toes out of the corner of your eye. Oh he’s enjoying himself far too much.

“Ha! Found it,” you spring back to your feet, dusting your knees off and wielding a small but thick paperback in Eddie’s direction, “The first instalment of one Terry Pratchett’s Discworld Series: The Colour of Magic.”

“Terry… Pratchett?” He takes the book from your hands gently, turning it over after inspecting the front cover.

“Yep. Wrote Strata? Dark Side of the Sun? God, Munson, you been living under a rock? Fantastic Sci-fi books, if that’s your thing. This one is more fantasy-comic. I think you’ll enjoy it.” He nods slowly while you talk at him, appraising the blurb on the back.

“Okay. I’ll take it.”

If you’re being totally honest, you expected him to put up at least some kind of complaint. Maybe a jab or two at your expense. But no, he’s already rifling through his pockets for his beat-up leather wallet.

“… Really?”

“Yeah. You sold me,” He slaps a crumpled note into your hand, “You read a lot of fantasy, pretty girl?”

You’re still reeling as you round the cash register again, enough to not comment on the ‘pretty girl’ thing, “Yeah- yes, I do. I loved the Silmarillion – really, all of Tolkien’s work.”

You’re so busy with the rusty old register that you miss the way his eyes practically glow. He sidles up to the other side of the front desk, smoothly sliding his hands onto the weathered wood.

“You know…” you pause, midway through digging his change from the register. That was a very dangerous tone he just picked up. He continues, a sly drawl to his delivery; “D&D is like a fantasy book that you get to be in—"

“I’m not joining your damn goon squad, Munson.”

“Come on, you’d love it! It’s totally fantasy, you can be whoever- whatever you want, there’s romance, and action – and magic!” He’s leaning towards you now, hands still planted on the worktop, voice equal parts enthusiastic and whining.

You regard him dubiously.

He begins to try and sweeten the deal, “I’ll buy the beer?”

You arch your eyebrow.

“Donuts?”

Your lips begin to quirk.

“Fine. I’ll throw a joint in too. You’re really taking me for all I’m worth here.”

You continue your silence. You tell yourself you just want to see how far he’ll go just to get you to join his little game.

He tilts his head down, looking up at you with warm, doey eyes and dark lashes, “C’mon, pretty girl. I’m begging here.”

Oh no. You really don’t like the way that look made your stomach drop, like someone pulled that gaudy, patterned rug from the shop floor from right under your feet.

You consider it hard, “Just one session? And you’ll stop being weird about it?”

He breaks out into the most dazzling smile, “Fuck yeah. You busy tonight?”

...Shit.

send me song recs and i'll respond with:

41K notes View Post

juggernort

2 years ago

Blackpool Railings, 1951. Bert Hardy. Silver gelatin fibre print.

“Sweet, sweet burn of sun and summer wind, and you my friend, my new fun thing, my summer fling.” ~ K.D. Lang

351 notes View Post

juggernort

2 years ago

#sure jan

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juggernort

2 years ago

𝖂𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝕳𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊 𝐈𝐈𝐈

pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!reader

synopsis: You love listening to Eddie read- but someone had to confess their feelings and surprisingly enough.. Eddie beat you to it.

warnings: pg-13 if you squint [heavy kissing sortof], drug use, but really just Eddie being cute. Cheesy DnD reference.

word count: 1858

parts: [𝐈][𝐈𝐈][𝐈𝐈𝐈]

Your eyes were glued to the TV screen wide and curious as you listened, or tried to listen, to Eddie reading out loud to you. Ever since that first initial movie night it had become a regular thing, you going to his trailer or him showing up on your doorstep every other day just to read or watch movies. You always enjoyed the time you spent with him, whether it be curled against his side sat atop the old but comfortable couch in his trailer- or cuddled up on the stiff sofa your mother had bought just a few weeks ago that very badly needed to be broken in.. you always enjoyed being around Eddie. He had very quickly become a big part of your life, just as you had become a large part of his. He taught you the basics of DnD, even helped you build a character that you could use if you ever decided to join in on a campaign- you weren't ready but he was a patient man.

The two of you shared a love for fantasy, for castles and dragons and wizards and princesses. You shared a mutual love for Tolkien, and when you told Eddie he reminded you of Aragorn you swore he looked like he was going to lift you up in his arms and kiss all over your face.. but he didn't. If there was one flaw in your relationship it was that things never went past heavy flirting and cuddling. You could tell he was holding back, tell he wanted to do so much more- he wasn't exactly hard to read, you just weren't sure why he refused to take things even a fraction further. You had come up with a number of reasons all less plausible than the last, the most reasonable of the bunch being that he was just trying to take things slow but the more time you spent with him the less feasible that seemed. Eddie was not the sort to do anything slow.

With two fingers twirling in his hair and your head resting on his chest to listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat as he spoke. "Fire leaped from the dragon's jaws." He paused, pressing the joint to his lips to take a long hard drag. He held it in his lungs for a moment, a wicked grin pulling at his lips as you glanced up at him. You squinted your eyes knowing full well what he had planned, waiting for him to begin speaking again so you could watch. You loved it when he read the hobbit books to you, Smaug being both yours and Eddie's favorite antagonist of the series. Smoke billowed from his nostrils as he hunched forwards slightly, a deep guttural growl rumbling in the confines of his chest as smoke swirled around you and down over the book in Eddie's hands. "He circled for a while high in the air above them lighting all the lake; the trees by the shores shone like copper and like blood with leaping shadows of dense black at their feet."

As the seconds ticked on his words grew muffled, like static background in your head as you just stared up at him watching him speak. You weren't a heavy believer in true love, or love in general. It just seemed silly, unattainable and unrealistic and those that pursued it always seemed to wade right through it only to come out on the other side with tragic stories to tell. Your mother and father were no exception, and you'd had a long history of shitty relationships yourself. You had partners that cheated, lied, manipulated and used you. You'd had people talk to you as a joke, as a dare from their friends.. so the concept of love and being with someone who really truly unconditionally cared for you just seemed so wild. You weren't stupid, you could recognize the stirrings of a strong crush and normally you tried to squash them down but every time he smiled at you.. ever time his hands lingered at your hips after you hugged or whenever he brushed a stray hair behind your ear your feelings grew even more. Like wildfire they spread until Eddie Munson was nearly 90% of your waking thoughts. You dreamed about him, thought about him all the time and Dustin had relayed to you multiple times that Eddie was much the same. He always spoke about you, daydreamed about you which even trickled over into his DnD sessions which had ironically become quite an issue due to his party being sick of hearing about you whenever you would miss sitting in on a campaign. While you believed your little brother there was a part of you that was scared- terrified to confront him about your feelings but you knew it had to happen eventually.

A large ring-clad hand waving in front of your face pulled you from your not so momentary daze, cheeks flushing a light shade as your eyes met deep brown and Eddie raised a brow. "You alright there? Space out or somethin?" You just nodded a bit, clearing your throat as you prepared for the inevitable. You had to say something.. he wasn't going to- it had to be you. You opened your mouth to speak, jaw however almost immediately snapping shut as Eddie glanced off to the side. His leg was bouncing, something he did when he got too nervous or overwhelmed, and you pulled away slightly to get a better look at him. He had his lip wedged between his teeth, eyes glancing almost frantically around the room. It was your turn to arch a brow as he faced you, chuckling quietly as he whispered a soft "fuck it" and snapped the book shut. The noise startled you, causing you to jump slightly against him as he continued to stare into your eyes. His brow knitted, the both of you just sitting there in complete silence for a moment. He slid the book onto the cushion beside him, raising that same hand to card his fingers through your hair as he slowly dropped his head down to rest his forehead against yours. "Á mele ni, mecin.." he spoke so softly you had nearly missed it, your own eyes widening as his slid shut. Now you weren't exactly an expert when it came to elvish, quenya specifically. You'd picked up a bit from the books, enough to know the full translation of those words. Do love me, please. It was as if he were pleading with you, asking if his feelings towards you were reciprocated and wanted.. and for a second you were shocked into silence. Leave it to Eddie Munson to confess his feelings for you in a language damn near nobody fully knew yet or understood.. and after you were so convinced he wouldn't ever confess.

Eddie was nearly shaking with panic, his breathing controlled.. in through the nose out through the mouth as his eyes squeezed shut. He didn't want to face you, the fear of rejection nearly palpable on the back of his tongue. It sat there hot, heavy, and bitter as the seconds ticked on and then suddenly you were laughing and cupping his face in your hands. Slowly he cracked one eye, and once greeted by your wide smile he opened the other. Your smile was bright, so bright and warm and infectious that he found himself smiling right back at you. His fears were still there of course, still very real as he gently scratched at your scalp. "What's so fuckin funny?" His grin widened as you just leaned your head further into his hand, sortof nuzzling it as you hummed. "carinyë." And as quick as lightning his eyes went wide. You had understood.. and you? Liked him too?

You couldn't count the number of times you had thought about kissing Eddie on both hands. It was in the hundreds at this point, but who could blame you? With his big brown eyes and full lips- the way he looked at you, the way he listened to you.. like every word that came out of your mouth was the most interesting thing he had heard in all his life. He was your best friend within a matter of days, and so much more than that. Time seemed to slow as he lowered his face, lips brushing against yours so softly as the hand cradling the side of your hand slid down to cup your jawline. "You've been paying more attention to the books than I thought-" you couldn't contain the soft giggle that escaped you, smiling wider against his lips as your fingers slid up and through his mess of wavy chestnut hair. "What can I say- you have a nice voice. I like listening to you read." He just hummed, finally sealing your lips with a proper kiss. It was gentile and slow at first, even as Eddie lowered you onto your back without missing a beat. One hand found its way to your hip, sliding down to hike your leg up to wrap it around him as he pressed his body flush against yours.

It didn't take long for the kiss to turn heated, panting softly into eachothers mouths as your fingers tangled in his hair tugging at it as you greedily tried to pull him even closer. With his full weight on you, sandwiched between him and the couch cushions, you couldn't think of a single place you'd rather be. Having waited so long for this it was everything you'd wanted and more. Eddie rolled his hips, pulling a soft gasp from you as your body shuddered and your breath hitched. You wanted more, so much more- but your desire to tease him was much stronger, and as he pulled away to look down at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes a wicked smirk curled at the corners of your mouth. He just snorted, going back in for another kiss however you stopped him with an index finger pressed against his lips. He was shocked for a moment, head cocking slightly to the side as he watched you. "You.. want me to stop or? I mean we can stop.. we don't have to-" your finger pressing harder against his lips cut him off and his other brow arched in surprise. Your smile only widened, barely able to contain yourself as you very softly said "Roll for initiative." You swear you'd never seen a man roll off the couch so quickly, scrambling into his room only to return with a bright red D20. His hair was sticking up in every direction from having your hands running through it and he was panting heavily from having basically ran into his room but as he held up the D20, arching a brow to test whether or not you were being serious you just sat up, looking him over before he gave the little resin piece a quick kiss before sending it clattering to the table. No matter what it read.. you wanted to continue- but seeing him so eager was definitely worth the wait.

authors notes: tried to stay as close to canon Tolkien elvish as possible- and I will not apologize for the shitty DnD "Roll for initiative" bit♡ it's crucial for the next part which will be nsfw so I am beating the minors off with a stick! Seriously, stay back.

[Sorry you're getting tagged in this one twice guys, Tumblr screwed me and removed all the hashtags so I'm reposting this]

tag list: @rome-alone @gamegirl1996-blog @mightiestheroes @what-the-heckin-heck @nerd-of-karasuno @ladychoco @intoanothermind @the-chocoholic-writer @my-infiniteuniverse @mymaraudersmen @kiszkathecook

If you'd like to be added to the tag list [or if I've missed you] please leave a comment!

184 notes View Post

juggernort

2 years ago

𝗧𝗢𝗧𝗔𝗟 𝗘𝗖𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗦𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧 ✿ 𝗲. 𝗺𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗼𝗻

(creds to original gif owner. thank you!) ▸ sum. you and eddie were childhood sweethearts from the ages of 5, broken apart as you moved away at 12 years old. now back in hawkins, eddie is thrilled to have you back. ▸ cw. fluff, hair pulling (mild), swearing, jason being jason ▸ wc. 2.1k ▸ a/n. eddie is 19 in this imagine, his presumed age in season 4. based on the song ‘total eclipse of the heart’ - bonnie tyler. might write a potential part 2 to this who knows.

“i missed you too.”

Eddie Munson surely would not still be going to Hawkins High to this day, right? It had been 7 years since you moved away, right after moving into 6th grade together and seemingly having an inseperable bond at the time. You had known eachother from the ages of 5, all starting when Eddie had knocked over the tower of dominos you were precariously stacking and had then helped you build an even bigger and better tower to make up for it. From that moment onwards, you were both described by your parents as, “moths to a flame for eachother.”

Eddie, as your memory aided you, was a big bright eyed kid with so much kindness in his heart and equally as many knots in his hair. You recall on sleepovers, late at night, dragging hairbrushes through the matts in his hair as he’d yelp and whine, “Heyyy, watch it!”

You’d always playfully roll your eyes, “Stop being such a baby, Ed.”

Particularly coming into 6th grade together, you were deemed ‘popular’ within the middle school hierarchy. Eddie even said one night to you, “I mean, you fit all the criteria, y/n. Pretty, funny, smart. If you want to sit with them at lunch instead of me that’s fine I get it, I dont wan’t to drag your reputation down.” His usual bright, brown eyes were downcasted into his lap, his words a jumbled mess of mumbling with a tone of hurt laced into them.

You nudged him, a silent order for him to look at you, and he did. “I don’t care about the popular kids, they’re total losers anyway. You’re much funner to hang out with than them. All they talk about is sports and their crushes,” You smiled and elbowed him slightly, “Besides, who else would I play D&D with and kick monster ass with?”

Keep reading

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juggernort

2 years ago

how utterly heartbreaking

rest in peace Lisa Marie Presley 🕊️⛪️🕊️

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juggernort

2 years ago

i’m an avid eddie fan (and an avid fanfic reader) — let me give u eddie munson x reader fanfic recommendations

all on ao3 because that’s where the good shit is

like most of these are smut fanfics, so beware or whatever

“so, where’s the key?” by elisesredcrayon http://archiveofourown.org/works/39515895

rule me | eddie munson x female reader by bambibitch22 http://archiveofourown.org/works/39355086

three’s a crowd by kickingdowndoors http://archiveofourown.org/works/39468255 (this one is steve x fem!reader x eddie)

ink by batcatmooney63 http://archiveofourown.org/works/39488085

caught | eddie munson x fem!reader by doomsdaybby http://archiveofourown.org/works/39633159

strange love by neverlandawaitsus http://archiveofourown.org/works/39365895

actually…all of them are smutty. my bad.

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juggernort

2 years ago

i hate when other people are funnier than me.

183K notes View Post

juggernort

7 months ago

July 1967 Interview between Paul, George and two American Schoolgirls

Found out about this interview when reading a comment section. The interview itself is adorable all-round with both Paul and George being very sweet and open to the girls (Paul even shows them his kittens!). The girls too are so obviously teenagers and so sweet and earnest in their excitement.

Lots of interesting little insights in this one like George’s uncomfortable relationship with fame and Paul not thinking that the Beatles could ever stop being the Beatles. Quite tellingly, he also goes on a brief tangent about parents giving children liberties when one of the girls tells him that her mother is going to be angry at her sneaking off. His tangent ends up with him saying he wanted to present a ‘’view of the people that don’t want to be spanked anymore, thank you, Daddy.’’ The girls fathers had not been mentioned. 😬

128 notes View Post

juggernort

2 years ago