One Of The Most Important Things, Perhaps The Most Important Thing I Have Learned In My Life Is That

“‘Forests have secrets,’ he said gently. ‘It’s practically what they’re for. To hide things. To separate one world from another.’”

— Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless (via natural-magics)

restraint

premise: it’s not eddie’s fault that he wants you so badly, he can’t help it.

pairing: perv!eddie munson x (f)reader

word count: 1k

warnings: eighteen+ content, unaware somnophilia, so dubcon, dry humping, coming on panties, a bit obsessive!eddie.

etc: i guess i’m part of the pervy eddie club now, i hold no shame i just wish this idea didn’t come to me at five in the morning because i still have gotten no rest from it!

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

Eddie can’t help it, he really can’t. The little voice in the back of his head—the one that’s probably his conscience, that part of your brain that lets you know when something is morally wrong or just plain fucked up—is being steam rolled and turned into white noise as his cock hardens in his pants.

He can already feel the droplets of precum wetting the material of his boxers, making it cling to the tip of his cock.

He wonders if you can feel it, the way he’s throbbing as he grinds against your ass in slow gentle thrusts. Just enough for the friction to move your body with his, but not enough to wake you.

And yeah, he really shouldn’t be doing this but he really cannot help it. Not when you look this pretty in one of his band tees. The bottom of the shirt pulling up the more you move in bed, exposing your cotton panties, the curvature of your ass, the way the cotton clings and shapes your cheeks so perfectly.

How could he not reach out and touch?

His fingers were buzzing, burning to run along the material. His palm feeling like a furnace compared to yours when he lets it run along your back side, over the curve of your ass, your buttcheek sticking out from the bottom of the panties—index finger running along the back scheme right where your pussy hides, right where he wants to be, loves to be.

It wasn’t his fault that you looked so perfect like this, so pretty. Just as it wasn’t his fault that his cock had started throbbing to the point of pain, aching to the point of need that he had to rut against you. He would have gone insane if he didn’t.

And it wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last.

He would purchase a million tees if it meant he got this kind of show every night. Got to see your bare legs, your braless tits fill out the front so well.

God he loved the way you looked in his clothes.

Loved you like this. At his disposal, so fucking pretty for him, all his, his cock fitting perfectly against your ass—pressed between your cheeks when he finally can’t stand the pounding in his cock anymore and pulls down his pajama pants to position his cock between them. The cotton so soft. His nose buried in your hair as soft grunts fell from his open mouth.

His body even closer. Like glue to yours, your frame moving in tandem with his, quicker, harder the more pressure he puts in his movements. Enough to have your tits bouncing.

And he shouldn’t be greedy. Shouldn’t need—want—more. But you’re just so perfect and he can’t help how badly he wants you. He can’t.

So he doesn’t hesitate in moving his hand below the tee, his palm cupping your tit. Thumb running along your erect nipple, your small whimpers echo through him like a siren calling out to passing ships.

How could he not touch you like this? How could he ever stay away, not want to have his cock pressed to your body, inside of it, fucking you, feeling you all of the time.

How was it wrong to want you this bad, it couldn’t be.

“So perfect,” Eddie whines at the back of your skull. Whispering to you, hoping you can hear, feel how hard he is right now. How much he fucking aches for you to the point of frustration. “My pretty girl.”

He definitely shouldn’t come like this. On your cute little panties while you’re sound asleep. But he needs to come. Needs to mark you, needs to show you what you do to him, what you caused, why he can’t control himself around you.

And so he’s letting out a gutturaled sob into your hair as he paints the outside of your panties with his come. Wetting them, staining them with the seed you forced out of him. From making him crave you. Want you. What he couldn’t help. What your perfect body does to him.

When he pulls back to see a glob of it on one of your exposed ass cheeks he’s already growing hard again. Wants to wipe it up with his finger and push it between your lips, have you swallow it down without even knowing.

But, knowing you’ll wake up wondering, innocently clueless as to what’s on your skin, why your panties feel so weird; brings an amused kind of joy to him. Makes him want to hold you down to the bed and show you where it came from. Only this time he’d be coming inside of you.

He hisses at the sensitivity as grips the head of his cock, moves it along the wet patches of his come on the cotton. Spreads it along your purt covered cheeks. Wants you to wake up feeling soiled, soaked, wet because of him.

The ache deep in his balls is barely sedated. It never is when it comes to you. He could do it again. Ruin these panties to the point of unsavory. Or maybe he could pull them to the side, press the heat of his cock into your crack. Rub the head of his cock against it until he comes again.

Or even run the length of it along your pussy. Hear the wet noises of your folds opening up for him, greeting him like a warm embrace he wants so badly to be inside of—all of the time. You’d get so wet so quick, you have before when he’s done it. Have even come in your sleep just from the tip of his cock lightly brushing against your clit.

It never felt wrong to be with you like this. To take you like this, have you like this. You were his girl, so pretty, so perfect. He needed you, it wasn’t his fault.

And he never was any good at self control anyway.

our little secret ✧ ˚ · . eddie munson x fem!reader.

summary: tardy slips were becoming a regular occurrence and you couldn’t handle another day of boring detention, but eddie couldn’t resist the chance to worship you in every way possible. just be quick, no one had to know.

cw: 18+ content MDNI, oral (fem receiving), fem!reader, in public (sort of, it’s not obvious in the slightest), again v dirty, readers be warned.

word count: 1.7k. short but i wrote this in the span of a couple hours, pls forgive me.

request are always open!

alternate ao3 link

Eddie was the king of worship, that you knew for sure. He admired every point of your body, from your head to your toes, the curve of your breasts as they peeked out of your low cut tops, and how soft your legs felt wrapped around his hips when he was exploring your body—not that he didn’t already know it like the back of his hand. 

But sometimes, it proved to be a bit of an obstacle—a small one, but still. That tardy slips, the mandatory detentions, the stern talking to from none other than the principal of Hawkins High—they were starting to cause an issue. Eddie didn’t have much to worry about, no one expected any high marks or miracles from the freak of the senior class, but you—you had a reputation to uphold. Grades mattered, attendance was important, your friends would disintegrate at the very thought of you shaking up with Eddie Munson—not that you were, you totally weren’t—

“Any louder and someone’s gonna catch us, baby.” Eddie murmurs, mouthing deep, bruising kisses into the apex of your thigh. Higher, higher, you’d told him. The girls on the cheer squad were entirely too nosy and the last thing you needed was them pestering you about why you had so many ‘bruises’ in such an inconspicuous place. They could put two and two together—maybe, you weren’t too sure with some of them.

“Gotta hurry, Eddie.” You couldn’t stand the idea of being so fucked out that you could hear it in your voice, but here you were. “I can’t be late for my morning classes again.”

It was the third week, several consecutive days in a row, that you’d found yourself in the back of Eddie’s van in the corner of the school parking lot. Laid up, Eddie’s head nested perfectly between your legs, half of it disappearing under the cheer skirt you dawned on certain days, like today. Big game, super big game—you jump at the touch of Eddie’s tongue delving between your folds—what were you thinking about again?

“I’ll be quick. Promise.” That was the biggest lie you’d ever heard. Eddie liked taking his time with you and prided himself on it.

“God,” He breathes, the smoldering heat hitting your cunt in a way that has you clenching on nothing air, “haven’t touched yourself since we started this little arrangement, huh?” His voice is so fucking teasing, pompous—you can’t stand it.

“Don’t need to,” You admit, hand curling against the back of his head to push his face further against where you wanted him, “you do such a good job for me.”

He laughs at that, softly, licking teasingly at your clit. You were already soaked, Eddie just had that effect on you—which, to be fair, you’d never felt before. Sure, you’ve found other people that you’ve been attracted to but Eddie—he could simply exist and you’d fall privy to the idea of him. You were obsessed.

He’s feasting on you like he’s skipped morning breakfast and you were his first meal of the day—you definitely were, which reminded you that you needed to make sure he ate in the mornings, it wasn’t good to skip the most important meal of the day. His hands were gripping onto the inside of your thighs, rings leaving impressions that you would trace in the glorious aftermath of all of this. His fingers were turning white from the tightness of his grip, afraid that if he let go he’d lose you.

You gasped inwardly, flying up from where you had been laying on the floor of his van, one hand still wrapped in his mess of curls and the other planted firmly behind you. He’s suckling at your clit, alternating between using his tongue to prod inside you, before finally deciding to use his fingers. And fuck was that a feeling to experience. The slow drag of his tongue is a complete contrast of the way his fingers are curling inside of you, hitting all the right places.

“Eddie, please,” You gasp out, tightening the grasp you had on his head. He grunts at the feeling, quickening his pace and causing you to practically curl into yourself at the tension that’s building deep in the pit of your abdomen, “—your mouth feels so fucking good.”

“So fucking hard, baby.” He tells you, pulling back for air. “You have no idea how much I wanna fuck you right now.”

No time, you tell yourself. Keep it together.

“Fuck, maybe later—just, make me come, please.” You beg, moaning loud enough that if anyone was close enough, you’re sure they’d come knocking.

Was it a dying animal? A helpless person in need? No, it was just you—being eaten out by Eddie Munson in the back of his rundown van.

“Wouldn’t wanna make you late again, right?” Eddie teases, switching between sucking so gloriously on your clit and finding a way to still hold a coherent conversation with you. “Can’t have that.”

“No, we can’t.” You try to tell him firmly, but only manage to sound downright pathetic.

Eddie does seem to understand some urgency, knowing just how much trouble he’s gotten you into lately, so he’s relentless in the way he’s fingering your cunt, curling and scissors with just the right amount of pressure—he never forgets how loud you get, loves to pull the sounds right out of your chest.

You wanna scream, yell, but that would catch you up in a whirlwind of problems and Eddie realizes that too. He reaches for the black handkerchief stuffed in his back pocket, blindly stuffing it into your mouth, you assist him eagerly.

And thank god for it, the scream that leaves you the second he’s pulling you to a bright, powerful orgasm has you gripping the back of his head, watching as he dutifully licks away the sopping juices that had dripped down his chin, daring to dive back into your sensitive cunt to clean up the rest.

“Absolutely not.” You warn him, hand resting on his shoulder. Your chest was flushed a bright red, heaving with the deep breaths you were trying to take. “I’ve got class in ten minutes and I can’t handle another orgasm right now.”

You could, you really could.

“You’re right.” Eddie grunts, pushing himself up from where he’s settled in between your legs.

“Want me to help you out?” You offer sweetly, flashing your trademark smile his way. “I’ll be quick.”

“Yeah…about that,” Eddie begins, crotch finally coming into full view. Well, that was one way to cut your time down.

“Eddie!” You shout softly, amusement and disbelief crossing your features.

Eddie Munson came in his pants, untouched, worshiping you on the floor of his van. That was definitely something that happened.

“I swear I’m not like this.” He jokes, you believed him. “That was just—-a lot. You’re something else.”

Eddie doesn’t need to elaborate. You get it—there was no way you could explain him either, he was just too good to be true.

“I’ve got a change of clothes, at least.” He assures, pointing to a pile of suspicious looking laundry in the corner of the van. “It’s clean, I swear! Hey, don’t give me that look—“

You’re pulling him down in a bruising kiss, something you two didn’t do much of, but it wasn’t entirely foreign. Eddie’s lips were soft and plush, begging to be kissed. He yelps in response, but recovers quickly. He’s pushing back with gentle pressure, careful in how quickly he wants to ramp things up again, but then you’re pulling away.

“What was that for?” He asks softly, hand caressing the side of your face, the smallest hint of his fingertip tracing the curve behind your ear.

“The orgasm.” You say simply, reaching in for another quick peck. “And because I felt like it.”

He huffs gently, trying to hold in the small chuckle that wanted to escape. He’s staring at you, right at you—his eyes were a dark, dark abyss that you wanted to lose yourself in.

Eddie gives you a quick glance, admiring how disheveled you looked. You laugh softly, adjusting your skirt and pulling it down slightly. He pulls tenderly at the hair that had somehow managed to find its way under the strap of your top, pushing it behind your shoulder before reaching to brush a stray hair out of your face and behind your ear, lingering for far too long.

You didn’t know how much longer you could keep this up. The secret, the sneaking around, ignoring the fact that Eddie wasn’t just a random hookup anymore. The lump in your throat was an immediate indication to leave—only Eddie could manage to make you feel pure bliss and agony in the small span of a few minutes.

His thumb drags gingerly against the curve of your lip, you can’t help but reach for his wrist, sucking the digit into your mouth, the warm and wet feeling of your mouth had him cursing at you.

“Shit—such a good girl, yeah?” Your thighs clench at the tone in his voice—deep and yearning. You nod quietly, blush creeping up your cheeks as you reach forward to give him a quick peck on his cheek.

“Yeah and she needs to get to class. Right now.” You remind him, pulling away and peeking the door of his van open.

Coast looked clear, so you stepped out quickly, glancing back to see Eddie peeking out to shoot you a quick wink before disappearing back inside of his van.

“There you are!” Chrissy shouts, startling you so hard that you barely manage to hold back a scream. How the fuck was she so cheerful this early in the morning.

You steal a quick glance back toward Eddie’s van. No sight of him. The guilt of sneaking around with him is enough to eat you alive.

“Here I am!” You say back with too much forced cheerfulness, looping your arm around the arm that Chrissy had offered to you. The bell rings almost a half second after, triggering you both to hurry on to your morning class, leaving Eddie’s van far behind.

And when Eddie smirks at you from across the cafeteria at lunch, the butterflies in your stomach are going wild, causing you to look away, but even he can see the redness creeping up your neck, threatening to reveal just how much of an effect he had on you.

Maybe sneaking around wasn’t all that bad. You were his dirty little secret, no one had to know.

Pinterest always knows what’s good for me

Holier Than Thou [E. Munson]

Summary: The preacher’s daughter has always been pure and unmistakably good, but meeting the leader of the Hellfire Club may change her ways.

Warnings: Swearing, religious manipulation

-

Y/n was unlike many of the girls her age. She didn’t fool around with guys or do anything so daring as cheat on a quiz. She had never been on a date with a guy due to her father watching her like a hawk and speaking against dating. Each time Y/n would ask her father about the dating rule, he would still insist she was too young, even at the age of seventeen. Despite how simple it may seem, being the preacher’s child was difficult. Church twice a week, nightly prayers, rants fueled by fire and brimstone, and daily bible reading made life exhausting. 

Y/n set her book bag down by her chair, prepared to listen intently to the class lecture just like she listened to her father’s sermons every Sunday. Today; however, the teacher did not begin a lecture but instead began writing names on the board. Two by two, names were written next to each other. Students gossiped amongst each other about what the names meant. Perhaps they were in trouble? Or perhaps they were going to receive a new seating chart. 

Y/n was perfectly happy with where she sat; the left side of the classroom in the second row. Next to her sat Ramona Andrews, a girl with a mediocre personality but enough kindness to leave Y/n alone. Y/n didn’t want to sit next to someone who would make fun of her or try to cheat off her homework.

“These are your assigned partners for the upcoming project. I will hand out the rubric for the project at the end of class, but right now I want to explain it to you.” Mrs. Weatherall spoke, her hair done in a bun which was beginning to unravel. 

As the teacher droned on, Y/n scanned the board for her name, praying she would have a good partner. 

Darn it, She thought as she read the name next to hers.

Eddie Munson. 

Just then, a body plopped down in the seat next to hers. Eddie himself sat to face Y/n, a smug smirk on his face. 

“Looks like we’re partners.” He smiled mischievously. 

“Looks like it.” Y/n forced a small smile, trying to hide her despair.

“I had to take this class last year and I still have my project leftover from that, so we could take a look at it if you want. Use it for inspiration.” He suggested in a surprisingly helpful manner.

“Oh, uh, sure. That would be great. What did you get on it?” Y/n responded.

“I got an F, but it was a high F! Right on the cusp of being a D.” Eddie announced proudly.

“Yeah, we can look at it. Maybe use it as a guide for what not to do.” Y/n mumbled under her breath, eyes fixating on the rings he wore. 

“Was that sass? Coming from the preacher’s kid?” Eddie grinned, teasing her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, I just-” Y/n sputtered, afraid she had been unkind.

“It’s okay, Y/n. I was just teasing you. I thought it was funny.” 

“Okay.” Y/n said softly, still feeling guilty for being rude.

“Lighten up. I’m not gonna bite your head off.” Eddie twirled a pencil between his fingers, doodling a little smiley face on their rubric. 

Y/n decided to start working, and to her surprise, Eddie wanted to help. Their project required them to create a presentation on one of the scientists of the 17th century, and their contribution to the scientific community. After flipping through the textbook Y/n made the decision to present on Robert Boyle, as Eddie insisted he didn’t care who they presented on. 

Eddie would write facts and snippets of information then slide the notecards to Y/n, who would subtly correct them while he wasn’t looking. By the time the bell rang they had a stack of notecards with incorrect information on some which Y/n could not fix in time. 

“Wicked work. We make a great team.” Eddie commented as he handed her the stack of notecards.

“See you tomorrow, Eddie.” Y/n murmured as she exited the room. 

Y/n was still a bit scared of Eddie, or rather, she was scared of how enchanting he was. The little jokes he made throughout the class had her resting the urge to giggle. His hair framed his face perfectly, even if it was horrendously frizzy. His round eyes seemed to see her far better than even the eyes of god had, and she couldn’t tell if she loved it or hated it.

Eddie was quite entranced with Y/n. He had always seen her walking through the hallways, quiet as a mouse. He thought she was the most gorgeous girl he had set eyes on, but refrained from speaking to her all these years because of her father. Eddie knew the pastor disapproved of people like him; heavy metal listeners and DND players with long hair. He knew she would never go for him, but he still felt his heart beat a little faster when he thought of her.

-

Y/n shivered as she walked through the parking lot, the brisk air nipping at her skin. She got frustrated with herself for not bringing a warm jacket. Her house was a ten minute walk from the school, and she began to walk begrudgingly when a large van pulled up beside her. Loud music rang out from inside and in the driver’s seat sat the one and only Eddie Munson. 

“Do you need a ride?” He offered.

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I don’t want to inconvenience you. It’s only a ten minute walk.” Y/n replied, despite truly wanting to get in. The cold air still stirred around her, penetrating her cardigan.

“It’s not an inconvenience, and you’re shivering. Come on, I don’t want to be responsible for you getting hypothermia.”

Y/n contemplated her options for a few seconds, then opened the door and hopped into the passengers seat. It was warm in the van and Eddie turned down the music as she entered. 

“Thanks, Eddie.”

“It’s the least I could do. You’re the one helping me get a good grade on this project.”

“You’re helping. You’re doing a good part of the work.” Y/n replied, admiring the way his rings glinted in the light.

“You’re the one correcting my work.” 

“You saw that?” Y/n cringed internally, wishing he hadn’t seen it.

“Yep. You write pretty fast, but you’re not as discreet as you think you are.” Eddie smirked.

“What’s this song?” Y/n asked after a moment of silence. 

“This song, my dear, is Highway to Hell by ACDC.” Eddie tapped the radio.

“Oh.” Y/n was clearly taken aback by the name, not expecting to hear a song with such a name.

“Why do you ask?” Eddie wondered.

“I don’t know. Kinda catchy I guess.” Y/n mumbled the last part, ashamed to admit that she enjoyed the song. Songs like that were never allowed in her house. When they did play music, it was gospel music and light-hearted tunes from years ago. 

“What was that last part?” Eddie questioned.

“I said it was kinda catchy.” Y/n repeated, her head hung abashedly.

“No way. No fucking way! The preacher’s kid likes Highway to Hell?” Eddie laughed in disbelief.

“I never said I liked it.” Y/n protested, but Eddie wouldn’t have it.

“You didn’t have to say that. You said it was catchy, which means you like it.” Eddie smiled widely. 

“Please don’t tell anyone, Eddie.” Y/n pleaded, horrified that her father would find out.

“Oh, I’m gonna tell everyone, princess.” Eddie leaned closer to her as he smirked evilly. He noticed her eyes getting wide with anxiety, her eyebrows furrowed in distress at his words. “I’m kidding, Y/n. No one will know. Our secret, okay?” Eddie soothed Y/n, holding out his pinky to her.

“Promise?” Y/n looked up at him with big doe eyes, still rattled from the image of her father finding out that she liked such a vulgar song.

“Promise.” Eddie spoke. With that, Y/n took his pinky in hers, holding it there for a few seconds before releasing it. 

“Thanks again for the ride. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/n said as she got out of the van which was parked haphazardly in front of her house.

“If I decide to come to class tomorrow.” Eddie spoke, making Y/n give him a slightly agitated look. “I’ll be there tomorrow, Y/n.” Eddie sighed, detesting the idea of going to school. 

-

Y/n quietly shut the door to her house, setting her book bag down by the coat rack which stood next to the door. 

“Who drove you home?” Her father asked harshly as he rounded the corner.

“Just someone from school.” Y/n murmured, eyes looking at the floor to avoid her father’s iron gaze. 

“Who from school? I want a name.”

“Melissa. Melissa Hart.” Y/n felt bad for lying, but she knew he would never approve of someone like Eddie driving her home. “She’s in my English class.”

“Very well then. I’ve heard she’s a kind girl. Her mother comes in to pray on Sundays.” He commented, his eyes still boring into her.

“She is very nice.” Y/n desperately tried to end the conversation, wanting nothing more than to escape upstairs. At last, her father left the room and she darted to her bedroom. Y/n slumped down on her bed, her conscience beginning to gnaw at her for lying to her father. She had to, she told herself. She had to or her father would have gone berserk for no reason. Still, despite her guilt she could not shake the interest that she had in Eddie Munson. 

so not ready to turn 20 in ten days

me forced to come into this capitalist world and trying to live

i hate when other people are funnier than me.

party favours

summary: your best friend robin is in a bit of a pickle, and who else to help her out is there, but you? did she forget to mention eddie munson?

word count: 2.6k

warnings: mentions of drugs, drug use, FLUFFFFFFFF

“seriously, robin. if i wanted to be arrested for drug possession, i could think of a million other ways to do it.”

“really? you?”

you closed the lid on your flute, sitting snug as a bug in a rug within its case. “really. me.”

robin scoffed as she threw her trumpet with little care into its case, shutting its locks with a click. “for some unknown reason,” she eyeballed, looking you up and down, “you make that very hard to believe. besides, you’d really be doing me a favour here. you owe me, remember?”

“remind me?”

“last month when you skipped band practice to go to the mall? i had to tell mrs. blancher you came down with the craziest case of diahorrea?”

your fellow bandmates were slowly filing out of the music room, the blanket of chatter slowly leaving with them. hoping to escape this ploy you were very obviously being dragged into, you threw a handle of your backpack over your shoulder and grabbed your instrument off your chair. “you sure that was a favour?”

hurriedly grabbing her things and following close on your heels into the hallway, robin was growing desperate. “okay, okay, okay. i know it might not have been the best excuse, but i did it out of the goodness of my own heart! doesn’t that count for something?”

“okay, whatever. why can’t you just go get it yourself? i don’t understand why i have to go for you.”

“because i just so happen to have a shift at the video store with steve and won’t have time to do much else before the party.”

you rolled your eyes.

“pretty please? please, please, please do this eensie weensie little thing for me?” robin clutched her hand’s together so tightly that her knuckles were almost white, eyes scrunched closed in prayer.

despite not being friends for a very long time, you had to admit that your soft spot for robin ran pretty deep, as much as you liked to hide it. “alright! okay,” you sighed in admission. “i’ll go see munson.”

lunch was a sort of organised chaos - one that you never really had to think about beyond getting your food and walking to your usual table near the windows. if you really focused and examined your peers’ seating arrangements, you might be able to find some sort of hierarchy, but admittedly you were more interested in the food in front of you.

robin came into your field of consciousness with the grace of a baby deer, slamming her lunch tray onto the clear space of table next to you and making herself comfortable on the bench seat. “ah, how we meet again!” she laughed, nudging your shoulder.

“very funny, rob.” you laughed in response, nudging her back. “study period got you on the ritz again?”

“you know it. but something else has been nagging me even more, believe it or not.” she sighed into her meatloaf before downing a heaped spoonful. oh no, you think, i was hoping she forgot about that.

“i have.. almost this sixth sense.. that you’re avoiding the the task i so graciously handed off to you yesterday.” she raised her spoon at you, eyes reduced to slits. “am i right?”

you shrugged, quietly picking at the mystery meat in front of you. “i haven’t forgotten, don’t worry. just.. waiting for the right time.”

as if thinking the same thing, you both turn your heads to peer at the table a few from your own.

eddie munson was quite the character. ever since you started at hawkins’ high as a freshman and first seen him in the flesh, you had held a sort of fascination with him. you’ve always preferred keeping your head down and keeping to yourself, it’s always been easier to handle the lack of drama when you’d always been sort of… forgettable. the main character in a filler episode type of personality. but this boy never seemed to care what others thought of him - the mischevious smile that never failed to reach his eyes, that playful glint in his eye; it was enough to piss people off, but you found yourself a little jealous of his reckless abandon. your memory of him doesn’t pale in comparison to how he appears in front of you now, it only created a clearer picture.

although you couldn’t exactly tell what he and his friends were talking about, you could still hear the echoes of his voice travel across the cafeteria and see his arms wildly gesticulating something to the boys sitting around him. if you hadn’t known any better, from this angle he looked a bit like an excited kid (albeit, a kid two years older than you).

as if he could feel your gaze on him, he whipped his head around to look in your direction. he caught you staring long enough to throw you a questioning look. you continued to blankly stare at him before being ripped out of your reverie by a painful pinch from your neighbour. “eks-nay on the staring-ay, doofus.”

you quickly realised that you were basically staring all googly-eyed at eddie munson and were caught in the act by none other than the aforementioned party. “fuck. FUCK.” your hand flew to your brow to shield yourself from his view as you began to closely examine your meatloaf.

robin sounded exasperated, joining in on your stealth mission. “you better hope he doesn’t charge extra after that stunt you just pulled.”

“surely not? besides, its not like he’ll remember who i am.” you sneak a peek back at his table through your fingers to see if he was still looking your way. huh. “okay, coast is clear. he’s gone.” it seemed a bit strange that he had just disappeared, but you decided not to question it and count your blessings.

“i swear to god, it feels like the universe is throwing obstacle after obstacle at me in the revelation that i might have some fun tonight.” you let out a breathy laugh at robin’s epiphany, resting your head on her shoulder.

“god, you’re telling me. i never knew this would stress me out so much. i haven’t even asked munson to meet yet!” you let out another giggle, too slow to realise that your friend had gone stiff.

“what do you mean you haven’t asked munson to meet yet?” you lifted your head to meet robin’s raised eyebrow.

“well, i mean- i was going to do it later.. like at last period, or something? isn’t that how it works?” something tells you that no matter what you said here was the wrong answer.

“y/n…” robin shook her head. “at least give him some notice! i bet ten dollars we will not be his only customers today and his services will be in high demand. you have to ask him now. like as soon as possible.”

you found yourself at a loss for words. just as you were about retort back at robin for not giving you any sort of direction, an unfamiliar voice answered for you.

“ask me what?”

eddie was standing right behind you and robin. dear god.

robin was the first to turn around with a sheepish grin. “heeey, munson.. we were just talking about you.”

you gulped, hoping that the floor would just swallow you whole and you wouldn’t have to sit through this interaction any longer.

“yeah i figured. saw your friend checking me out all the way from my table,” he smirked, turning his attention toward you.

his indignance seemed to awaken a little fire within you, causing you to sit up straight and look at him dead in the eye. “i… was not.”

eddie let a small chuckle escape his lips. somehow your feigned confidence served as an invitation for him to make himself comfortable on the bench seat next you. turning his body toward you, he rested his chin in his hand and grinned maniacally at you. “so, what did you want to ask me?”

seeing the infamous troublemaker up close was a lot more pleasing to the eye than you originally thought. you didn’t exactly have the luxury of time to inspect his every feature, but you knew that roguish sparkle in his eye belonged to him. besides, his cocky act was enough to piss you off a little bit. “for weed, munson.” you decided to mimic his smile, resting your own chin in your hand. “were you hoping for something else?”

“honestly? yeah,” he moved closer, testing your resolve. your faces were nothing but a breath away from each other; it took everything in you not to shuffle backwards into the safety of robin. “but i can be patient.” his brown eyes flittled between your eyes and your lips so quickly you could have imagined it. he suddenly stood up and stepped away from the table to take a bow. “i shall be seeing you at the park bench in the woods at 4pm, m’lady.”

“oh.. okay.” you both sat there watching eddie, dumbfounded. it was as if what just happened was a hallucination - he shot you a wink over his shoulder as he left the cafeteria and disappeared into the hallway.

you turned to robin to get some look of reprieve, only to be met with a gaze that said i told you so. “could’ve been worse, right?”

there was a notable chill in the air; the leaves were yellow, orange and red and while some of them held on for dear life, most of their fellow leaves created a colourful palette on the forest floor.

counting the leaves one by one was the only thing holding you together right now. all that was running through your head - or rather, that you were trying to distract yourself from thinking about - was how you embarrassed yourself so collosally at lunch. what were you thinking? what was that whole thing? eddie is kinda weird.. isn’t he? well, it explains a lot of what you’ve heard and seen thus far.

oh man, who cares anyway? you think to yourself. it’s not i’m ever going to speak to him again. it’s not like he’ll remember me beyond whatever happened today.

you stretched your jumper sleeves over your hands and scrunched the material up in your palm, obscuring any lingering cold breeze that dared to slip through.

yeah, it’s fine. i’m so fine. i’m just going to do the deal, head to the party and forget any of this ever happened.

“hey-“

so enrapped in your own thoughts, you didn’t expect to hear a voice coming from behind you, sending you flying up from your seat with a yell.

“woah, sorry. didn’t mean to scare you.” eddie stepped back with his hands up, one still being occupied holding a small metal box.

you took a second to gather yourself before sitting back down. “it’s fine. sorry about that.” you were trying to push out the thought that you have just embarrassed yourself for the second (or was it third?) time in front of this guy and you weren’t sure if you could handle another stint of this.

the table seemed like an awfully interesting subject of focus instead of the drug dealer who was now circling back to sit across from you. from the corner of your eye, you could see eddie trying to hold back a grin, his lips pursed into a thin line. just my fucking luck. ugh.

“so-“

“well-“

you lifted your head to look up at him to find a familiar pair of brown eyes looking straight back at you. you couldn’t help but mirror the grin eddie projected, and before you knew it, you both burst into laughter.

“god, sorry! i’m a bit of a nervous mess, aren’t i?” you giggle sheepishly, scratching the back of your ear.

“understatement of the year,” eddie chuckled, playing with the latch on the little box. “we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. just say the word.”

the wall you created around yourself softened to clay at his comforting words. maybe he wasn’t so scary after all? or is that just what he wanted you to think?

“thanks, but i’m good.” you nodded to yourself. “how much does thirty dollars get me?”

“maybe enough for a small family of 4?” eddie answered back in disbelief. “didn’t peg you as the type.” he raised his eyebrows at his container, leisurely collecting the goods together.

you almost corrected him, but your curiousity got the best of you. “the type to what?”

“oh i don’t know,” he threw his hands up. “the type to buy a pound of weed out of the blue?”

“thought this was a ‘no questions asked’ kind of transaction?” you raised your brow, causing eddie to bite down his lip bashfully and continue to carefully scoop the leaves into a little bag for you. “but you’re right, munson. it’s not for me - it’s for robin and her other friends.”

“oh yeah?” he pressed the bag shut along the suction closure at the top. “big party tonight?”

“you haven’t heard? it’s at patrick’s house on cornwall.” eddie looked at you blankly. “patrick mckinney? on the basketball team?”

“ah, that explains it.” you and eddie exchange packages; three ten dollar bills for a medium sized ziploc bag filled with little balls of green. “you haven’t heard? those assholes are allergic to freaks. not that i care to get to know the monkey living in their empty skulls.” he looks down at the money in his hands for a beat, before shuffling it back into the box.

“well… i wouldn’t say you’re a freak.” you squeezed your lips together. as best as you tried to keep to yourself, it was definitely hard to ignore the bullying that went on. it wasn’t fair to the hellfire club to keep taking all the ignorant insults thrown their way. over a board game? and music? are you serious? you couldn’t believe people were so dense.

“really?” you had piqued eddie’s interest. maybe that moment in the cafeteria earlier wasn’t a one off occurence. “what would you call me?”

you looked at eddie. really looked at him. from his wild curly hair, brown eyes shimmering with curiousity, mischevious grin, all the way down to the chunky rings he adorned - he looked nothing like a freak. he was cute, you’d admit it to yourself, but never to him. “i would call you… interesting.”

“hm!” he smiled widely, nodding to himself. “well, you might be the only one who thinks so. thanks.”

without even touching them to check, you could tell your ears were burning bright red. “anytime, munson.”

sitting across from each other just smiling had you both fidgeting with nothing after a few minutes. “well, i guess i should be going.”

“oh. yeah. sure,” eddie seemed to be caught up in his own thoughts until you started getting up. following your lead, he awkwardly waited for you to gather your things before he joined you on the walk back down to the parking lot.

“is this not a violation of customer policy or something?” you joked, hiding a grin.

eddie looked over at you, metal box jingling in his arms as he walked beside you. “maybe,” he shrugged. “gotta say, our hr department sucks.”

you giggled, covering your mouth as you did. “i kinda wish you were coming tonight.”

“really?”

you have no idea where this sudden rush of confidence came from; it was a total 180 from earlier today. explaining this stir in your chest after such a brief interaction was bound to sound ridiculous once it left your mouth, so you decided against it. “really.”

eddie did little to hide the grin spreading across his face. “maybe i could make a quick stop on the way home.” he looked over at you, brown pools of hope clouding his eyes. “do you need a ride?”

The More You Give (Part I)

Pairing | Eddie x reader

Warnings | 18+ only, do not interact if you are underage. Heavy petting, fingering, nothing much else this chapter. Reader is 18+ and has been since before Eddie was interested. Reader is a virgin who has bad previous sexual experiences (not assault). Mentions of bullying and anxiety around this. Under 21s drinking alcohol. Eddie makes a little joke about getting reader high and taking advantage. Expect coming of age vibes the whole way through and as a result there is a fair amount of exposition this chapter. I’m trying to capture the particular way girls hurt each other. Non canon-compliant; the gate closed forever in 1985.

Word count | ~6,950

A/N | Some of you hate girly-girl reader, some of you hate not-like-other-girls reader. I am here to unite you against a common enemy; not-like-other-girly-girls reader. I really think I can bridge the gap with this one. I joke, but my point is Eddie Munson is capable of loving literally every person ever put on this planet, who dress all sorts of ways and are interested in all sorts of things. My y/n loves Rilke.

Reposting one more time and if it doesn’t work I’ll just cry.

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“Please!” May cries again, clasping her hands together like she’s begging. “I just know bringing something tonight will get me my chance with Liam. And the freak…freaks me out!”

"But I don’t get why that means I should be the one that meets him.”

"You know, I thought you kind of liked Eddie.”

Heather’s smile is innocent, her head tilting like she doesn’t know exactly how much you like Eddie. Like you hadn’t sat and told her every detail of your gooey, warm crush on him that one time she’d snuck a bottle of pink gin to your house.

"Wait, you like the freak?” May asks, her face a picture of confusion. You twist your hands in your skirt when she makes a noise of disgust. “Oh my god!” She says your name incredulously. “That is so gross!”

Your mouth opens, then closes with a bite to your lip. You want to defend yourself, defend Eddie, but find yourself toeing the ground with your shoe instead.

“If I’d known you might enjoy a little rendezvous with Eddie Munson in the woods, I’d have begged a little less,” May says, voice all amusement until she catches your hurt look and sighs. “Look, please just get the weed from him for me? You don’t even have to talk to him, but he really does scare me. Heather’s meeting Patrick, otherwise I would totally ask her.”

Another version of you, one that knew how to get into conflict and come out on top, would tell her that’s not true. Would list every time, at least every time you remember, that you’d done something like this for your friends. Risking trouble, going out of your way.

You take the $20 she has ready and tuck it into your purse.

“Hey,” May says, tone all innocent mocking. “Maybe you should try flirting with Munson. You might be able to get me a discount.”

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