People Of Color Will Always ALWAYS Deserve Better And More. They’re Allowed To Feel And Say Whatever

@staff please don't let the twitter users who are inevitably going to come here due to the elon purchase bully you into changing things.

Don't make tumblr a second twitter. We love our hellsite(affectionate) exactly how it is. they can get used to it or leave. Tis a delicate ecosystem here.

18 (Eddie Munson)

Summary: You use Eddie to piss off your parents.

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of weed, swearing, SFW, religious parents, not proofread bc I'm gonna be late for work.

Inspired by the song 18 by Anarbor

:)

You'd grown up a goody two-shoes--church every Sunday, straight A's, pleated skirts. You were a clean, cookie cutter good girl.

Until your parents decided it was time to raid your room. They'd found the secret stash on the top shelf of your closet. This shoebox carried the entirety of your real personality. The small baggie of weed you'd gotten from Eddie Munson and your treasured collection of Black Sabbath tapes were confiscated. Then you were sentenced to being grounded for the foreseeable future, only being allowed to go to school and tutor classmates on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Your main tutee was Eddie Munson, two times held back, he was determined to graduate this year along with you. You weren't good friends with Eddie by any means, you'd tutored him for the last few weeks and exchanged pleasantries in the halls (meaning he would bow at you dramatically and you would smile uncomfortably).

At least you weren't one of the kids who judged him and his friends endlessly. You didn't think of the Hellfire Club as freaks or nerds, if anything, you envied them. They were free to express themselves completely.

Your first tutoring session with Eddie had started awkward but quickly became comfortable. You guys chatted for a little while about music, Eddie was surprised that your tastes didn't differ much. He gave you a couple of his tapes to borrow and even slid you a little bit of weed for free (anything for a rebel cause).

He was the first and only person you told about your parents busting you. It's not like you had any friends, unless you're counting your church friends and they would stand right behind your parents on the issue.

Eddie was positively outraged about your parents "oppressing your spirit". His anger managed to rile you up, dragging you out of the spell of sadness you'd been swimming in for the past few days.

"That's bullshit, Y/N," he shouted. You sat on the desk, a copy of the pre-calculus textbook sprawled out beside you. He stood from his seat, pacing the empty classroom.

"I know. I would ask for some weed but I think my parents might actually be considering a drug sniffing dog," you groaned, laying back onto the table. You felt your plaid skirt rise a bit on your thighs, but you let it be. You knew Eddie would notice (he wasn't very inconspicuous), and you honestly didn't mind the attention.

"Fuck your parents! How much angrier can they get?" He questioned, throwing hiss hands in the air.

"I guarantee they can get angrier. That's something I would love to see. Maybe I should get a tattoo, or pierce my eyebrow, or I could--"

"Bring home an older, held back, long haired, tattooed, good ol' fashioned freak as your boyfriend," he pointed at you quirking a brow.

Eddie had very clearly had a crush on you. He would shamelessly flirt, constantly calling you pet names and asking for extra tutoring time accompanied by a sly wink. You figured he was pretty much joking. You can flirt without liking someone. Besides, you weren't innocent. You would let your eyes linger or let your hand rest on his arm for longer than necessary. It was fun and exciting, he was probably the only person in this school that knew your personality went deeper than seemingly perfect facade you displayed.

You considered Eddie's offer for a moment. It felt awful to use him, but he was offering. Besides, you could only imagine the shock on your parents' faces when you arrive in their driveway without your bike, but in a van driven by Eddie Munson blaring Ozzy Osbourne's latest. With that picture circling the forefront of your mind, you decided.

"You might be a genius, Munson. I could kiss you," you laughed.

"You probably should," he smirked, a shit-eating grin taking over his face.

***

"This next left turn is my street," you directed Eddie from the passenger seat. Your Mary Janes were propped up on the dash, Hand of Doom blaring through the open windows. You hair was flying out of your ribbon due to Eddie driving 50 in a residential.

"Sure thing, Princess," he hollered, swinging the wheel left.

You watched as several of your neighbors peeked through their curtains or stepped onto their porches to find the cause of the ruckus, your parents included. They stormed out of the front door upon realizing it was their perfect daughter perched in the van beside the town delinquent.

Eddie pulled right into the driveway, not bothering to lower the volume. You waited in the seat as Eddie hopped out and jogged around to open your door. He grabbed your hand to help you out of the seat.

"They look so pissed," he whispered, pulling you in by the waist. Against his chest, you wrapped your arms around his neck, squealing as he lifted you into the air.

"A+ for the acting, Rebel," you hummed in his ear.

He set you down and pulled back slowly. You grinned at him as he backed you against the van.

"I do live to put on a show," he stroked your arm that remained rested on his shoulder.

"Wanna kick it up?" You asked, leaning into him. You watched his cheeks tinge pink as you went in for the kill, or kiss. His hands immediately found your hips, and yours tangled into his hair.

Eddie met the energy you gave off, the kiss completely skipping any semblance of innocence. Your tongues battled as you guys amped it up for performance purposes, of course. Even you had to admit, it was a bit much but you couldn't bring yourself to care-- too lost in Eddie.

Finally the two of you pulled away, him giving you another peck before pulling away totally. You winked at him before started the walk toward your fuming parents, who stood on the porch in disbelief.

"Bye, Princess!" Eddie shouted, hopping back into his van.

"Bye, Babe!" You threw the last punch as he pulled down the street, going faster than he did on the way in.

"What in God's name are you doing with your life?" Your dad shouted.

"Is this the boy who gave you drugs?" Your mother was nearly crying.

You didn't answered, just rolled your eyes as you entered the house. Your parents followed you in, throwing questions after question at you.

***

So if you wanna piss off your parents

Date me to scare them.

Show them you're all grown up.

If long hair and tattoos are what attract you,

Baby then you're in luck.

The Confrontation

(Eddie Munson x BFF!Reader)

Summary: How long had you and Eddie Munson known one another? Since first grade? Since the dawn of time? Maybe it didn’t matter. What did matter was that you knew everything about him, and he knew everything about you. Best friends tended to operate that way: an unbreakable alliance of camaraderie. 

Pity you’re putting your fucking foot through it by falling in love with him.

Word Count: 3.3K

Content: Mutual pining, confessions of love, emotional resolution, tooth-rotting fluff, Dustin being a shenanigan-instigator

Eddie Munson was your best friend in the whole entire world.

“Joined at the goddamn hip”, your parents used to complain years ago, when you were always tumbling around in the mud, or raiding the pantry, or watching cartoons and generally being nuisances together. Through elementary, middle school, high school.

Weirdos had to stick together, right?

Keep reading

Bucky is Love❤️ Bucky is Life❤️

Combustion (Bfd!Joel Miller x F!Reader)

a/n: so here's some angst?? uh idk i was just chatting with myself in the mirror as one does and this idea popped into my head so have at it i guess

Word Count: 3K OOPS

Warnings: Lots of angst! Drunk Joel, mean Joel, nice age gap (reader is senior in college, joel is presumably in his 40s), like a singular sentence of masturbation, reader is best friend's with Sarah, jealous Joel (but not of another man), lots of tears!

Joel has always been there. 

Ever present, always constant, like air. And the older you get, the more you think he might be a necessity to living in the same way air is. The older he gets, the more you think he might feel the same way.

But if he’s air, then you are fire.

The way you feed into each other can be explosive.

And not always in a good way.

It had started less than a year ago. The summer between your junior and senior year of college. For some reason, last summer…you had grown. You weren’t a kid, or even a teenager anymore, you were 21 and coming into your own womanhood in a way that made Joel look at you a little longer, made his hand brush yours a little more directly.

You pretended like you didn’t notice, like you didn’t purposefully come over to “hang out with Sarah,” just to sprawl out on a pool chair in the smallest bikini you could dig out of your closet. Like you didn’t get up in the middle of the night during sleepovers dressed only in a large shirt and too-small shorts to get a glass of water.

Like you didn’t linger outside his door, listening to his soft pants and moans when he touched himself, whispering your name to the comfortable, dark solace of his bedroom.

Joel knew. You knew. And it all came to a head on a picnic blanket in his backyard under the stars one hot, sticky summer night, providing with one another a kind of passion you didn’t understand yet.

And it continued- it has continued to the present. And now? Now you are preparing for the finals week of your senior year, prepping for graduation and the aftermath of getting that degree. You are crashing at home for a long weekend to build yourself up for that final push. Studying with Sarah and getting to be with Joel made any anxiety dissipate under the soft spring sun.

But that was just for you. For Joel, having you here made things so much worse. He could never think straight when he was around you. It’s not that he blamed you exactly, but it was an unfortunate side effect of your presence. And…he felt inferior to you. 

He didn’t go to college. He went to trade school, and although he is certified and very smart in ways you aren’t. There will always be a part of him that envies your bright-eyed tenacity, and your ability to pursue what you want to go after. He knows he has grit and gumption; after all, he made a life for himself and helped Tommy out numerous times. He was the one with the initiative to go to trade school and start working as a contractor, he was the one that got married and had a child. He was also the one whose wife left him, leaving him a single father. But still, he was capable of providing for Sarah.

But sometimes that jealousy seeps through. Hits him where it shouldn’t. Usually through the bottle. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It was another late study session at the Millers’. You were gathering up your materials, putting your pens away and stacking your journals atop your computer. You gathered them to your chest and said goodnight to Sarah, closing her bedroom door on the way out. You figured you should say goodbye to Joel, too. 

You found him in the backyard, where he usually likes to hang out if there isn’t some sports game on. He’s nursing a bottle of whiskey, straight, not a lite beer he would usually drink. It makes your brow furrow in light worry, but you know better than to speak up about it. After all, you are half his age, and nobody would want to get lectured by a college student who thinks they know more. 

“Hey baby,” you say softly, grazing a hand on his shoulder as you smile softly at him. 

He turns around abruptly, startled by the materialization of the very person who has taken up a permanent residence in what is starting to feel like his very core. He doesn’t really directly address you, just kinda grunts and nods in your general vicinity, only worsening that worried feeling that is gathering in the pit of your stomach, a sore replacement for the usual fluttering feeling he gives you.

“Uh…is everything okay? Rough day at work?” You ask timidly, tilting your head.

“No.” Finally, he speaks up. There is a gruffness in your voice that you have never heard, certainly never directed towards you. “And if there was, I wouldn’t tell you about it.”

Your head rears back as if you had been slapped. It was a weird dig, making you all the more confused. “Okay, first of all, rude. That’s not how you talk to people, least of all me. And it’s fine if you don’t want to tell me something, but you don’t need to address me so callously like I did something to you.” An uncomfortable passage of silence. “Did I? Do something to you? If I did, can you tell me, so I can fix it? You know I would never mean to hurt you-”

“Jesus, this isn’t about you!” Joel exclaims, standing up. Not everything is! But you’ve got it drilled down in your head that the whole fucking neighborhood, the whole fucking world revolves around you. It doesn’t,” Joel spits rudely, looking at you with spite. His words are slurred, an obvious indicator that he is, in fact, drunk. 

But drunk words are sober thoughts, aren’t they?

“Alright, that’s it. You’re drunk,” you say dismissively, biting back the stinging tears and swallowing down hard on the lump in your throat as you wrench the bottle out of his hand, setting it on the back counter jetting from the wall of the house.

Joel starts to protest, but just steps closer, making you step back instinctively, your neck craning to look up at him. He speaks up again, only twisting the knife in your heart. “When are you gonna stop fucking acting like a know it all? You aren’t my therapist. You aren’t my wife. You have no right to come out here and be all sweet on me and try to right my wrongs. It isn’t your place. Find it.”

And in that moment, Joel sobers instantly. Because of the look on your face. Because of a realization on his part that was long overdue. One that should have come with the changes last summer, but instead lingered in the shadows of something unspoken until this moment.

You are clutching your journals and laptop, looking at him with the scowl of a scorned child, but that look morphs into one of a disappointed adult. Of a hurt lover. Of a broken friend. There is an air of broken promises and false hope that shimmers around the little bubble the two of you had blown, and that he had popped.

In that moment, you grow up in his eyes.

But you’re fighting in your head. Do you walk away, let him sober up, and try again in a few days? Or do you fucking let it rip? 

No. If Joel isn’t going to be the adult, you have to be. You hug your belongings to your chest once again and turn on your heel, hopping off the deck and heading to the gate, your hand reaching out wordlessly.

“Wait. I-fuck, I’m sorry. I love you, you know that,” Joel calls out haphazardly.

In that shitty excuse for an apology, you break, with no regard for whoever heels. “Say you love me,” you say in a small voice, not turning around yet.

“What? I love you…?” He says in confusion.

“No. Say you love me and mean it, Joel Miller. Say you love me like you haven’t been fucking your daughter’s best friend for less than a year. Say you love me like you actually want to be with me. Say you love me like you didn’t just tell me to find my place. Say you love me like you actually love me!” You shout, your voice raising more and more with each statement, turning around and gesturing towards him. Joel pales at your outburst. You sink back into your own skin. “No…fuck you. I hope that you learn to be comfortable with the man you are so that you can love someone else the way they deserve to be. Cause it isn’t fucking going to be me.”

\--/

He’s at your graduation. It’s uncomfortable, the stiff side hug and the smile on your face that doesn’t quite reach the eyes in all the photos. You two barely exchange words, but you try your hardest to not let it bother you.

Your diploma is your achievement, and nothing that happened between you two could dampen your moment. You wouldn’t let him steal that away from you.

Now that you are done with college, you are back with your family for a little bit longer as you try to get your feet under you. With nothing else to distract you, yeah, it is even worse. Joel is right across the street, and of course you still want to be with Sarah. But to be in his house, to be in his presence, to constantly smell him and have him in your senses so often is quite maddening. 

He’s tried to talk to you before, tried to grab you by the arm and pull you aside for the chat, but you just wrench away, shoot him a look of pure betrayal and disgust, and he’ll let you go for a little while longer.

He doesn’t know if he can keep doing this, though. You don’t either

If he’s air and you are fire, you need him to keep yourself ignited. You were a spark before, but he helped you become a roaring tangle of dazzling brilliance.

He had dulled your light when those words were spoken.

In your solitude, without him to attest to anything, you wondered if any of it even happened at all. Was it some prolonged fantasy of your love-muddled brain? A crush for your best friend’s dad gone too far in some sick maladaptive twist?

You know that’s obviously not the case, but any option seems better than how it had ended. The only reason you knew you weren’t crazy was the necklace that you refused to take off. Joel had got it for you, before the two of you were even an item, but late enough where you were an adult, and that connection was beginning to take shape. It was small; 14K gold arranged in a teardrop strand around a small diamond. A gift for you when you first went to college. He had given it to you with a note: “Find your fire and do whatever it is that wakes you up, whatever it is that makes you feel alive. Do what inspires you, what moves you, what makes your heart race. Do the things that ignite passion into your bones. Chase your dreams, follow your heart, capture the moments that take your breath away. Do not settle for mediocrity, you have a fire in your soul and a burning in your heart. Do not let fear, convenience or comfort put out those flames. Hold on to what lights you up — what sets your soul on fire. Let go of what harms you and blind them with your light. You are capable and deserving of magic, of love, of the extraordinary — you just have to believe it. Discover what sets a spark in you, follow its flames and light a fire so big that nothing can extinguish it — there is enough fire inside you to burn brighter than the sun. -Always in Your Corner, Joel Miller”

Sitting on your bed, you clutch that note to your chest, quietly sobbing as you feel the necklace on your collarbones, heavy as a boulder. In that vulnerable moment, you don’t know how you got here.

On his front porch, in gym shorts and a tank top, your hair held up in a claw clip, and your cheeks streaked with tears. He’s standing in the doorway in complete shock, messy hair, shorts, and a gray t-shirt over him as he stares at you. He’s saying your name, asking if you are okay, but you are just trying to gather your thoughts. 

“You-you said to not settle for mediocrity. That I should hold onto what sets my soul on fire. That was fucking you, Joel! You were the one that lit me up! It was always you! And I can’t fucking sleep, or-or eat knowing that I can’t walk past you without feeling like I’m getting the wind knocked out of me! All because of what, you-you got drunk and pissed at me? Why? Why did you do that? Why could you not handle me in that one moment?” You finally burst out, the tears coming back in full throttle as you thrust the note into his hands, up against his chest. You want to hit and kick like a child throwing a tantrum, but refrain, instead just crying into the back of your hand.

Joel wants to reach out. WIth his words, with his hands. He wants to comfort you, but he doesn’t know how far he can gets before he breaks a precarious boundary with you. His warm chocolate eyes scan over the note, remembering how he wrote it with such fondness for you in mind. It hasn’t weaned in the slightest.

“You don’t deserve me. I’m twice your age, I’m a contractor with chronic back pain. I would just hold you back from reaching your full potential, because you are capable of so much more than I could ever give you,” Joel tries to reason with furrowed brows.

“No, no! I did not come over here for you to stand there and tell me why we don’t work! I don’t care! I’m here because I want to be here, and I always have been. I’m not dumb, Joel! You know that. Don’t think I haven’t overthought all of this, considered every way our relationship could go. I’m prepared. I’m ready. I don’t need to listen to you try to give excuses for your emotional insubordination!” You exclaim, pointing a finger down to the ground, a more distinguished way of stomping your foot.

Joel is struck dumb by your outburst. Mostly because…you’re right. He has nothing more to say, no more poor excuses to offer you. He has to own up for his actions, something he has not done in…a while.

“Okay…you’re right. But please…can we sit down? I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” he says, gesturing to the porch swing. You sit on the farthest sides you can, too scared to touch each other yet. You are trying to calm your ragged breathing, to get your emotions under control. “I know there are people out there smarter than me. Of course there are! I’m just some man in Texas; I know the world is wide. But I didn’t expect to find a genius so close…across the street…in my bed. With me. I…want to be the man that can help you become what you most want to be. I don’t want to be the one that gridlocks you into some kind of lifestyle just so you can fit into how I live. You are made for so much more than this town, more than me. You’re made of stronger stuff, smarter stuff. And yeah, it makes me a little embarrassed when you go on those wonderful rants about something I’ll just never understand, but I sure as hell would like to listen to you talk about it,” Joel explains, looking down at his hands, wishing he could take yours.

You tilt your head, wiping your final tears away. “You’ve got some idea of what a genius is. Joel…I understand what I’m doing with you. I like being with you. If I felt trapped or held back or restricted, then I would do something about it. You sell yourself so painfully short. You are more than you know. What you just described, listening to me talk about stuff you don’t understand, I feel that way all the time around you! You can talk about cars and materials and power tools and what have you for ages and I will sit there and listen to all of it because you understand all of it in such a masterful way I never could!” You inch closer, feeling more comfortable. “It’s okay to not be the best at everything. We excel in different areas, but that doesn’t make us incompatible. You have to stop self-sabotaging when both of us are perfectly comfortable,” she finishes off quietly, slipping a hand in his.

“God, baby, it killed me to stay away from you at graduation. To watch your big moment, all of that hard work paying off as you strutted across that stage and got your degree, I was a mess. I was bawling down there with your family, and they were so goddamn confused! I just wanted to hug you, and kiss you, and tell you that I am so proud of my sweet, smart girl. Because I am. No…no drunk, jealous bout of rage could ever really take away from that. And I’m sorry that it did. I’m sorry that I said all of that shit and hurt you in just about every way I shouldn’t. I can’t take back what I said. But I can fix what I say and do going forward,” Joel says with a nod, looking up at you dutifully, pursing his lips.

You nod, grateful for the apology as you slide closer, your fingers interlacing as you lean your head on his shoulder. The night is quiet and warm, like it was when you first got together. There’s crickets, and the coo of a dove far off. There’s still just a glimmer of light in the sky despite it being late. Good ol’ Texas sunsets; they last for hours.

Kind of like you and Joel. Bright, dazzling, something truly special to behold, and that could last forever.

We Aren’t Friends

A/N: ummm thank you so much for the amazing response to “Vanilla”!! I’m pretty certain it’s my most popular piece to date and seeing the response just makes me want to write even more. So please comment and reblog, because while likes are awesome, the reblogs boost visibility and the comments just make me happy 😂

Summary: you’re the good girl- good grades, well behaved, picture perfect princess- and you’ve been paired with the boy who you have nothing in common with for a school project. Eddie Munson was infamous and you stayed in completely different social circles. You always thought he hated you and your type until you saw him with Chrissy Cunningham. Why could he be friends with her and not with you? Why did you even care?

Pairing: Eddie x Fem!Reader

Warnings: jealousy?, mentions of drug use and bullying, no spoilers really

“Alright so meet with your partners to discuss your plans for the project going forward…and might I remind you, this is worth forty percent of your final grade,” you teacher told the class. You looked over at your partner- Eddie “the freak” Munson. He sent a wink your way and you sighed; this was going to be harder than you thought.

“Okay so I know you’re not really into the whole doing good in school thing so how about I just do the project and slap your name on it?” You suggested.

“While that is a tempting offer, sweetheart, I have a feeling our ever so observant teacher would notice if it doesn’t have my own personal touch,” he said, nodding over to your teacher who was already glaring at him.

“Fine, um, we could meet at the library right after school is over. I know nights don’t work for you because of your club.”

“You know about that?” He asked, a hopeful twinkle in his eyes.

“You’re not exactly shy about it, Munson,” you laughed. “So library? After school?”

“Works for me, gorgeous.” He winked at you again before grabbing his bag and leaving the room. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were actually looking forward to seeing him again.

Your life was incredibly dull in comparison to his. You were just different, and there was nothing wrong with that. But a part of you yearned for something more exciting. Maybe Eddie could at least provide some entertainment for a while.

You found yourself waiting at the library for almost 15 minutes before he sauntered in, smelling him before you even saw him. You looked up at him with a scowl but he looked like he didn’t care, which he probably didn’t.

“Well now I only have 45 minutes before I have to get going so just sit down and listen to my ideas. I’m still suggesting I do most of the work because it’s worth a bit part of our final grade and I need to nail this,” you rambled.

“Woah, woah, woah, calm down, sweetheart. I have a feeling you could flunk this project and still pass the class.” He sat down in the chair across from you with a smirk.

“Yes well I’d rather not flunk it and keep up with my good grades. I know you don’t give a shit-”

“The princess swears!? I never would’ve guessed!” The smile on Eddie’s face only grew when you rolled your eyes.

“Maybe your bad influence is rubbing off on me already,” you said with a small smile.

“Keep hanging with me, sweetheart, and I’ll completely ruin you.” You knew he meant it jokingly but you couldn’t stop your stomach from doing a flip.

So for the next week and a half you guys met after school in the library like clockwork. He promised to show up on time if you promised to listen to him talk about D&D from time to time. It wasn’t something you understood, but you liked the way he talked about it with passion.

He gave you music recommendations and you, in turn, shared notes with him for some other classes. You told him your favorite movies and rolled your eyes when he snickered at your choices.

Sometimes in class, he’d find you looking at him and he’d wink or just shoot you a smile. Once when he heard you giggle when he rolled his eyes at the teacher, he made it his mission the entire rest of the class to make you laugh. Everyone looked at you like you were crazy but the smile on Eddie’s face was worth it.

As you got to know him a little better, it stung a little more when you would hear the jocks picking on him in the halls or at lunch time. His eyes found yours one day in the lunch room and you sent him a sad smile. You could see the hint of pain in his eyes but he shrugged it away as if it was nothing.

You weren’t quite sure why you felt so sad and angry when you saw him being bullied; maybe it was the growing friendship between the two of you or maybe it was your own growing feelings for the man.

Either way, you decided to go over and check on him. Your own friends asked where you were going but you brushed them off, making your way across the cafeteria.

“Hey Eddie. I just wanted to say that those guys are absolute assholes and you shouldn’t listen to anything they say,” you said with sincerity. His club members looked between the two of you and you knew other people were staring as well. Eddie looked at you and coughed awkwardly.

“Uh thanks, (y/l/n).” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and looked around at the leering eyes of your fellow students.

“I guess I’ll see you later then?” You asked. He gave you a small nod before quickly walking off. You thought it was weird but maybe he was just upset from the bullies. You shrugged it off and grabbed your bag, heading to your next class.

Later that day, you waited in the library for fifteen minutes. Then thirty. Then forty-five. You grabbed your books and shoved them in your bag, slamming the door on your way out. Part of you worried something had happened to him, but another part questioned why you even cared.

You had just made it to the parking lot when you noticed Eddie’s van on the far end of the lot. Eddie was leaning against it with a wide grin, talking to someone in a cheerleading outfit. You looked closer and noticed it was none other than the queen of Hawkins, Chrissy Cunningham.

So he couldn’t be friends with you yet he could run around with the most popular and pretty girl in town, blowing you off in the meantime. You tried to push down the pain bubbling up inside your chest, jumping in your car and speeding out of the lot, right past Eddie and his new friend. You knew he saw you but you didn’t care.

You trudged up to your room and instantly drew yourself a bath. You lit a few candles and poured in your favorite scented bath bubbles. You needed to calm down before working on your project. It needed to be finished with or without him- preferably without him.

After a decent soak, blasting your music to drown out any unwelcome thoughts, you threw on your fluffiest bath robe and sat down on your bed with your books in front of you. Your parents weren’t home so you could just relax without anyone bothering you.

What felt like hours went by, when in reality it was only forty-five minutes. Your album was nearing its end so you got up to change it. You happened to look up in the mirror and let out a ear splitting scream when you noticed a man standing in your window.

“Woah, calm down! Open up!” Eddie called out. You stood there clenching your chest trying to find your heart.

“What. The. Fuck. Munson!!” You screamed, flinging the window open.

“You didn’t answer your door! I was knocking for like fifteen minutes,” he said, climbing into your bedroom.

“So you climb onto my roof, you psycho?!”

“Okay, I can see how that appears mildly concerning. But I just wanted to talk to you and I didn’t have your phone number so-“

“Because we’re not friends.” His face instantly fell into a frown.

“What?”

“You don’t have my number because we’re not friends. I don’t even know how you figured out where I live to be honest. We were partners on a project, which I will finish tonight, and that’s it,” you said, trying to act as neutral as possible. Maybe if you just cut everything off you could squash whatever feelings were bubbling up inside of you.

“Is this because I blew you off today? I honestly got a little distracted and forgot and I feel totally horrible.”

“So you’re trying to justify it by saying you got distracted and forgot? I guess I’m just not as important as queen Chrissy.” You couldn’t help the venom in your tone and you could see something light up in his eyes.

“Are you jealous of Chrissy?” He asked flat out.

“W-what?” He took a step closer to you and you matched it, only to run into your bed. You were suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you were in nothing but a robe. You crossed your arms over your chest and stared down at your feet.

“Is that what the problem is, gorgeous? You’re mad because I was with another girl?”

“No, why would I care about that?” You snapped.

“Because you care about me?” You thought you heard a hint of hope in his voice, but you chose to ignore it.

“Yeah right, Munson. I’m mad because I told you how much you mean to me this project means to me and you just didn’t care enough to show up. So I’m going to finish it and hand it in to the teacher so we can just be done.”

“(Y/N), it was a drug deal and nothing more.” He tried to reach out for your hand but you recoiled.

“Yeah, right. Like Chrissy Cunningham would buy drugs. And you’re the one that decided we weren’t friends when you blew me off in the lunch room.”

“Okay, let me explain!”

“No! You’re done explaining. This really isn’t a big deal. We’re just going to go about our lives pretending the other doesn’t exist, just like before. So please leave.”

“Sweetheart-” when you finally looked up your heart broke to see how upset he looked. You wanted to take it all back but you knew in the long run this was for the better.

“Just go.” You went over and opened your bedroom door, motioning with your hand for him to leave. He stood there with pleading eyes and it took all of the conviction you had to not break down. “Go!”

He slowly walked past you, looking like he had something to say, but whatever it was, he kept to himself. Once he was out of your room, you slammed the door behind him. Once you heard your front door close, you collapsed on the floor with a sob.

Why was this hurting so much? He was nothing to you- just the freak you were paired with for a class project. You could tell yourself that over and over again, but it would never make it true. You had fallen for Eddie Munson, and you just kicked him out of your life for good.

Were you protecting yourself? Maybe. Were you overreacting? Probably. One thing was certain though, you couldn’t change what happened so you’d have to learn to live with it- to live without him.

————————————

Angst?? From me?? Never!

Anyone want a part two? 😏

Please reblog and comment!

Okay so I'm begging the Eddie Munson x Reader writing community to write something inspired by 10 Things I Hate About You.

Patrick Verona is an Eddie Munson Variant, the characterization would be seamless and I will pay you in reblogs and my endless devotion.

The reader could be based on Kat, but honestly you could swap her out for whatever character type you like.

For example, the reader could be Steve Harrington's sister/sibling. Maybe Steve can't date until they date (hence Eddie's involvement).

I just wanna see all the talented people in this fandom give this prompt a shot ❤️

If you do end up writing it, please tag me. I would love to support your work ❤️

Period Pain (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Warnings: Very anatomical discussion about what a period is, cramps

Y/n groans and burrows deeper into Eddie's blanket, curling up into a little ball as she tries to conserve warmth. Her hand wanders to her abdomen, where she clutches her stomach, trying to prevent the cramps. 

Y/n's boyfriend, Eddie, watches from across the room, almost frightened at her state of paralyzation. They had began spending much more time together in the past month, more after school hang-outs, even weekend sleepovers. But suddenly, she stopped being her usual, energetic self and reverted to some little gremlin-hobbit...thing.

"A-Are you okay, Y/n?" Eddie finally asks, having had enough of being confused by what was going on. "Are you sick or something?"

"I'm on my period, Eddie," Y/n's voice sounds from under the pile of blankets she's hidden under.

Eddie blinks, scouring his minimal archives of female knowledge for any knowledge of "periods." It proves mostly unsuccessful. At his silence, Y/n rolls over and narrows her eyes. "You do know what a period is, right?" She asks tenatively.

He blinks at her once as a sheepish smile overcomes his face. Y/n sits up, adjusting the blankets around her and fixing Eddie's Hellfire Shirt, which is slung over her frame (which Eddie finds incredibly sexy, mind you). "Sit," she says, patting the space on the bed beside her.

He does, scooching close to her and leaning up against the wall his bed is pushed against. He looks at her with those big, puppy dog eyes, those eyes that say "I am listening to every word you say and am utterly, hopelessly devoted to you. Please continue with your thoughts."

"So once every month, the female body goes through a cycle called ovulation. It's when our ovaries, which are right here," Y/n begins, taking Eddie's hands and placing them right beneath the little bulge in her stomach. "Release eggs that travel through the fallopian tubes, which are here," she continues, guiding his hands along a little squiggle that leads to his hands resting right above her pubic bone. "While this is happening, the lining in the uterus, which is here, thickens to prepare for a fetus, or baby.

"If the eggs that were released don't get fertilized, then the thicker uterus lining detaches and sheds itself. Because it's part of the body, it's covered in blood, and that release is called a period, or menstration. It usually lasts for about a week. The uterus contracts to release the lining, making us have cramps. And our estrogen levels, which are the chemicals that make us female, are higher, which can make us a little more...irritable," Y/n finishes, Eddie's ringed hands still resting on her stomach. The cold rings seep through the thin fabric of the shirt, sending goosebumps up her arms.

Eddie's eyes are muddled with two different emotions. One of horror and one of pure fascination. "Uh, one, that's...awful. And horrible. And partially gross. Not you but just the...ritualistic blood bath. And you're so strong for dealing with that every month," he says, pressing a kiss on Y/n's face after every sentence, much to her giggling delight. "Two, all of that knowledge stored in that big, beautiful brain of yours is really hot," he says, gently shifting her underneath him.

Y/n laughs, wrapping her arms around his neck and allowing him to kiss her. "Having my period usually means I don't want to have sex. It's too much of a hassle to have to clean up," she whispers, making him frown and playfully collapse on her.

"Babeeee," he whines, looking up at her with big eyes. "Then why did you have to go all smart, Ms. L/n on me? You know how I get when you use your big girl voice."

"My 'big girl voice?' What is this, third grade?" Y/n laughs, pushing Eddie off her so he's on his back beside her.

"Well, what about cuddles? Can you do that?" He asks, propping himself up on his elbow.

"Those are the best," Y/n says, throwing a leg and arm over him and cuddling up, placing the blanket back over him as she closes her eyes. Eddie's arms wrap around her, holding his girlfriend close to him as his own eyes close in contentment. 

\\2 Months Later//

Eddie places his finger on his calender, dragging it to the current date and tapping his finger on the note. "Y/n's Blood Bath," it reads. He grabs the keys to his van and heads outside, starting up the car and driving to the local pharmacy. 

He wanders the aisles, looking for some direction. After another cycle, Eddie began to pick up on the pattern that Y/n went through, and observed what she had to make her feel better. Besides a ridiculous amount of quality time with Eddie. 

He finds himself in the feminine care aisle and begins browsing the shelves, completely confused, but wanting to help Y/n in any way he can. So, he buys a big bag of pads and tampons. Walking over to the drug aisle, he buys a large bottle of Ibuprophen. Finally, he buys a jumbo family size bag of her favorite chocolates. 

Once Eddie gets to check-out, the clerk eyes Eddie with uncertainty, slowly beginning to scan them. Eddie, the smug little shit he is, just flashes them a shit-eating grin, rocking on his heels and paying for it in whole. He gets in his car and places the bag on the passenger seat, kicking the van into gear and driving off to Y/n's house.

Darkness has settled over her neighborhood as he parks outside of her window. Getting out of the car, he can see the lights on in her room through the drawn curtains. Picking up a rock on the lawn, he tosses it at her window, repeating it 3 more times before Y/n throws open the curtains to see Eddie standing below her. 

He smiles up at her and waves, holding the bag above his head and shaking it. Y/n opens her window so that he can hoist himself into it, landing ungracefully on her floor. "Eddie?" She whisper-yells. "What are you doing here? What's this?" She asks, helping him up.

He looks down at her and pushes her hair behind her ear with a little smile. "Your Knight in Shining Armor has arrived, m'lady. I've got all the essentials, those weird products that almost got me kicked out of CVS, chocolate, pain medication, and the best part...me," he says, spreading his arms.

Of course, the hormones almot make Y/n start crying, her eyes filling with tears as she launche sherself into her boyfriend's arms. "Eddie, this is amazing! Thank you so much, babe!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm pretty great," Eddie sighs, hugging Y/n back and kissing her forehead with a small smile.

\\The Next Day//

Y/n winces at lunch, leaning her head on Eddie's shoulder as her body contracts with a cramp. Eddie looks down at her in concern. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Forgot the meds," she mumbles, burying her face in his neck, inhaling his comforting scent.

Eddie sighs, rolling his eyes and rummaging in the inside pocket of his jacket. "You're lucky you take up about 90% of my brain space," he says, subtly pressing 2 pills in her hand. "Who's the best boyfriend?"

"Oh my god, you are," Y/n says eagerly, planting a big kiss on his lips that leaves Eddie bright red and the boys at the table whistling.

\--/

The bell trills 3:00 pm. Y/n eagerly pushes out of her chair, grabbing her backpack and making her way through the throngs of people in the hallway before she gets out the door, the mild warm weather of the afternoon seeping into her pores.

She walks through the parking lot to where she finds Eddie leaning against his van, waiting for her. Her chest deflates in relief at the sight of him, knowing that she'll be able to relax with him in his trailer, and that he'll take good care of her.

"Hey there, m'lady," he says, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a soft kiss on her lips, playing with Y/n's hair. "Ready to go home?"

"Please," is all Y/n says as she gets into his car.

Once they get into his trailer, Y/n immediately changes into one of his shirts and slips under the covers, getting comfortable and making herself at home. Eddie rummages through his drawers and pulls out two of Y/n's favorite movies with a smile. "Movie night?" He suggests with a smile.

At 6:00, Eddie heads into the kitchen to make some frozen dinner. He can't cook, come on now, but he tries his best, and that's enough for Y/n. So they sit on his bed together, watching movies, eating dinner, and talking about their day.

Everyone please stop what you’re doing because today is Loki’s birthday

Happy birthday Loki

𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐘𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 || 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

summary: in which you forget your wallet and offer eddie a quid pro quo. oh, look at you using big words! [eddie munson x bimbo!reader]

cw: smut || 18+ only [ft. oral sex (m receiver), reader is dumb (obviously, so if that bothers you.. goodbye!]

a/n: i rewrote this entire thing 4 times 😃 i still don’t really like how some parts turned out but let’s pretend it’s because i’ve stared at it for hours on end and not bc it’s actually bad <3

“That’d be 20,” Eddie says, sliding the bag of weed towards you over the wooden table.

You open your bag to look for your wallet only to not find it in its usual spot. You look inside the bigger compartment, ruffling through makeup bags, receipts and strawberry lollipops but come back empty handed. You look back at Eddie, offering him an anxious smile, “Just a sec.”

He nods and rests his forearms on the table, toying with the wristband of his watch while he watches you open all three of your makeup bags, the glass bottles and compact powders clinking against each other. 

His eyebrows raise at your mumbled curse. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. S’just…” you giggle nervously, twirling a strand of hair. “I forgot my wallet. Silly me.”

Eddie grimaces in pity. “Well that’s unfortunate, sweetheart, but you know what they say…” he takes back the plastic bag and dumps it into his toolbox, closing the lid sharply. He smiles sarcastically, “Flattery doesn’t pay the bills.”

Your shoulders drop as he stands up, but before he can put his leather jacket back on your face lights up, resembling a cartoon having an eureka moment. Or so Eddie thinks. “Wait! I could pay you some other way, if you want!”

“Cash only, you know the rules.” Your twinkling laughter lets him know he said something stupid, which coming from you should probably bruise his ego a little. “What?”

“That’s not what I meant, silly,” you chuckle, adjusting your position on the bench and leaning forward conspiratorially, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. Eddie gulps as your eyes drag down his body to his groin then back up to his face. “I meant, I could do you a little favour.”

“A favour,” he repeats blankly. 

“Yeah, like a little– ugh, what’s the word?” You muse, your front teeth trapping your lower lip. Eddie has to admit that the way your brows furrow in concentration is adorable. “Oh, yeah, a little quid pro quo! I suck your cock, you give me the weed for free,” you sing-song, smiling at him. 

Eddie is many things. A freak, a nerd, an academic failure, a drug dealer. He is not dumb, though, even though the vast majority of Hawkins High would like to defer. So it’d be very dumb of him to turn down a blowjob offer from one of the prettiest girls in Hawkins. 

He’s seen you around town before, walking around with your short skirts and dresses and tight shirts, heeled mary janes that probably cost more than anything inside his trailer clicking against the pavement. You were one of the few people in Hawkins that didn’t cast him aside, in fact, you had always been kind to him whenever he got the courage to talk to you. 

Whether it was because you were simply too nice or because the fact that he was Eddie “the Freak” Munson just flew over your pretty little ditzy head, he’d never know. 

So sue him if he had a teeny tiny crush on the local airhead.

Then he remembers the hunk who usually had an arm wrapped around your waist. The meathead that would bump into his shoulder if they crossed paths. The jackass that would make your shoulders drop and a sad look cloud your face when he mocked you as you played around with the figurines on display in the comic shop he frequented. 

His mood sours.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” 

“Yeah, but he won’t mind. Half the weed is for him anyways.” You shrug, clearly unbothered. “Besides, it’s not like he hasn’t been sneaking around with like, half of his girl friends behind my back. At least I’m doing this as a favour to him.” 

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Shit, no way.” 

“Yeah, he must think I’m stupid or something. I mean, I’ve already found three different fake nails in his car. Do I look like the type of girl to wear black nail polish?” You tilt your head to the side, your shiny purple nails clicking on the table. Eddie shakes his head with a snort. “Exactly! So, are we gonna do this or not? I have a hair dresser’s appointment in like an hour.”

Eddie shifts in place, kicking some leaves up in the air. As much as this is a dream come true, he doesn’t wanna take advantage of your predicament. Hoping you don’t take it back, he asks, “You sure this is cool?” 

“Yeah, it’ll be fun!”

He wonders if your idea of fun is usually this fucked up but finds himself nodding in approval. “Yeah, sure. Fuck it.”

You clap your hands in excitement and stand up, your skirt flaring as you twirl around to walk to the opposite side of the bench. You stand in front of him, fingers linked together as you bounce on the balls of your feet. “So, like, do you wanna stand or sit down?”

Eddie stares at your glossy mouth as you talk, down to your low cut top that exposes the swells of your chest, and lower to your short skirt that will most likely rise up if the barest hint of a breeze passes you by. 

“I, uh, I think I’ll sit,” he says, lowering himself to the bench. He gulps when he’s face to face with your boobs, your nipples straining against your shirt.

Yeah, he thinks as his cock stirs awake, sitting down was the smartest choice. 

“Wait,” he grabs his jacket and dumps it in front of him. “For– for your knees. So the leaves don’t hurt you,” he explains when he sees the confused look on your face. 

Your heart swells inside your chest. You have to clutch it to make sure it doesn’t burst from the seams. “That’s so sweet!” you cry and give him a quick peck on the cheek before kneeling between his legs. 

You shuffle until you’re in a comfortable position, caressing his thighs gently when you’re done. “It’s super comfy, Eddie. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he exhales, watching in anticipation as you unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans. He helps you out by raising his hips, pulling down his boxers himself just enough to get his cock out. 

Your mouth falls open. “Oh, wow.”

His cock isn’t even fully hard yet but it’s still an impressive sight, barely thicker than it’s longer and decorated with two cute veins on either side that lead to the pink tip. Your favourite colour. 

You reach forward to touch him but he shifts back awkwardly, shoulders drawn up. “Sorry about the mess,” he says, more pink coating his cheeks. If he keeps this up you’re going to fall in love. “I didn’t think I'd be getting blowed during a deal so, uh, y’know… housekeeping missed a week.”

He’s embarrassed, you realise, catching up to the misunderstanding. About his… pubic hair? You laugh internally, how dumb is this boy?

“I don’t care about that, dummy,” you keep stroking his inner thigh, now touching his skin. He’s so warm. 

Your honesty is so clear in your eyes that it helps him relax. Your hand hovers above his mound and only touches him when he nods shakily, petting it softly. Your eyes light up with happiness and god, Eddie loves that shine on you. “I think it’s super hot, actually. Kinda wish my boyfriend kept it like this.”

Eddie sighs as you litter warm kisses around the base. His dick twitches when your nose bumps against it. “He doesn’t?”

He doesn’t know why he asks, but he’s curious. So very curious to know what you see in that asshole, what it is exactly that Eddie’s missing. And maybe, just maybe, he feels a burst of proudness when you shake your head with a sad pout. 

Eddie: 1

Asshole boyfriend: 0

Your kisses move upwards, your lips pressing sweetly all around his cock and your tongue tracing the veins. Eddie is practically vibrating with anticipation, his hands hovering on either side of your head like he doesn’t know if he can touch you. 

“You can touch me, Eddie,” you mumble against his length, the vibrations sending a shiver down Eddie’s spine. “You can do whatever you want. Here–” 

He swallows down the whine of despair that threatens to come out of his throat when you pull away, has to bite his lip to stay quiet when you take off your top and your tits fall out.

You take his hands and press them to your chest. “Feel them,” you guide his fingers so he can squeeze them, letting out a breathy moan in response. Encouraged, Eddie does it again, this time by himself, and sneaks out of your hold to twist your nipples. “S-soft, aren’t they?”

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he corrects. 

You swallow harshly, the praise and Eddie’s eyes glued to your boobs creating a gentle warmth inside you. “I, uh, thought you might’ve wanted something pretty to look at. Trees can get a little boring. A-and you can use them as stress balls, too! Just anything y’want, really…” You shake your scattered head and grip him once more, Eddie cursing from your sudden movement. “I’m gonna suck you now, ‘kay?”

“Whenever you want, sweetheart.”

Something in the tone of his voice makes your thighs clench together. 

You purse your lips and dribble some spit onto the tip, spreading the rivulettes around with firm strokes. Eddie’s breathing hardens, and when you finally wrap the soft cushions of your mouth around the head and suckle on it like the lollipops you’re always munching on, it’s like he’s stopped breathing all together. 

“Shit,” he curses, the feel of your wet tongue swirling around turning his brain into mush. He can’t think straight, not when he looks down and sees you slobbering all over him, slurping loudly as your head bobs up and down enthusiastically.  

“Holy fuck, that feels so good.” You’re fighting back your gag reflex, he can feel it– your throat contracting around him as you try your best to fight off the urge to throw up, desperate to keep him snug inside your mouth. The spasms cause his head to fall back, the grip on your tits tightening until you’re whimpering. 

You’re a sputtering mess when you pull away, spit dripping down your chin and onto your chest, which is panting with the effort to relieve your burning lungs. You keep stroking him, though, your fist gliding with ease thanks to all the drool you left on him. 

“Look what you did to me,” Eddie says, eyes glued to the tip that oozes precum like a leaky faucet. You follow one of the pearly white drops on its path down to his balls and, never having been a wasteful person, lick it up. 

Eddie groans the feeling of your soft tongue kitten licking his heavy balls. “Do that again,” he begs, hands leaving your chest to keep you down where you are, pressing you against his base. You’re overwhelmed with all things Eddie: his scent, his taste, the sounds he makes as you plop both sacks into your mouth and suck them. 

Eddie slumps back against the table, the sharp edge digging itself into his back but he doesn’t care. He’s spewing curses and the sweetest sounds you have ever heard. “Oh god, you feel how full they are? How full of cum they are for you? Never got this fucking needy for anyone, I swear to fucking Ozzy or- shit, I don’t know. Feels like I’m gonna explode.” 

Nothing makes you wetter than having a cock in your mouth and the evidence is obvious in your panties. You pull them aside and play with your clit as you roll Eddie’s balls in your mouth, pressing two fingers into your dripping hole in search of relief. Knowing that your digits were sticky with his precum and your spit rips a cute little mewl from your chest, and you press your face further into his groin. 

You sigh in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut while you pump your fingers. With a kiss to each of his balls, you lave your tongue on the underside of Eddie’s cock, flicking the slit to embed his taste in your mouth.

“Oh shit, are you touching yourself?” His voice gets higher from the surprise and the arousal, something rabid growing in his stomach. He combs back your hair so he can see your eyes. “That’s– that’s so hot. You have no idea how fucking hot it is.”

He can’t look away from you. Wants to burn the image of your mouth stuffed full and your teary eyes and your lips stretched wide as you try to give him your best smile. Your nipples are grazing the rough fabric of his jeans, your tits bouncing up and down as you drool all over him.

He doesn’t think he can last much longer, not when you touch him so good and sound so pretty even and he knows he’s the reason you’re so desperately fucking your own fingers. It’s then that the wet heat of your mouth envelops him again.

All hell breaks loose. 

He thinks he’s burning up, he has to be. His skin is hot and sweaty, his mind delirious and he can’t keep himself from spewing the first thoughts that come to mind. “I bet that little pussy is beautiful. Sweet too. It’s– It’s gotta be, with how fucking pretty you are. How sweet you always are to me. Always so nice to me, laughing at my awful jokes. Even if your idiotic boyfriend is around. Goddamit,” he clutches the bench beneath him, eyes screwed shut. “I’m gonna cum, sweetheart. Where- Where do you want it? In that tight throat, that pretty face? Anywhere, anywhere you want.”

You pull away with a lewd popping sound, Eddie’s eyes rolling back. “My face, please. Want you to make me pretty,” you say breathlessly. 

Your inner walls flutter at the sight of Eddie losing himself in his orgasm. He’s always been pretty but now, with his lips raw bitten, his hair a wild mess from running his hand through it, his face flushed and his shirt sticking to his sweaty chest? He’s beautiful, gorgeous, every synonym in the dictionary. 

You await with an open mouth and the second the first spurts of his cum hit your cheek, you’re cumming yourself, movements stuttering and thighs closing in on your wrist. Some of the spurts enter your mouth directly and you gulp them down without hesitation. Others drip down your forehead and cheekbones before they touch your parted lips, your tongue darting out to collect them. 

“Come here.” He grabs you by the back of your neck and leans forward to kiss, not even caring that you’re covered in him. His nose presses against your cheek as he swallows down your whiny moans, tasting himself on your tongue. 

He’ll blame the mushyness on his post-orgasmic bliss, not worried about anything when you’re switching his deep kisses for sweet little pecks that could make his knees buckle. 

“Oh!” you exclaim when you notice the clump of white on the tip of Eddie’s nose. You swipe it off with your thumb and lick it up, not even worrying about your own state. “So, uh, I read that cum is like this super amazing facial… maybe we could do it again sometime?”

Oh, bless your silly little heart.