Hiii!! I just wanted to say I really reallyyy love your writing.
If you can, a shy little awkward Eddie Munson would be amazing ദ്ദി・ᴗ・)✧
explicit smut, nsfw 18+, virgin inexperienced eddie munson, shy awkward vocal eddie, bold dominant female reader, oral sex (m & f receiving), face sitting, fingering, handjob, p in v sex, praise kink, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, strong language, slight power dynamic, consensual sex
You’d been circling Eddie Munson like a shark for weeks
It started innocently enough. You bumped into him at the record store in Hawkins where he was muttering to himself over a stack of Metallica imports. You boldly plucked the cassette from his hands, declared it “mid,” and handed him a better one. His cheeks had gone scarlet. He stammered a thank you, eyes darting everywhere except your face, and scurried out like a startled rabbit.
Eddie Munson: Dungeon Master, metalhead, town freak. Tall, lanky, wild curls, big brown eyes that hid behind a curtain of hair whenever anyone looked at him too long. Shy in a way that made your stomach flip. Awkward, stuttering, the kind of guy who tripped over his own feet when a pretty girl smiled at him. And you were very pretty, and very forward.
Tonight, you’d had enough of waiting.
The trailer park was quiet under a bruised-purple sky. You knocked on the door of Eddie’s trailer with two six-packs of beer and a joint already rolled. Wayne’s truck was gone. He was on night shift. Perfect.
Eddie opened the door in a faded Black Sabbath tee and plaid pajama pants. His hair was a mess like he’d been running his hands through it for hours. His eyes widened comically when he saw you.
“Hey… uh… you… you’re here,” he squeaked, voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I mean, hi. What’s up?”
You grinned, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “Bored. Thought you might be too. Beer?”
He blinked rapidly, then nodded so hard his curls bounced. “Yeah. Beer’s good. Great. Excellent choice.”
You set the packs on the tiny kitchen counter and cracked two open, handing him one. He took it with shaking fingers, nearly spilling it. You watched him gulp half the can in one go, Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Eddie,” you said, voice low and teasing as you stepped closer. “You’re cute when you’re nervous.”
His face went nuclear. “I’m not. I mean, I’m always kinda… this is normal. For me. Normal Eddie behavior.”
You laughed softly and reached up, tucking a stray curl behind his ear. He froze like a deer in headlights, breath hitching audibly.
“You know I’ve been flirting with you for weeks, right?” you murmured.
His mouth opened, closed, opened again. “You… what? No. No way. You’re like… you. And I’m… me. That doesn’t compute.”
You took the beer from his hand, set it down, and backed him up against the counter. “It computes just fine. I like shy boys. Especially when they look like you.”
Eddie made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. His hands hovered uselessly in the air, unsure where to land. You solved that for him, grabbing his wrists and placing his palms on your waist.
“Touch me, Eddie. I won’t break.”
His fingers flexed against your sides like he was testing if you were real. You leaned in and kissed him.
It was clumsy at first. He gasped against your mouth, then melted, lips soft and tentative. You took the lead, tilting your head, deepening it until he whimpered and clutched your shirt like a lifeline. His tongue brushed yours shyly. You encouraged him with a soft moan.
When you pulled back for air, his pupils were blown wide, lips shiny and parted.
He nodded frantically. “Yeah. Yes. Please.”
You took his hand and led him down the narrow hallway. His room was exactly as you’d imagined: posters everywhere, guitar on a stand, D&D notes scattered across the desk, unmade bed with dark sheets. It smelled like him, cigarettes, cologne, and something faintly metallic.
You pushed him gently onto the bed. Eddie landed with an “oof,” staring up at you like you’d hung the moon.
“God, you’re so fucking pretty,” he whispered, awe in his voice. “I keep thinking I’m gonna wake up.”
You stripped off your shirt slowly, watching his reaction. His eyes tracked every inch of exposed skin, mouth falling open. When your bra followed, he made a helpless sound and sat up on his elbows.
“Can I…?” He gestured vaguely at your chest, cheeks flaming.
You climbed onto his lap, straddling him. “You can do whatever you want, baby.”
Eddie’s hands shook as he cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples experimentally. When you arched into his touch and moaned, he gained a tiny bit of confidence, leaning in to press open-mouthed kisses across your collarbone. His curls tickled your skin. You threaded your fingers through them, guiding his mouth lower until he latched onto a nipple, sucking gently.
“Fuck, Eddie. Yes, like that.”
He hummed, the vibration sending sparks down your spine. One hand stayed on your breast while the other slid down your back, hesitant. You rocked your hips against the growing bulge in his pajama pants, and he choked on a groan.
“Shit. Sorry, I’m. I haven’t. I mean, not a lot. Or, uh, ever. With someone who looks like you,” he babbled against your skin.
You kissed the top of his head. “I like that. I’ll show you what I like.”
You ground down harder, feeling him twitch beneath you. Eddie’s head fell back, exposing the long line of his throat. You kissed and nipped there while working your hand between you, slipping it into his pants. He was rock hard, hot, and leaking already. The moment your fingers wrapped around him, he bucked up with a broken moan.
“Oh god. Your hand. Fuck, that feels.”
You stroked him slowly, learning what made him whimper and twitch. His hips jerked in tiny, uncoordinated thrusts, like he was trying not to lose control. Precum slicked your palm. You loved how vocal he was. Every touch pulled a new sound from him: soft curses, your name, little whines when you thumbed over the head.
You pulled your hand out and stood, shedding the rest of your clothes. Eddie’s eyes devoured you, wide and reverent.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “You’re gonna kill me. This is how I die. Death by hot girl. Tell Gareth I went out like a legend.”
You laughed and tugged his shirt off, then his pants. His cock sprang free, long, pretty, flushed dark at the tip. You pushed him flat on his back and crawled between his legs.
Eddie’s hands fisted the sheets. “You don’t have to. Oh fuck.”
You took him into your mouth, tongue swirling around the head. His hips jerked involuntarily. He immediately apologized, voice wrecked. You hollowed your cheeks and sank down further, taking as much as you could. Eddie’s moans turned guttural, one hand hovering over your head like he wanted to touch but didn’t dare.
You pulled off just long enough to say, “You can pull my hair, baby. I like it.”
His fingers sank into your hair immediately, not tugging hard, just holding on like you were his anchor. You worked him with your mouth and hand, slow and wet and filthy, until his thighs trembled and he was panting your name like a prayer.
“Stop. Stop, please, I’m gonna. I don’t wanna come yet,” he gasped.
You released him with a wet pop and climbed up his body, kissing him deeply so he could taste himself on your tongue. He moaned into it, hands roaming your back and ass with growing boldness.
You reached for the condom you’d stashed in your pocket earlier (always prepared), rolling it on him while he watched with parted lips. Then you straddled him again, guiding his cock to your entrance.
Eddie nodded, eyes glassy. “Please. I need. I need you so bad.”
You sank down inch by inch. He stretched you perfectly, filling you until you were seated fully in his lap. Eddie’s head pressed back into the pillow, mouth open in a silent cry. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise.
“Fuck. You’re so tight. So warm. Holy shit,” he whispered.
You started moving, slow rolls of your hips at first, letting him feel every slide. Eddie’s eyes fluttered shut, then snapped open like he couldn’t bear to miss a second. You braced your hands on his chest and rode him harder, breasts bouncing with each thrust.
He tried to keep up, thrusting up to meet you, but his rhythm was messy and desperate. Exactly how you wanted him. Awkward, eager, completely lost in you.
“You feel so good,” you praised, leaning down to kiss him. “Such a good boy for me, Eddie.”
The pet name made him whine loudly. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he fucked up into you with short, needy strokes. Sweat slicked your bodies. The trailer filled with the sounds of skin slapping, wet thrusts, and Eddie’s broken moans.
You sat back up, circling your hips, and reached down to rub your clit. Eddie’s gaze dropped there, transfixed.
“Can I…?” He licked his lips. “Let me help.”
You guided his hand. His long fingers were clumsy at first but quickly found the right pressure, rubbing tight circles while you rode him. The dual sensation built fast. Pleasure coiling hot and tight in your belly.
“Eddie. Fuck, I’m close.”
“Me too. Shit, me too. You’re squeezing me so good. Can’t. Can’t hold it.”
You came first, clenching around him hard, crying out his name. Eddie followed seconds later with a loud, guttural groan, hips stuttering as he spilled into the condom. His whole body shook beneath you.
For a long moment, the only sounds were your ragged breathing. You collapsed onto his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you immediately, pressing shy kisses to your temple.
“Was that… okay?” he whispered, voice hoarse. “I didn’t. I didn’t last very long, and I know I was kinda all over the place.”
You cut him off with a kiss. “It was perfect. You’re perfect.”
He blushed again, hiding his face in your neck. “You’re gonna kill me with compliments too. Death by hot girl who’s also nice. Worst way to go.”
You laughed and rolled off him, dealing with the condom before curling up against his side. Eddie pulled the blanket over both of you, still hesitant even now, one arm draping awkwardly around your waist.
After a few quiet minutes, he spoke again, soft and shy. “So… does this mean you’ll… stick around? Like, not just tonight?”
You propped yourself up on an elbow, tracing patterns on his chest. “Eddie Munson, I’ve been trying to get you alone for weeks. I’m not going anywhere unless you kick me out.”
He grinned, wide, dimpled, boyish. “No kicking. Definitely no kicking. You can stay forever. Or at least until Wayne gets home and freaks out.”
You spent the next hour just talking. Him rambling about D&D campaigns and music, you teasing him until he laughed that big, infectious laugh. But the heat never fully died.
It started again when you casually mentioned wanting to try riding his face.
Eddie’s eyes went comically wide. “You. Seriously? I’ve never. I don’t know if I’ll be any good.”
You climbed up his body anyway, settling your thighs on either side of his head. “I’ll teach you.”
He was a fast learner. Shy at first, tentative licks and nervous glances up at you, but the moment you moaned and gripped his hair, he got bolder. His tongue explored every inch of you, messy and eager, nose bumping your clit while he hummed like he was tasting something divine. You came on his face twice, thighs trembling, while he gripped your ass and pulled you down harder, like he couldn’t get enough.
After that, he was still hard again. You let him take you from behind this time, on your hands and knees, his chest pressed to your back, one arm wrapped around you like he was afraid you’d disappear. He was less awkward now, finding a rhythm that had you both moaning. Every thrust came with whispered compliments against your shoulder: “You’re so wet,” “Feels so good,” “Can’t believe you’re letting me do this.”
You reached back, threading your fingers with his. “Harder, Eddie. Fuck me like you mean it.”
He did, losing the last threads of his shyness as he pounded into you, the headboard banging against the wall. When he came the second time, he buried his face in your neck and moaned your name like it was sacred.
You collapsed together in a sweaty, tangled heap. Eddie pulled you close immediately, big spoon this time, his curls tickling your back.
“I think I’m in love,” he mumbled sleepily against your hair. Then, panicked: “Wait. Shit, that’s probably too soon. Forget I said that. Or don’t. I mean. Whatever you want. I’m cool. Super cool with whatever.”
You laughed softly and squeezed his hand. “I like you too, dork. A lot.”
He relaxed, pressing a shy kiss to your shoulder. “Cool. Awesome. Rad. Metal.”
The two of you drifted off like that, your bold, take-charge energy wrapped safely in his awkward, adoring arms. You already knew you’d be back tomorrow. And the day after. Eddie Munson was yours now, and you were going to enjoy every shy, stuttering, eager second of it.