Summary: This Is Just A Blurb About Dad!eddie

okay. i think i'm back in my stranger things moment..

summary: eddie and tatto artist!reader

warnings: some nsfw mention at the end

okay, everyone has been talking about tattoo artist!eddie munson, but nobody is talking about the dynamic of tattoo artist!reader. imagine giving him a tattoo. he would love it. and you can't tell me he wouldn't be at least a lil turned on by you tattooing him or you just having tattoos in general.

foaming at the mouth

Gentle With Me

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Eddie Munson x Virgin!Reader, Eddie Munson x Reader, Eddie Munson x OFC

Rating: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: Reader asks Hawkins High’s favorite freak to deflower her before they graduate. Reader has had a crush on Eddie since forever and only trusts him to do it right. Unbeknownst to her, Eddie has also been crushing hard. He takes extra special care of her ;)

Warnings: NSFW, vaginal penetration, safe sex, mentions of blood, first time, deflowering, loss of virginity, fluff and smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), he talks you through it, constant checking in, aftercare

Word Count:  7,908 (sorry, this got super long!)

Hope you like it! :)

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the holy trinity.

Can you do some general hcs of Nick like what he’s like as a bf? :))

hi anon!!! i've done this one before, and you can find it here <3

comfort & lovin / eddie munson

masterlist

one shot

cw: sadness, thoughts/mentions of self harm and suicide, eddie making you feel better

yeah so my depression is acting up so really i just wrote this for myself, so uh yeah. if you don't like it, simply i don't care. also, if you don't like something that someone writes then whatever, but you don't need to leave rude comments about it.

--

i want to start with this (fic will begin after the cut):

when in recovery, not everyday can be a good day. this applies to many things such as addiction, healing after a surgery or accident, or dealing with trauma. just because bad days happen, doesn't mean you're not making progress.

going from looking in the mirror everyday and hating how you look to trying to love yourself was hard. and that was only a part of the struggle. because it's never just one thing, is it? yeah, maybe you hate how you look. but maybe you also hate how you think, feel, or even exist. and even though you're doing better and feeling more like a person and not a shell of one, tough days still come. and these days suck.

they suck because they pull you into a a whirlwind of thoughts ranging from am i relapsing to will i always feel this way? they suck because people around you notice that you're off. they suck because you aren't yourself those days. and when people pick up on it, they always have something to say even if it's not of their business. of course someone checking in and seeing how you're doing doesn't have any malicious intent and on most days you know that. but when person after person asks it becomes annoying and you wanna do nothing other than scream. it's okay to feel like this, because so many other people do.

you hated those days when you woke up not feeling like you. and today was one of those days. it wasn't as terrible at the beginning of the day but everything that happened just made it worse and worse.

the second you got out of bed, you felt the familiar heaviness in the center of your chest. nothing happened to make it appear, but it was there and it wanted you to know. you cursed yourself, first wondering why this had to happen because you had been doing so good. your following thoughts surrounded your boyfriend, eddie. he knew about your past struggles with your depression but he wasn't around to experience them. and you really didn't want him to find out how you were feeling today.

so, you showered and put yourself in clothes that made it seem like you were doing good and were confident in yourself. but then you looked in the mirror. your eyes watered at the sight of your thighs peeking from underneath your skirt. and the shirt you'd chosen was too tight and showing off way too many rolls. so you changed.

it was just an outfit, no one should notice anything just because you were wearing jeans and an oversized sweater. eddie met you at your locker as he did every morning and you gave him a smile. but it didn't really reach your eyes.

eddie would be damned if he didn't catch every little thing wrong with you. he devoted most of his time to staring at you and studying our face, therefore he knew what expressions were genuine and which were not. "what's wrong, babydoll?" he asked, concern taking over his features.

were you really that bad at faking it? "nothing, babe. just didn't get much sleep," you shrug, lying to him. you give him a quick kiss and he knows better than to push just yet. because maybe you really were just tired, he'd have to wait until later to find out.

then in second period, robin wouldn't stop bothering you over what was up no matter how many times you dismissed her. you ended up excusing yourself to the bathroom to cry in frustration at yourself. you hated when people asked about you because it meant you were inconveniencing them. you were making it so obvious that you weren't okay that you were disrupting others and it made you angry with yourself.

your mind continued to spiral without your permission and you lost control during lunch.

"y/n, you doing okay?" dustin asked from his seat across from you. you glanced up from your lunch that you weren't eating and noticed the groups eyes were on you.

you scanned everyone, eyes catching on eddie's concerned ones. "yeah, i'm fine. thanks though, dusty," you replied with a fake smile.

the table wasn't buying it. "you sure? you look pretty... not okay today?" mike wheeler pushed and you let out a small breath. were you that hard at hiding your feelings that little freshmen were noticing? god, how emotionally fucked could you be?

you chewed on the bottom of your lip as you nodded. "yep, just uh... stomach problems," you shrugged, trying to pass it off. eddie's eyes narrowed, he could see right through your lies.

"i thought you said you were tired. i didn't know you were feeling sick," eddie said with compassion, reaching out to rest his hand on your arm.

you sucked your lips into your mouth, cursing yourself for not sticking with one lie. "well, it's a bit of both, i guess. this morning i was more tired, now my stomach hurts more," you explain, trying to end the conversation.

gareth leans over to look at you from his place on the other side of jeff. "you sure? you know you can tell us if you're sad or something," he says, concern written on his features.

"i'm fine," you mutter, looking back down at your food.

jeff nudges you slightly to get you to look up. "we can tell somethings wrong," he says, trying to get you to open up.

you huffed, feeling your emotions start to go wild. would you scream or would you cry first? "i said i'm fine," you spoke lowly, causing everyone to look at you.

"y/n," eddie says, grabbing your attention from the rest.

"what?" you snap, watching eddie recoil before his mind starts turning.

he knew something was upsetting you for sure now. "let's go talk," he said in a softer tone, nodding towards the hallway.

you knew he was trying to be a good boyfriend and trying to make sure you were okay but it sucked when you didn't want to seem like you were upset. especially when you couldn't explain what was wrong. "i don't need to talk. i'm. fine." you say angrily, nostrils flared.

eddie felt a pang in his heart. why wouldn't you talk to him? in true eddie fashion, he wasn't going to give up on this. "don't lie to me. c'mon, just for a minute," he suggests, trying to grab your hand.

stupidly, you yank it away. "no, we don't need to. i'm fine, everything is fine," you say, voice raising.

"y/n, everyone can tell you're not fine," dustin speaks causing you to glare at him. you grunt in annoyance, shoving your tray away from you and standing up.

"can't you guys just fuck off?" you retort before turning and speed walking your way towards the bathrooms.

everyone watched you leave as eddie closed his eyes. what the fuck was going on? "shit," he mumbles before pushing up and running after you. "y/n- hey! y/n, just slow down," he calls after you, pushing past other students.

you only speed up as you feel the tears threaten to spill from your eyes. you ruined everyone's lunch. fuck, why couldn't you just be normal? now, they're all going to think you're dramatic and a bitch. maybe you were, maybe it's a good thing you did that because they'd finally realize they needed to get rid of you.

eddie wasn't able to reach you before you had bolted into the girls bathroom and he cursed. he sat there for a moment, fist on his forehead as he debated what he was about to do. fuck a detention, you were more than likely crying in there. "jesus h christ the things i'd do for you," he muttered to himself before slowly pushing the door open. "uh, if anyone else is in there uh... say something?" he said, shaking his head at himself and squeezing his eyes shut.

"eddie, please go away," you spoke from inside. he waited a moment for another voice but heard none. he slipped inside, glancing around carefully before sighing in relief that it was only you.

he walked up to the closed stall and pursed his lips before knocking on it. "open up?" he questioned playfully. normally, you would've laughed.

"i don't want to talk," you say, holding back from sobbing.

eddie frowns, looking down to his hands. "baby, i just want to know what's wrong," he says carefully.

you close your eyes, letting your head fall back against the stall door as tears leak from the corners of your eyes. "i'm okay, there's nothing wrong," you state, keeping your voice as steady as possible.

a sigh leaves eddie's lips as he thinks. "i know there is, y/n. you don't have to hide from me," he speaks carefully.

"i'm fine," you croak and eddie can tell now that you're crying.

he feels another pang hit him right in the heart and he wishes he could break down this door so he could hold you. "baby... you're crying," he says and you sniffle. "is it something i did? is that why you don't want to talk?" he asks, wondering if he should go find robin or shit even max to come in instead.

"no, oh god, no eddie, you didn't do anything," you say wiping tears away from your face. how shitty were you? making your boyfriend feel like he did something wrong when he'd done nothing but be perfect.

"then, please... tell me what's bothering you," he begs, hating that he couldn't help you.

you whimper, shaking your head. this was too much to deal with in the middle of the school day. "no, i-i can't," you shakily admit.

eddie closes his eyes, resting against the door. "why?" he asks, his own voice going a little hoarse. were you hiding something?

you let out a small sob before taking a few deep breaths. "not here, not at school. i-it's too much," you say honestly.

"so then you're gonna come home with me after," eddie says, not resting until he finds out.

you let out a sigh and then nod before remembering he can't see you. "okay," you whisper. "um, go back to lunch. i'm just gonna calm down and i'll meet you at your van after classes," you say after a moment.

"baby, i don't want to leave you when you're upset," he hums, twisting his ring.

you shake your head and let out a frustrated sigh. "please, all i'm gonna do is wait for my face to not be all red. plus this is the girls restroom," you add.

eddie scoffs. "like i give a fuck."

"eddie," you beg and he just sighs.

he hates this, but he knows you're not going to let up. "fine, i love you," he says, backing away from the stall door.

"i love you too," you mumble.

the rest of the day was... rough. you ignored almost everyone which wasn't really the greatest idea. because your thoughts just made you feel even worse about yourself. more ideas that flooded your mind became all too similar to those you had almost two years ago. the more you thought, the more you missed your old habits.

you hadn't used the small box of razors in your closet since... well since you got with eddie. he knew about your scars, he knew about your past. he made you promise that you'd never do it again and you did. how would he feel when you told him you missed it? you missed the sting and the small lines of blood. you missed the distraction from the mental pain. you hated how your hands were shaking, eyeing the handheld sharpener with its blade in your pencil bag. you were weak.

by the end of your last class, you felt like maybe you would be better dead. and you hated that. you made it to eddie's van and saw it was already running. he was waiting for you. you really didn't want to ruin his day or burden him with your thoughts, but you knew he'd be hurt if you kept it from him.

you opened the door to his van which grabbed his attention. he didn't give you a smile like usual, instead eyeing you with concern. it made you want to cry. you climbed into the seat and buckled yourself, staring straight ahead. "are we gonna talk about this?" eddie asks carefully, not wanting to upset you.

your lip quivers as you shake your head no. "can we wait until we get to yours?" you whisper, not wanting your voice to break. you see eddie nod from the corner of your eye and throw the van into reverse.

"give me your hand, baby," he says softly as he pulls out of the school parking lot. you place your hand in his awaiting one hesitantly and he squeezes it. the drive is silent aside from eddie's uncharacteristically quiet metal music playing through the speakers.

you stare out the window, wiping away the few tears with the sleeve of your shirt. eddie notices, but decides not to comment on it. the two of you remain silent as you get out of the van, make your way inside, and into eddie's room.

he sits on his bed, patting the spot next to him. you sit nervously, looking down to your hands as eddie stares at you expectantly. you try to hold it in but a hiccup of a sob leaves your lips and tears begin flowing down your cheeks. you look up at eddie for a moment before falling into his chest. "oh, sweetheart," he says, voice heartbroken as he tightly wraps you in his arms. he holds you to him, resting his lips on the top of your head. his hand rubs your upper arm comfortingly as you cry into him.

"i'm sorry," you cry into his chest. eddie shushes you, rocking you slightly in his arms. you shake your head, balling your fist into his shirt and crying harder.

eddie feels a little helpless, he didn't know what to do. "you have nothing to be sorry for, you're having a bad day, it's okay. we'll talk it through, i'm not mad," he tries reassuring you but you just shake your head again.

you force yourself out of his grip and grab your backpack. you can barely see through your tears as you dig out your pencil bag and throw it on his lap. he looks at you in confusion as you bury your face in your hands. he opens your pencil bag slowly, his heart dropping into his stomach when he sees the torn apart sharpener and freed blade laying on top.

he feels like he's going to throw up as tears fill his own eyes. he drops your pencil bag, scooting over to you quickly. "baby," he whispers softly, pulling your forearms carefully to get your face out of your hands. your face is completely red and your nose is stuffed up as tears stream down, dripping off your chin. he grabs your wrist, shaking as he drags up your sleeve. he does it to both wrists as you shake your head.

"i-i didn't," you cry, watching through the tears as eddie scans your wrists. he finds that all the marks were old scars and feels a relief wash over him. "i didn't but-but i was going to, i-i'm sorry," you sob shaking your head and feeling like a failure.

eddie shakes his head and pulls you back to him. "no, no, sweetheart. don't apologize. you didn't, right? that's what matters, you didn't. you're still strong, baby, you're still strong," he coos, his fingers tangling in your hair as he presses you to his chest.

you wrap your arms around him as tightly as you can. "i'm sorry for being snappy, i just didn't want you to know," you whimper into his chest.

"why not?" he asks carefully, rubbing your back.

you sniffle, squeezing your eyes shut. "i didn't want you to be disappointed in me," you admit.

eddie pulls you back to look into your eyes. "now, babydoll, why would i be disappointed?" he asks, using one hand to wipe away your tears.

"because i-i'm having all these thoughts again," you admit. eddie frowns, knowing what you meant by 'all these thoughts.'

he shakes his head, a tear traveling down his own cheek. "you think you aren't allowed bad days, y/n? sometimes things are gonna be hard and that's okay. i want you to tell me when you're having trouble because i want to be here and help you," he explains.

you hiccup, eyes full of sadness. "i don't want to be a bother," you whisper.

eddie feels his own lip quiver at your words. he leans forward, placing a kiss on your lips before resting his forehead to yours. "you will never be a bother to me. i love you, baby," he says and you feel more tears fall from your eyes.

"m'love you too," you mumble through your tears. eddie sighs, grabbing you and hauling the two of you towards the top of his bed. you lay on your sides, facing each other with your arms wrapped around one another. eddie holds you as close to him as he possibly can and kisses your head.

"you want me to sing to you?" he asks quietly, knowing how much you loved it. you nodded, pressing yourself as far into him as possible. he softly starts singing i love you by the climax blues band as he knows its one of your favorites.

and that's how you spend the rest of your day, getting reassurances from your wonderful boyfriend as he tries to make you feel like yourself once again.

Rules and What I Write 🌹

Genres I write: fluff, hurt/comfort, smut, sometimes angst

Rules:

In order to interact with any smut posts, you must be 18+

I won't tolerate any racism, homophobia, bigotry, etc.

Understand that I have the right to refuse answering an ask or writing a request

Please remain kind

DO NOT REPOST MY WORK PLEASE <3

Find who I write for here!

i’d take away your pain if i could

Summary: When reader gets cramps during movie night, Steve does everything he can to comfort them. Classic hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: mentions of pain (cramps)

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

Movie nights with Steve were like heaven on earth. Family Video lets employees bring home movies for free, which lead to this new weekly tradition. There was nothing like doing nothing with him. You’d both don your biggest, comfiest sweats and sprawl out on the couch. Steve supplied the house and whatever movie your heart desired, and you supplied the snacks.

You’d teased about how the trade wasn’t entirely fair, with you spending more money than him, to which he’d responded about how “I’m paying with my ego. What do you think me constantly taking home chick flicks does for my reputation?” 

Tonight’s movie was Sixteen Candles. While Steve’s over at the tv mumbling about how stupid the movie’s gonna be and putting in the tape, you try to get comfortable on the couch. Despite having taken pain meds just before you left, the aching hasn’t gotten better. You recognize the storm that’s brewing inside you, the pain your own body is going to unleash, but push it away as Steve turns to you from the tv, the movie beginning to flick across the screen. 

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Steve with reader who has a cold, just generic full on fluff with helping her have a warm bath, nothing spicy just domestic? :) <3 ly always

18+ for general nudity theres NOT smut/ any graphic descriptions, pure fluff! thank you for your request doting steve is the best! ly anon 1k wc

"Oh, gross. What the fuck's happening in here?” Steve asks, bursting through your bedroom door like a maniac. 

You flinch awake, a wave of used up tissues falling off of your chest. "Steve?" you ask, though your nose is so plugged up that it comes out like, "Steeb?" 

"I think my nose just started running, it's like the air is eighty percent vapor rub." 

You pull your bed sheets over your face to hide from your boyfriend for about five seconds before the air gets too hot and you have to pull it down to just under your lips. 

His eyes soften when he gets a good look at you. "Shit, you don't look good." 

He strides straight to your window and throws it open and then to your side, tugging the sweat-damp sheets off of your tired body. 

"I told you I was sick." 

He sits by your knees, hands landing familiarly over your struggling chest. He spreads his hand, feels the clammy material with a frown. The smoothing of his hand over your skin is nice. 

"You said sick, not dying." 

"You're so dramatic," you complain weakly, your voice thick. 

He pats your chest once. "Alright bub, up we come," he says, arms slipping under your back. 

You moan as he pulls you up and in, his chin pushing over the dip of your shoulder in a hug. He rubs your back. You wish you could breathe through your nose if only to smell his scents, his bergamot and cedarwood, his hairspray and his skin. 

"Steve, I'll make you sick." 

"Sacrifices."

You're sweaty and too-hot, you smell sick and you look worse and Steve absolutely doesn't care, his skin on yours unflinching.

"I think," Steve says under his breath, pulling back to look down at your feeble hunch, the back of his hand pressed to your forehead, "that you need a bath." 

"I'm too tired." 

"I'll help you out, yeah? I'm, like, your personal hot male nurse." 

You wrinkle your nose at him and the skin around your nostrils feels tight and dry. You wince, wanting to fall into his arms and never get back up again. Steve has other ideas, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and leading you into the bathroom. He shuts the toilet lid and sits you down gently.

"I don't want to be naked right now, I'm disgusting," you complain though you don’t really mind, content for him to do as he pleases. You're just happy he’s here. 

"You've never been disgusting a day in your life. Icky, maybe. Slimy. Pretty underneath all the dirt, though, babe," Steve says as he turns on the faucet. 

He sticks his hand under the stream until he's happy with the temperature and then pulls out a clean towel, tucking it over the towel rack and turning to you, smiling his pretty smile that always manages to calm you down. 

You look up at him, breathing through your mouth, head heavy as a bowling ball. He rubs your shoulders lightly.

"Stevie…" 

"I know. You're alright. Look, let's get this off you," he says, hands at the hem of your shirt. He helps you undress and encourages you to hang onto his waist as you step out of your pants, his hands waiting to catch you as you climb into the bathtub. It's not necessary – you're not dizzy, only aching and weak – but it makes you happy that he cares that much. 

You feel better as the water rises, legs crossed and pulled up to your chest in an effort to maintain some dignity though it really couldn't matter less, your boyfriend having seen and loved on almost every part of you by this point. Steve sits on the lip of the tub with his arms crossed, only moving to reach out and rub the top of your back with the heel of his palm when you cough. 

"The steam will clear you out, get you breathing easy again in no time," he promises. 

You turn to him, bringing your hands from the water. They get the hip of his trousers regretfully wet as you grip the side of the bath and drop your head into his lap. 

Steve heaves a sympathetic sigh and hugs you best he can in your positions. You're so tired and being this sick is miserable but his company, his care and his touch are all invaluable. You melt in his arms, quickly close to dozing. 

"Don't fall asleep," he croons jokingly, "I haven't given you your sponge bath." 

"You little freak," you murmur. He bursts into laughter, his chuckles rocking you and making the water around you ebb and wave. You feel like laughing too for the first time in at least a few days. 

"Sorry I couldn't come see you sooner. I mean, I would've made it happen if I'd known you were this sick, I swear," he says.

"It's okay. I know you would've. I've only been this bad since last night." 

"You could've called me." 

"You worked overtime, I wouldn't do that to you." 

"Do what? Let me take care of you? Shocker, loser, I want to do that. I wanna take care of you all the time." 

You grumble into his lap and he mimics the sound fondly, rubbing the edge of your hairline, pushing against it. 

"You want me to wash your hair, babygirl?" Made warm with affection his words come out quiet, like his lips aren't fully parted. 

"Please?" you whisper. 

He guides your head from his lap and strokes your face before giving you a good pat on the cheek. "I'm gonna have you clean as a whistle in no time," he says with pride. He tilts his head thoughtfully. "Then I'm changing your gross sheets. You couldn't pay me to cuddle on those bad boys. There's, like, an eighth grade science experiment happening in there." 

"Bet I could persuade you," you say, not believing it yourself. 

"You definitely could. Dunk your head, I wanna wash your hair before the water gets cold." 

summary: eddie has never had a homemade birthday cake, so you and your daughter deliver

a/n: a lot of you wanted more, and i'm happy to deliver!! i love thinking about dad!eddie. also, i didn't proofread, so sorry if there are any errors <3

okay, i'm gonna keep talking about girldad eddie. i just can't get it out of my head-

i imagine that, growing up, eddie never really had a homemade birthday cake. the most he would get was a single cupcake from the grocery store. so you decide that you and your daughter are gonna make one for his birthday. of course, some chaos ensued. thankfully, you got the mess cleaned up before he got home from work at the local auto shop (yes, i also love mechanic!eddie).

as soon as eddie walked through the door, your 3y/o daughter ran into his arms and said, "happy birfday dada!" he immediately picked her up and spun around with her in his arms, "thank you, shortcake~" she wiggled in his arms until he put her down. she then grabbed eddie's hand and pulled him into the kitchen, where you were making lemonade. next to where you were working was an adorable round cake with vanilla frosting unevenly layered on, black and red jimmies scattered on top, and "happy birthday!" written on top. there were also some rainbow sprinkles piled on one of the corners, as your daughter insisted that it would make the cake even prettier.

when eddie caught sight of the cake, he froze in place. your daughter threw her arms up in the air and exclaimed, "s'pise!" you had practiced saying "surprise" with her earlier, and believe it or not, that was actually an improvement from where she started. you looked up at eddie and smiled at him. when he caught your eye, he immediately began to tear up. never before had he ever had people who took the time to make a cake for him.

eddie's tears soon fell, and your daughter quickly ran over to him and hugged his leg as she asked, "dada sad?" her father let out a chorus of "no no no" about bent down so he could pick her up again. eddie held the little girl close to him and walked over to you, placing a kiss on your cheek. he sat your daughter down on the counter next to the cake and took a closer look at it. "oh my goodness, you designed this, honeybun?" your daughter squealed happily and responded, "mama/papa/bubba helped!" eddie smiled and pulled you into his side. you pecked him on the lips and pulled out a lighter, the candles soon illuminating the room. you and your daughter sang "happy birthday", though her singing was just random noises that followed along to your voice. when you were done, eddie blew out the candles, a huge smile on his face. he looked at you and your child in adoration. you quickly pulled him from his trance when you clapped your hands together, then asking, "okay, who wants cake?"