#eddie munson x you

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You and Eddie spend some ‘quality time’ together in his van on a stormy afternoon 😘 Includes oral sex (f receiving) face-sitting, masturbation, squirting, unprotected p in v sex

It’s a gorgeous, stormy afternoon in Hawkins. Heavy rainfall drums against the roof of Eddie’s van, trickling down its fogged-up windows. The two of you are wrapped together under a blanket in the back, stripped to your underwear. Eddie’s hands run along your back as you lay over him, his fingers working your bra undone. He succeeds at unhooking it and the bra slides down, the fat of your breasts now pressed against his bare skin. Your breath hitches when your peaked nipples meet the coarse hair on Eddie’s chest. Every part of you seems on fire, sensitive and filled with need. Eddie can feel your arousal, one of his thighs situated between yours, the warmth of your soaked panties wetting his leg…

His breath is warm and moist on your neck, raising goosebumps across your skin. Eddie’s lips suck gently along the base of your throat, traveling down your chest till he’s massaging your breast in his mouth. You keen into his tongue, gliding your nipple against the soft, wet pad. Lightning strikes close by, the rumble of thunder vibrating the backseat under your bodies. Eddie slides his lips off your breast, his eyes wide with mischief. “That was a big one, huh?” he murmurs up at you. Adjusting yourself on top of Eddie, you’re now straddling his bulge instead of his thigh. He groans as you bear down on his stiff cock, the fat outline prominently tenting his boxers. “Yeah, it is a big one,” you respond, using Eddie’s previous words.

He holds you at the waist, rolling his hips upward, grinding you over his bulge. The rain grows stronger along with the wind, whipping against the sides of Eddie’s van. He gently eases you off of him for a second, gazing between your bodies at the soaking mess you’ve made on his boxers. “Jesus Christ,” he marvels, sounding awestruck. “I don’t know if it’s wetter out there, or in here…Fuck I need to taste you…” Eddie guides your hips as you crawl up his body, till your thighs are framing his face. “Atta girl,” he mumbles into your cunt, but his words are obviously muffled by your pussy in his mouth. Eddie’s left hand squeezes at your hip, while his right hand moves to touch himself.

His eyes drift closed, his tongue lapping your cunt through your slippery panties. You sink deeper over Eddie’s face, humping his lips and chin, marking him in your scent. He’s tugging at his cock now, grunting into your wet heat as he fucks himself and you at the same time. Your fingers are locked in Eddie’s hair, his ebony curls damp with sweat. The atmosphere inside the van is extremely warm, prompting you to toss the blanket off your bodies and onto the floor. Eddie’s hand is working himself closer and closer to climax, his mouth sucking your clit through your panties with the same goal. The underwear is completely saturated by this point, a useless barrier between your cunt and Eddie’s mouth. When you come, your orgasm fucking drenches Eddie, the slippery liquid running down his cheeks and neck.

Eddie flips you over, pulling his cock from his boxers and tugging the sopping crotch of your panties aside. Your legs wrap around him instinctively, begging him to fill you up, and he readily obliges. Eddie enters you easily in one thrust, his hands clutching your ankles for leverage as he pumps your cunt full of his release. He lays over you, panting and chuckling into your hair, “fuck sweetheart, m’sorry I came so quick. Y’just squeezed me so good, couldn’t help myself…”

Eddie slides a hand between your bodies to pull his dick out of you, his fingers grazing your clit in the process. A little gasp leaves your body at the contact; Eddie smiles up at you wickedly, that mischievous look in his eyes again. “Aww,” he coos. “Looks like you’ve got one more in there for me, huh princess?”

Before you can respond, Eddie’s already moved backward in the seat, nuzzling your belly on the way down to your pussy. He peels the ruined panties off of you, slathering your legs in your juices as he pulls them off and tosses the soaked fabric to the floor. Eddie rests on his elbows in front of your ass, and burrows his face between your legs.

Your fingers find his hair, tangling in Eddie’s wet mass of curls as he eats you. Heavy rain pummels the roof of Eddie’s van as his tongue bullies its way inside your pussy. It’s almost too much, the way he forces his tongue in and out of you. Eddie isn’t content with licking your clit; he literally has to fuck you with his mouth before he’s satisfied with his work. He knows from experience that you have the strongest orgasms when he pumps his tongue in and out of you like this, rubbing the tip against your g-spot, licking you from the inside out. Your hold tightens in Eddie’s hair, your cunt gripping his tongue as its thrusts continue.

Rutting yourself against his face, your clit bumps Eddie’s nose just as his tongue reaches the deepest place inside you yet. Your climax streaks through you like a bolt of lightning painting the sky, your creamy walls twisting and clenching around Eddie’s tongue. He grins into your cunt as you soak his face again, getting off on the vibrations of your orgasm he can feel through his tongue.

Eddie licks soft stripes up and down your pussy as your orgasm fades, pressing feather-light kisses onto your clit. “Good job, baby,” he says, lifting his head from between your legs. “I knew y’had another one in you…”💋

[rebelfell]

urgent.

eddie munson x fem!reader

"I want it to be urgent. Like you can't keep your hands off me."

Smut blurb featuring no *actual* smut, in which Eddie is doing his best to help you get over your ex. Cause that's what friends are for. Right? cw: drinking/smoking, references to sex acts.

18+ MDNI 2.8k

“Alright, that’s it. I need another.”

The cushions of Eddie’s well-worn sofa bounced beneath you as he stood, sighing as he headed to the kitchen. His shaggy hair flew up as he glanced back at you with a playful twinkle in his eye that fully betrayed his attempt to sound irate.

“Can’t believe you talked me into watching this shit,” he added with a scoff, indicating the movie flickering on his television screen.

With a quiet giggle, you tucked your legs further up underneath you and squished deeper into your seat. The smile on your face only widened when he returned carrying two new bottles, one of which he passed into your waiting hand.

He’d successfully bribed you into coming over for a long overdue movie night by texting a picture of his fridge that was almost barren except a case of your favorite beer and a couple boxes of day-old pizza captioned, “how can you resist???”

Evidently, you couldn’t. Hence your arrival at his door not even an hour later, swathed in baggy sweats and a giant hoodie without a speck of make-up on your face. Your uniform of late.

“She lives!”

He bellowed in his mad scientist best, practically dragging you through the door to wrap you up in a hug so tight it threatened to crack your bones and made your lungs ache as they attempted to draw air—as if he thought he could wring the sadness out of you like a sponge.

Admittedly, it had been too long since you’d seen him. And not just him, but any of your friends.

For weeks now, you’d been using excuses of work and needing to catch up on laundry or cleaning to avoid facing them. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see people. You just knew any attempt to hang out would only lead to questions about your recent break-up.

Questions you didn’t have the answers to, nor the mental capacity to tackle.

Eddie was a safe bet in that regard.

He’d always had what you could only call a morbid curiosity about your love life. If he asked about it, he did so in such a way that it made you feel like he was sort of dreading the answer? Like checking under a shoe to make sure a spider was really dead. You had figured that he of all people wouldn’t press you for too many details.

It was as close to a perfect evening as possible.

The remaining half of the joint you shared still sat smoldering in the ashtray on the coffee table. The two of you basked in the rosy glow of Christmas lights strung up on the walls he had yet to take down even as summer rapidly approached.

Beer and pizza sat in your belly, it and the weed only making the travesty of a bad movie you had basically bullied him into watching all the funnier.

You’d almost, almost, forgotten about your current tragic circumstances. And then…

“We can talk about it, you know,” Eddie said during a quiet stretch of the movie.

He instantly clocked the stiffening of your spine and the tensing of your shoulders he knew had nothing to do with the appearance of the killer following a side character down an alley.

“We don’t have to,” he went on, forcibly keeping his eyes forward like he was talking to the guy on screen now getting gutted, “I’m just saying if you wanted to, we could. Or we can just keep drinking and watching this garbage.”

With a laugh, he indicated the screen again.

The killer completed his deed and the wide shot revealed a painfully obvious dummy version of his victim lying on the ground beneath him. You were also pretty sure a boom mic dipped into frame.

It made you chuckle along with him and you turned your head, finding his doe eyes shining in that annoyingly endearing way of his that never failed to soften you to his whims.

“It wasn’t anything bad-bad,” you muttered, half talking to yourself. “He was just sort of…selfish.”

“Selfish how?” Eddie asked, brow knitting in confusion. “Like he hogged the covers? What?”

“No, like…”

Your cheeks burned as you stared at your hands in your lap, your thumbnail scraping against the pulpy label of your beer bottle that had begun to sweat profusely the longer it went un-drunk.

“Like in bed,” you said at last. “He didn’t ever go down on me, or do much of anything other than jump straight to fucking. And it was always over very…quick. Once he came, it was right back to business as usual. He wouldn’t check in with me or even me ask what I—”

Your voice wavered slightly and you clamped your mouth closed, forcing back the bitter taste suddenly filling your mouth. With a deep and steadying breath, you finished your thought.

“I just didn’t feel like a priority.”

The detached tone was one you’d been working on for weeks. You knew eventually you’d have to crawl out of the hole you’d banished yourself into and when you did, you would have to sound okay with the fact that you’d been burned yet again by another guy you foolishly got your hopes up for.

Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers together. He shook his head, baffled by what he was hearing.

“Did he ever give a reason? I mean, did he…”

Eddie trailed off, not sure what he was getting at.

Because what kind of person had to be told to make their partner a priority? To make them feel important? Beyond just pleasure, beyond just making them come. How could anyone be lucky enough to land you and not do anything and everything they could to make it work?

His eyes bored into the coffee table, unable to lift his head to look you in the eye. It was hard for you to read the expression on his face. It looked like a cocktail of all the different things you had felt during your isolation. Anger. Sadness. Disappointment. Disgust. Pity.

“We talked about it.” I talked about it, you wanted to say. “But he wasn’t interested in changing, so I said we should end it. And we did.”

Your words seemed to hang in the air after you said them. Eddie stayed silent a few moments longer, seemingly deep in thought. The movie played on, but the words and pictures both sort of blurred into static neither of you were paying much attention to anymore.

“That’s awful,” he said at last. “I’m…I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes darted up, surprised by the softness in his voice. The soothing, calming reassurance thing was much more Nancy’s speed. You knew Eddie could be sweet, but it was always buried under a million layers of sarcasm the same way he hid himself behind the armor of his leather jacket and denim vest. By the look on his face, he’d surprised himself as well.

“He’s a fuckin’ loser,” he grumbled, almost angry. “You were right to dump him.”

“Maybe,” you sighed back, staring down at your lap again. The swishing of Eddie’s curls told you he was shaking his head emphatically.

“There’s no maybe about it,” he insisted, tipping his beer back to take a long swig. “If he doesn’t appreciate someone like you he doesn’t deserve to be with anyone, s’far as I’m concerned.”

The tiniest smile emerged on your lips when you heard the little southern drawl that crept into his voice whenever he got a bit worked up. It makes him sound like his uncle Wayne grumbling about the noisy neighborhood kids or “those damn bureaucrats with their burea-crock-a-shits.”

“Thanks,” you said, nodding weakly. “I know it was the right decision and all, I just…it all feels so fucking hopeless. Even if I find another guy who seems nice, who knows if he’ll stay that way? I don’t want to just fuck a bunch of frogs on the off-chance one of them is a prince.”

Eddie snorted, nearly spraying the sip of beer he’d just taken out of his nose as you went on.

“The worst part is I’m so, like…”

You shook your head as you laughed in disbelief, hiding your face with your hand as it flushed with heat at what you had almost blurted out. Were you really about to say this?

His brown eyes danced under arched brows. He smirked, daring you to say it. Fuck it.

“I’m so pent up, my vibrator is gonna file a complaint for hazardous working conditions.”

“Maybe you need a new vibrator,” Eddie suggested. Or someone new behind the wheel.

You shoved his shoulder playfully, wide smiles spreading across both your faces. He grabbed at your wrist, wrestling your hand away and bringing it towards his mouth, feigning like he was going to bite. Squealing giggles erupted out of you as you pulled it back and he gnashed at the air.

Breathless from laughing, you settled back into your seat and inhaled deeply a few times trying to catch your breath. Eddie brought his hands back to his lap and looked down, allowing a small smile at seeing your face light up like it just had.

He’d do anything to see you like that.

“I will say,” you started, absently drawing circles on the arm of the couch, avoiding his gaze as his eyes jumped to your face, “It would be so great to get, like…one good night. You know, just scratch the itch so I can think clearly for once.”

Eddie paused, mulling again.

What he meant to say was…what if it was with someone you knew? Someone familiar you were comfortable with? Someone you knew you could trust to take care of you? What if it was someone you had known a long time, who cared about you and would put you first the way you deserved?

But the words that actually came out were—

“I could do it.”

“You…what?”

He knows that sound. That nervous, breathy little exhale that just came out of you. You blinked at him, stunned into silence as you tried to figure out if he was being serious. Eddie shrugged.

“I’m just saying, you don’t want to fuck a stranger. And I’m certainly not a stranger, so…”

He gestured vaguely at himself with his hands, a goofy little movement that had you rolling your eyes and tssing at him through your teeth.

“Eddie, don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not being stupid!” he exclaimed, only to stop and reconsider. “Okay, fine, maybe I am. But I'm also being serious. You’re my friend and I wanna help you out. However I can.”

“You seriously think…” You shook your head. “I mean, are you even attracted to me?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Come on,” he groaned, “is that even a question?”

“No, Ed, I’m serious. Really think about it.”

So, Eddie thought about it.

He thought about that two-piece you wore that one sticky-hot summer day when you all piled into he and Argyle’s vans and drove out to Lover’s Lake to swim. He thought about how he had to keep reminding himself not to stare and how his shorts got so uncomfortably tight until he had to fuck off into the trees for ten minutes to take care of himself. And how when he got back, he had endured everyone’s teasing about taking a shit in the woods—because he would much rather they thought that was what he was doing instead of jerking off in front of some voyeuristic squirrel.

He thought about the way your lips wrapped around the end of every joint he’d ever shared with you and how his heart would race when you asked him for a shotgun. He thought about that one time he was sick as shit and had that fever dream about you in a nurses outfit he’d torn off you piece by piece, kissing you all over your body until you were writhing underneath him crying out his name until he woke with a violent jolt and had to throw his sheets in the wash at 4am.

And now not only was he extremely sure he was attracted to you, he also had a significant piece of evidence to back up his claim.

“I think it’s safe to say I am,” he chuckled, shifting in his seat.

Your eyes flitted down to his lap and you inhaled sharply at the sight of his growing bulge and the piss-poor job his thin sweats did of concealing it. Your cheeks burned just thinking about it and you simply had to laugh at the absurdity. If only it hadn’t come out so breathy and nervous…

“What about you?” he asked, his voice lowering to a suggestive timbre as he scooted in closer. “Are you attracted to me? Really think about it.”

Your pulse thrummed as your eyes scanned him, taking in every detail. Cutoff sleeves that showed off his taught arms, inked all over with scratcher tattoos. Narrow hips sort of mesmerizing in the way they swiveled whenever he played guitar on stage. Fingers that moved dazzlingly fast over the strings and had made you wonder on more than one occasion what it might feel like for him to play Master of Puppets on your pussy.

It made your mouth flood with saliva, and other wetness gush between your legs.

“What if…we kissed?” he asked slowly, his eyes locked so intently on your lips you could almost feel the heat of his gaze on them. “Just to see? Just in case?”

In case of what?

You wanted to ask, but the words didn’t come. You were too breathless as he drew you in.

You’ve seen Eddie kiss girls before.

Whether it was out at a random dive bar after his band played, or some house party in a house you didn’t recognize. You’ve seen how he cups their faces in his hands, large grasp nearly engulfing their entire head. You’ve seen the way his eyes hooded and how that insufferably smug, knowing smile of his turns up the corners of his mouth as he goes in for the kill. You’ve seen how his fingers spread wide to cradle their heads as they gave into him and felt the way it made something stir, however briefly, deep in the pit of your belly.

But you’ve never been that girl. It’s never been your face in his hands or your lips parting, waiting for the touch of his. And now that it’s happening…you don’t have any idea why you waited so long.

His mouth is gentler than you thought it would be, his lips soft and smooth as two pink petals of some flower you can’t name. You can feel the distinctness of their shape moving against your own and can still taste the malt of your favorite beer in his mouth, but the combination makes it into something new—something unlike anything you’ve ever tasted before.

You can just barely feel the tip of his tongue swiping at the entrance of your lips and it’s purely instinctual the way you open up for him to grant him access. He moans softly into your mouth, a plaintive little noise that sets your blood on fire. Suddenly, you’re possessed. Fisting his shirt in your grasp, dragging him with you as you lean backwards and sink deep into the cushions.

“I take it we’ve got the green light?” he asks in a throaty chuckle.

You answer by pulling him into another kiss, tangling your fingers in the hairs that run along the nape of his neck, twisting his curls in your grasp as you tug him back onto your mouth.

His hand wandered downwards, dipping into your sweats to cup your heat over your panties, his two middle fingers stroking at the arousal gathering there. His touch is teasingly light and yet he has you held firmly in his grasp, just enough to have you mewling into his mouth seeking more.

“Tell me exactly how you want it,” he groaned as he peppered hot kisses along the column of your throat, his voice soft but solid. “I want it to be just what you need. Just how you like it.”

You swallowed hard, struggling to form coherent thoughts with his teeth nipping so sweetly at your neck, and all the rings on his fingers pressing into your skin as he squeezed the curve of your waist. And through the haze his touch and teeth and lips created in your head, you managed an answer.

“I…I want it to be urgent. Like you can’t keep your hands off of me,” you sucked in another breath, “Like I’m all you’ve ever wanted.”

Eddie’s head lifted and you tensed just slightly under his reverent gaze. His eyes drifted across your face, all round and glassy and searching, as if he was trying to memorize every inch.

And then, as immediately as he’d paused, he was burying his face in your neck again, body grinding into yours with a newfound sense of desperation as he growled out a single word,

“Done.”

thank you for reading :) love you, mean it!

[bbyhellfire]

18+ only

When is it my turn to teach Steve how to suck Eddie's cock?

"Slow down, Stevie. I know he tastes good, but it's all about the build up. You see this vein? Right here? Drag your tongue along it. Just follow my finger, baby. Good, keep doing that until he's wet. You're doing so well, Steve. Now, we're gonna take it up a notch. Doesn't he have the prettiest cock head? Suck on it, just like how you suck my clit. You hear him? You've got Eddie gasping like it's his first time. You wanna try taking him in your mouth? Yeah? Put those pretty lips over your teeth...That's it. Just go slow, take your time. Eddie's not going anywhere....And whenever you're ready start sucking. Awww, he's already close. Haven't even had him in your mouth for five minutes and he's close to cumming. You're such a good cock sucker, Steve..."

[falinewluv222]

eddie munson x trailer park princess headcannons

contains: fluff, fem!reader, short and sweet.

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for like 2 years lol.

✮ i feel like the first one is pretty obvious, but he would definitely feed the stray cats in the trailer park. he'd even keep a bag of cat treats on hand so that whenever you came over, you could feed them too. you even gave them all names.

"look eds, it's daisy! she's coming over to me."

"that's daisy? thought that was linda."

"no, linda's got the pink nose."

he'd just nod and smile fondly, scratching behind the cats ears.

✮ he'd always try to be super cautious anytime he came into your small bedroom, mindful of your collection of delicate trinkets and such. you once scolded him for accidentally spilling your nail polish all over the carpet.

"eds!! i told you to be careful."

"sorry, princess.. want me to get out?"

with his brown eyes wide, he'd glance at you, accidentally knocking over more items in his frantic scramble to catch them.

✮ of course he'd tease you with the nickname "princess," a playful nod to your slightly primadonna tendencies, yet it always carried a sense of endearment that made it stick.

"how's my princess doing today?"

✮ you loved giving him fashion makeovers, often applying eyeliner before his gigs at the hideout. despite his initial grumbling, he'd always let you. patiently waiting as he tried to suppress a smile at your focused expression. it always led to fits of giggles from you, which was music to his ears.

"you look awesome eds, do you like it?"

"baby, i look like nikki sixx.."

✮ you'd often wander over to keep him company in the front yard while he worked on his van, his sun-kissed skin dotted with freckles. and he'd always pour you an ice-cold glass of cola, especially as his side of the tracks heated up later in the day.

"need any help?"

"nah, i got it. wouldn't want my princess getting her hands all dirty now."

✮ he'd occasionally give you money from the proceeds of his drug sales so you could indulge in your shopping. after a day of splurging, you'd excitedly return to him, eagerly showing off all your new purchases.

"and then i got this miniskirt.."

"mmm it's pretty, baby. can't wait to ruin it later."

[putting-eddie-munson-in-places]

Can you put Eddie on The Bachelor? 👉🏽👈🏽 Need that pretty boy to give me a rose 🥹

Congratulations [INSERT NAME HERE]!

[oneforthemunny]

the apple blurb from the crypt (funsonmunson february 2023 lol) <33 finally recovered and being added to the masterlist for all the janitor!eddie x teacher!reader lovers.

janitor!eddie is always leaving an apple on teacher!reader’s desk every morning.

he gets there early before her to do some extra maintenance- the school had given him a raise to do both so they wouldn’t have to hire someone else. it started as a joke between you two. eddie grinned when you’d brought an apple to lunch one day, playful glint in his eye. “an apple a day, huh?” he asked.

steve snorted. “that’s a doctor, munson.” he rolled his eyes.

you shrugged, biting into your apple. “I like apples, ok?” you giggled. “guess I was made to be a teacher, huh? the stereotype doin’ it for you?”

eddie couldn’t stop smiling. so every day, when he’d stop at the gas station by the trailer park, he’d get his usual pack of camels and an apple. he’d place it on your desk, scribbling on a spare piece of paper a little note that left you blushing when you’d find it.

he’d pass by your classroom, catching your eyes when you’d see him, smiling and nodding towards your apple. later, when he’d take you out, you’d kiss him sweetly on the cheek. “thanks for the apple.” you’d mutter. “it was delicious.” you’d let your bottom lip graze over his cheek, sending a hot blush down his neck and cheeks.

eddie wanted that reaction always, so he’d bring you apple after apple, proudly propping them on your desk each day with a little note.

‘you’re the apple of my eye, sweetheart. have a good day. -ed’

you’d giggle, tucking them into your purse. you’d saved everyone, reading them later when you missed him, heart fluttering in your chest.

one day, eddie walks into his ‘office’- a storage closet with a chair and an old desk, a rack to hang his jacket. there where he put his lunch pail was a small tin of hand balm, ‘for working hands’ it read.

eddie’s heart swelled. he’d complained about the blisters and callouses from working at the school mixed with his guitar making his hands rough, the cold cracking them and making them bleed. when he held his hand in yours, you’d ran a finger over the cracked, raw skin with a sympathetic pout.

eddie picked up the tin, the best folded card on top reading:

‘a little of this cream keeps the callouses away (or that’s what the store clerk told me). hope this helps you my hard working man. xoxo’

eddie slipped it into his front pocket, a dopey grin on his face. he dug his fingers into the balmy substance, rubbing it over his hands before reaching into his lunch pail, grabbing the shiny, red apple out and starting towards your class room.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Something dark... maybe like Eddie lived but was displaced by the Gov... and like 5 years later you find him.. in a little hole in the wall and maybe a little angst.. maybe a little smut maybe a little longing.. falling back together etc.. idk Something freaky fresh 🤪

Okay, I love this idea! But I’m going to change it a little if you don’t mind!

Eddie x fem!reader

cw: MDNI (18+) unprotected sex (please don’t do this) fingering, angst, grief, whole lot of hurt/comfort

It had been five years since Eddie had passed away down to the day. It was a day that was one of the hardest of the year for you. It felt like it had just happened and the emotional wounds were still fresh, still exposed and you were hurting more than ever.

You had been going to therapy ever since, but the nightmares never stopped even though they were less frequent. You could still feel Steve pulling you away from Eddie while you watched his lifeless body lay there, covered in blood. You felt his hand let go of yours and the life left his eyes. You screamed his name over and over, but he never responded. He was officially dead.

The funeral was rough. The very few people who showed up sobbed the entire time and you all huddled together, vowing that you would be there for each other. And you were. You all had dinner together almost every night and it was pretty much the only thing you looked forward to in your life.

Every single year on the anniversary of Eddie’s death, you went to his favorite bar that was a few towns over and ordered his favorite drink to honor him. It was your own little tradition and everyone knew not to bother you while you spent the day by yourself while you mourned your dead boyfriend who very much should have been alive.

What you didn’t know what that Eddie was very much alive. After he had escaped the Upside Down, he had somehow stumbled upon a hospital that had nursed him back to health. He had no idea what had happened to everyone, so he decided that he wouldn’t call anyone and go into hiding to avoid the police no matter how much he wanted to see if you were okay.

He ended up heading to the town with the bar that he loved, knowing that he was far enough away from home that no one would recognize him. It was a win-win all around. But he missed you. He missed you so fucking much that he could hardly stand it and he felt so guilty for not contacting you and telling you the truth.

So, he dealt with it the only way he how. He drank away his problems. He’d go to the bar every day and order margarita after margarita and throw them back like they were water. Maybe it wasn’t the best coping mechanism, but it was the only way he knew how to deal with the pain.

You sat on your favorite stool and ordered a margarita, holding back your tears as you waited for your drink. You lowered your head so no one could see your face and your drink was set in front of you along with a plate of mozzarella sticks. You looked up at the bartender and he gave you a wink as he pushed the plate towards you.

“On the house. You look like you could use something comforting.” The nice gesture made you tear up even more. You weren’t hungry, but you felt like it would have been rude not to eat them, especially since he wasn’t going to make you pay for them.

“Thanks,” you smiled weakly. You took one of the sticks from the plate and took a bit despite your nausea and ate until the plate was empty. You hadn’t eaten anything that day because your grief had been taking up your thoughts.

“Of course,” he nodded then turned to take care of the customer who was sitting a couple of stools away from you. You turned to look at them and did a double take, absolutely sure that your mind was playing tricks on you. There was no way that your dead boyfriend was sitting right there. It wasn’t possible.

You were sure that you were hallucinating. The guy looked like Eddie but it couldn’t be him. You missed Eddie so much that you were imagining him to make yourself feel better. Maybe if you reached out to touch him, you could confirm that it really wasn’t him. You just wanted to be sure so you could put it out of your mind and put your curiosity to rest.

You tried to get off your stool, but the whole thing ended up toppling to the floor, taking you with it. The loud sound of it hitting the hard wood made everyone turn to you. You weren’t sure why, but your ears were ringing. You couldn’t hear anything but muffled voices as everyone in the bar hovered over you to see if you were okay.

“I’m good, I’m good,” you assured them as you sat up, actually telling the truth this time. Your arm hurt a little, but other than that, you were okay. You didn’t even care anyway, the man making his way towards the front of the crowd being the only thing on your mind.

Once they confirmed you were okay, everyone dispersed and went back to their tables, leaving you and the stranger alone. He was looking at you with wide eyes like he couldn’t believe you were there and your expression matched his. His eyes were watery as he reached up to touch your face, his thumbs wiping away your own tears.

“I knew it was you,” you told him, throwing yourself into his arms and he was quick to catch you, wrapping them around your waist tightly. You sobbed in each other’s arms for what felt like a while then pulled away, your lips attaching to his in a messy kiss. You tasted something salty and realized that it was the tears that you had both cried but that didn’t stop you from breaking apart until you both needed to catch your breath.

He took you by the hand and led you outside and down the block to an apartment building so the two of you could have some privacy. Part of you felt like you were in a very surreal dream but feeling his hand in yours made you realize that he was actually there. Right in front of you.

As happy as you were that he was alive, he had lied to you. For five years you thought he was dead and he had failed to contact you even though you were his fucking girlfriend. He had told you had he loved you in the Upside Down when he was dying in your arms, but apparently it wasn’t a lot since he had kept something like that from you.

He pulled you over to the elevator and pressed the button that would take the two of you up to his apartment. The doors opened not too long after and he pulled you inside, his lips attaching to yours once again. You felt a pit in your stomach and pushed him away, causing him to hit the wall.

“Still like it rough, huh?” He asked, his lips chasing yours, but you kept your hand on his chest, keeping him against the wall. Tears welled up in your eyes again and Eddie’s face softened, the lust completely gone from them. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? You lied to me, Eddie. You’ve been alive this whole time and didn’t even think to contact me?”

“I was trying to protect you. I knew that the police would be after me if I came back to you. I know it was selfish and I’m sorry, so sorry, baby.” That made sense to you, but it didn’t make you feel any better. Did he think that you would tell anyone? Because you wouldn’t have. Not if he didn’t want you to. He had your full trust. Always.

“You still could have called me. I could have hid you just as well.” Eddie knew that and he wanted it so bad, but as time went on, the guilt was too much to bear and he couldn’t stand to see the look on your face when you found out that he was actually alive. The look you were giving him right now.

“I know, I know. And I’m sorry. You have no fucking idea.” His hands cradled your face and you let him wipe your tears away. “You can say anything you want to me right now and I won’t blame you. I’m a fucking dick-”

“You’re not a dick, Eddie. You were just doing what you thought was right. And as mad as I am right now, I’m just so fucking grateful that you’re alive.” You pulled him in for a kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible. The elevator doors opened and Eddie grabbed onto the backs of your thighs and lifted, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist. His hands held onto them as he carried you to his apartment, only breaking your kiss to fish his keys out of his wallet. Once the door was unlocked, he slammed it closed with his leg then attached his lips to yours once more.

You licked into his mouth as he set you down on the kitchen counter, neither one of you able to make it to his room. Your pants and underwear were off in a flash and Eddie spread your legs open to get a good look at your sopping wet cunt. You were nervous because you hadn’t shaved, but he didn’t seem to give a single fuck about that.

“Glad to know I can still get you so fucking wet,” he chuckled. “You’re soaked.”

“And desperate,” you replied breathlessly. If he didn’t do something right then, you were going to have to take care of it yourself. “Haven’t fucked anyone in five years.”

“Me neither, sweetheart. Gonna need to open you up, huh?”

“Eddie, hurry,” you urged and as soon as the words left your mouth, he shoved his fingers inside your cunt. “Oh,” you moaned, realizing just how much you missed the feeling. Your fingers didn’t do the job nearly as well as Eddie’s.

“Fuck, angel, you’re so tight,” he commented as his fingers pumped in and out of you. “Gonna be good as new when I’m done with you.”

“So good,” you whined, leaning your head back, your eyes closing in pleasure as Eddie fucked his fingers in and out of you.

“Don’t go dumb on me now, angel,” he urged. “Haven’t even gotten inside of you yet.” His fingers moved harder and faster inside of you and you came undone at the feeling, forgetting just how good it felt to have him do that sort of thing to you.

“Need your cock, Eddie.”

“Don’t have any condoms.” That was the least of your worries. You needed him right then.

“I don’t care. I haven’t fucked anyone and neither have you and I’m still on birth control. So let’s do this.”

“Still needy for me, huh? Some things never change.”

“Eddie, hurry up before I care of it myself.” Your eyes bored into his and he got rid of his jeans and boxers, his dick springing free. It was bigger than you remembered and you wondered if it would even fit.

He lined himself up with your cunt and pounded into you, his lips meeting yours in a filthy kiss, his tongue scraping against yours as he continued to pound into you. You moaned into his mouth and the sound was just as delicious as he remembered. His lips moved to your neck as he hips bucked against yours so his mouth wasn’t muffling the sounds falling from your lips.

“Feel so good, baby. Still know how to take me so well,” he whined. “God, you’re so hot.”

Your back arched as he moved faster, his dick hitting just the right spot to make you melt. You were already reaching your orgasm and he had barely even done anything. Your vision went hazy from absolute euphoria he kept going and his moans were doing wonders for your already sopping wet pussy.

“Look so hot taking my cock, baby. Guess I’ve still got it.”

“Eddie, I think I’m gonna-” you finally reached your climax and felt embarrassed that it was so quick, but Eddie was not long after you, his body leaning over yours as he reached his own peak.

“Guess I did too,” he chucked, as he wiped the sweat from your forehead. “Did so well, sweetheart,” he praised as he pressed his lips to yours. “And again, I’m so sorry.”

“We can work through it,” you rubbed your thumb along his cheek. “I know it’s still daylight, but can we please go to bed?”

“Sure we can, sweetheart.” He picked you up and carried you to the bathroom to clean the both of you up and once you were all done, you both got into the bed and got the best sleep of your life because you both were finally reunited. And there was no way that Eddie was going to let you go ever again.

[harrywavycurly]

Secret Rendezvous Part 19: Good Idea

Masterlist: Here

CW: Language

Tag List: @emma-munson @aol19 @tlclick73 @prestinalove @kailey-firefly @fromasgardandback @therealgothamguardianfr @peaches-roses-sins @hiscrimsonangel @furiousladyking @angelina16torres-blog @sofaritsalrightt @josephquinnsfreckles @starrywhitenight @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @jasminelafleur @ohmeg @comeonatmebruh @missmarch-99 @arthurcerverogf @disassociationdive @123iloveyou456 @perplexing-vex

A/N: This takes place the same day as part 18, and the next part is the last one for this series and I’m sad but I know y’all will love it✨

“Jesus I’ve been looking everywhere for you…why are you out here?” “I was hoping to be alone…what do you need Emerson?” “I need you to tell me why you thought asking her to fucking prom was a good idea when the two of you haven’t talked in-” “Chrissy said I needed to show her I didn’t give a fuck about what other people think about us being together so why wouldn’t I ask her to prom? That’s…what…normal couples do isn’t it? Go to dances and shit?” “Uh yeah Eddie key word there is couples…you two aren’t even friends!” “We are now…we talked about it at lunch today…” “Oh…well that’s….that’s good.” “She hasn’t listened to the tape yet…thinks it was fucking Henry who gave it to her.” “Yeah she’s going to figure it out pretty quickly it wasn’t him…assuming you actually sing the songs right? Or did you just-” “Yes I actually sang the songs I’m not going to half ass this shit…I can’t risk fucking it up again…” “So…you love her don’t you?” “What?” “Oh come on man you asked her to prom with a mixtape of songs you covered yourself…you totally fucking love her.” “Okay…and what if I do?” “Uhm…you should tell her.” “I’ll wait and see how she feels after listening to the tape…did you know she was co Captain of the cheerleading squad?” “Yeah…I saw it on her jacket she wears on game days.” “Oh…I guess I never noticed…” “there’s a lot of shit you don’t notice about her…but If you’re serious about wanting to be in a relationship with her and if you’re in love with her you gotta get better at just…being interested in the things she’s into.” “I know…I uh actually watch her perform sometimes at the games I just don’t sit in the stands.” “That’s not creepy at all…” “fuck off…I just…I’m going to try and be there for more things when…or if…she even wants me there…she could really tell me to go fuck myself and I wouldn’t blame her.” “I doubt she’ll tell you that…but I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses because it was hard watching you fuck this up so badly…” “yeah?” “Yeah it was like watching a car wreck in slow motion…totally brutal.” “Well you could’ve tried to stop it at any point ya know?” “Uh I did try…but you’re so stubborn you just refused my help…but look at you now man…hiding from the girl you’re in love with outside under the bleachers…” “that’s what some people would call progress.” “Exactly….I’ll uh let you have your alone time now but uhm…really don’t let too much time go by before you tell her how you feel okay?” “Yeah I won’t…don’t worry.” “Oh please…you two manage to get into these weird fucking scenarios and all I can do is worry.” “Emerson…get outta here before I kick your ass…” “Right…leaving now…see you later Eddie.”

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Eddie is desperate to speak to you about what you saw in the woods but with Harrington guarding you at every turn how was that possible?

Jealous Eddie, 18+, misunderstandings, protective Steve. Robin is done with all this shit.

Part one here

💌♥️

You spend your time at Family Video trying to distract yourself from ever thinking you and Eddie could be something in the first place. It's hard though because at unexpected times the kiss will creep back into your mind and you were swept back into your deep feelings for Eddie once again.

It wasn't like there was an on or off switch to turn off how you felt. If only it was that easy.

Steve has been amazing, he's comforted you since you went into Family Video, tear filled eyes and lip trembling as you explained to him and Robin what happened.

The thing about Steve is since he's changed dramatically in the last few years, grown into a better man thanks to a knock on the head from various people (Nancy, Robin, You, Dustin and all the other little shits) he's also become more protective of everyone he cares about.

So seeing you teary eyed and that little pout on your face has sent all of his protective instincts going haywire, he can never resist a pout and puppy eyes-something the kids have picked up on and used to their advantage.

He's determined to do anything to protect you from Eddie hurting you even more, and it's not like he disliked the guy, Munson was cool. Hurt his friends though and any good will he had disappeared fast.

It doesn't help his irritation when Eddie is constantly everywhere he looks, he's driving you and Robin to school and Munson is watching with a pained expression.

Serves you right dickhead. He thinks to himself and wraps his around you, comfortingly when you freeze as you see Eddie.

The anguished expression on Eddie's face darkens into something else and he zeroes in on Steve's hand that is gently rubbing your shoulder.

Steve doesn't think it's the last he's seen of Munson, if his expression is any indication then he expects Eddie won't keep his feelings quiet for very long.

...

It takes less than a day for Eddie to show up at the store. You're working with Steve and watching IT to pass the long work day away.

"You know this feels so familiar" Steve smirks at you and you can't help but laugh, kids banding together to fight an ancient evil, it rings a few bells.

Eddie looks between you and Harrington, jealousy bubbles in his stomach and he grips the video he's holding tightly. Inside jokes, the two of you had inside jokes.

He swears under his breath, curses himself that he fucked up so badly. Wishes he could explain to you and tell you that Chrissy didn't mean anything, she was nervous getting weed for the first time and he just wanted to make her feel comfortable.

The only person he wanted was you but you had gotten things totally wrong. The jealousy twists in his gut again when Steve gently nudges your side as the two of you laugh over something.

He's itching to go up and talk to you but how could he when Harrington was like a guard dog.

Robin sidles up to him, returning tapes, she narrows her eyes at Eddie as he looks at her pleadingly all puppy eyed and pouty.

"Don't you do that look Munson, I'm as pissed at you as Steve is and I swear if you're hanging around to just break a certain someone's heart again then I'm borrowing Steve's bat and...' Eddie manages to intervene before she passes out from lack of oxygen.

"No, shit, that's not why I'm here Buckley. I came to apologise, beg for forgiveness. I am not interested in Chrissy. I've been crazy about princess for months and I'm kicking myself that I've messed things up" Robin deflates and softens just a tiny bit.

"Well why haven't you apologised?" she exclaims and then she turns around to look at Steve and sighs. "Yeah, it's not ideal when Steve is in "protective mode" but suck it up Munson" Eddie swallows feeling thoroughly chastised.

Suck it up and get his princess back. He could do that.

💞

Eddie doesn't come back to Family Video after his talk with Robin. The thought sours your mood because you guess he really doesn't care that you're hurting.

Or Robin and Steve have collectively scared him off.

Maybe he really did have chemistry with Chrissy and he would rather pursue her. The least he could do is tell you so you weren't surprised one day when he walked into Family Video with her.

Pissed off and in spite of yourself really missing Eddie you concentrate on rewinding the tapes that people had brought back. Ugh, be kind rewind. It was right there on the video cover, there were so many tapes to do and that was annoying you as well.

Just as Robin is talking about Vickie and asking you and Steve about ideas for a movie date, you're distracted as Eddie comes in. Your heart skips a beat and his big brown eyes are full of nerves.

It really was time for you and Eddie to talk. Steve looks reluctant as you head over but you assure him you'll be fine.

"We need to talk, I'll be okay Steve. Promise" he nods but is still glaring at Eddie, his gaze darkening even more when Eddie approaches.

"Do not fuck this up Munson or you'll have me to answer to?" Eddie nods, his gaze is still on you.

Robin rolls her eyes as she looks between him and Eddie and gently pushes Steve back behind the counter. "Come on Steve, don't be a dingus and let them talk it out" Eddie throws a grateful smile Robin's way.

Once you're alone with Eddie he immediately launches into what he's been itching to say, he trips over his words a few times but he's desperate for you to understand that he's in no way interested in Chrissy, not one bit.

Eddie shakes his head. "I don't want Chrissy, I'm not interested in her, she is sweet but she's not you. I was goofing around when you saw us talking because she was nervous, it was her first time getting weed and I just wanted her to relax sweetheart, the only "spark" I feel is with you"

You smile feeling the stirrings of relief build up inside you. "I've been trying to tell you all week princess but I didn't want to fuck up any more and well, Steve hasn't exactly let me anywhere near you" he looks past you to Steve and you squeeze his hand.

"He's just protective that's all" you soften as you gaze at him, can sense that he's worrying, "Eddie there's nothing between me and Steve, he's my friend that's all" Eddie nods and brightens considerably.

"As long as Harrington knows that" you roll your eyes amused as Eddie straightens and tries to look intimidating to Steve.

"Yes he does, we're friends Eddie. He's just as protective of Robin" Eddie nods and presses a kiss to your head.

"I've missed you sweetheart" you lean into him and his arms wrap around you. You've missed him like crazy, "Maybe we could try this again princess? A proper date?" You nod and press a gentle kiss to his lips leaving you both a bit dazed but smiling happily at each other that everything is going to be okay.

♥️

[eddiesxangel]

Hi! Girly! I had a thought! I'm in a fluffy kinda sappy mood, and I'd like to see just an overwhelmed ready get coaxed by Eddie sweetly. Just encourages the reader to let it all out, and they embrace in a warm hug and kees♡

HI HONEY 🥰 I hope this is what you’re wanting 🥺

Life recently had been hard. Everything is overwhelming and you’ve been keeping it in for so long. You’re putting on a brave face but Eddie can tell something is wrong. You’re not acting like yourself.

“Baby you know you can always talk to me you know?” He turns to you as you’re both sat on your shared couch.

“Yea I know” you try and fake a smile.

“So if there is anything you want to talk about or… I don’t know, want me to listen to, I’m here for you.” He cups your face with one large palm.

The way he was looking at you was so genuine, you feel so loved by him and you feel like you don’t deserve it. He is so good to you, the best thing in your life.

So you break.

The tears started to slowly well up, threatening to break your lash line.

“I just don’t know how to do it all anymore” you sob and he pulls you into his arms. His strong arms wrap around you and pull you tight to his chest.

“It’s okay, baby. Let it out” he strokes your back, soothingly. His hold feels so comforting, so warm. You feel so loved with Eddie.

Your tears stain his shirt but Eddie didn’t care, he needs you to feel your feelings in order to feel better and all he wants is for you to feel betters he will do anything in his power to make that happen.

Eddie lets you cry for however long you need. For what felt like the longest time your muffled sobs and the tv are the only things that could be heard.

When you have no tears left to cry you raise your face from Eddie’s chest. Your eyes are so red and puffy but Eddie still thinks you’re the cutest person he’s ever seen.

He can’t help himself he needs to kiss the pout off your face. His lips catch you off guard but you welcome them. Finding comfort in the familiarity you can’t help but lean into it more.

“You’re so strong” Eddie pulls back and kissing your forehead before pulling you into his arms for a much needed cuddle session on the couch. “You’re so beautiful, you’re my best girl.” He says between kisses all around your face making you giggle finally.

“There she is, that’s my baby”

“I love you Eddie.”

“I love you more.”

[corroded-hellfire]

I genuinely wanna know about Brittany and Eddie's story. Like how did they meet? What kind of relationship did they have? Did they actually love each other at one point or were they just irrational horny?

I love that you want to know what led up to the toxicity that we see between the two of them now. That genuinely makes my heart so happy. Showing is easier than telling when it comes to the question “what did of relationship did they have?” so if you have any specific questions or scenarios you’d wanna hear about between them, I would be happy to elaborate! They did genuinely love each other at some point. Was it ever the same point in time? Ever the same amount? All things that are debatable. But yes, they both did truly love one another somewhere along the way. And as for how they met, I know Eddie briefly mentioned it to reader in the past, so I thought I might expand a bit on that here!

Warnings: Brittany cause she needs her own warning tbh, Eddie gets hard cause he’s a dumb young boy, reader is not in this

Words: 1.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

It’s been a good day for Eddie Munson so far. He came up with a great ending for the campaign he’s been hard at work on, Ms. O’Donnell had a substitute, and Jeff booked a new gig for Corroded Coffin next week. Now, to top it all off, he has one of his best customers meeting him, meaning he’ll score some great cash.

Eddie sits on top of the picnic table, metal lunchbox at his hip, tossing pretzels in the air and trying to catch them in his mouth. Two have hit him in the nose and one in the eye, but for the most part, he’s doing pretty well at it.

Distant giggling catches Eddie’s attention and he puts his baggie of pretzels back into the pocket of his jeans. Chrissy is always a bubbly person but even she doesn’t just laugh to herself for no reason. But she’s not alone, Eddie realizes as he glimpses two green cheerleader skirts approaching through the trees.

Hawkins High isn’t a big school, so Eddie’s seen all the cheerleaders around, even if he couldn’t tell you their names. Honestly, he probably wouldn’t be able to pick out their faces either if they weren’t in their uniforms. Why pay attention when sports are so far out of his realm?

Eddie fiddles with his cross ring as the girls approach and he can hear them talking, laughing over something together. He wonders if the other girl is here to score something too, or just tagging along with her friend. If she’s looking to buy, what could he talk her into?

A twig snaps as Chrissy finally steps into the small clearing, her friend a step behind her.

“Hey, Eddie,” Chrissy says, already reaching into her sweater pocket for the cash.

“Hi,” Eddie greets, but his gaze is already stuck on the second blonde cheerleader. Usually, there’d be a goofy smile on Eddie’s face if he were staring at a girl he was attracted to, but he has enough self awareness in the moment to realize he’s actually giving this girl a pretty charming smile.

Chrissy looks up and sees the two of them looking at one another. Brittany’s smiling right back at Eddie and it’s a smile Chrissy’s seen her friend give a million guys. Sighing as she counts the cash in her hand, Chrissy wonders if she should warn Eddie or if Brittany’s gaze will even stay on the metalhead for more than this afternoon.

“Um, the usual?” Chrissy asks, stepping closer to the picnic table.

No response. Eddie’s attention doesn’t stray from Brittany.

Chrissy purses her lips, silently wondering how long these two can stare at one another before someone busts them out here for doing a drug deal. Sure, no one ever comes out here but if these two don’t stop with the heart eyes, someone is bound to come by eventually. Maybe the cops when the three students never come home from school. Brittany’s parents are definitely the type to panic if they don’t know where their daughter is every minute of every day.

“Eddie?” Chrissy tries again.

“Huh?” Eddie blinks, tearing his gaze from the curvy stranger in front of him. “Oh, right. Uh, yeah. Half ounce? It’s fifteen.”

Chrissy hands him the cash and quickly stashes the small bag of green buds he hands her into the pocket of her sweater.

“And um,” Eddie drawls, eyes traveling back to Brittany, “what about you? Anything I can get you?”

The blonde with the heart-shaped face walks forward, hips swaying with every step. She gazes at Eddie from beneath her perfectly made up eyelashes and gives him a coy smile.

“I don’t think there’s anything in that little black box to satisfy me,” she says, her voice sickly sweet coming from those pretty pink glossed lips.

The sultriness in her tone goes straight to Eddie’s cock.

Swallowing down a groan and trying to conjure visions of Wayne’s old army buddies drunk and rowdy to diffuse his boner, Eddie slaps his ringed hands on his thighs.

“Well,” Eddie says, pushing himself up to stand on the wooden seat of the picnic table. He walks booted heel to toe until he comes to the edge of the wooden plank, then hops down, crushing autumn leaves beneath his feet. “You’ll just have to let me know what I can do to satisfy you, then.” Eddie slips his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and quirks up the corner of his mouth into a smile as he takes a few steps closer to Brittany. “Might even give you a discount.”

“Hmm,” Brittany hums, eyes clearly raking up and down Eddie’s form as she chooses her next words. “That’s a lot to consider. I think I’ll have to take some time to think on that one, Eddie Munson.”

His name on her lips throws him for a loop. Not that he wasn’t well-known around school for one reason or another, but the fact that she knows his name, who he is, and is still standing here flirting with him confounds him. Especially when she doesn’t even want to buy drugs.

“You know my name?” He’s aware it’s not the most suave thing to say, but his curiosity is far too piqued not to inquire further.

“I do,” is her only reply.

Eddie chuckles and presses a hand to his Metallica tee-clad chest.

“Isn’t it only fair I know the name of the fair maiden before me?”

Brittany giggles, her nose scrunching up as she turns her head to look at Chrissy.

“He is a nerd. But it’s adorable,” she says, looking back to Eddie.

Eddie sketches a bow, as if to further prove the point. It makes Brittany giggle again and the sound fills Eddie with excitement.

“I’m Brittany,” she introduces herself. “Brittany Sobachkin.”

Before Eddie gets the chance to say anything, Brittany grabs a black pen from an outer pocket of her backpack and shoves up the sleeve of Eddie’s leather jacket as far as it will go. The tip digs into his skin as she jots down seven numbers, replaces the cap, and puts the pen back in her bag.

“If you come up with anything you think can satisfy me, give me a call,” Brittany says.

Eddie stares at the numbers before lifting his head and nodding at the pretty blonde in front of him.

“I won’t let my brain rest until it comes up with something,” he vows.

Chrissy steps up next to Brittany and loops her arm through her fellow-cheerleader’s.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Chrissy says with a cheerful smile at the man, making it clear to the two others in the space that this is her initiating the goodbye. “Same time next week, yeah?”

“I’ll be here.” Eddie shrugs, turning to look around at the small clearing surrounding them.

“Will I have to wait that long to hear from you?” Brittany asks, lower lip sticking out in a pout.

“Absolutely not,” Eddie says with a bright grin.

“Good.” Brittany steps forwards and takes the pick necklace hanging around Eddie’s neck in between two of her perfectly manicured fingers. “I’ll see you around, Eddie.”

“You know where to find me.” He internally winces, wishing he could’ve come up with something better to say, but the girls are already turning away.

“Bye,” Chrissy trills, waving over her shoulder.

Eddie lifts one hand out of his pocket to give a single wave in return.

Once Eddie can no longer hear the girls’ fading footsteps in the leaves or twigs, he lets out a loud, large sigh, and collapses back against the picnic table.

“Well, fuck,” he says to himself with a small laugh. “I’m gonna marry her someday.”

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man 12

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: You go to your audition, but things never go as planned.

CW: Unwanted flirting, Chris Morrison

5.4 Words

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11)

When you weren’t busy with work, talking to Eddie, spending time with Steve, or sleeping, you were working on your audition. You’d called Chris one time in the week that led up to the audition time, and in that thirty second phone call you had learned absolutely nothing about what to actually prepare for the audition. 

You’d been on stage before, but you didn’t exactly have to audition for the middle school talent show in 8th grade. Everyone was forced into it, so you were put into the show by default, not that you minded. But, that wasn’t exactly a good example as your act had gone disastrously and you pushed down that memory every time it reared its ugly head. 

When you thought of being on stage, you preferred to think of your first time as the Virgin Sacrifice, or the time that you had been in the school’s production of Our Town two years ago. You’d signed up for auditions as a way for extra credit, and had been cast as part of the ensemble and had even been given three full lines. 

That had been the first time you had noticed Robin Buckley, actually. You didn’t talk to her at all during the audition, but you remembered her reading off the script so passionately it actually took your breath away. It had also taken Robin’s breath away as well, unfortunately, as she had finished her speech and promptly passed out cold. 

The next time you remembered really noticing her was at prom a few months later when she had burst in, her dress cut up and looking damn near manic. She’d danced once with Sheena Rollands and then had been chased out of prom. You remembered this distinctly because she looked, well, way cooler than anyone there. Her hair was choppy and messy, and her dress looked like it had been hacked at as well, with stars sewn onto the new hemline. She looked like a rebel, like someone who mattered. You could never actually be cool like that, as much as you wished you could. 

You had heard rumors that she was on the run from Hopper for being a runaway that night, but that seemed stupid because what runaway would run away to her high school prom?

You’d asked her about it a few weeks into working with her at Family Video, and she just shrugged and said that Paris had been the goal, but Prom was more feasible that night. You didn’t press further. 

With that small shared connection though, Robin had helped you put together something that resembled an audition. Chris had said that all you needed to do was show up bu it didn’t feel right to show up to a real audition like it was your school play, so you roped Robin into helping you find some sort of speech to give as well as re-watching your video copy of the movie, doing your best to mimic the choreography on screen, both in dancing and in general blocking. 

The VHS tape got a work out with the constant pausing and rewinding. You and Robin had spent a good afternoon with her directing you on your lip syncing and movements. By the end of the afternoon, the two of you had worked out something that you hoped showed that you belonged in the show. 

You zipped up your jacket as you stepped out of your car, and made your way to the theater. There weren’t any cars in the parking lot other than yours, which should have been your first red flag. You had double and triple checked the time, and yes, you were set to meet up for auditions in the next seven minutes. 

The sun was setting over the old theater, bathing the world in gold and red. It was late in the afternoon and as you approached the old marquis, you wondered briefly how Eddie’s lunch went. You pushed that down, not wanting to think about your crush and guy you were kind-of-sort-of seeing spending time with an old flame. 

This wasn’t about him, this afternoon was about you and you alone. 

Your stomach flipped as you approached the heavy wooden doors. You went to push and realized they were locked and the ‘closed’ sign hung there as if to say don’t you know what time it is? Why are you here?

You knew what time it was, you’d been checking your watch every two minutes since you parked. 

Was this some sort of prank by Chris? Another false hope that you could be part of something? To feel like someone? To matter? 

It was five minutes after your alleged call time, and you were about to turn around and go home and give up. Maybe you’d shake down Steve and Robin for a pity party where you could gripe and watch a shitty movie. No wait, they worked tonight. Eddie? You didn’t know if you were ready to know how his lunch went. Maybe you needed more friends. 

Long shadows started to cast across the parking lot from the theater that loomed over you. Without the bright welcoming lights of the marquis, the building felt more foreboding, towering over you as if judging your worth to even be here when casual moviegoers weren’t around. You felt small, the lack of lights telling you that you didn’t belong anywhere, let alone in a spotlight. What were you really doing here?

You started walking away, and had made it five steps before you heard the slow creek of the front door opening, and the sound of someone calling out your name. You turned, and Chris was there opening the door and giving you a smile. He was fully clothed and, thankfully, not wearing those metallic gold shorts you had seen him in last. 

“Sorry about the wait, I lost track of time.” Chis beckoned you in and you hesitated for a moment before following you inside. 

“I thought more people would be here.” You said, trying to ignore the way Chris’s hand lightly pressed on your lower back as he ushered you into the empty lobby. The air smelled like stale popcorn and felt stagnant, like no one had turned on the air since Halloween. Your voice felt too loud in the empty room, as if your presence was a disturbance when the theater wasn’t bustling with people.

“I’m keeping the auditions private. I’ve had people come in and out all day.” Chris explained, leading you towards an ‘Employees Only’ door. “I have a form for you to fill out and then we can start.”

“You’ve been having people...?” Wait, was Chris in charge of the audition?

“Oh, did I not mention?” Chris looked at you. “My dad owns the theater now.”

No, he had not mentioned that. He had failed to mention a lot of things, actually. He didn’t mention that his dad owned the theater now, he didn’t mention it would be a private audition, and he certainly hadn’t mentioned that he was in charge of whether you’d be in or out. Again. 

There have been some recent changes to management. That’s what Chris had said that night. The Halloween show had sucked because Chris’s dad took over the theater-

A clipboard appeared in front of you, snapping you out of it. You took it, looking over the form. 

“It’s just to keep track of who’s been auditioning.” He said. “Basic things, name, number, any experience you’ve had.”

You took a seat in the office, while Chris leaned against the desk, watching you. You really wished he’d look anywhere else while you filled out the basic information needed. When it came to “on stage” experiences you put down your ensemble experience for Our Town and stopped. 

“Feel free to put down the talent show.” Chris laughed. “I think it fits in with the show perfectly, Miss Pussy Lover.”

You winced at the nickname, and there was a voice in the back of your head that told you to crack the clipboard over his head and storm out. Stubbornness made you stay and give an awkward laugh. He wasn’t... completely wrong. Your talent show act had caused a commotion among your peers in a way that had followed you into high school. It was too much to hope that everyone would have forgotten about that almost seven fucking years later, you guessed. 

“Yeah, it wasn’t supposed to be taken that way, but at least it means I’m not afraid to say dirty things on stage.” Your words felt forced, and you didn’t like how it made you feel. Making dirty jokes with Steve and Robin was a daily activity, you trusted them and had fun doing that. Making dirty jokes with Eddie was especially fun, and the attraction you felt towards him helped with that.

“Good, because that’s what this show is about.” Chris’s face looked smug.

“So, your dad owns the theater now?” You asked, trying to keep conversation focused and relevant. 

“Yeah, he took over a few months ago. He bought it off the old owners, and we’ve been working with the Rocky Horror troupe since.” Chris said. “Since management is now owned by my dad, he put me in charge of it.” 

Things were starting to make sense, and you didn’t like it. That voice in your head was getting louder now, saying that this wasn’t a good idea. 

“So you’re in charge of the shadow cast and production?” You couldn’t keep the skepticism out of your voice. 

“I enjoyed running tech for the school play, I figured I could run this.” He smirked. 

Straight into the ground. You thought, remembering how Columbia and Riffraff had been talking to each other in the corner that night. 

“So, did you have anyone in mind that you were wanting to audition for?” Chris asked, ignoring whatever face you were making. 

“Uh, I always really liked Janet and Columbia.” you offered, trying to focus. “I actually got really bored one winter and glued pennies onto an old pair of shoes to make some fake tap shoes. I tried to learn Columbia’s choreography but I ended up slipping and spraining an ankle instead.” 

That little stunt had you spending the holidays with your foot propped up on a pillow while you binged holiday movies and ate junk food. There had been worse ways to spend that week, especially since all of your friends at the time had been busy with their own families. 

Chris’s laugh echoed through the small office and you would have bet that it could be heard in the empty lobby. You had meant for the story to be a little humorous, but he was acting like you’d told the funniest joke in the world. 

“Didn’t realize you were such a clutz, Miss Pussy Lover.” He said as he calmed down. 

“Please don’t call me that.” you said. “And I didn’t realize how slippery pennies would be on the wood floor.”

Chris’s hand clapped down on your shoulder as he retrieved the form from you. “It’s fine, it’ll be the perfect name for you while you’re with the troupe.” 

“I’m not in yet, so just my name is fine for now.” you said a bit more firmly, standing up and sliding out of his grasp. 

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I think you’re already going to fit in.” he continued, standing way too close for your comfort. “I already like you more than anyone else who’s auditioned today. And you’re in luck, our Columbia just quit.” Chis’s eyes looked you up and down. “But, I think you’d be a better Janet. You’d look good in her outfits.”

Janet had two main outfits outside of the end of the movie. The first outfit was a simple sweater and blouse with a long skirt, sweet and modest. In the second half of the movie, she was running around in a bra and slip. It was clear what outfit he was talking about. 

“Actually, let’s start with having you read for Janet.” He continued and went to the desk and pulled out a piece of paper. “How about we start with the scene where Janet takes care of Rocky when he’s scared and injured?”

Oh. You hadn’t thought about that. You took a small step back and he took a step forward. Chris wanted you to act out the part of the movie where Janet decides to seduce Rocky and sleep with him, turning her officially into a “slut”. 

“I’d actually really rather audition for Columbia.” you said, handing the paper back over. Chris pushed it back into your hands and stepped forward again, and you bumped against the chair that you’d been sitting on before. 

“We can have you read for Columbia, but I think we should start with Janet.” He insisted. “Janet is cuter anyway, and you’ve gotten a lot cuter since school.” 

The voice in your head was now ringing every alarm bell, and before you could say anything, Chris kept talking. 

“I can make you Janet easily.” he said. “She’s basically the lead. I’ve seen your energy at the shows, so I know you can handle it.”

“I... listen, I really don’t think-”

“You don’t need to think. Just listen to me and follow my direction.” Chris said, smirking down at you. He had a good six inches on you, but thankfully he didn’t move any closer. “Hey, you’ve heard of a casting couch right?” 

Time froze for a second and your blood ran cold. “Wh.... what?”

“It’s fine. If you’re worried about protection, this is Rocky Horror. I have plenty of condoms-”

Chris was on the floor, grabbing his crotch before you realized what you had done. 

As you burst through the lobby doors, the sound of your shoes echoed through the empty lobby. Your eyes blurred and stung, unable to allow yourself to take in the sight of the place that had been your safe haven for the past two years. In just ten minutes it was tarnished, ruined by the idea that you could ever really belong where you wanted to. You didn’t fit in here, you didn’t fit in anywhere. Rocky Horror, Hellfire, school, work, it was all the same. Who were you trying to fool? You were a background character, an npc, an extra. And that’s all you would be. 

The shadow of the theater stretched and followed you to your car, not quite touching it as you hopped inside and slammed on the gas. You didn’t even care that Chris was being sleazy, you’d dealt with creeps before. This was the first time that you had kneed one in the crotch though. 

It was the humiliation that every time you tried to fit in or stand out you were shoved back down. Every time you reached out to be something else, reality brought you back down to earth. You had told yourself that you were different now, that you weren’t the same person you were in high school, but was that really true? The talent show, Halloween, Rocky Horror, all desperate attempts to stand out, only to be dragged down. 

You were a fish out of water, and you had been holding your breath for so long that it was catching up to you. You couldn’t breathe. 

You were drowning. 

Getting back home was a blur. You were probably speeding, but it didn’t matter. You just needed to get as far away from that theater as possible. Tears spilled over. 

You didn’t even get to say goodbye. 

Now here you were, in your room, in the dark. Night had fallen quickly after you’d left and it looked black as midnight outside, despite being early in the evening still. 

The plastic gray phone in your hand droned on as you held it off its hanger. That one low note, continuous and echoing in your lonely apartment. That voice in your head that you had tried to ignore earlier was telling you something new, and this time you intended to listen to it. 

The numbers you pressed were a ten note song that sung in your head every time you had dialed it over the past week. 

The phone rang for an eternity, you counted. Each ring sounded like a hundred years, and as you heard that final ring start its long note, it cut off. There was a click, and for a moment you resurfaced and felt oxygen returning to your lungs for just the briefest moment. 

“Hello?”

“Hey.... Eddie?” your voice squeaked over the first syllable of his name. “Sorry I... Can you come pick me up? I’m at home.” 

“I’ll be right there.” There wasn’t a question in his voice, not hesitation. Just a simple statement. The last thing you heard was a distant jingle of keys and then a click as Eddie hung up, leaving you to wait for that next breath.  

“So... what happened?” 

It was the first time that Eddie had said anything since you had jumped in his van four seconds after he parked. You had immediately shaken your head and turned up the volume on the tape that he had been playing, needing to hear something as hurt and furious as you felt. 

That had been ten minutes ago, and now you were in a place where you felt like you were finally able to talk. You turned down the volume and took a deep breath. 

“Chris’s dad owns the theater now.” you said, your voice sounded so distant to you. 

“He- wait, Chris Morrison’s dad owns the theater now?” Eddie repeated and you could only nod your head. 

“Yeah. He owns the theater. Chris was put in charge of the show. He uh....” you took a deep breath and watched intently as the streetlights passed by in a constant flash of warm yellow. “He made a move on me.” 

Eddie’s head snapped to the side to look at you before remembering that he needed to pay attention to the road. 

“I thought that I was going there to audition.” you started telling him everything. You told Eddie how Chris had been using the audition to get laid and that you had blacked out and had probably kicked him in the dick when he made a pass at you. 

Eddie had a stone face as he stared out the windshield, a stone face of a very pissed gargoyle. 

“Did he touch you?” he asked, and you noticed he had a death grip on the steering wheel. 

“Only on my shoulder.” you said. “He didn’t like touch me, touch me.”

Touch-a touch-a touch-a touch me!

You never wanted to hear that song again. 

Eddie didn’t relax at that, and still looked pissed. “You really kicked him in the nuts?” 

“Yeah, I remember him saying something about condoms and then he was on the ground grabbing his dick.” You said, running your hands over your thighs. “I’ve never hit anyone before.”

“He deserved it.” Eddie said. 

“Yeah, but... I don’t know. I feel weird about the whole thing.” You sighed, rubbing your face in frustration. “I’m pissed. Chris hitting on me was just the cherry on top. I knew it was too easy trying to be part of this, and now I’ll never be able to go back.”

“I’ll be surprised if there are any shows after this.” Eddie said. “Everything Chris touches turns to shit. He dropped Hellfire and I had to pick up the pieces. Maybe someone will be able to pick the show back up in the future.” 

It was a nice sentiment, but it did nothing but tell you that maybe one day you’ll find a piece of driftwood to cling to. 

“I don’t know what to do now.” The paved road turned to dirt and gravel as Eddie pulled into his neighborhood. Trailers and RVs of different shapes and sizes were scattered around, and you could barely see the dirt road as Eddie pulled up next to one. You assumed this was his home. It occurred to you that you had never asked where Eddie lived before. You two had only ever hung out at The Hideout or in his can before. 

Eddie didn’t make a move to get out after he parked. It was pretty common, the two of you sitting in here for hours just talking and getting to know each other. 

“The show was the one place outside of work and home that I felt like I could actually belong.” You said, hating that you were dumping all your shitty problems on him. “Once a month I had a place where people didn’t expect anything out of me. I didn’t have to be the assistant manager, I didn’t have to struggle to fit in, and I didn’t feel out of place.”

You leaned back in your seat, rubbing your eyes to rid the tears that threatened to start up again. This was so fucking embaressing, crying in front of the guy you liked after you begged him to pick you up after a bad day. 

“I know that The Hideout isn’t exactly the most, uh, glamorous place.” Eddie said slowly, knocking his rings against the steering wheel. “We don’t exactly draw a crowd, and it’s not brimming with freaks like you’re used to, but you can come any time we’re playing.” Eddie turned and grinned at you. “If you want I can drag you on stage to dance with us, if it helps. You could heckle us, too. It’s been a while since we’ve had someone throw something at us on stage. It’d keep us humble.”

You found yourself grinning back, unable to stop the rumble in your chest as laughter escaped you. 

Eddie took that as a sign to keep going. “I think you’d do better at it than our normal drunks.” he continued. “See, you actually listen to our music. You’d get creative with your insults. I’ll write out copies of our lyrics and give you a head start. You can start throwing dice at us. I think I can handle being called a ‘satanist freak’ if it’s from you. Maybe you can start doing some satanic chants during some songs-” 

“Oh my god, Eddie.” You laughed, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a weirdo?” 

“Excuse you, I am the mean and scary freak of Hawkins.” Eddie said seriously, placing a hand over his heart. “I will not settle for anything less, sweetheart.” 

Your heart jumped at the nickname and the warmth in your cheeks from your laughter intensified. 

“My apologies, Mr. The Freak. I’ll be sure to address you properly next time.” you rolled your eyes, but your smile was sincere. 

“Please, Mr. The Freak was my father. You can just call me Eddie.” He leaned against the seat, his side pressed against it as he looked over at you with a smile. 

You offered your hand to him in greeting. “Hello, you can just call me ‘weirdo’ or ‘that one girl’ or ‘hey you.’” you said as he took your hand and shook it. 

“It’s nice to be properly introduced.” Eddie said with a snort. His hands felt warm in yours despite the chill in the air. 

You felt better, you were still pissed as hell and upset, but you at least didn’t feel like crying. 

“I hope your day went better than mine.”  With the Chris drama being put aside for a moment, you might as well pull the pin out on this conversation. You didn’t want to have it, you really didn’t, but you liked Eddie. You really really liked him, and you decided it was better to know sooner rather than later what the deal with him and his ex was. 

Eddie blinked his eyes in surprise that you were the one to start the conversation. He looked thrown off for a moment, but shook it off quickly. 

“Paige is in charge of a new-ish label that she’s trying to get set up in Hawkins.” Eddie started. “She wants Corroded Coffin to audition for a chance to be signed.”

“Holy shit, that’s amazing.” you said, and you meant it. You had only seen them play a few times, but each time you felt like they belonged to something bigger. Even on a small stage, they acted like they were playing in front of a crowd of thousands. “You’re gonna do it, right?”

“Yeah, I... I really can’t pass this up. I mean, I still need to tell the rest of the guys and get their input but I doubt they’ll turn it down.” Eddie said. 

“Even a small label is a big deal, right? That means you’d be able to record and play somewhere outside of the Hideout.” you said. 

“Paige said that she wants us to audition by the end of the year and if things go well, then she could have us in a studio by summer.” 

“Wow.” you breathed out, leaning back against the seat. “So, can I get you to autograph a few things now to get ahead of the crowd? I figure one or two for me to keep then a few more for me to sell off as you get bigger.”

“Ha ha, real funny.” Eddie said dead pan. 

“I’m not joking.” you said. “I got bills to pay, and you’re about to be signed. Help a girl out!”

“We haven’t even set up the audition.” 

“So? She flew out here, told you that she wanted you to audition and that she could have you in a recording studio next year! I really doubt that she would tell you all of that unless she already had you planned for the roster.” you pointed out. “It sounds like the audition is more of a formality.” 

“You really think so?” Eddie asked, perking up slightly. He hadn’t thought about it like that. 

“I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but it can’t have been horrible if she wants to sign you still.” You added. 

Eddie had an expression on his face that you couldn’t read.

“I guess.” He shrugged, but he didn’t seem convinced. 

“Either way, I hope your audition goes better than how mine just went.” 

Eddie took a deep breath. “Paige tried to kiss me.” he said quickly, and all that anxiety from the day shot back up. 

“Oh.” You failed to sound neutral about what Eddie had just said, disappointment clear in your voice. 

“No, I- I turned her down.” Eddie clarified. “After the meeting she started leaning in and I told her no, that it wasn’t a good idea.”

“Oh...?” you were searching for words, but nothing else came out. 

“I also...” He hesitated for a moment, messing with one of his rings. “I told her I was seeing someone.” 

“Oh!” It was your turn to be surprised, and once again you felt the warmth in your cheeks. “How’d she take it...?”

“She took it well.” Eddie said. “I don’t think she was really thinking it through when she tried. I think she just got caught up in this fantasy about me being some sort of rock hero. It’s business, that’s all it is. Paige even said that it wouldn’t ever actually work between the two of us.”

“She’s not pulling a Chris right?”

“No, she said that the audition is still on with or without any entanglement.” He promised.

“And you don’t have any romantic feelings for her?” You asked. 

Eddie shook his head. “No. I don’t.”

You believed him. You didn’t have any reason not to anyway. Eddie had been up front about his relationship with Paige every step of the way. If Eddie had been a lesser person, he wouldn’t have told you that she was his ex and he really wouldn’t have said anything about an almost kiss. 

Plus, when he said he was seeing someone your stomach felt like it was full of butterflies and glitter and that was something you were having a really hard time ignoring.

“Alright, I trust you.” you nodded. “At least one of us should have something good come out of this night. I’m happy for you, really. I want this to work for you.” 

“Thanks.” His voice was soft. “Do you uh, want to come inside?” 

When you had asked Eddie to pick you up, you hadn’t thought too far ahead of what that would mean or where you would go. You glanced at the trailer for a moment, and suddenly you were really curious about where he lived and what his room looked like. 

“Absolutely, I do.” you said. After the emotional roller coaster you had just been on today, you were fine with any kind of distraction. 

The two of you hopped out of the car, and Eddie swung the door to the trailer open for you and let you in first. It was a small trailer, with a living room, kitchen, and you could see the open door to Eddie’s bedroom from where you stood. 

“Do you have enough hats?” you asked, stepping into the living room and looking at the many hats and mugs that decorated the walls. “And mugs? I don’t think you have enough mugs. Whatever will you drink out of?”

“Those are all my uncles.” Eddie said, shrugging off his jacket. “He’s been collecting them since I could remember.” 

There were still hints of Eddie in the living room, despite his uncle's collection. A few papers were scattered on the coffee table, filled with numbers and notes next to a set of dice. On top of the tv there were a few VHS’s of old monster movies that you’d seen at your own job as well. 

“Sorry about the mess.” He had made his way to the kitchen and quickly disposed of something you couldn’t see in the trash. 

“You haven’t seen my apartment, don’t apologize.” you said, thinking back to the unwashed pile of dishes waiting for you in the sink at home. You should also really take out the trash and fold your laundry instead of tossing it all on the chair- 

“My room’s this way.” Eddie said. It occurred to you that the last time you followed a guy into a private room he tried to make a move on you. But when you thought of Eddie being the one to lean in and tell you that he had some condoms, you didn’t feel that disgust you felt earlier. You were actually finding yourself hoping that he’d make a move as you followed him to his room. 

Eddie Munson’s room looked exactly how it should. A hand made Corroded Coffin banner hung proudly over a stereo system, and the walls were more poster than paint. Every inch of the room proclaimed proudly who Eddie was and what he was about. It was loud, and cluttered, and lived in, and absolutely perfect. 

You watched as Eddie tried to subtly pick up some of the empty beer cans around the room and toss them in a small basket in the corner of the room. Your eyes were drawn to the nightstand where there was a small pile of tapes which you helped yourself to go through. 

“Eddie, what’s this?” You said with a snicker, holding up a cassette. 

“Shit, nothing!” Eddie reached out to snatch the tape from you, but you sidestepped him, looking it over.   

“ABBA!” You giggled. “Oooh, I am so telling your friends about this.”

“I’m holding it for a friend, I swear!” Eddie said defensively. “It’s not mine. I was peer-pressured. I don’t touch that shit. It’s Zacks!” 

You turned the tape over. “ABBA Arrival. I didn’t take you as a Dancing Queen fan. Are you really so young and sweet and only seventeen?” You continued to tease. 

“I’m not!’ Eddie tried to argue. “I’m old and bitter and an adult.” 

He took a step closer to you and you took a step back as he grabbed the tape out of your hand. You bumped against the nightstand, sending a book falling to the floor. 

“Oops, sorry.” you said and reached down to pick it up. It was a worn out copy of The Hobbit, and as you picked it up, the bookmark he had been using fluttered to the floor. 

You grabbed the construction paper stem and held it up, noticing that you also knew how to make this kind of flower. 

...You had made this kind of flower before. 

You stared at it for a moment, and then looked at Eddie. Your mind raced to that night at the theater under the yellowed light of the marquis, how it felt so familiar. You thought of the yearbooks you’d looked at and how every year Eddie’s hair got shorter he became more familiar. Eddie on stage. Eddie under a street light. Eddie playing guitar. 

Eddie. 

“Oh.” 

You remembered. 

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n

@mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea

@vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93

@perpetualmessmachine @thebook-hobbit @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh

@siriuslysmoking @huffledor-able541 @pookiesnatcher @eddiesguitarskills @browneyes-8288

@sheneedsrocknroll92

[ryan-waddell11]

he realized he forgot to eat his lunch

[djoseph-quinn]

It’s so crazy to think that I have read Eddie Munson/Joe Quinn fics nearly every day for the past 2 years.

[writinginthetwilight]

Neighbour!Eddie x Neighbour! Reader

Knock, knock.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ for smut in later parts if you are under 18 you do not belong here, be gone.

AFAB reader, use of the nickname sweetheart. Eddie pov. Reader pov. Fluff, yearning, awkward flirting, angst, jealous reader, depressive state, comfort, mentions of past toxic relationships, dubious explanations of electricals, stress. Strong language. Nightmares. Whispers in the walls. Horror/creepy vibes.

See Masterlist for full list of warnings.

Author note: Thank you for the love on the last chapter, you beautiful humans. I offer to you a vignette chapter that has a bit of everything, some burning in our slow burn between these two

Featuring some new… guests.

As always, all my love to @bettyfrommars @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing for writing the original prompt that birthed this weird little world and being wonderful.

Extra thanks to Somna for beta reading and letting me use their green carpet Eddie edit for the header💙.

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. Love you bye.

Part 7 - Vignette knots in Lachesis's thread.

“They moved the door.” one whispers

“They moved the door?”

“They moved the door.”

“Broke the hinges.” another hisses

“It doesn't fit.”

Drip.

He's not as quiet as he thinks he is.

It's an obvious hush.

One that floats through the silence of the morning, the cadence of his footsteps is soft but he's all elbows and heavy hands, clumsy movements and low mumbling.

The sound travels in under your bedroom door and pulls you gently from a reality you can't recall, you always drift back under once you hear him leave.

The sound of your alarm however, once chosen because of the relatively pleasant sound now grates immediately and has you reaching out blindly to turn it off as quickly as possible.

Stumbling from your room, the morning sun blinds you as it coats the walls in amber.

Cotton mouth and achy joints accompanying you as you stretch your arms above your head, a breath pausing in your chest as you spot the paper sticking out from underneath your front door.

Heavy ink is partially visible through the page as you pick it up, the paper folded twice into a rough square, the creases off centre and you flick the fanned edges which stick out as you start your morning.

You don't read it yet, you wait until there's hot tea and toast which is overdone on one side to accompany his words. Building a little excitement into the morning before the day gets going into a predictable routine.

Your knuckles press into your grin as your eyes finally take it in.

The first read is always a hurried intake of words, greedily consuming what he has to say. You'll read it again with more clarity once the sleep has been washed from you.

But his plans for the day aren't why you're smiling, there's a second page

“Thought I'd make you a character sheet.”

Apparently you're a rogue, and he's drawn you or, a version of you anyway. It's all crude black lines and blue ballpoint shading, you're grinning, nose high.

“Chaotic good.”

He graces you with the ability to make your own back story but.

“Within reason, I've been writing something in case you ever want to play while we're trapped in the planes.”

A rogue.

You look down at yourself, standing in off white underwear and a t-shirt with bleach stains littering the hems.

Sunlight dapples over the paper where your character stares back at you, and your thumb traces the shape of a sun that rests over the chest.

Emotion bubbles up your throat and you shake your head to rid yourself of it.

Your tea is going cold.

“We cannot keep it out.” One says.

“The tide is sprawling.”

“It's imperceptible, they don't know.”

“Like the frog that slowly boils.” says another.

Drip.

A rouge, only dressed in cotton and oversized socks.

He's starting to wonder again if he's made this all up, if you're a character he's imagined. He'd have a little more control over you though if that was the case, right?

“Do you have to go fucking near it.”

You turn to look over your shoulder at him, eyes sparkling with mischief.

He doesn't know how you're so calm, it's a dream you keep on saying, but it all feels pretty fucking real to him.

His hands itch to pull you back, keep you away, but instead he chews his lip, arms crossed tightly as he watches you with a frown.

“It's fine, I'm just looking.”

Your socked feet toe the line between the back of your couch and the abyss which hums lowly.

It's a near perfect match for the sound that made him feel like he was going to puke up a lung, but it's low, far away and it's the only thing that has come from it in the weeks since.

He still refuses to get close to it though.

He had graduated from sitting on the floor by the light to sitting on the arm of his couch, it juts out at a 90 degree angle from the centre of your own, far enough away to feel acceptable.

Then you'd said he “looked like Gollum perched there.”

So out of spite, he refuses to even go near it again.

You'd apologised, tried to pull him back over, but he's nothing but dedicated to the bit, or stubborn whichever you want to call it.

“You said it could be another world-”

“Full of shit that will suck out your soul.”

His tempers flaring anxiety making his skin feel too tight as he watches you.

“You're not even a tiny bit curious?”

The feeling evaporates as you approach him, arms falling to his side as he rolls his eyes at the same argument you've had almost every time you've seen him since he showed you those books.

“I just don't want to be sucked into oblivion," he says, pressing his fingers to his chest and leaning toward you.

You raise your eyebrows, a smile escaping through pressed lips “What you're into is your own business. ”

He falters at your words.

“Th..That doesn't even make sense.” he tries, his usual quick comebacks are turning to ash and leaving his mind blank as his back straightens uncomfortably.

You just shrug still smiling, and he avoids your eyes, willing his brain to think of something other than… Shit.

He looks past you, eyes searching for something to stop you looking at him.

A coaster sits on the side and he picks it up, turns it over in his hands, and throws it into the void.

It's swallowed without a sound.

Your head whips around to follow it and he slumps.

“Hey! What the hell?”

He goes to speak, something snarky about being ‘curious’ but the wind’s knocked from him as it comes hurtling back, hitting him square in the chest and bouncing limply onto the floor.

His hand immediately grabs at the place it hit, eyes wide and heart thrumming too quick.

You snort loudly from beside him and his eyes dart to you.

“That's not funny.” He says, voice pinched a little as he still grips his shirt.

Muffled laughter slips between your fingers that are now clasped over your mouth and you shake your head.

His nostrils flare, temples already aching from the frown he's wearing, but the longer he looks at you, mirth crinkling the side of your eyes as you try not to laugh, the more he struggles to maintain it.

He sucks at his teeth, eyebrows raising.

“You finished?”

Your eyes flit to the dark and another bubble of laughter breaks free when you look back at him.

“Can you stop going near it, before something grabs you.”

“Boundaries made by man hold little ground,” says one pacing.

“Broken ones even less, the tides will spill.”

“Fix it.” spits another.

Drip.

The days are still long, office life mundane, but the weeks are starting to pass a little quicker.

Home's finally becoming the reprieve that you desperately need, but today the hours have felt longer than you thought possible.

You'd woken like this, a little numb for no reason, a little frayed and tender despite the 8 hours of dreamless sleep. You couldn't shake it, the feeling of ghosts hanging around your neck all day.

Now, the last strands of you are snapping, coming undone with every minute that you wait for the god damn elevator.

It never arrives, and you drag yourself up the stairs at a snail's pace, passing the metal gate that's ajar on the second floor, taunting you.

You don't get on it out of spite.

Your door looms back at you when you reach it, rough wood and mismatched frame, you swallow harshly.

You thought you would feel better when you got home.

But the door feels heavier than usual, muscles in your arm biting out in protest at the force needed to open it and you wince as you fall in the threshold.

A distant chime makes you pause as you slam it closed.

A warped, ringing.

He didn't.

It rings again

He did.

“You bought a bell.” You exhale the words more than you say them, they're meant to hold laughter, but your voice barely lilts.

“I am but a merciful roommate.” He rings it again. “Found it at a thrift store for a buck.”

The sound floats oddly down to you from the scar, gnarled protrusions singing, it makes your teeth sit on edge.

You try to smile to yourself, wordlessly pulling yourself over to the couch and collapsing back as the silence hangs, thick and suffocating.

“Thought you'd be more into it, unless you're secretly into me scaring you” He laughs, but it's a little hollow and you cringe to yourself.

“No,” you say, squeezing your eyes closed, “thanks it's funny. Sorry.”

The silence drags out again, you know he's still there, the lack of heavy footsteps that follow him everywhere absent as you curl into yourself a little. You just want to be alone, want him to leave, want-.

“You okay?”

The question catches somewhere in your chest, like fabric caught in a zipper,makes your breath feel a little uneven.

Because you are okay, it's just.

“I'm fine, it's just, I'm. I'm probably going to hang out in my room tonight. I won't be much company“

“Oh, yeah, uh sure.”

You sit up, an outline of clothing and belongings left in your wake as you move to close out the world.

“You know,” he starts, voice curling down and around you “I'm like here, if you need to talk, or whatever.”

Your footsteps falter, head turning to look toward the crumbling plaster that stares back.

You hug yourself, willing the feeling away.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks Eddie.”

You crawl into bed, not bothering to fully change, just hoping that you will sleep and the tightness in your chest will be gone when you wake.

Sleep doesn't come though, hours passing with eyes closed, consciously drifting in white noise and darkness.

You're not sure what time it is when you hear it, the faint sound of music playing behind the wall, it makes you adjust from where your head’s been buried beneath blankets.

He's playing guitar.

Something soft and repetitive.

A knock sounds against the wall.

You don't knock back, but the weight around your neck lessons a little.

“It didn't work.” One whispers

“They can't be here, if we know.”

“They do too.” another finishes.

“I can hear them already, their laughter’s like mould.”

Drip.

“Do you write a lot of your own stuff?” Your voice is muffled a little from where your head rests awkwardly against the arm of the couch so you can watch him play.

He's moved the couch, a compromise born of an argument the last time you were here.

He didn't want to be anywhere near the abyss, you wanted to keep an eye on it despite it not doing, well anything lately really.

So the couch was moved, backed up towards the wall of light where you now lie watching Eddie, he’s lying on the threadbear carpet adjacent to where your door should be. Playing songs and telling you stories of teenage boys making noise in a garage somewhere in nowhere Indiana.

“Yeah, but I mean we still play the classics, you know, gets the crowd going when there's something they all know.”

He looks relaxed for possibly the first time, that you've seen. Speaking to you with his head tilted, eyes soft and stories of his life tumbling out as you listen.

His fingers lazily pluck a tune as he pries his eyes from you and stares at the ceiling, a low hum falling from his chest as he plays you a song you don't know.

It's almost peaceful, and you take in the halo of hair around him, black tee riding up so alabaster skin shows the start of a tattoo you can't make out, fingers moving, practised motions over the strings.

You blink away the stare, shifting awkwardly and swallowing as your eyes flit up to his which are now closed.

“So do you think you will get together sometime soon?” You say around your tongue which suddenly feels too big for your mouth.

“Last time I saw Grant he said Ruby’s sleeping now, so hopefully we can get in some practice, but it's whatever.” he sighs, fingers pausing their movements. “Everyone's busy, it's fine.”

“It's nice they're so close though.”

He gives you a thoughtful look. It's only for a moment but you see it.

You'd taken him up on his offer to talk, hand forced slightly after your ex had changed his number and managed to call you one night while Eddie was narrating a game show you'd never heard of.

Then it all came out, he'd been quiet, let you talk until you ran out of breath. Then he'd been, sweet, funny and then a little angry. You'd made him promise to just forget about it and he hadn't brought it up since.

But now, every time he speaks about his friends you can see him remember, his face changing, a pause in his words that tells you he's gone somewhere else in his head.

“Eddie.” you warn pulling him back.

A wet rhythmic sound comes from the abyss cutting you off from scolding him.

It gurgles, pops and slithers from different points and Eddie crawls quickly up onto the couch beside you.

Then it's gone, as fast as it came.

The drip sounds louder than before in the silence that's left behind.

You look over the impersonation of your shared living space for anything that may be lurking and realise, his hands holding your forearm, side pressed against yours, like he's ready to drag you away.

You look from where it rests to his face which is still trained on the darkness.

At least you have him.

Kind of.

“They will see it soon, surely.” One says.

“They must.”

“They ignore it.” says another.

“They blind each other.”

Drip.

“Thought he was just sending a mic, shit.” he mumbles, box heavy in his arms as he takes the stairs two at a time.

He feels giddy like a kid on Christmas, it has been a long ass 6 weeks.

The fact you had been paid and ordered your mic, only for it to be delivered the next day made him antsy, checking the mail every day only to be left disappointed.

He's tired of talking into empty space, your voice dipping in and out while he sits uncomfortably in the spots where he can hear you the best.

He wants it to feel, real.

It's too early for you to be home, but he wants to be ready and he barges into the apartment heading straight for the kitchen.

The drawer rattles loudly as he throws it open, and he lets it hang on its runners as he rams a pair of scissors into the layers of tape at the box's seam.

Thick black words tear in half on the address label.

“Sir Eddie Munson”

A letter rests on top and he disgards it, diving into bubble wrap and more layers of tape, shredding the wrapping until he reveals cables, metal boxes and a short boxy mic with a stand.

He stares at it all, displayed out between the ripped apart wrapping and scratches at his jaw.

He's not sure it will work, but if he could pick up your music when the stereo’s were close and you could pick up his then he doesn't see why you couldn't use it sort of like an amp. Speak through it to each other.

Obviously he couldn't tell Henderson that.

“I don't know why you need all this.”

He rolls his eyes, Dustin's voice ringing out inside his head as he reads the letter.

“It's going to sound like shit. Plus you already have a mic and an amp. ”

Had, he thinks bitterly and swallows the irritation that follows the memory of selling them .

He skims over the rambling, half a page of it before the kid finally tells him how to set it up.

He can't just plug it in; he knows that there's no output but it's still pretty simple compared to the convoluted explanations that Dustin’s written, diagrams and all.

He tests it, his voice coming quietly through the speaker as the green light on the screen sits dimly displaying ‘unknown input.’

The sound of your door opening and slamming against the wall makes him jump, a bolt of excitement coming with it.

He falls over his feet through the living room, whipping around before he spots it.

The bell rings out shrill and loud and your laughter fills the space with it.

“You know the bell's kind of redundant if I can hear you running around trying to find it.”

He grins at your snark, “I guess you don't want to know what came in the mail for me today then.”

“It came?!”

Your excitement sends another thrill through him and he grins as you tell him to wait, your belongings clattering as you drop them and you run to get your own stuff.

“Okay. So we set it up where it was the first time?” You say voice coming back to him.

Last time, it seems like so long ago. Before you'd even strolled into his mind in mismatched pyjamas, when he thought he might be dead, for a minute.

“Ready?”

He flicks it back on, the small screen turning pale green again, and his eyes widen as it brightens, numbers rolling across it in quick succession, the silence crackles.

“Testing.”

Your voice comes out through the speaker strong and close and it almost knocks the wind from him as a grin splits his face.

“Did it work?”

“Shit. Hi.” he says, the grin he’s wearing is already aching.

“It works!” The excitement in your voice is palpable, a slight echo ringing out at the volume of it as it leaks through the air.

“Do you think it's just against this wall? Move over to the other side.”

Before he can say anything the line cuts out, screen returning to normal and his stomach drops.

“Are you coming?” your voice calls out from a little further away.

He laughs to himself, feigning irritation “Gimme a second this thing weighs like 30lbs.” He unplugs the behemoth and piles the wires on top, then stares into the empty space.

“Where are you?”

“Kitchen.”

Excitement runs through him, clumsy fingers and hands arranging things quickly in a rush to hear you again.

The switch clicks on and he leans in ready to speak when screeching static roars out, the numbers flying by on the screen in a blur, its increasing in volume like the sound is crawling down the wires.

He yanks the cord out.

“Okay, not there.” You say, nervous laughter evident in the air around him.

His pounding heart slows as he braces a hand on the sideboard.

“Let's try the bedrooms.” Your voice is hesitant as it drifts away and he looks over the wall before turning around as if he'll see you there waiting, he unplugs everything and walks away.

The bedroom works, he should probably say something about what just happened, but you haven't mentioned it either.

Ignoring it is easy when he's here, the worry soon drowned out by laughter and a soft mattress beneath him.

It's comfortable, simple and he doesn't want to leave.

He's ignoring the time.

But you're not.

“Don't you have work?”

He groans, “Yeah.” he looks at the spot beside him where the stereo leans awkwardly against the pillows.

You should be sitting there.

“Think of the money. Work that Munson charm you always tell me about.”

“Tell you about?” he says, pursing his lips and tipping his head back softly against the wall.

“Mhmmm.” There's a tease there in the sound that makes his inside flicker.

“So, you want me to leave?” he says, pitching his voice a little low and equally teasing, a pause follows making him squint, maybe he's read this completely wrong.

“I didn't say that.” Your voice is soft, a little quieter, he expected laughter or an over the top tease.

It catches him off guard, and he nods to himself as a smile creeps onto his face, it drops as he glances over to the clock, he's going to be late.

He takes one last look over your adjoining wall.

“Sweet dreams sweetheart”

“The threads are fraying.” one says, pacing. 

“Like spider webs.”

“They're caught, wrapped up.” whispers another. 

“Like flies.”

Drip.

Light pours through the dark windows throwing light over him, but he casts no shadow. 

“She got it on her like, second go. I swear, that kid's going to be playing the garden before she's out of highschool”

His feet knock against the cabinets below him, the noise ricocheting around the narrow kitchen as you listen to him ramble from your place leaning against the wall across from him. 

A story about his last lesson of the day has bled into tangents, multitudes of stories pouring from him about teaching Lizzy.

It's cute, and you've listened in rapt attention as he gushes about her, but the longer he talks the more you have to hold up your smile. 

“You care about her a lot,” you say, nails dragging bluntly over a bump on your upper arm, not quite meeting his eye “her mom sounds cool too.”

“Oh fuck yeah, she's the best.” He says leaning forward from where he's sat on the counter. 

“Honestly Lizzy wouldn't play half as good if her mom hadn't started her off, I'm just, refining.”He gives you jazz hands and you manage a small smile. 

You can imagine them all, raucous laughter, easy interactions. Warmth and hot drinks, maybe a couple of beers at the holidays. 

It's making you feel sick. 

And it's stupid. 

You know it is. 

So you swallow it. 

But he's perceptive, irritatingly so and his head tips to the side, as big brown eyes try to catch yours.

You can't let him, he'll see. 

That you're jealous, in the most mundane way. 

Jealous of the people who get to walk down the street with him, go grocery shopping with him, cook with him, watch the skies change over the course of a day with him.

So your feet carry you away, to the end of the room. “Maybe Corroded Coffin and her can go on tour some day.”

You hear his feet hit the floor behind you, plaster and dirt being knocked aside as you draw marks in the dust on the counter,  back facing him. You can feel him looking at you and you peek over your shoulder at him. 

“What?” Your voice is small and you cough to cover it. Smiling in a faux confusion that you're hoping will make him leave it alone, but he only mimics your expression. 

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You're being weird.”

“No I'm not.” You clench your teeth at how defensive your tone is, turning to face him fully and leaning back.

“Yeah, you are. We were talking then you just.” he waves a hand over your face. Eyes lingering on yours and pinning you to the counter 

“What?”

Please leave it be, you plead into your mind and it's like he heard it, saw it maybe, because his eyes flit away.

He flicks up the lid of a pizza box, making a small sound of approval before pulling out a slice. 

“Don't eat that.'' You say nose wrinkled and he pauses, slice mid way to his mouth. 

“It's still good, I had it for dinner.”

“That's not the issue.” Your laugh is small but it's there and the tension in your chest lifts a little at the change of subject. “It's pizza from here.” 

He shrugs, going to take a bite and you pull at his arm. 

“You can't be hungry, we're sleeping.”

“It's fine.” he pulls away his arm and you grimace at him as he takes a bite, his face thoughtful and over exaggerated as he chews. 

“You're going to be sick.” You say as you watch him.

It's a sly grin he gives you after he swallows, and he leans in so his face inches closer to yours. 

He pulls off another bite, chewing around a smile.

“You're gross.” You can't help the genuine smile in your voice and he grins in return. 

Behind the wall away from prying eyes, the darkness twitches at its edges, the scar sparking in time.

“Enough.” says One. 

“They will not listen.”

“They cannot, they do not understand.”

“Make them.” Says another standing.

Drip.

Speaking through the stereo has become the new norm over shouting at each other through the ether.

It's odd that a little clarity in his voice feels like such a monumental change, but the ease of just picking up the mic and knowing you'll be able to sit and speak without straining to hear him makes it so much easier to fall into conversation.

Words that were usually kept for morning letters or when you met in your sleep are said over dinner, he reads books aloud to you when there's nothing good on TV, it's comfortable, easy.

There's always been a disconnect, a barrier of the surreal that meant it was easy to switch off, but now.

It's domestic.

You hear him pad over, back from a shower that was needed, “to wash the last house offa him”.

The mic crackles to life across from you “So.”

“So?” You say leaning into it, eyes still trained on your TV as you look for something to watch.

“You got any plans for, sleeping?”

“Any plans for sleeping?” you tease.

“Yeah you know, I'm just pretty tired so I might not be up for reading and, I mean I'll probably head to bed round… 10. So if you want to, carry on.. ”

“I'm pretty tired,” you say, failing to fight off a smile.

“Yeah? Cool, okay. So, what you doing? ”

It's not like you hadn't arranged to meet up in the planes before, but lately the reasons to meet there were less about wanting to explore what lay there and more just wanting to, be there.

As you drift to sleep and then slowly wake to the sound of the drip it sends adrenaline through you, no longer just because of the nightmare-scape that waits outside your door.

He appears through the light as you walk around the edge of the puddle, still slowly growing outside your bedroom door.

Book in hand, thumb jammed between the pages where you left off and a grin on his face.

He looks warm.

Face flushed, hair a mess, sweats hanging off lanky limbs. Comfortable.

“Shall we continue?” He shakes the book in his hand and nods his head towards the couch.

A whisper, in the back of your head that appears from time to time tells you that you're going to regret this.

This isn't right.

What good could come of this?

You smother it.

It's an awkward dance that proceeds you both taking opposing sides of the couch, both deciding to have your feet up, knees curled against the back pillows.

Then he starts.

The couch cushion’s soft beneath your head as you listen, his rings glinting in the light where he holds the book against his knees.

He forgot to take them off again.

Every character has a different voice, memorised words flowing easily from him and you can tell when he finds himself funny, his eyes lifting to yours to see if his inflection has you grinning.

He was made to tell stories.

You're not sure when it started or who started it.

The slow conscious rearrangement of your legs that's closing the gap between you, but both of your feet are edging, painfully slow towards the centre of the couch.

It's not like you've never touched the guy and you're a goddamn adult but, fuck if this doesn't have you feeling like you're back in high-school, all nervous intention covered up in a nonchalant guise

Striped socked toes stretch and adjust towards you and you pretend not to see.

You wait a few minutes, nerves twitching at the muscles in your legs, you nudge yours a little closer and catch his eyes flitting from the book to your feet, he doesn't miss a word, but adjusts himself so that his foot's now parallel to yours.

You press your foot down into the couch cushion and it moves forward a fraction, a fraction more than you thought it would and your foot’s brushing up the side of his.

His voice falters, and you bite your cheek to stifle the smile that's threatening to break out.

He reads on, his toe coming up to rub gently against your ankle, and you're drowning in petulant butterflies which want to crawl out your throat, you lean into it returning the gesture.

Risking a look up, you watch as he talks through a smile.

Something from the corner of your eye flashes in the dark, but when you turn there's nothing there.

…

…

…

There's a sound.

Is it the sea?

It dips in and out.

Waves.

You can't see, your body erased by dense black.

Your feet carry you forward nonetheless.

There's one light, a thin line which stretches over your head to infinity, both in front of you and behind.

“Hello?”

Your voice ricochets back at you from all angles, varying volumes and delays making you flinch and turn in place.

You keep walking, footsteps making no sound.

Dread builds the further you go, the overwhelming sense of everything being wrong.

It's suffocating.

You try to stray from the path you've been walking, but your feet won't move any faster and the line above you never moves from your line of sight, always stretching out to show you a path to nothing, no matter which way you turn.

Then it starts to shake.

Like somebody's pulling the ends taught, causing it to vibrate. The sound of a storm surrounds you, and you watch in unfounded horror as the light breaks, fraying and falling apart, pieces caught and swept away by gusts that you can't feel.

Then it's gone.

Everything.

No sound.

No light.

No up or down, you're not even sure you can feel your feet on the ground anymore.

You're adrift in nothing.

Panic rises to almost the point of hysteria. You can't even move.

“You're not meant to be here.” Comes a voice spoken against the crown of your head.

The scream that rips out your throat rattles your chest as you thrash in the dark.

Frantic knocking comes from behind you but your blood’s still pounding in your ears.

Kicking away your blankets, you back-up until you meet cold wall and the radio beside your bed crackles to life.

The worlds coming into focus too quickly, pixelated shadows dancing in the dark.

Eddie's calling your name almost as frantic as you.

“Sweetheart, I'm fucking begging you here!”

His voice makes its way to you finally, a sob wracking you as you try to breathe, turning on the light, trembling hands pull his voice towards you as far as wire will permit.

You push your head into your knee cradling the microphone to your chest.

“A dream.” you choke out.

“It was just a dream.”

Drip

Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list 🖤

@munsonburn3r @winchester-angel @kellsck @valhallavalkyrie9 @em0220

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @nachtficlibrary @strangersmunsons @vampirestookourblogs

[oneforthemunny]

janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader timeline

original blurb - what started as ramblings on my first blog (funsonmunson) turned into this lol. after watching abbott elementary, i was inspired. how they met, the cutesy beginning and lore.

apple blurb - also from funsonmunson and was a very early blurb. just kinda shows how they were cutesy and flirty and the beginning of their relationship. super fluffy blurb.

falling- a work from my spooky stories writing challenge i did for halloween. centered around their early relationship. a fluffy little date.

love me tender - a fluffy/smutty and sweet work about their first time together.

cotton candy blurb- from vivi's blurb game. short and sweet, shows their sweet dynamic.

embarrassment smut blurb - a smutty blurb at the beginning of their relationship from vivi's blurb game.

thirty four-thirty five - a smutty work that's after the relationship is established but still new. when they start trying new things, getting more comfortable and exploring sexually.

some sunny day - the most heartbreaking fic i've ever wrote to date. very angsty, hurt/comfort. a milestone in their relationship, where eddie talks about his mother's passing and grieving.

carry out - a smutty work that takes place when their relationship is established, they're serious, living together or about to.

pearls blurb - a wedding day short blurb from vivi's blurb game. follows the wedding gift eddie gives reader before she walks down the aisle. very fluffy and sweet.

ok the following is about oliver or ollie. i haven't written an official work or blurb about his backstory bc it makes me want to sob, but he was one of reader's students. came from a very neglectful family, her and eddie would take care of him after a while. he gets into the foster care system, and they foster to adopt him.

you get pregnant shortly after adopting oliver, and that is how olivia comes into your lives.

new tricks, new treats - is the first oliver story in the timeline. takes place after he is in your care, about to be adopted but still fostering. from a the spooky stories writing challenge. it's his first halloween under your care. very fluffy.

santa claus is comin' to town - also about oliver's first christmas in your care. talks about his parent's past neglect, about eddie's as well, but is ultimately very fluffy and sweet. from munny's merriest my xmas writing game.

ultrasound blurb - from vivi's blurb game. talks about baby olivia and finding her gender. very sweet and fluffy.

the best day with you today - follows eddie and oliver. both learning how to bond. shows eddie's own struggles and insecurities being a dad, but is the sweetest fluffiest piece. ft. baby olivia.

flowers blurb - a blurb from vivi's blurb game that follows eddie getting a promotion. you, oliver, and olivia surprise him with flowers to celebrate it. very fluffy and sweet. shows how grateful and in love eddie is with all of you, his little family <3