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take-everything-you-can · 1 year ago

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Thank you so so so much babes 😭 y'all got me all misty eyed and shit. Thank you for being you ! I'm gonna give y'all the hea out Eddie deserves in one universe or another!

Put Your Head On My Shoulder

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

A/N: This Fandom has given me the most inspiration I've had in years and this is a thank you to every single one of you. This idea spurred from one too many drinks and unhinged DMs and I'm so excited to share it with you guys. So here goes nothing lol. A special thanks to my lady loves @lesservillain , @ghost-proofbaby , @bettyfrommars , and @bimbobaggins69 for beta reading and letting me fill your inboxes with all my little thots for our little gremlin man !

P.S : BEFORE I GET INTO ANYTHING THIS STORY IS 18+ MINORS NEED TO GTFO PLEASE AND THANK YOU !!!!! Also please remember to like and reblog from your creators It keeps the fandom alive !!! ( honestly don't know what I would do without ya'll )

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader ( Pumpkin )

Summary: A 1950's daydream of malt shop kisses and doo wop singles far behind closed doors. Dreamboat Eddie Munson picks up more than just an extra route. A love that makes you weak in the knees... but how long can you go on loving a man that isn't the one your married to.

TW: Angst- mentions of an affair (adultery), verbal abuse mentions, mentions of weight ( mentions of food within the story throughout), feeling unloved, self deprecation slightly, staying with toxic partner Fluff- pet names, domestic bliss, mutual pining Smut- fingering, soft touches, overstimulation slightly very slight, unprotected PIV, cream pie, spanking,..... tbh i can't think of anymore but if you see any please let me know ... Thank you all so much. ( every chapter will get updated tw)

WC: 4.1K

Flour covers the countertop in your kitchen, and a rolling pin is set to the side while you knead the soft pastry ingredients together. Apples sit freshly peeled in a separate dish. Sliced and added to sugar and cinnamon. Picking up the rolling pin, you do your best to flatten the dough to a thin sheet and mold it to the glass dish before you.

“Well, this dough is much better than the first,” you say aloud to yourself. Your husband once told you that speaking out loud to yourself was a sign of a weak mind, you never put much stock in that. But here you were doing exactly that as your days consist of waiting for your husband to return home from work.

You splash a bit of vanilla into the apple mixture to complete your pie filling. Once it is all tucked neatly beneath the fluffy dough, you take a knife and leave four little holes within the surface and crimp the edges together, sealing the flavors within. A touch of sugar is added to the top along with an egg wash before placing the pie on a rack in the oven. A timer is set for twenty minutes, a reminder to lower the temperature and to add your special ingredient.

Soft music plays throughout the house, Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald keep you company on these long lonely days. Lonely but only for such a short time. Your husband works for the state doing something he thinks you're too dumb to understand so why talk about it? If anyone ever asks you simply say ‘Oh please you think a woman wants to know such things’. That usually earns you a laugh at cocktail parties and a warm smile from your man. If you could even call him that.

Yes, he is your man in the sense that your last names are the same and you share the same bed. Where is the love though? It isn’t tangible and hasn’t been for quite some time now. Your day begins and ends with a few words apart from an I love you. You served him still, acted to the prying eyes, as a doting Wife. Four years and Everyone still thought you had a perfect life.

That dream of white picket fences and shared milkshakes. That love of never-ending kisses and satisfying sex. Everyone around you wanted all that you had. Would they still want your life if they could see past those closed doors and shut curtains?

Would they want to spend their mornings hiding the bags under their eyes from nights of restless sleep? Would they want to have a constant monologue of the flaws seen in the mirror? Ones that your oh-so-loving husband pointed out to you time and time again. Would they want to cook and clean knowing they would never receive a thank you? No, you knew they wouldn’t. All the small things that build and grow until it becomes a monotonous routine. Walking through days as if the next would be the exact same and then doing it all again and again, Until one day something changed.

Two months prior A knock on the door, one that started to come once a week. The company of CC & Drums Dairy was paid to bring you a gallon of milk, A necessity your husband called it. A man with long dark locks that flowed over his shoulder and curls that dipped across his forehead under his cap. Deep Brown eyes that sparkled with flecks of amber as the sun hit him just right. Dressed in white overalls to comply with his company uniform and sleek black shoes that shine just as brightly as his smile. His name tag reads Eddie in a sweet embroidered cursive. Eddie, a name that would soon become something you would never forget.

Your timer goes off as you check the pie, squeezing a lemon over the crust for that citrus tang. Slipping the dessert back into the oven, for another half hour or so, a knock sounds through the house, sending the butterflies in your stomach in a tizzy. Eddie had arrived.

A quick task of undoing the strings to your apron and a fast fix of hair in the mirror you had hung in the hall. A hand to your abdomen as you intake a breath and let it stagger out between your lips, hesitating to open the door. The second you see him you can feel the way the tops of your cheeks heat and plump with a smile. One that matches his.

You take a second and wonder if he knows how handsome he is. The way the small lines beside his eyes crinkle with years of use. You wonder if he knows that the instant you see him, your heart stops beating. But most of all you wonder if you're the only one those soft eyes and long lashes catch in his gaze.

“Afternoon darling, I must say this heat wave has got to be breaking records. Ought not keep these out here too long.” as he lifts the small crate of glass bottles holding the product out.

You knew better than to take it from him, even if every bone in your body screamed too. The last time you tried you nearly flipped the whole crate, underestimating the weight. From that day on you always stood to the side as you let Eddie into your home to set the dairy in your kitchen. It was another thing you wondered about him. Did he do this for everyone else too?

“ Well let's not keep them then sir.” standing to the side he slides past you brushing a hand across the elbow you held to the door. His way of saying hello. Small touches here and there as he could never keep his hands to himself for too long in your presence.

“ Something smells awful delicious in her ma’am.”

“An Apple pie is in the oven, maybe you’ll stay and have a slice. For your troubles of course.”

“Mhmm, my troubles.” Eddie sat the crate on the counter next to the ice box and turned his body towards you and enveloped you in his stronghold. An intoxicating embrace as he pulled you flush to his body.

“ I missed you, you know that pretty girl?” soft tone, almost a whisper. A small smile he couldn't see but could feel made its way to your face.

“I bet you say that to all the girls on your route.” he lets out a small chuckle.

“Only the breathtaking ones.” a falter to your features as your mind reeled with all the possibilities.

Does he miss Mrs.Cunningham the way he misses you? Does he miss Ms.Buckley the same? That sick green monster finds its way under your skin as you think of all the girls he must have at his beck and call. But today that monster wasn’t going to ruin the few fleeting moments you could spend with him. You needed Eddie in the most carnal of ways.

“Do you want to know what I missed? “ Your fingers trail their way from the small of his back and up over his shoulder, landing on his neck just below his ear. Cupping his face you bring it down and catch his lips as they meet yours.

“Oh yeah? you missed me too Pumpkin?” a second crash of your lips to his, makes him hum from the back of his throat. His nose nudges yours to the left so his teeth can catch your bottom lip, pulling back slightly to hear the small whine you emit.

“I always miss you, Eddie.” His hands travel down over your figure as he starts to ruffle the hem of your dress up. Thankful for its length to hide how wet you had become just from him being in the home you share with your spouse. A topic you and Eddie tried to steer clear of, but the wrongness of the act just felt so right.

Over a year your husband hadn’t touched you, barely talked to you and some day you were even sure he hadn't even looked in your direction. Eddie though, In the last two months, Eddie had made you feel seen. He made you feel heard, and most of all he made you feel desired.

As his hand finds the thin cotton that covers your cunt he glides his digits over the wet patch that had grown by just the thought of him. A deep hum and a small huff of breath from Eddie against your neck as he kissed his way to your shoulder.

“So wet for me and I've barely even touched you. Are you that starved for affection?” The words forming in that sweet small surrender to him were all but cut off as he slid a finger through your folds and teased your entrance. A gasp was the response he got, one he loved to hear in protest every time he had you.

“C’mon honey tell me what you want.” how could you respond to him with words if you couldn't even think of them? The man before you had spent the last few months discovering just how to make you melt in his arms.

He knew that the spot behind your knee was his best friend for when he had you on your back. He knew the way your hips stutter when you're close to your peak, and he knew that if your eyes found that they couldn't stay open that you were in utter bliss.

His favorite thing he had learned throughout your time together though was that even when he knew you had your doubts, you still trusted him in every sense of the word.

After only two months Eddie knew you better than you know yourself. Better than your husband had ever cared to know you.

“ Please, Eddie.” He smiled down at you

“ Please What Honey?”

“ Dip in Eddie, Fuck me please.” He could feel the slackening of your legs as his assault on your clit had made you a bit sensitive in his focus on making you feel good. As he possibly could in what little time he had with you. He slid two of his thick fingers into your dripping heat as his thumb stayed in a rhythm that matched his wrist as he curled in and let the sounds of his efforts echo off the small kitchen walls.

Moaning into Eddie's ear as his finger worked in and out of you making that heat inside of you grow higher and higher. Clutching the strap of his overalls, a small pull leaning back, as the pleasure he was giving you kept climbing.

“ Come on now baby let go.” A final intake of air, hold on to the breath that led you to your walls squeezing eddies fingers tight. That coil snapped as you let your body fall slack against him a loud moan from the farthest depths within you found its way out of your lungs.

When your eyes land on Eddie after your come down all you can see is that smile. The dimple-creasing smile that kept haunting your dreams at night.

“I need more.” You didn’t know how but his smile grew even wider and more sinister as his tone began to deepen. A kiss is pressed to your lips, not urgent, understanding.

“ You need more? Well, it's a damn good thing that what you're asking for is in stock then Pumpkin.” He turned you around to face the small table that sat in your kitchen, knowing what he wanted from you. He wasn’t the only one taking notes from your time together.

You braced yourself against the worn wood and clutched the sides of it as you heard the familiar clinks of metal as his rings fumbled with the buckle of his belt.

The wait, though it is small, is brutal. Anticipation makes your stomach flip and cunt flutter. A shuffle out of his overalls gives Eddie a moment to just admire the way you listen so well. These small moments have him thanking every bad decision that got him here. To this small town, with this small job, on this small route. A route he picked up as a last resort. Yeah, he doesn't know who he's praying to but whoever is listening, he's singing grace.

A grip in the slight pudge of your hips to keep himself steady, Eddie is gentle as he slips his cock through your folds gathering your slick over his length and breaching your desire. A deep moan and a few choice words fall from Eddie as he fills you and meets the small wavering gasp you let out, a breath you didn't know you had been holding. A whine of impatience, his sign to move.

A soft speed turns ravenous as his dick uses your walls to curve his hooks into you deeper and deeper. A sigh of his name and you can feel the stutter in his thrust. He slows his pace if only to keep himself from having to leave your presence all too soon.

"Fuck darling, so good to me, taking me so well like this pussy was made for me." You mewl from beneath him, dropping your forehead to the wood that is holding you up. You fear that if it had not been here your legs would have given up the second he started talking. "Isn't that right pumpkin? Made just for me? " A sharp thrust and you know he wants an answer in the way his grip turns bruising. A trip through your mind as you try and collect the words from thin air.

"YES! God yes, I was made just for you."

"Such a good girl for me baby. That's right, isn't it? You're all mine aren't you?" Another squeeze to your hip and a smack that lands hard on your ass. Eddie's palm kneads the sting as you answer him.

" All yours, all yours, no one else, just you baby." A grunt hum from the back of his throat as he grips your shoulder and leans so his body is flush with yours. His breath is on your neck as he leans to your ear.

"Not even your husband, just you and me baby?"

"Just you and me Ed's" Your eyes tunnel and you see white as your orgasm rushes through you, Eddie's own a thrust away as he moans deep against your skin. His body weight and yours against the kitchen table as you both find your way down from the clouds.

Small kisses he leaves to your spine and the back of your neck. You turn your head and he places another small one to the upturned corner of your mouth. A bell chimes and you sit for a few seconds letting Eddie gather his own bearings. A small pat to the curve of your pussy as Eddie pulls the cotton back in place. A shock to your sensitivity.

"Keep that in there baby, that way you have a part of me while I'm gone." A heat to your cheeks as the thought of Eddie's cum dripping out of you while your husband sat across from you and read the paper over dinner. A sly smirk from the man you just let defile the small space, one you would let do ungodly things to you.

You put on oven mitts as Eddie finds a few glasses in the cabinet. You slice into the flakey crust and slip through the filling as you place the large piece on a plate for you to share. Eddie pours milk as you find some silverware, he places the bottles in your fridge so they keep.

Turning with a smile, he is the definition of adoration. In your eyes he is everything.

Why is it that when his time with you is coming to an end you almost wish it would end as soon as possible? Almost as if you would wish he would part with some harsh words to make you not want him in the most beautiful ways. You have to make yourself believe these things before he leaves because if you don’t, it would just shatter you. So you take a different route, you don’t shatter yourself, instead, you splinter and crack all the things that hold you until you see him again. The times where he glues those little shards back in place if only for you to break them off again and again. A scared thought and a small shake of your head trying to rid yourself of it. A married woman. What would he possibly want from you other than a good lay?

He sees that doubt within your mind as if reading it. He takes your hand in his as he laces your fingers together.

“ Penny for your thoughts Pumpkin?” You glance finally meeting his eyes as you clear your throat.

“ Nothing important hun.” You slide a fork to his side of the table as your eyes dart to the clock. He squeezes your hand once more, lowering his eyes in search of yours again.

“It is important if it bothers you.” Your heart stops. The breath you were going to take gets caught in your throat and you turn on that winning smile you had trained yourself to hold in uncomfortable circumstances. One you wish he couldn't see through.

“ It’s nothing Eds, really.”

“Do you promise?” you take a hand and cup his cheek.

How do you tell him that he is your first thought in the morning and the last thought before falling asleep? How instead of counting sheep you try and count the freckles on his face by sheer memory? How could you tell him you wish you were his one and only? That you have never felt about another human soul the way you feel about his. Instead, you stuff it down, apple pie soon to follow.

“I Promise.”

You know he doesn’t believe you but he would rather set out to sea and die of starvation as the sharks feed from him than to make the last moments he has with you tainted with fights and tears. God when you cry it absolutely destroys him.

The first time you had ever let him take you in his arms you had just gotten off the phone with your husband. He had heard hushed words while he waited for you to grab the weekly tip your husband left for him. Your husband had informed you that he would not be coming home, as the fight from the night before had lingered into the morning and would now follow you well into the night. The first time you had opened the door Eddie studied the angelic features of your face, and they had plagued his dreams for such a long time at this point.

When you rounded the corner with a smudge of mascara beneath your eyes, he instantly without thinking took you in, pushing your face to his chest as his hand rested on the back of your head. Slight comfort made the tears begin again as he wiped the remainder of the smudge and irritation from your face. No man had ever done something as small as comforting you before. In the two months since he had started this route, he knew he had instantly fallen head over heels in love with you.

You had taken two bites from the plate that sat in front of you and Eddie had finished the slice. He even went as far as to slide a finger in the crumbs on the plate and lick them off in an attempt to show you how much he had enjoyed it. His time with you.

A gathering of glasses you brought to the sink as he brought the other dishes and sat them in the deep well while wrapping his arms around your waist and you stood eyes closed relishing in the last little bit of affection he could offer to you.

A kiss to your shoulder as you turn your head resting it on his.

“I’ll be by in a week Pumpkin.” A nod to the fact you already knew. “ Seven days.” Another nod, not risking the crumble in your voice. “ Not long at all.” Another small kiss to your cheek as you turned into his chest and rested your forehead on his.

“Seven days?”

“ Seven days Pumpkin. Do you think you can wait for me? Just seven days? “

“I think I could wait a lifetime for you Eddie.”

“I’ll see you in a week, Mrs.Carver.”

“ A week Mr.Munson.”

A kiss to your lips and a parting gift of his very own pie before he snuck out through the back door, so as to not raise suspicion. A slow walk from the kitchen to the door and to turn a lock, on your mind. On your hope. You could do this. You could wait seven days.

Your husband comes through the door late as he had been doing for the last year or so. You had expected it from him at this point. You had started to make his dinner later and later knowing that if you had made it too early he would tell you all the ways he couldn't eat it. If it had gone too cold he would refuse and the hard work would go directly into the trash.

He walked in as you took his dinner off the stove and placed it on a dish for him.

“Right on time doll.”

“ I don’t know how on time it is, It’s Nearly eight in the evening, Jason!”

“ I’m not doing this with you tonight.”

He always did this. He would come home and you would ask him where he had been, and he’d always end the conversation before it could even begin. You sat his plate in front of him as you sat across the table from him. Times where you could really take him in and see that the feelings you had once long ago were snuffed out like a flame to a candle.

“ Are you not eating dear?”

“ I ate a bit earlier in the day.”

“Thanks for waiting .” He rolled his eyes and you returned the gesture.

“ I wouldn’t have had to wait if you had just picked up the phone and told me when you were going to be on your way home. I’m not waiting until we hit a new day to eat Jason I’m not going hungry just so you-”

“ Wouldn’t harm you any though would it.”

You left the table. Your weight had started to become a key focus as he knew it bothered you more than anything else. You had gained some weight and your mother and friends had commented on it from time to time. For your husband to tho, it made you furious. You ate when you were unhappy, it was something you had done since you were a child. The only person who thought you could stand to eat a little more had been Eddie.

It happened slowly, you would make him food now and then, and the majority of the time He would offer you a bit. It started with a bite and progressed into cutting his sandwiches in half just so you could have something to eat. Unlike your husband, Eddie had a suspicion that you weren’t eating enough. Like you weren’t giving your body what it needed to survive so he would constantly ask for you to eat with him. At least then he would know you had something of substance within your day.

You had gone to your bedroom and gotten out of your daily’s slowly separating them into their hampers waiting to hear the stomping footsteps of Jason as he made his way to the spare bedroom. He had taken residency there about a month before Eddie came into your life and you were thankful for the times that Eddie left you yearning for more. To call out another man's name while with your significant other no matter how insignificant they were would still bring you shame like no other.

Slipping into your nightgown as Jason shuts the door to his room you wait a few minutes to take the walk back down the stairs to stand in front of the sink. Looking up at the sky through the window above the stars seem to shine brightly. You attempt to find the little dipper and look for its companion not far from where it lays, the version of a larger size. Constellations begin to blur as you let the silent tears fall. Hoping that somewhere out there in this little old town, Eddie too is looking up at the moon and wishing you were by his side as you wished upon all the stars in the sky. What a long time seven days would be.

#betty my beloved #milkman!Eddie #yall really trying to make a bitch cry tonight and i love you #comment reblog

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take-everything-you-can · 1 year ago

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Babes this !!!!!! This 👆👆👆👆 is immaculate 👏👏👏

Ive never wanted to push two souls together more , just meant to be in every lifetime, in every life form , in every molecule of being !

Stop the World and Melt with You

Part 6: Meet Me in Hawkinsgate

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: A lot will be explained in this part, but there will also be more questions left to ponder. We get a glimpse of reader from the past, another Traveler shows up in Hawkinsgate, and secrets are revealed through a comic we borrow from Dustin. wc: 4.3k

Masterlist

A/N: I've been staring at this for way too long and I just need to post it🙃 This part is bitesize because I feel like there is a lot to take in. If it goes the way I've planned it, we'll have two more chapters after this, and you won't have to wait as long as you did for this one 🧡

18+ONLY, MDNI, this is a mindbender, fear of the unknown, mention of zombies, interdimensional travel, circus freak show, no smut in this chapter but I have a spicy blurb on its way to do with the version of Eddie and Reader introduced in this part.

“Cold-hearted orb that rules the night

removes the colors from our sight

Red is gray, and yellow---white

but we decide which is right

and which is an illusion.”

- Twilight Lament, The Moody Blues

---Somewhere Else---

The Crossroads is a place for various interdimensional Travelers to wait while on the way to their next location or assignment. A place to get their “passport stamps” and figure out which portal they’d need to take to get to where they needed to be. The atmosphere made it feel as if you were conducting business on one of Saturn’s rings; nothing but stars and infinite universe around you. There's a row of doors arranged in an arc, all of which seem to be floating in the air, all with numbers above them. You're waiting to take number 4.

The version of you from another dimension took a turn around, hoping to spot a place to drink at one of the vendors inside the floating establishment. This version of you has a few more visible tattoos scattered from head to foot: each a passport from a parallel universe or pocket of time you have traveled to. It was your job, like all of the other Muses, to bring back inspiration for the Storytellers. There's music playing over the speaker system as you waited; it was an instrumental version of Melt with You by Modern English. The song is interrupted by the tin of an electronic female voice announcing the departure at gate 9.

You’d been staring up at the monitors, checking the time for your portal, but you stepped back in haste, and there he was: the boy you would soon know as Eddie Munson.

You didn’t recognize him but also, you did---in a way you couldn’t explain. The sight of his face knocked over a tiny domino in your soul and the rest went tumbling.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he gave a crooked smile, putting his hands up, palms out. This version of him has strange tattoos as well; a few designs at his temples, lines above one brow, a series of numbers and letters on his throat. He wears a black leather jacket over a shirt that reads: Hellfire Club. “I should watch where I’m going.”

“No, no, it’s my fault,” you stammered. “I’m running late so I was worried---”

“Worried that you’d miss me?” He interjected.

The forwardness of it caught you off guard and you stifle a laugh, tucking your chin. “Something like that.”

You turn back to face the monitors, thinking he’d head off the way he was going—but he didn’t. He stayed close and waited as a group of human and non-human beings passed between the two of you.

“So,” he stepped up closer as the crowd passed, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Of all the Crossroads in all the universes, you walk into mine.”

You turned and gave him a curious look, not understanding what he just said or why he was saying it to you. Your eyes flicked from his tender chocolate orbs, down to his soft lips and back again.

He leaned back, noting your confusion, and tilted his head. “Humphrey Bogart? Casablanca? Of all the gin joints in all the---” he could tell it wasn’t ringing a bell. “Wait, you’ve never watched Casablanca?”

You gave a few tight shakes of your head, a scowl creasing the skin between your eyebrows.

“Oh, sweetheart, we need to fix that,” he patted around in all of his pockets. “Do you have a pen?”

You weren’t sure where this was going, but you were fascinated by him. Muses weren’t allowed to take any form of physical identification with them through the portals—-hence the inked passport stamps that were usually invisible to most non-travelers---and the only things you had on you were gum and lip gloss.

He checked the inside pocket of his jacket and made a sound of triumph. He procured a black, felt tip marker and popped the cap off. “Mind giving me your number? For educational purposes. We can watch Casablanca, and maybe get some decent food back on the mainland. What do you think? Could you stare at this mug while you eat?”

You were reaching for the pen as he talked, and he offered his palm to you. In a line from his pinky to his thumb, you wrote your name and phone number without another word, and then capped the pen and handed it back to him. Eddie watched you; the curves of your face, the way your eyelashes fluttered, the way the tip of your tongue rested on your top lip as you concentrated. He wanted to commit you to memory.

He turned his hand to look at what you wrote, and then met your eyes over his fingers. “Have we met before? You seem so familiar to me.”

He had chunky, silver rings on his fingers, and the air surrounding you felt electric, you could almost taste the tang of the static on your tongue.

“Oh, I think I’d remember you,” you smirked, trying to mask the depth of your attraction to him.

But then a loud chime sounded and the electronic female voice sounded over the platform, letting everyone know that the portal for Gate 4 was opening.

“That’s me,” you swallowed, flushed. “Maybe I’ll see you around,” you quipped, a sudden pain shooting through your chest at the thought of never seeing him again.

Eddie felt flustered, he didn’t want you to go. “Hey, I’ll call you,” he promised, showing his palm. You gave him one last look over your shoulder before disappearing into the crowd. When you stepped over the thresh hold to your portal, you realized you didn’t even know his name.

And you really hoped he could call.

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You became aware of your surroundings before you were fully awake enough to open your eyes, trying to hold on to the image of the boy in your dreams as hard as you could---but then he was gone. As intense and real as the “dream” had been, it was now a pin prick of light at the end of a long, dark tunnel, and you tried to squint but then it was gone as soon as your consciousness came to the surface.

It felt so real, though. So real that you tossed in bed with tears wet in your eyes, trying to get it back, screaming into your pillow. The pillowcase that smelled strongly of bleach and a hint of age old body odor embedded deep in the pillow itself.

The dark of night lasted for the next 24 hours in Hawkinsgate, as if it were a movie set and someone forgot to turn the lights on. It was noon, and you were sitting behind the motel reception desk, staring out into the street lights of the dark town. Claudia bustled in with one of her cats in a pink carrier after taking it to the vet. There was a young boy with her who offered you a gappy grin with missing front teeth. He had a trucker hat that sat squished on his head of curls.

You’d been doodling on the inside of the phone book, about to go and put a load of sheets in the dryer, when the boy with Claudia marched right up to you. He was a teenager, but you weren’t sure of the age.

His eyes blew wide. “Is it true you’re one of the Travelers?”

“Dustin,” Claudia called to him as she came around the desk, marching toward the back room.

Nailing you with an enigmatic grin, he pulled a rolled up comic out from under his arm and slapped it on the table. His hands working to smooth out the pages before he pointed to a face on the cover.

“Isn't that you?”

Your eyes hesitated on him before following to where his finger pointed.

The likeness caught you by surprised and made you step back, but you never took your eyes off of it. You held it up, attention flicking over the details in the artwork. It wasn’t you, exactly, but, indeed a version of you: legs wide, arms crossed, exposed skin dotted in tattoos, way more than the few you had now, standing in what appeared to be a desert wasteland with two moons in the sky.

“Where did you get this?” You asked, wondering if someone was playing a trick on you. “Did Eddie put you up to this?”

“Eddie?” Dustin’s generous smile widened, cocking his head. “How do you know Eddie?”

You only handed the comic back when Dustin reached for it. “I’d let you keep it,” he shrugged. “But it’s the newest issue and I haven’t read it yet.”

“No, it’s okay,” you shook your head. “I understand. Could you maybe, tell me what happens in it?”

You could tell that the kid was emotionally mature for his age and he quickly caught on to the source of your distress and took his tone down to more of a calm reassurance. “I’ll just leave it on the desk for you when I’m done, okay?”

A part of you wondered if reading such a thing was a good idea with the fragile state of your blank brain. Dustin came around the back, following after Claudia before she shouted his name again.

“Hey,” you turned to face him now that he was behind the front counter. “Who writes that comic? Do you know?”

“Oh, no one knows,” his face was serious, and then he turned to keep walking.

“Of course no one knows,” you said under your breath. “But, where do you buy them? There must be a way to trace it back to the creator?”

He adjusted the strap of his backpack. “I’m sure there’s a way,” he looked down, thoughtfully. “These issues just show up like everything else around here, but I can ask a few people.”

You told him how much you would appreciate that, and he repeated his disbelief that you also knew his friend Eddie.

---------

That day, another Traveler wandered into the motel; the first one since your arrival. You caught sight of the bright pink hair immediately, followed by the black ink markings from her nose to her throat, and on her hands as well. You scrambled to your feet, eager to make her acquaintance. She was hesitant, her eyes shifting to take everything in, just as you had that first day when you arrived.

The second she saw you, her eyes blew wide, and her mouth dropped open.

She knew your name. “What are you doing here?” She asked, spinning in a circle. “Where are we? Where is Lorelei?”

Your heart started racing and your mouth dried up. “Where do you know me from? How do you have your memories?” You were coming around the desk, racing towards her now. “Who is Lorelei?”

She had on a ripped, threadbare, white tee with no bra and worn jeans. She pulled a knife from the hilt at her hip and held it up. “You’re not safe here anymore,” she warned, eyes darting around as if she expected a monster to come flying out of the walls.

“Not safe from what?” You begged.

The confused look on your face turned to a horrified one when an invisible door slid open behind the pink-haired girl, exposing an infinite blackness, and she turned, jumping threw it as if she knew exactly where it led to.

“No, wait---” you screamed, stretching your arm out as if you could catch her, but then the invisible door slid shut again and there was nothing but air there. You waved your hands frantically around over the space.

--------

Eddie came to meet you on the roof of the motel that night, because you asked him to, because you needed a friend. The roof was angled, but not drastically, with a perfect sitting ledge. You each had pillows behind your heads, laying side by side, knees bent, staring up at the sky.

You were feeling more and more at home in Eddie’s presence; eager when you knew you would get to see him, and fearful when you had to part ways. Even so, you didn’t want to care for him, and tried to push away the feelings at all costs. You could sense him holding back as well; reaching out to take your hand, only to pull away, and swallowing words that hovered on parted lips, left unspoken.

You told Eddie about the pink-haired traveler and he chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully.

“She knew my name,” you mumbled, replaying the short interaction over in your head for the hundredth time that day.

“I’ve seen Travelers come and go that fast,” he said. “One second they’re in front of you, and then they’re gone the next---poof.” Eddie decided not to say out loud what scared him the most, and that was the fact that, once you remembered who you were, you would disappear in the same way. He wondered how quick he’d have to be to dive into the void to go with you. “Maybe she came to give you a message?”

You hadn’t shared with him her message yet, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to. But then you felt the side of Eddie’s hand slide up against yours and you realized you didn’t want to have any secrets from him.

You swallowed back a tickle of emotion in your throat. “She said I’m not safe here anymore.”

In a heartbeat, Eddie took your hand, intertwined his fingers, and pulled it to his side, tucking your arm close. “Hey, that’s not true. You’re safe here with me.”

It was the first time you’d ever held hands, and you could tell he’d been working up the nerve for days. You were grateful for the touch and it made the sides of your mouth dance up, even under the weight of such disturbing circumstances.

Elbows planted, you looked over at your two hands locked together and the dark blue sky full of scattered stars beyond. “I do feel safe with you,” you told him. Even though whatever was happening to you felt much bigger than either one of you could fathom in that moment, and it wasn’t fair to put such a big job on Eddie, you were comforted by the thought.

You scooted closer to him, and placed your head on his shoulder. Eddie brought the back of your hand to his lips and kissed it.

“Why do the stars and the sky look so real?” You asked in a whisper, watching the way the stars flickered, and clouds hovered around the moon.

Eddie turned his head to find your profile. “You still think this is a dream?”

It didn’t feel like a dream, but maybe we all traveled in our dreams to very real places and then forgot it all once we opened our eyes. You hesitated, not sure how to answer him, working your jaw. The air was wet and cool, bright with the smell of rain on concrete and forest pine.

“Sometimes I worry that I’m going to wake up any second and forget this place,” you failed to catch the tremor in your voice. “That I’ll forget you.”

An unexpected tear ran down your cheek, and Eddie felt the wet drop hit the side of his neck.

“Hey,” he said, squeezing your hand, pulling it across his stomach. “Can I tell you what I think?”

“Please?” You urged.

He wanted to tell you about the dream he had about a group of circus people that came through a place called Hawkins, Indiana to set up a show on the outskirts of town. In the dream, Hawkins was his hometown, the place where he had grown up, and it was similar to Hawkinsgate, but also nothing like it. The dream felt so real, he could still smell the popcorn and hear the cackle of the Bearded Lady on stage, beckoning to any passerby. The circus rolled into town on old caravans and rusted cars compiled of junkyard metal. There was a Ferris wheel and various freak shows and a fire-breather and a strong man and a fortune teller. Eddie went with his buddies Gareth, and Jeff, because they wanted to see the clowns on stilts, and maybe get a glimpse of the peep show.

They peeked inside a hole in the red and white tent when they heard the sultry music, just in time to catch sight of a voluptuous blonde woman spinning tassels on her huge breasts before they were shooed away by one of the barkers. He had a fully tattooed face and a metal bar pierced through his tongue.

“Yo, sorry man,” Eddie and the boys held their hands up in a form of surrender, unable to contain their laughter, and the barker spat on the ground at their feet, sneering to show his silver teeth.

Eddie went in to see the psychic in the purple caravan on a dare. The boys teased him and said he wouldn’t, and so Eddie said, “hold my jacket” and made his way inside, through the beaded curtain in the doorway, stopping in his tracks at the sight of the older woman sitting at a round table in front of a crystal ball.

“It’s you,” the older woman said, looking up at him only briefly. She had long gray hair, and her eyes were mismatched: one was bright blue and the other was milky white with no iris or pupil. “I was starting to think you’d never show up.”

“Do I know you?” Eddie looked around the space cautiously, making sure the two were alone. The air was smoky and smelled like the floral dank of incense.

“Please, Eddie, sit,” the woman said in a young voice that did not match her elderly exterior.

Eddie stepped back. “Wait, how do you know my---”

“There’s no time for that,” she interrupted him, shuffling a deck of tarot cards in her hands. Her eyes repeated the gesture of motioning for him to sit. “There’s a lot you need to know and we only have a few minutes.”

Stiffly, Eddie took a seat in the squeaky wooden chair across from her, hoping that the boys were right outside and not back at the peep show without him. She made a clean stack with the deck of cards and set it to one side.

“So,” Eddie’s eyes flicked around after a full minute of silence. “How do we do this?”

The next thing he knew, Eddie was headed outside again, squinting, his head blurry and his eyes dry.

Gareth and Jeff had been giggling over a joke when Eddie stepped out of the caravan and stumbled, his eyes glossy. They got serious immediately and went to help him stand as his knees buckled.

“Damn, what did she do to you?” Gareth frowned, watching Eddie take long blinks and shake his head as if trying to wake up. Jeff looked around nervously, wondering if he should find help. Gareth tried to see in through the beaded curtain, but it seemed like the old woman was gone and the caravan appeared empty.

When Eddie stepped out, he felt like everything was the same, but also very different. He was still in Hawkins, but there was something...off about it. The boys asked him over and over what the old woman told him, but he couldn’t remember, he just knew he felt woozy. His stomach growled and he figured it was because he was hungry.

The next morning, after the dream---the visions of you started. The dreams, the whispers, the way he knew every inch of your body, every mole, every tattoo, even though he’d never seen you naked before; not in this reality, anyway. He stepped over a torn front page of the Hawkinsgate Gazette in the grass in his dream, and he stopped to pick it up, wondering why the name Hawkingate looked so familiar, but also so wrong.

There on the roof of the motel, Eddie wanted to tell you that he’d been thinking and dreaming about you ever since.

After that, the other Travelers started showing up in Hawkinsgate. Just like you, they were plopped there without much of a memory of where they came from, and seeing them around became normal as well. The entire town seemed to be designed around them in fact, as if Hawkinsgate was an airport from which people took off to their various destinations.

Every time he heard about a new Traveler in town, he went looking, hoping to find you. He was about a week away from losing hope when you showed up at the gas station that day in tears.

The one he had been waiting for and pining over this whole time.

Eddie wanted to tell you all of that on the roof of the motel when you started to cry.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Eddie asked and you begged him to tell you something, anything that was remotely comforting.

He slid his fingers up and down between yours before intertwining them again. “I’m not sure why or how I know this, but no matter where you go, you’ll always have me. If this is a dream and you wake up, I’ll be waking up with you.”

---------

You finally got your hands on the comic book with your likeness on the cover and hurried back to your motel room on your lunch break so you could lock the door and dissect it in peace.

The woman who looked like you in the drawings was apparently a Muse who worked for a group of people called The Storytellers. You had a gift for collecting inspiration and experiences in other dimensions and worlds and passing them on. The amount of knowledge your character had acquired through her journey was vast. She knew how to speak several languages, she knew karate, knife throwing, chess. She knew how to cook French dishes you didn’t even know how to pronounce. There was another Muse in the comic named E who looked remarkably like your Eddie. Long hair pulled back, a loose strand hanging down his cheekbone.

In the comic, your character and E had traveled through many dimensions together, and you were on the run from a group of lizard people called The Kreel. They were reptilian in nature with a human appearance, but for their lizard eyes that flicked out of their human lenses every so often. They did not emote and they did not experience compassion, and they were waging a war with the Storytellers, so that the Kreel could control all creative consumption. The Kreels wanted all of the powers of the creators for their purposes alone; to create worlds that would benefit them only.

Your character and E had jumped from dimension to dimension, from world to world, gathering inspiration for the Storytellers, while simultaneously evading The Kreel.

The final page of the comic book left you with a cliffhanger: in modern day, in a quiet dessert town off the grid in New Mexico, The Kreel found the location where you were your character resided, and were closing in. You were supposed to meet E that night, when he was back from his recent trip, but there was no time to get a note to him. The next best thing you could do was go through the portal to Hawkinsgate and wait for him there.

Hawkinsgate was the safe haven; a place undetectable to Kreels. It was created by a group of Storytellers when the war began.

You typed the location of the portal into the gps on your phone.

The last show you’d watched was The Walking Dead, and so you imagined a hoard of zombies into existence to block the The Kreel from you in their masses, while you made your escape.

You watched the home you loved disappear in a cloud of dust in your rear view mirror, as a van full of lizard Kreel soldiers went to battle with the flesh eating zombies in their haste to get to you.

The character that looked like you in the comic book wailed and sobbed, driving away as fast as they could, fearing they’d never see E again.

You frowned at the page as you finished reading, your lungs starving for air after holding your breath for so long.

At the very end, your character reminded herself in thought bubbles that she’d lose her memory once she breached the Hawkinsgate portal. The Kreel could pinpoint brainwaves when a creative’s thoughts were particularly active, so everything had to be wiped clean for their safety. The girl in the story cried again, thinking about how she wouldn’t remember E, and how she hoped he’d show up there too, just like they had planned.

But, they wouldn’t know each other.

“Meet me in Hawkinsgate,” alone in your motel room you felt the warm breath against your ear, heard the words as clear as day. It was Eddie’s voice, and it sounded like he was right there next to you. “Meet me in Hawkinsgate….”

You jumped up off the bed and threw the magazine, making it land against the wall with a smack before it fluttered to the floor, landing face down. You were panting, trying to find your breath, a whimper escaping the back of your throat. You could feel the emotions building hot behind your eyes.

And then, you screamed.

#betty my beloved #Stop the world and melt with you #Eddie Munson series #twilight zone #eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson fic #fic rec always

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