#eddie munson afab!reader insert | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vivwritescrappythings · 5 months ago

Text

squeeze

tattoo artist!eddie munson x fem!afab!reader

Eddie is your tattoo artist and long term boyfriend, one night you have an idea of how to spice up your next tattoo session.

an: idk why I thought of this but I did

cw: fem and afab reader, needles, tattoos, unsanitary tattoo practices, don’t let anyone do this to you, p in v sex, cockwarming, masturbation, mild dubcon, mentions of marijuana use, i picture this version of eddie as older, masochism, swearing, dirty talk, not proofread.

wc: 2.3k

masterlist

MDNI

—

It was only after a few joints that you could have ever thought this was a marginally good idea. You and Eddie were well baked by the time you stumbled out of his van in the alley, eyes bloodshot and a wide smile on your face. The rest of the tattoo shop was dark as Eddie snuck you in the back door, the two of you giggling like vandals as though it wasn’t his shop. The keys jingled as he tucked them back into his pocket, nudging you toward his station.

He turned on the harsh fluorescent lamps surrounding the leather chair in the center of the small space. Paper screens separated it from the rest of the store, drawings and sketches stuck haphazardly all over the dividers and walls. “You’ve been drawing more,” you murmured, looking over the magnitude of new additions.

Eddie was already wiping down the chair and getting set up, looking over his shoulder at you with a hum of acknowledgment. You took in the way his shoulders filled out his worn Metallica shirt, his jacket hanging on a hook near the back door. There was something about his warm, chocolate-colored eyes that made your heart flutter every time he glanced at you.

“You gonna pick something out or just stare at me?” he asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You rolled your eyes, a little too stoned to come up with a response you considered to be clever enough. The wall of flash tattoos beckoned you closer. Eddie had given you countless tattoos at that point, insisting that dating a tattoo artist meant you had to get all your work done by him.

Anyone else would just be cheating.

It was how the two of you met five years ago: you came into the shop with a crumpled piece of paper with a book quote you loved scrawled onto it looking to get your very first tattoo. Eddie had stolen you from the guy who usually took the walk-in clients with a saccharine smile, ushering you to his little sectioned off area and charging you half what he normally would for a tattoo that size. You left with fresh ink and Eddie’s number, and the rest was history.

You squinted up at dozens of drawings crudely taped to the wall, admiring the smooth linework and the variety. There were a few from his Hellfire days, fleshed out Dungeons & Dragons monsters and sets of dice high up near the ceiling. The rest were the typical subjects: skulls and flowers and doodles of food and ghosts.

It was hard to decide, your arms folding over your chest as you worried your lower lip with your teeth. Normally it was a quick decision, you’d pick something off the wall or had an idea of your own and Eddie would be off to the races.

That time it took Eddie pulling out the battered notebook he insisted he did his best work in, his name scratched into the black cover. “How about this one? Been workin’ on it, thought it would look good on you,” he murmured, flipping it open to a page in the middle.

The drawing was beautiful, detailed and delicate while still fitting with the rest of your tattoos. You realized that Eddie was listening when you told him you wanted to tattoo your sternum a few months ago, the pages littered in drawings that were suited to the smooth patch of skin over the bone. As always, he knew what you wanted more than you did.

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” you finally said, tracing it with your fingertip.

“Yeah? You sure?” Eddie asked, already rifling through drawers to put together a stencil.

You nodded, biting your lower lip as you sat back on the leather chair. “Matches everything else you’ve put on me,” you said, making yourself comfortable as he went off to trace out a stencil.

You fidgeted with the well-worn Corroded Coffin shirt you were wearing, running your fingers over the torn-up hem and looking up at the ceiling tiles Eddie had painted black.

Meeting Eddie must have been the luckiest moment of your life. You never thought that you’d find someone, for some reason you’d been convinced that you were beyond what anyone wanted—destined to be the old lady with the cats at the end of the street. But Eddie wanted you, he wanted you fiercely and with a passion that was almost startling sometimes.

“Alright, dove, shirt off,” Eddie said, startling you out of your thoughts. He rounded the corner with the stencil in hand, chocolatey eyes focused on you.

You complied, slipping the shirt off your head and tossing the fabric onto a nearby folding chair. The cold air in the shop made you shiver with just your pajama shorts on. You’d forgone wearing a bra, the trip to the tattoo parlor borne from a spontaneous idea you had in the living room of your shared apartment.

“Never gonna get tired of that,” Eddie mumbled, staring at your chest as you settled back onto the cold leather. You rolled your eyes as your face started to heat up, part of you wanting to cover your chest with your hands.

Eddie stood between your legs, rolling over the silver tray that held the little containers of ink and gloves and his machine. He’d already washed his hands, his fingers were cold as he shaved off the smattering of vellus hairs covering your skin. You squeaked when he wiped down your skin with an alcohol pad. His tongue poked out when he concentrated, his brow furrowed as he started to apply the stencil.

He pressed firm to get it to transfer, pulling the strip of paper away and reaching for a mirror for you to see it. It was weird to see yourself reflected back in the small hand mirror. You sat up to properly inspect how it looked between your tits, the U-shaped stretch marks between them catching and shining in the fluorescent light. The mirror tilted up, letting you see your own bloodshot, hazy gaze in the mirror. The blunts Eddie had rolled earlier were strong.

“Looks great, Eds,” you said, lips quirking into a grin as you settled back on the chair. Eddie hummed, letting the mirror drop with a clatter on his drawing space as he went to wash his hands again.

He came back ready, black latex gloves pulled over his hands and hair tied back in a low bun at the nape of his neck.

Bony hips knocked the insides of your thighs apart, your boyfriend curling down over you. “You still feeling up to the rest of this?” he asked, a brow lifting until it disappeared under his frizzy bangs. You were silent for a minute, taking in the sincerity of his expression. “You don’t have to if you’re not feeling right, dove. I can just do the tattoo and we can go home.”

You furrowed your brow, shaking your head and blurting out protests a little too eagerly. It made him grin, boyish charm returning to his stubble-ridden face as though he wasn’t a day out of high school.

“If you feel uncomfortable, what do you say?” Eddie prompted softly, leaning forward to nudge his nose against your temple. He didn’t touch you with his hands, keeping them sterile.

“Yoo-hoo,” you mumbled a little sheepishly. Eddie picked it, the safe word always made you roll your eyes.

He hummed sweetly, pressing a kiss just above your eyebrow. “That’s right,” Eddie said, the simple praise already making you feel warm.

You bit your lower lip as you looked up at him, watching him get the machine going and getting ink on the needles. It felt like your body was buzzing with anticipation, your knees squeezing at his waist.

“Help me out, can’t get my hands dirty,” Eddie said, twisting to fuss with something on the tray next to him. You didn’t care about what he was grabbing, only reaching forward to loop your fingers in the waistband of the sweatpants he was wearing. On a normal day he wouldn’t be caught dead here in sweatpants.

The original idea had come from you. Something in your stoned mind combined to make you ask Eddie if he’d ever thought about cockwarming while giving a tattoo. He looked at you like you’d grown a second head, but fifteen minutes later he wanted to bring your fantasy to life.

“Been so fucking hard ever since you brought this up,” Eddie hissed through his teeth as you pulled his sweatpants down over his cock. It slapped up against his stomach, the tip flushed red and already leaking. You swallowed thickly, reaching out to wrap your hand around him.

The soft moan coming from Eddie’s pink lips was gratifying in more ways than you expected, satisfaction making you feel warm as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“You want me to take my shorts off?” you asked quietly, tilting your head to one side. There was a thrill associated with being naked in the tattoo shop. Of course, it was the middle of the night as no one would have reason to be there, but it still felt scandalous all the same.

“Yeah,” he said, the harsh buzzing of the tattoo machine starting as he touched the needle to the ink. The sound was familiar to you now, part of you associating it with Eddie. “It’ll be complicated to do this if you leave them on.”

You rolled your eyes, letting go of him to strip yourself of your shorts. He cursed under his breath when he saw you completely naked on the chair. Brown eyes traveled over every curve and slope of your body, taking it all in with reverence as his tongue poked out to run over his bottom lip.

There was a brief pause, the two of you waiting for the other to do something. Eddie ended up taking charge.

“Play with yourself for me,” he mumbled, staring down at your cunt. His gloved fingers twitched. “Get her nice and wet.”

Your face heated up at his request, bashfulness binding your chest together for a moment. It was impossible not to comply with Eddie’s request, your fingers finding their place between your legs. You touched yourself without fanfare, your fingertips settling on either side of your clit and rubbing in tight circles.

His gaze was locked on your cunt, chin pressed to his chest and lips parted. Normally you would be embarrassed under that kind of focus, but the awe shining in Eddie’s eyes made your anxiety slip away.

Your movements were practiced and smooth, sending electricity up and down your spine. It was easy to get turned on, your breaths eventually becoming pants and wetness building up around your fingers. His jaw was clenching, you knew he wanted to pull your fingers away and touch you himself.

He huffed, swallowing hard before directing his gaze to your eyes. “Alright, let’s do this,” he said, stepping in closer between your legs. “Before I just decide to ruin my sterile environment and fuck you the right way.”

The idea was enticing, making you bite your lip as you considered. But you already came all the way down here and had the stencil placed and ink in the tattoo gun. And you wanted to make your fantasies happen.

You grabbed Eddie’s cock, your wet fingers smearing down the length of it. Of all the times you fucked, you almost never were the one to guide him inside of you. It was a bit clumsy as you dragged his tip through the soaked seam of your cunt, nudging against the swollen bud of your clit a few times.

Finally you hit your mark, Eddie’s deep moan filling the air as he slotted himself inside of you with a strong thrust. The patch of dark, soft curls at his base brushed against your already sensitive clit. The stretch made you see stars. Your head rolled back against the leather chair, a breathy whine pulling from you as he rubbed against every gummy ridge and gooey spot inside of you.

“Eddie,” you whimpered, brows pulling together as you looked up at him. He seemed to be going through a similar sense of euphoria, his long lashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he breathed into the feeling.

His eyes open, pupils expanding like ink in water as he curled over you, readying the tattoo machine over your chest. He blinked hard, rutting softly against you once… twice… before steadying. The concentration was incredible to witness, his expression hardening and jaw flexing again.

“You ready, dove?” he asked, briefly glancing up at you before staring at the patch of stenciled skin like he could burn a tattoo into it with just his eyes.

“Yeah,” you breathed, feeling like your entire body was made up of TV static as you willed yourself to relax on the chair.

He nodded, the familiar buzz of the tattoo gun starting again. It pressed to your skin like fire, the vibration carrying from the gun all the way down into the flat bone of your sternum. You held your breath without meaning to, toes curling.

Eddie groaned, a smile finding its way onto his face. “You’re squeezing so fucking tight around me,” he said, voice a bit raspier than normal.

You made a conscious effort to relax, staring up at the ceiling and tapping the tips of your fingers along the sides of the chair. “Sorry,” you murmured, a giggle echoing from you as Eddie resumed the line he was tattooing.

Each stab of the needles kept your body alight, teetering you on the edge of pain and pleasure. “You're such a masochist.”

You smiled, your gaze hazy and your pussy fluttering a bit as you took shallow breaths. “I know, it’s gonna be a long night.”

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #reader insert #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #tattoo artist!eddie

813 notes · View notes

caxde · 2 years ago

Text

unlovable | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary you are Dustin’s older sister, you and Eddie used to be boyfriend and girlfriend, but haven't spoke to each other, until your little brother messes things up. (5.3k)

warnings fem!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, exes! in love, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn exes to lovers, idiots in love!!!, panic attack tw!, english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!

“I told you I don’t wanna hear anything more about it!” You whined once again, as he was still babbling away.

“Oh, get over it!” He finally snapped. “It’s been more than a year!” He screamed at you, not with anger, but with resignation in his voice.

“Don’t…”

“I… Look… You only have to drive me there, you can go later, I’ll call you when I need to come back and I’ll make sure you don’t even cross paths with him… Please?” His eyes looked through his eyebrows, begging, needing a yes.

“Dust…” You try to change his mind once again, knowing damn well that he had won, once again. “Okay…” As your hands rested on your side in full resignation, his went up in celebration, smiling and screaming thank you, thank you.

How could you say no to him? It wasn’t your fault that he had grown so fond of him while you two were dating, and it’s not his fault that you broke things off… Well, you didn’t actually. How could you?

That thought crossed your mind often, how could you? or, in other words how could he? You had loved him like you never had anyone else, and he still couldn’t fight for you two to stay together. When he decided to stay quiet, and grow distant when you needed him close and by your side, it had been his choice.

It’s not like it was your fault, or his. It’s just that sometimes, loving someone is not enough.

And it wasn’t enough, even if it killed you, you needed space to grow, he needed his space anyway. And it was hard, knowing that your brother hung out with him regularly, crossing looks with him when he dropped Dustin off, sadness in his eyes, remorse in yours. It was hard, but it was getting bearable.

You had agreed to be on good terms for Dustin’s sake, so that’s what you did.

The sound of the door closing snapped you back into reality, making you sit up once again, back straighter. Your mirror propped up in front of your bed, you looked at yourself, remembering his touch anywhere the sun kissed your skin.

You took a deep breath, and muttered to yourself okey, let’s do this then. So you did. You stood up, opened your wardrobe and thought what to wear exactly, deciding that if he had to see you, you might as well look good and take yourself out on a date later, perhaps to that new coffee shop that had opened down the street.

Be as it may, you had dressed yourself comfortably enough to not be cold in autumn weather, and you looked at your face once more.

Lipstick, that’s what you needed, it always made you feel good on days you were down, and a little boost is what you needed now.

Dustin was waiting for you downstairs, smile big and bright, with your car keys in his hand.

“You're not driving.” You said to him, coldly, almost mocking him.

“Yeah, I know. Soon enough though!” He screamed back cheerfully. You nodded in response as you unlocked the car.

You didn’t have to ask him where to, you had memorized long ago how to get to his home, even some shortcuts, for when you were a little bit tipsy and didn’t want Hopper to stop you and give you the talk. You smiled at the thought of that, and Dustin seemed to notice, as your right hand left the wheel for just a second to mess with your hair a bit, leaving your face free of cover.

The sun was setting once you parked your car, and the sky shined bright with a beautiful sunset, soft oranges mixing with pink clouds. You had to step out and take a good look at it.

Dustin opened your door for you, he always did, with a big smile he waited for your shy thank you, which you gave accompanied by a little ruffle of his hair. He nudged you with his head, making you both smile as you looked up.

“Hey, thanks for bringing me here.” He said, you could tell that he was being extremely honest.

“Anything for you, kid.” You replayed back, your hands fidgeting with an unlit cigarette. “When do I pick you up?” You asked him, your head lowering to look at him.

“I can bring him back.” Eddie’s voice had appeared, and with it, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

“Hi” You muttered shyly, as you spun around to look at him.

His hair was as wild as ever, shade so dark it contrasted with his pale skin. Old Iron Maiden shirt with holes in the neck laid perfectly on top of his chest, hugging him in all the right places. Your eyes looked down, checking him out. His jeans still hugged his thighs just as good as you remember. But what you didn’t notice was that he was doing the exact same thing.

He had to take a moment to look at you, the whole you. Your legs crossed over one another, accentuating even more your figure, your arms across your chest, making it a center of his attention, worsened by the fact that your breath had sped up, and your breathing made you move your chest up and down fast. Your exposed neck had made him remember how much he enjoyed biting you, so he ended up biting his own lip when his eyes met yours.

It was the first time you were talking. And so much time had passed.

“Hi” He said back, softly, a smile forming in his lips.

Dustin excused himself to get inside, clumsy, and admiring the fact that you two were actually talking again, he was mesmerized and he obviously spied on you two from the crack of Eddie’s entrance door.

His hand reached in his pocket, lighter coming out, he offered it to you. So you nod as you let your cigarette linger in between your lips, feeling the warmth of the flame as you are at a loss for words.

Not too sure what to say, or do.

“You don’t have to bring him back, I can come and get him…” You say, as your eyes leave the floor and look back up at him, nodding at Dustin’s way. He shrugs in response.

“I don’t mind. And I know you don’t like driving at night.” He answers, with his hands buried in his back pockets.

And maybe it’s the fact that he remembered such a stupid detail, but a soft smile forms on your lips.

“Okay then, thanks.” You answer back. Looking at how much you had left to smoke, knowing that once you finish, so did this conversation. He seemed to understand as much.

“Henderson?” He begged, his eyebrows raised as he looked deep into your eyes.

“Munson?” You answer back, cooly, calmly. Smoke escaping from your lips.

“It really is good to see you.” He admits, smug in his face.

You smile in response, a short nod to him as you inhale again, speaking to him as smoke comes out and he’s lost in you again.

“Yeah, it is.” You smile in response. “I’m a sight to be seen.” You mock, as you make you both chuckle softly, a distance still visible between both of you.

“You've been taking care of yourself?” He asks, a bit of worry could be heard.

“Yeah, I always am, Munson.” You take your final drag as you smile at him, closing your eyes so smoke won’t get inside of them.

“Continue to do so then. You look good.” He whispers the last part, but you always had a good ear, so you nod as you smile and open the door to your car.

“Yeah, so do you.” You say as the engine starts to roar.

“So… You just talked?” Steve laid on your couch, Red-vine in his mouth, pulling it to pieces with his teeth.

“Small talk.” You said, no thoughts behind your eyes, you walked up to him “Move” You told him as you signaled moving your hand side to side. His legs reached the floor.

“Ouch.” He said in response, giving you some of the candy. “Small talk… That hurt?” He asked, eyebrow raised, eyes meeting your calm gaze.

“Not as much as I thought it might.” You admit to him. Your head is finally resting on the couch. Eyes closed as you remember him, and his stupid smile. “Fucker told me “it was good to see me” and that “I looked good.” “ You explain to Steve as you air-quote your way through. The sweet taste of the Red-Vines hitting your tongue.

“Shit.” He said in response. You felt him standing up. “Wanna talk about it?” You opened your eyes, seeing him reach over to the water.

“Noisy.” You tease as you accept the cup. “Not really” You add as an answer to his question.

“O-kay” He said, extending the first syllable. Giving you his blanket as he pulled another one from his side. “So, what’s it gonna be today?”

“Labyrinth?”

“I’m not feeding into your Bowie obsession.”

“M’kay. Goonies?”

“Don’t wanna babysit now.”

“Rude. Okay. You choose then, I don’t wanna think.” You finally let out, the heels of your hands covering your eyes in frustration.

A beat. Steve could be heard messing around the VCR, his jeans ruffling as he moved, until his body laid beside you, his arm cuddling you into his chest, as you finally rested.

Breakfast Club started, and you muttered a thank you.

Steve kissed your forehead.

Steve had always been there for you, thick and thin. Just like you were there when he had a crush on Robin, or even now, when he was falling for Nancy again. Funny enough, you both seemed to be in the same sinking boat. As you usually were.

Your eyelids were starting to feel heavier by the minute, and you were determined to not fall asleep for once, even if you were really, truely, deeply comfortable under the warm blankets.

The movie was about to end, and your eyelids feel heavy. Still, your eyes opened wide as a noisy van parked outside, with blaring loud music as it screeched.

“Munson?” Steve asked, rubbing his eyes while still half asleep.

“Guess so.” You muttered, looking out the window, stretching your arms under the blanket that you were now sharing with Steve.

Sure enough, the long haired boy popped out, helping your brother to jump out of the passenger’s seat, and for what felt for a moment, looked straight at you, a frown appearing in his face. Your eyes left him, as your mouth closed, and minted, you followed Dustin until you heard the door rattling.

“Hey Dust.” You said, your voice raspy from falling half asleep.

“Hey Henderson.” Steve said after you, a hand raised so he could high five.

“Hey” He said back, tiredness coming from his voice. “Going to bed, is that okay?” He asked as he reached the first step of the stairs.

“Yeah, of course.” You smiled at him. He nodded and started to go up. “Good night!” You screamed at him.

“Night!” He yelled back.

“I should go too. It’s late.” Steve said, looking at his wrist watch, you nodded in response as he tore the blanket away from your body.

“I’ll walk you out.” You say, your voice is still raspy. Yawning as you lazily stretch.

He offers you his hand, so he can pull you up, laughing as he does, your feet reach the cold, and you smile. You open the door, and to your surprise, Eddie is still there.

Though you pay him no mind, your eyes meet before hugging Steve goodbye.

“You’ll bring the tape back?” He asks, nodding to the living room, and trying to stall as he sees how nervous you are all of a sudden.

“Yeah, drop it off before work.” You smile.

He winks at you as he hugs you once again, and you both say goodnight.

You’re left there, on your porch, arms crossed on your chest, looking at a speechless Eddie, who just shakes his head in shock at the image of you two together.

“What are you-” He cuts you off, in his voice you notice, he is just as hurt as he is angry.

“You and Harrington?”

“What?”

“Are you serious?” His face flinched as he looked deeper into your eyes, not mad, that might not be the right word, but hurt didn’t make it justice to the way he felt either.

“Eddie, what are you doing here?” You mutter, your arms falling to your side in exhaustion, not really following the reason of his outburst.

“I… Dustin…”

“Yeah, Dustin. Sure.” You were growing cold now. He was doing what he usually did, burying everything that he actually needed or wanted to say, and you resorted to your all ways, though your voice growing tired, you agreed with what he was saying even if you didn’t, avoiding a major fight.

You locked eyes once again. Your arms wrapped with one another, sitting on top of your chest, looking down at him from your porch, as you bite your lower lip. His hands deep in his pockets, shoulders raised, looking up at you, his eyes glistening as he contemplated you, not really sure what he had to say.

“Good Night then, Eddie.” You said, your voice coming out thinner than you had wished.

“Yeah, good night…” He replayed as he stepped back, looking at you as you shutted the door and went back inside. Speechless once again.

Infuriated might be a good word to describe the way you were still feeling weeks later.

You did doubt yourself, and replayed the moment a million times over and over in your head, but everytime you did, you are left with the same thoughts.

Why the Hell did Eddie care if you hung out with Steve?

Steve had always been your friend, and he knew that, shit, even when you used to go out with him, Steve would tag along and eventually became friends with him, Eddie even invited him to some D&D sessions he did. Eddie never had had a problem, or had been jealous, but then again, why do you care so much? You two were nothing. You had been friends. You had been lovers. Now you were just somebody you had once loved.

And if you were honest with yourself, which you tried, you really didn’t feel like it could be spoken out loud, a fear of it being said, making all of this feeling you had materialize into something real, something you weren’t too sure you could be able to live with or act on.

And again, being in a room getting ready with Nancy and Robin just made it all worse.

Not because you disliked them, or didn’t enjoy their company, but because a tiny little voice inside your head was screaming to be heard, and you were only getting quieter, and quieter.

And the fact that Robin was trying to make Nancy speak about her love life in an interest to help Steve was only driving you completely more mad. As if you had no other option but to scream. So ever so subtly you walked over the stereo and made it louder, so some of the noise could be drowned out.

It seemed to work.

At least it did long enough to finish getting ready. Hair was teased where it needed to be, your eyes were decorated with eyeliner and eyeshadow, and your lips, as always, were in blood red.

You were still quiet when you got on the backseat of the car, as you looked through the window, waiting to see which house it was this weekend. Hawkins had little to choose from anyways, and teen parties were an open invitation for everyone.

Downtown, in god-knows-who’s house, you got lost as you usually did when too many things were going on. Overwhelmed didn’t come close to explaining it.

The music felt too loud. The people were too close to one another and to you. They were yelling too. Smoke filled the air enough so the colours were dimmed. You could hardly breath without feeling as your chest was closing. And none of your friends seemed to be there with you.

You needed to get out. As if air was escaping your lungs, your chest felt heavier with every breath you exhaled, a shaking hand grasped your chest, and it took you a while to realize it was your own. You were disoriented, so you ran until you found a safe exit. A backdoor that nobody seemed to be close to.

The cold air hitted you slowly, as your body collapsed on the floor, sitting down the dirty stairs. Your hands searched for your neck, scratching it as you realized, the one who you heard crying was you. The information seemed to come to you backwards.

So maybe that’s why you don’t really register it as it happens.

You do hear a familiar voice, soft and calm, and you feel hands wrapping your wrist, and as your eyes look at them, you see his rings. So when your head travels up to meet his eyes, a soft smiling Eddie is there, whispering something you can’t quite figure out yet.

In this instance, the only thing that you can actually feel is his touch, the contradiction of his rough hands being so soft, the coldness of his rings tracing a pattern on the back of your hands. As soon as one of them leaves yours to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, your attention is now back at him, a soft smile on his lips as he looks deep into your eyes, you feel his fingers slowly find their way on the back of your neck as he begins to whisper.

“Five things you can see.” He tells you slowly, softly, with no evident worry in his voice, even if he’s screaming on the inside.

“Wh- What?” You manage to let out as your breathing is still fast and tears still come out. He just nods and gives you a reassuring smile. You nod in return as you start looking around. “The tree.”

“That’s one.”

“Leaf.”

“That’s two.”

“Trash”

“Okay, three.” He says in between a soft chuckle.

“My…my shoe.”

“One more?” He begs.

“You.” You say as you look at him.

“Four things you can touch.” He says once again, his hand that was on your neck travelling down again to go with his left hand, holding yours tightly and softly at the same time.

“Uh…” You try to not get stressed as you look around, and can’t seem to find anything, until you look down and see his knee touching your leg, and you begin to feel the pressure it leaves back into your body. “Your knee.”

“Mmh.” He nods, as he bites his lower lip. “Go on.”

“My jeans.”

“That’s two.”

“Your hands.” He nods as his fingers stroke your skin. “And your rings.”

“Good.” He says reassuringly. “You’re doing great. Now, three things you can hear.”

“The music.” You spat out, still feeling like it’s loud.

“Yeah..”

“My voice.” He nods again as you blink slowly, regaining a sort of control of your own body, and where you were and what was going on. “And your voice.”

“Two things you can smell? Please?” Your eyes dart back to the ground, an unfinished cigarette still burning.

“The smoke.” You say as you point it. “And you.” You say as your head moves back to him, realizing again, how close he actually was, close enough to remember the way he always smells of sandalwood because he always burns it.

He smiles at you. A true smile, one that lets you know he remembers how you always complained about his room being too smoky because of his fixation with incense, and how you always begged him to open the window just three inches.

“One thing you can taste.” He says now, with his voice sounding as he always did, happy, relaxed, playful.

“Um..” You could say what you wanted to, you wanted to say you, but didn’t dare to do so, so you just looked around, until you saw Eddie reach down on his front pocket and grab two more cigarettes as he offered it to you with a peace-making smile. “That”

“Good.” He mutters as he lights it for you, before his own. You look down as you accept it, taking in the smoke to slowly release it, your shoulders finally relaxing. You feel his arm behind your back, a familiarity in the way he rests invades you again.

“Thank you Edds…” You say, as you look back into his maroon eyes. They shine as they look back at you.

“Anything you need…” He says in response softly. “I didn’t know you still got them.”

“I don’t… Well, it’s been a while since I had one.” You say as you both look at each other. Your eyes looking down at his lips involuntarily. So does he.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m sorry you had to see it.” He shakes his head no. “But I’m glad you were here.” You confess, a soft smile forming in your lips before you can avoid it. A moment of true sincerity and vulnerability shared with him.

“D’you wanna go home?” He asks, as he nudges your leg with his knee.

“Nancy’s car so… I’ll just wait out here.” You replay as you nudge his back with your shoulder, his curly hair bouncing as you hit him playfully.

“Nah, I’ll drive you, come on.” He said as he stood up, offering his hand to you so you could stand up.

You know that taking it is a promise, a truce, a trip to the past in a way.

And you don’t care, you don’t care at all.

It was impressive in a way, how it stayed as it always had. It smelt the same, it was in the same neatly organized mess, even the stains seemed to be formed in the same patterns as it did when you came last time.

It was embarrassing to have to be here, but thank god he told you to come over. And you swear you grabbed your keys, and you tried to climb the windows, but your mom had the brillant idea to actually lock them down today, and she was out of town, and you had no idea where Dustin actually was so… In the end, and as he putted, it was better if you slept in his couch than on your porch.

But it did feel weird, or funny. Seeing Wayne’s mugs again, smelling the sandalwood that came from his room, and the little bit of dust that the sofa let out every time the cushions were used or moved.

A year had passed yet time seemed to not affect the Munson household.

“I um… I kept some of your things so…” He said as he emerged back from his room. A smile appeared on your face before you could help it.

“You did?” You asked, looking down at what he was carrying.

“Um, yeah, couldn’t let…” He didn’t finish the sentence, thought he didn’t have to, you couldn’t seem to let go either. In his hands, the shirt you always borrowed, some of your presumed lost underwear, and your backup toilet bag.

“Thank you Edds…” You said for what felt like the millionth time this evening. He shook his head as he gave it to you, and headed to the kitchen.

“You can uh, take a shower or anything you need, I’ll make you some tea yeah?” You nodded, as you saw him smile. “You still like it without milk?” He asked loudly from the kitchen as you passed through.

“Yeah…” You tell him, and as you close the door behind you, you can’t help but whisper. “You remember.”

And the memories keep hitting you as you let the hot water run down your body.

Eddie brushing your hair while he sang under his breath and you followed along. You washing his hair everytime the two of you happen to share the space where you where standing, and how often he would pull you closer when you had to rinse so he would be cold -and how it always ended in moaning and laughter-. You were blushing at the memory, even when you were putting the comfy clothes back on, you remember losing the little thong, and how he threw it away across the room before going down on you.

Hair still wet and slightly knotted, you stepped out to the living room, comfy and warm clothes on.

“Hey Moon..” You say before you realized you called him by his old pet name you used to use. He smiles fondly at that, so your only reaction is to blush as you look back at him. “I um… I couldn’t find the hair brush…”

“Shit yeah, it’s in my room, I’ll get it.” He says as he rushes to find it, you follow him this time, and are shocked to find that he still has a picture of the two of you on his wall. It had always been where your eyes looked first, maybe it was muscle memory at this point. But next to his Corroded Coffin sprayed-old bed sheet, close by his bed, there you were, you were kissing his cheek as he had his arm wrapped around your waist, and he was smiling at the ground.

When Eddie looked back at you, he looked at it too and gave you a coy smile, you smiled big showing your teeth, pink invading your face, just like he had in his.

“You still keep it?” You ask, as you point at it and look back at him, noticing how he anxiously plays with the hairbrush now.

“I yeah… I mean… forget it.” He begins to walk back to the sofa, and he sits down, clearly embarrassed now.

So you did what you always did, you followed him and sat next to him. And maybe it really was muscle memory for him, or just the fact that it all felt like it did before, the tension, the electricity, the care for one another, but he started brushing your hair before you could say anything else, or before he even realized what he was really was doing, but once he did, since he didn’t hear any complaints from you, he just kept going.

“Why do you still have it, Edds?” You ask in a whisper of a voice, because honestly, it felt absurd to talk at a normal volume in such an intimate moment.

“Why do you wanna know that, my love?” my love. It rings in your ears for a second longer. He hasn’t called you that since you left, and hearing his voice say it again, in such a warm tone, only made your skin tingle and fill with soft goosebumps, as wet hair hitted it. You had your back turned to him, and his fingers were cautious to not pull the hair in any way that would hurt you, leaving it softly once that section was brushed.

“I just… please?” You said as you moved a bit to quickly glance at him, a soft smile appearing in his face, his brown eyes looking black since his pupils were bigger than before.

“What do you want me to say…”

You waited in silence, knowing that once he was finished with the last strand of hair you could turn to actually face him, to actually look him in the eyes, to for once, talk things out.

So when you felt the coldness of your wet hair hit the shirt and the back of your neck, and his fingers playfully shaking it a bit, as he used to do it every time he did this for you, you rotated your body slowly, your leg completely touching his, you were both dangerously close to one another, though it didn’t feel like a problem, much to different, in felt good, in felt like it was natural.

With just a little move of your head, he knew you wanted an answer, an honest one at that, so he nodded before he opened his mouth again, looking at you before doing so. His eyes stopping for a second too long on your lips, losing themselves in them for more time than it was allowed.

“I can’t seem to let you go.” He declared, honestly, with his voice shaking. “I regret what I did, I regret not saying anything when I could, I regret not being with you. I regret not loving you as much as you truly deserved to be loved, but I could never, ever regret being with you. You have been the best thing that has ever happened to me, even if you don’t feel the same way about me I…” His eyes were glossy with held-back tears, though he was smiling as he said it all.

Your hand grabbed his, and both of your eyes looked down for a second. Yours stayed there as you began to talk, while he had only had eyes for you.

“I never could regret you Eddie.” You say sincerely. Your voice breaks as you feel everything come up again, trying not to actually cry. “You were… You are everything I’ve ever wanted…” You confess looking back up at him, smiling just as much as you do. “You did love me, I know that, but, by the end, I didn’t feel loved, you made me feel like I was unlovable… And that… That hurt so much.” You declare, breaking down, a few tears escaping, as you meet his sight again.

“I’m sorry, I really am my love. But please, please…” He begged as he squeezed your hand ever so slightly. “Believe me, you are the most lovable person I know, and you deserve everything you want and need, and I’m sorry I couldn’t give it to you… I… I wish I could, I don’t know… I just…”

“What?” You asked as his left thumb whipped a tear out of your cheek, and you buried your face in his palm.

“I wish I could prove it to you now.”

It takes a moment to understand what he is actually saying. And once you do, for once in your life, you take initiative.

Your hand leaves his touch, and travels up his arm until it reaches the back of his neck, his eyes open a bit at that, and you take that as an invitation. You move your body closer to him, so much so that you sit in his lap, pulling him closer, finally, after what felt like an eternity, you kiss him. And even if your heart is beating so fast it feels like it could escape your body, you feel how he is just has nervous as you actually are, not because he hesitates on kissing you back, but because you can actually hear his rapid heartbeat, and you can feel the way his hand grip your body, a long kiss that says I missed you. His arms wrap your waist tightly, yours grab his neck, while your body pushes his back to the couch, grinding as the kiss deepens.

You can feel him smiling as he kisses you just as intensely as you are. And you are smiling just as big.

You need to stop for a second, to actually get your breath back. But you don’t pull back, your forehead touching his, your nails screeching his skin in loving strokes, his fingers rubbing your back in true disbelief.

“Don’t fuck this up again. Please.” You tell him, with your eyes still closed.

“I won’t, I’m not losing you again.”

if you enjoyed (i I really hope you did), please reblog! i promise it makes a difference <3

5K notes · View notes

ijustwanttoreadfanfiction · 2 years ago

Text

Just Happy To Be Here

Eddie Munson x AFAB! Reader

This is such a crack fic, honestly I love writing adorable Eddie.

Warnings: References to sex, references to oral sex, explicit language.

_______________________________________________

Eddie is almost 99% sure he dreamt you up. There's no other explanation, you're beautiful, smart, sexy as all hell, funny, kind, caring, and you love him. Did he also mention sexy as all hell? He did? Good.

The whole thing was absurd, it warranted scientific investigations, academics would one day research the phenomenon and write expansive books on the subject.

'The woman who obviously hit her head incredibly hard and fell in love with the town freak - a study.'

In the two years you'd been dating, aka the best years of Eddie's life, the thing he appreciates most is how comfortable you are with each other now. When you first started dating that was also great but you were both trying so hard to impress each other all the time. He remembered when you got a really bad rash from shaving your pussy so much, the sore, red raw skin made him so sad, he had told you in no uncertain terms after that, that you could have a glorious bush to rival Laura Sands and he would still the happiest (and horniest) man on Earth, because it was you.

Besides, who doesn't enjoy an adventurous trek through the jungle every now and then?

But back to being comfortable, like now you’re sitting length-ways on the sofa, back to his chest, stained sweatpants, holey t-shirt, three day old hair, shoveling popcorn into your mouth in, quite frankly, an aggressive manner and all Eddie can think is 'goddess'.

"- I mean I know you shouldn't root for the shark, but pay more attention to your kid lady!" You gripe around your mouthful, gesturing at the television. Eddie presses a firm kiss to your cheek, grinning over just how much he adores you.

"What was that for?" You ask, a bashful smile on your face.

"Nothin', just like you is all." He says attempting to be casual, but failing miserably, fingers tracing up and down your arm.

You beam at him, and he thinks he might have a heart attack when you turn your head, planting a big kiss on his lips, you taste like caramel and cherry cola.

"I like you too baby." You whisper, pecking at his lips one more time before turning back to the screen to shout.

"I mean c'mon who cares about some whiney kid, what about the fucking dog?!"

Anyway, sex, oh sweet Jesus, sex with you, it’s the best. Being a social outcast, Eddie hadn’t been afforded many opportunities to have relations with the female of the species, he certainly wasn’t a virgin but outside of the occasional inebriated hook up he relied mostly on his hand and vivid imagination.

So when you strolled into his life, with your heavenly curves and devilish smirk, and actually wanted him, he was decidedly at your mercy. He still can’t believe that he gets to see you naked, like if he wants to see your tits he only needs to ask, and you’ll happily flash him.

Last weekend you had been hanging out at the trailer, both of you sprawled across his bed, Eddie leaning against the headboard busy learning some new chords.

“Eds I’m bored.” You sigh, throwing your book to one side, crawling over to him on all fours.

“We can go for a walk or something in a bit if you want sweetheart.” He murmurs absentmindedly, practicing his finger placement.

“I don’t want to go for a walk.” You say coquettishly, pressing your arms into your chest, giving your tits a boost.

“So - uh - what did you want to do?” Eddie asks, hands stilling on the strings, eyes unabashedly fixed to your breasts.

“You.” You reply simply, leaning back to pull your top over your head.

If he had been holding anything other than his guitar it would have been flung across the room, instead he scrambled up, placing her back into her stand as carefully as possible before throwing himself back to the bed in a chaotic state of undress; so eager to just be involved.

The first time you had sex together Eddie came in two minutes, you were so fucking beautiful and sexy, and you definitely have a vice between your legs rather than a vagina. He was mortified, thinking you’d up and leave, instead you giggled and smiled blissfully, kissing and petting him until he was ready for round two… and three.

There is always laughter during sex, it's only to be expected, both of you being inherently clumsy and awkward humans. You’ll say dumb shit like “Climb aboard sailor, and find me booty!”, or when switching positions someone will accidentally get kneed in the crotch, Eddie’s rings catching in your hair, you deciding you’re not actually going to squirt but rather desperately have to pee halfway through. Some of Eddie’s best orgasms have been when he is laughing with you, like the time you had to relocate to his floor as Wayne was home and the bedframe kept nudging against the wall with a tell-tale ‘thump, thump, thump’, instead of getting up like normal people you both decided to simply roll off the mattress still connected. Teeth, heads, and elbows colliding painfully, but you had sat up with a breathless laugh, resuming your frantic pace, Eddie delirious and hysterical beneath you.

The idea that you found him sexy honestly baffles him, why would you pick him when there were people like Steve Harrington in the world, but then he would catch you staring at him; biting your bottom lip, dreamy look on your face and he knew you were down just as bad as him. Even so the first time you asked to suck him off he asked you to clarify three times just to be sure he hadn’t misheard, when you repeated your request he near enough died, and when you finally put your mouth on him - well it would have been a hell of a way to go out.

_______________________________________________

Taglist: @take-everything-you-can @angietherose @chronicles-of-koystee @lottie9090-blog @akiratoro420 @eddies-hid3out @whoahoney @

606 notes · View notes

madamemedic · 2 years ago

Text

Room for One More? (Chapter One: Nat 20 on Unarmed Strike)

(This is a poly relationship with you, Eddie and Chrissy. Here's a quick list of what will change or stay the same.

1: No Upside Down

2: Jane gets legally adopted by Jim because Becky cannot look after her and Terry at the same time. So he adopts her.

3: Will does not get lost.

4: Bob is alive; he just doesn't date Joyce.

5: Barbara moves out of town to get better education choices.

6: Nancy cheats on Steve, but Steve finds out later. Nancy still ends up with Jonathan.

7: Star Mall is owned by a greedy company, no Russians; thus, it still stands, but Steve and Robin quit anyway.

8: Joyce and Hopper are newly dating.

9: No powers

10: Reader is 19

11: Nobody dies. Even Billy.

12: There is no papa.

That is it. Enjoy.)

Chrissy POV:

As far as Chrissy knew, her life was stagnant and, to be honest, boring. Every day was the same in the sleepy town of Hawkins, Indiana. Wake up, go to school, practice for cheer, go home, sleep and repeat. Chrissy was fed up with the days that seemed to drag on. However, it is always wasn't dull. There were times when two people made the day enjoyable despite not being involved.

It was Eddie Munson and (YFN) (YLN). Every lunchtime, you two arrive hand in hand. The love that even Chrissy could see when you looked at each other was something special. Jason never looked at her like that. It made Chrissy slightly ashamed, but in a way, she was jealous. You two were attached at the hip, where you saw one. The other was just a little behind. Today was no different.

"Look, it's the freak and the weirdo," Jason mutters to his jock friends as you and Eddie sit on the Hellfire table. The way you sat on Eddie's lap was casual like you two were sitting at home. Chrissy then saw Eddie's arm slink around your waist to slide your body closer to his. How could you two be nonchalant with your public displays of affection? Jason wasn't like that. Sure, if he caught anybody looking at Chrissy, he'd bark at them along the lines of 'hey, that's my girl, man' or 'quit staring at my girl.'

Chrissy was no longer interested in her food and couldn't help but watch you two. Eddie leans in to whisper in your ear. It must have been funny because you laughed and lightly tapped Eddie's arm.

"Gross, people like that need to be locked up in looney bins" Jason never held Chrissy close or told her jokes. In fact, Chrissy felt more like a trophy than a girlfriend at times. Of course, she could break up with him, but she didn't like being alone. So Chrissy sucked it up.

The jocks didn't seem to care that their words were mean and downright hurtful. Chrissy was damn sure that Jason was trying to provoke Eddie like always. He didn't always get what he wanted, but today, Jason hit a nerve.

"You got a problem, little boy?" Eddie calls over to her table. Now is where Eddie and Jason exchange insults; Chrissy thinks the whole ordeal was childish. So she usually ignored the talk between the two boys. That was until someone said her name.

"I would say that I feel sorry for your girlfriend having to date a freak like you, but she's like a weirdo like you two. A couple of circus clowns." Chrissy could see that comment got to Eddie since she saw his hand on your hip clench for a few seconds before relaxing.

"Oh, we freaky alright. I bet you don't stray from missionary because any other position scares you," Hellfire's table cheers.

"Damn, I feel sorry for Chrissy; bet never given her the big O; I bet Jason's a one-pump chump kind of guy. But, don't worry, Chrissy baby, if you want to experience a good time, you are more than welcome to come to me, baby, anytime." That's when Chrissy looked at you. You had the most salacious grin on your face, and Eddie looked like he was going to pass away with how hard he was laughing. But, on the other hand, Jason looked ready to burst from anger. Apart from Jason's table, the entire lunch room was laughing along, only fulling Jason's anger.

"Freak, you best put a muzzle on that bitch before I do", Jason had stood up. Chrissy could see that Jason was ready to start a fight.

"A bitch? Now listen here, daddy's trust fund baby. You even try to muzzle my girlfriend, and I'll fucking kick you and your friend's asses" Eddie had now, by the end of his sentence, walked over to the Jock table. This looked like it was going to end in a fight. Still, you had taken Eddie's hand and started to pull him away whilst saying, 'he isn't worth it' and 'Eddie, you can't afford to get another detention.'

"Yeah, that's right, get your bitch to defend you. Fucking slut" Now, up until he said that, you had almost got Eddie to go back to his table, but that's when you did a 180 and stormed over to Jason. His face was cocky, but not for long, as you punched Jason square in the face. There was a loud cracking noise as Jason fell to the floor, cupping his nose.

"FUCK, I THINK SHE BROKE MY GODDAMN NOSE" The room fell silent.

"TRY THAT SHIT AGAIN, AND I'LL BREAK MORE THAN JUST YOUR FUCKING NOSE", You spit at Jason. Chrissy was stunned. Sure there had been back and forths, but this was different. By the time she recovered, you and Eddie were gone. The room now was bustling with whispers as Chrissy had turned to Jason. His face was covered in his own blood... wait for a second; you really did end up breaking Jason's nose or what looked like it to Chrissy, but there was no time to ponder as Jason called for Chrissy to take him to the school nurse. Of course, Chrissy, the ever-doting girlfriend, helped her poor boyfriend to the infirmary. Despite Jason having the broken nose, Chrissy hoped you and Eddie got away safely. Maybe when the dust settled, Chrissy could find you to see if you were OK. But for now, she was stuck tilting Jason's head back to stop the bleeding.

(Hoi, you punched Jason, and now he has a broken nose. Rad. I hope you will leave feedback and enjoy your day or night)

#Eddie x reader x Chrissy #Chrissy x Reader x Eddie #eddie munson x Reader #chrissy cunningham x reader #hellcheer #ST AU #fem! reader #afab! Reader #bi! reader #bisexual reader #bi! chrissy cunningham #bisexual chrissy cunningham #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfics #reader insert

12 notes · View notes

mutenized · 2 years ago

Text

Red String of Fate

Modern Eddie Munson x AFAB Photographer reader

Part 2 is here! thank you all for the love, it really means a lot! @omgitsd0lly really encouraged and supported me to make this fic more than it was going to be! With her support I’ve decided to make this a series so if you haven’t read part one you can find it here and the playlist I’ve made to accompany this work can be found here!

I really don’t know the word count since I’ve been drabbling this in my notes so apologies!

Also I don’t know the name of the one Hellfire Club/Corroded Coffin member so I’m making it up, please don’t hate me lmao

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mention of social anxiety, Dustin is 18 in the fic so it’s not like they’re taking a minor on tour but really would you think Eddie would separate himself from someone he sees as a little brother?

MASTERLIST / REQUEST SOMETHING

Playful giggles left Robin and you as you two nestled together against the crowded bar. Taking advantage of the swarm of fans trying to say hi to Jeff, Gareth, Michael, and especially Eddie, Robin opens the gallery of her camera to show you the photos she took. On your way over, the two of you had agreed to laugh at photos that weren’t even that serious just to make Eddie even more jumpy than he already was.

“Oh and LOOK at this one! What a DORK!” A chortle left Robin which made Gareth push through the crowd to join the both of you at the bar. “That doesn’t look funny at all, what are you two doing?” With a lowered voice, you filled in the brunette in on your antics to which he enthusiastically joined in on.

“Dude! Eddie looks fucking dumb! God bless him.” Fluttering his lashes while he faked a southern drawl, Gareth chuckled as a wheeze laugh escaped your lips. That was it. Politely excusing himself from the girl who wouldn’t stop clinging to his side and flirting, which he playfully returned, Eddie made his way to your part of the bar with crossed arms and feigned annoyance.

“Let me see this photo!” Long arms reached for the expensive body of the camera in which Robin instantly reacted by leaning away from him and cradling it by her chest.

“DUDE, I suggest you don’t grab for my baby unless you want a handful of boob and an earful of terrified screams.” The words that fell off of Robin’s lips made the taller metalhead to retract his arm back to his side before sighing dramatically.

“FINE but I’ll see them later in the hotel, you know that.” With a final pointed (but friendly) glare to the girl who reminded you so much of a more chaotic version of Peter Parker, Eddie’s chocolatey doe eyes focused on you as you nursed your vodka soda. “I’m Eddie, by the way. I hope these two didn’t make you think I’m too much of a dweeb.” Cracking a sideways smile, a hum escaped your throat.

“I don’t know.... they both told me unholy secrets from your high school years...” a lie in which the duo played along with. God you three would be the death of him, he already knew it.

“Oh god.” An exasperated sigh leaves him as his shoulders slump. Rolling your eyes, you hold your hand out and officially introduced yourself. “I was wondering what your name was. You tood out like a sore thumb compared to all this...” Wildly motioning his arms around, you took in the crowd only to shrug. “Hey I’m here to capture the moment and listen to good music, even if it usually isn’t my normal flavor.” With a swig of your drink, you placed the empty cup on the opposite side of the counter before waving to Bella who nodded and quickly threw the cup in the trash.

“Well, big boy,” you teased, slapping your hand against his chest, horror filling his face as he realized you had heard the name the girl whom was previously attached to his side had used, “I gotta go do my job and get the band’s set captured. See you after.”

Pushing through the crowd, you felt a mix of embarrassment and pride fill your chest. Little did you know, Eddie was staring at you with widened eyes and admiration whilst Gareth, Robin, and Jeff, who had joined at the tail end of the conversation, gaped and folded into one another laughing harder than ever before.

The show had come and gone, and you slouched behind the two folding tables that made up of the merch table for the bands. Leaning against the wall, you had gotten into a conversation with your friend’s girlfriend about the photos you’ve taken for the set as well as the ones you had snagged of them in the green room right after the set. Pride was too weak to describe how you felt about these photos, some of them being your best work.

“Hey doll,” snapping your head to Saph, the singer and your friend, “I think fuzzball is making googly eyes at you like he was on stage. Need me to do anything?” Looking over her shoulder, you rolled your eyes playfully before shaking your head. “No, no it’s fine. I might’ve embarrassed him in front of his friends, so I think that’s why he’s like that.” Perking a brow, you filled Saph and her girlfriend in on everything which made tears fill both of their eyes as they folded and held their stomachs laughing.

Making your way back over to the Corroded Coffin crew, you rested your elbow on Robin’s shoulder in which she responded by wrapping her arm around your waist. Your usual social anxiety was nowhere to be found, most likely thanks in part to the alcohol you had consumed earlier. You weren’t paying attention to the conversation filling the now empty venue until you heard your name being mentioned.

“-so, what do you think? Want to join us on the rest of tour?” Snapping back to reality, your eyes focused on Jeff’s. “Oh word? What did you say? I’m sorry but I was zoned out.” A flush fell upon your cheeks as you admitted, half in part to your own fault of zoning out and other part due to Jeff asking you to join them on tour.

“I was asking if you’d want to join us on the rest of tour. Robin’s main focus is on video so having her do double has been running us dry on content so...” Arching his brows and opening his arms out to you as if to say, ‘the choice is yours.’

Looking between the group consisting of your new friend Robin, Jeff, Gareth, Michael, and Eddie, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth gently as you rack your brain to see if you had any prior engagements. Shrugging after an anxious and hopeful pause, you nodded.

“Yea, sure! If you want, we can go out drinking then we can crash at my apartment which also gives me time to pack my shit.” A roar of cheers escaped the group before their merch slinger whom you had learned was named Dustin, trudged inside with a huff. “The merch is in the van, so what’s the deal for tonight!”

The Barcade was filled with the ideal demographic, and the staff didn’t mind Dustin being 18 as long as he didn’t consume any alcohol, so that was a win. Leaning against the Space Invader cabinet that sat unused, your eyes dragged over Eddie’s figure as he and Gareth yelled at one another in competitive spirits.

Twisting the wheels of the racing game, stomping of faux gas pedals were paired with the rigs that held the steering wheels in slamming as they hit the end. “Jesus, if you drive like this in a game, I’m glad you don’t drive the bus.” Walking over behind Eddie’s seat, you focus on his screen and cringe as multiple cars pass his. “Damn, big boy, put some pedal to the metal.” God, there you went with that damn pet name again. If you weren’t so oddly hyper focused on the screen, you would’ve missed the way Eddie’s ring clad fingers squeezed at the peeling faux leather of the steering apparatus.

“Well, princess, better watch what you say. I bet I can beat your ass at this.” Eddie’s head tilted up so his gaze could meet yours. A competitive glint played in the pools of his deep orbs in which you fell into. Rolling your own eyes, your hand lightly shoved his head before pointing to his screen. “You literally drive like a fucking grandma, I can beat you.”

Hopping into the plastic seat to the right of Eddie’s you press 4 tokens into the slot before a ‘waiting’ emblem appeared on screen. Eddie wouldn’t admit it, but between the way you had easily meshed with him and his chosen family, paired with the way you returned the playful jabs he was commonly known for using, his head was dizzy with an affection he hadn’t felt for anyone in a while. He was positive he was being delusional in his tipsy state when he thought that there was a magnetic pull between you both.

Yet he didn’t know you thought the same thing within the first moment your palm met his.

‘Red string of fate is tangling I'll gently pull on the thread Unravel all that's mangling Unclear thoughts in my head’

5 notes · View notes

fridamoss · 2 years ago

Text

𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one | part two | part three | part four

summary you’re a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. queue the movies, nachos, cherry cough syrup, and a couple of moments of clarity. [10k]

warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie’s birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!! tw sick fic

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie has the most peculiar curl tucked up by his neck. Where most are frizzy and loose, this one falls in a perfect shiny ringlet below his ear. He shifts and it's out of view, a curtain of dark hair falling forward and hiding his face as he puts your car in park.

"Remind me why you had to drive?" you ask, ducking down to look at the glaring white lights of the movie theatre across the street.

"You were gonna fall asleep behind the wheel."

For once, Eddie might not be exaggerating. He grins at your lack of rebuttal and throws an arm behind your shoulders, twisting in the driver's seat to set his sights on Junie.

"Are you ready?" he asks her.

She wiggles. It's an ecstatic movement. Her clothes are prim and sweet if you do say so yourself, a long sleeved shirt under a pair of the world's cutest dungarees. They crinkle as she moves, pressed to perfection.

You and Eddie open opposite doors in tandem and step out into the brisk, early night. The sidewalk shines with rain, a black slickness stretching in every direction. You shiver and pull your thin jacket tighter to your torso as you turn back to the car, intending to retrieve Junie and rush into the theatre before you can freeze on the spot.

Eddie's already swung open the door and rescued your daughter from the confines of her car seat, neatening up the hem of one of her socks with her face pushed over his shoulder.

She giggles about something and Eddie says, "Sorry, June. 'M tickling you, am I?" so fondly you have to avert your eyes.

He locks the car and hands over your keys with a smile. You smile back, heart flipping like a spinning coin. Head over tails, over and over.

The big, ring-heavy hand he holds to Junie's back reaches for you suddenly enough that you flinch.

"I'm sorry," he apologises, suppressing a laugh, "your necklace is twisted."

He moves in a second time and you raise your chin, chest aflame as his fingers glance off of your bare skin. He slips the chain over his index and pulls, encouraging the links around until the clasp is hidden again.

"Thank you." You huff an awkward, sheepish laugh.

"You owe me," he says, mock-severe.

Your laugh is much more genuine as you follow him across the road.

You're squinting as you approach The Hawk movie theatre. The title cards are hard to look at, aggressively white with black capital letters that read, 'The Great Mouse Detective 7'.

There's a small line of families waiting by the front. You realise it like a shock, that the three of you must look like a family too.

Eddie carries Junie with the surety of a dad that's carried his child a hundred times before; he strokes the back of her head with the affection of one, soothing the mess of flyaways she'd acquired by squirming in her car seat. Junie responds with familiarity, hands tucked into his hair and tugging. She's trying to be nice but his hair won't allow it, all his long curls tangled at the ends from a day at work.

Still, he says, "Thanks, baby. Make sure you get the back, okay?"

"Okay," she echoes.

You look down at your wringing hands. There's ink smudged up the side of your writing hand. You scratch at it half-heartedly, blinking against your fatigue.

You're exhausted tonight and it's only Wednesday. You can't imagine how you'll fare tomorrow considering how little sleep you're expecting tonight — there are a thousand things to do when you get home. Laundry to wash and press, cleaning to do, dinner to make.

You'd been writing cheques for due bills when Eddie had come knocking, well-dressed, stupid-handsome, and announced that tonight you would be accompanying him to the movies. He'd actually said 'accompanying'.

Despite a full agenda, you'd said yes. You're not very good at saying no. At least, not to him.

It takes you a moment to realise you're at the front of the line. You pay for the tickets before Eddie can try it, and with his hands full he can't really stop you. He whines about it all the way to the concession stand.

"You can buy the snacks," you say. His face lights up, and you amend, "If you're reasonable."

"I'm always reasonable…ly over the top," he says, chided by your hard stare.

"Yes, you are."

He follows you down the two steps to the concession and cuts in front of you. "How did you do that? What face was that? I felt my soul leave my body."

"That's my disapproving mom look. I'm disapproving."

"Ah." He pats Junie's side sympathetically.

She pulls her head from over his shoulder and smiles at you. Her arms vy for your hold. You steal her from Eddie and kiss her all over her tiny face, uplifted by how much she loves you, how happy she is to be in your arms.

"What snacks do you want? Do you eat popcorn with butter? Without?" Eddie asks, his newly emptied arms already posed thoughtfully, a hand under his chin as he thinks over his options.

The theatre has a huge array of jellies, an even bigger array of candy bars. There are more brands of soda than there are glasses in your kitchen cabinet.

You're daunted.

"Whatever you want," you say.

Eddie groans and tips his head back. "Don't play with me like this. Butter or no butter? It's an easy question."

"I don't know. Without?"

"You are so weird," he says happily.

You pout and pull Junie closer.

Standing at the side while he gathers concessions, too many things, you watch in awe as Eddie stacks it all against his chest with the sure confidence of someone who's done it before.

He grins at you from between two huge cups. "Are we ready?"

If you could, you'd leave him here in the foyer with his jumbo deluxe popcorn. As it stands, you like him too much to leave him behind. You juggle Junie and your bag to push open the doors for him outside of screen two.

"Thanks, babe," he says outside of screen two. You bite your lip, surprised by his easy tone.

You climb up the stairs and into your seats. You're high enough for Junie to sit in her own chair between you and Eddie and see the screen comfortably but she adamantly refuses, stretching out in your lap like an alley cat hungry for affection.

Eddie moves into the ragtag velvet seat beside you, a million things in his lap and at your feet. He's pretty enough under the theatre lights to dull the panging ache at the back of your head. "If she won't sit here, I will. I got you a lemonade, is that cool?"

If it weren't you'd hardly tell him.

"She's being extremely well-behaved," Eddie notes, an inkling of pride in his tone.

You could sucker punch him. Why does he do this to you?

"I know," you say with a shy smile, "it's suspicious, isn't it?"

"I don't know. If I were in your lap I might be well-behaved too." He raises his eyebrows, an over-exaggerated show of flirtatiousness.

You reach over the arm to take a handful of popcorn. Eyes on Junie, you offer her your stolen goods and say, "I've got two thighs."

"Don't tempt me."

Junie all but snatches the popcorn and tilts her head back. A kernel falls from her hand and disappears between the seats. You make a mental note to pick it up afterward, ears full of her chomping.

You'd worried she might be a little loud for the movies but there's a bunch of kids and none seem keen on keeping quiet, a cacophony of childish complaints to hide your conversation.

"Are babies supposed to eat popcorn?"

You freeze up. "Oh- I don't know," you say, turning Junie toward you so you can watch her swallow.

"I thought I read that somewhere, but-"

"No, I think you're right. Um…" Junie looks at you with obvious confusion. "Was that yummy?" you ask. You hide your concern with a strained bubbly attentiveness.

"I guess she's old enough."

Eddie's being very casual – it is casual. He's just thinking out loud. You know he's not criticising you. He never has, though sometimes you think he should.

It must show on your face anyhow that you're having a 'I'm a bad mom' crisis. A mean stroke of insecurity.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says suddenly, brows pinched, "it's alright. It was just a thought. And she had no problem eating it, I'm sure she's gonna be aces. Better than aces."

Junie climbs out of your lap and into his. He sets the popcorn on the floor to take her, and when her hands reach for his drink he holds the straw to her mouth. All the while his eyes move between her and you.

"Okay," you say, because you're being silly.

Junie is fine. Eddie was only saying something that's very well true. Babies aren't supposed to have popcorn, but June's not a baby, really. She knows how to chew properly. It's unlikely she'll choke.

Eddie has to keep his focus on her to avoid getting soaked – she barely knows how to use a straw and keeps trying to turn the cup upside down.

"Not like that, trouble. Right way up. You got it."

You pick at the loose stitching at the end of your shirt and have to change the subject before the embarrassment of it all swallows you. Such a small thing.

"Can I try one of these?" you ask, grabbing the first bag of candy you can find. They're a bag of Super Sour Suckers.

He looks at you over Junie's head, startled and hiding it poorly. Then, a smile so bright it increases the embarrassment you're feeling tenfold.

"You have to! Robin said they're even worse than the normal ones, I don't wanna go through that alone," he says urgently.

Robin is one of his friends. You're not jealous that he has friends (though you are, because you want your own, but not jealous that he has friends that aren't you). He's mentioned her in passing before. When you'd asked as bravely as you dared if they were anything more than friends he'd laughed maniacally.

"We're definitely just friends," he'd said.

You fight to stay smiling and pull open the bag of candies. Ironically, the jellies inside are shaped like pacifiers. Covered in sugar packed densely and looking almost wet with what you suspect to be citric acid, you shake the packet wearily and search for a candy that won't ruin your tongue.

Eddie holds out his hand. You drop a green one into his palm. Your fingertips ride up the curve of his thumb.

He's unflinching as he eats it. After a few seconds his eyes screw up and he clutches June tight to his chest, raising an unhelpful hand to his jaw.

"Holy sugar," he says, wincing.

You bite into a pink pacifier unfortunately layered in sugar and wait nervously for the sourness to kick in. Sure enough, it comes quick and torturous. It's a knife cutting through fog.

It's hard to feel tired when there's something this sour in your mouth.

"You can't spit it out!" Eddie says.

You stop with your hand halfway to your mouth. "What?" you ask incredulously, trying not to dribble.

"You gotta eat it! Chew and swallow!"

You chew miserably. He laughs at your expression – a warm and hyper sound, practically giggling. Junie joins in as she always does. His joy can't be overstated.

The lights go down while you're still fighting for your life. Your eyes water and you have to smother the taste with a quick drink and a gasping breath.

"You're sick. I can't believe you let me eat that," you whisper.

"You saw me eat mine! You knew what you were getting into… Think June wants one?"

Your outrage has him laughing again. It's a magnetic sound. Every time he does it you want to touch him, his arm one pole and your hand another.

Junie gets comfortable on his right leg, head tipped expectantly against his chest and eyes drawn to the screen as the trailers begin. You don't bother with jealousy; in ten minutes she'll be climbing over the arm to sit with you again, or want to sit in her own seat. She may even try to walk around. Toddlers are indecisive and easily distracted.

Even if she weren't. Even if she sat there in his lap for the next hour and a half and didn't look your way, you're not sure you could harbour any envy against him. His hand spreads over the front of her torso with fingers splayed against her ribs, stroking thoughtlessly through the fabric of her thick clothes.

He tips his head toward your chair. "There's nachos."

"I saw."

"Wanna eat some before they get cold?"

"Subtle."

He snorts. "Yep. That's what they call me. Eddie Subtle Munson."

You reach over the dark floor for the tray of nachos and balance them carefully on the armrest between your two seats. Eddie digs in without fuss, you fret over which ones have jalapeños on them, and Junie gets mad that nobody's sharing with her. She puts her hands straight in a mound of orange cheese. Her face is a picture when she brings it to her mouth. She's discovered molten gold.

"Junie," Eddie says lightly, carding hair away from her ear so she can hear him properly. "Don't get cheese on your pretty clothes. It took your mom a week to get the rocky road out of your strawberry jammies, you know?"

He doesn't care that she's mauled the food. He's worried she might stain her dungarees. Your heart goes crazy, another sudden surge of clarity.

Junie climbs back into your own lap as the movie begins. You whisper to her about proper theatre etiquette in your mommy voice and she doesn't do too bad a job at listening. She finds the appearance of the Great Mouse Detective himself quite funny, and laughs at his grave features and expressions every now and then. It's a golden sound.

Try as you might, you can't keep your eyes open. Junie's having such a good time and Eddie whispers funny commentary beside you, but eventually your eyelids creep shut and Eddie squeezes your arm, skin braceleted by his thick, warm fingers.

"C'mere," Eddie prompts, hands vying for your daughter where she's perched in your lap.

"Why?" Junie asks.

He's surprised at her inquisition. "You don't want a hug?"

She nods voraciously. Eddie lifts her off of your lap before she can use you as a climbing frame and into his own.

"I think mommy's sleeping," he tells her.

Junie looks at you curiously. You've got a wet wipe in your limp hand, which he takes and discards, and your head's fallen to one side. You'll have an awesome crick in your neck when you wake up.

Junie gives him a hug. He loves her hugs. They're so small and sweet, she's genuinely an extremely loving little girl. Her smile when she hugs people is beautiful as yours is, though her affection is less hesitant.

Everything's going well until she catches a look at the huge, scary bad guy Professor Ratigan somewhere in the middle.

Eddie's crunching through a greedy mouthful of popcorn and almost chokes as she turns around and hides in his chest. He brings a hand up to her back protectively though he doesn't know what happened, eyes moving between her and the screen at lightning speed.

"Aw, June," he murmurs sympathetically. He really is a scary looking guy.

"Eddie," she says, dangerously close to tears.

"Sweetheart, it's okay! He's only on TV."

She says something that might be, "Don't want." It's not quite there but Eddie thinks she's doing a great job lately with her talking, patting her back in a silent well done as he attempts to reassure her. "Basil's gonna outsmart him, Junie. The Great Mouse Detective is gonna save the day, scout's honour."

"No," she whines softly.

He covers her unhappy face with his hand.

"It's okay," he murmurs, melted and bemused. "It's okay, junebug. I swear."

Despite his best efforts, she starts to cry. Eddie freezes up because she doesn't cry often, not with him. When she does you're always there to find a solution. He supposes the novelty of being a new person has long worn off, and that he's going to have to make more of an effort than just tickling her or petting her hair to make it better.

Her volume increases. He shushes her, clumsy and awkward but earnest, trying the best that he can to make it up. He offers candies and drinks, he rummages through your baby bag for Mr. Bear. She takes it all but none of it lasts.

Someone in the chair behind him coughs pointedly.

Eddie turns to wake you up. He gets one good look at your face and can't follow through.

You're sleeping deeply, at the movie theatre of all places. How tired are you, and why hadn't you said? He'd known to some extent — it's why he'd offered to drive — but with the movie blaring and all the kids and noise and now Junie's crying, he realises you must be exhausted to sleep through it. Why hadn't he noticed? He kicks himself.

He lifts her up with his head angled down, giving your shoulder a swift squeeze and then bumping down the steps with Junie until he's out into the lights of the hallway. The door swings closed.

It's oddly quiet and extremely bright. Junie stops crying to blink, and starts to cry again once she's adjusted.

Eddie does not know what to do. It's a kick to his ego that he quickly accepts, though he does murmur a rueful, "Babe, I thought you liked me."

Lost on deaf ears, his comment hangs in the air.

He pats her back some more, wracking his brain for how you take care of her when she gets like this. Mostly, you're patient. You hum and you wait. Eddie tries to emulate you and your kind heart, walking her up and down the hall as he taps the bottom of her spine.

"It's okay," he repeats. The more he says it the easier it feels. It is okay. He has to find a way to help June understand that, is all.

She grizzles. It's a long process. A couple of times he wonders if he's in over his head, if it's even his place, if he should wake you up and admit defeat.

But Eddie Munson is trying to prove something.

He works Mr. Bear out of Junie's iron grip and pinches his back taut so that his face and arms wiggle when he wants them to.

"Baby June," he begins, in as gruff a voice as he can manage. He tries to channel his uncle's sternness, and his fondness. "Won't you quit crying? You're getting tears on the neck of your t-shirt and all over your cheeks."

Junie quietens. She still cries, but the severity of the situation noticeably shifts.

Eddie keeps on. "I got just the thing," he says, pushing Mr. Bear forward and making smacking sounds as he kisses both of her cheeks. "Gotta kiss these tears right off a'you."

She laughs as Mr. Bear kisses her face dry and laughs some more when Eddie kisses the top of her head.

Eddie loves Junie.

He knows it for a fact.

She's very easy to love. She's beautiful as you are, she's loving, she's sweet. Her laugh is adorable and her smile is more. When she cries, Eddie finds he's never annoyed. Grated by the repetitive sound, maybe, but he can't find it in himself to be mad with her ever. He wants to help her work through it. To get you both through it. Eddie wants to be good at this.

He has Mr. Bear kiss Junie all over her face.

"See?" Mr. Bear asks. "Isn't that better? No more tears, little girl, or we'll never see the end of the movie!"

As Eddie says it, he wonders if taking her back into the theatre is a good idea.

"Hey, junebug?" he says, all drama set aside.

Junie lifts her flushed face.

He smiles gratefully. "Do you wanna go back inside? Go check on mommy?" Leaving you by yourself doesn't exactly sit right with him.

Ah, there's the face he was expecting. Puzzlement, surprise. Junie frowns at him and looks over his shoulder, her own, searching the empty hallway for you and finding only reflective floor lights and patterned carpet.

Eddie starts back into the screen room before she can cry over your being missing, chatting quietly but in a way that commands her attention. He's effective in the art of distraction if nothing else.

The mouse detective and his friends have defeated Professor Ratigan, though Eddie shields Junie's head from the screen in case he's thinking about making a comeback, finding his way back to you in the dark. He picks over other people's snacks and then the abundance of your own, finding you still sound asleep. The sight doesn't spell good tidings.

"Here she is," Eddie tells Junie, "here's mom. You wanna give her a kiss?"

He sits down in his seat and squishes a bag of gummy worms under his boot. Junie immediately bends over the armrest and grabs at your front. You'd worried to him once that she had separation anxiety, and Eddie didn't know anything about it to agree or not. This display makes him think she might. She's clinging to you, desperately wanting your attention.

Eddie winces as she grabs your face. She's obviously not trying to be cruel, hand stroking over your cheek as you'd stroke hers.

"Mom," she whispers, the action itself enough to get Eddie laughing. Her version of whispering is almost like a character in a pantomime.

He doesn't laugh for very long. You're not easy to wake up. Junie squishes your cheek and tries again. "Mommy," she says.

You groan in your sleep and your eyes scrunch together. "What?" you murmur finally, voice scratchy.

"You're missing the movie," Eddie says, patting your thigh.

Your arms come to life before you do. You wrap them around Junie's short torso and encourage her up your chest until you can nose at the top of her head. You rub slow lines, a steady back and forth. Eddie would bet money you don't have a clue in the world where you are.

"S'loud," you complain. Your voice is weak with sleep.

Junie looks at Eddie weirdly. He suspects it's her way of asking him to help out without asking.

He tenses his hand where it rests at your thigh. "Do you wanna go home?"

You don't answer. You go limp under his touch and Junie's weight, nose and lips set in a frown but otherwise near languid.

Eddie's small (and alarmingly ever-present) worry for you multiplies by a hundred.

He grabs up a bag of chips and entices your daughter back onto his thigh. She digs through half the bag as the movie draws to a finish, distracted if not happy, her face and fingers swiftly flaked in corn dust. The lights are thrown up and the noise is immense, a hundred pairs of shoes over tipped popcorn, babies and young kids unsettled, their parents eager to head home and watch their own movies no doubt.

Eddie can't say he'd really watched the film besides precursory glances, his focus on you and your fidgety offspring. He'd been excited to tell you about his Junie success, but now he just wants to get you home.

He says your name as clearly as he can, his hand finding its way to your thigh for the third time. He rubs down toward your knee and gives your leg a shake.

Junie climbs off of his own. Now the lights are on she can see the grand assortment of snacks laid out before her, and she seems eager to try them all.

You eventually, thankfully rouse, you drag a palm over your eyes and cross your legs, squishing his hand in the process. He steals it back.

"Babe, you gotta get up. The attendants are looking at us funny. I think they think I've run you ragged, and while the dad tag doesn't bother me, 'cruel husband' doesn't suit me."

"What?" you ask.

He shrugs. "Junie pissed her pants."

Your eyes open, lashes parting clumsily. You move like the air around you has turned to glue and moan in a quiet display of agony as your neck clicks. "She leaked through?"

"Nah, I'm messing with you. Movie's done. Getting some weird stares."

You're quiet, but you shrug on your jacket and Eddie packs what he can of the leftover candy into your bag. He swings it over his shoulder.

"You wanna come up?" he asks Junie.

She raises both arms.

You stand on shaky legs. Eddie stations Junie on one hip with one arm wrapped around her and holds out the other. You let him fold you up into his side.

"You okay?" he asks.

Your face drops into his shoulder. "I'm so tired."

"You're alright to walk out to the car?"

His worry is like a rubber band. You snap to attention, disengage from his hold. It's a foreign and really uncomfortable feeling to see you out of sorts.

Eddie walks behind you with a hand nearly but not touching your back. If you topple, he's not sure how he's gonna save you. Determined anyways, he guards you down the hollow stairs and through the hallway, one step behind you.

It's a cool, crisp night outside.

The smell of rain sticks around. You lift your chin. It's much colder now that night's fallen. The breeze kisses your damp skin. When did you start sweating?

He presses his hand to your shoulders and guides you across the road.

Junie starts her lovely babbling in his ear. "Mouse 'tective," she says at one point. You don't react, affirming his theory: you're more than tired. You're sick.

"Mouse detective," he agrees, arm around your shoulder to assuage his own worries as he gives Junie the best of his attention. "You liked that one, huh?" Besides the evil Professor. "Better than the Muppets in New York? Junebug, you little traitor. How easily your favour changes."

"Are you surprised? She took to you like," — you yawn wide enough that Eddie feels it under his arm, a full body thing — "a duck to water."

He beams, relieved to hear your voice. "Yeah, well, I'm special."

"That's true."

Eddie walks you around to the passenger side and opens your door.

"Flirting! Awesome. You're not too sick to forget how much of a catch I am. Watch your head."

"I gotta do Junie's straps," you say.

"I think I can do it by now."

He's only sort of bluffing. It takes him much longer than it would've taken you. He celebrates his win by pinching her cheek lightly and then whacking his head hard on the roof of your car.

"Fuck," he mutters as he jogs around the hood, scrubbing at the back of his head.

You're staring at him as he opens the door.

He puts the baby bag in your lap and shoves the key in the ignition, trying not to buckle under the weight of your gaze. He cracks quicker than he should, hand paused in its action.

"What?"

"You tryna give yourself a concussion?"

"Kiss it better?"

You kiss the tip of your finger and touch it to his head. It's an instant healing potion.

Getting you both home is easy enough, it's the trying to leave that's hard. You collapse heavily into the couch, Junie drapes herself over your lap and begs for her clothes to be taken off. Your second wind has worn away to nothing, leaving you plainly exhausted.

Eddie can't go home, not until he knows you're alright.

He slinks into your bedroom and tries not to look around too much. It feels like an invasion of privacy despite having made it in here a couple of times, always with his hip to the door as you search for something. He fails spectacularly and straight away, always hungry to know more about you. These days especially.

Your bed looks like you shook out the duvet but never tucked the corners. Your pillow's on the floor, your thin throw blanket is screwed up in a ball. There's a bunch of Junie's stuffies against the headboard. He grins at their straight backs.

He makes for your wardrobe, a cheap bit of cherry wood with one sagging door. As much as he wants to outfit Junie in her goodwill band t-shirt, he pulls a soft pair of cotton pyjamas out from a neatly folded stack, thumbing the blue fabric fondly. There's a noticeable disparity between her clothes and yours. One work skirt and one work shirt hang from two lonely hangers, accompanied only by your infamous 'best jeans'. He frowns at a small stain at the knee and scratches it fruitlessly. Not her best jeans, he thinks in horror, picturing your unhappy face. He can see it so clearly, the pinching of your brows.

Junie squeals happily from the living room. Eddie remembers himself and follows the sound, finding you both on the ground. You're kneeling, blowing raspberries into Junie's naked stomach where she lays on her changing mat, a discarded diaper and her dirty clothes to the side.

There's a big break between raspberries where your eyes drift shut sluggishly. Junie whines for another.

Eddie sits next to you. Stupidly close, his crossed leg kisses your thigh. He could wrap you up in a hug easily right here, and he wants to. Your tired face has his stomach aching with guilt.

"Sweetheart," he says to you firmly, "get back on the couch. You look like you're gonna fall asleep right here."

You don't argue, leaving Eddie the impossible duty of dressing your baby. Junie hates the shirt more than he can describe, loathes the fabric as it covers her face. He has to pick her up to get her into her pants, another fury. She forgives him easily once he's done, lingering by his side with Mr. Bear in hand. She pinches his back and imitates Eddie's low growl, laughing at herself as she does. She finds it very funny. Eddie can't help giggling with her.

"Eddie?" you ask.

He turns. You look miserable.

"What?" he asks softly, startled by your intense expression.

"Thank you."

"Oh, baby," he says, loud and brash as he twists where he is to grab both of your knees. He practically throws himself at you, at your feet, ducking his cheek to your leg. "You really are sick as a dog."

You look visibly embarrassed.

"Listen," he says, insistent, "If we start saying thank you to each other, we won't stop. We'll be a loop of thank yous."

"I think I have more to say than you do," you murmur.

He shakes his head, exasperated at your inability to see him for what he is even now. It's funny. Eddie thinks you've a better view of him than anybody else, that you see him more generously than anyone has ever seen him, and you still haven't noticed he's a boy in love.

You must feel his grin as he kisses your knee, his thumb stroking over the ridge of the cap.

"If I started to say thanks for all the things you've given me I wouldn't stop. I'd talk myself hoarse," Eddie argues.

You laugh at his dungeon master dramatics, but reaffirm, "I haven't given you anything."

"You don't know what you've given me," he says into your leg.

Eddie lifts his head, weary of his chin digging into your leg.

Now isn't the best time to declare devotion, or drop kisses into you when you can't offer any in return. Not that he's expecting you to. Not that he wouldn't receive them gratefully.

"I should go home."

You reach for him. Your hand moves slowly like you've a weight around your wrist, but your fingertips curve over his cheek; you move from the corner of his lip, under his eye, and then finish your circle at the skin beneath his ear.

"Can you hug me?" you ask.

"Yeah," Eddie says. He doesn't waste any time.

He gets up, slides a knee between your knees and rests his full weight on the couch between them as his arms curve around you and his hands feel for the dip of your lower back. He clutches without any hesitation.

"Can I? Did you mean it like that? My arms work fine."

You curl your arms around him and groan. "You're gonna crush me."

"Really?" He pulls you closer. "How 'bout now?"

"Ow," you whine.

He laughs and pushes his face toward your ear. "Liar," he whispers. "No way that hurts."

"Why's everybody always on top of me?"

"That's your issue?" He pulls back. "You want to sit in my lap?"

"No!"

"Aw, my poor girl. You totally wanna sit in my lap. Alright, get in it."

He sits down beside you and waits, one arm still behind your back. He gives you an encouraging tug.

"I'm not sitting in your lap."

"I didn't think you would, just- Just c'mere," he prompts, pulling your face into his chest.

Your arms slide around his waist. He can feel the scratchy skin on your left index finger, a scar of a recent kitchen accident, against his hip where his shirt has ridden.

"You're really handsy. Has anyone told you that before?" Eddie asks, trying to cover the entirety of your back with his arms alone.

You push your face as far as it'll go into his chest. Eddie keeps you there, and soon a little body has found its way onto the couch next to you both, demanding to be included. Eddie quickly drags her in.

Long minutes of quiet hugs.

"Wish we could stay like this forever," you murmur.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere. If you were worried."

He massages over the slope of your shoulder, a tight looking muscle. You sigh inaudibly, a hot patch over his heart.

"I wasn't," you say.

Eddie thinks you might finally be on the same page.

You get really, really sick.

"On my days off!" you croak, the injustice too much to handle.

Eddie laughs from the end of your bed, a bandana tied around his face like a doctor from one of his awful horror movies, though the bandana is far from a clinical white. "That's exactly why you're still sick. Your body sensed the weekend."

Hadn't it? You'd been achy and awful on Friday and Benny had sent you home at lunch, citing a need to keep his patrons from infection. Which sucked, because you'd really wanted to stick around for the very beginning of the Friday night rush and get some payday tips. People are generous when they're high on the buzz of a forthcoming weekend, especially to over obsequious waitresses.

It had sucked worse when Junie came out of daycare in the best mood ever and demanded kisses. You'd had a headache the size of a tennis ball behind your eyes and didn't want to pass anything over, and the crushed look on her face had made you cry in the car on the way home.

Eddie dropped in particularly early that night with soup. "I had a feeling," he'd said.

And now here he is again the day after.

"At least one of us is enjoying this," you say.

"You think I'm enjoying this?" Eddie asks.

You give his precautionary outfit a once over. "Yes."

"This is just something I had lying around."

"Shut up! Shut up, no it wasn't!" You're voice cracks, giggly and giddy even with the spikes of pain to your tender head.

"It was. We did a campaign, I was a plague doctor-"

"That is in terrible taste."

"It was perfectly appropriate, thank you very much. You're determined to vilify me. Need to slow down with the cold medicine, I think."

You shriek as he tries to take the bottle. "No! No, please, my throat hurts."

He takes the bottle. It is a hurtful defeat. You curl your fingers around nothing and sulk, slouching down into a sanctuary of pillows and blankets to hide from him. Extra pillows provided by Eddie. With fresh covers, duh. They smell like him anyway. You turn your nose into it indulgently.

"You've had too much to safely be responsible for any further consumption."

"Further consumption," you echo, eyes closing in defeat as he leaves.

"You okay, June?" you hear him ask, voice occluded partially by the sound of the TV.

"Okay, Eddie?" she asks.

You grin to yourself.

"I'm great. This looks very fun. I'm gonna make mom a cold pack for her head and then you can help me make dinner, okay? Does that sound fun? Tell me, June."

The 'Tell me, June,' isn't a command so much as a gentle reminder that she can answer the question if she wants to.

"Fun," she says.

"Hey, great. Oh, thank you. Thank you."

They better not be cuddling without me, you think bitterly, grin swiftly replaced by a self-pitying frown.

You cough into your hand, roil in your own misery for a second and then grab the big glass of water Eddie had insisted on from the night stand. You tip it down yourself in your hurry.

"Missed your mouth," Eddie says, appearing at exactly the wrong moment.

"Don't baby me."

He pads into the room with a cold pack wrapped in a hand towel. "For your head."

"This is silly. I don't need to be in bed."

"Obviously you do. You're sick, did you notice? Stupid question," he adds regretfully, gesturing for you to lie back. He sets the pack to your forehead. "You wouldn't notice a hole in your stomach. You'd be dripping entrails in the freezer aisle wondering if Junie wants corn on the cob or mashed potato with dinner tonight."

"What does she want for dinner tonight?"

"Boo! Exactly my point."

"I'm gonna go ask her-"

Eddie puts an unapologetic hand in the middle of your chest and pushes down. "You will do no such thing." He lowers his face to yours. "I'm willing to get physical. So behave."

You flush with heat because you're sick and not because he says it a certain way, dropping back down into your fluffed pillows without another word.

Eddie's hand climbs up to your collar, your neck. His fingers slide one after another behind it. It's a blessed cold. You can't find a comfortable temperature today, moving between chills and hot flashes at the drop of a hat.

Or a bandana. Eddie unties the dark fabric from his neck and leaves it where it lands, staring at you without saying anything.

His thumb presses into your sore throat carefully, the barest hint of pressure, and his lips part. He doesn't say anything for a while. It looks like he wants to.

"Do me a favour?" he asks finally.

"Of course." Anything to feel useful right now.

"Take it easy." He again lowers his head, talking to you with a private smile. "The sooner you chill out, the sooner you'll beat this thing."

"Don't say that. Like I have something serious."

"The sooner you'll beat this moderate-"

"Mild-"

"-affliction." He strokes quarter-circles into your neck.

"I don't need to lie down. There's things I have to do."

"On a Saturday?"

"Yes. There's things I need to do everyday." You clear your throat. It's useless, the lump remains and your voice stays scratchy. "I have- I always have laundry. So that first. Gotta wash it and put it out and bring it in and press it. I gotta make sure Junie has lunch for daycare this week 'n if she doesn't I have to go get it, I gotta," — you cover his hand with your own thoughtlessly — "make sure her rash is getting better. And I promised we'd do a tea party tomorrow, I have to make sandwiches!"

"We both know she doesn't remember the tea party."

"I promised."

"And if I… If I tried to get all those things done, would you stay in bed?"

"You can't."

"But if I tried it? I can do laundry. I'm good at it. Get oil stains out of Wayne's coveralls every Sunday."

You slump into a lump of sadness and achy arms. "Don't do my laundry. Don't do any of that stuff. I'll punch you if you do."

Eddie bursts into laughter. "You'll punch me? You horrible woman."

"I will," you promise, fingers curling around his arm to hold him in place.

"Why don't I believe you?"

"I don't know. 'Cos you're a know-it-all who dislikes me."

"I far from dislike you." He grins at you, all dimpled and pretty. "I don't believe you'd hit me because I know you, idiot."

"Name-calling."

"Uh-huh. Are you sleeping or am I helping you out onto the couch?"

While you're happy for the compromise, you have one problem. "I don't think I can move."

Eddie lets his face fall amicably to your collar. "No, I bet you can't. More reason for me to get you on the couch. I think you've genuinely had too much cough syrup," he worries, warm breath fanning over your skin.

You bring your spare hand to his head. He has so many curls.

He lifts his head and you're close enough to kiss. There's no other reason anyone has ever been this close.

"I can see your beauty mark," you say, hushed. You don't wanna breathe on him too much.

"Freckle."

"Your freckle." You lift and drop his curls, fingers toying through the softness towards his roots, the frizz at the ends.

"You- You smell like fucking cherry syrup."

You abandon his hair to clap a hand over your mouth. "I'm sorry."

He covers his own mouth. "It's okay," he says, similarly muffled. "I like the sweet stuff."

What the fuck does that mean? Your stomach doesn't flip — it leaps right up into your throat. "You're an idiot," you breathe, caught off guard.

"What was that?" he asks, taking away his hand. "Didn't catch it."

"I said, 'You're an-"

"Amazing friend and confidante?"

You try to talk and he says, "A real stand-up guy?"

You try again and he says, "A total rockstar? Baby, if you really think all this you should've said."

You flop completely onto your back, away from his hands, his jokes and his lovely brown eyes where they bore into your own. Eddie hums and rubs brashly over the top of your arm until the skin glows with heat.

"Please stay in bed," Eddie says as he stands.

Medicine or his touch, you're feeling pretty tired. You pull up your blankets and sink like a stone, head disappearing into a mess of pillows and throws.

It's much later when you wake. You move into the land of the living abrupt as whiplash.

Eddie seems very sorry. "Sweetheart, June's past due for a new diaper, and I-"

"Oh, right," you say, sounding much more alert than you feel. You're a girl made of sandpaper.

"I would've, I mean. If it wouldn't make you uncomfortable, I would've tried. But I've never changed a diaper in my life."

You scratch your flaky eyes, disorientated and head like a boiling saucepan with the lid glued on.

"That's okay," you say. Your voice refuses to cooperate with you, gruff and too quiet. "It wouldn't bother me, but it's also not your job, so… Um." You yawn wide and cover your entire face.

You spend a minute rubbing your eyes.

"Fuck, what time's it?" you ask, squinting at him and bringing your hands to either side of your face.

"Like, seven. Ish."

"Eddie…"

"I know. I thought you could use the rest. I knew you could. And it's not urgent, you know? Come around, first. Everything's stellar."

You peel back the sheets. You're a clammy, too-hot mess with weak legs.

Eddie sees you wobble and rushes to wrap an arm around your waist. Completely unnecessarily, heart-achingly kind. You wince at the dampness of your shirt under his touch.

Junie sits on the couch in her jammies with a yellow-green soup stain down the front. She's propped up like a princess, a pillow behind her head between the armrest and her blanket covering her legs, cheek pressed to the cushions. Eyes trained on the TV and her bottle propped in a slackening grip, your baby is peaceful, near luxurious.

Only a little wiggle might suggest she's uncomfortable.

You part from Eddie's side and sit down beside her, the seat warm. She doesn't even look up.

"What, no hi for mom?" you ask tenderly, hand falling to the top of her head. She's lovely.

She gasps, little lungs fit to burst. It's pure excitement, her bottle dislodged and the blanket pushed away immediately. She doesn't bother getting to her feet, throwing herself into your lap and assuming you'll do the rest. Of course you will. You pull her up and kiss the top of her head, though you quickly hold her at arm's length.

"Sorry, mommy's still sick," you tell her, sympathetic at her crushed expression.

"Mis'd," she says.

"Yeah? You missed me?" you ask hopefully.

Her lips part in comprehension. "Missed you," she confirms.

You throw your gaze over your shoulder to Eddie. He stands by Junie's changing station with a smug smile. "What?"

"You're not very convincing."

"I'm not trying to convince you, thanks," he says, holding up two hands in surrender.

"She didn't learn that herself," you argue.

"She might've. You tell her enough."

You go back to your girl, pleased at her own smug smile. "I missed you, too, I missed you so much. Missed you millions. Sorry I've been sleeping all day, you've been such a good girl. She has, hasn't she?"

Eddie sorts through a nearly empty bag of diapers and brandishes one with fish printed on the back. "Oh, yeah. Junebug's been amazing. She came in with me to see you earlier, took your temperature." You frown. "From a distance. Kind of. I held her above you. It was… acrobatic."

You close your eyes at his absurdity, your laugh prompting another spike of pain.

Junie forces herself closer and gets both arms around your neck.

You sag into the contact, defeated. "Aw, June," you mumble ruefully. "M'trying to make sure you don't get sick too. Wasting my time."

"Mommy," she says into your neck.

"That's me."

You know she has something she wants to say. You can't wait for the days where she can. Exciting, to think that one day she'll be able to share all of her thoughts.

Right now, she's probably thinking, Woah, mom, you smell weird. And you look weirder.

You feel her back with your hand and cringe. Definitely time to get her changed.

Afterward, you sit with your back to the open front door on one of the porch steps. Physical exertion of any kind seems to be inadvisable; you're sweating up a storm. Junie sits beside you at her own insistence, her hand clasped in your hand and her head on your arm. You look down at her thighs next to your own and marvel at their small size. The evening breeze is a blessing.

Eddie stands in front of you with his backpack slung over his shoulder and a checklist.

"Tea party sandwiches are badly made and saran wrapped in the fridge. Junie doesn't have lunch for Monday but I can go tomorrow if you want me to. Her clothes are folded in the hamper. Uh, some stuff got left out, you might need to press them. Not tonight though, please."

"Thank you."

He talks around a smile. "Soup's on the stove. I'll come back later, if-"

"You don't have to."

"I want to. I wouldn't actually leave, but-"

"Eddie-" You cough into your shoulder. He waits for you to finish. "You- You didn't have to take care of me."

"What does that mean? Of course I did."

He hikes his backpack higher up his shoulder and pads back up the steps, not all of them but enough for him to lean down and stare at Junie.

"Thanks for the best day ever," he says seriously, looking out of the corner of his eye at you. "Almost. See you later?"

Junie nods voraciously and reaches up with her empty hand. Eddie takes it and kisses her temple. He does the same to you, lips brushing soft as downy-feather over your skin.

"I'll come back around ten? Is that cool?"

"Don't knock too loudly," you mumble, very aware of his proximity.

He backs up and bows like an idiot, hand moving in circles.

You and Junie wave him off.

"To work?" Junie asks.

Your eyebrows jump as you pull your gaze from his retreating figure. "Huh?"

"To work?"

You play with her fingers. "No, he's not going to work. He's going to take care of someone else, now."

Wayne, Eddie said, in a fondly exasperated tone that explained everything you needed to know. His uncle's self-preservation must come in similar disinterest to himself as yours does to you.

"We'll see him tomorrow," you say. It's not even a lie, you will both see him tomorrow.

But apparently he's coming back tonight.

True to his word, Eddie Munson knocks your door carefully at nearing ten o'clock.

Wayne's dismissal chases his heels. He'd spent an hour worrying about you at the dinner table with his uncle, fingers curling anxiously in his hair.

Wayne had been talking about some gab the boys in the shop had heard about killer mice or killer lice or something when he'd suddenly cleared his throat and snapped Eddie to attention.

"You're a good kid. Notice how I said good, and not smart," Wayne had said.

"Gee, thanks. You always did know how to make a guy feel loved, Wayne."

"You don't wanna be here."

Eddie had frowned. "Obviously I do."

"Kid, what I mean is, you gotta," — he'd nodded his head hard to one side and raised his eyebrows — "you know."

"Haven't brushed up on my mysterious gestures lately. Translate that one for me?"

Wayne had flicked up his newspaper and sighed. "Don't be dumb."

"You keep saying that."

"You keep being dumb, boy."

"I don't know what you want me to do."

"Think you better go look after your girl, don't you?" Wayne had asked finally, clearing his throat.

So here he is to look after you. A tad early, worried you'll be sleeping on the couch with a misbehaving baby in your lap or passed out in the bathroom after an impromptu cleaning.

Thankfully, you open the door in different clothes than he'd left you in, the neckline dark with run-off and face damp under your eyes and by your ears. You dab at your tacky skin with your index knuckle.

"You look better," he says. He wishes he could take it back instantly, though you don't take any offence.

"Hot shower," you explain.

You step back to let him in. Eddie closes the door behind him without turning, eyes glued to your fresh face. He's depressed by the lingering fatigue he finds lining your darling features.

"You okay?" you ask him, perturbed by his silence.

Eddie's better than okay.

He steps close. You look like you might step back, make room for him he doesn't want, so he reaches out for your face and holds it in one hand, the other landing in tandem on your arm.

Your cheek lists into his hand as he wipes away what's left of the dampness on your face. He's not sure you know you're doing it.

"Did you take any more medicine?" he asks quietly, rubbing under your eye carefully with the tip of his thumb.

"No, I- I think you fixed me, Munson. Me and Junie had your soup, and after a shower I felt way better. It was really nice. She slept easy."

He presses the back of his hand to your forehead. "You don't feel too hot."

"Like I said. Fixed me. My hero."

He looks over your shoulder at your life — at his life, or at least where a majority of it seems to take place. All his favourite parts these days happen right there on your couch, or at that table, or knee to knee with a baby that isn't his but- but-

"You said that to me the first time we met," Eddie recalls, shaking his head. It's like there's water in his ears. A few strands of hair drift into his eyes.

You catch his elbows in both hands. "It feels like a really long time ago now."

Months. Only months. "I feel like I've known you for years."

He strokes over your face, chin to cheek, the tip of his thumb pressed to the corner of your mouth.

"That's how I feel, too," you whisper. Utter. Hushed, your words ring loud anyway. "You're my best friend."

Eddie doesn't take it for a door closing because it isn't. It's a door kicked wide open. Split on its hinges. You and Eddie stand on equal ground, and, for once, the same page.

"You know I don't mind taking care of you?" he asks, hand passing over your ear to hide behind it. He wants to see all of your face.

Predictably, you drop your eyes to his neck, pupils wobbling as you search for somewhere to plant yourself. "I know. I'm not sure I deserve it."

"Why wouldn't you deserve it? Everyone deserves taking care of."

"Even murderers?"

"Maybe not murderers-"

"The evil guys from your game? Necromancers?"

"They're not all evil." His left palm skirts up the curve of your neck, encouraging your face back to his. "Don't change the subject."

You press your lips together, caught.

"I actually…" — he gathers as much bravery as he has — "want to take care of you."

"You do."

He holds your face in both hands. "You know you- You know you started it, right? You know it's- that without your-" He cringes internally at his stammering, but he has to get this part right. "You have gold where your heart should be."

"Y/N The Golden Hearted. Doesn't have the best ring to it," you muse, hands clinging to the crooks of his elbows like twin pooled teardrops waiting to fall.

Eddie stares at you, floored.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" he asks.

"What's your name?" you demand, grinning.

"Eddie the Subtle. Munson the Mad."

You huff a laugh. "That's a cop-out."

"Maybe."

"How about…" The air feels thick as jelly. Light from under the bedroom door stops short of your legs, your toes almost touching. His rubber soles, your socks. "Eddie the Indomitable?"

He crinkles his nose. "I'd almost think you were trying to flirt with me, that's how bad that is."

Your blinks are slow. Your eyes soften.

"What if I was?" you ask.

A stock-still silence pervades, filled only by the hum of the refrigerator and the droning of the bathroom light, left on. He could tell you the contents of this room by its sounds alone.

His hand moves of its own accord, up and down the slope of your neck. "I'd say you needed a better pick up line."

"Like what?" you ask, chest rising too fast.

Eddie takes a step and feels his jacket zipper cut into the cotton of your shirt. It's your matching band t-shirt.

Eddie drags his gaze slowly to your widened eyes, your lashes as they move almost imperceptibly upward. Taking him in as he inches closer.

"You're so fucking pretty," he says.

He leans in. He closes the gap. Eddie Munson takes the leap.

Your hand comes quickly to his upper arm and you turn your face just enough to force his lips, his kiss landing a centimetre shy of your nose.

He struggles to keep his eyes closed. His heart thrums like a blown amp.

"You can't kiss me," you say. Eddie struggles to discern your tone.

His nose presses to yours. Not desperately, but almost. "I can't?" he asks, throat thick with emotion, a stickying, cloying taffy.

"I'll make you sick."

He turns your face with his palm, lips hovering above yours, a hair's width. Close enough to feel their heat.

"Can I trust you'll nurse me back to health, in the event that that happens?" Would you take care of me? His hands tremble where they're touching you. He's too scared to open his eyes.

You don't answer.

You cover his hands and the seconds stretch endlessly, a thousand moments of terror and pining and want suddenly flattened into one as you kiss him.

He exhales against you. His relief is a palpable, viscous thing as he pulls you in and his nose digs into yours. Lips soft as he'd imagined, as he'd known they'd be, you kiss back tentatively. Sweetly.

You're kissing him like he's something that needs a careful touch.

Eddie screws his eyes shut tight enough to see stars, firecrackers, a shattering bouquet of colours as you move beneath him. He can't believe he's kissing you. He can't believe there was a time where he wasn't.

He yields, leaning back just enough to see your face. You keep your eyes shut, your eyelashes kissing the delicate skin beneath. They move like blades of grass in the breeze as Eddie tries to catch his breath, regaining some of his composure. It's hard while he's here, this close.

You make a small sound, a breath like a barb. The shaky demarcation of tears.

"Okay?" he asks, more movement than sound. His lips skip over your own.

You have to feel it.

A laugh bubbles up through your parted lips like a hiccup. "I'm definitely gonna make you sick," you mumble regretfully.

"Make me sick, sweetheart," he says, begs. Whatever.

Whatever word you want to use. He doesn't care if he pays for it afterwards, he wants to be close to you now, unapologetically close. And kissing you — kissing you like this, your reciprocation, it's everything because it means you feel the same as he does.

Or a fraction the same. He's reassured either way. If you felt a fraction of what he felt, that's enough.

It's a lot. To be touching you, finally. He grabs at the nape of your neck and kisses, kisses, kisses. He goes slowly, not quite sweetly. He's never been as sweet as you have, never as soft or patient.

It doesn't feel like it matters.

You pull his hands from your face, press his and your own, all four hands to the collar of your shirt.

"It wasn't just a, uh, pick up line, was it?" you ask breathlessly.

"Wh- No." Eddie massages the back of your hands. "No, you're the fucking prettiest girl ever. I think you're aces. Killer. Everything."

"Everything," you say, an almost indecipherable glassiness to your eyes.

"Everything," he says. He spreads his hand over your heart.

You don't throw yourself at him, but you move alarmingly quickly. Arms over his shoulders, hands crossed and buried in his hair. Your laugh is magic, a bright and exuberant sound loud in his ear and then the skin underneath. He's barely got an arm around the small of your back when you start to kiss him, repetitive, chaste pecks over his pulse. It capers under your lips.

"I don't know what kind of girl you think I am-" He begins deadpan and breaks abruptly, your second wave of laughter impossible to ignore.

Your arms tighten at his laughing, palm cupping the back of his head.

"You're my best friend, too," he says. "But you knew that."

"Maybe," you murmur, your smile wide against his skin. You're uncharacteristically mischievous.

He lets his back bend under your weight until your heels lift and you're scrabbling to stay on your own two feet and is rewarded by your shrieking laughter.

Oh, god, he thinks, ecstatic.

"Wait," you say, bargaining for freedom as he squeezes you hard enough to make you laugh again, and again, "wait, wait! Wait, let go. I have something to tell you."

Eddie sets you down. He's reluctant to let you go, almost desperate to hug you now that he knows he can, but his curiosity gets the better of him. What could you have to tell him now that isn't confessional? It's like being promised something good.

You stand sure and sweet in front of him.

"It's…" You look shyly at his lips.

"What?"

"I…"

He shakes his head gently from side to side. "What? Tell me."

"Nothing," you say, beaming. Act dropped, you take his face into both hands and kiss him soundly.

Eddie's barely got his hands on you before you're pulling back.

"Just wanted to do that," you say.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist | this fic is multi-chapter

if you enjoyed (i I really hope you did), please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things 4 #mom!reader #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #fem!reader #stranger things fanfiction #reader insert #Single mom!reader

10K notes · View notes

deathbecomesthem · 6 months ago

Text

Exile in Guyville Masterlist

moodboard contributed by @idkidknemore

Playlist

Read it on AO3

Record shop Eddie Munson x AFAB Reader

*Disclaimer* This story is written in second-person POV for reader immersion. I am labeling it an Eddie Munson x Reader fic. Reader is a unique character. They have a shaved head, are physically disabled - sometimes walking with a limp -, tattoos, and piercings. They have a backstory. If you are not interested in a fic written in that way, simply do not read it. Both Eddie and reader are bisexual. Reader is physically disabled and has PTSD. Eddie is bisexual, has PTSD, and chronic pain.

Series Summary:

It's 1995 and Eddie is still looking for a home. His nomadic lifestyle as a studio musician for hire has become lonely as he watches his friends move on and start families of their own. The loss of Wayne, and the relationship he forms with an old rocker brings him to a college town where he meets you. Is there room in your life for him?

Warnings:

This series includes smut, angst, and fluff. There is a stalker in this story (neither Eddie or the reader are the stalker). There are many adult themes, including discussion about parental drug addiction. This series includes Steddie, but not in the present for our characters - we will be spending time in Eddie's past relationships.

Chapters drop schedule:

One - Mesmerizing - 5/19

Two - Glory - 5/26

Three - Shatter - 6/2

Four - Flower - 6/9

Five - Ronance Interlude - 6/18

Six - Gunshy - 6/23

Seven - Dance of the Seven Veils - 6/30

The Exes:

Sarah - Exactly 6 months

Jessica - 18 months

Stephanie - 90 days

Charlie - 12.5 months

Steve - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Self Insert Commissioned Art

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x afab!reader #stranger things au #tw stalking

95 notes · View notes

maladaptivewriting86 · 7 months ago

Text

Welcome Home - September Ch1

Eddie Munson x Reader, friends to lovers, slow burn

Also posted on ao3! This is part 1!

Summary: Reader has moved to a new city/state every few months since she was born. She shows up to Hawkins in '85 having to repeat her senior year after learning nothing last year due to changing schools 3 times.

Eddie is repeating his senior year as well, lucky for him. He meets reader in class two weeks into the year and is immediately drawn to her due to her I-don't-care attitude and her Metallica t-shirt.

The two hang out often, studying, drinking, smoking, and healing their respective traumas. But how long does reader have before her dad announces that they're packing up and leaving Hawkins forever, leaving Eddie and the new friends she's made behind forever?

Reader uses she/her pronouns but is non-binary. The term didn't exist in the 80s so she describes it as "I'm only vaguely a girl, you shouldn't really think of me as one."

Reader is AFAB, there will be references to anatomy (smut), but for the most part, she's not really "girly".

AU, the upside down doesn't exist, Eleven and Will aren't mentioned (sorry).

CW for this chapter: mentions of parents with substance abuse issues

AN: This is absolutely just self-insert for me but I really like it and maybe it will be relatable to a small number of people or just entertaining, I don't know. But thanks for reading either way!

I'm planning on each chapter being somewhere between a day to a week of in-story time. Some might be super long and others kinda short, I'm not sure. This is my very first work that I've ever written so I have no idea how its going to work. Each month will have its own chapters (all contained here in this one work) and the story will just kinda flow through the months that reader is in Hawkins. Bear with me, this all might change at some point haha. I have a lot of ideas though as this is literally just my maladaptive daydreams put to paper. Eddie makes my brain melt. Enjoy!

Walking out of the school office with your class schedule in your hand you sigh, taking in the new surroundings once again. This is the eighth high school you've been to in the past four years, and the second time you've been a senior in one of them. After moving three times last year and missing so much of your first senior year, you had to start from scratch in a new school, Hawkins High. Pretty boring to name a school after the city, but you've seen it done so many times that you don't give a shit anymore. Just as long as this is your last one.

The receptionist in the office had pointed you in the direction of your assigned locker and handed you a sticky note with the combination on it. Memorizing the numbers on the gross-yellow paper, you head in the direction she told you to go. 982, 983, 984, 985... 986. That was yours. You stop in front of it and rest your head on the door as you look down and turn the lock in the correct order. You had no faith that this year would be your last, you already accepted that if you couldn't finish high school on your second attempt, then you would just drop out and figure out what to do after that. School is fucking tiring.

The bell rang to signal change of classes and students began to flood the hall. Already missed the first period and study hall, off to a great start. As you pop the lock open and step back a little to open the door, a solid body slams into your side and a book goes sliding down the corridor.

"Hey, watch it freak!" The body yells at you.

You turn to look at who just walked into you. It was a girl with platinum blonde hair in a super high ponytail; a cheerleader uniform; and her tits on full display, absolutely breaking the dress code.

"Sorry, didn't realize you liked to walk with your eyes closed." You grumbled as you rolled your eyes and turned back to your locker, beginning to unload your binders from your bag. She walked into you , that was definitely not your fault.

"What?" She snapped. She took a few steps to the side so that she was right next to you continuing to stare at the side of your face, and at your Metallica shirt, and your ripped black jeans, and dirty shoes. She instantly clocked you as someone who was beneath her so she narrowed her eyes and gave a sickening smile. "Ohhhh... great, another freak to join the freakshow. Just watch yourself okay? And don't get dirt on my uniform." She accented the last line by wiping down the front of her skirt with her hands aggressively a few times before stepping away and bounding down the corridor with her group of friends who looked identical to her, ponytails swishing in unison as they walked. One of them stopped to pick up the book that was dropped and handed it back to who you assume was their leader. All five of them turned to sneer at you before continuing on their way.

"I fucking hate cheerleaders." You thought to yourself as you closed your locker and looked at your schedule again. Your second class was English. An easy enough class, after a bit of a rough start in the hall.

As you entered your classroom you made your way to the desk at the front where the teacher was sitting.

"Hi, I'm y/n. I'm new, I just moved here yesterday and I was told to introduce myself to my teachers when I got to class so... hi." You said quietly to your new English teacher.

"Well hi! I'm Ms. Davies, it's nice to meet you. I'll write your name into the class list. Can I see your schedule?" She seemed way too smiley and chipper for your liking, but at least she didn't seem like she was going to be a hard-ass.

You handed her your schedule and she nodded and confirmed that you were in the right class. She copied your name down on her attendance list and then stood up, handing back your schedule.

"Please don't-" before you could ask her not to, she began announcing your name and welcoming you to the class.

"We have a new student today! Y/fn. Everyone please be kind, she'll be a little bit behind as we've already gotten through two weeks of curriculum but I'm sure she'll catch up quickly!" Smiling, probably very proud of herself for embarrassing you, she turned to you and pointed to an empty pair of seats at the back of the class. "You can take a seat back there... I would say 'next to Mister Munson' but it seems that he won't be joining us again-" just as she said that, a boy with long, curly, brown hair, a denim jacket adorned with pins and patches, ripped jeans, and absolutely no school supplies walked into the class. "Well, never mind. Here he is." She said, a little surprised by this guy's sudden appearance.

Keeping your head down to avoid the stares that you were most certainly receiving, you made your way to the back of the class and sat down in one of the seats Ms. Davies had pointed to.

The long haired boy's eyes hadn't left you since he walked through the door. He also made his way to his seat and sat down just slightly after you. "Metallica fan eh?" He said, nodding to the t-shirt you were wearing.

"Yeah." You said, a little more blunt than you meant for it to sound. "One of my favorites." You added, noting that most of the decor on his vest were metal bands.

"You've got good taste." He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, clearly not intending to pay attention to the class.

"Thank you." You said, honestly. "You seem to as well," pointing at one of his pins, you said "Judas Priest is pretty good too."

The boy beamed. He was honestly really cute, especially when he smiled and his dimples were on full display. He squeezed his crossed arms tighter and wiggled a little, obviously a little giddy, and leaned over to you a bit "I like you. I think I'm going to annoy you for the rest of the year." He said with a sort-of-joking-sort-of-not tone.

You let out a soft laugh and smiled back at him. "Sounds good." You replied, somewhat sarcastically, though you also weren't going to say no to gaining a friend immediately. Especially one who seemed to have the same taste as you.

He extended one of his hands toward you, intending for you to shake it. "My name��s Eddie." He introduced himself smoothly, his name sounded so royal leaving his tongue.

"I'm y/n." You replied, shaking his hand gently. His fingertips were a little rough, he probably played guitar. "I guess you missed when my name was announced to the world by Ms. Davies up there." You let go of his hand and gestured lightly up to the front of the room where Ms. Davies was writing something on the board. Something you're already not learning.

"I did miss that, unfortunately. I'm sure it wasn’t embarrassing at all and everyone was all 'hi y/n! Welcome to Hawkins High! We hope you have a wonderful time here! Go Tigers!'" He raised the pitch of his voice when he imitated the students, making you laugh a little harder than before.

"That's absolutely horrifying! You make them sound like a cult! I'm glad they didn't say that to me, I think I would've walked right out the door and never came back!"

"I think anyone would!" He chuckled. He looked very pleased with himself that he made you laugh as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed again, but still smiling wide.

As the two of you settled into comfortable silence, you took your notebook out of your bag and attempted to take notes on… MooBath ? With the fantastic mixture of Ms. Davies’ terrible writing, your terrible eyesight, and your lack of glasses, the board at the front of the room was nearly unreadable from where you were sitting. Squinting your eyes and leaning forward you could make out that it was actually MacBeth that she was teaching, not something a cow would say while getting cleaned.

“Forgot your glasses at home?” Eddie asked softly.

“No, I don't have any. Can't afford them.” You said simply, trying not to make a big deal over the fact that your parents didn't care enough about you to spend less money on their addictions so they could actually take care of their child.

“Oh. Well that sucks. You should sit closer to the front then.” He said, like it wasn't the most obvious solution.

You laughed lightly, “I would've but this was the only seat open and I doubt anyone would be kind enough to move just for me.” You looked back at him, he looked very comfortable leaning back in his chair, his eyes still fixed on you.

“Don't ask ‘em then. Just sit. We don't have assigned seating so you can sit wherever you want.” He shrugged and leaned forward, putting his crossed arms on the desk. “Plus it would be fun to see the cheerleaders whine about not getting their way.” A somewhat devious smile spread across his face.

“We'll see.” You said with a small smile, turning your attention back to the teacher. You decided that after missing the first half of the lesson you should at least try to take notes from just her voice alone. It was a struggle, she talked very fast and went on plenty of tangents that didn't have much to do with the subject matter. By the end of the class, you had about a page and a half of notes that you were only 60% confident in being correct and a bit of a headache from squinting at the board.

The bell finally rang while Ms. Davies was mid-sentence. It startled her a bit but she dismissed you all and wished everyone a good rest of the day. On to lunch!

As you packed up your things and exited the classroom, Eddie stuck right by you chattering away. “Hey you should come sit with me and my friends for lunch! You'll fit right in! They're metal fans too!” He seemed to have a ton more energy than he did in class for some reason, or maybe he was quiet on purpose so that you could try to take notes.

Stopping at your locker to exchange your books for your lunch, you smiled at him “Okay, I'd love to.” Why not? Worst that could happen is they hate you and you spend your time at another school completely alone. Best case? You gain some friends for a bit, until you have to pack up and move to another town in a month or two.

You could feel that Eddie was practically vibrating as he led you to the cafeteria, eager to introduce you to his friends. He kept his hand on your shoulder like he was afraid you'd run away or get lost on the short journey. Approaching the long lunch table he waved his hand toward a few younger boys on the left, probably freshmen or juniors, and ordered them to “Scoot!”. They looked at him like he asked them to sacrifice themselves. “I said scoot!” He repeated, now using both hands to usher them all down one seat.

“Well, you don't have to-” you tried to stop the disruption of their natural seating but Eddie just waved at you stating “They're fine. Have a seat!” He beamed once again when you took your seat, every single boy at the table staring at you like you'd just appeared out of thin air.

“Friends, this is y/n.” Eddie gestured to you like he was unveiling a masterpiece at a museum. The rest of the table greeted you with tentative “Hi.”s. One guy in a leather jacket, on the opposite side of the table asked “You managed to bring a girl to our table? How'd you do that man?”

You chuckled a little “Well, I'm only vaguely a girl, you shouldn't really think of me as one if that makes you more comfortable. You can call me whatever you want, honestly. I’ve heard it all. But I wouldn't be caught dead hanging out with cheerleaders and doing my makeup and giggling and shit. I'm not into all that girly stuff. But uh… anyway… hi.” You gave a little wave and looked at everyone around the table. Most of the older guys looked similar to Eddie in terms of clothing style. They looked pretty metal and some of them had jackets like Eddie. The younger boys were a little more toned down but they seemed to fit in really well with the general vibe of the table.

Eddie smiled at you as he pulled up a chair and sat at the head of the table, like a king, you thought. “y/n here, is a new kid. Just moved in from…” He looked to you to finish his sentence for him.

“I don't even know, I only lived there for three months. Somewhere in south Indiana. Started with a B I think?” you shrugged. You genuinely couldn't remember the name, and the city itself was already a blur in your memory, as with most of the cities you've lived in.

“Bloomington?” one of the boys to your left asked. He had very curly hair tucked up into a hat that said Thinking Cap .

“Yeah, sure, that sounds right.” You replied, opening your lunch bag and taking out the sandwich you made this morning. “Pretty boring place if you ask me.”

“Hey, wait, are you the one that just moved next door to me?” Another boy to your left asked. This one had shoulder length black hair and bangs, it kind of seemed like he was trying to look like Eddie if you were being honest.

“Probably? I just got here, dude. I don't even know my own address, let alone yours!” You laughed, trying not to sound mean, but wanting to get the message across that you don't know anyone or anything in this town. You took a bite out of your sandwich and looked towards Eddie, who was once again leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, looking at you.

Eddie laughed and adjusted his sitting position so that he was leaning back just a little bit more, legs spread apart like he owned the place. “She’s new, like I said. But I think she fits in with us already. An outcast, a metal head, possibly a freak like yours truly.” He meant “freak” in the same way that the cheerleader had meant it when she walked into you at your locker; a person who doesn't conform to the normie bullshit and instead proudly displays their true self to the world.… that's probably how he meant it, you think.

“I appreciate that, Eddie.” you said, smiling at him. Something in his eyes flashed as you said his name, fear? Arousal? Just simple appreciation? You weren't sure.

The rest of the table appeared to accept that you were part of the group immediately. It seemed that Eddie was their leader and they would follow his every word. Again, like he was a king. Unlike other “kings” you had met, Eddie actually seemed to take pride in being a leader; he accepted the responsibility and he cared about his “subjects” a huge amount. He certainly had power, but his friends respected him and his ideas. It felt very fair.

“So what do you guys do in this town?” You asked between bites of your sandwich. “Sex, drugs, alcohol and loud music?” You were only half joking with that suggestion, they were the main things most people did in every place you've been to, but you were looking for more of a “places to go” answer.

“I mean, you're pretty spot on.” The guy right across the table piped up. He had sort of poofy hair and a plaid vest that had a bunch of pins on it. “We’re in a band so… we’re the loud music bit.” He gestured to Eddie and the two other guys on his side of the table.

“Woah really?” You were honestly a little excited about this information. “I assume a metal band, yeah?”

“Duhhhhh!” Eddie droned, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Nothing else is worth playing.”

“Well, slow down there cowboy.” you laughed, “Other music is good too! Doesn't all have to be sick guitar solos and screaming your lungs out. Sometimes it's nice to chill out to some Elvis.”

“Oh god.” Eddie suddenly looked scared and sick as he stared directly at you. “I was wrong… you're secretly… a normie!” He dramatically flailed his arms and pretended to pass out, like the shock of your extended music taste had killed him. The whole table laughed at him, you included. The sheer drama of this man was keeping you hooked, you were already having fun and you had only just met him. He was comfortable to be around though, like you’d known him since childhood. When he opened his eyes and sat up, you were the first thing he looked at, your smiling face, laughing at his little act.

“You should come watch us play some time!” The guy in the plaid vest offered.

Pulling your eyes away from Eddie, you answered, “I’d love to! Where do you play?” You absolutely would love to see them play! You just hope that they’re some kind of good.

“Every Tuesday at a bar called The Hideout. It's a little far from here.”

“Oh… well I don't have a car, anyone I could hitch a ride with?” You asked, looking around the table. The younger kids probably didn't have cars either but maybe they had other friends who went to see the band play.

“We can drive you.” Eddie answered quickly. “You can be our first groupie.” You think you saw him wink at you.

“Hold on, really? You never offer rides to non-band members. Something about the sanctity of the van or something?” Plaid vest looked shocked at Eddie’s immediate offer.

“Yeah, well, I've made an exception.” Eddie waved his hand and his words were accepted.

“Really, you don't have to if that's not your thing. I can find my own way there some time, or I'll watch you play someplace else. No biggie. Don't make exceptions for me, I'm not special.” You pleaded. You really didn't want to just force your way into their group, it could end badly if you pissed people off. You could handle being alone or kicked out but you wouldn't be able to handle being the reason the band or the friend group broke up.

“No, really, it's fine. If we bring you along then you'll be forced to listen to our whole set and then maybe we'll finally have a fan!” Eddie explained. “We play tonight if you want to come?”

Suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed, you pulled away, “I… can’t tonight. I have a lot of unpacking to do. I still have to find all my clothes.” You laughed a little uncomfortably. “Next time though, yeah?”

Eddie looked a little saddened by that, but understanding nonetheless. “That's okay!” He reassured, “Next time.” He gave a warm smile to let you know he wasn't trying to pressure you.

“We- we also have a DnD club!” Thinking Cap kid said excitedly.

At this, your eyes brightened. You'd played DnD a few times at different schools, they always ended on cliffhangers though, because you left before the campaign could really get going. “Really!?” You asked. “That's so cool!”

Everyone at the table got excited then; asking you if you were serious, what kind of character you played, if you've ever DM'd, just question after question, none of them getting answered. You laughed as the boys bombarded you with queries and Eddie progressively got more and more annoyed with them.

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” He yelled, silencing the table immediately, and a few others next to yours. He was standing now and he turned to you, “You're lying right? There's no way you're actually into DnD.” He looked a little hesitant waiting for your answer. Hopeful, maybe, that you were telling the truth.

“No, I'm not lying! Honestly, I've played a few times but none of the campaigns I've been a part of have gotten anywhere because I moved before we could get to the good stuff.” You explained.

“Ho-ly-shit!” Eddie said, emphasizing each syllable. “You're perfect. You're actually perfect. Sent from heaven, we've gained an angel, boys!” He raised his arms to the air like he was praising a God, the table roared with excitement again. Then he dropped his hands down onto the table with a bang! Making you all jump a little.

Suddenly very serious, he leaned into his hands, looming over you slightly and asked “What's your class and level?”

Realizing he was quizzing you, or maybe this was a hazing? You answered immediately, “I play a Half-Elf Paladin named Sebastian. With my limited amount of play time I've managed to eke him up to level 5.” proud of your answer you lifted your chin up to Eddie, showing him you weren't lying and you definitely knew your shit.

The table was silent again, watching the two of you battle. “Backstory?” He questioned.

“Sebastian was abducted by a group of thieves when he was 15. He spent 20 years under their command, being the muscle to their brains. One night, the thieves’ camp was raided and Sebastian joined the raiders’ side, killing the people who took him hostage. Now, he's sworn an oath to kill or punish every thief or criminal who holds prisoners or slaves captive. He’s also searching for his lost parents that he was ripped away from.” You held eye contact with him the whole time you told your story. Your character's backstory was something you were very proud of and you weren't going to let him make a fool of you.

Eddie leaned back away from you, sitting comfortably in his chair again. “Not bad.” he praised. “I'm thoroughly impressed. I guess we can add ‘nerd’ to your list of qualities that make you fit in here.”

You smiled at him, a warm feeling in your chest growing as you felt the validation from him. “Thank you. I wear that title with pride.”

“Okay! So she's joining us right!? This is fricken awesome!” Thinking Cap shook his clenched hands in front of him in excitement.

Still staring at Eddie, you raised an eyebrow to him, questioning if he wanted you to join or not.

“That's up to her.” He stated. “I think it's clear that the invitation is open.”

Glancing at the table full of smiling guys, all of them on the edge of their seat, waiting for your answer, you simply said, “Then I accept.”

The table roared a final time and you received a few pats on the back and a few “Welcome to hellfire!”s. Meanwhile, Eddie was grinning from ear to ear, trying to play down his excitement, but you could see the way he squeezed his crossed arms together, the same way he did when you talked about music in class. He was definitely happy that you said yes.

When the excitement finally died down and everyone settled into a lighter conversation, Eddie scooted his chair closer to you and whispered somewhat close to your ear. “If we're too much for you, you can tell us to back off. I didn't mean to bombard you with so much shit on your first day. You just seem really cool, and that's rare around here, so I wanted you to have some equally cool friends.”

Turning your head slightly to look at him, you noticed how comfortable he was with being so close to you. And how comfortable you were with it as well. “I'm enjoying it actually,” you whispered back. “I've never felt this welcome before.”

“Good.” Was all he said as he moved away from you, showing off his dimples again with a smile.

You finished your lunch while listening to the multiple conversations happening around the table. Two boys were bickering, three were talking about guitar solos, and Eddie and Plaid Vest were discussing something very quietly. You thought to yourself “Okay, I definitely think like it here for once.”

“Hey, lunch is almost over,” Plaid Vest announced, looking to you. “What class do you have next?”

Reaching into your back pocket, you pulled out your schedule. “Ummm… History, with O'Donall.”

“NO WAY!” Eddie yelled from right beside you, startling you a bit. “So do I! Let me see your schedule!”

You handed the paper over to Eddie and both he and Plaid Vest (you really should have asked everyone’s name) looked over every class. “None of those are with me, unfortunately.” Plaid Vest said, slightly disappointed. The end-of-lunch bell rang and students began packing up their lunches, returning their trays, and leaving the cafeteria. “I'll see you later tho!” He waved at you with a genuine smile and left the cafeteria.

“You’ll never fucking believe this, but we have every single class together!” Eddie said excitedly.

“No way.” You said flatly, you did not believe that one bit. The rest of the table started packing up their things as well and heading out. Everyone gave you a polite “bye” on their way out.

“I'm serious! Well, except for first period, but the rest of today we do! I’d show you my own schedule but it's in my locker.” Eddie insisted. He stood up as you did and kept to your side as you made your way back to your locker to gather your things.

“So what you're saying is: I'm never going to get rid of you?” You joked, opening up your locker.

“Oh absolutely!” Eddie said with a devilish grin on his face. “Guess you and I have to be friends forever now.”

“Well… forever for me might only be a couple months before I move again, but I think I can handle you for that long.” You teased, pulling the last of your class stuff out of your locker and shutting it.

“You're going to move again? You just got here.” Eddie asked. You both started down the hall towards history class, Eddie leading the way.

“Well, I've moved probably near fifty times in my eighteen years of life, so… it's not unlikely that I'll move again.”

“FIFTY!?” Eddie yelled

“Calm down,” you laughed at his sudden outburst, that number usually surprises people. “Yeah something like that. Makes it hard to keep friends.” You said, sounding a lot sadder than you meant to.

“That fucking blows. Why do you move so much?” Eddie was genuinely curious about you, he was leaning in and listening to your every word.

“You'd have to ask my dad. He pisses off a lot of people and then we’re forced to skip town before he gets his ass beat.” You explained. “He's not in trouble with the cops or anything, just like… landlords, neighbors, bar owners, liquor store employees… pissed off a mayor once too.” God your dad’s a mess.

“Wow, what an asshole.” He stepped through the doorway of your history class and held his arm out in front of him, waving you through like you were royalty. It made you laugh, and made other people stare.

“You're telling me.” You said, exaggerated. You walked past Eddie and quickly made your way to the teacher at the head of the room, wanting to introduce yourself quickly this time so that there weren't so many students in the room for her to announce your presence to.

This teacher, once again, confirmed that this was the right class and welcomed you to Hawkins High. As she finished writing your name on the attendance sheet, a shrill voice let out an exasperated “UGH!” from behind you.

“This is my seat, you freak! Go find a trash can to sit in, or better yet! Go jump off a bridge!” The same blonde haired cheerleader who had smashed into you in the hall was currently screaming at Eddie, who was sitting at a pair of desks in the third row with his feet on the table, not looking at her at all.

“Miss Blackwell! That is enough! None of these seats belong to anyone! Please find another desk to sit in. Mister Munson has already chosen that one.” Ms. O'Donall stated, sternly. She then sighed and added, “And thank you for joining us today, mister Munson.” sounding like she was annoyed that he showed up at all.

The cheerleader and her friend stomped away from Eddie who was now smiling at you, very proud of himself. They sat down at a different pair of desks which caused another two students who had just walked in, to be upset and move back a row, they caused another two to move, and another, and another, and another. Eddie had just disrupted almost every student’s seating habit single-handedly.

“What are you doing?” you whispered to Eddie as you took your seat next to him. “You really wanted to hear the cheerleaders whine huh?”

“Of course! It sounded like fun when I suggested it, and I didn’t think you would do it, so I did.” He took his feet off the desk in front of him and leaned toward you so only you could hear him. “Plus, I figured this was a good spot, you can see the board from here right?”

Did he really just force some cheerleaders to move seats just so that you wouldn't have to sit at the back of the room and squint to see the board? “Eddie!” You whispered, scolding him a bit. “You did not just do that so I could see the board.” You were looking him directly in the eyes, searching for some other explanation than kindness towards you, someone he just met.

Eddie just shrugged his shoulders with a big smile on his face and leaned back in his chair, assuming the same position as he seemed to always do, arms crossed, legs spread.

You continued to stare at him, bewildered that someone would do that for you. A loud voice pulled you away though, “Miss y/ln. I don't think today's lesson is on mister Munson’s forehead, so could you face the board where it actually is, please?” Ms. O’Donall, who you now know will be a hard-ass, was looking directly at you, lips pursed together. “Sorry.” you said quietly, and turned to face her. She nodded sharply and went back to the lesson. You heard a few giggles from behind you, probably the cheerleaders.

You took out your notebook and began copying the notes Ms. O'Donall was writing on the board, trying your hardest to not look at Eddie. Something in your head kept wanting to stare at him, to get closer to him, to really make a friend this time around. But you knew if you did that, it would end in heartbreak when you were dragged off to another city with your parents. So you pushed it all down. Hanging out with the boys won't be so bad, there's no harm in having fun, you just won't let yourself get too attached to them and the break will be clean. Hopefully.

The rest of the day went by smoothly. You managed to get some notes from Ms. O'Donall on the two weeks that you missed so you wouldn't be so behind. And your last class of the day was biology, probably the only class that you learned anything in during all of last year, so it felt like more of a review than new information. Eddie chose to sit you near the front in biology as well, though no one yelled at him in that class, which was honestly surprising.

When the final bell rang, Eddie followed you once again to your locker. “How did you understand a single thing that Mr. Grinnell said?”

“I've been through it before. This is my second senior year. Fuck every other class, but bio? That's my shit. Well, and art, but that doesn't count.” You explained, pulling your jacket and backpack from your locker.

“I dunno, I've been through it before too, but I think it made even less sense this time around.” He rubbed his forehead like thinking made his brain hurt.

You closed your locker and placed your hand on his shoulder. “If you need some help, I don't mind. After all you've done for me so far, I think I owe you something. We can help each other finally finish our senior years. Well… help each other for as long as I'm here.”

Eddie pulled his hand away from his face and looked up at you. “You serious? Because I think I could really use the help. I'm dumb as shit so it might be a challenge, but I'm not gonna say no if it means we get to hang out.” He seemed to be excited about your offer.

“Yeah, I'm absolutely serious. Gives me a reason to stay away from my house and my parents.” You really hated sitting around the house with your dad who was always drunk and mad, and your mom who was always high and stupid. “But not tonight though, I really do have to find my clothes or else I'll be showing up to school tomorrow in this exact outfit. Plus, you have a gig to get to.” You smiled at him warmly, making sure he knew that you weren't just being nice for the sake of it. You really did like the idea of having someone to keep you on track in school, and you had no problem with helping him do the same.

“Deal!” He excitedly accepted and stuck out his hand for you to shake.

You took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “No taking that back now, we've made a deal!” You said, pointing at him.

He grinned. “Scout's honor!” he swore, raising his hand to place it over his heart, his other hand still holding yours.

The two of you made your way outside, ready to head home. “Need a ride?” Eddie offered.

“No, that's okay, I'll walk.” You politely declined.

“Are you sure? If you live near Wheeler, that's a pretty far walk!” Wheeler must be the kid you moved in next to. The one with black hair that looked like Eddie’s.

“Honestly, it's not that bad of a walk. I made it to school that way.” Granted, you were late two periods, but that wasn't entirely your fault. You didn't have your alarm clock unpacked yet and you woke up later than you meant to. “It's pretty straightforward. Plus, it's how I usually learn the city. If I get lost, I'll just wander till I find my way back.”

Eddie looked a little worried for a moment so you patted him on the shoulder and reassured him, “I'll be fine. Promise. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah!?”

He hesitated for a moment but you could see him decide against arguing with you. “Alright then, yeah. See you tomorrow, y/n.” He said, nodding and smiling.

“Bye, Eddie.” You gave him a big smile and a little wave and headed off in the direction of your new house.

The walk home took about 20 minutes, plenty of time to sort out your head and take note of all that had happened in the day. You made six friends in one day, definitely a new record for you! You joined a DnD party, possibly became a groupie, pissed off some cheerleaders, and gained a study buddy. There's a good chance that this town wasn't going to be the worst you've ever stayed in. But the looming question of “just how long will this last?” would never leave your mind.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson slow burn #stranger things au #stranger things 4 #friends to lovers

34 notes · View notes

sofiiel · 8 months ago

Text

𝐂𝐡.𝟐: 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 | 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐓𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭

CW: No warnings needed I think | Word Count: 1,825

Bea sat among the sunflower fields, with her worn plaid blanket and her sketchbook. Tossed to the side in the dirt lay a study book. Abandoned in the soil.

Bea kicked her feet to the song that seemed to be stuck in her head and focused on her drawing.

However, after a while, a distant melodic buzzing broke the rhythm of her song.

Bea stopped kicking her feet, pausing to let the buzzing pass. The wind would shift the sunflowers and the buzzing would stop, but only to pick back up moments later.

She heaved a bothered sigh and started to pack up her sketchbook and pencils, rolling them up in her blanket.

Bea's Jelly shoes stomped against the ground as he exited the fields. Her eyes looked left and right. But there was no one and nothing around.

... Well, nothing except for the loud barking dog heading her way. Skip's fluffy black and white tail waved like the car lot inflatables behind her.

"I was coming back home Skip." Bea said while she gave the dog a pat on the head.

Skip barked and circled Bea.

"I know, I know..." Bea murmured, disliking the idea of being herded.

The distant buzzing melody came yet again, buried beneath Skip's barks. Bea paused, and looked towards the far fence, the long way back home.

"Titi says nobody comes out here," Bea told herself, turning her back to the sound and heading back into the fields with Skip to take the shortcut.

You're hold up in your art studio, perched on a pale wooden stool before your easel and canvas. White paint-splattered sheets cover the wooden floors.

It's been an hour since you started working on this painting, Your rear screaming for a chance to walk around.

But you hadn't received a commission in months.

"This has to be perfect..." You murmur.

With a sigh, you glance out the studio window. Sunshine and chirping birds, "It should be a crime to be inside." You thought.

You adjust the brush in your hand and go back to work, focusing on the portrait of the Mayor. No, you didn't vote for him, but you had no objections to taking his money.

Your attention wandered outside once more, past the apple tree and through the tall wooden fence, you'd thought you saw a shadow move.

You squint your eyes, for a clearer look, but it's already gone.

"Maybe it was some birds." You thought, turning your eyes back to your work.

"No one's around for miles, You're just looking for excuses to stop." you murmur.

Kip and Skip's barking followed the slamming of the screen door.

"Titi! I'm back!" Bea shouted.

"I'm in the studio!" You call back.

The wooden floors groan and creak, sounding off every step.

"How come you get to paint all day and I have to study? It's Spring break...." Bea murmured.

She picked at the strings hanging from the hem of her overall dress.

"Because this is work-related. Trust me - I'd rather be outside." You replied.

Bea shrugged her shoulders high, "So go outside and paint."

Your wrist stops moving, and you slowly turn to your niece. Wondering why you hadn't thought of that.

Bea looked about the room, "You got to carry a lot of stuff out though."

Standing up, you cleaned your brush and got to work on staging and gathering your supplies.

"At this point, it would be worth it." You sighed, "Go get your study book, and we'll work together outside, I'll meet you out there in a bit."

Bea smiled faintly and with a quick turn of her heel, left the studio.

Eddie dug through his belongings in search for the crackling device emitting a frustrated voice.

"Hello? Helllooo? Eddie, man you there?" Dustin's voice came through as a muffled echo.

"Shit...shit, come on, where?" Eddie hissed in a whisper, digging through a box full of personal items.

His hands grasped the walkie, fingers fumbling with a slipping grip.

"Yeah, I'm here, I'm here." Eddie answered quickly.

"I've been trying to reach you for two hours!" Dustin raged.

"Kinda overslept. There aren't many places that don't make me feel like I'm being watched." Eddie muttered.

He glanced out the van window, his eyes scanning the lush farmland. There was something about this little patch of Hawkins that felt like a warm blanket and a cool pillow.

Dustin sighed, "Where are you?" He asked.

"Out by the old sunflower cottage," Eddie replied. "I already told Wheeler by letter..."

"Well don't move, I'm coming out there with supplies," Dustin instructed.

Eddie snatched up his lukewarm cola, "Does anyone else know I'm back?" he asked curiously.

"Nancy, Steve, Robin, Wayne knows, haven't told Hellfire yet." said Dustin.

Eddie gave a slight nod, guzzling down his soda before eyeballing a few tomatoes sitting in a plastic bag.

"Hey with those supplies you think you can bring me some bread and mayo?" Eddie asked.

"Sure but why?" Dustin questioned.

Eddie slowly smiled, "Tomato Sandwiches. Duh."

"You can't steal from the property, Eddie!" Dustin scolded.

"Why? No one lives there, right? Old lady Anita died. She'd want someone to use her prized garden." Eddie reasoned.

"There is something wrong with that place Eddie, the plants never wither, the sunflowers never die, trees always have leaves. They aren't evergreens...." Dustin warned.

Eddie shrugged, "maybe old lady Anita had a real green thumb." he mused, "Besides, how else is a guy supposed to eat? I can't exactly waltz into town?" He added.

"I'll bring you food, just stop, you'll get yourself caught." Dustin sighed before hanging up.

Eddie scoffed, "Not a chance." Slipping on his jacket Eddie released a satisfied sigh, "Actually, could go for some apples..." he murmured.

Bea quickly got tired of waiting on her Titi and wandered off wanting a snack, she went to find her favorite red apple tree. It'd had four bright apples hanging low.

Looking up at the deep green leaves, her brows furrowed tightly.

"Gone..." Bea murmured. Her brows lifted in speculation, "Maybe there is a bear." she whispered.

Kneeling down, Bea started to look for footprints in the grass. She'd read her GeeGee's book on hunters. Even though she wasn't supposed to.

But there weren't any tracks, and Bea wouldn't know how to look for them anyway - the book never went into much detail.

As Bea went to stand, she noticed a patch of grass had been pressed completely flat. She gasped a little and a smile came to her face. "Bears" she whispered, looking around. Through the hedges, for only a moment she thought she spotted something move near the further cluster of sycamore trees.

"Bea? Where'd you go!" she could hear her Titi calling for her.

Bea exhaled, she'd have to investigate later.

"Coming!" Bea called.

"Where'd that girl go?" You questioned.

You'd created a lovely little space to finish your painting under the shade of Poppy. Once again perched on that uncomfortable stool, though with the fresh air and the smell of the sunflower fields it was less bothersome.

"Titi! Titi!" Bea shouted, barreling towards you as fast as her Jelly shoes would allow.

For a moment, you started, "What happened?"

Bea shook her head, "No, nothing is wrong!" she cheered. A grin tok over her face.

"There is a bear!" she added.

You nearly dropped your brush, "Wait, you saw one? Bea you didn't get close to it, did you? We need to call the-"

"No!" Bea shouted horrified, "They'll send it away, all it wants is food!"

You exhale, fear deflating as you watch Bea protest.

"Nobody's going to be nice to it. If it were bad, it would be causing trouble." Bea went on.

"Bea...bears a big dangerious wild animals." You stated carefully.

"But what is this one's magic?" asked Bea.

You side glanced quickly, a slight frown on your face.

"not again." You thought.

"Bea...there's no such thing as-"

"GeeGee said there was!" Bea barked, her cheeks puffing out.

You didn't have the heart to argue against that. After all, when you were small, you used to think your grandmother was magic as well.

"Okay fine, tomorrow we'll take Kip and Skip and check around." You stated calmly.

Bea settled down, "really?" she asked.

You give her a nod and a hint of a smile, "Really."

"I doubt there was a bear, but then...what did she see?" you thought.

"Can we bring it fruit for later?" Questioned Bea.

"Sure why not, now let's both get to work huh?"

Eddie strummed at an old acoustic guitar that had seen better days. It wasn't his Dragonslayer and it was a mighty far cry from Sweetheart. But Eddie could not deny it was a good companion all the same.

Eddie strummed lightly when he heard the sound of bike wheels approaching.

"Pst! hey!" Dustin's voice whispered.

Eddie rested his guitar agaist the wall of the van and opened the back doors.

"Hey, Henderson! been a while." Eddie greeted.

Dustin held a look of dismay as he looked Eddie over. "Dude..." he lulled. "You look like a cartoon hobo!" Dustin laughed, pushing down his kickstand.

"Yeah laugh it up, It's part of my disguise." said Eddie.

"Only you still look like yourself...just caveman edition." Dustin replied.

Eddie welcomed Dustin into the van and the two settled down inside on the floor.

Dustin watched as Eddie rummaged through the bag of supplies.

"Seems Steve was right about buying you a shaver..." Dustin sighed.

Eddie pulled out a cox os cigarettes and started to pack them down.

"So what's Wheeler got planned?" He asked Dustin.

"Nancy thinks she can get access into the files with evidence supporting the cover-up." Dustin reported.

"Oh yeah? How? Why all of a sudden? That sounds a little too easy to have taken this long to think of..." Eddie murmured.

"Easy, we didn't have Suzie back then. Suzie didn't know how. Going to college for Computer science? That helps a lot. We now have a way into their system." Dustin said.

"You came out here to brag on your girlfriend?" Eddie teased.

"Be serious, Eddie." Dustin sighed.

"Sorry, sorry. It's just good to talk with someone face to face again." Eddie confessed. "I'm all ears I swear."

"When we know how to reach the files, Nance and Robin are going to try and sneak in. We think, we know of where they're kept. Turns out...they still really like Hawkins as headquarters." Dustin explained.

Eddie could feel a cold sweat develop as his palms became clammy. "They are? Why am I here if they are here, Henderson?" Eddie stammered with rushed words.

"Because under their nose is the last place they'd look." said Dustin, "I trust Nancy. Do you trust Nancy?" he pressed.

"Course," Eddie answered quickly.

"Then stop panicking."

"I don't like this feeling of fresh deja vu, for the record," Eddie murmured.

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐓𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭

#My Neighbor Munson #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #no descriptions of reader's bodily appearance are given #eddie munson afab!reader insert #fugitive!eddie munson #30yo!eddie munson #1990s!eddie munson

18 notes · View notes

vivwritescrappythings · 7 months ago

Text

it'll heal

vampire!eddie munson x fem!afab!reader

Part two is to Just Love Me and Eat.

Your boyfriend Eddie is back from the Upside Down—but he’s different, smut ensues.

This is a rewrite of something I already posted, so if it seems familiar--that's why. I wanted this to be from Eddie's perspective, I still don't think it’s my best work but i've decided to post it!

tw: reader is afab and identifies as a girl, p in v sex, unprotected sex, nipple play, fingering, biting, blood drinking, crying, bad writing, vampirism as a metaphor for love.

word count: 6.1k

masterlist

MDNI!

—

He could hear the wood splinter under his fingers, hardly feeling it as he held himself back. It was like you punched Eddie in the chest, the request leaving him empty and reeling. Before he knew it, you’d tangled a hand in the soft curls at the nape of his neck and pushed him into your throat until his teeth pressed against your skin.

He could hardly remember how he got to the point where he was bent over you, nosing and licking at your throat like a starving man. You kept squirming and whimpering his name, tears running across your temples and into your hairline. He put a hand on your sternum to keep you down, forcing you to be still beneath him. It was like a wolf holding a rabbit to the ground, just waiting to bite. He could tell you were scared and confused, your eyes searching his face for some familiarity.

Eddie’s mouth was watering, the smell of your blood and the sound of your heartbeat overwhelming him with hunger. He didn’t know why his stomach was clenching as he felt the veins in your neck under his lips. He couldn’t stop scraping his teeth on the sensitive skin, so tempted to just sink them into you. The part of his brain that wasn’t running on instinct was alarmed by the idea of it—he’d never even imagined hurting you before.

You figured it out before Eddie did–you always were too damn smart for your own good. When you said you loved him it made his heart ache, his breath faltering for a moment. If only you knew the way he imagined tearing into your neck and sucking up the blood inside of you.

Then, you begged him to eat.

“Just love me and eat.” It rang in his mind as Eddie finally sank his teeth into your neck.

The burst of blood in his mouth made him groan, almost drowning out the sound of your pain as he bit into your flesh. His hand left your chest to cradle your cheek, the curve of your face had always fit nicely into the hollow of his hand. Your blood tasted so sweet, warming him from the inside out as he drank from you. He let his mind wander as he sucked at your throat like some overgrown mosquito.

Eddie didn’t know what he would find when he scaled his way up the side of the building to your window that night. Part of him had concocted some scenario where you’d been so broken up by his death that you found some loser to comfort you through it, it made him move even faster. He was shocked by the way he could grip onto the smallest of ledges between the uneven brick siding of your apartment building, under typical circumstances he would’ve had to come through the door like a normal person.

But that’s the thing.

He’s not normal. Not anymore.

Eddie had no clue how long had passed when he woke up in the dirt in the Upside Down. His body ached, he could feel every bite and scratch and scar from the demobats as he sat up and looked around. The bat carcasses were around him in a wide circle, the sweet and putrid smell of rotting flesh filling his nose as he slowly made his way to his feet. The sky was an eerie red, but the rest of his surroundings were still.

That was the first time he felt the burning pain of his newly discovered hunger. He thought he knew what it was like to starve, but this was next level. It made Eddie stumble, the force of it hitting him feeling like a freight train as he clutched at his stomach and throat.

Crawling out of the Upside Down was climbing out of his own grave. His hands were caked with mud as he opened the way through the gate in the road, it was the first one he could find. Hawkins looked like it had been torn to shreds, huge cracks in the ground and buildings in the town center partially crumbled. It was the middle of the night, he didn’t even see another person out on the sidewalk... it was probably better that way.

Eddie’s only thought was finding you. The image of you sobbing over him in the Upside Down was burned into his eyelids. The thought that you might have left Hawkins occurred to him when he was tapping on your window with a gaudy costume ring. But the curtain was the same, the purple one you made him hang up because you didn’t like the blinds.

When you snapped the curtain aside he didn’t know what to expect. It certainly wasn’t the broken version of who you once were, dark circles and tangled hair and sallow skin. You were wearing his extra Hellfire shirt, the one he hadn’t cut the sleeves off of—Wayne must have given it to you.

The thud of your hand hitting the floor woke him from his stupor, making him reluctantly pull away from your throat. Your fingers were relaxed, splayed open like there was no energy left inside you. Eddie couldn’t help licking long stripes across the wound, his tongue warm and wet as he lapped at the remaining blood.

He sat back on his heels, taking in the way you were practically boneless against the wood floor. Your eyes were almost crossed as you looked up at him. Prey looking at the predator. You were devoid of color in your skin, slowly blinking and so weak you could hardly lift your hand. Did he really do this to you?

“C’mon, baby,” he whispered, picking you up off the floor to bring to your bed. He was careful to be gentle with you, his gaze focused on the wound on your neck as your head lolled to one side like there were no bones in your body. Worry struck him like lightning, the only thing keeping him calm was that he could actually hear your pulse.

Eddie situated you on the bed, tucking you in and taking off his shoes and dirt-covered clothes as he slid in behind you. He sighed as he sunk into your mattress, pulling your back to his chest. He choked back a sob, pressing his face into your hair and inhaling the faint lemon scent of your shampoo.

Your panic was obvious to him, the way you fought falling asleep as though a nightmare was waiting for you on the other side. It made him placate you with whispered promises and quiet words until you fell asleep in his arms. Just like you used to before.

His hand left your waist to touch his own chin, your blood smeared on his fingertips. The idea of wasting any of your blood made panic unfurl in his chest, his fingers wiping as much of the drying blood into his mouth before he messily slicked his own tongue across his cheeks and chin like a toddler with remnants of chocolate ice cream.

In the darkness of your bedroom, Eddie found himself wide awake next to you. Normally at this time of night he wouldn’t be able to see a thing, but now everything was so clear to him it practically could be noon. Your heartbeat was so loud to him, he could hear your blood pushing through your veins with every thump.

He got out of bed, his head practically vibrating as he tried to forget about the taste of your blood. Eddie left your room, leaving the door cracked behind him as he stepped into the small living room and kitchen of your one bedroom apartment. It felt like his throat was closing up, the room tilting dangerously as he leaned against the wall.

The only other time he had a panic attack was when his dad left, and it was nothing like this. He pressed his dirty hands to his eyes, shaking as he tried to catch his breath. Ever since he woke up in the Upside Down he knew something was wrong, but he’d never guessed it could be this bad.

“You need to pull yourself together, Munson,” he muttered. His shaking hands moved to fist in his curly hair, the strands still caked with drying mud from his crawl. “You’ve played too much fucking Dungeons and Dragons.”

The word vampire kept coming up in his thoughts. His fingers moved to feel the fangs in his mouth, pinching the elongated teeth and trying to wiggle them loose. Maybe it was all a bad dream, and if he could just pull the fangs off he would wake up in a world where he couldn’t describe the sensation of your warm, sweet blood sliding down his throat.

The fact that there is a world where he knows the taste of your blood is a cruel joke.

–

He could hear the moment you woke up, your breathing changing from the slow cadence to something sporadic. The bed creaked as you rolled over on it, he knew you were feeling his side to see if you had dreamed it all.

The door to the bedroom was still cracked open as he walked in—his steps were silent now. He’d decided to shower, cleaning the blood and mud off of his body under the warm spray of water. Your lemon scented shampoo and conditioner were the only things available, leaving his hair smelling like what he imagined a Herbal Essence commercial would.

You were about to cry, he could tell by the way the muscles in your abdomen were bunched up and the shaking hand pressed to your forehead. The way your eyes squinted made his heart break, sending him to your side. His hands found your shoulders as he sat down on the bed behind you, working his thumbs into your tense muscles.

“Baby, it’s okay.” His voice was soft, his fingertips pressing against the soft fabric of the Hellfire shirt you wore. You were trembling, a dismayed sob escaping you. He maneuvered so you were sitting between his legs, one of his arms curling around your waist. “I’m here.”

The sigh you let out was thick and wet, making his heart lurch in his chest. You twisted so you could look at him, watery gaze taking in the way his hair hung in wet curls around his face. “I thought I imagined it,” you whispered, leaning back against his chest. He’d changed into some of the pajamas you kept in your dresser for nights he slept over, finally getting rid of the acrid smell of the Upside Down.

Eddie shook his head, pressing his nose against your hair and taking a deep breath. You smelled like your shampoo and your detergent and the remnants of the nice perfume you’d probably worn at his funeral–you only put it on for special occasions. Under all of that he could smell your blood and sweat and something so human that it made him salivate.

The last time you sat like this was on his bed in Wayne’s trailer… did Wayne even live there anymore? He realized with a start that he had no clue. “It’s real, I’m here,” he muttered, one hand skimming down your arm as he tried to ground himself to this moment. Your hand was cradled in the curve of his palm, his calloused fingers skimmed the backs of your knuckles before slotting between yours.

“Eddie, you’re freezing,” you whispered. He hadn’t noticed, thinking that you had a fever or something. You twisted in his arms to press a hand against his neck, your palm feeling like a glove warmer against his skin.

Your eyes searched his, brows bunched up with concern. “You don’t feel cold?” you asked, smoothing some of his wet curls behind his ear. They were starting to dry, a familiar frizz emerging on his bangs. He found himself leaning into your touch.

Eddie shook his head, not sure how to answer. How could he tell you that you felt all too warm to him? You twisted further, placing the backs of your thighs on top of his quads so you could face him. He wore a black sweater you bought him last November, the thick knit feeling inviting after having to literally claw his way out of his own grave. The edge of a scar peaked out of the collar, jagged and so white it was almost shiny. He’d considered trying to steal some of your makeup to cover it.

You leaned over precariously to rifle through your nightstand drawer, throwing your center of gravity off. He held the outsides of your thighs to keep you steady, the last thing he wanted was you tumbling away from him. There was a thermometer stashed in there when you and Eddie caught the flu last October. He could hear the glass instrument rolling around with the other things you’d accumulated before you even found it.

The triumphant smile you had when you found the thermometer made his own lips quirk up in kind. Eddie let you put it under his tongue, going cross eyed as he watched the red stripe of mercury creep up the tick marks.

Your hands fussed over him as you waited, twisting unruly curls around your fingers and picking at loose strings at the hem of the sweater. He was pliant under your touch. His body ached for your affection, the last time you took care of him feeling like an all too distant memory.

After a few moments the mercury finally stopped moving, Eddie pulling it out of his mouth for you to read out. You held it close to your eyes and squinted to read the tick marks. “Eighty-seven,” you muttered, sounding flabbergasted. You pressed a warm hand to his forehead, as if you were trying to prove the thermometer wrong. “You should be like, in hypothermic shock or something.”

“I’m okay,” Eddie insisted, mumbling as he spoke. His full lips were tugged into a gentle pout, his typically ever-present smile gone. “You don’t gotta worry about me.”

He spoke without opening his mouth too much, an attempt to hide his teeth from your view. The sight had horrified him when he looked in the mirror earlier—even though he halfway expected to not be able to see himself at all. Nevertheless, he had shiny, white fangs where his canines and incisors used to be. They gleamed dangerously in the fluorescent light of your bathroom.

You caught on to his mumbling quickly. There was a moment of hesitation before you gently pulled back his top lip with your thumb. Eddie couldn’t help but wince as you revealed his teeth. You paused, your eyes wide as you took it in. The soft pad of your fingertip pressed against the incisor on his right side, a gasp rising from you as it sliced through the flesh.

Eddie cleared his throat, his eyes sliding closed for a moment as your finger bled. It smelled delicious, the tang of iron filling his nose as he tried not to breathe in too deep. The urge to sink his teeth into you filled him, saliva coating the inside of his mouth as he swallowed thickly. You were saying something, but he could hardly hear it over the sound of blood pumping in your veins. The steady thump of your heart was all he could focus on.

Succumbing to the weakness, he grabbed your wrist with one hand and sucked your pointer finger into his mouth. His eyes practically rolled back in his head as his tongue laved over your fingertip, not wasting a drop of blood. It took everything in his body to not bite you.

When Eddie’s eyes fluttered open, he noticed you were frozen in place. Your plump lips were parted, your eyes as wide as dinner plates. Shame curled in his gut, making him let your wrist go. He was a monster, through and through, something from all the manuals he had on a shelf in his room.

You pulled your hand back quickly, your finger shining with his saliva. “What are you, Eddie?” you finally asked, your voice a whisper.

His gut wrenched at the question, brows furrowing and expression dropping. There was hesitation in his movements as his hands skated over your sides, the touches feather-light. Fear rattled in him as he felt you. The memory of last night still haunted him, the sound of your shallow breaths and the way you went limp on the floor were things he couldn’t scrub from his mind.

You asked something. “Dunno, baby,” Eddie choked out, defeated.

Still, the word he prayed didn’t apply rattled around in his head: vampire, vampire, vampire.

He looked back up at you, his fangs just barely poking out onto his bottom lip as he did. The salty taste of your blood still lingered on his tongue, reminding him that he wasn’t human anymore. Then his gaze followed the curve of your jaw and slope of your neck to the hellish wound he’d left behind last night. He grimaced, crestfallen that he was able to hurt you so much.

The attention made you reach for it, your fingertips skirting along the edges of the scabbed-over wound. It was in the shape of a perfect bite mark.

“I almost killed you last night,” Eddie said, his grip momentarily tightening on your hips. He was staring at the bite, thinking about how much of a monster he was to be able to do that to you. You were his sweet girlfriend, someone willing to do anything for him, and he was able to hurt you like that.

“I’m okay,” you assured him, reaching forward to smooth your thumb along his cheekbone. The gentle touch startled him, making him flinch away from it. His head smacked into the headboard behind him, but he hardly even registered it.

Things like that were supposed to hurt, but now they were nothing.

He took in a sharp breath, his eyes flickering over your gaze and back to your neck. “Baby, look at your neck and then tell me you’re okay,” Eddie said, on the edge of tears.

Ever stubborn, you huffed and clumsily stood up with his hand as stabilizers on your hips. You twisted to look at yourself in the floor-length mirror mounted on your wall, Eddie’s brown eyes looking over your shoulder. The wound on your neck was gnarly, the bite mark looking more like that of an animal than a man. You gently traced it with your fingertips, wincing as you pressed a few tender spots on your neck.

He felt liked all the air had been sucked out of the room, waiting for you to scream and run from him. Or to make him leave. Anything. Every second of silence was stealing his breath and his peace.

“It’ll heal,” you said flippantly, staring at him in the reflection of the mirror. There was a stubborn set to your jaw, your gaze hard. You didn’t leave room for him to argue.

You turned to face him again, crawling back onto your bed on your hands and knees and slotting yourself against his side. It was hard to not lock up as you pressed yourself close, acting as though he wasn’t a monster.

He put an arm around you slowly, his jaw tight as his thumb stroked up and down the curve of your waist. He swallowed thickly, trying to blink away the tears as he took deep breaths.

There was a pit in his stomach. “I think I’m dangerous now,” Eddie muttered, staring straight ahead at himself in the mirror before his eyes twisted up to look at the popcorn ceiling. Before everything, he would’ve bet his entire life on the fact that he would never hurt you, but now he already had.

“Eds, you’re not dangerous,” you whispered, your fingers hooking over the side of his jaw and attempting to turn him to look down at you. He was stronger than he used to be, he didn’t budge an inch.

“Eddie,” you said, your voice more insistent. You were stubborn at the worst of times. He tilted his head down to look at you, trying to tamp down the distress that was starting to make him hyperventilate.

You sat up slightly, pressing yourself as close to him as he would allow. “I can’t lose you again.”

I won’t make it. The words were left unspoken between you two.

Eddie sighed, his long fingers twisting into your hair at the nape of your neck. There was a feeling of defeat sinking in his chest, a realization that despite the fact that he wanted to run so you’d be safe from him: he felt the same way. “I know, baby,” he finally murmured, his voice soft and low as he stooped to nudge his temple against your forehead.

The embrace turned tearful, your shoulders starting to shake as you crumbled into sobs. How many times have you cried over him? Eddie didn’t want another second of your life to be spent crying–especially not on his behalf. He shushed you gently, combing his fingers through your hair in a misguided attempt to console you.

Comfort didn’t seem to be what you were looking for.

Before he could process what you were doing, you’d leaned forward to press your lips against his. Your mouth was so hot it almost felt like a brand against his skin, your soft lips moulding to his. The memory of your last kiss surfaced, just a quick stamp of his mouth on yours before he went off with Dustin. He was sure that you’d been thinking about it every day, about how insignificant you treated something so monumental as a last kiss.

This was a do-over.

He stiffened before finally reciprocating, a soft whimper squeezing from his throat as his hand curled around the back of your neck. He could taste the salt of your tears against his tongue, your lips parted against his.

You were taking more control than you usually liked to, hitching a leg over his lap and settling your weight on him. Eddie groaned, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as you straddled him again. He always loved how soft you were, the smooth skin of your thighs feeling like silk.

You didn’t stop crying, just letting the tears roll down your face as your hands twisted into the sweater he was wearing. Despite wanting to pull you closer, his hands remained motionless on the outsides of your thighs. There was a part of him that was so scared that he would leave hand-shaped bruises on you if he made a single move.

Then you ground your hips against his, pulling a ragged groan from his throat.

His head spun for a moment, buffering as he tried to make sense of things. Acting on instinct, his hips bucked up to meet yours, chasing the sensation of you against his already half-hard cock. The hand on your neck moved, his calloused fingertips brushing against the bite mark. He almost recoiled.

“Baby… I’ll hurt you…” Eddie insisted between kisses, but he couldn’t pull away. He was at war with himself, too scared to hurt you but too scared to let you go.

It would be the right thing to do, letting you go. Leaving and letting you focus on finding someone who was good for you. Someone who wasn’t branded the town freak and a suspected murderer. Someone human, who didn’t want to suck every drop of blood from your veins.

But Eddie had always been selfish.

He gently pulled you closer to him, giving in. “You won’t,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your eyelashes. They were clumped together by your tears, framing your eyes with glittering droplets in the diffused morning light.

Fuck. You were so pretty.

He didn’t answer, there weren’t words that could do his thoughts justice so he settled on pulling you in for another soft kiss. Your fingers brought him closer by the threads of his sweater and your knees squeezed the sides of his narrow waist. Your bed creaked slightly as you moved further into his lap, shimmying your hips.

Eddie let out a soft sigh, trying to stay level-headed as you ground against the bulge in his pajama pants. The Hellfire shirt you were wearing was soft as his hand slid beneath it, the scent of his Marlboros and weed still barely clung to the fabric.

The gnawing craving for a smoke was gone. But, like any addiction, he exchanged one craving for another.

There was hesitation blooming in his chest as his blunt nails slowly traveled up the soft swell of your belly, eventually ghosting on the underside of your breast. You still felt so damn soft. Part of him worried that if he pressed too hard you would break under his fingers.

“Please, Eddie,” you whispered, your voice sounding wrecked. He could hear the desperation in your tone, your wide eyes pleading as you tearfully begged him. The thin cotton of your panties and his pajama pants barely served as a barrier as you canted your hips against his, making the two of you moan softly.

He nodded, acquiescing to you like he always did. The hand under your shirt palmed at your left tit, thumb teasing the bud of your nipple into hardness as he looked at you with wide, brown eyes. A quiet moan pulled itself from your throat as you pressed your forehead against the curve of the bridge of his nose, the sound of your pleasure making his other hand follow suit.

Eddie huffed softly, kissing the tip of your nose as he kneaded your breasts in his hands. Your brows furrowed, your mouth dropping open as your eyes squeezed shut. He wished he had a picture of you like this, desperate and needy in all his favorite ways.

It was easier to swallow his hunger, basking in the glow of your pleasure as though it was his own. His hands stayed where they were, teasing your sensitive nipples as he peppered kisses on your face. It was enough to make your cotton panties soaked and sticky, he could actually smell your arousal before he could feel the wet spot on his pants.

“Eddie.” The way you panted his name against his lips was sinful, desperation dripping from your voice. It nearly broke him to hear you so desperate. Eddie could feel himself pushing his concern aside for a moment, rising to the occasion to meet whatever challenge you presented him. He just wanted you in every sense of the word.

“I hear ya,” he muttered, a hand moving down to cup your sex through the thin cotton. You mewled, canting your hips forward to grind down on his fingers. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head from the way you were soaking his hand through the fabric.

You fumbled with the waistband of Eddie’s pajama pants in a frantic effort to rid him of them. Eddie let you struggle for a moment, wondering how stubborn you would be. You didn’t give up, fruitlessly yanking at the elastic waistband of the red and black checkered pants and snapping it against his stomach. Taking pity on you, he lifted his hips enough for you to yank them down around his thighs.

He tensed, his brown eyes swirling up to look at the ceiling. Eddie didn’t want to see the way you looked at him, looked at the scars the demobats had left behind. Scars covered the milky skin of his thighs and lower belly, leaving some patches shiny and devoid of the dark, curly hairs that covered the rest of his legs.

But, he looked up to see you gaping, open-mouthed at the sight of his cock.

You always told him it was a pretty dick, something Eddie vehemently denied. But then he watched your stare; the way you licked your lips as your eyes dragged up and down the length of it. He could feel himself blushing, his cheeks flushing a faint pink.

Your hand was so warm when it wrapped around the base of him, your other hand cupping his balls gently. Eddie moaned all the same, his eyes scrunching closed and his forehead landing in the curve of your neck. He didn’t remember being that sensitive, every touch feeling like lightning up his spine.

You smiled, you’d always been proud of your ability to make him crumble. His hand twitched against your sex, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit through your underwear in a clumsy attempt to reciprocate. Everything was cloudy, his mind struggling to find something to focus on.

Then you spit in your hand, returning it to slowly stroke up and down his shaft. The slick squelch of your saliva and his precome against your palm filled the quiet room, his instincts suddenly snapping into place.

It was a jumble of limbs and haphazardly pulled aside clothing, moans and grunts and sighs filling your room. The seams of your panties stretched, some of the threads snapping as Eddie hastily pulled them to one side to run his fingers up and down the wet seam of your cunt. He let out a sound like he’d been punched in the stomach, wetness completely soaking his digits.

He still had the good sense to go slow, pressing one finger into your tight, hot heat. You squeezed the digit without mercy, almost feeling like you were going to take it clean off his hand.

“Eddie, need your cock,” you breathed, looking at him with wide, pleading eyes and a soft pout. You knew that look would get you anything you wanted.

He cracked a smile, his fangs poking out and brushing against his lower lip. “Yeah baby? I’ll give it to ya,” Eddie whispered, a familiar smirk settling on his features as he let himself focus on something he was good at: making you feel good. He couldn’t deny you anything, not when you asked so sweetly.

He placed his hands on your soft hips, lifting you up with ease. It was almost like you weighed nothing, your body jolting forward as he lifted you too fast. Your hands braced on his shoulders to steady yourself, a soft snort escaping you. Eddie had always been strong, but never strong enough to handle you like you were nothing more than a doll.

You reached down and guided his cock to your entrance, your brows pinched together and your eyes cast down to Eddie’s lap. The two of you moaned in unison as you slowly lowered onto him. Fuck, you were tight. He grit his teeth in an attempt to keep his composure, the feeling of you around his cock making his head spin. The head of his cock was pressed against your cervix as your pussy fluttered around him, the two of you panting as you settled.

His breaths were shallow, he pressed kisses against you wherever he could as you breathed each other’s air.

It didn’t take long for you to adjust, your hips rocking against his as you placed your hands on his shoulders for leverage. He loved watching you take what you wanted, looking up at you through his thick lashes as you rode him. Eddie started to roll his hips up to meet you, each thrust of his coaxing soft ohs out of the recesses of your throat.

He helped you move, his hands anchored against your waist beneath the shirt you still wore. You both were so desperate that you hadn’t even bothered to undress, the gusset of your panties digging into one of the cheeks of your ass and his pants caught around his thighs. Eddie’s lips were parted, his breaths harsh. Your bed squeaked with each movement, the sound combining nicely with the smacking of your ass against Eddie’s thighs and your moans.

“Missed you so much,” you gasped, pulling his attention from the way your breasts bounced under the Hellfire shirt. Your hands fisted in the sweater he wore, your forehead knocking against his as you leaned in close.

“Me too,” he answered, one hand finding its way up your shirt to toy with your nipples again. The shirt had to stretch over the backs of his knuckles, exposing perfect outlines of the shape of his hands through the white fabric. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, his fangs pressing harshly against it.

It was getting hard to think right. His wires were crossed, the pound of your heart sounding so loud. Eddie’s throat burned, making him swallow thickly as lust and hunger crossed. He wanted to consume every part of you, crack your ribs open and drink you whole. You’d be stuck with him that way, a part of him always.

If you noticed anything, you didn’t mention it to him. Your legs quivered, reminding him to grab your hips and assist you with his arms. Your hand fisted in the back of his hair, pulling his mouth toward one of the thick arteries running across your neck on the opposite side of last night.

The smell was heavenly, rust mixing with your arousal and sweat. He pressed his nose on the vein beneath your skin, inhaling deeply as his eyes squeezed shut.

It was taking everything for him to not sink his teeth into you. Each thrust made him feel more feral, the muscles in his abdomen knitting together as he got closer and closer finishing. He could feel that you were close, too, your gummy cunt squeezing around him and sucking him in deeper every time your skin slapped together.

“Eat, Eddie,” you said between moans, rousing him from his thoughts to realize he had been placing open-mouthed kisses on top of the vein. It was so tantalizing, listening to the way your heart was beating in your ribcage. He couldn’t believe how long he went without hearing that sound.

Your thighs were quivering with exertion, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you continued to lift yourself up and down. He took over for your failing legs, moving you on top of him so he could better press against the spongy spot on the front wall of your cunt. Your eyes rolled a bit, your breath almost stopping in your throat at the new sensation.

Then you lurched toward him, whining and gasping his name as you came around him. Your cunt squeezed so tight, pulsing hotly around his cock in a way that made him see stars. You crushed Eddie’s mouth to your neck, your muscles locking up and leaving you to his mercy.

He kept you moving, thrusting up into you and groaning as he worked himself to his finish. His jaw was clenched so tight he was worried his molars would crack under the pressure, anything to keep him from accidentally squeezing you too hard with his hands.

The world faded away, just the sound of your heartbeat and your whimpers and the wet squelching of his cock plunging into you overwhelming his senses. His cock kicked inside of you, a clumsy mumble of your name and he felt like he was dying all over again.

But in the good way this time.

Eddie grunted as the first rope of come painted the inside of you, canting forward to press your spine into the mattress as he ground his hips against you. His teeth broke the delicate skin on your neck, making a matching bite to the one on your left side. The taste of iron on his tongue made him groan against you, his cock still buried to the hilt inside you as come dripped around the seal of your pussy.

He’d never experienced euphoria like this, ascending to heaven momentarily before coming crashing back to earth as he drank his fill. Nothing had ever tasted as good as your blood did, satisfying a hunger he could never begin to describe to you.

Eddie paid more attention this time, feeling it when your limbs started to go slack around him. He pulled away far before you passed out. His tongue laved greedily at the bite mark, desperate to consume every drop of blood without wasting it.

He could feel the flush of blood in his cheeks as he pulled back, the lack of control that nearly took over pushed away by your blood pumping through his veins finally sating him.

Or at least he assumed that’s how it all worked.

Blood was smeared on his lips and down his chin, just as messy as the first time. To his surprise, you dragged your thumb through the crimson stains, pressing the digit into his mouth. Eddie moaned, his eyes sliding shut as he sucked it clean, careful not to catch you with his fangs. You repeated the motion, lovingly scooping as much of your blood into his mouth that you could.

“I love you,” you whispered, wiggling into a comfortable position beneath him. Your thighs squeezed at his sides, most of you occupied with still bringing the remainder of your blood to his waiting mouth. Your voice was breathy, the softness of your tone made his heart ache. Last night, he thought you would never forgive him.

“I love you too,” he said, yawning. Exhaustion was finally catching up to him despite the sunlight on the other side of your curtain. He hadn’t found peace last night, guilt consuming his every thought as you dozed.

It was his turn to pass out, part of his weight collapsing on his forearm as a grogginess overtook him with a force he could hardly resist. He barely managed to pull out with a soft moan, collapsing partially onto your body and pressing you to the mattress beneath him.

You didn’t scold him, just clicking your tongue softly against your teeth as you adjusted the gusset of your panties to cover the mess he made of your pussy and carefully pulling up his pants. “Go to sleep, Eddie,” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair.

His vision was getting blurry, the slow blinks of his eyes getting longer each time. The last thing he heard was the steady thump of your heart, the beat of it lulling him to sleep.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #reader insert #kas!eddie #vampire!eddie x reader #vampire!eddie #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x afab!reader #kas!eddie munson

134 notes · View notes

caxde · 5 months ago

Text

disposible heroes | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary Eddie is assumed to be dead, you belived it, until music found his way into your live again, and a promise he's still alive is evident (7.2k)

warnings fem!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn, idiots in love!!!, english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!, canon-ish complaiant?

a/n: thank you to @sage-glowstick for all your help as I was writing this <33

“You know I’m here if you need me, right?” Robin’s voice felt as if it were coming from a thousand miles away, even if she was beside you, her fingers running through your hair, petting you softly.

“I know” Your voice came out croaky, heavy, raspy. Tears were still falling from your eyes, you felt them, the coldness of the salty water running down your reddened and hot cheek.

“Anything you need.” She repeated, wiping it away, her finger on the apple of your cheek a bit longer, trying to make you feel seen.

“It just doesn't feel real.” You whispered, not being able to actually say it fully out loud.

“I know.” She imitated your low tone, standing up from the bed as she looked out the window. “It’s a lovely day out, we could go for a walk.”

“In a bit, maybe.” You gave her a forced, half smile to her. She imitated it before nodding, standing up to finally leave the room, leaving the door ajar.

It was a good day out, sunny and without a cloud, the leaves on the tree outside your window moving slowly.

But he wasn’t there.

As far as you knew, his body still laid lifeless on the fractured darkened ground of the upside down.

And you hadn’t saved him.

Guilt consumed you.

It was worse, you had to lie to Wayne, you had to lie to the only person that knew him as much as you did, that cared for him as much as you did.

You buried an empty coffin a couple of weeks ago.

And all you had was an old shirt of his, and his guitar pick necklace you had once gifted him.

Your hands closed around it, one last tear falling down as you did so. I miss you, i’m sorry were the only thoughts running through your mind.

After a long time of just thinking, your eyes vacant and your thoughts going a bit too fast. As soon as Robin came to check on you once again, she knew where you were headed off to.

The mix he had made you was still in your car, playing his music as if he was next to you. If you concentrated enough, you could still hear him sing them, in his usual chaotic goofy voice and tone he always used to get you to laugh, though if he was being sirius or was in his own little world he actually had a beautiful voice, an angelical one if you were the one listening.

A weird combination of crying and laughter was now consuming you, as you finally parked your car in the same spot you had for the last few weeks.

It was a weird feeling, you became more yourself the closer you walked to his grave, the closer you came to seeing his name carved in stone, the fuller you felt, as if he was walking beside you.

The wind rustled in the leaves, as birds stopped singing, the sun still shining, your skin soaking it in, your puffy eyes squinting harder because of it.

It was a very scenic moment, you thought as you sat down in front of the carved stone.

“Hey Moon.” You whispered with a heavy heart. The stinging coming back to the back of your head as you looked at the faded graffiti you had cleaned yesterday. “I brought you a bit of music, I thought you might like it.” You fumbled through your bag, trying to find the little portable cassette player you had saved up for, that he had drawn in the back of with one of his markers. EM was here could still be seen in a faint white ink. “I finally got you the Metallica cassette you wanted.” You half smiled, trying not to break down again.

The first guitar notes from the song battery filled the air, you let your body hit the ground right as the bass started, your feet stomping at the melody.

“You’d love to play the guitar solo of this one.” You teased him, mumbling to the sky, your eyes closed, your body relaxing a bit more.

The little portable player was starting to make that funny noise it had been making for the last couple of days, that dirty interference that made you angry every time, interrupting your time, it only infuriated you more now that you were here, trying to be close to him once more. Your arm reached to it, your eyes yet unopened, spanking it a bit, hopeful that it would go away.

It didn’t.

It started going in and out of focus, as if something was tampering with it, or water had crawled in, making the switch to the next song sound as if it was coming from deep underwater, as if a wave had just engulfed the speaker.

“Fuck’s sake.” You complained through gritted teeth, grabbing it and holding it up, wiggling it a bit. As you did, the muffled sound went away, and the thing that should not be started playing.

You lowered the volume, and let the speaker sit next to your ear, letting it sing only for you.

It didn’t give you any trouble for a while, until it started acting up again. This time, the volume went up and down. At first you thought it was random, until you started paying attention. It seemed like a message, and grief invaded you enough to make you believe impossible things.

Your shaking hands grabbed it, pulling it a top of your lap, looking back at where his name was carved before whispering “Don’t fuck with me” as you played the backwards button. Letting the song start from the beginning once again. “I swear to god Eddie if you’re fucking with me I’ll kill you again.” You spat as you mumbled angrily at the air, hoping to be right.

To your astonished surprise, it seemed to work.

The volume went up, as if it was a code, as if he was screaming. If you were honest, you could feel him screaming and yelling the lyrics in that chaotic voice you learned to love and miss.

The very first word of the song spiked up messenger, it felt obvious enough, though it could just be a dumb coincidence. lurking beneath the sea made the volume go up, lowering immediately after it. You kept listening, writing it on the sketch pad you always carried in your bag.

Once the song ended, the previous blank paper had sparesed lyrics over it.

It read a confusing mess that you had to bring to Dustin as soon as possible. You recited it over and over again while you were speeding on the car.

The motor of your car was louder with every gear shift you made, the little orange arrow in your speedometer kept rising, but you payed it no mind. In a similar manner, you didn’t care if your car skidded anytime you made a left turn, the only thing in your mind where the little words you had heard louder than the others.

You didn’t care if your car blocked his driveway, or if the keys were still in the ignition. The bag on your left shoulder felt havier now that it was guarding the little instrument that felt magic. You hands where still shaking and you could stop fidgeting with his necklace, moving it one swipe left and two right as you made your way to Dustin’s front door, not sure what to say, not sure what to do. You were now anxiously looking down at your feet, and the way they moved through the cobblestone, the bumps that they left on your feet.

You gathered enough courage to bang on his door.

But he was taking a bit too long.

Bang

He still hadn’t come down stairs.

Bang Bang Bang Bang

“Jesus what?” He finally opened the door, the usual annoyed look on his face disappearing once he the way your lips were pressed together.

“Upstairs, now. Code red.”

“Can you read it again?” Dustin asked, a pen in his own hand.

“Messenger. Lurking beneath the sea. Forbidden site. Shadows. Underground. Fallen city, living death.” You looked at him, sharing a deep breath. “Then it repeats, Lurking beneath the sea, and ends with not dead”

Dustin stood up, pacing around his room while his hands fidgeted with the pen he had.

“And you’re sure it worked normally before you arrived at the grave?” He inquired, his words pausing between them as he usually did when he was trying to figure out something.

“Look I know it sounds stupid, but… I… It can’t be a coincidence.” He acknowledged just how hopeful and defeated you were, and he gifted you a smile.

“I wanna believe it too, I just, can I hear it now?” You nodded, while you took the little player out of the bag and played the song again. It sounded crystal clear, no interference, no change in volume. “And it changed volume once you were…”

“Yeah, I told you.”

“We should go there, I’ll ask the others to join us there.” He grabbed the talkie while he handed you the phone, letting you call into family video, the number already dialed up.

“Family Video this is Steve how may I help you today?” He sounded as bored as he always was, you could tell he was playing with the telephone chord.

“Steve, can you take your break now?” Your voice was quieter than usual, and that pulled him in, you heard how his elbows hit the table, and the receiver was caught between his cheek and his shoulder.

“Hey honey, everything okay?” His tone was sharper now, you felt the way he was measuring his words, he had become rather used to spreading kindness and handling you with care ever since you had come back, you had no time for that kind of nonsense right now.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m asking you to skip work in the middle of the day.” Your words were coming out sharper and colder than you intended for them to. Irony stinging like a dagger.

“A simple no would also work, y’know.” He answered, a bit hurt, but mostly worried. He knew the number was coming from Dustin’s house, and the only reason you had to go over his house was for one he didn’t dare to think about.

Mostly because the last time you had barged in with Dustin into Family Video he ended diving into cold water, and with a few scars to remember those days by.

“Can you take your break or not? We kinnda need both of you.” You were impatient now, you were speaking faster, snappier, quicker.

“What the hell is going on?” You could physically see him holding the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed while he loudly breathed out into the receiver.

“Steve! Please?” You were begging now, the frustration of wanting to let him know everything all at once, while trying to be careful to not say too much, the fear that someone might listen to you, the impotence of not being able to do enough, it was all enough to create tears that wouldn’t fall.

“Breathe out.” He reminded you. He didn’t know what was going on, or why you seemed to be so aggravated, but he could tell that it was important enough, a sense of urgency clear in your voice. He took a second, looking at Robin while his eyebrows raised she called the ‘the decision look’ and she knew better than to oppose it. “Is this a code red?” He finally asked, wanting and needing you to say no, his head falling deeper once he heard your muffled yes. “Where are we meeting?”

“Graveyard.” You answer quickly, the iron taste in the inside of your mouth becomes more prominent now that you are speaking again. “Pick Nance up.” You told him before hanging up.

You gave a quick glance over your shoulder to check on Dustin. His words were fast paced, he started the second one while the first was still finishing in his mouth, he had no time to lose, which in a weird way, was reassuring for you. Someone cared as deeply as you did, it made you feel not that alone, seen in a way.

You found your way downstairs, your feet feeling heavier and your chest tightening, a fast thought entered your mind, as it grew bigger so did the worry that accompanied it. What do we do if he is alive?

If Eddie really is alive, and he has been there, all by himself for the last weeks he must be pissed off. Not only that, as far as you remembered he was incredibly injured, so he could be right at death's door, a slip away from being actually gone. And if that was really the case, and he was bloodied, starving and a whisper away from death, you’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t at least just try, you had to try.

But then again, that panic was shared.

Dustin did not talk while you drove. He didn’t complain while you smoked one of his cigarettes that he had left on your glove compartment, he limited himself to stay still, biting his thumb as a response to the nervousness that was now deep inside his body.

You parked where you had a mere hour ago, and the birds sang until you found your way next to his gravestone. You looked at Dustin, needing reassurance, he just nodded. Weirdly enough, you were both in a lost for words.

You sat in silence, looking at his name with clear sandness in both of your faces, you hid a whimper, culpability making its way into your body.

“I feel insane.” You confessed as you buried your face into the palm of your hands. Needing just a second to process it all.

“You’re not the only one.” Dustin added, looking back as soon as he heard a familiar car pull into the secluded place you both were, he gave you a soft pad on your shoulder, his head nodding to it so you’d look.

Steve emerged from the burgundy car, closely followed by Robin, Nancy and Jonathan.

Robin’s eyebrows were raised in concern as she ran to where you were, she wasn’t a fiscal touch person, but lately she had been giving you hugs every chance she had, and this time it was no different. It felt familiar, a sense of reassurance you desperately needed.

“What’s going on?” She whispered into your ear, pulling away slowly, looking deep into your eyes. You waited for the other three to make their way up hill, Nancy’s knuckles were white with how much strength she was holding Jonathan’s hand.

“He’s alive.” Is all you could bring yourself to say, before breaking down.

You weren’t even sure why you were crying this time, maybe it just felt good to say it outloud, maybe it was just too much to manage, or maybe you just needed to relise your bottled up emotions. It didn’t matter.

Nancy’s eyes widened, as Jonathan looked at her, not really understanding why you’d say that. Meanwhile, Steve’s arms crossed in front of his chest, he was having a hard time following you.

“What are you talking about?” Steve’s voice was not only lower, his tone had never been as serious, not a trace or irony or sarcasm in them.

“Dustin?” You plead for help, you didn’t think you could manage to explain it all again. Your hands were busy fidgeting with the cassette player, tracing over the speaker, wishing that it would happen again.

“She uh… Well…” Dustin was having a hard time, the possibility that you might be right was a bit overpowering for him.

“I came over, and played him the new record.” You gestured to the empty cassette case with the white crosses on it, Robin picked it up and looked at it closely, smiling in that that’s sweet way that she does when she finds something charming. “And uh…”

“She says that the cassette player started going wild, the volume going up and down by itself, interference, water sound in it. But we played it again at my house and it sounds perfectly clear. And well… The words that were actually louder were like a call for help and if we look at this logically-” Steve cut the explanation that Dustin had started, a crease in the middle of his forehead.

“That’s insane. You’re seeing things where there are none.” He exclaimed, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“Steve…” Robin pleaded calmly, her eyes asking for him to consider the situation.

“It’s not!” You screamed. You needed them to understand, weirder things had happened to all of you in the last couple of years, this was nothing new. “Will was able to communicate with you!” You looked at Jonathan now, trying to make him understand, trying to win him to your side of the argument.

“Yeah but… He actually… It was his voice.” Jonathan mumbled, trying really hard to believe what you were saying, trying to see your side of the story, but the look of desperation on your face was too close to Joyce’s, and that gave him a bad feeling in his stomach.

“He’s alive.” You repeated, looking back at the way his name was carved into the gray stone, how long it took you to be able to accept it, and how it hopefully would be destroyed, as if it never had happened. “And he’s down there, alone, injured and with no strength, do you really think he’s going to start chatting?” With every word you said your tone became higher and higher.

“Look, there is no way he’s alive…” Steve’s voice sounded defeated as he crouched down, closer to your eye level as you were still sitting down at the floor. “We all saw him down there, bloodied and… I get that you want him back, but you shouldn’t make it our problem.” his cheeks were red, as the vein in his left temple became bigger with every breath he took.

“Your problem?” That made you lose it, it was one thing to not believe you, it was an entirely different thing to call you crazy and accuse you of being delusional. “You were the last one out, if he is alive, it’s your fault.” It had been like poison, hearing you say such things. You knew far too well that you were hurting him, his lips were pressed against each other, his left hand holding on thigh to his arm.

“Guys…” Robin tried to calm you both down, exchanging looks between the both of you, knowing full well this could blow everything up. Knowing that pain can be spread around faster than any disease.

But before she could say anything else, her ears perked up, as she heard the way the wind was rustling through the trees, she was a bit too sensitive to these kinds of things, over vigilant after everything she had seen.

“That’s way out of line…” Steve whispered, with clear guilt creeping in through his voice. “You know that if I could trade it… You know I don’t…” He was truly at a loss for words, not being sure what he could say, an extremely defeated expression rested on his face, his eyes avoiding eye contact with yours, looking at the ground, and the way the grass moved thanks to the wind.

“Guys!” Robin screamed at all of you now, as she picked out a rusting coming deep and low from the little player you were still holding.

Silence broke through all of you, as you looked down and started hearing the beginning of a song you hadn’t hit play for, the red light that usually shined bright when it was on was absent from it.

“Did you–?” Dustin started to ask, you shook your head, as a hopeful smile invaded your lips.

You went quiet, looking down at it, a guitar solo started, before you heard the tape playing backwards until the last phrase of the song was found, volume creeping louder and louder reaching out again could be heard from it, you let out a chuckle, a nervous giggle that went around the group as everyone had now experienced what had happened to you.

“What song is that?” Nancy asked directly at you, her face still in clear shock, mouthing the first words since she got here.

“Welcome home” You mutter, with glee in your eyes. “He is here.” You tell her, knowing that she fully believes you, by the way fear was creeping into her body.

“That could just be a coincidence…” Steve was still cautious, not wanting to fully give in. If he did, that meant that you were right, and that he left him for dead, and he couldn’t handle the guilt that came with it.

“Eddie!” Dustin started screaming, directly into the little player that you would not let go of, repeating his name with urgency. “Buddy, are you really there?”

“It’s changing again.” Robin pointed out, as her fingers traced a pattern on your leg, reassuring you that this was actually happening.

It was exactly as it had happened a few moments ago, when you were by yourself, as if water had creeped inside, mumbled and far away it sounded as the song changed to another one, before becoming crystal clear to your ears. The heavy thumping of the guitars starting again, quieting down before abruptly going up once the lyrics Twenty-one, only son, but he served us well could be heard.

You were tearing up now, and you weren’t even capable of hiding it any longer.

But panic came quick once you heard the next highlighted set of words.

Finished here, greeting death, he’s yours to take away

“What’s this one called?” Jonathan asked this time, his head whipping fastly from Nancy to you.

“Disposable Heroes.”

You wasted no time.

Dustin held on tight to his car seat every time your foot pressed the accelerator, everytime you swerved the car you could feel him holding his breath just for him to release it in a nervous manner.

They were all gathered around Steve's kitchen table, arguing over themselves.

You weren’t all there, the only thing going over your head was him, and the promise of actually being able to hear his voice once again.

Your foot kept on tapping the ground, a repetitive pattern that you weren’t able to stop, your hand still playing with his necklace. The chatter of them talking was overwhelming you, they were wasting time and that was infuriating. They were arguing, and you were frozen in the spot. They kept talking and you remained quiet.

Nancy sat down next to you, she still hadn’t said anything either.

Her hand traveled to yours, a top of your thigh. She squeezes your hand, you knew it was her way of telling you i’m here, i’m sorry.

“They’re wasting time.” You finally whispered, your voice hoarse, a trace of sadness in it.

“I don’t think I can go back.” She said at the same time, a trace of guilt in hers.

“You shouldn’t.” You reassured her, not only with your calm voice, but with the same squeeze she gave to your hand, now on her’s. You didn’t have to tell her that you planned on going alone, she had already noticed.

“You can’t.” She finally looked at you, deep into your eyes. You noticed the way her eye twitched before shaking his head. “We barely made it out of there, there’s no way you’ll make it by yourself, and having to carry Eddie or…”

“His body?” She snorted a laugh, trying hard not to giggle, thought the nervous laughter got you too. “This has to be one of the most insane days…” She nodded while you both laughed, catching your breath before she talked.

“I’m watching over you, I’ll stand at the gate. That I can do.” she stood there for a second longer, her lips pursed in that shy smile she usually gave people, the ones she actually cares about.

“Thanks Nance…” You let go of her hand, to give her a playful bump on her shoulder. She nodded as she saw you finally stand up.

Robin looked at you with curious eyes, as she saw you finally leaving the couch. She watched in a quiet manner as she saw you grab the car keys and put them in your pocket, and how you looked around as you put your hair up in a messy ponytail, bumps caused by shaky fingers. She only put her hand around Steve’s arm, her eyes still trained on you, once she saw you pocketing the vodka bottle and the old rag to light it up.

Steve looked at Robin first, following her eyesight until she saw you, trying to not look suspicious as the rag poked out of the pocket of your brown leather jacket.

You knew you were being caught as soon as you heard the sudden silence.

“Woah, woah, hey…Where do you think you’re going?” Steve pointed out, one hand on his waist as the other one gesticulated widely. Confusion and worry evident in the way he spoke, his voice coming up and down like a rollercoaster.

“What do you think?” The frustration was clear in the way you not only looked back at him, but in the way your words sting. “You’re wasting time…” You were now defeated, your hands now buried deep into your jacket pockets, fingers playing around with what you had in them, a way of distracting yourself.

“We’re not.” Dustin tried to make a point, though his furrowed brows read as sadness. “We need a plan, so we’re just trying to come up with one…”

“What plan? We go in, Nancy guards the door, we get him, we come back.” Your shoulders scrunch up as you simplified it all, their eyes switched from you to Nancy, who was still sat down at the sofa, a bit tenser than when you were beside her.

“Nance, you’re not coming?” Steve inquired, his whole body turning to face her from a distance.

“I… I can’t…” Her eyes crystalised as shock emanated from her body.

“She doesn’t have to, I’ll be with her, we’ll keep watch. Right?” Jonathan jumped in, reassuring Nancy, as Steve took a step back. “You’re not leaving my sight.” He whispered in her ear once he got by her side, their foreheads touching.

You smiled to yourself, a sweet moment between them. The world stopped for them, you could tell, and that’s exactly what you were craving right now, and worrying you might never get back.

“Fine, but we still don’t know how to get in.” Steve added, his arms flexing in front of his chest as he shook his head in defeat.

“Watergate.” You mutter.

“You’re insane.” Robin snapped as soon as she heard you, pausing in between words. “Even if we did manage to get down there and it was still open, how do you plan on coming back with him? What if there’s more rabies infected bats around? What if you get stuck there this time? We need to find another gate!” She was now talking in full speed, cascading words as her thoughts entered her mind.

“So we go to the woods!” You whine, frustration and impatience invade you once more.

“The woods?” Steve asked.

“She’s right.” Dustin added, his eyes finally leaving the ground shining as they did so. “Vecna killed Patrick and that created Watergate, so maybe there’s a gate near Fred’s death, like the one in the trailer…”

“What?” You questioned him as you saw him losing the train of thought. “We go to the woods and we get in and out, what’s wrong?”

“We killed Vecna, so the upside down should be collapsing since he isn’t alive and isn’t there to power it so…” He continued as he thought out loud.

“So what?” Steve asked as his voice went higher in tone.

“So it’s crumbling down.” Dustin pointed out as if it was overly obvious.

“So we have to go, now.” You said at the same time, heading to the door, no time to waste.

You heard their footsteps following you as you found your way to your car, you were finally getting somewhere.

You thought you would feel relieved once you saw you were right, what you weren’t expecting was your jaw to clench at the sight of the hidden gate.

It wasn’t big, it was small and weak.

The same thing that happened back in the graveyard started again. The wind picked up, hollowing through the trees replacing the chirping of the birds.

“Take care.” Nancy said with a trembling voice, while her hand was holding tightly with Jonathan’s.

Steve’s grip on his bat changed, firm and steady now, before twisting it a bit, readjusting it so he’d be more comfortable. Dustin’s hands fidgeted with the end of his jacket, patting his pockets checking once again that he wasn’t missing anything.

“If we’re not here in an hour, check in with El, she’s with the others guarding Max, but she should be able to…” Dustin recalled for the hundredth time, going over the plan he had been yelling about in the car drive over here.

“Yeah, one hour. Got it.” Jonathan nodded as he spoke, waving bye as you stepped in.

You just pressed your lips as you heard him.

If you only had an hour, you had to make it count. And it had to start now.

You had never just walked into the upside down. You had always fallen into it, so you didn’t have time to actually feel the veil breaking as your skin found its way in, the viscosity of the red hue, and the dryness that could be felt immediately after that. Your eyes slowly adjusted to the lack of colour and light, as you became hypervigilant, looking up at the sky before the others found their way.

Nothing.

There was absolutely nothing there.

A cloudless sunless grey sky welcomed you, with no thunder or lightning.

If anything, that nothingness was just more unnerving.

Every step they made echoed through, and made you look around, hoping to find something that would make you keep your hopes up.

You agreed on walking to the graveyard, if there was nothing there, you’d find your way to the trailer park and go back.

“Something’s weird.” Steve pointed out, as he looked around.

“Not weird, decaying.” You added, nodding to a grey crumbled up vine. The hole in it seemed to get deeper and bigger by the second.

“Quiet.” Robin said, as she looked up. “There’s no bats, no thunder either.”

“You can still trip though.” You told her as you held her from stepping into a fallen tree branch.

You walked, you weren’t really sure for how long, yet she was right, it was oddly beautiful now. A stuck in time version of Hawkins where nothing seemed to change, where everything looked as if it was straight out of an antique photograph you had found hidden in a cupboard.

You could see the iron gate from the cemetery, the bars on it starting to fold down, as if they were wilting flowers of an old bouquet. You felt as you collectively held in your breath.

It wasn’t long after that that you started hearing someone yelling unintelligible things.

While you were slowly making your way in, Eddie lied there.

He was right where you thought he’d be -unaware that you were near him- an empty space between gravestones, his body falling into the floor, exhausted from getting there, starving and malnourished. He had been talking nonsense for a while, he started whispering it into the heavens, until now, his voice was loud, and even if he didn’t intend to, panic found its way in it.

“Just one more song? Please? I need to know you’re there. I’ll sing along again if you want!” He had been looking at the void in the sky for a long time, he wasn’t sure if it had been an hour or two, to be honest, it felt like he had been there for days. “C’mon baby, please? Just a bit more, a guitar solo, or just… your voice would be nice…” He started begging now, pleading with some force he didn’t quite believe in for something that would indicate you’re there, near. “For fuck sake! I know I’ll die here, at least you could play some music while I do so!” Themix of desperation and tiredness was now getting into him, he looked at his hands and realised how his rings looked bigger, then now danced and moved with more ease. “Or just… Maybe if you light one up?”

At the same time, you started hearing his screams, and you started picking up the pace, running through the maze of granite carved stones, with different names and dates.

Dustin was the first to start screaming his name, while you just focused on running near where the voice came from.

You’d know it was him even if you hadn’t heard him in thirty years.

Adrenaline came over your body, so you rushed until your legs stopped, all of a sudden once you saw him.

He was there, his hand on his stomach, where blackened stains in his shirt layed wrinkled.

He was there, his hair laid perfectly still in a careful knotted mess.

He was there, his chest raised up and down as he breathed.

He was there, and he was alive.

“Moon…?” The nickname you had for him fell from your lips, your tone shaking as you still couldn’t believe it.

He slowly stood up, a grin of discomfort from pain evident in his face. He looked at you, his eyes barely opening up. He was still sitting on the ground, you felt your lips curving upwards as relief invaded you, seeing him smiling at you in recognition.

“Eddie?!” Dustin screamed as he ran up to him, falling to his knees as he hugged him, his head hitting his chest, Eddie’s arms slowly wrapped around his body. “I thought I… We lost you…” His voice was muffled, still you could tell he had started crying.

“I thought I lost you too.” Eddie’s voice trembled as he looked directly at you. His eyes crystalised once he saw the first tear jump from your eyes.

You felt Robin’s hand on your shoulder, a thigh squeeze letting you know it was real. He was okay, and you were getting him back.

She nodded, letting you know it was okay if you wanted to interrupt.

You walked slowly to him, the back of your hand wiping away your tears. You let your body hit the floor, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.

“Hi” You whispered as soon as you were a breath away from him.

“Hi” He gleamed back as soon as he got you close.

“You’re okay?” You asked, as your voice quivered, desperate to hear him again, talking directly to you.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He nodded as a trembling hand found the back of your neck.

Dustin smiled before stepping back, leaving you both alone for a moment, a much needed moment.

You gave in, melting into his arms. You were both crying quietly now, his hands stroking your hair politely, afraid that you were nothing but a mirage, while yours held on thigh to him, scared that you would cause him pain from needing that close.

“You scared me to death.” You half joked as you chuckled through the crying.

“I’m the one dying.” He added on to the joke, his lips finally kissing your temple, drinking your perfume in as he did so.

“Shut it.” You shake your head as you slowly pull back, your hand now cupping his cheek, as your thumb slowly graces the high points of his cheekbone. “I’m getting you home.”

You thought about kissing him, your lips touching his, melting completely under his touch. But once he leaned in to do so you saw how blood stained his shirt again, your eyes darted from his as you looked down, the red growing wider by the second.

Fear invaded your body again, a sense of urgency creeping over both of you.

“Yeah, we should really go” He grunted through gritted teeth.

It had been a blur.

Nancy grabbed your car keys from your hand, as you helped Eddie inside the car, sitting on the back with him. Cradling him as you talked to him, trying to keep him calm even if you were panicking deep inside.

Steve arrived at his house before you, opening the door wide open, Robin helping you bring Eddie in.

They were downstairs now, phoning Hopper, and El and finally Wayne.

Steve’s bedroom guest had a big window where sun creeped in, a soft breeze helping him cool off as cold sweat dripped from his forehead. You helped him lay on the soft mattress sitting next to him carefully.

You had enough supplies hidden under the bed, you knew you could stitch him up enough so he would stop hurting, you had enough experience patching people up.

“Can you take your shirt off?” You asked him with a slight raise of your eyebrows.

“You already want me naked?” He joked. He tended to do that when he got nervous. You tilted your head as you bent over so you could take the little box full of supplies out of underneath the bed. He chuckled once he saw the box in your hands. He started trying to take his jacket off, with a grunt in his face he shook his head. “I might need help.” He admitted, a grunt on the back of his throat.

“Thought so.” You muttered under your breath.

You scootched over to him, your trembling hands becoming steadier as they found the neck of his jacket, pulling it down slowly. At first, Eddie moved, tried to help. Once he felt your hands against his arms however, he stood still, his eyes not letting go of you, and the way your hands moved with such carefulness and tenderness.

The tips of your fingers were now in between his skin and his shirt, soaked in dirt and blood.

You looked at him before pulling it up, he nodded, his eyelids halved opened, a cautious smile in his lips. He sucked to his teeth as his skin separated from the stiff cloth, your fingers brushed his abdomen with care, avoiding to trace his skin as soon as you saw the grin of discomfort he had on his lips. His arms ached once they were up in the air, the shirt falling off of them slowly.

“It looks worse than I thought.” Eddie grunted as he finally looked down. You guided his torso against the cushions that were prepped up, his hand lingered to your arms, the tip of his fingers burrowing into your skin.

“I’ll clean it up, I’m sure it’s not that bad.” You tried to play it off, a kind smile curved your lips upwards, a little gesture he imitated.

“You must really like me” He started in a soft whisper. “You keep lying trying to make it all better.”

You laughed it off, a short chuckle coming out of him. You started soaking the cotton swab with alcohol, the odor of it filling the small gap between the both of you.

“You know I do.” He smiled in a soft manner, his teeth showing as he tilted his head. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

You smiled kindly before starting to clean his wounds. They were as if someone ripped and crumpled a paper sheet. They weren’t deep, just repetitive bite and claw marks over the same spot. The big one was on his lower abdomen, another one near his collarbone, a gash on his neck. His arms were full of scratches and deep cuts you had to keep clean.

He didn’t complain. He just let you do whatever you thought you had to, deep down he knew that if he let you take care of him, you’d feel better. And if he was being honest with himself, he enjoyed you dotting and caring for him, you knew it was because he won’t trust anyone else but you.

“You know you could just wait for Hopper to come right? He’ll probably make me go to a hospital or something.” He whispered in an attempt to get you to look back at him, his eyes not leaving yours.

“I know, I just…”

“I’m okay.” He started, reassuring you, trying to get you to stop overcleaning the same spot on his chest. “Hey.” You kept overdoing it, a blank look on your face. “Darling, please…” He begged now, the way his lips said the nickname snapping you out of it.

“I thought you were dead.” You crumbled down, nervous tears threatening to jump out, your lips quivering as you started to talk. “I thought you were gone, Moon…”

“I’m not.” He reached out, his hand finally holding yours. “You really think it’s going to be that easy? You’re not getting rid of me.”

“I buried you… Well there was nothing in there but… I just.”

“I know, I heard you and Wayne talking.” He confessed, his eyes changing, now they were full of melancholy, and a hint of guilt. “I’m sorry by the way…”

“What the fuck are you on?” The words fell right out of your lips, tilting your head as your tone went higher.

“I just… I heard you crying. Begging and all that. I’m sorry I almost died and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything I wanted to, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you before, I’m sorry I left I-” You interrupted him, as soon as you heard the big word. Your hand tightening around his.

“You do?”

“I do what?” He tried to brush it off, the confession had fallen out of his mouth without him thinking too much about it.

“Love me?” You were embarrassed by how hopeful you sound. His free hand travelled to your cheek, slowly stroking it as he looked deeply into your eyes, falling deeply into them.

You gave in, your head now resting in the palm of his hand, he slowly pulled you closer to him. Finally closing the distance between the both of you, slowly, then all at once. His lips met yours, a smile appearing on both of them. It was a careful kiss, a needy and soft kiss. It said more things than you both could ever tell eachother. His lips begged for yours to never leave him again, to let him stay by your side. Yours were yelling for him to be patient, and let you love him in a quiet and slow manner.

You pulled away slowly, your forehead touching his.

You both knew each other understood. Still, he whispered low enough for you to barely hear him, right before you were interrupted by the door opening. “Of course I do.”

“Happy you’re back kid.” Hopper’s voice interrupted the both of you, moving your heads so you could look at him. “I’m sorry but you’ll have to answer a couple of questions, then go to the hospital”

“Stay?” Eddie asked, a promise in his voice.

“Yes. For as long as you let me.”

He kissed the tip of your nose, before talking again.

“Forever then.”

232 notes · View notes

ijustwanttoreadfanfiction · 2 years ago

Text

Friendly Sex - Chapter 1 - The Party

Eddie Munson X AFAB!Reader

Your 6 year long unrequited crush on Steve Harrington is starting to wear thin, and after discovering Eddie Munson feels the same way about Chrissy Cunningham you decide to make a pact. After all, what's the harm in a little casual sex between friends?

A/N: Story opens April 1986. Slight AU, all the events of seasons 1, 2 and 3 happened, except Hopper didn't get transported to Russia, the gate was closed and Joyce, Hopper, Jonathan, Will and Jane all move to California as one big happy family. Jonathan and Nancy break up (necessary for plot, apologies to any shippers). Nancy and Steve are together. Reader is 18 and in final year at Hawkin's High School, alongside Robin and Eddie etc. Reader works at Family Video with Robin & Steve. Vecna storyline is not a thing, strange things will not be happening. This has been festering in my brain and I don't know what to do with it, so, tada!

Warnings: NSFW. SMUT, (MDI) 18+ only, drugs, sex, alcohol, underage drinking, public sex, dirty talk, name calling in sex (consensual), explicit language, adult themes, there will be angst, it will get messy.

More warnings to be added.

Revised edition.

************************************************************************

It was Robin’s idea to go to the party, one of those let’s have a party for the sake of having a party, parties, the all American standard, under-age keg fest.

It was an unwelcome change from your regularly scheduled Saturday night plans of doing nothing.

But argue as you might, Robin had made it clear you were going, even if she had to drag you.

"I'm tired of watching your ass wallow in self-pity." She said in true blunt Robin fashion, pulling outfit after outfit out of your closet, throwing them haphazardly in your general direction.

"I thought you loved watching my ass." You bite back, holding up a rust-coloured corduroy mini skirt to your hips.

"Ha, ha. I'm serious though dude, this whole moping Minnie routine is getting old, you just need to get out there and get yourself laid." She groans, pushing past you, flopping face first onto your bed in frustration.

"The skirt looks good, you should wear it with your tan knee highs." She adds, laying on her front to look at you.

"I'm working on it Rob." You grumble, fishing your boots out from under a pile of clothes. "It's not easy to let go of a 6 year crush you know."

"Well maybe if you had made a move 6 years ago, we wouldn't be in this mess." She huffs in exaggeration.

"Gee, you're right, let me just hop in my time machine, go back and tell my 12-year-old self to man up and ask out Steve Harrington. Huzzah!" You quip dryly, yanking the zipper of your boots up none too gently.

"Honestly Harrington has a lot to answer for, it's like the women of Hawkin's see him and suddenly all rational thought disappears." Robin laughs.

"It's the hair." You agree, fluffing up your own in the mirror. "And only the great Robin Buckley, lesbian superheroine, is immune to its hypnotic powers."

"Then I must use my powers for good!" She declares in a manly tone, hauling herself off the bed to wrap her arms around your shoulders. "My mission, gentle citizen, is to break the spell cast over you." She places a wet kiss on your cheek casting an appraising eye over your finished ensemble. "Very hot."

***

It's not that you disliked parties, after all it was a time honoured tradition to go to some random person's house whilst their parents where out of town and get absolutely wasted, chintzy picture perfect living rooms suddenly overrun with overactive hormones, sweaty bodies and dubious punch bowls, however after the initial buzz wore off you usually found yourself longing for the quiet solitude of your bedroom. Of course, when you express this to Robin, after half an hour of being there, she merely rolls her eyes in disgust, thrusting another cup of mystery alcohol in your hand, ushering you back into the throng of young adults.

"Would you stop?" She implores, holding your left shoulder with her free hand. "Your problem is you think too much. So, give those little grey cells a break by killing some of them off." She lifts her own drink in a mock toast, nodding at you to do the same.

"You are a terrible friend." You relent with a laugh, toasting quickly and taking a gulp, face scrunched up in distaste as the alcohol burns your throat.

"The very worst." She says with an evil grin, which fades somewhat as she focuses on something behind you. You turn towards the source, and despite knowing what you would see, your stomach still swoops uncomfortably at the sight of Steve or more precisely Steve with his arm wrapped around Nancy Wheeler looking incredibly loved up. "Shit." Robin declares.

"Shit." You agree flatly.

You move to go back towards the kitchen, but Robin takes your hand, holding you in place, Steve having already spotted you both, his own hand thrown up in greeting, weaving through the crowd with Nancy in tow.

"Fancy seeing you fine ladies here." Steve grins broadly, leaning in to give each of you a one-armed hug, your skin burning from his touch.

"Fancy that." Robin agrees sheepishly, you get a grim sense of satisfaction at the uncomfortable look on her face.

Nancy, who had been hanging off of Steve's free arm for the majority, leans forward to speak to you over the pounding music. "I love your skirt Y/n." She smiles sweetly; and you feel the rather irrational urge to stick pins in her bright blue eyes.

"Thanks Nancy." You call back, trying to return her smile. "I- uh -I like your bracelet." You say, noticing a golden glimmer on her wrist, plastering on the enthusiasm.

Nancy, being an actual angel, flushes with pleasure at your compliment. "Steve bought it for me." She sighs, toying with the gold bangle,

and you try not to urge as they share a sickening saccharine look.

"Of course he did." You mutter grudgingly to yourself, desperately wanting to escape.

"What did you say Y/n?" Steve asks absent-mindedly, still gazing at Nancy.

"I'm gonna grab another drink." You say in a clearer voice, not that it mattered, because at that moment Steve seemed to find a very interesting spot on Nancy's neck that required the immediate attention of his mouth. Grimacing you slip past them, purposely ignoring Robin's pleading calls for a top up and/or a sick bucket.

Reaching the kitchen, you chug a cup of punch straight off, before refilling it to the brim, whilst you knew alcohol wouldn't solve your problems it could certainly try and soothe the jealous beast currently roaring in your head at the human octopus that was Stancy.

Deciding the garden was the best place to avoid a front row seat to the lovefest, you steer your body around bumping and grinding couples, careful not to spill a drop of your precious emotional medicine. The backyard to your pleasant surprise is empty, the party having not yet spilled out, and the chilly night air was a welcome contrast to the stale humidity inside. You wander out onto the pristine lawn, and find yourself releasing a breath you didn't realize you had been holding, ears ringing slightly as they adjusted to the now muffled thumping bass.

"Well, well, well what brings you out here Sweetheart?"

You groan heavily at the teasing drawl behind you.

"I was trying to get some peace and quiet, but that's not likely to happen with you around, is it Munson?" You sigh, turning to face Eddie Munson who was perched on a swing set to the far right, slightly obscured in semi-darkness, but a Cheshire cat grin clearly plastered on his face.

"Ouch, you wound me." He says, placing a dramatic hand over his heart, still grinning away like an idiot. "Seriously though, I wouldn't have pegged you for this kinda gig." He gestures with his head back towards the party.

"It was Robin's idea." You mutter darkly, glaring towards the shut French doors.

"Well, if looks could kill, I'm guessing you'll have a best friend vacancy by this time tomorrow." He laughs again, which irritates you further.

"What are you doing here?" You deflect back, hiccupping slightly as you drink some more punch. "Place is like jock city in there, hardly your regular stomping ground either."

He nudges a battered black tin lunch-box with his foot, slightly tucked under the swing. "You know me sweetheart, got a business to run, empires to build, horizons to expand." He says with the usual Eddie flair.

"Dealing drugs to inebriated teens, I should've guessed." You say wryly, rolling your eyes.

"You make it sound so dirty." He mocks you, irritating smirk still fixed. "And you've never complained before." He reminds you pointedly.

Whilst far from being a hardcore user, you were a semi- frequent customer of Eddie's when it came to weed, finding him to be discreet, reliable and most importantly for your minimum wage ass, cheap.

"Well maybe I'm in the mood to complain tonight," You mutter suddenly feeling bitter about the way the night had gone downhill so quickly, scuffing your boot into the neatly trimmed grass.

Eddie leans down to extract something from his tin.

"Joint for your thoughts?" He offers, holding out a perfectly rolled spliff, quickly adding. "No charge." You mull it over for all of 2 seconds, concluding your jealous inner demon will not be calmed by alcohol alone.

"'Atta girl!" He calls happily as you stomp over to squeeze beside him, he pats your knee in encouragement, then lights up, graciously passing you the joint for the first drag which you take gratefully.

You both sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, offering the smoke back and forth. You could tell straight away that the weed was a much higher quality than you could ever normally afford and therefore hoped its soothing effects would kick in a lot quicker.

"Soooo," Eddie gently ventures after a few more minutes, "you wanna walk about it?"

"What's there to talk about, I'm in love with a guy who is in love with someone else." You shrug on a heavy exhale.

Eddie whistles between his teeth, regarding you carefully as you take another hit.

"Ah, that old cliche huh?" He nudges you lightly, taking the joint back for his turn.

Now Eddie had said it, you couldn't help but laugh in agreement.

"I guess it is pretty clichéd."

"Yup no points for originality this time princess. So, who's Captain Oblivious?" He asks, offering you another hit, shaking your head you opt to take a swig of alcohol, mentally bracing yourself for Eddie's inevitable teasing.

"Steve Harrington." You sigh glumly into your cup.

Eddie let out a muttered "Damn."

"The former King of Hawkin's High himself. I don't envy you there babe."

You snatch the joint back from his ringed fingertips, fed up with his teasing. "Don't take the piss Eddie, I'm not in the mood." You mumble defensively, leaning forward so as not to see the smirk on his face.

"Hey." He says in a surprisingly genuine tone, his hand rubbing your back, making you turn to look at him. "I'm not ragging on you sweetheart. Harrington is a nice enough guy now he's not hanging out with the douchebag brigade. I can see why you'd like him."

You lean back and Eddie slips his arm around your shoulders.

"Well, I'm glad you can see it, he doesn't even know I exist, at least not in the way I want him to." You sigh, resting your head on his arm, seeing off the last of your drink and feeling distinctly sorry for yourself.

You both lapse into silence again, the swing swaying gently beneath you as you burn through more of the joint , somewhere inside the house voices were shouting "Keg! Keg! Keg!"

After a few moments, Eddie shifts slightly, arm wrapping more securely around you.

"Can I tell you something?" He asks, sounding nervous.

"I mean I just bared my soul to you, so I guess it's only fair." You murmur, glancing up at him.

He breathes a heavy sigh, right leg jiggling.

"I have been head over heels in love with Chrissy Cunningham since middle school." He confesses with a wince.

You wanted to say something encouraging, maybe even profound, or at the very least offer some words of comfort, so you felt a little guilty when you couldn't suppress the giggle that passed your lips.

"Chrissy Cunningham?!" You exclaim, staring at him wide-eyed "Cheerleader extraordinaire, Chrissy Cunningham?"

He looks at you, lips pressed tight as though he was trying to hold back his own laughter.

"Yep." Letting the 'p' pop. "Ever since she shook her pom-poms in the talent show."

You were barely holding it together, attempting to keep your voice level as you spoke.

"Wait, wait. So not only are we both in love with two very attractive people who are waaaay out of our league, these people are also in long term committed relationships with two other very attractive people."

Your statement hung in the air for a second, both of you then erupting into fits of laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Eddie chuckled throatily around the stub of the joint, almost burnt out. "Oh man, we are pathetic." Shaking his head.

You jam your elbow lightly into his ribs. "Hey, speak for yourself!" You jokingly admonish.

"What, you think you have a chance?" He snorts incredulously.

You pretend to weigh up your options.

"If Nancy Wheeler gets hit by a bus, sure I'll shoot my shot… after an extended mourning period of course." You say.

"Of course." Eddie agrees, both of you collapsing into fits of uncontrollable giggles once more, fuelled on by excessive alcohol and weed.

"So, what do you think you need to do to get over little old Stevie?" Eddie asks you somewhat more seriously, stamping the remainder of the joint out under his sneakers, leaning back against the swing, taking you under his arm again.

You shrug, settling comfortably against him, staring up at the night sky, your own arm wrapping lightly about his waist. "Robin says I just need to get laid." You sigh flatly.

"I mean it's not the worst suggestion in the world." He says reasonably.

"Yeah, but c'mon Munson, guys aren't exactly queued around the block waiting to give me a service." You say, gesturing to the empty garden, Eddie pulling a face at your phrasing.

"Maybe that's because you've spent the past however many years with your Harrington blinkers on." He suggests, and it hits a nerve within you, quite often you wondered if you had missed opportunities with other guys because of your Harrington fixation. Your first and thus far only proper relationship, at 16 ,was doomed to fail from the start as Bobby Cooper just couldn't live up to the standards you had set in your daydreams of Steve.

"Well, what about you and your Chrissy conundrum? Your on-tap supply of groupies not helping to ease the pain?" You bite back, on the defensive.

Rather than get shitty with you, Eddie just gives you the classic Munson smirk.

"You think I’m good enough to have groupies?" He teases, squeezing your side, with a saucy eyebrow raise.

You pinch him back playfully. "I've seen you play Eddie; you know you're good." You admit with a smile.

He heaves a dramatic sigh, hand to his brow like some wretchedly poor southern belle.

"And yet, the tour bus-"

"Your van?" You chip in snidely.

"-my van" He ruefully concedes "is decidedly empty, even with the new air freshener."

"It's a crying shame, Eds." You laugh, patting his cheek.

He places an affectionate kiss on your head, cuddling you closer against the chilly breeze, it feels nice to be held, and even nicer to talk to someone so openly, other than Robin of course.

You lapse into comfortable silence once more, the strains of some Blondie song thumping from inside, the party was kicking up a gear but you found yourself lost in thought.

You had always had a soft spot for Eddie, conversation flowed easily enough, and you appreciated his dry sense of humour, both of you were regular outcasts in comparison to rest of the high school cliques, and you had found yourselves in detention together more times than you cared to count; you had a bad habit of disagreeing with your English teacher. And if you were being honest, he was actually really kind of pretty when you took the time to really look at him, chocolate brown eyes, full lips, awesome hair.

You hadn't realised you had been staring at him until he cleared his throat, you pulled away from his arms sheepishly, cheeks aflame from the embarrassment of being caught out, but feeling sure Eddie had been staring at you for the same amount of time.

"Uh- sweetheart, and by all means please let me know if I have completely misread some signals here, but I think I may have found the solution to both our problems." It surprised you to hear a note of uncertainty in his voice, particularly as Eddie was normally shockingly cavalier to a fault, it made you turn back to face him.

"Go on…" You encouraged him, finding your mouth oddly dry.

He took a deep breath, leaning closer, his arm snaking about your waist, warm fingertips tracing absentmindedly across the inch of exposed skin between your skirt and top, goose pimples erupting that made a shiver run up your spine.

"You need to get laid." He stated. "I need to get laid. We both have stuff we need to get out of our systems. You're a stand-up girl," he gave you a courteous nod. "...and I think I'm correct in saying you find me tolerable at the very least." The uncertainty was back, steeling yourself you placed a hand on his denim clad knee giving him a squeeze.

"More than tolerable Eds." You offer a smile.

"Thanks sweetheart." He mutters blushing. "So, uh anyway, what I'm trying to say here is… in a pretty roundabout way and you can of course say no-"

"Eddie"

"Sorry, rambling, what I'm trying to say is we could… help each other out?" He was staring at you, pleading with you to chime in.

"You mean sex?" You ask slowly, noticing his blush creep up to his ears.

"Uh, y-yeah that thing." He stammers. "If you wanted to, with me, we could have sex as friends every now and then, friendly sex."

You glanced at your wristwatch, 26 minutes ago you came out into the garden of some unknown person seeking a quiet place to drown your Steve induced sorrows, and now you were sitting next to Eddie Munson, seriously considering his offer of 'friendly sex'. Maybe Robin's kiss from earlier really had broken a spell, you laughed aloud at the thought, mirth quickly turning to frantic apologies at the look of horror on Eddie's face, forgetting that he was not privy to your inner monologue.

"Oh my god Eddie, no I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you!' You cried, cringing at your own social ineptitude.

"Hey, it's ok honey, I told you, it's cool if you don't want to-" His tone was calm, patting your side, making to stand and walk away with what little dignity he had left.

"NO! Don't go, I do want to!" You let out a shout, grasping his arm to pull him back down, your face burning in mortification that you essentially just begged Eddie to fuck you.

"Alright sweetheart, calm down I'm not going anywhere, no need to shout." He soothed; devil- may-care smirk back in place, holding you firmly about the waist again. You tried to turn away at his teasing, but Eddie cupped your cheek, the numerous rings on his fingers cool against your prickling skin.

"I'm going to kiss you now." His voice low and surprisingly authoritative. "Ok?" He asks, inching closer to your lips. Unsure if you had the nerve to speak, you merely nod. "Use your words princess, I need you to tell me that it's ok for me to kiss you." He teased; lips just shy of brushing against yours.

"I-it's ok, kiss me, please." You whisper, hands fisted in his jacket, pulling him in to close the final gap.

Eddie surged forward with an urgency that made you gasp, kissing you hard, your teeth clacking together painfully but you didn't care, adrenaline coursing through your veins like rocket fuel. You quickly found the right rhythm for each other kissing back with equal enthusiasm, his grip tightened moving you to straddle his lap, with you kneeling. He kneaded your ass, grinding you down, you gasped feeling the hard outline of his dick, taking full advantage of your open mouth, his tongue slipping in to meet with yours. Releasing his jacket, you tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging harder than intended as Eddie nipped at your bottom lip, but he hardly seemed to care judging by the groan that escaped his throat. You smirked, tucking the knowledge away for later use, Eddie also appeared to be mentally cataloguing your reactions, like the way your hips rocked involuntarily as he sucked your neck just below your right ear, and how your breath hitched whilst he felt you up under your shirt, brushing the underside of your breast.

So lost in each other you didn't notice the sudden increase in noise coming from the party, signalling that someone had opened the screen door, it was the violent retching sound of vomiting that had you jumping apart as though you had been electrocuted, scrambling off Eddie's lap. You grimaced in disgust, Chance from the High School basketball team spewing chunks over the once pristine lawn, to the jeers of others inside.

"Hey…" Eddie spoke breathlessly, pulling your attention back to him, his lips kiss bitten, pupils blown wide. "You uh, want to get out of here?"

Grinning you snatched up his hand pulling him none too gently in the direction of the back gate, the sound of Chance's digestive pyrotechnics mercifully fading away, Eddie now pulling you along in the opposite direction to the house.

My van is this way."

Your heels clacked against the concrete, the pair of you moving at a light jog, keen to pick where you left off, both breathless as you came up on Eddie's van.

"Your chariot milady." He gestured proudly to the beat up vehicle like it was Cinderella's magical pumpkin carriage.

"Eddie, calling me milady is a total turn off." You teased, nose wrinkling.

He pulled you to him, spinning you so your back was pressed against the passenger side door,

"Oh well in that case, I best stick to sweetheart, huh sweetheart?" Caging you, his smile almost predatory as he set to work sucking what would no doubt be a prize-winning hickey just above your throat.

You grabbed the scruff of his neck when the skin got too sensitive, pulling his lips back to yours, both of you fighting for dominance in the kiss, thoroughly making out. Eddie palmed your tits, as you reached down trailing a teasing hand along the bulge in his jeans, he broke the kiss huffing out a low "Shit…."

Feeling bold, you flashed him a mischievous grin, unbuckling his belt, your hand slipping inside the tight denim stroking his cock properly, he was fully hard, your thumb swiping a thick bead of pre-cum around the mushroomy head.

"You keep doing that sweetheart and I’ll have no choice but to fuck you right here in the street." Eddie panted against your neck, his words going straight to your cunt.

"Promises, promises." You said with a purr, jerking him slowly.

He laughed breathlessly. "Fucking tease." His hands quickly hitching up your skirt, hips pressing you closer to the van, slipping your panties to the side, you gasped as he trailed a finger through your wetness up to your clit and back down again.

"Jesus baby, you're soaked. All this for me?" He asks incredulously, kissing you deeply again, two fingers moving slowly pumping in and out of your cunt as his thumb plays with your clit. The pair of you working each other, quiet moans slipping past swollen lips

"Eddie." You whined softly, there was a tiny voice in the back of your mind which was terrified about getting caught in such a compromising position, but a much louder voice was screaming, begging to let Eddie have his way with you in the street where anyone could see.

"What is it princess?" He murmured, biting at your lower lip.

"I want -" You hiccupped on a moan, all four of his fingers now working over your swollen clit, spreading the slick from your cunt, you could only hold his cock, brain not functioning enough under his ministrations.

Grinning, taunting you openly he nipped at the sweet spot under your ear, whispering "Use your words baby."

"Oh my god." You whimpered. The screaming in your brain reaching a fever pitch; you wanted him to fuck you, right now, you didn't care if you got caught. "Eddie, do it, fuck me, fuck me right here." You say frantically, his movements stilling in shock.

"You sure sweetheart? I-I can wait, we don't have to do anything you don't wanna-" He cut off, watching as though in a trance, you turned yourself around, pushing your ass out toward him, in the dim streetlight your pussy glistened with wetness all swollen and pretty.

"Ho-ly fuck." He breathed out in awe, fishing hurriedly for a condom in his jacket pocket. You were breathing hard against the passenger window, watching Eddie's reflection, staring, cheeks flushed with excitement and lust as he yanked his jeans and boxers down enough to free his length, panting as he rolled the condom on. Coming up behind you, he crowded you against the van once again, his body covering your back, feeling his cock line up with your entrance; shivering at the slow press and delicious stinging sensation as he worked his way in.

"Christ you're so fucking tight baby." He hissed, balls flush to your ass as he bottomed out, one hand coming up to play with your tits, the other bracing against the van as he started to thrust.

"Eddie…fuck." You choked out, rubbing at your sopping clit, you were already so close, bouncing your hips back against him as he thrust harder.

"Oh my fucking god, you're perfect, so fucking tight and perfect. I can feel you dripping on my balls." He groaned, grabbing your hair, turning your head to capture your lips in a frantic kiss, you keened into his mouth. He was pulling your top up, freeing your breasts, pinching at your puckered nipples, his other arm wrapping tight around your middle, holding you steady, pounding deeper.

It was lewd, it was indecent, it was sinful and you had never felt so alive.

"Eds, Eddie, I'm - fuck I'm fucking close, please." You begged, pleading, hovering over the edge, heat swimming deep in your belly.

"Oh shit, yes, such a good girl." You could hear he was close, the words passing through gritted teeth. "Taking this cock so well. You wanna cum baby?"

"Yes." You whined desperately, the coil within you tightening. "Please, I wanna cum so bad, fuck me harder."

You didn't know where the words were coming from, had never felt this pent up, never craved sex this way before.

Eddie's balls were slapping against you in a faster rhythm, the sound penetrating the otherwise still night air.

"Fucking hell baby, yes take it, so fucking good - shit - that's it fucking cum for me sweetheart. Cum-on-my-cock-you-little-fucking-slut." He punctuated each word with brutal thrusts and at the word slut you felt the dam break, wave after wave of throbbing pleasure seized your body, head thrown back in a wordless cry, spasming around his dick.

"Shit,shit,shit,fuck,fuck." Eddie was chanting in a low whine, hips stilling against you, even with the condom on you could feel the pulse of him cumming.

You both stayed perfectly still for a moment, your shared heavy breathing the only sound now.

"That was… holy fuck that was…" Eddie muttered leaning heavily against your shoulder, you clung onto the side mirror for support, legs feeling like jelly.

"Uh huh." You agreed breathlessly, you felt his hand on your back rubbing soothingly, unable to stop yourself from hissing as he pulled out, gently righting your panties for you and pressing a fleeting kiss to the back of your neck.

It was a remarkably sweet gesture, particularly in stark contrast to your position moments before, you tugged your top down, and skirt back up leaning against the van with a heavy exhale. Eddie had tucked himself away, and was now busy tying the condom off, stepping into the road to drop it unceremoniously down a gap in a drain cover, your face scrunched in distaste at the action.

"Giving the swimmers a new lease of life." He said winking impishly.

"I'm sure the sewer rats will be ever so pleased." You deadpanned.

You were unsure what the plan was now, should you go your separate ways, you back to the party, him to - well wherever Eddie spent Saturday nights?

Returning to the party felt like a hellish idea, not just because you probably looked like you had just had sex, which you had, but you'd also have to face Steve and Nancy and whilst you now seemingly had the option of sex on tap, emotionally your heart still very much belonged to Harrington. Also you had the beginnings of a headache no doubt from the toxic punch.

"Uh- sweetheart you in there?" Eddie asked you, waving his hand in front of you, evidently you had zoned out.

"Huh?"

"I was talking about milkshakes."

'Milkshakes?" You repeatedly blankly.

"Yeah, ya know, you take the milk, you take the shake you take them both and then you have the facts of life." He said moving past you, opening the passenger door.

You just stared vacantly.

"Oh my god I fucked the intelligence out of you." He giggled, ducking to one side as you tried to punch him in the arm, catching your hand he pulled you to him.

"Sweetheart I would very much like it if you would accompany me to a diner where we can have milkshakes and discuss the intimate details of our little arrangement." He clarified, gesturing for you to get into the van.

"Details?" You ask cluelessly, clambering into the seat, maybe he had fucked you dumb.

"Details." Eddie cooed, tapping you on the nose and strapping you in like a child, before handing you his drug box and slamming the door.

You were unsure whether to be amused or concerned at how he skipped to his own driver's side, lighting a cigarette.

"Eddie, what exactly are we doing?" You ask, completely exasperated. He revved the engine, jamming the play button on the car radio, head banging along to Ace of Spades - Motorhead for a few moments.

"EDDIE!" You yell over the music impatiently.

"You and I are making a pact princess" Flashing you a huge grin before peeling down the street.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson 18+#strangers things eddie munson #reader insert #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

397 notes · View notes