#eddie munson x deaf!reader

[ashwhowrites]

Would it be okay if you could write deaf!reader x Eddie where she’s new at school and meets Eddie. The rest can be up to you. Thank you xxx

I have never written a deaf character before so the representation might be off, but I gave it a shot! I know in movies and shows, sometimes they can talk and sometimes it is just sign language, but I went with writing notes to make it romantic. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

I wrote a scene with a guitar amp and it was so hard to keep this story sweet and fluff and not turn it into smut

No words

It didn't take long for the new girl to catch Eddie's eyes. She was cute and seemed to be in her own little world. Eddie admired that she never seemed to care what happened around her.

He wanted to talk to her, but he wasn't the best at making a first impression. He wasn't the best at saying what he meant out loud. He was a writer. He wrote countless songs because he knew how to write down his feelings, not say them.

She was in a few of his classes, and he sat behind her. He watched as she walked into class, admiring her style. He assumed she was shy since she never spoke. She sat silently in class and kept to herself.

Eddie ripped out a piece of paper from a notebook he never touched. He scrambled down a message, then folded it. He took a deep breath and reached forward to tap her on the shoulder.

She turned around confused. She looked as the boy handed her something. She grabbed the note as she examined him.

He was mad cute. He had dark curly long hair, warm brown eyes, and pink lips. He wore a red and black flannel with dark jeans and dirty sneakers. She wished she could just stare but she didn't want to be creepy. She turned around and unfolded the paper.

"I'm Eddie, what's your name?"

She smiled to herself as she wrote her name underneath his. With a smile. She turned around and handed it back to him.

Eddie was shocked she wrote back to him. Before he could stare at her any longer, she turned around. Finally being that close to her face he realized she was prettier than ever.

His stomach fluttered as he saw her name and a tiny smile. Pleased that she didn't ignore him or write a mean message back.

"Well Y/N welcome to Hawkins High School. It sucks ass. The town is a little better, if you want a tour or anything I'm available."

She smiled as she felt a tap on her shoulder again, the teacher focused on the board as she turned. Her face burned as her fingers touched his as she took the note.

Eddie watched as her body moved up and down as she shook her head. He smiled as it seemed like she was laughing to herself. She felt nervous about saying yes, but she also didn't want to say no.

"Only if you promise to show me a great burger place ;)"

She waited until the teacher wasn't paying attention as she turned around and gave him the note. She turned around fast and Eddie opened it. He smiled and patted himself on the back.

The bell rang and she began to pack up. Eddie took a deep breath and walked in front of her desk.

"Hey Y/N," she looked up as she felt his presence. She focused on his lips. "Want to go after school today?"

She smiled and nodded

"Sweet, I'll meet you at the front?" he asked, he felt his face burn as she leaned close and stared at his lips. Her eyes squinted as she fully focused.

She nodded and smiled again. Waving goodbye as she walked to her next class.

~

Eddie waited outside the front door. He was nervous but excited. Befriending the new kid wasn't something Eddie ever did, but there was something about her that he wanted to know.

He smiled as she came into view, she waved as she got closer.

They didn't talk as they headed to his van. A couple students whispered as the two passed. And some students began to yell "FREAK!"

He felt comforted by the fact she didn't seem to notice it. And if she did, she ignored it.

Eddie started the van and turned down his radio, he remembered how loud he had it blaring this morning. He smiled over at her and she smiled back.

~

It didn't take long to make it to the burger place. The ride was a tad awkward as she didn't really talk, it more was of Eddie talking to himself.

They got seated in a booth, Eddie sat across from her as he nervously flipped through the menu.

He felt a soft tap on his menu, and he looked up.

Y/N smiled as she handed him a piece of paper.

He took the paper and read it, his eyebrows scrunched.

"I should probably tell you that I am deaf, so I'll be staring at your lips to communicate with you. Also, can you order for me?"

Eddie smiled and nodded. He snatched her pen and quickly wrote his own message.

She happily read it as he wrote

"No problem, I've been told I talk too much so maybe you not hearing me talk is a win. I will order for you, what would you like?"

Her heart raced as he moved on from the topic like it didn't change anything.

"Bacon cheeseburger, fries, and chocolate shake. Thank you for this, I'm excited to get to know you better and would love to watch you talk for hours :)"

~~~

The first date went amazing in Eddie's eyes. He didn't mind writing down his words, he enjoyed watching her reactions as she read the words. They ate, and he made her laugh over and over.

He knew he wanted to ask her on another date, he wanted to ask her out every night of the week.

She waved as she walked into class, Eddie gave her a flirty nod that made her dash for her seat faster.

He grabbed a piece of paper and began writing but she slid a note right on top of his.

He looked up as she turned around.

He opened it as the teacher wasn't looking

"Date #2? I saw an ice cream place on our tour yesterday."

~

Eddie came prepared for this date, he had a notebook and all different kinds of pens.

She waited on a bench outside as he ordered their ice cream. He prayed he'd make it to her before dropping any on the ground.

She smiled as he sat down next to her and handed her the ice cream. The first few minutes were silent as they tried to eat the ice cream before it began to melt.

They asked many questions about each other yesterday, so Eddie tried to think of new things to talk about.

"You look beautiful"

She felt her cheeks warm as she read his handwriting, she wrote just below his message. He watched as she wrote,

"Thank you. You are pretty cute too"

"You have a little something on your cheek,"

She read the note and was confused. She looked up at Eddie and she felt a cold glob on her cheek.

She watched as Eddie's face morphed into a smile as he laughed behind his hand. She smiled and grabbed a chunk of her ice cream, she watched as Eddie's smile dropped.

"No no, I'm sorry!" he said as she read his lips. He got up to run but she was fast behind him. He didn't make it far before she jumped on his back, his arms catching her legs as she smeared her ice cream right on his nose.

He let her down as he laughed, then she joined in.

"Uncool," he teased once he faced her. She just smiled and shrugged.

He smiled as he leaned in, his hand on her cheek as he wiped off the ice cream with his thumb.

Her breathing got faster as he looked into her eyes, his soft touch on her cheek made her heart race.

"Can I kiss you?"

He felt his stomach turn with nerves as he waited for her to read his lips. He got even more nervous when she blinked but didn't say anything.

He wanted to kiss her? She had never kissed anyone before and she wanted to tell him how nervous she was but she couldn't walk away.

She grabbed his hand and softly used her finger to write letters. He concentrated as he watched her fingers spell something out.

"N.E.R.V.O.U.S"

"Ner-nervous? You are nervous?" he asked, she watched his lips and then nodded. He cupped her jaw with his free hand, watching as she took a deep breath.

"Me too," he whispered, she read his lips and then saw his lips moving closer to her.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. It took a few seconds for her to shake off the nerves and kiss him back. She wasn't sure where to put her hands so she softly placed them on his chest.

He tasted of chocolate chip ice cream. And his lips felt amazing against hers. The kiss got better as they grew both confident.

He pulled away with a beaming smile, the ice cream on his nose transferred to her face.

"Let's get cleaned up," he laughed, she nodded and followed behind. Butterflies in her stomach as she felt her lips.

~~~

After many more dates, they became an official couple. Eddie's friends made sure she was comfortable and talked slowly so she could read their lips. They didn't mind reading and writing to communicate. It was clear that there was a connection between her and Eddie.

Eddie adjusted and took a beginner class in sign language. He was proud to show what he learned after every class. Sometimes he taught her new words.

One thing Y/N hated was that she couldn't share music with Eddie. She learned that was a huge part of his life from the beginning, and it made her sad that she could never hear him sing or play.

That doesn't mean Eddie ever excluded her. He'd have her sit next to his guitar amp, hook it all up, and let her feel the music as it played through. He'll never forget how excited she was when she could feel the music against her hand.

And that's what she did at his shows. She sat front row and placed her hands on the speakers.

He did it all because he loved her...he just hasn't said it yet.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

[justsomerandomfanfic]

I See You - Eddie Munson X GN (Deaf) Reader

Title: I See You

Eddie Munson X GN (Deaf) Reader

Additional Characters: Mostly random teens, along with random "friends" Terri and Stancy-Ann

Requested by: Anon!

WC: 2,794

Warnings: Teens talking behind Reader's back briefly, Reader is mentioned to be an outcast, teens being jerks, Eddie the Protector, nicknames, mentions of drugs briefly, teasing, flirting, slight angst, and fluff

You were so tired. Tired of people... And of the world really. It was like the whole world was against you sometimes, making it impossible to be anything more than an outsider, an outcast. You were deaf, unable to hear, but you did have hearing aids that did allow you to hear when you wore them. But sometimes you just didn't want to hear. Your so-called "friends" would always grow so irritated when you didn't want to wear your hearing aids, or when you simply wanted someone to repeat what they had said; people alway made it seem like it was so much work and trouble just to repeat themselves.

“But, I was thinking we should start the presentation with the history of Einstein before we go into his theory-” Terri spoke, only for Stacy-Ann to interrupt her.

“You mean his life, not his history,” She said, “I mean, really, Terri.”

You blinked as they continued to fight on whether or not to have Einstein’s important life events listed out in red ink or blue, but as their conversation veered onto Einstein’s theory of relativity, you found yourself confused… What did they just say?

“Uh, Stacy-Ann, could you repeat that, please?” You asked, your own purple pen, that you had borrowed from Terri pausing on your index cards. 

Both Terri and Stacy-Ann had turned to look at you before glancing at one another, and scoffing.

“Well, you should have been paying attention, Y/N.” Terri spoke, “We’ve said it, like, twice.”

You blinked rapidly, clearing your throat, “Well, I just missed what you had said. Could you please repeat what you said?”

Terri stared at you, as if what you had asked was dumb before she shook her head, turning down at her own notes. “No, I don’t want to repeat myself. It’s your fault for not hearing me the first time.”

Sometimes you wondered if they were even your friends at all. They would end up ignoring you, not wanting to be around you sometimes. Well, you didn’t need them. You had your boyfriend, Eddie.

Eddie Munson was also an outcast like you. He was different from anyone you had ever met. He was eccentric, loyal, and kind. A nonconformist with a heart of gold. Whenever you were with him, it was like the world was on pause, frozen. Everything seemed to fade out and disappear, leaving just the two of you. When you were sad, he would make you smile again; effortlessly with his charm, jokes, smile. He understood you and made you feel seen and heard. He loved you. He had told you so many times before, he had written it down so many times - pieces of notebook paper scrawled with his penmensip - that you knew he meant every word. He had even brought up the idea of matching tattoos once when the both of you were in his room in the trailer, staring up at his ceiling, hands clasped together as you lay side by side.

Spring break was coming fast, like tomorrow fast, and Eddie was going to some bonfire party, that some other high schoolers were having, to sell his merchandise. You had always felt so out of place in large groups of people, feeling ignored, leaving you bored and rather lonely. Eddie also knew that you disliked parties, so he told you that he’d understand if you would want to stay home, but you didn't want to be alone at home waiting for him, so you decided to come along; as long as you were with Eddie, you’d feel at ease. You did have to admit though, as you walked hand in hand with Eddie towards the bonfire, that you were happy to get out of the house, get some fresh air, and spend more time with Eddie that wasn’t at school, your place, or his. 

And everything was going pretty well, the music was pulsing loudly through the boombox, the deep beats reverberating through the ground at your feet and where you sat on a fallen log. Eddie sat beside you, arm over your shoulder as you both stared at the large fire, his small tin sitting between his feet as he waited for the business to come rolling in. 

"Nice night," Eddie began, his hand coming up to rub up and down your arm gently - instantly warming you up as a slight breeze flew by and chilled the both of you. "Cold night, but nice." He finished, dropping his arm to take off his jacket to wrap it around your shoulders before returning his arm around you, showing off the Metallica band t-shirt that he was wearing; which was a gift from you. 

Breathing in the scent of musky amber, combined with vanilla - and a hint of weed and leather - which wafted off of his leather jacket in waves; comforting, "Yeah this is nice." You spoke softly, watching as about a dozen or so teens danced, drank, or just sat by the fire talking to friends. 

"I'm glad you came with me," Eddie then spoke up, nudging his nose against your temple, making you look up at him, seeing the smile on his face, "I know how much you hate parties but this party would’ve been such a dud without you."

"Yeah, but it’s… Enjoyable with you." You answered, smiling sweetly at him as you turned your head to kiss his cheek lightly. Your eyes glanced at the fire for a few moments before looking back up at Eddie again, taking note of the way he stared at you. It wasn't the first time he'd looked at you that way, the way that made you feel special, desired, and wanted... It still made you flush. But this time something about his expression made you feel slightly nervous - in a good way. "What is it?" You asked softly, having a feeling that Eddie had something on his mind.

His brown eyes shifted from your eyes, down to your lips before back up, "Nothing. Nothing important, just... Just thinking. It’s just… You’re so bewitching." He replied, leaning closer to you as if he couldn't help himself, his warm breath fanning across your face as his gaze continued to travel down to your lips, which were parted slightly, waiting for him to kiss you... 

“Bewitching?” You muttered, your heart warming as your face flushed, “I’m bewitching?”

“Absolutely, babe. You’ve spellbound me.” He pulled you closer to him, finally leaning in, his eyelids drooping; his lips just a breath away from yours... Until...

"Hey! Munson!" Someone yelled out, interrupting both you and the young man in question as he pulled back and let out an irritated, dramatic sigh, snapping his head towards the teen who called out to him.

"Duty calls." You muttered sadly as Eddie nodded, running a hand through his hair before he grabbed his tin.

"Yeah, but don't think this is over. I plan to kiss the crap out of you when I return," He teased, pointing a finger at you before gently booping your nose as he stood from the log, "Later~" He added, winking, before heading into the throngs of teenagers with his usual avant-garde stride. You watched him go, letting out a dreamy sigh before staring back into the fire - which flickered dangerously - knowing that Eddie would keep his promise and come right back.

Even though you did still feel a bit uneasy, you were actually enjoying yourself, staring at the large bonfire, warmed by it and Eddie's jacket around you. Though, there was this tingling in your mind, that something was going to go wrong, that someone was going to say something or do something, like always, and ruin your happiness. You were getting used to the feeling, the paranoia, which frustrated you deeply. You hated this town, you hated the people in this crappy town, you hated everything except Eddie. Sometimes you wished that after graduation, you and Eddie could just ride off in his van into the sunset.

"Why are they here?" You then heard, snapping you out of your thoughts as a small group of people began to talk near you, "I thought they couldn't hear the music?"

Yeah, they were talking about you.

"They have hearing aids, idiot." Another one spoke, clearly not caring if you could hear them. "Just ask them."

"Ask them what?" Came a third voice, one sounding already irritated, crossing their arms and pivoting their weight to the side. "I don’t want to talk to them."

“Yeah,” The first teen spoke, “They hang out with that freak Munson. They’re probably a demon worshiper too.”

That last comment caught your attention, causing your head to snap up as you focused your eyes on the three teenagers. Your blood was boiling, no one talked like that about Eddie, he wasn’t a freak. What jerks.

You rose quickly, speeding past the trio and right towards Eddie. You wanted to leave, but you didn't want to ruin any business for him, or ruin any of the possible fun that he might have been having. So you kept walking, and only when your arms were able to loop around his, did you finally let go of the large breath you didn't know that you were holding in your lungs.

The moment your arm looped around his, Eddie turned his head, looking down at you. At your frown, he frowned as well. "What's wrong, babe?" His tone sounded concerned, his attention moving away from the potential customer in front of him.

Your body stiffened instantly, but slightly, as your eyes moved downcast momentarily before you looked into his chocolate brown eyes; the color practically drowning you in warmth and comfort, "I missed you." You said simply, and though your words were sweet, Eddie saw past them, he heard, and saw the emotion behind them.

Eddie hummed, turning to the teenager, "If you'll excuse me."

"Hey, freak!" The teen exclaimed as you and Eddie moved to turn and leave, "I thought we had a deal here?"

Eddie turned sharply, "Deal's off." Before he turned once more and began leading you to the van.

"Deal's off? Why? You need to go babysit them!?" The teen yelled out, gaining some other's attention as Eddie froze in place. 

You held onto Eddie's arm, your fingers clutching onto his skin, probably painfully, but Eddie didn't seem to notice or care as he stared daggers into the teen's head. Your free hand by your side clenched into a tight fist, your nails creating crescent moon-shaped creases into your palm before you quickly reached up and took out your hearing aids. 

For a moment, as you closed your eyes, you could feel at peace, unable to hear anything as the crowd around you faded away, leaving you to pretend that you were anywhere else. It wasn't until you opened your eyes again, blinking slowly as the bright crescent moon's beams filtered in between the leaves above you that you realized you were still in the same spot where Eddie had frozen.

You could see that he was speaking, animatedly, a dark grin on his lips as he spoke to the teen. Before you knew it, Eddie had slipped away from you, almost prancing around his new prey, a hop in his step as the teen stood, wary and unknowing of Eddie's next move. 

Though Eddie was clearly intimidating the teen, you couldn't help but admire how Eddie held himself: tall, broad shoulders, strong and powerful arms, a confident smirk on his lips as he continued to speak, his dark hair falling forward, his bangs brushing against his dark eyebrows as he tilted his head side to side, almost badgering. You had always admired how protective Eddie could be, always going out of his way to make sure you were alright, not afraid to tell others off for their behavior towards you. 

You weren't exactly sure how long you stayed there, standing, observing, just drinking in the sight of Eddie before you; trying to process all that you were seeing. It wasn't until you felt a soft tug on your hand, pulling you from your trance, that you realized that Eddie was done and the teen was out of sight.

You watched his lips move, forming your name before he continued with what you were sure was, "Let's go home." And with that said, he guided you back to the van, keeping close, watching over you.

The ride back to his trailer was silent, for you, your hearing aids carefully placed away in a small, green carrying case that you always carried with you. Again, sitting in the van, feeling the soft rumbling as Eddie drove over pebbles and a small hole in the road, you slipped your eyes shut. And again, you felt at peace, unable to hear the world, and finally, you allowed your body to relax into the plush passenger seat of the van; totally exhausted. 

With the soft touch of Eddie's calloused hand wrapping around one of yours, you opened your eyes, turning your head to see that gentle smile of his. Slowly, your eyes softened, and you smiled back, lacing your fingers with his, and giving his hand a comforting squeeze; one that silently told him that you were okay. With your free hand, you reached over and gently ran your hand along the side of his face, brushing his long, curly hair behind his ear, smiling even wider as he leaned into your touch; closing his eyes, nuzzling against your hand as he seemed to melt instantly into your touch. Bewitched.

It was like you were a part of a zoetrope, capturing each and every scene in front of you. There was an innocence in that moment, a quiet joy. It reminded you of those moments spent together when you were both younger, just Freshmans. Those little times where you would sit and watch TV or the times when you and Eddie would go out adventuring through the woods. Where just being around each other was enough to calm the chaos inside your mind. Those moments where you felt like you were seen. Eddie understood you. No one else ever did. He saw you. He saw you.

"I'm sorry, babe," You heard Eddie say as you placed your empty case on his cluttered bedside table.

Turning, you huffed, laying upon Eddie's bed, tugging the old quilt that your grandmother made over your shoulder; staring over at him. "Sorry for what, Eddie Spaghetti?" You asked him, taking his hand into yours, palm to palm, fingers lanced.

He shrugged lightly, shifting closer, his brows furrowed slightly as he searched your eyes, his own filled with an unknown look. "It was a stupid idea to go to that party. I didn’t have to go." He spoke quietly, as he stroked your knuckles softly. "I shouldn't have forced you to come."

You shook your head, "No, Eds, you didn't force me. You asked, and I agreed to come with you."

A small sigh left his lips, "I know. But, I still feel bad. I mean, the way that he was talking about you..." Eddie exhaled through his nose, "I really wanted to punch him."

"Really?" You questioned him, raising your brows, surprised, a hint of amusement present in your voice as you gave him a teasing grin. "Well, I'll have you know, that while you were telling him off, I thought you looked metal."

The look of surprise on Eddie's face quickly morphed into a sly smirk as he grinned at you, "Oh really?"

"Mhm." You nodded, smiling as you pulled your hands back to slide them around his neck, the tips of your fingers brushing through his hair lightly. "I love that you protect me, you know?" You added, tilting your head slightly, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

"You think I'd ever let anyone hurt you?" Eddie replied, pulling you even closer to him, letting his arms circle your waist.

Your cheeks flushed, and a small laugh escaped your lips as your hands slid down his shoulders to rest on his chest. You lifted your gaze to meet his, softly nudging your forehead against his, "No." You whispered, "With you, I feel safe... I feel seen."

That's all it took for Eddie to pull you tightly to him, his nose gently brushing against yours, his hands soothingly rubbing up and down your back as his bangs tickled your face. "I see you..." Eddie whispered against your lips, his words causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach, sending shivers down your spine, and causing heat to fill your stomach.

You could feel yourself leaning in, your lips hovering right over Eddie's, only a few centimeters apart, before you spoke, "I see you too."

---

Main Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

[cooljadejacksonthings]

ok so i’m hard of hearing and i just feel like the representation in our community is not represented enough or not completely factual, so… i would love to write something with either eddie munson or steve harrington being with HoH or deaf reader so if i could get some feedback on that it would be greatly appreciated

[munsonhoneybaby]

Too Much in Common | Eddie Munson X F!Henderson!Reader

Summary: After Dustin brings Eddie home for a D&D campaign, you find yourself enjoying his company more frequently than expected.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, drug use (marijuana), smut, kinda automatic dubcon since they're both fried?, fingering, a lil praise, eddie’s just a lil obsessed

A/N: it hasn’t been explicitly stated yet but reader is adopted. hopefully i actually post a part two in a timely manner.

part two | finale | tmic masterlist

The rumbling of Eddie’s van ceased in the Hendersons’ driveway as he turned the key back in the ignition. He was surprised, however, when the metal thrum of a guitar continued despite his radio now being off. Opening his door, he recognized “N.I.B.” by Black Sabbath and realized it was coming from inside, making his eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

He made his way to the front door, not bothering to knock beforehand since Dustin was expecting him and the kid’s mom wasn’t home. “Since when did you get a taste in music, Henderson?” He called over the music blaring from the sound system in the living room. A door around the corner slammed open much more forcefully than necessary and the aforementioned freshman barreled out of his bedroom. 

“It’s my sister!” He shouted back. “She said I could have you guys over while Mom is gone if I didn’t bitch while she was in charge, but APPARENTLY THAT MEANS MAKING ME GO DEAF!” 

Eddie could just barely make out your muttered “oh please” as you entered from the kitchen. You turned down the volume until the sound could be considered background noise. “If anyone here is gonna go deaf, it’s me from your constant shrieking.” Distressed jeans hugged the curve of your waist perfectly and the Poison t-shirt you had on looked soft from numerous wears. He tried not to stare, but he was sure he looked like a cartoon character– bugging, heart-shaped eyes and jaw hitting the floor. He almost missed it when you acknowledged him. “Munson. I heard you were still running Hellfire. Didn’t realize you’d be coming today.”

Oh fuck. You knew him. You knew him? How did you know him? Of course, you had gone to the same school, everybody in Hawkins did, but he would remember meeting a girl like you. Would you be upset with him for not knowing who you are? God, already embarrassing himself and he hasn’t even started talk–

“Relax,” You snorted. “I was a grade under you at Hawkins and I was homeschooled my senior year. We never talked, I wouldn’t expect you to remember me. I’m pretty sure everybody knows about you, though.” And this is when you tell him to get out of your house and stay away from your kid brother because he’s a drug-dealing, Satan-worshipping freak. “It’s nice you’re still running the D&D club, sounds like everything else there gets worse every year.” 

Some of the tension in his muscles slipped away and he realized he’d been subtly bracing himself. “Oh–” The doorbell rang and Dustin ran to get it, welcoming in Mike and Lucas who were already amicably bickering louder than necessary. Behind them trailed the two others they had ridden with, Jeff and Gareth if you remembered correctly. They seemed a little uncomfortable holding a session in a new house, but relaxed drastically when they set eyes on Eddie. “Uh– you guys can go ahead down to the basement with the freshmeat. I’ll be down in a sec, alright?” They nodded, waving politely to you before following the boys.

When they were gone, you and Eddie locked eyes again. “Seriously, I’m glad Dusty has someone watching out for him. He takes more shit than he deserves. Just try to be a good role model, alright? If I find out you give that kid Special K or some shit, it’s fucking over for you. Got it?”

“I would never let anything bad happen to those kids when they’re with me,” He spoke earnestly. “I’m gonna look out for them. If I’m ever gonna do anything right, it’s that.”

“I believe you, Munson.” You gave him a small smile and nodded towards the basement door. “You should probably get going. They can’t start the game without their dungeon master, right?”

An embarrassed flush fought its way up his neck to his cheeks as you turned towards the hall where your bedroom was. Before you could get more than a couple of steps though, he gently grasped your wrist. “Hey uh, by the way– I just wanted you to know that I don’t really– I don’t do any hard stuff anymore. Haven’t in a while. I hardly even sell it anymore and I stopped selling to first-timers.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, don’t worry about it. I totally get it, I just wanted to let you know; for your peace of mind, I guess. You deserve to know who your baby brother’s hanging around with, I don’t want you to think I’m too bad an influence.”

“I don’t think you’re too bad, Munson. Just a healthy amount.” You gave his own wrist a small squeeze as you slipped your hand from his and finally went back to your own room. He gazed after you momentarily, even after your door had closed. If the guys were still present, they would definitely be giving him shit.

As if on cue, he heard Dustin’s muffled shout from the basement. “Eddie, hurry the hell up!”

You were sitting on the front porch swing lighting a joint when his beat-up van pulled up two nights later. “Seek & Destroy” poured from his cracked-open windows until his door opened and he set foot on your driveway once again. “He’s not here, y’know,” You called to him.

“That’s alright, I actually just needed to–” Eddie was halfway between you and his van when he caught a whiff of a particularly familiar scent. A shocked, teasing grin slowly spread across his face. “Henderson, are you smoking marijuana right now?” 

In spite of yourself, you let out a laugh, coughing around a lungful of smoke in the process. “Say it a little louder, Munson, I don’t think the deafening Metallica got the neighbors’ attention.” 

Laughing, he dropped into the space next to you on the swing. “I didn’t peg you for the smoking type.”

“Oh, you mean from the three minutes we interacted?” You squinted playfully but held the joint out to him. “Just weed, I don’t fuck with anything else personally.”

He took you up on the offer, calloused fingertips brushing your skin as he took the joint from you. Examining it for a moment, he smirked as he took a hit. “Fuckin’ with it pretty hard, apparently,” He breathed out. “You roll almost as good as I do.”

“Good, then you can roll the next one.” It passes between you as you speak, though Eddie tries to keep his turns short out of courtesy. “Which brings us back to the topic of why you’re here mooching my shit. You said you needed to do something?”

“Right, I uh- I forgot my lucky dice here the other night. I figured I’d pick ‘em up on my way home from The Hideout.” 

“Oh yeah, you’re in a band or something, right?” 

“Since middle school,” He nodded, “Just me and a few guys from school, s’called Corroded Coffin.”

“Sounds metal.”

“We try to,” He chuckled.

“You like Black Sabbath and Metallica, you’d better,” You teased. You didn’t notice the way his eyes followed your every move as you smoked. The way your cheeks hollowed ever so slightly as you sucked in a hit, how your breath hitched and your eyes fell closed as you held it in. The corners of his lips curled up in amusement watching you blow Os while conversation lulled for a moment. Offering him one last hit first, you stub out the roach on the ground and stand from your seat. “C’mon in, you can go get your dice.”

“Thanks,” He hummed, grabbing the door as soon as it was open to hold it for you. 

“Have you eaten?” You ask, heading into the kitchen as he made his way toward the basement door. “I haven’t, I was gonna make a sandwich or something. You want one?”

“That’d be great, actually, thank you.” The dice weren’t hard to find seeing as he’d left them there on purpose. So maybe it was a little weird, definitely a little desperate, but he wanted to make sure he had another opportunity to see you– get his foot in the door, so to speak– and he really hadn’t expected all this. He’d hoped you’d be the one to answer the door and he’d get to make small talk for a few minutes, point out your shared taste in music maybe, but this? Catching you alone, sharing a joint, getting invited in for something to eat? This was going better than he could’ve possibly expected.

“Find ‘em?” You called down.

“Yup!” He jogged back up the stairs, waving the small velvet bag as he joined you in the kitchen. “All good.”

“What a relief. Can’t have the dungeon master thrown off his game, that would be a travesty.” You glanced up at him mischievously as you finished making the first sandwich, scooting the plate across the counter to him.

Eddie suppressed a smile, shaking his head as he picked up the sandwich. “You just love teasin’ me with that, don’t you?” He asked before he took what was probably an unattractively large bite.

“Depends on what kind of teasing we’re talking about, Munson.” You drawled casually in return, turning to continue making your own. Meanwhile, it was an effort just for him to keep his food in his mouth without choking on it. You were flirting with him.

Weren’t you? Maybe you weren’t. Maybe you’d meant it the other way around– that you’d only tease him in a joking way and that you’d never want to–

“Eddie, I can see the smoke coming out of your ears,” You snorted. “Stop thinking so hard, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” You took a big bite before grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge. “Want one?” His answer was going to be yes, but you were grabbing him one before he had responded anyway. There was a brief and fairly comfortable silence as you cleaned up the rest of your small mess and he took a few long swigs of his water. “Wanna finish these in my room? We could smoke another joint maybe…just chill out, I don’t know…”

“Yeah, totally,” He agreed, maybe a little too eagerly.

“You’re rolling though,” You remind him over your shoulder as he begins to follow you to your bedroom.

The door creaked as you opened it, waiting for him to enter after you so you could close it. As you opened the window wide and lit a stick of incense, he took in his surroundings. Your room wasn’t like the average teenage girl’s– not that Eddie had seen very many of those– not pastel-colored, or frilly, or covered in heartthrob posters, though a few stuffed animals were perched tenderly on your bed. Actually, it was almost more like his, albeit much more organized. There were posters of horror movies and rock bands filling a decent amount of the empty space on your walls, the Dio flag pinned to the ceiling drawing his attention. “Oh, that is so sick!”

“I thought you might like some ‘a this stuff,” You laughed softly. Nodding towards the stereo in the corner, you continued, “You can put something on if you want.” He squatted down to look through your cassettes, hearing your voice move through the room as you got out your bud, tray, and paper. “Try to keep it understated though, alright? Nothing too hard or fast right now.”

“Really tryin’ to mellow out tonight, huh?” He began playfully, but looked back at you as his tone softened a little. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, I’m alright,” You reassure. With the cassette in place, he made sure the volume was low before it began playing softly as you spoke. “I just get a little too pent up sometimes, you know? Everything’s just been kind of a lot lately, ‘s why I was already smoking when you showed up.”

“Hey, I can beat it if you want. I didn’t mean to show up outta the blue at a bad time and I definitely don’t have to stick around if you don’t want me here. I can totally get it if you want the time to yourself–”

“Please stay,” You quietly interrupted, then seemed a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t– I’d appreciate the company if you wanna stay a little while.”

Eddie gave you a comforting smile before taking a seat at your vanity to roll the joint, trying to lighten the mood. “Careful what you wish for, Henderson. I mean, you’ve got good music, good weed, made me dinner; I might be hangin’ around here more often with this kinda treatment. You’ve got me livin’ the life, babe.”

Laying down on your bed to watch him, your voice was more serious than he expected when you replied. “You’re welcome any time, you know. Mom likes when the house is busy and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Dustin practically worships the ground you walk on.” His rings glinted in the lamplight as he carefully sprinkled the bud onto the paper.

“Yeah? And what’s your review, hm?” You didn’t mean to stare at the way his lips wrapped around the joint or how his tongue traced the seam of the paper to seal it.

You hummed vaguely as he finished up, gently plucking it from between his fingers when he was done. Dramatically inspecting it much longer than he had yours, you finally say, “You roll clean joints.”

He shakes his head and laughs. Your lips close around the paper, feeling the seam still damp with his spit, and you jut your chin toward his lighter on the vanity. Grabbing it without a word, he leans forward to give you a light. Your gaze catches on his rings once more before lifting to his face again. A reflection of the flame makes the brown of his eyes warmer as they lock with yours, looking up from where you still lay on the bed on your stomach. You take a long pull as he draws the lighter away again and the spell is broken.

Sitting up to breathe the smoke in deeper, you tuck your knees under you. Eddie joins you on your bed, but not before he kicks off his shoes by the bedroom door. He sits cross-legged just in front of your pillows so you shuffle around to face him. “So, how was your concert?”

He snorted, “Concert might be a bit heavy. Gig is a little more accurate. Show maybe.”

You roll your eyes, but keep your tone light and pass the joint. “You’re a loser, you know that? You knew exactly what I was talking about, answer the question.”

“It was pretty good I guess,” He shrugged and took a long hit. “I think there may have been a whole seven people this time. And one of them was even sober!”

You smiled sympathetically, “You’re just in the wrong town. Don’t worry, I’ll come watch you play. I don’t know if that’d be a good atmosphere for the boys, but I could probably force Steve, Nancy, and Robin to come.

He twisted one of his rings around his finger for a moment. “That’s really nice, sweetheart.”

With each toke you both took, the joint burned slightly shorter until it was almost completely gone. “You want the last hit?” you asked. “I finished the last one. And you rolled this one anyway.”

“No, that’s alright. It’s your weed; I’m literally a drug dealer, I’ve got plenty at home.”

“Here,” You took one last long drag and he raised an eyebrow in confusion, but he understood when you sat up further on your knees and leaned toward him. A sense of giddy excitement overtook him for a second, nerves probably heightened from the weed, but he kept his composure. When your lips slotted over his, he took a deep breath in. His hand slid into your hair to keep your head steady as you sighed the smoke into his mouth. Your lips grazed over his afterward, very obviously lingering long after it was necessary. You giggled as you slumped down into a laying position, letting your head fall back into his lap.

“Seems like someone’s a lot more relaxed now,” He cooed playfully.

“Sorry, I can get off ‘f you–” He notices how your voice is slightly rougher after smoking so much.

“Hey, no–” His hands settle warmly over your shoulders, not holding you down so much as they were encouraging you to stay put. “It’s alright, baby. You can get comfy, you’re not bothering me.”

His hands soothed up and down your arms as you settled back in. “That feels really nice.” You hummed quietly and it drew out into another giggle, “Everything feels really nice.”

He laughs a little airily himself, “It does, doesn’t it?” Your skin felt so soft and warm beneath his fingertips, tracing imaginary shapes along the bare flesh of your arms. “‘M feelin’ pretty good, myself.” Your eyes couldn’t help but wander to his pretty pink lips again. They’d felt so soft against yours and you wanted more– to really feel him this time. His thumb brushes your chin, dragging down in a way that had your mouth opening slightly. “What’re you thinkin’ so hard about, sweet thing?”

Blinking up at him with glassy eyes, you raised an arm to brush your fingers over his flushed cheek. “Eddie, c’n you kiss me? Please?”

“Yeah?” He moved his thumb a bit higher to tug your lower lip down a bit, face dipping down a bit closer to yours. “That what you want?” You were nodding before he even finished his sentence, making him chuckle quietly. 

He allowed his lips to graze teasingly over yours, just barely touching, before finally kissing you. His nose brushed your chin and you could feel the small smile adorning his face before your lower lip was sucked softly between his. Fingers winding into his mess of frizzy curls, you moaned quietly into his mouth and pulled him closer. After another moment though, he slowly drew back, lips separating from yours with a soft smack that made you unreasonably desperate for more.

An ache had sparked in his lower back while loading the amps into the van after their show earlier that evening, deepening as he proceeded to help load the rest of the equipment afterward. Now the deep curve he had molded it to in order to keep his mouth on yours had the pain radiating up his entire back. “As much as I’m enjoying this– and believe me, babe, I’m seriously enjoying it– my back is kinda killin’ me and hunching over you like this…” 95% of his brain was screaming at him to shut the fuck up, to ignore it and just keep kissing you breathless anyway, but the other 5% was crying out to lay down and he had to listen.

“Oh, sorry,” There was a slight pant in your voice as you released your grasp on his hair. He sat up slowly as if a movement too fast would shatter the calm in the air. You sat up yourself, watching as he eased himself back onto your pillows. “S’that better?”

“Way better,” He confirmed. “We can uh- we could keep kissing if you want.”

Openly cringing at how awkward that sounded, he opened his mouth to say something else before you interrupted him with a still-sluggish giggle. “I’d like that, Eddie.”  

“Okay,” He nodded rapidly. 

Leaning forward onto your hands and knees, you crawled into his lap. His hands instantly settled on your thighs, running up and down the material of your pajama pants. His eyes flickered wildly over your body a few times before gazing up at you in awe. You didn’t waste any time in kissing him again, which was much easier now that he wasn’t upside down. As you moaned into his mouth, his hands molded to your hips, squeezing and pulling you as tight to him as he could get you. His tongue slipped between your lips, making them open further as your hands found his hair once again. 

He didn’t mean to start moving, slowly grinding into you in an attempt to relieve the tightness in his jeans that definitely wasn’t a problem before he came over— but then you were rocking down on him yourself, clothed cunt rubbing against him in a desperate search for friction. Hips rutting up into yours, he braced a palm against your lower back. You could feel his hardness pressing into you through the layers of clothing between you. Pulling back for air, you panted into his mouth, still subtly grinding against him. “Fuck,” He grunted quietly. The soft whimper of his name that you gave him in return made his head fall back against the wall with a thud. “Got me so fuckin’ hard, sweet thing. Please, don’t stop.”

“Don’t wanna stop,” You whined back quietly. “Feels so good.” 

“Good,” He cooed. “Don’t worry, ‘m gonna keep makin’ you feel good.” Hot, open-mouthed kisses moved down your neck and you let out a moan. His fingers wormed their way past the hem of your shirt, tracing the cup of your bra. “This okay?” He mumbled against your skin. Nodding, you cupped his hand and guided it higher until he pushed your bra out of the way. The pad of his thumb brushed firmly over your nipple, making your hips jerk against his. “Mmm, so sensitive. Is that jus’ the weed or are you always like this?”

“Both,” You breathed out. “‘N you’re good at all this.”

“Aw you don’t have to butter me up, baby,” He grinned. “I’m gonna make you cum either way.” Free hand dipping past the waistband of your pajama pants, Eddie continued playfully, “But, go on. Keep tellin’ me how much I turn you on.”

“Eddie,” You pleaded, “C’mon.” 

Fingers stroking the damp fabric of your underwear, he asked, “This okay? Really want me to touch you?” Your desperate nods made his lips curl, pressing more firmly against you and drawing out a moan that you tried to stifle. “No, no, no, you gotta tell me how it feels, sweet thing. We’re all alone, you can make those pretty noises, it’s okay.”

Your head slumped into the crook of his neck, mouthing lazily at his skin. Nudging your underwear to the side, he sank his middle finger knuckle-deep into you. Grasping tightly at the worn material of his t-shirt, your breath hitched. “Mmm, fuck– yes, Eddie, thank you.”

“Look at you, usin’ your manners ‘n everything. Of course, you would. Such a good girl.” Your moans only grew louder, making his hips jerk in search of friction. “So warm and wet, bet you’d feel so good around my cock.” Lifting your head to kiss him again, your hand found the shape of his length in his jeans. He rolled his thumb over your clit in circles as his hips rocked against your palm. Mouths open against each other’s, you exchanged panting breaths and muffled moans. Confined by your pants, his hand didn’t have much room for movement, leaving your hips stuttering frustratedly. “Lemme get these off’a you, babe. Can make you feel so much better than this.”

Suddenly, his hand was curled under your thigh and you let out a small squeal as you were flipped onto your back beneath him. Your pants and underwear were yanked down your legs feverishly, Eddie parting them to slip two fingers into you this time. “Shit, Eds!”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, was that too much?” Immediately, he tried to withdraw his hand, but you gripped his wrist to stop him. 

“Don’t stop, Eddie. Please, don’t stop,” You rushed.

“Alright, sweetheart, ‘m right here. Don’t worry.” Your hands laced into his hair for stability as his fingers crooked into a spot that almost made your eyes cross. Already dripping onto your bedspread, you pulled him even closer to you. Smirk spreading across his face, he said, “Oh yeah. That’s the spot, huh, baby?”

“Fuck, Eddie, you’re gonna make me come,” You whined.

“Good, want you to soak my fingers.” His hips rocked forward, clothed cock grinding into the back of your thigh. “Wanna feel you come for me.” The way his thumb rubbed so firmly against your clit had heat shooting all the way to your toes. Desperately tugging him down for another kiss, your thighs trembled as they squeezed closed around his hand. “There it is,” He murmured lowly against your lips. “Mmm, you’d feel so fuckin’ good coming around my cock, sweet thing.” The deep cadence of his voice had you shaking.

Grasping at the back of his shirt, you buried your face in the crook of his neck. He held you in silence for a long moment until your head eventually dropped back against the bed. A smile slowly grew on your face as you looked up at him and you let out a small giggle, making him grin down at you. He laughed softly too as he pressed his forehead against yours. 

Eyes darting shortly to the alarm clock on your nightstand, you did a double-take when you noticed how late it was. “Son of a bitch, my mom’s gonna be home any minute!” You grabbed your discarded underwear and pajama pants from the foot of the bed as soon as Eddie had peeled himself off of you. “Uh– fuck, I’m really sorry. I promise I didn’t mean to invite you in just for this, I just didn’t realize how late it got. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging, but–”

“Are you kidding?” He was already leaning against the wall by your door, slipping on his beat-up air forces. “I had a blast, babe. We should do this again sometime,” He winked teasingly.

You rolled your eyes half-heartedly, feeling your body warm. When the two of you reached the front door, you rubbed your arm and met his eyes only a bit awkwardly. “I’m sorry again about not…returning the favor.”

He chuckled, giving you a small smirk. “Don’t worry about me, sweet thing. After tonight, I’ll have no trouble taking care of it myself.” Taking a step closer to you, he leaned down for a kiss that was much slower and softer than the last few you’d shared. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Night, Eddie. Thanks for keeping me company tonight.”

“Anytime.”

You waited at the door until he’d gotten in his van and driven away before finally heading back to your room. As soon as you closed your bedroom door and flopped down on your bed, you heard your mom’s car pull into the driveway. Meanwhile, Eddie drove home, foot a little heavy on the gas pedal as he itched to get back to his own room.

He didn’t see you again for two weeks. He knew the Hendersons’ phone number, but there was no way he could ask for you if Dustin or your mom picked up. So he waited, very impatiently mind you, and hoped he hadn’t ruined things by going so far with you so fast. 

When he did finally see you, it was at Hawkins High School. You’d come to pick Dustin up from that week’s Hellfire club meeting. You knocked on the door before entering, knowing that– despite the session being scheduled to end ten minutes ago– they often ran over their allotted time. Sure enough, you heard Eddie’s booming voice as you cracked open the door and slipped inside.

“And as the chimera flew closer–” When he noticed you he immediately straightened from his position looming over the table, clearing his throat and clasping his hands together behind his back. He didn’t want to scare you off with all this yet. “Okay gentlemen, that’s all for today.” The collective groan they let out had you feeling a bit guilty, they’d obviously been enjoying themselves, and now you were being the annoying big sister; you should’ve just waited in the car. But Eddie was quick to speak again. “Oh, cut the moaning. We’re almost fifteen minutes over and you all need more time to prepare for battle anyway. Amateurs.”

As the others all packed up their things, he approached you and you greeted him with a smile. “Sorry for interrupting, seemed pretty intense, I hope it wasn’t too important.”

“No, no, it’s good you came in. We would’ve been all caught up until someone else came in to stop us in a much less forgiving manner.” You both laughed and it went quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat again. “So uh, I’ve been hoping I’d see you around.”

“Yeah, me too… Smoking alone isn’t as fun anymore.”

His lips quirked up into a smirk and he nodded playfully. “Yeah, ‘ve been thinking the same. You should start buying from me, you know. I’ll give you a discount.”

“Oh, so I have to pay you to smoke with you again? You know, we used my shit last time,” You teased.

“You’ll never pay for anything you smoke when you’re with me, sweetheart. I’m a gentleman after all. Here, hang on.” He dashed back to the table, hunching over to write something down before tearing off the small scrap of paper and coming back to you. “Now you can get a hold ‘a me, come smoke all my weed anytime.”

“Oh, I’ll be taking you up on that.”

Your comfortable conversation was interrupted when Dustin shouted your name. “What’re you doing? Let’s go!”

“I’ll see you around, Munson.”

“Sure thing, Henderson.” 

As you drove Dustin home, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was a bad idea to get involved with Eddie. He was one of Dustin’s best friends now, a mentor for him, one of the only male role models he’s had aside from Steve since he lost his father. The last thing you wanted was to make Dustin feel like you were taking that away from him. God forbid something should happen between you and Eddie and he doesn’t feel comfortable coming around anymore. You couldn’t do that to him. 

Still, you found yourself hunkered over the phone in the living room that night. You tried to hold out, you really did, but you only managed to hold yourself back until almost midnight after your family had gone to bed. Coiling the cord around your finger, you waited impatiently as the phone rang three times.

When he finally picked up, you could hear the smirk in his tone. “Hi, sweet thing. Just couldn’t stay away, could you?”

“Well, I figured I was running low on bud anyway,” You drawled quietly. 

“You’re awful quiet,” He teased. “Don’t want Mommy to catch you up on the phone so late?”

“Fuck off,” You scoffed playfully. “If you’re having so much trouble hearing me over the phone, why don’t you come over?”

“Oh, so she minds a phone call, but it’s okay if we have a sleepover?” He snorted. 

“No, but if you’re quiet you can sneak in and back out before she wakes up to get ready for work. I’ve got twenty bucks calling your name,” You cooed enticingly.

“Seriously?”

"Come on, Munson, you've never climbed through a girl's window before? I'm disappointed."

He simply replied, "I'll be there in fifteen, make sure it's unlocked."

part two | finale | tmic masterlist

<3

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[86-babyy]

Undeniable.

Part two - Insatiable.

Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader.

He’s your Dad’s best friend but when temptation comes to strong, you just couldn’t turn away.

This fic is inspired by the amazing edits of @eddiemunsons-missingnipple, which make me absolutely feral. 🫠 (pictures used in header created by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple )

Warnings: There’s a age gap. Reader is 20, Eddie is in his 30s. Fingering. Choking. Size kink, maybe? (Eddie is big.) Dirty Talk. Eddie is tattooed to the max. Teasing, a lot of smutty goodness. Dirty thoughts and easy temptations, it’s just filthy, babes. 😘 (let me know if I missed anything)

It started small.

Like a ever present dip that strung low in your stomach, it’s soft, subtle and you almost always missed it. The creep of warmth that prickled the tips of your toes, made your chest bubble like tiny explosions weaving through your bloodstream, left you feeling slightly left of centre with no real reasoning.

It was small, dismissive and evidently so fucking obvious.

You weren’t sixteen, freshly twenty, straight out of your adolescence but you were anything but naive. You knew by the second time the feeling had woven it’s way through your hormones like stitching, pulling, twisting, tightening the thread that lead directly to your cunt— that this was every bit of what you knew it was.

It was wrong. Instinctively and morally, it was everything bad, dangerous and wrong in the world to fragile to even think about— to impulsive, playful, thoughts of sin and lust, desire and temptation— It was fucking carnage and you wanted to dip your fingers, smooth the rough edges like rippled water, you wanted to ravish and explore— let the filth cover your skin like dirt and regret.

You wanted to devour, tempt and play with him.

You could take it. That was no hesitation. Everything he could dish out, you would lick clean and ask for more.

“Hey! Look, I got to go, alright?”

The hand waving across your line of vision breaks the border between your subconscious and draws you back to reality.

“Yeah, yeah. Of course. It’s fine, I’ll see you when you get home.”

He shuffles the jacket over his shoulder, the puff slowly dissipates when he zips it all the way up, a concerning smile plays his lips before stuffing the keys into the side pocket and hoisting his bag on his shoulder.

“Try to be good. It’s a late one, don’t think I’ll be back until morning, 6am at best.”

There’s a slight wince in his expression, it falls and tugs his frame along with it, the weight shifting his stance when outstretched arms pull you in.

“It’s fine, Dad. I have a whole night planned, full of pizza and shitty movies.”

You run little circles at the middle of his back, the thick jacket restrains most of your touch but he gestures with a smile in response regardless, he huffs a laugh, nods and heads for the front door.

You genuinely felt fucking terrible most days, your Dad loved what he did, strived for the best in all aspects of his career and it was truly admirable but sometimes when the days would turn to weeks and the nights would stretch longer and longer, he felt guilty, leaving you for so long, though every reassurance you noted towards him felt like it fell on deaf ears you tried none the less.

Except this time, you weren’t alone.

The gentle hum of water swam through the pipes and trickled like notes through the wall, no, you definitely weren’t alone.

The occupied upstairs bathroom was proof of that, housed by one Eddie Munson.

It was like a cruel twist of fate that landed him on your doorstep, like a perfectly timed occurrence when your Dad mentioned that Eddie was in town and would be staying over the weekend.

You had met Eddie before, many times before, see Eddie was your dads best friend. Childhood friends, in-fact.

The pipes creaked, shuttered to a holt when the water turned off. It was like a alarm that vibrated the walls, sent signals telling you to vacate before he came downstairs, telling you to hide. Four minutes. That’s exactly how long it took for you to take the gap between Eddie leaving the bathroom and going back to his room. You stumbled upstairs, each step seemingly drifting further apart with each stride until you hit the top, feet planted and making a line straight to your bedroom. It sounded good, planned perfect, down to each second until you collided with something that held resemblance to a brick wall, knocking you clean from your feet.

The patches of water residue seeps through the fabric of your shirt, bleeds and stains your skin underneath but the searing heat that bares the curve of your waist sticks like molten from the hold as Eddie bares your weight, keeping you grounded, keeps you from falling.

You feel the muscle pinch, flex beneath your palm, the water soaking between skin, seeps from one pore to other beneath your hand.

It’s soft reels of time, like everything is in slow motion, your eyes rake over the sparse of dewy skin coated in a sheen of water, drops leaving tracks as they follow the contours of definition, the inky black images show so much more refine up close, each placed line and shading painted, stained, perfectly across his chest.

Curls cling to the dip in his shoulders, wet ends create a pool in divots of his collar bone, strands of black glisten from the recent action— everything is so wet.

It’s a sickly wet that drys way to quick, beads mirror your face in tiny droplets painted across canvas that you want to reach forward and taste— the border between water and salt, the cool on your tongue mixed with the taste of him.

“Sorry, I uh, are you okay?”

The wind catches in your throat, sucks any air and words along with it when you finally land in his line of sight— deep, dark eyes fluttered beneath eyelashes that study you.

“Yeah, sorry.”

It’s a pathetic response, it’s all breath with no voice and it makes you want to sink further than you already were.

“Maybe, I should—“

In a instant Eddie let’s go. Hovers slightly to make sure you have your footing but removes himself completely, from touch, from space, stepping backwards. The loss of contact winds you without the actual impact, makes you want to run, makes you want to stay more.

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie’s apology is quiet, knowing.

“No, please. It was my fault.”

You pull a semblance of a laugh, a dry attempt at trying to lighten the strain that had set in the air. Eddie bites back with a smile, it’s lop sided and it quirks his lips to dimple the hollow of his cheeks.

“It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too.”

You can’t help it. You smile. It’s small and shy, makes you dip your head to hide the growing heat that burns to the tips of your ears.

“I was just about to clean up, make a pizza, want to join?”

His voice is thick, syrupy like honey but dark like malt, it bares rough in the back of his throat but cheery none the less. You sense the hope in his words, a strained branch in offering to deescalate the situation so you nod.

“Yeah, would love too.”

The painted skull on his throat bobs along with his adams apple when he smiles, reaches behind him and opens the door and you’re quick to take the message, heading back downstairs.

It’s a mess. The whole kitchen is laid out in flour and dough, ingredients spread across the island, once were in bowls, now a muddled mess of vegetables. Eddie’s got a ball of dough, fingers and knuckles need the springy texture to a mould and he’s helplessly coated in the powdery substance. It clings all the way up to his elbows and flecks decorate his hair.

“Are you laughing at me?”

Eddie side eyes you, the gleam reflects off the light and back into you but you can’t help it. You both look a absolute mess.

“Can you blame me? You said you were good at this.”

“Hey, I am. We got dough right?”

“Yeah, and so does the kitchen floor.”

There’s a drop in his expression, a pouty look before he dips his fingers, finds were the flour has collected most and smears your cheek. The white powder blends with your laughter, to slow to avoid his actions, instead you mimic.

Fingers dip into the bag of flour, you watch Eddie hesitantly step backwards, eyes squinted in a daring gaze before you leap forward, your hand smearing white across his shirt, the trail of your hand print perfectly centred on his chest. The walls bounce with laughter, rebound and echo with squeals when Eddie comes for you. You dip and weave managing to duck under his arm before twisting on your heel and feeling the collision of your back into the counter, but that wasn’t what caught you off guard.

Somewhere between the push and pull, Eddie had reached across mid duck and when you came back up, cashing in to the counter, Eddie had caught your throat.

It was a obvious mistake, a miss of direction when you twisted the other way but the evident pressure was unmistakable. You whined, a needy gasp that slipped way to quick before you could even try to swallow it back down, the flush of your cheeks burn through the rapid of your heart rate and you lean forward. Against all better fucking judgement, you chase the feeling, you lose yourself in the hallow of boring eyes that look back at you, to far gone in the abyss— Your mind swept in a fog, dragged by your ankles and left you looking from the outside in.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Fuck.”

Eddie moves quick, takes three steps backwards, hands raised like a wounded soldier.

“No, no. You’re okay.”

It’s breathy and loose, you mask a laugh behind in desperation to carry the banter, not make it awkward, though you very clearly already had.

He laughs but it’s weak, cautious and when he turns to finish working out the discarded dough, you don’t miss the slight tremor to his movements, the way he swallows thick.

“So, how have you been?”

You pick the vegetables, try to place them back in their respective bowls, busy hands keeps your tone light— Friendly.

“Ah, you know, here there and everywhere. Can never seem to keep my feet planted long enough to enjoy much.”

“Maybe you should settle here. You always seem to drift back.”

You catch him wince slightly and realise maybe it had come across more bitter than intended. You knew Eddie hated it here, ever since high school, or so your dad says.

“I’m sorry, I mean, you just seem—“

“No.” He laughs. “You’re right. It’s like I can’t keep away.”

There’s a playful hint in his smile when hooded eyes glance your way, just for a second. It settles deep in your stomach, the churn that pulls and tightens.

“It’s okay, if you ask me, the town is cursed.”

He laughs at this, it’s deep and throaty when he nudges your shoulder, reaches across and offers the jar of sauce.

“I think you’re on to something there. So, what’s kept you?”

You reach across to spread the sauce on the dough, watching the red seep and blend with the stark white, Eddie steps back, lets you manoeuvre in front of him to reach the sides.

“Dads wanting me to move to collage.”

You hum in response, evening the sauce into the sides, dipping into places you missed.

“And what do you want to do?”

It rumbles like a distant thunderstorm, his breath seeps across your neck from behind you, the warmth pricks bumps along your skin. The slight brush of his chest makes contact with your back, sends your mind deeper into oblivion.

“I, uh, I don’t know yet. Maybe travel.”

“Here.”

Eddie reaches around, leans into you as he guides your hand in smooth circles.

“It’s easier if you cover the whole area in one motion, the sauce will spread more easily.”

His chest moves in perfect waves as he breaths, the pressure pressing into your back with each inhale and it only sends yours into unease. Each lined breath comes short and uneven, it’s a wall that’s compressed against your rib cage, shrinks with every small move, slowly suffocating.

You nod back, willing yourself to pull some kind of composure but when his hand holds yours steady against the wavier of motion, just the view of his hand engulfing yours, sends your hormones in active overdrive.

“That’s it. Just like that.”

It’s over. Your heart shutters to a complete skip, missing several beats as your pussy throbs. It’s a dull ache that nips painfully and if you don’t find a way out now, you weren’t going to be able to stop.

“Are you okay?”

Eddie’s now leaning over you, his hair fans your shoulders, the angle of his words ring like a perfectly chimed bell through your ears as he runs a pad of his thumb over your knuckles— The task of spreading sauce long forgotten.

You instinctively lean into his touch, your throat catches on dry air, leaving a strangled groan to brush your lips. If it weren’t for Eddie keeping your hand so stable, you’d be a complete fucking wreck.

“Am I reading this wrong?”

No, god no.

“Eddie..”

“Just say the word, I’ll back off.”

No, please. Don’t.

“I don’t—“

“We’ll forget it ever happened. Go back to normal.”

But, I want it too happen.

“No, please. Eddie.”

Your hips sink backwards, finds the dip between his thighs and you grind, it’s slow and pitiful, pulls the most needy whine from your lips. Breath is sucker punched from the hollow of your chest, a tension snapped after it had been so far strung out and the gasp that hinders in your throat when Eddie pushes back has all reason bailed and running for the door.

“Fuck.”

The spoon is long discarded and Eddie’s now got both palm’s following the contour of your waist, his fingers dip in to the curve of your frame, touching and teasing the exposed skin.

It’s a helpless battle of push and pull, your heads rolled so far back it now sits in the dip of Eddie’s shoulder, while his hands play puppet along the underside of your breasts— curious palms test the water, squeeze the soft skin underneath, lengthy fingers creep to come full circle and caress you. The warmth spreads like wildfire through your veins, the pinch of fingers as he toys with your nipples has your mouth gapped and hiccuping gasps of air, it all feels like fire and ice and it makes you strain harder— Your hips arching painfully back in search of friction as his ever present bulge presses harder back, looking for one of the same.

“Jesus Christ.. Fuck.”

Eddie groans into the sparse of your throat, the mumbled words pressed into flesh when he moans around the soft of your throat. Teeth graze, pinch, bite. Sink so deep that the skin threatens to break, it’s a purple stain that bleeds instead.

“Fuck, Eddie. Please.”

It’s a complete fucking disarray when Eddie takes hold of your waist, fingertips bruise when he spins you around and hooks two palms under the back of your thighs, lifting you up like you were nothing. Your ankles meet at the small of his back, your hands graze the definition of muscle along his arms when they link around his neck. Your ass perfectly cupped in strong hands and you can absolutely feel the mess created between your thighs. It’s soft and wet, humming with pressure that begs for release and when Eddie places you on the opposite counter, needy hands drag you to the edge, it’s a collision of lips and teeth.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

A fight for air between heated kisses, Eddie’s forehead rests against yours as his fingers work at unloosing your jeans.

Black eyes bore into yours, it’s a pit of lust and desire, the edges burning with flames when he mutters the sentence, each lingering stare silently asks permission with every pop of button he releases and you simply moan back in response, in approval.

An arm slings around your waist, Eddie hoists you up slightly, enough to get a pull on your jeans and pull he does. The thick material drags down your thighs and gets tossed at his ankles.

Eddie’s taken two steps back, enough room to give way to remove your pants and underwear, now, he’s standing there— All tall and built. He’s not overly muscular, toned, but his presence is big and demanding. In one swift motion, Eddie reaches behind him, grips a handful of material and effortlessly slips it over his shoulders and head, leaves him in low hanging sweats— A curtain of curls follow suit, leaving the strays still damp to cling to the dip of his temples. The display of tattoos is mesmerising, his torso, chest all littered in black and white art, tales of story’s and pictures of moments— It’s absolutely beautiful.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?”

There’s a dark ring to his tone, it pulls from the back of his throat is a rasp, a growl almost.

You nod your head, all dumb and shy, feels like you’re drunk just from the view.

“Fuck, baby. You can’t do that.”

You whimper, small and needy, watch as his cock twitches beneath his pants.

Eddie does growl this time. It’s predatory and deep, has you white knuckling the edges of the counter when he comes closer. Your whole body is limp on impulse, reacting to the man in front of you. You knew how you must look, all drawn out and needy, not exactly how you expected to play this out but the tables quickly turned when Eddie shown a slight hint of dominance.

“What did I say?”

Eddie’s hand comes to cradle the side of your throat, gentle, holds you there while he nuzzles into the latter side, breathes in the scent. He’s slotted perfectly between your thighs, a puzzle piece meant to be, and his painfully hard bulge presses into where you are most vulnerable.

“You’ll have to remind me. I forgot.”

It’s absolutely dripping in tease, has your confidence spiked and you wanted to test the waters, see how just how far you could sink before you drown.

“Don’t fucking play with me, baby girl.”

“Ah, Eddie!”

Teeth hook into your throat, skin pinches when he releases, slides his hand to cover the front of your throat.

“Mm. A little fight in you, huh?”

The pressure is evident, it’s spreads across your throat where fingers pinch the sides, tips your head back to bring your vision to his and it feels so fucking good. Your body tingles all over, feels like there’s a flood baring through your bloodstream, making everything heightened— sensitive.

Even if you wanted to fight back, you couldn’t. The palm encasing your throat kept its firm hold and the desperate whine that leaves your lips was anything but expected when you felt Eddie’s latter hand smooth up your thigh. It’s a trail that burns, leaves behind a tingling sensation that scorns your skin. Eddie’s fingertips graze the slit of your lips, teases the sensitive flesh and when the pad of his thumb rolls over your clit, so do your eyes, falling helplessly into your head as the wave of euphoria blankets your senses.

“Na uh, baby, look at me.”

Eddie’s fingers dip into your entrance, your slick making it to easy while his thumb stays steady circling your clit. The intrusion has the walls of your pussy fluttering, they clench around the thickness of his fingers, drawing them in to the knuckles.

Your head falls forward, caught by his grip as hooded eyes strain to focus on the man in front of you.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

His eyes swallow you whole, pull you in head first and you had no plans on stopping it. Eddie’s fingers find a pace, pumping in and out of you, his thumb never leaving your clit. Your entire body trembles from the high, your senses so far on alert that it has you internally screaming. Your stomach washes in waves, the draw of pleasure been brought to the surface, you can feel the bubble, the drop.

“Oh god, Eddie.”

The curl of his fingers has you tipping over the edge, your pussy fights with every draw of his fingers, the heated pressure against your throat sends you further. It’s all a collision of white heat and pleasure, has you babbling and moaning complete chaos.

“Oh fuck, Eddie. I’m going to—“

“Eyes on me, baby. I want to watch you.”

The second your vision locks with his, you’re brought down in crashing waves. Your pussy contracts, leaves your thighs shaking. It’s intense and hard, the release rushes through your system in a whirlwind, boils your blood and leaves your head in a blissed out fog.

Eddie removes his hand from around your throat then his fingers, slowly. Let’s the ride of your orgasm slow before placing the two finger’s between plush lips. His tongue darts out, swirls and sucks the evidence of your cum from his fingers. It’s a fucking sight to see, dark eyes follow your motion before he releases with a soft pop.

You absolutely should be completely fucked out, your body heavy is evidence of it but the need still claws in the pit of your stomach, the hunger that bleeds and screams for more.

You reach out and pull Eddie back in, your ass slipping further to the edge from the slick created when your mouths meet in a tangled mess of lips and breath. You wanted to feel him, taste him. You wanted to explore and trace and Jesus Christ, you just couldn’t get enough. Your hands weave in a knot in his hair, groans vibrate through his chest at the action as you abandon one hand to reach between you both. Finding the hardness that hid beneath his pants, eager hands work through to slip between the barrier of material and skin.

“Ah, Jesus. Oh fuck.”

Eddie moans against your lips and you smile in response. Your hand sinks and wraps around his length, your palm working in slow strokes, doing what you could with how much you had to work with. Eddie was big. Thick and lengthy. You’d be lucky if your fingers could touch around the girth and as Eddie fucks up into your hand, you realise just how much bigger he was.

“Jesus Eddie.”

You hadn’t really need to say it, Eddie knew.

You break from the kiss, slip your other hand out from his hair and tug the left side of his pants down. Eddie chuckles, helps the process by pushing the remainder down, his cock still grasped in your hold and fuck where you right.

Eddie wraps a hand around yours, uses the other to hook a finger under your chin and dips his head into your line of vision.

“You doin’ okay, sweetheart?”

There’s humour in his tone. Your eyes are blown out when you nod, smile. Spreading your legs wider with invitation.

Eddie places both hands to cup your face, presses forward and you feel the gentle nudge of his cock spread your pussy. It slips perfectly, your slick making easy way when he breaks the head in. The stretch burns, it’s subtle but there and when he inches further your throat breaks out in a pitiful cry.

“You’re doing good, baby.”

Eddie’s forehead rests against yours, his gaze holds yours in reassurance when he presses further. It’s unmistakable the width that your pussy is being stretched, its a mix of pain and euphoria, leaving behind the most delicious throb.

“That’s it, baby. You’re taking me so well.”

“Oh, Eddie. Fuck.”

Eddie’s thumbs run the pad of your cheeks when he bottoms out, you whimper against the movement, the pain easing from discomfort to pleasure and it courses through your system like a new high all over again.

Eddie draws out and thrusts back in, his rhythm is steady, slow. Each drag pulls new waves, each one has you moaning for more. The pleasure undeniable, it brings forwards a hunger that seemed to be starved, a pulsating heat that hooks your arms around his neck and has Eddie’s palms resting on your thighs, spreading you further. It’s absolutely filthy the image in front of you. You watch Eddie’s cock disappear in the hollow of your pussy between your legs, fingerprints stain your thighs as Eddie picks up the pace, his hips crashing against yours in a wet collision.

“Jesus H Christ, you’re so tight.”

Eddie’s tattoos flex along with his thrusts, the pictures and words dance across his skin, the black ink shining with sweat.

“Fuck, oh my god.”

“Ah, right there, oh fuck.”

Eddie’s railing you with relentless force, it’s a sticky wet fucking mess, echos of skin and moans bounce around you and his cock feels so fucking good. Your chest hammers against your rib cage, air seems to be long gone with every thrust. His curls stick to the creases of his forehead, his eyes watching you intently, almost possessive.

Your hands weave into the back of his hair and settle just at the nape, knuckles knot around the curls and you pull, Eddie’s head jars back momentarily and when he comes back to eye level there’s a flare of desire that bares straight to your centre, ignites a wildfire.

“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.”

Eddie grits out between teeth, the rumble in his tone matches the harsh imprints his hands leave upon your thighs, blunt nails scarring the skin.

“Show me, god, please.”

It’s down right fucking pornographic the moan Eddie emits, he wraps his arms around your waist and without falter, without removing himself he lifts you from the counter and lays you out on the floor beneath.

Before you even tried to protest, Eddie has your legs hooked over his shoulders, your knees press to your chest as he fucks into you. It’s deeper, the thrust of his cock hits the soft of your pussy and has you throwing your head back, even the contact with the harsh floor doesn’t register— Just Eddie’s cock sending you into complete fucking meltdown.

“Like this. M’ want you spread wide fucking open.”

He’s not shy, he pounds away with force and perfect precision, dips his head into the curve of your neck and his moans are like the perfect melody, ringing loud and hard.

“Oh fuck, Eddie. Jesus.”

“Let go, baby. Let me fucking feel you.”

Your stomach churns, the warmth bubbling with one last thrust into your soft spot and it has you clenched tight around his cock. Your orgasm baring down like a earthquake, leaving your thighs trembling and your body fucked out.

“Fuck, good girl, you feel so fucking good.”

Your pussy is soaking, Eddie fucks your orgasm right to the very edge, coats his along too. His thrusts wavier, you feel his cock swell and you reach out, grip his waist and urge him deeper.

“Shit, fuck, I’m going to cum baby.”

His eyes search yours in a hasty need, searching, asking.

“I’m covered, fill me up Eddie, please.”

It’s bares more a whine than a moan, the desperation drawn on every word.

“Holy fuck.”

You feel the hot substance coat the inside of your pussy, Eddie’s release seeping into the most intimate parts and it’s has you on cloud fucking nine.

Eddie sinks above you, his weight rests lightly above yours, the air is thick and humid, filled with heavy pants for air and raspy ends of lingering moans. Eddie rolls over, loops an arm and takes you with him, curled up beside him, tangled in arms and legs and it’s absolute bliss.

Eddie chuckles softly, nudges into the crook of your neck.

“Well, fuck.”

[lunarzstarz]

REQUEST:

Modern eddie munson addicted to video games.

He’s online with friends all the time and paying no attention to you. You’re getting tired of it so you stale action by riding him in his gamer chair still making him play the game and keep himself unmuted. After a lil he can’t take it anymore and powers down the game abruptly, carriying you over to the bed and fucking you until you can’t walk….🤭

loved this idea so much, sorry it took so long for me to finish had writers block, but I hope you like it! thanks for the request anon <3

Pairing: Modern!Eddie Munson x AFAB!Reader

Content Warning: NSFW 18+ minors dni, handjobs, unprotected sex, PinV sex, slight dacryphilia kink? slightly proofread.

A/N: Sorry I've been gone for a little while, but I'm back and I'm working my way through requests, so feel free to ask for one. I'm also officially working on part 2 of "The No List" I don't know when it will be out though so if you want to be added to a tag list just let me know :)

Word Count: 2.4K

You stood at his door for ten minutes, if you knocked any harder it would probably fall down. You knew Eddie was home, he’d just called you thirty minutes ago, asking you to come over, you just didn’t know why he wasn’t answering the door. Before you think about knocking again, you check under the doormat and of course there was the spare key.

Unlocking it and stepping inside you can already hear Eddie shouting at someone and that already tells you everything. You roll your eyes and shut the door behind you “Eds!” you call trying to announce your arrival, but nothing. Heading to the bedroom, there he was sitting at the desk, back to you. 

He had his headset on, eyes focused on his screen, still unaware of your presence. “Eddie!” you try again stepping closer a hand reaching out to tap his shoulder, he flinches. 

His gaze tears away for a split second to see who it was “Shit, you scared me” he gives you a smile. 

“Hello to you too” you return the smile and lean down to kiss him, but you’re met with his cheekbone when his head snaps back to the screen. 

“Shit!” he shouts, killing yet another creature in one of his stupid video games, one you had got him and immediately regret buying. 

“Hey, when are you gonna get off?” you ask, but your voice falls on deaf ears as he continues to pay attention to whoever is on the other side of the mic. “Eddie!” you give him a shove and his head snaps back to you. 

“Yeah, yeah sorry I’ll be off as soon as I finish this round, I promise” he rushed, immediately going back to the game without giving you a chance to protest. 

So you give in and lay on the bed, opting to mindlessly scroll through your phone as you started your long wait. It didn’t take long for you to get restless and tired of listening to him shout at the screen. You and Eddie had been seeing each other less and less lately with it being the busiest time of the year for you both, you thought finally after days of not seeing each other he’d jump at the chance to be with you, but it was clear that he had other things on his mind. 

Around the twenty minute mark he cheered, winning yet another game, you listened in on his conversation “Good game…oh I don’t know my-” he turned slightly to look over at you seeing that you were still looking at your phone “Okay…one more but after that I-.”

You reached for one of his pillows and threw it at the back of his head “Eddie!” he turned, looking apologetic “You know just because you’re ignoring me, doesn’t mean I can’t hear you right?” you glare at him.

“I know, I’m sorry, look just one more game and I swear I’m all yours” he sees your unamused impression, knowing he should have just got off when you got here, he was the one to call you over after all. 

“Fine, do whatever” you huff flipping over to your stomach so you didn’t have to look at him. He knew it was the wrong choice, but his friends were all calling for him down the mic, so he went back to playing. 

You had two options, leave and not speak to him for the rest of the day or give him a reason to get off the game. You weren’t about to leave, not when you had waited all week to see him and spent extra time that morning getting ready just for him, so you’d just have to take matters into your own hands. 

You got up and started to undress yourself, stripping down to your underwear, a set you had picked out just for Eddie, you weren’t about to let it go to waste. You crept up behind him, leaning down to place soft kisses to the side of his neck. He let out a small gasp, surprised at the feeling of your lips ghosting over his skin, but let you continue. 

You stalked around him so that you were in his peripheral, he took a quick glance, then went back to the game before doing a double take. His eyes scanned your entire body, taking in the time to memorize all your soft curves, lips parted as he practically drooled over you. 

He quickly muted himself “Give me two seconds, just to let them know I have to go” he rushes, but you stop him. 

“No, it’s okay, keep playing, like you said you can’t just leave your team in the middle of a game, right?” you say, repeating the excuse he had used on you many times. 

“But you- your- shit sweetheart you’re killing me” he reaches a hand out to run his fingers over the waistband of the lace underwear. 

“Poor you” you tut, no feeling behind it, he had you waiting what felt like hours for him and now he wants to get off “I think you can wait a few minutes and finish your game, go on.” 

You encourage him, he’s torn but his team is calling him, wondering why he wasn’t responding. He finally unmutes himself “Yeah, I’m here sorry” and with that he goes back to playing, this time a lot more distracted, stealing quick glances at you. 

You however weren’t gonna let him get off that easy. You reach down, toying with the waistband of his sweatpants, he sends you a warning glare, but does nothing to stop you as you dip your hand into his pants. “Shit…” he gasps when you wrap your hand around his base, he was already half hard. 

“You gotta be quiet, don’t want anyone hearing you now do we?” you say, smiling down at him. He shook his head and tugged his bottom lip between his teeth to help keep himself quiet, trying to focus on the game and not the feeling of you stroking his cock. 

Once you were satisfied with how hard he was, you tugged on his sweatpants, signaling for him to lift his hips which he hesitantly complies to. You climb onto his lap, straddling his hips, his cock only centimeters away from your clothed cunt. 

He quickly mutes himself again “What are you doing?” he asks through gritted teeth as you grind down against him. 

“What? I’m not doing anything” you say, trying to act dumb as you rock your hips again. Before he can respond he can hear his friends saying they need his help “Go on.” 

“You are, you’re trying to kill me” He sighs, unmuting himself again “Where are you?” he goes back to helping his teammates and you go back to grinding against him. He fights to keep his eyes from closing as you line him up with your entrance, his tip catching on it. You brace yourself, trying your best to stay quiet as you sink down on him, a small whimper passing your lips at the stretch as you seat yourself on him. 

His head is thrown back as your warm walls wrap around him, squeezing him tight. You start the slow rock of your hips, it was gonna be a lot harder to not make a sound than you thought, the feeling of him pressed against that sweet spot deep inside. Eddie ground his hips up to meet yours making you double over, head resting in the crook of his neck, you covered your mouth with your hand as a quiet moan escaped. 

Eddie was wearing a smug grin, your own plan had backfired, he knew you wouldn’t be able to stay composed, not while he was buried to the hilt in your cunt. One of his hands trailed down the plane of your back, coming down to cup the flesh of your ass and thighs, grabbing at anything he could get. You raised your hips and sunk back down meeting his thrusts, you bit down on his shoulder to try and suppress any sounds that threatened to escape. 

Eddie was losing it, his teammate’s calls for help long forgotten, his focus now fully on you. The quiet sounds that only he could hear coming from you left him wanting to fuck you senseless. “Eddie, please…” you whined and that was it for him. He removed his headset and shut off the monitor without any explanation to his friends who were left wondering what had happened. 

Both of his hands hooking under the backs of your knees “Hold on” being the only warning he gave you before he picked you up. You wrapped your arms around him, both of you still connected as he carried you over to the bed. He threw you down to start stripping himself from all his clothes. 

You watched impatiently, thighs rubbing together trying to create some friction to ease the loss of his cock, but it wasn’t long until he was on you again. “You really are insatiable, you know that?” he grins down at you, grabbing himself by the base so he could slide his tip through your folds. 

“Please..” you moan weakly as he taps it against your clit. 

“Please what?” he knew what you wanted, he just wanted to hear you beg for it. He caught his tip on your entrance, barely pushing into you, then pulling out again. “Come on, weren’t so shy when you were riding me, bet you wanted them to hear you huh? You wanted them to hear how good my cock makes you feel?”

He slid his hands up your body, freeing you from your bra and leaning down to place open mouth kisses on your breasts. He looked up at you as he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, that had you mewling into his touch “Come on baby, tell me what you want.”

“Want you to fuck me, please” you wrapped your legs around his waist, hands in his hair to tug him closer to you. 

“Always so sweet for me” he leaned into you, your lips meeting as he guided himself into you. You whined against his lips at the contact, he didn’t waste time before thrusting into you at a fast pace, sliding over that spot only he could hit. 

It didn’t take long for you to become a moaning mess. Eddie was the one to break the kiss, sucking and biting at the side of your neck instead so he could listen to all the blissed out sounds you were making. He could tell you needed more though and he would always give you what you needed. 

He sat back, grabbing the backs of your legs and pressing your thighs to your stomach. You practically screamed as he started hitting you at a new angle, his pace picking up as he pounded into you. 

“Fuck! Please Eddie, f-feels so good” you babbled beneath him, it only made him go faster. Deep groans escaped him, his grip becoming almost painfully tight on the back of your thighs, rings leaving imprints on your doughy flesh. 

Eddie was trying not to bust his load just looking at you, the way your jaw was slack letting out the sweetest sounds every time his cock abused your g spot, the way your eyes were struggling to stay open because you wanted to watch him fuck into you. “Holy shit- so fucking wet for me sweetheart, pussy practically crying for me, just needed me to fuck you on my cock didn’t you?” he coos, now buried impossible deep in you, tip kissing your cervix. 

You couldn’t even form words to respond, you nod weakly as tears began to form from the amount of pleasure he was giving you. “So fucking pretty when you cry for me, making you feel that good?” he pants, thrusts faltering slightly as he could feel his own release approaching. “Shit, squeezing me so good baby, you close?” he asks, though he could tell you were holding off for him.

It had seemed like forever since you’d last been with Eddie, you didn’t want it to be over so quickly so you’d been holding off as long as you could, but it was becoming impossible, especially when you feel his fingertips over your clit. You jolt at the sudden extra shock of pleasure “Fuck! Y-yes m’close” you reached for something to hold onto, grabbing onto his shoulders. 

He used whatever energy he had to keep up his animalistic pace as he fucked you into the mattress, bringing you to the edge. “Come on baby, cum all over my cock” his words only encourage you further as you feel that coil snap and your orgasm wash over you, feeling more like it was crashing down in huge waves of pleasure. 

Eddies fingers were fast on your clit as he fucked you through it, feeling you grip down on him so hard, nails scratching his flushed skin, it had him spilling inside you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” he moaned, each word punctuated with the slam of his hips. 

The room filled with nothing but your cries, his desperate moans and the lewd wet sounds of sex as you both rid out your highs. You were so fucked out you were seeing stars, your hearing going fuzzy. You feel Eddie collapse on top of you, finally letting go of your aching thighs. His chest heaving, bangs stuck to his forehead, the two of you covered in a sheet of sweat, but you were too far gone to care. 

He eased out of you, peppering kisses to your chest, neck and face to bring you around again. “Still with me?” he asks, you could only hum a response back and he smile. He sits up and disappears for a moment, you wait until you feel the bed sink next to you again before finally opening your eyes to look at him. 

He was staring down at you, eyes so full of admiration and love. “Here” he hands you a water, you sit against the headboard to take a few sips as he brushes the hair from your face. “Good?” he asks, hand coming down to soothe over your thighs, still trembling with the aftershocks. 

“More than good” you smile up at him “Should fuck you in your game chair more often.” 

He laughs, “Yeah, you should.”

[aphrogeneias]

it's been seven hours and fifteen days —

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (soulmate!au)

summary: it's new years eve, and as the year comes to an end, so do a lot of other things.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: fluff and a lot of angst. brief sexual assault (by an unnamed patron). a little bit of violence. mention of a gun (as a joke, very quickly). a cliffhanger. stobin (platonic with a capital p) appreciation.

author's note: it's been a long time, but the show must go on. i hope you enjoy it! <3 also, please don't hate after you're done with this, 'kay? pinky promise.

series masterlist

Steve and Robin surprised you with a visit right before New Year’s Eve of 1991.

Surprised isn't the word, in fact. They had both been dropping hints about coming over to see you whenever you'd talk on the phone for a few weeks then, especially since Eddie came back to your life. You were trying to not worry them, to not bring up the subject too often, but they knew you better than you knew yourself.

In the same way Eddie once knew you too.

On the morning of the 30th, you were woken up by several insisting knocks on your apartment door. Those were unexpected in themselves, since no one used to visit you. Especially at that time of day, after a long Sunday night shift. Your roommate was out of town for the holidays, and even then, it wasn’t like there were people coming in and out of your home on Monday mornings.

Mornings were for sleeping in and recovering from the buzzing in your ears left by way too loud live music — Linda would always say you'd all end up deaf, but you couldn't think of a better way of eventually losing your hearing — and standing on your feet since the afternoon. However, that particular Monday morning was different than any other.

Stumbling out of bed, you inwardly cursed whoever was bothering you this early, when you'd just gotten to bed. From the other side of the door, you could hear two people arguing. “Stop knocking! You've already woken up the whole building!”, one of them said, in a frazzled whisper-shout. The other responded, in an almost bored tone, “And she might still be asleep.”

You'd never yanked the lock open that fast in your life.

Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley, with bags under their eyes and bags on the floor by their feet, stood on your doorstep. Their matching smiles staring right back at you.

“What are you doing here?” You gasped, launching yourself forward, involving both of them with your arms around their shoulders in an awkward group hug.

“We were long overdue for a road trip to see you.” Steve sounded tired as he squeezed you back.

“The old Beemer almost didn't make it.” Robin commented as you pulled away.

“I’d kill both of you for surprising me like this on my day off but I'm too happy to care right now.” You were already pulling their bags inside and closing the door, leading them in.

“Can we take a nap first? I'd rather be killed while I'm well rested.”

The cold, early morning sun shining through the window curtains made that sight even more surreal. Robin already lying on your couch, and Steve sitting himself on the floor in front of it, resting his head on the seat. You smiled through the sleepy fog that still lingered behind your eyes.

“That can be arranged.”

They slept through the morning and a little into the afternoon, which gave you time to sleep too.

After you were all awake and they'd settled their luggage in your room, showered and changed, it was time for an improvised breakfast for lunch with whatever you had in your fringe. Frozen waffles, scrambled eggs and plenty of coffee.

You sat around the small, square table in your kitchen while you listened to them talk about everything, everyone, you'd left behind. About running into your mom at Bradley’s Big Buy, about the kids going to college, — and how Robin hopes Dustin never follows any of Steve's advice, much to his chagrin — about Robin’s life in the city and Steve’s struggle to let go of the past.

Some things would never change, even when they did most drastically.

You didn't speak about yourself, content in just hearing them talk, basking in their warm presence. Until Robin asked, “What about Eddie, huh?”

“Yeah, what about Eddie?” Steve repeated, trying to act casually while he filled his mug with more coffee. It was never his strong suit.

You sat back in your chair, crossing your arms. “What about Eddie?”

“Can't we ask how he's doing? How are the two of you doing?” Robin mirrored your position, grinning at you.

“There's no two of us, nothing’s changed in that regard, before you ask.” You sighed, “And Eddie… Eddie is doing great. The band is doing great, they're getting good traction with the public, the bar has been more and more crowded each weekend. It's just a matter of time until they get a better offer as a resident band, or from a label. I'm happy for him, for them.” You quickly corrected yourself.

“What about you? Are you happy?”

You couldn't help but smile at Steve's question. “It's bittersweet, I think. I grew used to having him around again, some days it's like I haven't even left, but I know it's got an expiration date hanging over us all over again. It's good to have him while I can, you know? I try not to think too much about it.”

“No use in telling him, then?” Robin finally breached the subject, you knew that was where they were trying to get all along.

You shake your head. “No, there never was, really. It's what I told you guys five years ago and it hasn't changed. Eddie doesn't want a soulmate, even if it's…”

“Not even if it's you? I really doubt that.” Steve interjected.

“Especially if it's me. Especially now, after everything I did. It's not fair to him.”

They exchanged a look then, one of those looks Robin and Steve shared that no one but then could really tell what it meant. It was enviable, really, to be that understood by someone. You once knew what that was like.

Before either of them could say anything, something shifted at the table. Subtle, like a soft gust of air, but you knew the feeling. You knew it well, and when you looked down between the empty plate of waffles and your barely touched cup of coffee, sat something that wasn't there a moment ago.

A woven leather bracelet, with a simple silver clasp. It was slightly worn, clearly well loved. There was no question where it came from.

You picked it up, letting it hang from your pointer finger.

“Is that… his?” Steve broke the silence.

A tired sigh left your lips from deep within your chest. “Who else could it be from?”

One more for the box.

As seemed like a pattern that day, you got woken up again, this time by the phone ringing.

Robin was sleeping in your roommate’s bedroom — because what she doesn't won't hurt her — and Steve was dead asleep, snoring on your couch. He didn't budge as you picked up the bright blue receiver from where it hung from the wall.

“Hello?”

“Did I wake you up?”

Eddie's tone did not indicate he was even a bit remorseful — you could practically see the dimples forming around his lips stretched in a charming smirk, his body leaning against the telephone booth.

“You didn't call me to ask that.”

Little did he know you had a matching smile on your own lips.

“You’re right. Jus’ wanna hear your adorable, middle of the night voice.”

“Asshole.” You scoffed, and if your face felt a little hot, you tried to ignore it. “What's up?”

“You wanna go help me put up some posters over on the Strip? Linda said we need all the marketing we can get for New Year’s, and I could use some help.”

“And your dear bandmates can't help because…?”

“Didn't ask them. I'm asking you.”

“Why? Missed my pretty face that much? You saw me yesterday, man.”

“Jesus…” He sighed, overdramatic and loud, as you'd expect. “Just get your cute butt over here, I'm waiting at the next corner.”

You giggled, again, not being able to help yourself. “I knew it.”

Most days, you liked to tell yourself you shouldn't get too attached. Eddie would soon be leaving again, on a tour bus to brave the country — with how much people they'd been attracting to The Deuce, it was only a matter of time until one of them was a producer scouting for their label’s next big hit.

You told yourself that, if he didn't leave, then you would. You'd done it once, there was no harm in doing it again.

You realized you liked lying to yourself more than you were previously aware of.

Lying to yourself was what you did when you were crammed into the passenger seat of Jeff’s old car, less conspicuous than the beat-up behemoth Eddie calls a van, scouring the city for the best spot to tack some concert posters. The late night radio tune the background of your laughter, inside jokes returning like second nature, the red string tightening around your pinky finger.

It was what you did when he held your hand to make you walk the streets faster, trying to cover more ground through the night, the same way that he used to when you played together. When he asked you to sit on his shoulders to attach posters to places higher than either of you could reach, and his hands rested warm on your thighs. When you ended the night at the same diner you did every morning, sleepy eyes meeting over hot coffee mugs.

Closer each day, still pretending to be far.

Holidays were never a busy time at The Deuce, which meant that the crowd at that New Year's Eve party was something you'd never seen before.

Being one of the smaller, lesser known clubs at the Strip, your parties were always a bit more inconspicuous. Smaller bands, smaller crowds, a lot less trouble. For some reason — and you suspected it was due to the news of a certain frontman’s charisma spreading through the city like wildfire — everything you expected was turned upside down this year.

Tickets were sold out that afternoon, and the bouncer had manager to squeeze in a few more people waiting in line. All pretty girls, of course. You had drinks to sell, after all.

The beginning of the night went as smoothly as you could manage. You got in earlier than usual, as did the rest of the staff, and by the time people started rolling in, you barely had time to greet Robin and Steve, who promptly found a place to sit further from the stage.

It was funny, seeing all of your old friends under the same roof again, even if it was just for one night. The boys came from backstage to say hello for a moment, and it was almost like being back at The Hideout again, with those same old drunks, and much less history between all of you. If you closed your eyes, it was almost like being there again.

If you looked closely, though, the strained smiles and awkward small talk amidst your closest friends and Eddie told you everything would never be the same again, not even if you tried.

A new year, a new life. Wishes to make, though yours was always the same.

You tried to shake that feeling, though, and concentrate on work. On the buzzing, electric feeling in the air, on the loud chatter and the music the DJ was playing in the background, on the eminent excitement for midnight to come.

Your wish happened to come out of backstage again that evening right before the band came on, wrapping one arm around your shoulder while you carried an empty tray towards the bar.

Your heart raced as he leaned closer, voice lowered for your ears only. “Do you see that guy over there?”

He pointed at a man sitting by himself, close to the stage — as close as he could get without getting into the crowd that was already forming in front of it. He looked like a mixture of Kim Fowley and a Ken doll, nothing too out of the ordinary for the men you saw regularly here, but he was definitely not a regular.

“Who is that?” You whispered back at him as you placed the tray back on the counter. Eddie remained there, with his arm around you, his body learning against your side. You could tell how excited he was by the wild grin on his face.

“He's here for us. Linda called on some favors with an old friend who knows people, and… voi-fucking-lá. We have an in.”

“Good luck, then.” You smiled, turning to fully look at him. “You're gonna need it.”

You were not expecting it when he left a lingering kiss on your forehead before walking away.

If there was a strange feeling growing on the back of your throat, you tried your best to ignore it. It stayed there as you watched Corroded Coffin perform what you thought was their best night there, their music rising and rising the crowd until they broke like a wave, manic guitars and heavy drums working them for their own pleasure.

It stayed until the clock struck midnight, and Eddie threw a kiss at you from the stage, and you pretended to catch it in the air and place it in your heart. Somehow, that felt more intimate than the dozens of couples kissing all around you.

All hell broke loose after the band left the stage.

The DJ returned, where he would stay until the bar closed, and as everyone scattered around the bar, it was the usual pandemonium you were already used to, but with much more people. The bar was busy, which meant you were busy, but not too busy to sneak a shot or two with Steve and Robin, or watch the former flirt with Heather behind the bar.

Eddie and the boys were all around, talking to everybody. It felt nice to see them in their element, especially Eddie with his big gestures and loud personality — he was right at home, there. It felt even nicer when you managed to cross each other, his hands always finding a way to touch you, to let you know he was there.

As good nights, though, that one also had to come to an end.

It started to crumble when you had a full tray of beers, and a man bumped into you. You tripped, but didn't fall, thanks to all the practice you'd had. The man grabbed your waist, then, harshly. “Whoa, there! Falling for me already?”

“You wish. Let go.” You responded, curly, already trying to escape. It wasn't the first time you dealt with one of these types, and it wouldn't be the last. Keeping your cool was the best you could do in a situation like this.

“Not yet. Let me show you a good time, baby.”

“I said let me fucking go.” You gritted through your teeth. Some people around started to notice, and it wasn't long until they started staring. His hands started to lower on your hips, whining some you couldn't understand through slurred speech, until you felt someone push the man's shoulder.

“She said let go, man. You heard it the first time.”

“Not right now, pretty boy.” He pointed at Eddie, and you saw an opportunity to pull yourself away, and didn't resist stepping on his foot, hard.

“Asshole. Get the fuck out of here.”

The man’s face grew red with pain, and anger, no doubt. “Bitch!”

You heard Eddie let out a bitter laugh before his face was flying at the man’s face, who upon impact, lost balance and barrelled into you again, but with full force this time, sending the beers on your tray flying, glass shattering on the floor, and beer spilling onto you.

It was like being in the middle of a hurricane. Eddie fought the guy, who was already on the floor, as the boys came running to drag Eddie away. Robin, with Steve on her tow, pulled a startled you by the hand and away from there. Her and Heather lead you towards Linda’s office at the back, but all you wanted was to look back.

In your haste, you'd left the door unlocked.

The bathroom inside the small office room was cramped, but better than the ones outside. Robin had offered to come in with you, but you wanted to cool off alone. She waited outside as you attempted to clean yourself, your black top hanging from the sink as you wiped the drink off your chest with paper towels.

Your heart still beating fast in your eardrums, though the adrenaline was starting to wear off, made you tremble a bit, a cold shiver going through your body. You didn't know if it was relief that nothing worse happened, or if it was the phantom memory of Eddie’s hands gripping your body close to his.

You sighed, looking at your disheveled self in the blurry, dirty mirror.

The door handle rattled behind you, and you answered without looking. “I'll be right out, Rob.”

“Buckley is outside with Harrington and the bartender chick.” There's a slightly injured hand, free of the usual rings adorning it, holding the door a few inches open, and a face obscured by overgrown bangs. “Can I come in?”

Through your daze, you made yourself a reminder to trim Eddie’s hair when you could.

Sensing his hesitation, you smiled as best as you could through your reflection, feeling too vulnerable to look back. “Yeah. Of course.”

Quietly, — too quietly for Eddie — he came in and the door clicked closed behind him, but he didn't move, staying still with his back against it. You realized he was probably trying to make himself smaller, as to not scare you even further. Your heart grew warm while your body still shivered.

“Is everyone alright?”

When you turned, you noticed you were mirroring each other's positions. Trying to stay as far as possible in that tight space, arms pressed to yourselves, as the red string between you pulled and pulled and pulled, strained to the point of breaking.

It didn't, it wouldn't.

“Yeah, they kicked the guy out. Uh… I kicked the guy out, actually, and the guys helped, but yeah.” He chuckled nervously. You couldn't see them, but if you had to guess, the tips of his ears would be bright red. “Linda threatened him to never come back with that pistol she keeps under her desk, you should have seen it.”

You giggled despite yourself, “Man, how could I have missed that.”

“Are you alright?” Big brown eyes stared at you from across the small room and, as they always did, disarmed you completely.

“I'm alright.” You turned again, reaching to give your wet top a thorough squeeze before putting it on again. “Didn't get hurt, just got wet…”

You forced a laugh, but Eddie didn't return the sentiment. When you looked back again, he wasn't looking at you anymore.

He was crouching, picking something off the floor. The ceiling light wasn't on, just the yellow one over the mirror, and you struggled to see what it was until he straightened himself up, shuffling on his boots. The first thing you noticed on his right hand was a silver chain, and at the end of it, a red guitar pick. It must have fallen while you took your top off in a hurry.

You knew it like the back of your own hand. It was slightly chipped at the bottom, the scaly red slowly losing its former glossy finish, the faded Fender logo at the center of it.

You knew he knew it too.

“Where did you get this?”

A hand stretched between you, like a long corridor in a dream. Just within your line of sight, but unreachable. The necklace hung from it, limp, its silver chain glinting in the yellow light of the flickering lamp.

When you didn't answer, Eddie’s voice hardened. “I'm not gonna ask again.”

Your eyes were focused on the red guitar pick, not on his face. You swallowed hard, “I think you already know.”

“No, I don't.” He emphasizes it with your name, and it hurts you to hear it. The atmosphere changed completely, then. “I lost this years ago after a show in Indy, but you were already gone. Where did you get it?”

Eddie's voice trembled with something you only describe as betrayal. There was grief too, somewhere in there. Your shattered heart ached, but you couldn't find it in yourself to say something. Anything.

“What have you been hiding from me?” He had never sounded this quiet. It scared you.

“Nothing you don't already know.” You mumble, staring at the floor. “Like I said, I think you already know.”

Frustrated, he stomps his feet, but you don't flinch. “Goddamnit! Just tell me. Tell me. I want to hear it from you.”

“So, you do know?”

Narrowed eyes met in the middle. The red string tensed, and bent — does it break? Could it, ever? Sometimes you wished you could snap it. For his sake, not yours. But all it did was stretch impossibly tighter, like the fist that closed itself around your heart.

“I don't…” Eddie's eyes glistened in the dark, whiskey dark, swimming in murky waters. “I feel like I don't know you like I thought I did.”

You broke first, approaching the door with trembling legs, like a deer in headlights. The two of you stared at each other closely for what felt like more than just a mere moment, unsaid things hanging heavy in the air.

“Did you ever?”

It doesn't break, but bends, and bends, and bends.

[cielie-voss]

The guinea pig whisperer

Eddie Munson x fem!reader (and her guinea pigs)

Summary: When your family needs your help, you turn to your best friend Eddie Munson to take care of your beloved guinea pigs. Couldn't be that difficult, right?

Warnings: use of y/n, but other than that none I think

Wordcount: 4.4k

Taglist: @violettsoul @evileyeandthecattywhumps

Masterlist

If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗

“Okay, guys, we’ve got this,” Eddie said softly as he knelt down, trying to convince himself as much as the little creatures in front of him.

“We totally got this.”

Who was he kidding? He totally didn’t have this. What had possessed him to agree to this quest?

As the little furballs scurried back into their houses, teeth chattering in disapproval of the strange guy invading their space, Eddie leaned back against the rustling beanbag and sighed.

Eddie loved animals—really, he did. Sometimes, he even loved them more than people. But most animals didn’t seem to love him back. He was usually too loud, too hectic, too fidgety, and he ended up scaring them away.

“Come on, I’m not a bad guy,” he tried to convince the crested guinea pig that was cautiously sticking its nose out of the door, sniffling and clearly unimpressed with Eddie's presence.

“Hey, it’s not my fault, okay? You’re the one who needs special care. I’m just doing what I’ve been told,” Eddie said, as if reasoning with the little ball of fur would somehow help. Did the guinea pig even understand him? Probably not—it’s just a guinea pig. Guinea pigs couldn’t understand humans, right?

When you had asked him to take care of your guinea pigs for a few days while you were out of town, he figured it wouldn’t be that hard. Feed them a couple of times a day, refill their water bottle—how complicated could it be?

But, oh boy, was he wrong.

You were the most generous person he’d ever met, always caring for every creature that crossed your path. For as long as he’d known you, you’d always had special needs animals in your care. Abandoned rabbits, blind cats, deaf dogs, birds with deformed wings, abused animals—you always tried to give these innocent souls a place of refuge.

The other day, you got a call from your family, needing your help with your grandma’s funeral. In a panic, you reached out to Eddie, asking if he could take care of your beloved guinea pigs. Knowing Eddie’s kind nature and willingness to help, you entrusted him with the responsibility of looking after Elvis and the other guinea pigs in your absence.

Who could possibly refuse such a request?

Certainly not Eddie.

Before you left, you handed him a list of instructions on how to take care of the guinea pigs, especially Elvis, your oldest guinea pig who needed special attention due to his dental issues.

Veggies cut in thin slices.

He eats pretty slowly, so make sure the others don’t steal his food.

Make sure nothing gets stuck where his teeth are growing back.

Nothing complicated, right? But he hadn’t expected Elvis to be such a diva. When you led him into the living room, where the huge guinea pig cage took up half the space, the other guinea pigs had excitedly approached the glass pane enclosing the cage. But Elvis stayed at the back, laying majestically in his snuggle sack, eyeing Eddie warily, clearly unimpressed by his presence.

As soon as you left and Eddie tried to introduce himself, Elvis sprinted into one of the wooden houses, out of Eddie’s reach. Realizing this task might be more complicated than he’d thought, Eddie sat down and observed the guinea pigs for a while. Maybe they just needed to get used to his presence? Maybe they were just shy and needed to see that he wasn’t a threat?

He glanced at the list you gave him: Treats are in the drawer next to the cage.

Treats sounded like a good idea. He grabbed a handful of pea flakes and tried to lure the guinea pigs out, carefully whispering reassuring words to them as if they could understand him.

Bit by bit, the first noses peeked out of the houses, sniffing the delicious treats in his hand. But it took some more time before the first guinea pig dared to approach Eddie, sneaking up to him cautiously. Excited, Eddie held his breath, freezing like a statue so as not to scare the fragile, timid creature. Just as he was struggling to hold his breath any longer, the guinea pig grabbed one of the flakes and, with its head held high, ran back into one of the houses.

He knew he had to be patient to gain their trust, but no matter what he tried, Elvis wouldn’t come out, making the task nearly impossible.

The rest of the day, Eddie spent in the living room, switching between the couch and the bean bag next to the cage. Whenever he moved around, he made sure to be as quiet as possible. Sitting still was something Eddie wasn’t really good at—he was always fidgeting with anything he could get his hands on.

After a while, he decided to read something to them. Maybe the sound of his voice would help the piggies get used to him? At least it would help him stay still. He figured it didn’t matter what he read aloud, so he inspected the small bookshelf in the corner of the room.

“Romeo and Juliet?” He glanced over his shoulder, searching for approval.

“No, maybe… What about Dracula? No, that’s probably too scary for you guys.” His eyes scanned the other titles. “Red Dragon? No, not appropriate. The Shining? Or maybe Carrie?” He furrowed his brows as he picked up one of the books and turned it around to read the blurb.

“Goddamn, these are some pretty bloody and violent books for such a gentle girl,” he muttered, surprised by your choice in literature. He put Cujo back on the shelf before finding Howl’s Moving Castle.

That might do the trick.

To lure the piggies out of their houses, he placed a bowl of thinly sliced vegetables in the middle of the cage and sat down on the bean bag, reading to them in a soft voice. But still, Elvis remained stubborn, refusing to come out of his house.

“Damn, you really are one headstrong little guy, huh?” Eddie peeked through the entrance of Elvis’s hiding place. “I won’t hurt you. I just wanna make sure you get enough food.”

They locked eyes in a silent standoff—two stubborn souls, neither willing to give in. Eddie cocked his head, looking at Elvis with pleading puppy eyes.

“Come on, dude. Do it for Y/N,” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice, as he held out his hand, offering some pea flakes. But Elvis simply turned his back on Eddie. Groaning, Eddie leaned back into the bean bag. How was he supposed to take care of this little guy?

The next couple of hours were a trial of patience for Eddie. Bit by bit the other guinea pigs started to become comfortable around Eddie - accepting the neatly cut veggie strips he offered them in an attempt to gain their trust. They even let him touch them and ate right out of his hand after some time. But Elvis? Hell no. There was no sign he started to trust Eddie. No matter what Eddie tried - pea flakes, grapes, cucumber or even blueberries - Elvis wouldn’t even look at him.

Slowly Eddie became frustrated, even anxiously because Elvis simply wouldn’t eat anything other than hay. After countless rejections Eddie searched through your kitchen, not actually knowing what he was looking for. He let out a sigh, his fingers running through his hair, about to give up, when finally he found a big bush of parsley taking up the space of the kitchen's windowsill. “Okay, one last try” he declared and gently picked a few twigs.

With the parsley in hand Eddie sat down on the bean bag again. “Hopefully this’ll work” he said before he tried to lure Elvis out of his hiding place. And miraculously it was working. Slowly Elvis’ nose peeked out of the little plushy tunnel he was hiding in. And it didn’t take long before, paw after paw, he followed the smell of the parsley in Eddie's hand.

“So you’re just like everyone else,” Eddie stated, grinning like an idiot, “Everyone is corruptible, even a guinea pig like you.” Relieved Eddie watched the little guy munch on that parsley. The little triumph filled Eddie with so much pride, he was convinced that there was nothing stopping him from successfully completing this quest. Even though Elvis was still on high alert, inspecting Eddie attentively and freezing every now and then when Eddie dared to move ever so slightly, it was another small step in the right direction, another piece of the puzzle that was earning the trust of these tiny creatures—Elvis, most of all.

Every morning, he would sit by the cage, reading softly from Howl’s Moving Castle, carefully offering treats, and speaking in his gentlest tone. The other guinea pigs had started to warm up to him, now eagerly gathering around whenever they saw or heard him coming. But Elvis remained stubborn, only occasionally poking his nose out to observe the others before retreating back into his hideaway.

Eddie found himself growing more and more determined. There was something about the challenge that made him even more committed to winning Elvis’s trust. Maybe it was because you had entrusted him with such an important task, or maybe it was because he recognized a kindred spirit in the little guy—a fellow outcast, wary of letting others in.

On the third day, a breakthrough happened. Eddie was lying on the floor next to the cage, chin resting on his hands, his voice low and soothing as he read another chapter. He hadn’t noticed at first, but slowly, ever so slowly, Elvis began to inch closer to the entrance of his wooden house. Eddie kept reading, trying not to make any sudden movements. After what felt like an eternity, Elvis crept out just enough to sniff the air, his tiny whiskers twitching.

Eddie’s heart raced. He didn’t move, barely even breathed, as Elvis cautiously approached the bowl of veggies. The little guy sniffed around, eyes constantly flicking up to keep Eddie in sight. But eventually, he started to nibble on a piece of lettuce, his guard seemingly lowered. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling a surge of triumph. Maybe, just maybe, they were slowly starting to understand each other.

But getting Elvis to eat in his presence was one thing; getting him to trust Eddie enough to be touched was another. Every time Eddie tried to reach out, Elvis would dart back into his house, and they would be back to square one. Frustration gnawed at Eddie, but he refused to give up. He tried everything he could think of—different treats, talking to Elvis in even softer tones, staying as still as a statue whenever the guinea pig ventured out. But nothing seemed to work.

One afternoon, after another failed attempt to coax Elvis out, Eddie slumped onto the couch, feeling defeated. He had a sprig of parsley in his hand, the latest in his arsenal of treats, but Elvis wasn’t biting—literally or figuratively. Eddie absentmindedly twirled the parsley between his fingers, thinking about what he might be doing wrong. Then, a thought struck him. He remembered how you had once mentioned that animals, especially small ones like guinea pigs, relied heavily on scent. Maybe Elvis was so attached to you because he associated your scent with safety.

Eddie searched through your apartment until he found a little cupboard in the bathroom, filled with makeup, different sorts of hairspray and a few little flacons of perfume. He stared at it for a moment, the idea forming in his mind. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? But then again, everything else had failed. What did he have to lose?

With a determined sigh, Eddie grabbed the bottle and spritzed a small amount on his hoodie. The familiar scent filled the air, a mix of something floral and earthy, like freshly cut grass. He couldn’t help but smile a little—this was so absurd it just might work.

Feeling a bit silly, but hopeful, Eddie returned to the cage. He gently placed the parsley in front of Elvis’s hideaway and then sat back, waiting. Eventually, Elvis emerged, sniffing the air as usual. But this time, something was different. His tiny nose twitched more rapidly, almost excited, and he stepped out a little farther than usual, his gaze fixed on Eddie. The guinea pig’s hesitation seemed to lessen, and to Eddie’s astonishment, Elvis slowly made his way over to him, stopping just short of where Eddie’s hand rested on the floor.

Eddie’s heart pounded as Elvis sniffed at his hand, clearly intrigued by the scent. He stayed perfectly still, allowing the little creature to take his time. Finally, with what seemed like a deep breath of resolve, Elvis nudged the parsley with his nose and then—almost miraculously—climbed into Eddie’s lap. Eddie was so shocked he barely dared to move. But Elvis, after a moment of careful observation, seemed to decide that this strange new version of Eddie was okay, settling down on his lap.

Eddie let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Gently, he raised a hand and started to stroke Elvis’s soft fur. This time, the guinea pig didn’t flinch or run. Instead, he let out a tiny, contented squeak, closing his eyes and stretching out his legs as Eddie continued to pet him. Eddie grinned like a fool, feeling like he’d just won the lottery.

Eddie had settled into a routine with the guinea pigs over the next couple of days. He'd spend his mornings preparing their veggies, carefully slicing them just the way you had shown him, then patiently coaxing Elvis out of his hideaway with a mix of treats, soft words and the scent of your perfume. Though Elvis had finally started to warm up to him, Eddie still found himself with plenty of downtime as the guinea pigs quietly went about their business.

That afternoon, as the guinea pigs dozed off after their midday snack, Eddie found himself drawn to his guitar, which he had brought along just in case he needed something to pass the time. He hadn’t played much since he’d been focused on the guinea pigs, but the itch to strum a few chords was starting to get to him. So, he grabbed his guitar and lay down on the floor, fingers absentmindedly picking at the strings.

He started with something soft, just a few random chords, not really thinking about what he was playing. The sound of the guitar strings filled the room, blending with the soft rustle of hay from the guinea pig cage. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling the familiar comfort of the guitar beneath his fingers.

But as he relaxed into the music, his fingers instinctively drifted into a familiar riff—Metallica's "For Whom the Bell Tolls." The heavy, thrumming notes reverberated through the room, and Eddie couldn’t help but get into it, his fingers moving more confidently across the strings as he lost himself in the music.

He was just starting to really enjoy himself when he noticed something strange. The peaceful quiet of the room had been interrupted by a series of sharp, disapproving clicks. Eddie paused mid-riff and looked over at the cage, where all five guinea pigs were wide awake, teeth chattering in what could only be described as intense disapproval.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his fingers hovering above the strings. "Seriously, guys?" he muttered, half-amused, half-offended. He plucked another string experimentally, and the chattering grew louder, the guinea pigs shifting restlessly in their cage.

He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "What, you don’t like Metallica? I thought you guys had better taste than that." But the guinea pigs weren’t having it—every time he strummed a chord, their chatter became more insistent, as if they were staging a tiny, furry protest.

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, alright, I get it. No Metallica,” he conceded, setting his guitar aside with a grin. “Guess you’re more into the easy-listening stuff, huh?” He rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh. “Can’t believe I’m getting critiqued by a bunch of guinea pigs,” he muttered to himself, a smile still tugging at his lips.

The room fell back into a peaceful silence, the guinea pigs settling down once more as Eddie let the moment wash over him. He was still smiling, even as he turned his thoughts back to the challenge of getting Elvis to trust him completely.

A few minutes later, he picked up his guitar again, but this time, instead of metal, he gently strummed a softer melody—something calm and soothing, more to the guinea pigs' taste. The chatter subsided, and Eddie felt a small sense of victory as he noticed them relaxing again.

As the days passed, Elvis began to venture closer and closer to Eddie. The once hesitant little guinea pig now seemed less afraid of the strange man who had taken over his home. Eddie noticed the subtle changes—how Elvis would come out of his hiding spot more often, how he’d eat his veggies with less hesitation, and how he’d sometimes watch Eddie with what looked like growing curiosity.

One afternoon, after hours of reading aloud and playing soft melodies on his guitar, Eddie felt the weight of the day catching up to him. The warm afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. The rhythmic sounds of the guinea pigs munching on their food, coupled with the cozy warmth of the bean bag, lulled Eddie into a sleepy daze.

Before he knew it, he had dozed off, his head resting against the back of the bean bag, his breathing slow and steady.

Unbeknownst to Eddie, Elvis had also grown sleepy. The little guinea pig had gradually moved closer to the side of the cage nearest Eddie, his tiny body finally relaxing as he curled up in a pile of hay. For the first time since you had left, Elvis drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep, feeling safe with Eddie nearby.

About an hour later, Eddie stirred awake. His neck ached slightly from the angle he’d been sleeping in, but as he stretched and rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the nap had been surprisingly refreshing. He turned to check on the guinea pigs, expecting to see them scurrying around or nibbling on some hay.

But then he noticed Elvis, who was still lying in the same spot, completely still. Eddie’s smile faded as a pang of worry shot through him. He leaned closer to the cage, his heart starting to race. Elvis wasn’t moving at all.

“Elvis?” Eddie called softly, tapping the side of the cage. “Hey, buddy, you okay?”

There was no response. No twitch of the nose, no flutter of the ears—nothing. Eddie’s mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario. Was Elvis…? No, he couldn’t be. But the stillness, the lack of movement, made Eddie’s stomach twist in fear.

Panic set in as Eddie quickly reached out to gently pet Elvis’ white crest, his hands trembling. “Elvis, come on, don’t do this to me,” he murmured, trying to nudge the guinea pig gently. But Elvis remained motionless, his tiny body limp and unresponsive.

“Oh god,” Eddie breathed, his voice tinged with desperation. “Y/N’s gonna kill me. I’m so sorry, Elvis, I didn’t—”

He froze mid-sentence, his brain scrambling for a solution. Maybe Elvis was just in a deep sleep, right? Maybe he just needed a little incentive to wake up. Eddie’s eyes darted around the room, searching for something—anything—that might help.

Then he remembered the parsley. Seemingly Elvis’ favorite thing to snack.

Practically diving for the drawer, Eddie grabbed a sprig of parsley, his hands shaking as he brought it up to Elvis’s nose. “Come on, little guy,” Eddie begged, holding his breath and praying to whatever god might hear him right now. “I know you love this stuff. Just wake up, please.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Eddie’s heart pounded in his chest, and he was on the verge of full-blown panic. But then, just as he was about to lose hope, Elvis’s nose twitched. It was barely noticeable at first, but Eddie’s sharp eyes caught it. Then, slowly, Elvis’s whiskers twitched, and he took a long, deep sniff of the parsley.

Eddie nearly sagged with relief. “Oh, thank God,” he muttered, watching as Elvis’s eyes fluttered open, the guinea pig groggily lifting his head to nibble on the parsley. The sight of Elvis happily munching away, casually as if nothing happened, made Eddie laugh out loud, though his laughter was shaky with the remnants of his panic.

"You scared the hell out of me, you little rascal,” Eddie said, his voice filled with both amusement and lingering relief. He gently stroked Elvis’s fur as the guinea pig chewed contentedly, seemingly unaware of the scare he’d just given Eddie.

Eddie sat back on the bean bag, his heart rate gradually returning to normal as he watched Elvis eat. The little guy had just been in a deep sleep, completely comfortable in Eddie’s presence. Eddie couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride—Elvis finally trusted him enough to sleep so soundly, something that seemed impossible just days ago.

Eddie chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he teased, though his tone was affectionate. “But hey, at least I know how to wake you up now.”

For the rest of the day, Elvis stayed close to Eddie, either nestled in his hoodie or perched on his chest as Eddie lay on the couch. They watched TV together, with Eddie flipping through channels until he found an old movie that wouldn’t be too loud or scary.

When you returned that evening, the first thing you noticed was the unusual stillness in your living room. Expecting the usual rustling of hay and the soft chattering of your guinea pigs, you tiptoed in, not wanting to disturb whatever was happening. As you rounded the corner, the sight before you made you stop in your tracks, your heart melting instantly.

Eddie Munson, the chaotic, metal-as-fuck guy you knew, was stretched out on your couch, his wild curls splayed out on the cushion, with Elvis nestled snugly inside his hoodie, just below his chin. The two of them were watching some cheesy sitcom, but it was clear they were both on the verge of dozing off. Elvis looked completely at ease, his tiny nose twitching as he snuggled deeper into Eddie’s hoodie.

You had to stifle a giggle, half from the absurdity of the scene and half from the warmth it brought to your chest. You almost didn’t want to disturb them, but curiosity got the better of you. “How the hell did you do that?” you whispered, eyes wide with amazement. Elvis had always been so fixated on you, never letting anyone else get near him, let alone cuddle up like that. Not even your closest friends or family had managed to gain his trust like this.

Eddie stirred at the sound of your voice, blinking groggily as he turned his head to look at you. A slow, sleepy grin spread across his face when he saw the look of disbelief on yours. He glanced down at Elvis, who remained contentedly curled up, his little body rising and falling with Eddie’s steady breaths. “Oh, this?” Eddie said with a playful smirk, his voice still heavy with sleep. “I found out he’s a sucker for parsley. And, well… your perfume.”

Your eyes widened as you stepped closer, leaning in to catch the familiar scent lingering on Eddie’s hoodie. Sure enough, there it was - your perfume, the one you always wore. The realization hit you like a warm wave, making your heart flutter. “You’re wearing my perfume?” you asked, half amused, half touched by the gesture.

Eddie chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “What can I say? Figured if I couldn’t be you, I could at least smell like you. Gotta say, I think it’s working. Might have to start wearing this stuff all the time, I think it suits me, don’t you?” He winked, clearly enjoying your reaction.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Ridiculously charming,” he teased, raising an eyebrow as if daring you to disagree. “I mean, it worked, didn’t it? This little guy’s all about the Munson charm now.” He gently stroked Elvis’s fur with the back of his finger, the guinea pig letting out a contented little purr in response.

“Looks like he’s not the only one,” you muttered under your breath, though a smile tugged at your lips as you said it.

Eddie’s grin widened as he caught your words, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Is that so?” he drawled, his tone light but his gaze warm.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the flutter in your stomach. “Maybe,” you replied, your voice just above a whisper.

For a moment, the room was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of the sitcom. You gently draped a blanket over Eddie and Elvis, who both looked completely content in their shared little cocoon. The sight of Eddie, usually so loud and full of energy, lying there with your favorite guinea pig snuggled up against him, melted away any lingering doubts you had about him.

“Thanks for taking care of them,” you said softly, your hand lingering on the blanket for just a moment longer than necessary.

“Anytime,” Eddie replied. “I kinda get it now. Why you’re so into these little guys. Elvis is pretty cool once you get past the whole ‘tiny ball of anxiety’ thing.” His voice was sincere, though the playful glint in his eye remained. “But just so you know, I’m expecting a bonus for going above and beyond the call of duty here.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what kind of bonus are we talking about?”

He grinned, tilting his head slightly as he looked up at you. “How about dinner? You know, as a thank you. And maybe you could tell me more about this perfume - I’m thinking of making it my signature scent.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Dinner, huh? I suppose I owe you that much.”

Eddie’s smile softened, his teasing fading into something more genuine. “You don’t owe me anything,” he said quietly, “but I wouldn’t mind spending more time with you. And Elvis, of course. We make a pretty good team.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and as you looked down at the two of them, the warmth in your chest spread until it felt like you might burst. Maybe there was something special here - something you hadn’t expected to find.

“Well,” you said, your voice soft, “I guess dinner it is.”

xxx

I wrote this just for myself because I miss my little diva so so much. But I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. The picture above is one of my favorites, Elvis in his favorite blanket, sleeping on my hand.

[ghost-proofbaby]

SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)

CHAPTER THREE: ALL TOO WELL

AND I KNOW IT'S LONG GONE AND THERE WAS NOTHING ELSE I COULD DO, AND I FORGET ABOUT YOU LONG ENOUGH TO FORGET WHY I NEEDED TO.

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, description of panic attack, minors dni

☆ WC: 5.7K+

☆ A/N: it'll be a short fic, i said. short and sweet and simple, i lied to myself.

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

The moment your name leaves his lips, you swear the world halts on its rotation. 

This was real. Every fear and every anxiety you had wrestled with over the last twenty four hours wasn’t for naught – he was here, sitting before you, breathing your name out like a sigh of relief when all you felt was pain. Stabbing, radiating pain. It’s even worse than looking at pictures and headlines of a stranger on a phone screen. Something about him suddenly being tangible, suddenly being real, sends you reeling. 

Lydia looks wildly between your showdown with the ghost of a man before you, “I’m sorry… Do you two- do you know each other?”

Not anymore.

“I-” you choke on your stutter. You’re frozen under his stare, going ashen as your head spins. Leave the room. Think of an excuse, get out of this room, run away. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

It’s the world’s most pathetic excuse, but the only thing you can spit out before you’re turning heel and running, just as your body had so desperately craved. You nearly bump into one of the security guards you’d just bravely had a confrontation with. 

They’d demanded your phone, you had put up a fight. You had stood your ground. Had held your chin high, dared them to push further even once they had your cell phone in their grasp, and displayed all that self-assuredness you had curated in the last two years. Only to end up scampering past them like a wounded animal mere seconds later.

Pathetic.

Lydia calls out something after you, but it reaches deaf ears as you blaze down the hallway. Your chest is squeezing, as if someone had wrapped it in shrink-wrap and sucked all of the air right out of it, swathed so tightly you could feel every pounding beat of your pulse racing. Your eyesight completely blurs, not quite from tears but rather a mere loss of focus. You nearly knock over one of the god forsaken fake plants Lydia insists as a primary form of decor, hardly being within the right mind to reach out and right the oversized bush of green plastic. 

But you don’t have to. Right as your back collides with the wall off to the side of the plant, breathing only coming in short and miserable pants, a different hand reaches out to catch the plant. A ringed hand. 

When Eddie says your name again, it’s not a sigh. It’s laced with panic as you support your full weight against white plaster and stare at where knuckles wrap around faux wooden stems. 

“Hey,” he stresses, hand leaving your line of sight as he puts a large palm on each of your shoulders. You can’t look at him, not yet, “Hey, can you breathe for me? C’mon, big breaths.” 

This close, you can smell the cologne. It’s not even the same woodsy drugstore scent that had lingered on the pillowcases he’d left you to cling to while on tour. Even that, something so miniscule as what cologne he now wore, had changed. And the new and unfamiliar scent chokes you, turns your desperate gasps for air even more futile. 

You had walked out of that apartment two years ago, without any intention of ever being this close to him again. You’d sworn to yourself you’d never be this close again. 

“You’re having a panic attack,” he squeezes your shoulders within his hold ever so slightly, as if attempting to ground you, “You need to breathe.” 

Your eyes nervously find his brown ones. For a second, you recall summer days when the sun would hit them just right, turning them into molten honey for your tasting. Soft and glowing, warming you from the inside out so effortlessly. 

But there’s not a single shred of sunlight in this hallway. The dark brown falls flat against your vision. 

“I’m fine,” you very clearly aren’t, struggling to even get the words out into the air between you two, “I’m- I’m fine.”

He doesn’t fight you when you reach up to swat away his hands. He lets you, hands falling away with ease, touch retracting as if it had never burned you. You take the chance to look over the metal now settled on his fingers, and you realize he still wears all the same ones you remember so vividly. A cross, a pig’s face, an animalistic skull. But there are new ones added to his collection, adorned on his right hand rather than the left. Unfamiliar and odd, the bulky metallic additions are more plentiful. A silver snake wrapped around his pinky, a large spider with the body of a Magic 8 ball on his pointer, a bat spread eagle on his middle. There’s a chunkier one on his thumb, thinner ones added above a few of his second knuckles, but you can’t clear the haze of your vision long enough to pick up on the designs. You choose to focus back on the familiar ones instead, old and comforting even in your panic. 

New rings, new cologne, new habits – the Eddie before you is not the Eddie you once knew. 

“Okay,” he’s whispering now. You’re not even sure what excuse he used to follow you out here without causing a scene. Maybe he did cause a scene, surely a grander one than you. He had that privilege now; he was an untouchable rockstar, he could afford to raise a ruckus. “I… Are you sure?” 

It’s hard to believe there was a time he was a familiar comfort when all that remains now is the awkward distance between the two of you.

But when he takes a step back from you, the new cologne leaves your stratosphere and the new rings leave your field of vision, and the breaths finally come just a tiny bit easier. Still not enough to satiate your lungs, but enough that the headrush begins to pass. 

“I’m sure.” 

You try to insert such finality in those two words. As if whatever had just happened would fade and never exist, as if you could walk back into that conference room and take yourself off this project. You can’t. Eddie has a sense of control, a grip on his reality and the reigns of his choices, but you don’t. If you were to demand Lydia remove you from the project, you’d be risking termination. You’d be risking everything – and it may not be much, but you’d built it brick by broken brick these last few years. You’d salvaged what you had been able to out of the ashes of what had been, but it hadn’t been enough. It had hardly been enough for a foundation. You’d built up the person that now stood before him from practical scratch.

The weight of just how much you had to lose hits suddenly – the realization that this was happening and you had no control of it. 

But Eddie did. He had to. 

“You need to go back in there,” you start, voice still shaking and eyes still averted, “And you need to demand that they reassign you guys. You… You need-” you begin to stutter and fumble to find the right words. You could have lashed out, could have tried to pour salt in a wound you weren’t even sure still existed so that Eddie made the choice on his own. But your mind is muddled and you’re desperate, “Someone else can take on the project. You need to go and demand that someone else takes on the project.” 

“What?” Not the response you wanted. Not the response you needed, “I- No.” 

Two years later, and he still found a way to do significant damage. 

Your eyes snap up, “What do you mean no?” 

“I mean no.”

“I haven’t asked anything of you. Not back then, not after everything happened, I-”

He cuts you off with a scoff. “Can’t ask for anything if you just fall off the face of the fucking earth.” 

You hadn’t noticed before, but as his walls begin to build, you realize that the prior interaction had been something vulnerable. Something where neither of you were on the defense quite yet like you’d always imagined a reunion would go. All that had mattered ten seconds ago was you being okay, him coming after you, making sure you were fine. He’d allotted you all the care and attention you had craved so terribly two years ago, nearly begged for until your knees had bled for. 

“Eddie,” you whisper, getting too distressed to think straight, “Please, for the love of God, just make them reassign the project-”

“I can’t,” he interrupts, shaking his head, “Do you think I’d put myself through this if I could help it? I fucking can’t. I have absolutely no control in there. I didn’t even-” he cuts off his sentence, looking you in your eyes, leaving more to be said. 

He didn’t even what?

“I can’t do anything about it,” he says instead of whatever had been on the tip of his tongue, “Trust me – if I could, I would. But I can’t. So why don’t you say something?” 

It’s your turn for scoffing and disbelief, “I can’t. I’m not the one with all the power and glory-”

“Is that what you think I have?”

“That’s what I know you have.” 

You both go quiet as a battlefield fills the distance between you. All anger, all regret. None of the love or care that had once existed between you two exists here in this quantum plane of sharp words and deadly jabs. 

“Just- please ask for a reassignment,” you try with one final plea, eyes hard on him, “Say that that first impression left you unimpressed, I don’t care. She won’t fire me for that.”

“Once again, no. As it turns out,” his voice is low, dangerous, unfamiliar. A tone he had never used before with you, “Even the one with all the power and all the glory can’t make miracles happen. Sorry, doll.” 

He doesn’t await your response, leaving you on your own as you stay pressed against the wall and he’s walking away. 

What is the saying? ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’? 

You were certainly feeling scorned.

You felt ripped wide open, beaten and bruised and damn scorned as he leaves a conversation you weren’t finished with. You can’t tell which limb aches the most – the shoulder where his now strange hands had held onto you, your fingers that had curled into pained fists at your side to show you were prepared for a fight, your rib cage that still struggled to expand and accommodate the air now vacant of his cologne that you needed after your panic attack, or the legs that had once carried you away from Eddie Munson only to lead you right back to him. 

There’s nothing you can do, though, beyond composing yourself. You take the same big, deep breaths that Eddie had tried to coax out of you moments before. Your fists slowly unfurl and your palms rake against the side of your jeans in an attempt to wipe away the sweat of the interaction. 

Fine. If he wouldn’t help you, you could handle this. You could manage this project, plan a goddamn party for your ex-boyfriend’s new single. You would treat it just as you did every other previous project you had excelled at, and you would avoid all unnecessary contact with him just as you had with previous clients. 

As a matter of fact, you could probably get away with avoiding all contact. 

He hadn’t hired you. His management had. And, according to him, he had no real power in this situation. If he had no say in the matters, then there would be no reason to reach out to him.

You could do this. You could handle this. 

It’s a mantra of salvation that you repeat to yourself internally as you take confident strides back to that conference room, not even stopping for the guards this time before you burst back into the room when your imminent doom awaits. 

The repetition falters a bit when all eyes land on you as you take your first steps into the room. 

Your name comes out of Lydia’s mouth like a hiss, her teeth locked into a smile that would better pass into a grimace as she asks, “How nice of you to join us again. Please, take a seat.” 

“Of course,” you can’t look her in her eyes for very long, immediately rushing to sit at the chair she’d motioned towards. You haven’t spared Eddie a single glance – you haven’t spared any of the boys you’d once known a look. Instead, you look up to direct an apology at the only face you don’t recognize before you, “I’m truly sorry.” 

The older gentleman, wrapped in a certain kindness and warmth below his professional attire, smiles. And in an instant, his face isn’t quite as unfamiliar, “No worries. When Nature calls, right? Regardless, I’m Matt. Nice to meet you.” 

You can guess which hole in Eddie’s life he’s attempting to smother, which shoes this man serves to fill. He has more hair than his predecessor, but the grin is the same. 

If you picture the man he reminds you of back in Hawkins, you’ll surely begin to ache. 

When you reply with your name, you can hear a fragment of your youth in your voice. Better days spent in Forest Hills trailer park, loitering about a trailer as Wayne Munson asks you how well of an eye you’ve been keeping on his nephew. You’d always lie, say you were keeping him in line when you knew you’d spent the day following him right into trouble, like some sort of lost puppy. Like some sort of loyal soldier. It occurs to you that that’s who you had always been; a fierce soldier over the shoulder of Eddie, ever the brave commander. You would have followed him into battle without a second of consideration, you did follow him all the way to New York without ever taking a final glance at your hometown. 

You wondered if he had tried to replace you as well. You imagine it; the new and fresh face that replaced yours in picture frames, that laid beside him at the end of each night he returned home, that heard a whisper of I love you over the line to the backtrack of a sound rehearsal. 

Were there ever any bloody wars between him and his new lovers that could compare to the battles never fought between you two? Did anyone else in this world know the wounds of his gun never fired? 

The smoke clears. You still don’t look at Eddie, afraid to only see the commander you once knew. You force a smile, putting on a soldier's bravado that doesn’t fit quite right anymore. 

Bullets never fired, triggers never pulled, but the blood stained the same.

“So, where shall we begin?”

—

Matt does most of the talking for the next hour. Sheet after sheet of paperwork is laid down in front of you, your hand beginning to cramp from signing your name so many times, and the details are discussed.

A new single, set to release in three months. A release party that needed to be grandeur and garner the type of attention that Matt feared had been waning from the band due to radio silence on their music front. The outlines of the project were clear cut, simple enough, and you had yourself fooled just well enough that this would be easy.

You kept your eyes set on the prize and never once noticed the tomfoolery occurring between the band members. The words on the tip of their tongues that Eddie keeps quiet through quick kicks to their shins beneath the table, the individual hurt reflected in each of their eyes as you treat them no better than strangers. That treatment of Eddie, they understood. But them?

They could never understand. 

“What’s the name of the single, if I may ask?” you question as you look over one of your copies of the paperwork. Lydia had been eerily silent, allowing you to take the lead. 

Despite the rough start, it was paying off. Having a switch for your emotions can be a good thing, as it turns out. 

“You may,” Matt nods before turning to the boys. It’s the first time he's looked to them for answers during the entire meeting, “Shall I do the honors, or would you boys rather do it yourselves?” 

It’s a chance for all the members of Corroded Coffin to open their mouths without silent reprimanding from Eddie beneath the table, but he beats them to it.

“Dial Tone.”

You freeze your reading. 

There’s something in the way he says it that forces you to look up. As if he’s only speaking to you, and the rest of the room is a faded mirage for him to send away for these private moments. Still a commander, even when his bravest soldier has left him. 

“Sounds… interesting,” you murmur, taking a few seconds too long to meet his gaze, unsure of what to say, “Rolls off the tongue easily.” 

“It certainly does. Which, ironic, given the situation that inspired the song.” 

“And what would that be?”

You’re both wearing masks in front of an audience half made up of people painfully aware of your history, and the rest being painfully oblivious. 

Does Matt know about you? Lydia certainly doesn’t know about Eddie. 

“Words never said. Answers never given. Phone calls missed and never… returned.”

You’re not stupid, but you wish you were. It feels a bit selfish, a bit self absorbed, to so quickly assume you’re the inspiration. 

But how could you believe anything else when Eddie is looking at you like that?

Hollow eyes, devoid of all the honey you once reveled in. Not so much of a stain of sweetness you swear you still taste on the back of your tongue. He’s looking at you with blame, well-deserved anger, and yet not an ounce of the guilt that should exist somewhere in those depths. 

“How riveting,” you play along, trying to swallow down the waves of emotions, “Sounds like it’ll really draw in your audience. Might even be relatable to a few.”

Answers never given. Like how someone could stop saying they loved someone they’d spent years planning their life with, like how he could stop calling so easily, how he could leave so easily. 

“Fingers crossed,” his forced smile in return is almost sinister, and you know it was the right choice to avoid speaking to each other until this moment.

There will be no contact. You know now that if you take on this project, which you technically have through law-binding contracts, that you won’t be able to be civil with Eddie. There is a history that can never be erased, mistakes made and wounds inflicted by both sides. Two worlds of hurt caused by opposing sets of hands that can only clash when they try to meet in the middle. 

But then Matt, sweet Matt that you had come to actually like during this meeting, has to burst your bubble.

“Right, well, the good news is the boys aren’t on tour for the time being, meaning there will be plenty of time to talk about the small details and how the single will come into play during planning,” he explains, happily and still so unaware, “As a matter of fact, I would like to emphasize just how much I would appreciate you including the boys, especially Eddie, in this ordeal. His participation would be very helpful.” 

Some silent form of communication happens between Matt and Eddie, glinting eyes and sudden frowns meeting raised eyebrows and fake smiles, but it’s not your concern. 

The last thing you want during this project is Eddie’s involvement. 

“Of course!” You need to think of an excuse, push for a way to keep him out, “But if Eddie is too busy, I’ll completely understand. I know that a single usually means an album, and that can be very time consum-”

“He won’t be too busy,” Matt interrupts, still staring at Eddie as if he’s daring him, not even questioning you singling him out as he does the exact same.

You recall what Eddie had insisted in the hallway, that his reach of control wasn’t as far as you had been assuming. 

Swallowing hard, you see another relic of Wayne Munson in this man – he wasn’t someone to argue with, “Right, of course. Eddie will be involved. Absolutely.” 

All the power and all the glory – but did it really rest in Eddie’s palms like you assumed?

“She has a point,” Eddie finally finds his voice, leaning back in his chair, trying to relax the tension from his shoulders, “I do have the album to work on.” 

“And now you have this. I’m sure you can find a way to multi-task.” 

Your comparison was accurate. It had been a while since you had seen another grown man capable of shutting Eddie down so quickly, tearing down his walls of affinity for challenging authority and reducing him to nothing more than a shell of his younger self. Matt and Wayne would have gotten along well. You doubt that they’ve met, but you know a bond would have formed between the common denominator of being able to subdue the once-rambunctious boy before you. 

Eddie pouts nearly the complete remainder of the meeting. And those foolish, bitter shards within you become determined to be the bigger person. To smile and nod along, even when you disagreed with certain terms discussed. To be agreeable, to be good, to be better. This new version of you has something to prove; that you’ve done better without Eddie, that you’ve changed into something that no longer aligns with who he is. 

It’s all for show, but you tell yourself no one can see through the cellophane disguise. 

The only remaining signatures aren’t required from you but the rest of the boys. A single contract is passed down the line, and each of them sign themselves away to the agreement. Line after line of swooping black ink locks the five of you into an entrapment, a crowded dance of newly made strangers who have no choice but to play pretend. 

Eddie makes it a deliberate point that he’s the last one to sign. Forces Grant to slide the prettily detailed paper right in front of him until it’s clear he’s making no move to pick up his pen, and the poor guy has to stretch a bit further and let Gareth take it rather than the stubborn rockstar. Only once Jeff’s own night-shade of ink has looped over one of the many lines does it return back to Eddie.

He looks you in the eyes for several seconds too long, pen crooked beside the paper on the table. You can’t take a single breath as you register how lifeless his eyes remain. 

He’s not the person you once knew, but you are no longer the girl that once saw the world in him. 

You will not drop to your knees before him, you will not worship the ground he walks on, you will not break. Certainly not first. Certainly not at all. 

There’s no final words before hands donning unfamiliar rings pick up a pen amongst the silence. Just the click of bringing the ink to life, and the soft scratch of promises that will not be kept. It’s nothing new amongst the two of you.

As a matter of fact, if the scratch of the pen could echo, it might just resemble the sound of the door on that haunted and vacant apartment closing for the final time behind you two years ago. 

—

“Do you two know each other?” 

You had been waiting for this moment. Once Matt had called for a quick break so that he could organize and make copies of all paperwork, you knew Lydia would be chasing you down. 

“What do you mean?” you question airily, topping off the small paper cup of water you had used as an excuse to dismiss yourself into the corner of the room, “Me and Matt? No, I’ve never-”

“Not you and Matt,” she moves to stand in front of you, your back to the room and the band, as she continues in an authoritative whisper, “You and the band – you and Eddie.”

“Why do you think we know each other?” 

Please don’t catch on. Please don’t notice. Please don’t make me admit it. 

Please don’t fire me. 

She retrieves her own water, moving as if she wasn’t having such an intense conversation with you at this moment. All a show for the clients, no doubt. You weren’t the only skilled actress in this room, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the way you ran out of this room when you saw him, maybe the way he ran after you without a word. Maybe the way the two of you spent a good ten minutes alone in that hallway, and how the rest of that band has been looking at you like you’re a ghost. Please don’t tell me you had a fling with Eddie before this. I really need my best person on this project, but I can’t have personal relationships interferin-”

“No, we don’t know each other,” you cut her off, ignoring the compliment and taking a sip to give your chance to formulate a better addition to the lie. It wasn’t really a lie, though, was it? “I promise it’s nothing, and it won’t interfere. I just…” I just hate him. I just miss the version of him I used to know. I just need you to take me off this project as quickly as possible for a reason that won’t make you think less of me or affect my future career here. “I don’t like the band, you know this.” 

“I knew you weren’t a fan of them, but…” she trails off and looks over your shoulder, no doubt surveying the band. When you stood up from the table, they’d all been feigning boredom as if they hadn’t been taking turns staring you down so intensely. You felt like an animal under observation. “I thought it would be a good thing. To have a neutral party take this on. Why, exactly, don’t you like them?” 

“ I don’t think he’s a good person.”

He as in Eddie. It goes as unspoken knowledge. And, technically, it isn’t a lie. Based on the headlines, based on his coolness this entire interaction, you don’t think he’s a good person. Not anymore. 

You can feel the four sets of eyes on you even now. Your exchange with Lydia has been too quiet for them to hear, but you know you’re still being watched carefully.

“You don’t have to think he’s a good person, but you do need to play nice,” Lydia reminds you. You open your mouth, prepared to argue that you had been playing nice when Lydia waves her free hand to stop you, “I know, I know. I’m not saying you haven’t been perfectly professional. You have been, aside from your… bathroom break at the beginning, but please just remember that.” 

You nod, stiff as ever. She was giving you more grace than you deserved if you tried to look at it from an outsider’s point of view. 

“Of course,” that tone of professionalism, that mask to hide the whirlwind of emotions. You could do this.

You had to do this.  

Choice is an illusion when Matt returns with the copies of paperwork, dividing the files up between himself and Lydia. Choice is an illusion as fake smiles are exchanged and pleasant goodbyes are offered. Choice is nothing but smoke and mirrors when all is said and done, and the entire group of you all stand outside the conference room, ready to part ways with a promise of next time, meaning the next meeting.

You never had a choice in any of this. Eddie did, somewhere along the line, but you didn’t. 

Lydia and you both hand over business cards to Matt’s waiting hands, a deliberate move on your part. You bypass Eddie’s expectant glare entirely. The quicker this is over with, the faster he’s exiting the building and no longer occupying the same room as you, the better. 

“We’ll be in contact,” Matt promises as he tucks the cards away carefully. 

“I look forward to it,” you assure him, as if you weren’t dreading every second of what those contracts had detailed.

Three months. You had just signed on to guarantee Eddie Munson being back in your life for three months. The thought makes you nauseous. 

Matt, ever the normal person, takes it as his queue to leave. Lydia has nodded, turned and began her short trek to her office as the band’s manager starts his journey to the elevator. Most of Corroded Coffin scampers after him, gazes on the floor as they retreat to a private space that will certainly be filled with questions. You almost wish there was a way for you to hear what will be said. The topic of conversation, undoubtedly, will be you. You and Eddie, Eddie and you. A pair of intertwined souls that had taken a sharp knife to your connection only to end up with Fate cruelly retying it on this dreadful day. 

Fate, and Eddie, it seems. 

His hand reaches out and catches your upper arm before you can escape the exchange properly. 

“Can we talk?” You stare at him blankly to hide the racing of your heart and pounding in your mind. Those hands on you, skin on skin, leaving an inevitable mark. An inevitable stain. “Go for coffee, go for lunch, just-”

“No.”

You don’t have to think about your answer. Your pause was only born out of shock. 

His eyebrows furrow, “No? What do you mean no?” 

It feels like a pathetic repeat of your interaction in the hallway, when you had begged him to save you from this doomed union. Except now, you hold the cards in your hand. The first sense of control you’ve been offered this entire time. 

“I mean no,” you repeat yourself clearly. Matt is halfway down the hall, and the boys trailing right behind him seem to fumble over their steps for a second. Jeff even goes as far as to look over his shoulder at the brewing storm appearing behind them, but clearly thinks better of intruding, “I don’t want to talk. I don’t want coffee, and I don’t want lunch.” 

End of story. 

Except, it isn’t, because Eddie’s face only twists further in pain, “We have to talk at some point-”

“Actually, we don’t. I’d prefer we didn’t. I think we can both agree it’ll be better, easier, for both of us to keep this strictly professional until we can go our separate ways again.”

He looks as if you had physically reached out and struck him. The force of your words nearly makes him rock backwards, face falling and mouth agape as he tries to grapple with the determination in your words. 

If you were a fool, you’d mistake it for a flash of disappointment. But it’s not possible – it couldn’t be disappointment, only arrogance. He had obviously been assuming you would just give in. Your change just hadn’t become clear enough to him yet. It would, in time. 

And now, the two of you seemingly had too much of it to endure. 

“Actually, I think we can both agree that’s a load of bullshit,” he crassly argues back once he’s regained composure, “You know that’s not possible.”

You shake your head, suck in a bit of the skin of your inner cheek between your molars as an internal encouragement to stand your ground, “It is. It’s not only possible, but is exactly what’s going to happen.”

“You heard Matt. We have to talk at some point, even if it’s just about this and not us.”

“And we will. We can talk about this project all you want, Eddie. But not over lunch, and not over coffee,” you swear you draw blood from your cheek as you take back on that tone of professionalism, ice cold and completely disconnected, “My preferred form of contact is email. I usually respond in a timely manner, even after hours-”

“Don’t do that,” he stops you.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m just another one of your clients.” 

The metallic flavor floods the deepest corners of your mouth, overtaking the aftertaste of a honey you once knew on the back of your tongue, “That’s exactly what you are. One of my clients.” 

Just a client, and nothing more. A boundary must be drawn, or else there will be more blood spilled than a mere drop from biting your inner cheek. And you aren’t prepared to bleed for him – not again. Never again. 

He opens his mouth, as if he has more to dig out of the grave of this conversation, when Matt’s voice calls from down the hallway, “Eddie! C’mon! There’ll be time to talk later, we’ve got a meeting with the producer across town now.” 

His stance goes rigid, annoyance rolling off him in waves, eyes still focused on you. 

Maybe the reminder of time, the three month timeline, hurts him just as much as it hurts you. Maybe, just possibly, his arm has also been twisted in carving out a space for you in his life once more, whether strictly professional or not. 

He deeply exhales through his nose, “I don’t even have your email.” 

“Matt does. He has my card.”

“Yeah, he does. I don’t. How am I supposed to reach you through your preferred form of contact without it?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way.” 

You mean to smile at him just as you would the owner of the bakery opening on Third Street, or the mother of a bride trying to share the weight of responsibilities for a wedding. It doesn’t come off that way, though – you can feel the sadness of it tickle the corners of your mouth before he’s even slowly turning from you.

You watch the figure of Eddie Munson walk away from you, and you begin to wish he were walking out of your life rather than only out of the building for the time being.

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[justsomerandomfanfic]

Hiiii :3 is it possible to request something with either Eddie or Steve from Stranger Things? With a reader who’s deaf and therefore a bit of an outcast? They’re not openly bullied but people avoid/ ignore them and idk just something with a bit of protective energy like Eddie/ Steve defending them against mean people or helping them out in bigger groups and loud environments because others tend to forget or they choose not to talk to reader because it’s tiring that the reader has trouble understanding what’s being said, especially in big groups. So reader always ends up alone and bored at gatherings and parties. I’ve encountered “friends” complaining and refusing to turn on subtitles on tv because it “annoys” them. And people, even friends, are annoyed when I don’t hear them or want to not wear my hearing aids even though they know hearing exhausts me. So I’ve been feeling sorta tired of being deaf and also a tiny little bit down recently..

If you feel uncomfortable or just not like writing anything like that, it’s totally fine!! You can ignore my request in that case 🤍 and I’m sorry for oversharing! I don’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable or ruin anyone’s mood!!

This was fun to write, something new and a bit out of my zone, but I loved working on it! I'm sorry this took so long to get out, but I hope you like it nonetheless! <3333

-Chloe

[rip-quizilla]

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 1

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: An enemies to friends to enemies to lovers story. Slow-burn love story based on the film "When Harry Met Sally"

Word Count: 5.7k

Tags for Entire Fic (from AO3): Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Inspired by When Harry Met Sally (1989), Slow Burn, Romantic Fluff, eventual smut, Good Friend Robin Buckley, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Eddie Munson Lives, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, no one dies, Reader-Insert

Divider was created by the lovely and talented @hellfire--cult❤️

“The first time we met, we hated each other.”

“No, you didn’t hate me, I hated you.”

“The second time we met, you didn’t remember me-”

“I did too, I remembered you!”

“The third time we met, we became friends.”

“We were friends for a long time.”

“And then we weren’t.”

“And then we fell in love.”

Part 1

The first time you met Eddie Munson, he was dressed as Jason Voorhees.

It was Halloween, so the mask wasn’t completely out of the blue. He was 13, his hair was buzzed, and you had never (to your knowledge) spoken a single word to the boy.

The year was 1979. You and your best friend, Robin, had made the executive decision that you were too old for trick-or-treating, opting to stay home and watch scary movies in your bedroom instead. Deaf to the rest of the world, the two of you had holed yourselves up in the darkness of your room, huddled together in front of your TV set under a patchwork quilt your grandmother had made as you watched Carrie go on a blood-soaked killing spree. 

Both of you swore up and down that you weren’t scared, but that didn’t stop either of you from screaming like banshees when a tap at your window revealed Jason’s hockey mask and a plastic knife. 

Though you were only 13 yourself, you’d furiously thrown open your window, jammed your bare feet into a pair of sneakers and launched yourself into a high-speed chase after the stupid, stupid soul who had tried to make a fool out of the wrong girl.

It hadn’t taken you long to catch up to him; the masked menace had slowed down once he’d thought he was far enough from your house. You could see him up ahead, laughing with his friends and reenacting your terrified screams as he waved the prop knife in the air. 

You never stopped running, waiting until you were just about thirty feet from pint-sized Jason before yelling, “You’re dead, dipshit!”

Even though he was wearing a mask, your adversary’s body language spoke for itself- from the way he froze, then turned in the direction of your voice, then took off running- you could tell that he hadn’t expected you to race after him. His friends watched, dazed as you shoved them aside in pursuit of the punk in a mask that you were gaining on with every stride. When you finally caught up to him in the grassy field beside the neighborhood playground, you grabbed the back of his jacket and yanked as hard as you could. 

The kid hit the ground with a loud “Oof”, throwing up his hands in surrender as you stood over him and took the lapels of his denim jacket in your two clenched fists. You could see his big brown eyes behind the mask, wide with terror that matched the shrillness in his voice. 

“Whoa whoa whoa, hey hold- HOLD ON!” He raised his hands out defensively in front of his face. “I’m sorry, okay? Jeez, you caught me, I’m caught, I surrender!”

You paused, glaring at the little heathen for a second before shoving him back on the ground. As soon as you let go, you heard a muffled sigh of release behind the mask as the terror before you unmasked himself. You recognized the kid’s face, but couldn’t quite place where you knew him from.

“Do I know you?” you asked, hands placed on your hips. You took a couple of steps back, allowing him room to push himself off the ground.

The kid looked at his feet, avoiding your eye contact as he huffed out a humorless laugh. “Of course.” he muttered to himself before answering your question at normal volume. “Yeah, uh, Eddie Munson. We have history together.” 

You watched him, unmoving, raising an eyebrow. When he looked up and saw your skeptical expression, his eyes widened and he practically hopped up off the ground. “Class! History class!” He brushed his hands on his jeans before shoving them in his pockets and looking back down at the grass between his sneakers. “We’re in the same history class.”

You nodded slowly, still struggling to place him in your memory. “Cool.” you replied, face expressionless. “So you snuck over to my window in a Jason mask… why? Exactly?” Your tone was sharp and accusing.

The kid- Eddie- looked at you confused, as if he hadn’t heard you right. He looked around, gesturing vaguely to the various trick-or-treaters, plastic pumpkin heads and candy-filled pillow cases held in each sticky little fist. 

“It’s Halloween,” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m going to everyone’s windows.” 

“Just to scare people?” You asked, the accusatory tone of your voice impossible to miss. “You have nothing better to do?” 

He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest as he defensively avoided your eyes. You waited a moment in silence before huffing out a breath and stomping past him. Robin was still sitting in your bedroom, undoubtedly on the verge of a nervous breakdown after being scared half to death and abandoned soon thereafter. 

“Whatever. Stay away from me.” you left him with those parting words and marched back to your house, Ready to go back to school on Monday and thoroughly ignore him in history class. 

The second time you met Eddie Munson, you were at the Hawkins High Winter Formal, circa 1982.

You were clip-clopping angrily in your satin heels and ignoring the obnoxious way they echoed in the eerily empty tiled hallway. “Tyler, hold on.” you bit out, struggling to keep the desperation in your chest from seeping into your tone. “Tyler, wait!” You reached out and managed to grab your date by the crook of his elbow, but he shrugged you off. 

“Forget it, I’m going.” he grunted, not even bothering to face you. “I never wanted to go to this dumb dance anyway.” 

The cool chill of December night air hit you hard as he launched the exit doors open. Your arms flew up to shield your bare shoulders from the icy breeze, heels crunching against the uneven concrete as you stepped through the open doorway.

“Tyler, this is so stupid! Just come back inside, it’s freezing!” 

He just shook his head, making a beeline for his beat-up baby blue pickup. You’d matched your dress to that pickup. You had searched every boutique in Hawkins to find the perfect shade of baby blue… and now he was leaving you to drive away in it. 

Tyler continued to ignore you as he opened the driver-side door, hopped in, stuck his key in the ignition, and pulled out of the parking lot. That left you standing in the cold, shivering in silence- completely alone.

Or so you’d thought.

“Trouble in paradise?”

The taunting question came from behind you, some twenty feet or so down the wall. You turned to see who had witnessed your embarrassingly loud spat with your date, and immediately gave a sigh and an eye roll when you saw who it was. 

Eddie’s hair had grown long over the years, dark curls now coiled past his earlobes, just shy of brushing the shoulders of his black leather jacket. The way it framed his face in the warm lamplight- it struck you that Eddie Munson was actually kind of pretty. Certainly easier on the eyes than he had been with that ridiculous buzzcut. You were surprised to see him here- dances didn’t seem like his thing. Obviously, he didn’t know the meaning of the word formal, judging by the absence of any clothing items that might deserve the word. He leaned casually against the dimly-lit brick wall, hands in his pockets and eyeing you curiously.

“Mind your business, Munson.” You scowled, turning to grasp the handle of the door- and felt your heart plummet when you realized the door was locked. 

“All the doors but the ones by the front office are set to lock from the outside.” Eddie supplied you with an answer to a question you hadn’t needed to ask. “You’ll have to go all the way around.” 

You huffed out a frustrated, humorless chuckle. “I wouldn’t say I’m all too eager to go back in there in the first place.”

Silence hung in the air between the two of you. Weighing your options for a moment, you settled on postponing your inevitable embarrassment by joining Eddie Munson in leaning against the painted brick wall. You knew the way your friends talked about Tyler; how they’d tell you he was always an asshole and they’d told you such since the beginning of your relationship. 

You’d rather deal with the school outcast right now.

Eddie’s eyebrows stayed raised on his forehead for nearly a full minute once you took up your spot next to him on the wall. You didn’t say anything, not for a while. Finally, the silence was broken when you let out a loud, involuntary shiver, hands clutching your shoulders and rubbing up and down your upper arms in a desperate attempt to warm up.

Eddie glanced over at you, rolling his eyes at how pointedly you were avoiding his eye contact. Letting out a heavy sigh, he asked with the least amount of enthusiasm possible-

“Do you want my jacket?”

You looked up at him, a look that mixed incredulity and disgust painted across your expression. “Well not when you ask like that.”

Eddie scrunched up his nose, dropping one eyebrow while the other stood its ground. “Like what?”

“Like it’s an obligation.”

“Like what’s an obligation?”

You huffed, “Offering me your jacket!”

Eddie chuckled humorlessly, “Now why,” he spoke your first and last name as if it were a pompous title like ‘Grand Duchess’ or ‘Queen of Sheba’,  “-would I feel obligated to offer you my jacket?”

You huffed. Again. The sound of your heels crunching once more over the pavement as you turned to face him tore through the silent winter air. You couldn’t believe you were explaining this to him, as if he didn’t already know. 

“When a girl is cold, and she doesn't have a jacket, boys are taught that they’re supposed to offer that girl their jacket.”

Eddie nodded as you spoke, as if he were an eager student learning something life-changing from his favorite professor. “Fascinating, fascinating… and who teaches this to boys?” 

You crossed your arms over your chest defensively, wishing he would just give up the bit and hand over his jacket. “Seriously?” 

He waited, smiling eagerly. You couldn’t stand this guy.

 “Ugh, I don’t know, fathers, I guess?”

“Ahh, well you see-” Eddie muttered, waving his pointer finger in the air as if he were about to shout ‘eureka’. “-I didn’t grow up with a father, so where did I learn it then?”

You knew he was trying to make you feel bad. Trying to make you uncomfortable so you left him alone. You wouldn’t play his game, though. 

Giving him a haughty smile and shaking your head slightly, you replied, “Well maybe your mother knew to teach you anyways and you learned it from her.”

Eddie sucked his teeth, making a sympathetic hiss to accompany the wince on his face. “That’s the thing, my mom’s dead so I don’t have one of those either.” 

You came up short after that one. Remorse weighed heavy in your chest, realizing that the game you were playing may not be worth winning.

You were both silent for nearly a minute before you spoke-

“Does the offer to take your jacket still stand?”

“What if it doesn’t?” His retort was bitter and immediate. 

You sighed heavily, closing your eyes and hanging your head in defeat. “Then I would understand completely, due to my being a bitch.” 

He looked at you, took in your pitiful, shivering form, and rolled his eyes again. “Jesus Christ, here-”

Eddie shrugged off his leather jacket and placed it over your shoulders. You immediately felt yourself relax into it, feeling the warm satiny lining melt like butter onto your gooseflesh skin. You tugged it tight around yourself and slipped your arms into the sleeves. 

“Thank you.” you said warmly, giving him a grateful and apologetic smile. 

Silence settled over the two of you again, and you were curious if he felt the elephant in the room trumpeting as loudly as you did. You decided to test the waters. 

“So… what did you do this Halloween?”

You nearly jumped when Eddie clapped loudly, spinning in a circle and grinning at you like a kid who’d just beat their high score at the arcade. 

“You remember!” He laughed, elated and grinning at you so largely that you couldn’t help but grin in return. 

“Remember what? The heart attack you almost gave me, or the look on your face when I tackled you to the ground?” You were laughing with him, pride and nostalgia painting your smile with colors that matched the glee in his eyes. He’d remembered that night for years, he couldn’t get it out of his head if he tried. 

“How about the way it made you remember my name?” His eyes sparkled, cockiness written on every inch of his face.

You gawked, a little bit impressed by his forwardness. Was Eddie Munson flirting with you? That was the last thing you’d expected out of tonight. You decided to play along. 

“Well yeah, how else was I going to report you to the police for public disturbance?” 

“You could’ve just given them a physical description and they’d’ve known it was me, disturbing the public is a favorite pastime of mine.”

“It was dark, I couldn’t see you well enough to give a thorough description.” 

“You can see me now, what would you tell them?” 

Eddie was quiet, patient…waiting for you to take the bait. You were just about to, before you were interrupted by the rev of an engine at the end of the parking lot. It snapped you out of your trance. 

Glancing up toward the source of the sound, you felt a wash of relief when you identified it as Tyler’s pickup truck. Quickly, you slipped out of Eddie’s jacket, shoving it into his arms and rushing to meet Tyler at the curb. You stopped after a few steps to look back at Eddie. 

“That’s Tyler, I need to go talk to him. Thanks for letting me wear your jacket, and I’m sorry about-”

Eddie hissed out a sharp laugh, digging into his pockets and retrieving a cigarette and lighter. He shook his head ruefully, muttering a “Just go. Have fun at the dance.” and that was that. You were dismissed, conversation over. 

Which was a good thing, right? Tyler wouldn’t like you hanging out with “The Freak”…  This was better. You took a few more steps forward, stopped, then looked over your shoulder one more time at Eddie. 

He was staring straight at you. Your heart rate accelerated exponentially. 

BEEP BEEEEEP!

Tyler was parked at the curb. 

Plastering a forgiving smile on your face you rushed to the truck. “Coming, I’m coming!”

Eddie watched you climb into the car. He looked away when Tyler the asshat glared daggers at him. He pretended to be more interested in his cigarette than the fact that this guy treated you like garbage, yet you still ran to him like a lost puppy. He ignored the wishful thinking that someone might ever look at him the way you’d just looked when that truck pulled up to the curb. 

Your dress matched his car. Had you done that on purpose? If he had asked a girl to the dance, would she have found a dress to match his van? That would be a horrible idea, his van was dingleberry brown and laminate countertop yellow. Eddie was pretty sure those weren’t going to be colors featured in the latest Gunne Sax catalog. 

Tyler’s baby blue pickup parked in the back of the lot. Eddie watched the lights shut off. Neither of you got out of the truck.

He took another drag from his cigarette.

The third time you met Eddie Munson was in the theater department during your junior year. 

You’d joined theater because you needed the fine arts credit. Thus far in your high school career, you hadn’t signed up for choir (your voice sucked), band (you didn’t have time to practice with your part time job at Scoops Ahoy), or drawing & painting (you couldn’t draw for shit). Ergo, theater was your only option. Unfortunately for you- and for the theater director, Mr. Chavez- you soon discovered that you have horrible stage fright. 

In lieu of forcing you to play a part onstage, Mr. Chavez said he would award you credit for the class if you agreed to be stage manager for this year’s spring play. That was why you were in the theater department late into the afternoon on a Friday, gluing fake moss to a fake tree.

You’d been warned that the Dungeons &Dragons club had their sessions in the theater on Friday nights, so you weren’t surprised when Eddie Munson and his band of merry nerds waltzed into the auditorium. 

Eddie, however, was surprised to see you.

He paused mid-sentence when he was greeted by the sight of you, hot glue gun in hand, bent over a long piece of cardboard cut to resemble a cartoonish-looking tree.

“Uhh,” he started, “Hellfire has the auditorium on Fridays.” 

You nodded, glancing up at him as if you’d just noticed his presence. “Yeah, I’ll stay out of your way, just working on set pieces for the play. You won’t even know I’m here.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing you suspiciously. “I doubt that.” he muttered, but it was loud enough for you to hear. You took the high road and chose to ignore it. 

You stayed focused on your half-finished cardboard tree while Eddie and his cronies began setting up for whatever Dungeons & Dragons was. You were pretty sure it was a board game or something, you hadn’t heard much about it other than it was another thing that everyone made fun of Eddie for. 

Time passed. You held true to your word- as more Hellfire members showed up and sat down to begin their game, you continued to mind your business and silently work on your set pieces. You remained quiet as a mouse, but as time continued to tick on, you couldn’t help but catch bits and pieces of Eddie’s narration as the game progressed. You’d finished your work about forty-five minutes after the game began, but you’d become so engrossed in the story that Eddie was spinning for his friends that you pretended to be busy until their playing drew to a close for the night. You could see why these kids loved the game when they had someone like Eddie leading them through the storyline- he was a very immersive storyteller, unafraid to use a different voice for every character, transforming every aspect of himself to suit the needs of the story. 

When they all began to pack up, you did the same and busied yourself with gathering your belongings into your backpack. To your surprise, you noticed a pair of Chuck Taylors out of your peripheral walking toward you. 

“You uhh…” Eddie said, bending a knee to help you gather your things. “...you get all of your work done?” 

You gratefully accepted your composition notebook from him. “Um, everything I needed to finish tonight, yeah.” You replied, offering him a smile. “That game actually seems cool, you’re a good storyteller.”

That seemed to flatter him enough to elicit a genuine smile. “Yeah? You liked it?” you nodded, grin slipping further until it showed your teeth. Eddie tucked his head down shyly, but still unable to hide the obvious satisfaction on his face. “So when’s the play?”

You sighed. “Not for about three weeks. I’m the stage manager, so I’ve got my work cut out for me… pretty sure I’ll need to keep staying late on Fridays until then if I’m going to be ready in time-”

“You can’t work on it any other day of the week?” He interrupted.

You balked. Well, at least he isn’t beating around the bush… but still, rude. 

Eddie, who winced the moment he’d spoken, seemed to read your mind. “Shit, that came across ruder than I’d meant- I just meant that I didn’t realize you were so busy every other day.” 

You eyed him suspiciously. Yeah, sure. Nice save. 

“Well,” you sigh, “I tutor on Mondays and Tuesdays, work on Wednesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, and-”

“Where do you work?” Eddie interrupted… again. 

You tried not to let your frustration seep into your tone. “I, uhh, I work at that ice cream shop at the mall, Scoops Ahoy.” 

Eddie’s smug smile was slow as it crept across his face. “Wait… is that the place with the little sailor outfits?”

You rolled your eyes; you’d walked right into this one. “Yes, it is.” 

He bit his lip, like he wanted to say something but was holding it back. “Geez, they better pay you well if you have to wear that monstrosity.”

You chuckled, zipping up your backpack and pulling it over your shoulder as you stood up. “Yeah, pay’s not too bad. It’s enough that I should be able to pay to get my car fixed by the end of the school year, so that-”

“What happened to your car?”

You huffed, annoyed. “God, Munson, you ever heard someone finish a sentence before?”

Eddie’s eyes widened, his open mouth clamping shut. Your angry eyes softened- your tone had been a bit harsh. 

“Sorry-”

“Sorry-”

You both apologized simultaneously, followed by a chuckle from the both of you. After a beat of silence, Eddie smiled tightly and gestured for you to go first. 

“I drive an old car, and it needs a few parts replaced before I can take it back out on the road safely… so until then, I’m a perpetual pedestrian.” 

Eddie frowned, arms crossed over his chest. “You’re walking home?”

You nodded, not seeing the problem. “I don’t live far, it’s only a ten minute walk.” 

He didn’t seem satisfied by that reply. “It’s pretty dark out, you want me to just drive you home?” 

You opened your mouth to decline his offer, but no sound came out. He had a point- the path home wasn’t very well-lit; some might even consider it dangerous, since there wasn’t a sidewalk for most of your route. You gave him a slightly apologetic smile. 

“You’re sure it won’t be any trouble?”

He shook his head, eyebrows scrunching as if it were ludicrous for you to even ask the question. “Nah, don’t worry about it.” Gesturing to the table- which was now deserted by the other members (when had they all left?)- Eddie said, “Just let me get all my stuff together and we’ll head out, cool?”

You nodded, smiling gratefully. “Yeah, cool. Thanks, Eddie.”

He waved you off, busying himself with the multitudes of papers and little plastic figures strewn across the table.

Once you were both ready to leave, you followed Eddie out to his car- er, van. It was a very large van. Once inside, the smell of weed was unmistakable. Eddie realized this the moment you sat down. 

“Sorry about the, uh…” he began, wincing and gesturing to the air around him. 

“...weed smell?” you supplied, smirking.

He barked out a nervous laugh. “Yeah. Didn’t know if you’d recognize it.”

You feigned offense, placing a dramatic hand over your heart as he turned the key in the ignition. “Edward Munson, are you drawing the conclusion that I’m a prude who can’t place the smell of marijuana?” 

He laughed- a real laugh, haughty and unbridled. “Well for starters, people who smoke marijuana don’t call it marijuana.” You felt the shocks working beneath your seat as he shifted the car from park to drive, pulling out of his parking space and exiting the lot. 

“Okay, you blew my cover.” You giggled. “What do you call it, then?” 

Eddie made a show of thinking it over. “Oh, lots of things- weed, mary jane, grass- the devil’s lettuce is my personal favorite.” 

You snorted. “That’s one I haven’t heard before.” 

“I love teaching people new  things.” Eddie smiled, taking his eyes off the road a moment to flash another smile in your direction. 

A comfortable quiet settled over the van, breaking only for you to advise Eddie on which turns to take on the way to your house. 

After a few moments of silence, Eddie spoke up.

“So are you still dating that guy… Timmy, Tucker…?”

“You mean Tyler?” you supplied.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “God, don’t remind me I ever dated that asshole.” smiling ruefully, you shook your head. “No, he was bad news. A whole three months of my life wasted that I’ll never get back.”

Eddie whistled. “Damn, guy really did a number on you, huh?”

You shrugged. “I think I was so obsessed with the idea of being with someone like him that I missed all the red flags that were so obvious to everyone else. It hurt for a while after I finally broke up with him, but I got over it.”

He was quiet, contemplative as he nodded to your words. You turned to face Eddie completely. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I’ve never heard about you going out with anyone.”

Eddie snorted. “Even if I was going out with someone, I doubt you’d hear about it.”

Your brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean my love life- nonexistent as it is- isn’t exactly the hot gossip of Hawkins High.” Eddie’s eyes never wavered from the road ahead as he turned into your neighborhood. 

You raised your eyebrows at that. “Actually, if you dated someone I think a lot of people would talk about it.”

Eddie looked at you, confused, almost like he didn’t believe you. 

“Seriously,” you confirmed, “When somebody dates all the time, no one really cares who the next person they date is. But when somebody who never dates starts dating somebody, everybody talks about it.”

His expression remained unchanged as he digested that information. After a moment, he sighed, replying, “In that case, I’m never dating anyone until I’m out of Hawkins.” 

“What? Why?” you pointed out your house at the end of the street.

“Because I wouldn’t wish school-wide gossip on anyone, it’s taken me a lifetime to get used to it.” He gave you a snarky smile and shook his head. “Most people aren’t as strong as I am, they’d crack under the weight of infamy.”

You countered his snark with disbelief, but couldn’t hide a smile at his reply. “Well I’m glad you have such a high opinion of yourself, Eddie, but I think you need to give people more credit. The right person wouldn’t care about the gossip, they’d care about you more.”

The van jolted as it came to a stop in front of your house. “Well if I ever find someone who fits that description, I’ll let you know,” Eddie replied, “but until then, I think I’ll let people keep gossiping about me for the normal reasons.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt, hauling your heavy backpack onto your lap. “Such as…?”

“Devil worshiper, white trash, spawn of satan…” Eddie made a show of counting them out on his fingers. You giggled. He grinned. 

“Well, in all seriousness-” you said softly, “I think you’re selling yourself short. I mean don’t get me wrong, you can be annoying as all hell,” You gave him a pointed glance, silently laughing a bit at his wry side-eye, “but from what I can tell, there’s a nice guy hiding underneath all that rockstar hair.”

“Rockstar hair, huh?” You nodded and his grin grew wider, now accompanied by a blush that Eddie hoped you wouldn't see if he looked down at his lap and let his ‘rockstar hair’ form a curtain around his face. You caught it anyway. “While calling me ‘nice’ is very… generous of you, you don’t really know shit about me so I’m not sure that you’re a qualified source-”

“I know you’re the kind of guy who gives his jacket to girls whose dates leave them at dances, and doesn’t embarrass them with questions about why the date is leaving.” It was your turn to interrupt him now. “And now I know you’re also the kind of guy who cares enough to give someone a ride home because it’s dark enough outside for him to fear for their safety.”

 Eddie was quiet, smiling tightly but refusing to meet your eyes. “Well…” he drew the word out until it was three-syllables long. Shyly, he looked up at you through his dark brown curls. “...that’s what friends do, right?”

The smile that bloomed across your face was so sudden, it surprised even you. “We’re friends now, huh?”

He mirrored your smile, back to his devil-may-care brashness that you’d come to expect from him. “I said no such thing, now get out of my van.” His words did nothing to dampen the joy evident on his face.

You laughed in response, pulling the handle of your door to do just that. “Don’t lie to yourself, Munson, I know what I heard!” Your smile was kind, but your eyes said something along the lines of na-na na-na na na.

He said nothing for a moment, just smiled back at you before shaking his head. 

“Bye, friend.” 

Your shoulders shook in a gentle laugh, and you replied, “Bye, friend.” before closing the car door and walking up the concrete walkway to your front porch. Eddie waited until you were inside before driving away. 

That day, four years and five months after you’d initially met Eddie Munson, was the first day of one of the strongest friendships of your life.

That friendship would last for about one year.

Part 2

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie Munson x cheerleader! Reader, Reader breaks up Eddie bc her mom forced her too, she didn't want her daughter, captain of there cheer squad to be with Eddie Munson, both of them are having a bad time without each other, reader can't sleep bc she feels guilty, and she ends up going with her best friends: Robin and Steve, she explains to them what happened and all about her mom, Steve and Rob make a plan, at the end Robin tells reader that she needs to go to the drama room, where Eddie is, and she locks them in there , and Eds says he doesn't want to lose her and that he loves herand they start dating again, despite Reader's mom being pissed off

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

Mom

The second Y/N set her eyes on Eddie Munson it would cause nothing but trouble for herself. He looked like a boy she shouldn't bring home to mom. But that didn't stop her from falling in love.

She spent months sneaking out of her window, Eddie waiting for her in his van. They'd sneak off to anywhere they wanted. She was smitten with him and she couldn't believe he felt the same for her. She knew her mom wouldn't approve, Eddie lived too much of a different lifestyle. He wasn't born rich, wasn't at the top of his classes, and he did things her mother would never support. But she loved him and she wanted to make it work.

She knew she couldn't sneak past her mom for too long, she'd get caught. But she wasn't prepared to lose Eddie.

"Who do you keep sneaking off with?" Y/N froze as she climbed into her bedroom. Her mom was waiting for her on the bed.

"Chrissy is having boyfriend troubles, and I know you wouldn't let me see her but she needed me." Y/N lied, taking off her shoes

"Funny enough, I called Chrissy's mom, and Chrissy was sleeping. So who were you with?" Her mom pushed. Y/N panicked as she was caught in her lie. Chrissy always lied for her but she didn't think about Chrissy's mom ratting her out.

"No one! I needed a walk to clear my head. All this perfect daughter shit is draining me. I wanted fresh air and I know you'd refuse to let me be alone so I said I was with Chrissy." She lied again. But her mother didn't look convinced.

"Clearing your head with Eddie Munson?" Y/N froze as the name left her mother's lips.

"What?"

"I'm not stupid, young lady. You are out there meeting up with Eddie Munson. Doing god knows what kind of drugs. No daughter of mine will be mixed in with a kid like him." Her mother ranted, standing up as she got in Y/N's face.

"A kid like him? What is that supposed to mean!" Y/N scoffed.

"He lives in the trailer park! Who knows what disease he's carrying. I've heard bad things about him, drugs and devil shit. You are NOT seeing him ever again, do you hear me?" Y/N watched in horror as her mom unplugged her phone, snatching the cords with her.

"You will not call him, talk to him, and you will not leave this house for anything other than school and cheer!"

"MOM! That's not fair! YOU CAN'T KEEP ME A PRISONER HERE! I love him and we want to be together. He's not a bad guy! If you met him, you'd see he isn't at all what people describe him to be!" Y/N screamed, but everything she said went on deaf ears.

"I'M YOUR MOTHER AND YOU WILL DO AS I SAY! YOU ARE BREAKING UP WITH HIM AND NEVER SEEING HIM AGAIN."

~~~

Eddie tried to be understanding of the break up. He knew it tore her apart just as much as it did him. He wanted to make it easier for her, hold her and tell her it's alright. He knew he wasn't the type that parents liked. And he knew he wasn't good enough for her.

It killed him to see her walking around the halls, knowing he couldn't walk up and kiss her anymore. The reality that they are broken up and she wasn't his anymore.

Her mom kept her a prisoner. The second cheer ended, her mom was outside the school waiting. Her mom never gave back her phone, she couldn't call Eddie if she wanted to.

The more time passed, and the more they were apart, she realized he was more important than whatever her mom wanted from her. She could barely sleep, the guilt ate her alive. She hated that she picked her mom over Eddie. She knew Eddie tried his best to make it easier, but she didn't deserve that. She could have fought. She should have shown Eddie he was more important and she'd do anything to make their relationship work. But she didn't, she just let her mom win.

Y/N talked to Robin about everything, her guilt, hatred towards her mom, and disappointment within herself. Robin knew that Eddie was hurting through it all, and no separation would heal either. Robin asked Y/N to trust her, so she did.

Now she stood in the drama room with Eddie across from her. His swollen eyes and red nose. His hair was a mess, but that was normal. She felt nervous to speak first, almost like he'd snap the second she opened her mouth.

"I miss you," he whispered, as he opened his arms. An invitation to throw herself in his arms, which she accepted. She dashed into his arms, gripping it tightly as she breathed in his scent.

"I miss you so much." She felt his arms wrap tighter around her, a hand in her hair as he tried to be as close as possible to her.

"I'm so sorry for not fighting. I let her win and I didn't even try for us." She cried, she knew her mom would tear them apart and she still didn't fight against it. "I was prepared for it to happen, and I froze. Our relationship deserves to be fought for and I'm ready to do it."

Eddie pulled back a little to see her face, their bodies still embraced. "You don't need to apologize. I didn't fight either, I just let you do it alone. But now I'm not. We will fight for us together, okay? I'm not going to lose you. I don't care what she throws at us, I'll take care of you." Eddie promised, his forehead pressed against hers. She sniffled and nodded.

A smile on her face as she connected her lips with his.

"I love you." Eddie's heart raced at the words, a full teeth smile on his face as he said the words back.

Y/N would graduate one day, she'd move out and her mom wouldn't have the control. All Y/N needed was Eddie's hand in hers.

tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

[courtingchaos]

An Excuse in the Form of Pie

Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary: A little Thanksgiving ditty for you, just a few days late. This is in my Rent universe but you can just read it on its own if you’d prefer. Takes place like a year into them dating.

Warnings: Sex

NSFW 18+ No Minors

Oh they shouldn’t have trusted either of you two to do shit asked of you. All Wayne had to do was huff at the cardboard box that he was unloading onto your mom’s counter and Eddie was at the front door with your hand in his.

“What’d you forget?” He asked it too enthusiastically, earning a hard side eye from Wayne.

“The buttermilk pie.”

“We can go grab it.” Eddie already had the door open with you nodding along behind him.

“It’s not a two person job.” Wayne’s gaze never falters off his nephew or you, just a raise of his eyebrows while you two practically jitter out of your skin.

“What if my hands get cold? We can share the load, right Samwise?” Eddie has mischief all over his face when he glances at you over his shoulder. It’s in the dimples on his cheeks and the crinkles around his eyes. Those shine with giddiness that he’s been trying to tamp down all morning.

Wayne relents wordlessly, a toss of his hands upwards and another huff. “Nothing wise about either of you.” Muttered as he turns to help your mom with the unwrapping of casseroles.

Your aunts came in two days ago and he hasn’t had a moment alone with you since, all of it spent at your place in your mom’s living room listening to three middle aged women gossip. It was fun for the first day but when he realized you were essentially being held hostage and he couldn’t get even a quick feel up in the hallway without someone calling for you. A trailer not much bigger than his own and it was swarming with people and you kept getting lost in the throws.

“How long before they send out a search party?” Eddie asks while stomping up his front steps and unlocking the door, everything done in a rush like he’s running from your extended family.

“Well bud, I think Wayne already knows.” Your laugh follows him into the dark trailer before he yanks you in with him.

“Bud?!”

“Yeah, my buddy that I sleep with.”

“Is that all I am to you?” He pulls you against his chest in the midst of giggles and a tangle of feet trying to rid themselves of shoes. “Just a warm buddy you can take advantage of?” He asks like he isn’t the one manhandling you down the short hallway to his room. Your protests fall on deaf ears though as he nods along all aloof like and blindly slaps around behind his back for his doorknob.

“Seriously Eddie we gotta be quick, I don’t want Wayne marching over.”

“Hey.” He pulls away to point at you. “You don’t get to make fun of me when it’s over in under a minute, capiche?”

You laugh into his mouth while trying to kiss him and also trying to pull at his belt. His hands immediately find their way under your blouse, a lavender colored satin thing your mother forced you into that morning. He’d made a comment about you looking like one of those sad porcelain clowns and you’d thrown a serving spoon at him.

Now though you can’t get enough of his teasing mouth. His teeth that nip and pull away to draw you closer to his bed, his tongue that sneaks out to lick at the corner of your lips.

“Eddie c’mon.” You whine when he dips his head to kiss under your jaw, his hands still skirting the edges of your bra under your shirt. “Get me out of this stupid thing.”

He’s already plucking at the covered buttons before you finish your sentence. “Say no more.” Undone, just like your bra apparently, his little magic trick he’s perfected in the almost year you two have been together. He tugs you with him to sit on the edge of the bed and with you barely in his lap, the phone trills from the kitchen.

“There’s that ten minute warning.” Your hands slow down on the zipper of his ‘nice’ jeans, coming to terms with the fact you weren’t going to get anything you wanted this week.

“Well fuck their ten minutes.” His hands are rough on the wool of your skirt where he pushes it up your thighs, fingers sneaking under the silky lining to find the crease of your hips. “It’s not like we’re eating pie first.”

“You might be.” Your laugh is soft between you. Breath pushed out from the tickling movement of his fingers along sensitive skin. He gets a grip on you though and rolls you onto your back, your legs kicking around until he settles between your knees.

“Unfortunately no.” His fingers hook on your underwear to pull them down quickly. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to sneaking away later for a slice.” He vaguely pushes his jeans aside, finishing the job you left undone. The phone stops finally and Eddie grins down at you looking flushed and disheveled and wanting. He wants to get you out of your holiday finest and keep you in his sheets while the sky is still grey with rain. He doesn’t want to make this quick just because he’s missed you for a few days but the ache in his boxers does make a persuasive argument.

“What are you smiling at?” You ask him, trying to reach out to pull him closer. He gets the idea and drops down on his elbows to crowd into your space, nose running down along your cheek to plant a kiss on your earlobe.

“You. I miss you.”

“I know. The aunts will be gone by Saturday and you can have me all to yourself till Monday.” You run fingers through his tangled hair and he sighs, taking the moment for longer than he should. This was supposed to be a quickie after all.

“I’m gonna hold you to that-“

The phone rings again and he could swear it sounds more insistent than it did two minutes ago. “Fuck me.”

“I’m trying.” Your giggling does him in. He sits up with a rough yank of your hips to meet his and he works himself out of his boxers. Doesn’t give you more than a second to realize before he rocks his hips forward and makes you gasp through your smile.

The shriek of the phone echos through the empty trailer and it sets his teeth on edge, anger a whisper on the back of his thoughts “I swear to god I’m gonna graduate this year.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Yup.” He grabs your leg to sloppily kiss your knee and keep your hips open for him. “I’m gonna get the fuck out there so we can get the fuck out of here.” His other hand sneaks between your legs to find your own ache, thumb rubbing circles over that bundle of nerves. The leg in his hold jumps and he laughs through his nose at the way you squirm against his onslaught. “Have our own fucking Thanksgiving.” His hips pound a rhythm against yours. “And I’m unplugging the fucking phone.”

Your laughter turns to moaning that you don’t have to keep hidden and Eddie’s eyes roll in his head. These are the daydreams he gets lost in during biology, ideas of you two living on your own anywhere but here. A place where you don’t have to keep quiet due to thin walls and family ever present. Eighty five is gonna be his fucking year if it’s the last thing he does.

When one call ends and immediately picks up into another loud ring, Eddie drops his head and focuses on you. “Come on baby, they’re gonna send out the sheriff soon.”

“I don’t-fuck I don’t care!” You give him a show with your head thrown back and your hands pawing at your own chest, one of your nipples pinched between your orange painted fingers. His hips snap in an uneven rhythm while he tries to hold off until you break, always trying to make you break first. Eyes screwed shut, back arching off the bed suddenly, he feels you clench around him and he buries himself deep to ride out the feeling with you. His movements stutter and he mumbles his love at you, babbling about next year in your own shared place. In your own shared bed.

There’s no room for basking in the afterglow and when Eddie finally lifts his head you’ve already rehooked your bra and started buttoning your shirt back up quietly. “I’m sorry this was…well, this.” You look around you sadly and spot your underwear on his crowded floor.

“Don’t be, I got to steal you away for a bit.” He’s redoing his belt but leans down to kiss your forehead. “And maybe later we can sneak out back and have some quality neckin’ time.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and the phone rings again and he turns unceremoniously out of his room without another word.

He tears the phone of the cradle and immediately hears Wayne, exasperated on the other end, asking where in the blue hell you two are. “Hello!” Eddie twirls the wire around his finger, his irritation clear through the line. “No we didn’t get lost, I was looking for something in my room.”

A moments fucking peace, he thinks to himself.

“Yeah, I see it. No I’m literally staring at it right now. Yep, she’s picking it up and we’re walking out the door.” You’re strolling into the living room and picking up your shoes and his, waving them at him. “Yes Wayne, I know. I’m sorry. Uh huh. Well…oh.” You’re watching him as his face softens and he smiles. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“What’s up?” Your hair is stuck up around your head and after he hangs up he reaches out to smooth a hand over the flyaways.

“He said he was stalling for us.” A blush creeps into the tips of his ears at the thought of that. A sweet gesture but still something he wished he could have kept to himself.

“Well that’s sweet of him. Told you he knew what was up.” You hand him his shoes that he drops and shoves his toes into while you grab the homemade pie out of the fridge. “You ready?”

“I was serious, by the way.” He doesn’t look at you while he locks the door and makes his intentions clear.

“About what?”

“The getting us out of here.”

You wait at the bottom of the steps, looking up at him warmly with the glass pie dish tucked up against your chest. “I know.”

He has a hard time meeting your eyes sometimes when he tries to talk about the future. “I mean, if that’s anything you’d want anyways.” He keeps his gaze unfocused while you both start back off to your trailer and your full family.

“Getting out of the trailer park?”

“Yeah.”

“Getting out of Hawkins?”

“That too.”

“Getting away with you?”

“That’s the part I wasn’t sure about.”

You find his hand swinging between you to grab it tight, lacing your fingers together. “Eddie, I’d love nothing more.”

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader | p. 5

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

a/n -> This chapter goes along with the next. As promised, the second part will come out within the hour of this one being posted.

-> <-

September 1982

“I hate boys.”

You let yourself into the Munson household by using the spare key "hidden" underneath the 'Welcome' mat on their front porch. It's become a little habit of yours to barge into their home.

Wayne sits on the couch with the television on far too loud for anyone with a normal hearing range. Unfortunately for him, Eddie has left him nearly deaf with all of that noise coming from his room. It would have been a quiet evening by himself with Eddie out at band practice, but Wayne should know better by now that you'll show up like you live here.

When you plop down next to Wayne, he doesn't hesitate to offer the plate of food he's just dished up for himself. He wrestles with his age to get off the couch, then walks through the kitchen to find a new plate.

“Thanks,” you chew through a dry biscuit. Wayne says he likes the outside crispy, but you’re sure that he will be down to nothing but gums when these rocks break his teeth off soon.

Wayne rounds the kitchen island with a brand new plate of food for himself, and an extra napkin for you to hold under your chin. Although he knows very little about clothes, he can see the shine still on that new blouse of yours. He would hate to see you ruin it with some gravy and a bucket of fried chicken.

Wayne sits down again next to you, “Eddie isn’t here.”

You sniffle over the pile of mashed potatoes, “I know.”

Dressed up like you’ve got somewhere to go and you have no one to take you there, Wayne can make a guess of why you might be here.

“What happened?” Wayne nudges you.

You’ve got on the nicest pair of pants you own with a bright blue top and a pair of kitten heels. You’ve taken your mother’s jewelry, which Wayne is sure she’s not pleased about.

“Isn’t that your mom’s necklace?” Wayne asks dumbly.

You cross your arms. “Rodney ditched me.”

“Who?”

Kids these days and their drama. Wayne can hardly keep up with Eddie, and now he’s got you here crying on his couch. You’re hardly a bother anymore. It’s more bizarre when you’re not here eating his food, watching his television and napping on his couch.

“Rodney said we’d go out Friday at seven,” you tell Wayne. “It’s Friday. It’s eight. No Rodney.”

Wayne could not imagine disrespecting a young woman like that. You've got to be out of your mind if you think making a promise like that can just be tossed out of a window.

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” he pats your knee. “Want me to kick his ass?”

Wayne’s become a father figure to you in a way, since you don't have one. Your mom refuses to tell you anything about the man that got her knocked up. That's a direct quote from what she says. You're not being rude.

“No,” you let a soft laugh sneak past your sorrowed heart.

Wayne's television hums. You watch the wheel spin onto one hundred dollars, and the contestant cheers as she gets to guess another letter.

“Brook Shields,” you guess the answer.

Wayne cocks his head at you, “how did you get that so fast?”

You shrug, “I’ve seen Endless Love.”

“Endless- what?”

“Keep up old man,” you joke.

Wayne grunts, “not you too. I get enough of that shit from Eddie.”

You sit with Wayne that evening with dry eyes, except for the occasional tear falling from laughing a bit too hard at his bewildered expression when you fill in nearly all of the answers to the game show he loves so much.

“What are you going to do with that brain of yours?” Wayne asks as the program nears the end, and the screen begins to dim.

You shrug your shoulders, “I don’t know.”

“You’ll go to college though, won’t you?”

“I can hardly afford groceries,” you reply.

It is an honest answer. Your mom is out of a job, aside from her new night time prowling. She tries to sneak out while you’re tucked into your blankets in your bed. It doesn’t always pan out that way. You’ve heard the heels clicking in the kitchen, before she leaves into the night time.

She’s back before you wake up. And, she’ll take you off to school before she goes to bed for most of the morning. You can only assume this by the way she’s dressed in pajamas without any makeup when you come home.

Wayne watches from afar. Your mom has been stepping back in their friendship recently, and he wonders if everything is okay at home. When he does catch glimpses of her through the living room window, she's a bit gray and a bit dull. Her usual cherry cheeks are sunken. Her eyes are swollen. Her clothes are scandalous in her own definition.

A flood of headlights break through the blinds in the Munson trailer. If the lights aren’t enough to warn you that Eddie is about to plow through his front door, then the absolute deafening sound of bass and guitar blasting through the speakers in his van would give you enough of an inclining.

Kicking his boots off in different directions outside the home, Eddie stamps out his cigarette on the porch railing, and he flicks the nub somewhere into the night.

Dancing his way into the trailer, Eddie first catches you sitting next to Wayne in a bright blue get-up. Isn’t it a bit much to be that done up for some boy? Yes, he knows about Rudolph. That silly little boy from one of your classes. He’s been following you around like he’s got a leash tethered around that funny little sweater vest he wears to school. Really? A sweater vest? It’s a bit pompous if you ask him.

Randy has got to be the most snot-nosed booger-eater that Eddie has had the misery of meeting. He’s got these judgy little eyes that squint in Eddie’s direction any time you hang around him at lunch. Not to mention how bushy his eyebrows are. If you like caterpillars that much, Eddie can find you one around the trailer park that you’ll like much more than - what’s-his-name.

“How was your date?” Eddie hesitates to hold back to venom corroding his teeth. It’s silly to be jealous of some guy. Eventually you would be with someone, and Eddie would find his someone. It’s just strange to not have you at band practice. You haven’t missed a single one - well, now you have.

Your face falls at the mention of Rodney.

In the past few hours, you forgot about the ache in your chest that Rodney never showed at your front door. The absent sore on your heart reopens. Your throat closes a bit.

There was a pinch of hope that you held onto that he might show up with a reasonable excuse. Or, he’ll at least be bold enough to show up and to beg for a second chance. With the time approaching midnight, the odds are withering away into nothing.

“Good,” you fib.

Naively, you lie to Eddie.

“How was practice?” You ask secondly.

A spark lit his bottom on fire and he was bounding about the trailer like a wild animal. Excitement radiates off of his skin.

“You won’t believe what happened tonight!” He yells a bit too loudly for old Wayne, who wiggles his pinky into his ear. “We got a call back from the Hideout! They want to see us perform!”

“That’s great, Eddie!”

“Congratulations, kid.”

Wayne has to stand and clap Eddie on the back to congratulate his nephew. The pair of them look to each other adoringly, before either of them remember that you’re still there on the couch.

“I should go,” you know how late it is, and your mother - er - she would be shivering in worry by now. Probably. “I’m really proud of you, Eddie. Can I come to the show?”

“There’s no way I can perform without my best girl,” he wraps you in a strong hug, “Tuesday at seven! I want both of you there!”

“You got it,” you punch his chest a bit awkwardly.

When you do leave, Eddie takes the spot you once sat in on the couch. He switches programs because whatever game show Wayne is watching is not to Eddie’s taste. Eddie prefers something that will make his skin crawl.

“Ed,” Wayne clears his throat, “I think we should talk.”

“Talk?”

Wayne stands in front of the television blocking Eddie from flicking to yet another channel.

“Your little friend got stood up on her date,” he teeters back and forth, unsure if you want Eddie knowing this. But, you’re his best friend as far as Wayne is concerned.

Eddie frowns, “what?”

“She’s been with me all evening,” Wayne sighs. “The poor girl is rattled. I mean- you know you cannot do that to a woman, right?”

Wayne begins to turn everything into a lesson. As he lectures Eddie, the lines of reality begin to blur. You’ve been stood up by this douche? Nothing gets past Eddie like that. The ridges of his knuckles turn whiter than snow.

“Eddie,” Wayne scratches his forehead, “I need you to promise me that you’ll never treat a woman like that. You know better, right?”

Eddie hasn’t brought a girl by the house yet. It doesn’t occur to Wayne how horrible the people treat Eddie at school. He assumes it’s just a bit of play and a bit of teasing. Eddie can handle himself for the most part.

“Yeah,” Wayne snaps out of his head when Eddie finally speaks up, “I got it, Wayne.

-> <-

[Sep 1982 . . . again]

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst

[possibly-in-wonderland]

some modern girl falls into middle earth concepts (the hobbit & lotr)

reader has a gold tooth or two, obvs the company is interested but what happens when thorin gets that gold sickness lmfao

reader has hella tattoos/piercings/body mods (tatted eyeballs, pointed ears, split tongue, fangs, etc) and explains the process to the company (maybe dwalin gets the hots). this is, of course, after the company finds out reader is in fact human and not some odd race they've never heard of

black or native american reader (bc u know how dwarves & elves are with hair)

reader who speaks norwegian and has studied norwegian history (bc why not) and likes to draw comparisons between scandinavian culture and dwarven culture (idk why lmao)

italian reader (bc food)

reader with dai yueqin-length hair (aka if its not up its a tripping hazard to everyone)

reader who's a part of the sca

deaf!reader (maybe bifur's sign language is similar to asl and they end up becoming friends)

blind!reader (reader likes touching faces, im just imagining reader touching one of the dwarves' faces and being like "oh wow ur very handsome", maybe reader likes bigger noses, bigger ears, longer hair, and beards bc they feel interesting as opposed to a clean-shaven face and smaller features)

reader with a beard fetish (*everyone looks at nori and his glorious beard*)

stoner reader who, after falling into middle earth, found themselves constantly stoned stupid due to eating a brownie before the fall (and by some weird magical thing, their body is now "glitched").

alternatively, stoner reader who had seeds on them before they fell.

metalhead reader (specifically eddie munson-style...so thrasher obsessed with dnd).

crackfic idea: introducing the dwarves to diggy hole (lmao)

reader, who's obsessed with stories, tells the company a different story from their home world each night (like a story about a young viking managing to train the most ferocious dragon (how to train your dragon)). later, reader ends up retelling snow white and the seven dwarves.

some sort of bl2 x hobbit crossover (reader's a siren but not from the borderlands universe, and in this case their magic is more like pony magic from mlp friendship is magic or bonnies magic from vampire diaries). they dont get any markings or anything until they "leech" the gold sickness from thorin (which, in turn, affects the reader by making their powers more awesome). obvs there's some limitations (they lose the ability to fully control their limbs and are pretty much wheelchair-bound for a few months). reader is pretty much a demigod (probably just as powerful if not maybe a little less powerful than gandalf).

reader fell into middle earth a couple thousand years ago but due to some weird aging thing and middle earth time working differently than modern earth time they age differently. they've become some minor witch or wizard.

reader "scent marks/chins" to show love (like a rabbit)

reader whos part of modern royalty from our world (and enjoys middle earth more than anything bc they don't have to be "propper" all the time, maybe their more of a princess diana royal)

speaking of princess diana: reader gushes over princess diana

post botfa: fem!reader flirts with dis (lol)

reader pretends to by psychic (like in psych) but in reality they've read every book part of the lotr/hobbit universe and know everything (maybe they understand some of their languages as well, not enough to be fluent but enough to pick out certain words)

reader grew up DEEP in the mountains of west virginia (and likes to sing country roads at random points, though they change some of the lyrics bc they don't have the crayons nor willpower to explain a radio)

reader knows "big bad john" and "the cajun queen" by jimmy dean by heart

reader quietly singing jolene after the events of mirkwood

reader lives life by the kenny rogers song "the gambler"

most of the songs the reader knows are either by dolly parton or kenny rogers (or any other artist similar like reba)

reader casually talks about the horrors of our world like its the most normal thing (ww2, systematic racism, the truth of thanksgiving, climate change, 2020, the patriarchy and how they treat women, etc)...everyone looks horrified

reader writes hozier-style songs

reader is the biggest fucking flirt (but by that, i mean they'll flirt with trees...not just ents, no, trees...and rocks)

reader, a seemingly innocent-looking woman, was a deathmetal vocalist in our world

reader has a thing for watching blacksmiths and metalsmiths (i used to like watching forged in fire until i realized they were a bunch of sexists)

reader has the deepest southern accent-

reader is a little insecure only to find out that everything society deems gross and unsightly in our world is hella attractive to dwarves (body hair, extra weight, etc)

reader has abandonment issues and is terrified the company or fellowship are gonna abandon them at any point

reader introduces the company/fellowship to truth or dare, reader get's dared to tell the group their biggest secret, they pull out their childhood stuffed animal from their bag and introduce the group to said stuffed animal. reader thinks the group will laugh at them. the fellowship finds it endearing. the company also finds it endearing (esp dori, bifur, and bofur).

reader goes on a tangent about frontal lobes for a solid 15 minutes straight with no stopping bc of that one hyperfixation they had a few years back.

reader with chronic pain. they never talk about it but something goes wrong, reader and (we'll say dwalin) switch bodies. the pain is so bad dwalin is keeling over and after they get switched back everyone has a little more respect for reader than before. ("what do you mean tHIS IS NORMAL EVERYDAY PAIN? YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THIS FLARES UP AND GETS WORSE??? THIS ISNT EVEN THE WORST OF IT???" reader shrugs "eh u get used to it after living with it for ur entire life")

reader doesn't like wearing shoes, but has feet as strong as a hobbits so its fine

everyone's explaining what folktale they tell children in different cultures when asked where babies come from. the dwarves talk about being born of rocks, hobbits talk about being born in gardens, the human reader tells the story of the stork

idk i kinda wanna mix some of these together

[cherryc1nnam0n]

Why won't you fuck me?! | Stepbro!Eddie x FEM!Reader

Summary: Your Stepbro won't fuck you, what will you do fix that?

Cw: Smut, unprotected sex, Voyeourism, public masturbating, rough sex, pussy eating, creampie, lots of cum, big dick, horny reader

Eddie Munson has been your brother for... 5 months now and you still didn't understand how or why your mother fell in love with his uncle...

Eddie is... Weird, to put it in kind words but really he's an outcast... But he's hot you can't deny that...

But one day when you caught him jerking off in the bathroom, you never pulled him out of your head again

He was jerking off furiously, chest flushed and face scrunched in pleasure, and his dick, gosh it's so big, maybe 11 inches and the girth was at least 4, he was huge and he was need, of course no one wanted to fuck him, he's a weirdo but oh wow his dick was good

So from that day, you decided to test the waters

Wearing skimpy outfits, tiny skirts and shorts without any underwear, bending over in front of him, rubbing against him, you tried everything and nothing ever worked

He was too kind...

You had to break that

So you decided to take it the extra mile, masturbating loudly

Your rooms were right next to each other, so it was the perfect timing

You had been going at it for a while, edging yourself until you were almost crying and he still didn't come into your room, you moaned, groaned, screamed but nothing worked

Was he deaf?

Your door was wide open, your legs too and he still hadn't come in to see what was going on

You had enough

Storming into his room, you found him laying down writing something in his DND diary

"Really?! I'm right next to you and you don't come in?!"

"Oh hi sweetheart" he said unbothered "What's up?"

You scoffed "Really?! I'm literally masturbating right next to you, aren't you curious?!"

"Mmmm, well considering you're my sister, no I'm not"

You sat down on his lap, tank top disheveled and pussy aching for love and touch

"Don't you wanna fuck me Eddie? I've been giving you hints for weeks now!"

He blinked

"Oh... That was for me...?"

He really is stupid

You rolled your eyes, grinding down on him

"Of course! Who else?!"

He shrugged "I dunno, I just didn't wanna you know, seems like a pervert"

"But I want you to be a pervert, I like you Eddie, I want you to fuck me" you said in a moan

"Fuck baby I... Fuck we can't do this"

"Eddieeeee, please, just fuck me, no one needs to know" you pouted

He had it difficult, you looked so cute with your tits out and pussy leaking on top of him, and his dick screaming to be let out of it's cage, fuck it

"Alright fuck it"

He manhandled you into doggy style, diving face first into your pussy, eating you out so messily it made you see stars while he took off his jeans and boxers

"Fuck you taste so good sis" he smacked your ass, hard

"Yes just like that Ed's fuck!"

The slurping noises where so obscene, he ate pussy like an animal

And fucked like on

The bed was scraping against the floor and hitting the wall so hard if was gonna break, he was fucking you with all his strength and might

"Aaaaah! Eddie!" You screamed, his dick so big it was making a bulge on your stomach

"Fuck just like that, pussy so tight around my dick"

"Eddie don't stop!"

You felt the knot forming in your stomach, you were gonna cum, hard

"I'm cumming Eddie!"

You squirted all over his dick, balls and thighs, making him groan and hold you down while he pounded into you like an animal in heat, his balls drew up and he emptied inside your with a guttural moan and groan combined

"Fuck!"

You felt all of it, every single drop of his hot cum, painting your unprotected womb and walls, your eyes rolled back as he filled you up

Five minutes passed and he finally stopped cumming, it all rushed out of you in gushes

"Fuck baby, hope you're on the pill" he said out of breath

"What if I fell you I'm not?" You said wiggling your ass at him

"Fuck..." He said falling down on his bed

Whoopsie