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melodymunson · 6 hours

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Home Pairing: Billy Knight x You Summary: Billy has a habit of randomly showing up at your doorstep, then disappearing. You hope that one day, you'll get to keep him. Prompt: "Can… Can I have a hug? Please?" + "Oh, sweetheart. Come here." (from this list) Words: 1k

It had been months since you'd last seen Billy Knight.

You thought of him often. Wondered where he was. What he was doing. If he was alright. If he was warm, if he was sleeping through the night, if he was getting enough to eat.

And then, one day, you came home to find him sitting on your doorstep. He'd fallen asleep with his head against your door, but jerked awake when he heard you coming. He stood quickly, nervously rubbing his nose and trying to dust off his muddy pants.

He had a black eye and a split lip.

"Hi, Billy," you greet softly.

"Hey," he says to the ground.

"How long have you been here?"

He shrugs and sniffs, rubing his red nose again.

"Wanna go inside? It's chilly out here today."

"Kay," he says, eyes to the ground.

You take out your keys and step closer to the door, and he jumps away from you. It makes your heart ache.

It always takes him a little while to warm up to you again. To remember that you're kind and patient and won't hurt him. It's like a voice inside of him tells him to come to you, because it's safe. But something else is telling him that you don't want him, that you could turn on him at any second, and that he needs to remain alert.

You hope that one day, he'll find a way to silence his doubts and decide to stay with you forever. That way, he'll never have to go through this adjustment period again. Because you'll never have to be apart.

You open the door, step inside, and flip on the lights. You stand aside and slowly take off your shoes while you wait for Billy to join you. He walks in cautiously, eyes darting around like someone's going to reach out and smack him for daring to enter. He kicks his shoes off too, wobbling a little and losing his balance. You reach out to steady him, and he flinches. You withdraw your hand without making contact.

"Would you like to take a shower while I make us something to eat?" you ask with a smile.

His eyes widen in fear. "Do I smell?"

"No," you lie. "I just thought a little hot water might make you feel better. Looks like he tuned you up pretty good."

His eyes fill with tears.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come." His voice wavers, and he reaches for the doorknob.

"Billy?" You step between him and the way out. He recoils. You pretend not to notice. "I have something for you."

He looks at the floor and rubs his nose.

You slowly hold your hand out, palm-up. He stares at it for a few seconds, then shakily reaches for it. Your hands clasp gently, and he finally looks up at you. You give him your warmest smile, grateful that your distraction worked.

"C'mon," you whisper, leading him slowly to your bedroom. You let his hand go when you reach the dresser. You kneel, grasp the knobs on the bottom drawer, and pull.

You have A Billy Drawer.

After he left you last time, you cleaned out a drawer and bought him a few things. T-shirts, sweats, socks, underwear, a hoodie. You'd even bought him his own soap and deodorant, so he wouldn't have to smell like you next time he slept over.

Billy stares at the neatly folded drawer, then looks to you with confusion on his face.

"I knew you'd come back to me," you smile.

His face crumples. He turns away from you and sobs into his hands. You stand, wanting so badly to wrap your arms around him, but you don't dare. Not yet. Not until he adjusts to being home again.

Home.

This could be his home forever, if he wanted. You wish you knew how to tell him that. Even if you found the words… would he believe you?

Billy's sobs wind down, and he dries his face on the sleeves of his faded flannel shirt. He turns slowly, head down, glancing up at you bashfully.

"M'sorry," he says.

"Billy, it's okay," you smile. "I'm glad you're here."

"You didn't have to do that." He gestures to the drawer full of things you bought just for him.

"I know you don't always have time to grab stuff when you leave your dad's," you explain gently. "I wanted you to feel at home here."

"Home?"

Home.

You nod and try not to tear up. You fail.

"If… if there's anything else you need, just let me know," you tell him, voice on the verge of cracking. "I can run out and--"

"Can…" Billy hesitates, his expression almost pained. Did you go too far? Did you scare him off? Is he going to run away and never come back? "Can I have a hug? Please?"

"Oh, sweetheart," you sigh in relief. "Come here."

You open your arms, and Billy walks into them. You hold him, gently at first, and then a little tighter. He hugs you back, just the same.

You don't let go until his stomach rumbles. You pull back with a smile. He looks embarrassed.

"How about I go make us some dinner?" you ask.

"Can I still…?"

"You want to take a shower?"

He nods.

"Go ahead, Bill." You lean in slowly to kiss him on the cheek, then nod your head toward his drawer. "Everything in there is for you. If you'd rather use what's already in the shower, that's fine too. Take your time. Food will be ready whenever you are."

Billy smiles gratefully, and you walk toward the kitchen. You glance back to see him kneeling on the floor, rifling through the contents of The Billy Drawer with a look of wonder on his face. You hope one day, there will be more than just a drawer for him here.

When Billy finally emerges from the bathroom, wearing clean clothes and smelling like a dream, he looks like a different person. There's color in his cheeks. His hair is drying with a bit of curl. His eye and lip look better. And best of all, there's a smile on his face.

You don't know how long he's going to stay. But you know you're going to spend every second of your time together making him feel like he belongs here, with you. Like this could be the warm, safe, happy home he deserves.

Maybe this time, he'll stay.

#billy knight #cb strike #billy knight x reader

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melodymunson · 6 hours

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Dacre Montgomery as Billy Hargrove STRANGER THINGS 3.04 The Sauna Test

#stranger things #billy hargrove

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melodymunson · 6 hours

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Somebody's Watching Me

!StalkerEddie !FemReader

Summary:It's your second year in college and the stranger at your school is your secret stalker.

Warnings:Stalking,home invasion,smoking

𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐

While you were studying,your phone ringed and an unknown number was calling you. You would never answer these calls before,but you had a lot of acquaintances at school and since you were in charge of most of the activities,other students was calling you often. You answered the phone "Hello." there was nothing from the other end. Thinking there might be a line outage,you repeated "Hello?" there was no sound again. You just knew that the other person was a man. Because he was breathing with a deep voice,he was doing it intensely.You stayed silent for a few seconds and hanged up the phone and looked at the time. It was almost your bedtime and you got up from your desk and walked towards your window. There was a bus stop right in front of your house and a man was sitting at bench. You didn't care because it wouldn't be right to watch someone on the street through your window. You closed your curtains and walked towards your bed.

You almost had a nervous breakdown while getting ready for school at next morning. You couldn't find the black blouse you always wore. It was a rather small and thin piece and would often get lost among your other clothes. You would have been late for school if you kept looking for that blouse,so you grabbed another shirt and quickly walked to the bathroom.

"I was almost going to cry!" Jessica laughed at you "Don't exaggerate,it's just a blouse." You looked at her and sat down at one of the tables in the cafeteria "Yeah,but it's annoying losing my stuff especially when I'm about to be late Jess" you said. Every year there was a student passport photo shoot at your school,and today was one of those days. After the meal,you and Jessica went to the area where you would take photos and started waiting in line. Students in the photography club were taking your photos,and they also took care of the album for each graduating year. When it was your turn, you sat on the small stool and fixed your hair. There was a long-haired boy you'd never seen before,you couldn't even see his face properly because he put the camera viewfinder to his eye as you sat down.

He took your picture a few times and you blinked involuntarily when the flash went off. He moved the camera away from his eye and looked at the photo "I'm so sorry my eyes are very sensitive." you said. "It's okay" he spoke as he adjusted the lens without looking at you. You could barely hear his voice,you looked at his hands as he readjusted his camera. He had a tattoo and a chain bracelet. Afterwards he took the picture again. You stood up from the chair and when you looked at the boy again,you couldn't see his face again, his long hair was covering his face when he bowed his head. After Jessica got on the bus,you put on your headphones and started walking home. Two of you had homes in different places and you lived quite close to the school. You and Jessica had lost track of time in the library and it was already dark.

Spring was coming and the weather was very nice. When you saw the cats next to the garbage,you walked towards it and took out the cat food that was always in your bag. The cats were starting to come to you and you smiled "Mommy is here" You bent down and started feeding the cats. Your headphones were still on and after a few seconds,you quickly looked back because of the strange and scary feeling you felt behind you. There was no one around,whenever you went for a walk alone you had the feeling that someone was following or watching you. Even though a few minutes had passed,you couldn't shake that uncomfortable feeling and you decided to leave.

When you came home,you were face chatting with Jessica and cooking at the same time. You opened your window and curtains to prevent the smell of oil. A few minutes later,you paused with the flash light coming from outside. "What the fuck was that?" Jessica asked "What?" while you continued to look outside "There was a light coming from outside, could someone have taken my photo?" you said with fear. Jessica laughed “Why would anyone take your photo?” you closed your curtains "I don't know". "It must be a UFO" Jessica said. Jessica liked to joke about things like this,but you knew this situation was nothing like that. Whenever you were under such a stress like that,something came out from under. That night,you couldn't concentrate on anything because of that stress and fell asleep while watching a movie.

When you woke up,you realized you already missed class time. You got angry at yourself and got up from your bed while swearing. You were already late for school so you took a shower,got dressed and went out to enjoy your day. There was a beautiful park near your house and you exercised there every weekend. Since you slept late last night,you were only going for a run today. While you were jogging through the trees with your headphones on,you couldn't take away that feeling inside you. Your neighborhood was not that safe place and had to be cautious of everything. At the same time,you were thinking about the fact that maybe these were your ridiculous theories. Music couldn't relax you so you called your sister. You were running at a fast pace while continuing to talk with her. After a few minutes,you got tired and sat down on one of the benches and continued talking to your sister. At that time you were just talking to your sister,unaware that dozens of photos of you were being taken.

1 Week Later

This year's albums are almost ready to be released. Members of each club had their photos taken, but no one showed up for the music club you were in. Sam put down the guitar he was holding and looked at you "You should ask the photographers,they missed us" You looked at Sam "But I don't know any of them". "There's a darkroom downstairs next to the lab." Emma said. You took a deep breath, "Okay, I'll ask one of them."

After your rehearsal was over,you went to the place Emma described and found the room used by the photographer students. You walked in without letting much light in and looked around. Everywhere was red,it was a very interesting place but there was no one there. While the students were away,you started to look around more closely. You went to the corner of the room and were horrified when you looked at the photos hanging on small pegs. They were all your photos,from a few months ago or even 5 months ago. While cooking in the kitchen, feeding the cats,relaxing in the park and jogging,changing your clothes.Your head was starting to spin and your body was getting hot, you held on to the table next to you because you felt like you were going to faint,your stomach was starting to feel nauseous. Anxiety was taking over your entire body. A few seconds later,the door opened. White asnd red light mixed together. The last thing you remember was a boy approaching you,you had a panic attack and fainted.

𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐

Pt.2 is soon♡♡

#eddie munson x reader #stalker!eddie munson x reader #dark!eddie munson x reader

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melodymunson · 6 hours

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I’m currently sick and I can’t help but think of Eddie Munson taking care of you during a time like this.

It’s the first day of not feeling good, having just small symptoms that you tried to surpass with it just being the season changing.

But Eddie notices how little energy you had throughout the day, your eyes appearing heavier than usual, your subtle massage against your temple hoping it would help the headache that was pounding against your skull and your little sniffles.

At first he wasn’t going to say anything, knowing you would come to him eventually if you truly didn’t feel good, but when you went all day without saying a word, he finally confronted you as you the two of you got ready for bed.

You were currently brushing your wet hair after the quick shower you had. Your body felt a little achey and your nose was now flooded with snot as you sniffled every few seconds.

“Angel, I know you don’t feel good. Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve stayed home and relaxed. I could’ve ran to the store, get you any medicine you needed, and gave you all the cuddles.” Eddie says from behind you as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching your every movement.

You sighed, as you set your brush down, turning to face him, “I just- I know you had a fun day planned for us, and I just…didn’t want to ruin your excitement.” you spoke quietly, your gaze focused on the ground, not wanting to look at him, afraid to see a disappointed look on his face.

Eddie wasn’t disappointed at all though, no. He was just worried about his girl. He didn’t say another word before he got up from the bed, taking your hands to help you stand.

“Eddie, what are yo-“ you started to say, but you cut off with a small “shush” as he guided you towards his bed.

He pulled the covers back, as he helped to tuck you in. “You comfortable angel?” he asked softly, once you were all tucked in, his hand coming up to tuck a small strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah. I’m comfortable.” You mumbled out, as you looked up into his chocolate brown eyes that were already staring down at you.

“Okay. I’m gonna run to the store and get you some medicine, okay?” He says as your heart fluttered softly at how sweet he was being, knowing you were the luckiest girl to have Eddie Munson taking care of you right now.

“But it almost 10 o’clock Eds. Just get some in the morning, I will be okay.” You argued back, just wanting some much needed cuddles from him.

Eddie stood there for a second as you could tell he was having a small little battle with his thoughts, before he finally smiled down at you softly and gave you a small little nod. “Okay, anything to make you feel better angel.” he spoke, before he crawled into bed next to you.

You shuffled underneath the sheets, trying to get comfortable before you sighed of content. His arms were wrapped around you as he held you close to him, your heading resting against his chest, the beating of his heart beat making you relax into him even more.

“Go to sleep my angel, and tomorrow I promise we don’t have to do anything.” Eddie whispered into your hairline where he placed a small kiss.

You just nodded as you closed your eyes letting the much needed rest you deserved take over your body.

And sure enough the next morning, you woke up to Eddie missing, but when you got up to find where he was, you found a small bag full of different medicines, vitamins, some crackers and a can of your favorite chicken noodle soup.

“Good morning Angel.” You heard come from behind you, as a pair of arms wrap around your waist, kissing your cheek.

“Thank you Eddie, for getting all of this.” You said as you turned around in his arms, looking up at him.

“You’re welcome. Now, youuu need to go lay down again and I’ll make you some soup, yeah?” he says as her tickled your side softly, a small giggle escaping past your lips that had Eddie smiling instantly.

“Okay.” is all you said before he was leading you back to bed, where he took care of you the rest of the day, watching any movie you wanted and making sure you whatever you needed, he would do for you in a heartbeat.

- - -

this is sloppy, but literally just now wrote it, no planning, just writing my thoughts and wishing I had this Eddie to take care of me rn.😭🤚

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff

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melodymunson · 6 hours

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But then its Monday.

Eddie Munson x GN Reader

Your eyes feel hot, body a dead weight, the magic of the couch is winning a fight you know won't translate to the bed, pulling you under.

You don't want it not yet, but the TVs light is getting too bright now the violet toned skies have gave way, no longer colouring the room in dying light and growing shadows.

His weight shifts besides you his hair tickling your cheek from where it's pressed into his arm, scented with the coconut shampoo he'd stolen from you for a shower, locks still a little damp in the places curled around the nape of his neck.

His hand's walking a soothing cararss into the soft flesh above your elbow and you lean yourself into him, closing your eyes as a chuckle rumbles through his chest at a line from the show your watching that never quite makes it to your ears.

'Hey?'

His voice curls around you subconscious but it's movement that makes your eyes flutter open, makes you groan as the pocket of heat youde created disperses and causes you to shudder as gooseflesh raises on your skin.

Eyes squinting up to him, a soft face with his own tired brown eyes look down.

'Let's get to bed."

"No just one more episode." You rasp moving from where your body had molded to his side.

"You slept through the last one. "

"I wasn't sleeping."

He raises his eyesbrows and goes to wipe the corner of your mouth and you swat his hand away.

"I was resting my eyes."

He laughs this time pointing to the wet patch on his shoulder.

"Come on its late." he stretches out, back arching and the blanket slips completely off you, an involuntary whine leaving you in protest as you curl up against the throw pillows.

"You need sleep." he says gently groaning as he stands hands raking though his hair and an easy smile on his face.

"But if I sleep it willl be Monday."

He tips his head silently, eyes locked on yours as his hand reaches out to you and reluctantly you let him pull you up.

He pulls you in, face nuzzling down until you look at him eyebrows knitted, he makes an overegzagertad display of copying your expression until a smile finally tugs at your mouth .

You let him drag you to the bathroom, his arm wrapped around you as you brush your teeth silently, tired bones leaning against each other as you smile sleepy toothpaste smiles at each other in the mirror.

The beds cold when he drags you under, shapes of the room diffused in the midnight umbra.

Legs tangle searching for warmth, socks are shed beneath a sanctuary of polycotton and body heat.

Until you still, softening with foreheads pressed together.

"Sleep." he hushes "I got you."

#eddie munson x reader

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melodymunson · 7 hours

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symptoms of the culture

Summary: Last call at the bar and you’re still here? Jesus Christ girl, get yourself together!

Pairing: e.m. x f!reader

W.C.: 1.9k

A/N: a continuation of our meet cute with eddie ☺️

Meeting Eddie at the bar was like something from a romantic comedy, and unlike everything you’d experienced before.

He did end up letting you buy that drink after all, which turned in to him buying you a drink because “it’s the polite thing to do.”

Your friend checked in maybe once or twice before deciding you could handle yourself, if it came to that (she didn’t seem to think that would be the case though). The crowd had dwindled down to mostly the regulars and friends of the bartenders, and you didn’t realize how late it had gotten until someone bellowed, “Last call!”

Eddie’s deft fingers traced the rings of condensation on the wooden table, dragging droplets of water into various shapes. Enthralled, you quickly realized that you could watch him do something like that all day, if you weren't careful.

“Shit,” You say, downing the last of your beer, “I didn’t mean to hold you up for so long.”

His lips kick up to one side, dimples prominent despite the low light. There’s a glint in his eye as he looks you up and down, a slow assessment that has you shifting in your seat.

“Riddle me this, sugar,” He says drumming his fingers on the table, “You really think there’s any place I’d rather be?”

And with that, he leaves to pay the tab, leaving his question hanging in the air.

Not that you could have formulated a semblance of a response anyway. Grabbing your jacket from the back of the chair, you shove your free hand into your purse to scrounge up your card to cover the tab as you sidle up beside him at the bar top.

Eddie’s got two bills in front of him, one large hand over each so you can’t figure out which is yours. Going to pluck either one from his grasp is useless, and after the second attempt, he simply holds it above your head and out of your reach.

“Try me, short stuff,” He taunts with a huff of a laugh. “Besides, your money’s no good here.”

Thinking twice before you could potentially demean yourself by actually jumping up to steal the bill from him, you turn to the bartender with a smile instead to ask:

“Can you print another bill please?”

And once you’ve supplied your last name, it should be a done deal. You expect him to reply with a nod and a ‘you got it’, accompanied by the familiar sound of a receipt being printed.

Instead, it goes a little something like this:

The bartender turns to glance at Eddie, and he gives the bartender some sort of look— which, what would the bartender need approval from a patron? Then, he shoves both receipts into the jar by the register and leans against the bar top and props an elbow on it as he faces you, like he’s waiting for something.

“Can’t do it.” The bartender sighs, “The bossman says you’re money’s no good here, them’s the rules.”

You try, and fail, to keep your jaw from dropping.

“Y-you own this bar? You’re that Eddie?”

“In the flesh and at your service.”

A beat of silence passes between you as the bartender clears his throat and begins closing preparations.

“Well, technically,” Eddie allows, with a twist of his lips, “I co-own it with a buddy of mine. This and couple of other places around town.”

And, well. For someone who dresses like they should be in a biker gang or fronting a prog-metal band, Eddie sure didn’t strike you as a real estate mogul.

“That’s cool,” You say with a nod, hand shoved into your purse once more. Rifling around a bit, you come back with a glorious fist of cash and shove it into the kitty near the register that simply reads, Alms for the pour.

“Soooo,” He drawls, the awkward end of the night coming upon you rapidly. “You good to drive or…?”

“Oh, no worries,” You say flippantly, quickly debating whether your should call an Uber at the hour of just suck it up and walk home. You could cut through campus and maybe shave five minutes off of the journey, anyway.

“I can get you an Uber—”

“No, it’s fine, really.” You adjust the shoulder strap of your bag and grab your keys, “I live just off the campus, it’s walkable from here.”

Eddie’s fingers loop around your wrist before you can say your goodbyes and high-tail it out of there. The silver of his rings glints in the light and the cool metal contrasts with the warmth of his hand as it engulfs yours.

“Nuh uh, not happening.” His tone leaves no room for discussion. “I’m not gonna let you walk—”

“It’s not even a mile!” You interject, “I cut through campus and skirt the park and I’m golden.”

“The park? At three in the morning?” He shakes his head, fingers forming a bracelet around your wrist, “Not even sorry to say, that is unequivocally not happening.”

Eddie tugs you with him as he passes behind the bar and down a small corridor to the back office.

“You good closing on your own Matty?”

The bartender, Matty, you assume, nods with an easy smile.

“Sure, Ed.”

Eddie releases your hand to grab a backpack and a helmet. He tosses the bag to you saying, “Throw your purse in there, you don’t mind wearing that on the bike, right?”

“I really am fine walking home, I haven’t fallen or stumbled in years,” You say as he turns back around, “That’s how good I am.”

“It’s not your walking capabilities I’m worried about here, sugar.” He holds the black helmet in his hands, fingers drumming on the closed visor. “It’s the creeps.”

“This from you, the man that very nearly creeped me out earlier tonight?”

Matty fails to stifle his laugh from the desk.

Eddie rolls his eyes in exasperation, “Yeah, laugh it up newbie.” Taking you by the shoulder, he steers you toward the service entrance and you find yourself not even trying to come up with excuses anymore.

Well, except for:

“Oh, you meant bike as in motorcycle.”

He snorts from behind you, finishing the job of zipping the backpack, now containing your purse, and looping the straps around your shoulders.

“Well it’s certainly not a pennyfarthing, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“I’ve never been on one before.”

“No time like the present.”

Clapping you on the shoulder, he turns you around to face him and pries a hair tie from his wrist. You take it from his outstretched hand, your fingertips brushing for a fleeting moment. Without much fuss, you throw your hair into a loose bun at the nape of your neck.

“May I?” Eddie asks, presenting you with the helmet.

After you nod, he deftly flips the helmet around and takes a step closer to place it on your head. It’s not a perfect fit, but it’ll have to do. He has you shake your head left and right, then up and down before he’s satisfied you won’t crack your skull on the pavement.

In a few strides he’s near the bike, and mounting it in one fluid motion. His legs are long and pretty fucking perfect for, oh you don’t know, maybe straddling later yourself.

But now you’re just getting ahead of things.

You follow his lead and step toward the bike; taking his offered hand as you find your seat behind him.

“So,” Eddie says leaning to start up the bike, once he’s satisfied that your feet are on the foot rest. “All you really gotta do is hold on.”

Your hands go to his shoulders and you can feel them rise with his soft chuckle.

“That’s cute,” He says, taking both your hands in his and moving them to his waist, which causes you to bridge the few inches of space between your bodies to accomodate the movement.

I mean, there are worse things than having your tits smooshed up against some guy’s back on a motorcycle, right?

“You good?”

And you can barely hear him over the rev of the engine, so you nod and raise your voice to rattle out your address. He half-turns toward you, eyes finding yours through the visor of the helmet and giving you a wink.

He grips the handles, pulls the clutch, and kicks off.

“Alright, sugar, let’s get you home.”

Holding on for dear life, you quickly learn that as he leans, you lean. There’s a lot of movement on a bike that you hadn’t anticipated, so much so that Eddie’s shirt, at some point, rides up his abdomen. Too busy gawking at the sights and sounds of your first motorcycle ride, you don’t notice the subtle warming of your fingertips against his bare skin until it’s too late.

You were confident that the sound of the engine would drown out the unfortunate squeak that escaped your mouth, but at the feeling of Eddie’s stomach muscles contracting in what could only be laughter, and the shaking of his shoulders, now has you second guessing yourself.

Oh, well.

Rolling to a smooth stop in front of your apartment, he kills the engine and helps you off the bike.

Back on solid ground, you slough off the backpack and unzip it to grab your purse and keys. You pass it back to him and remove the helmet, mourning briefly the soft scent of tobacco and clary sage— his cologne, maybe?

Hooking a finger through the hair tie at the back of your neck, you pull it out, and shake your hair from its confines before offering it back to him.

Eddie just smiles with a shake of his head, “Nah, keep it— I gotta million of ‘em.”

He stays seated on the bike, eyes whiskey-warm and crinkling at the edges. With a shrug, you push the elastic up and around your hand to settle on your wrist.

It’s relatively quiet for a winter’s night around the campus, all the undergrads gone home for the holidays and not expected back until mid-January. A brisk wind blows and a shiver runs through you, one hand rubbing furiously along your arm, while the other grips the helmet resting against your hip.

All the while, Eddie simply sits there to drink you in. Eyes roving across the full of your cheeks, the elegant slope of your neck and the necklaces strung there. Your hair wild and waving in the breeze. And even if it’s cold outside, he can’t bring himself to notice— not with you looking like that standing there before him.

“Hey, Eddie,” You say, stepping toward him. Taking the helmet in both hands, you put it on for him and have half a mind to make him go through the head shaking nonsense he was adamant over back at the bar. But it fits him perfectly, just your luck.

Before stepping back and retreating into your apartment, he takes your hand in his and gives it a slight squeeze. You can feel the heat skittering under your skin, terribly welcome in the cold morning air.

Squeezing his fingers back in return, you part with a soft, “Happy New Year.”

He watches as you open the front door of your ground floor apartment, giving him a shy wave as a dog barks from somewhere behind you. He can see your lips moving as you turn back to say something to the dog, smiling as you bend to greet them.

Kicking off as the door closes and the lights flick on in your home, Eddie cruises down the deserted street with a smile on his face.

And maybe, this could turn out to be his year after all.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you

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melodymunson · 7 hours

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EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Eddie Munson x Reader

You’ve asked Eddie to try something new tonight: you want him to get mean. As it turns out, Eddie takes to his new role surprisingly well. Includes degradation kink, use of words ‘bitch,’ and ‘puppy,’ directed toward Reader.

Eddie slammed the front door shut, making you jump. “(Y/N)?” Eddie called, his voice tinted with a white hot rage. “Where the hell are you?”

It was all a game, but the tone of his voice still sent a chill down your spine. And that was the point. You’d told Eddie how you wanted him to rough you up a little tonight (your exact words had been “get mean, Eddie…”) and what better way to start than by pretending to come home royally pissed off?

You left the kitchen and walked to the living room where Eddie had entered. When you saw him, the change in his features stole your breath for a few seconds. Eddie’s entire countenance was darker, his eyes glaring at you with an intensity that both excited and frightened you. Who was this? He looked like your Eddie, but…sinister. Completely unlike his true character. His commitment to the role you’d asked him to play was impressive, in the sexiest way possible…

He turned his key in the lock, staring you down while he did so. “Yeah,” Eddie snapped at you. “That’s right. You’re not going anywhere…”

It was hard not to giggle, because seeing this kind of behavior from Eddie was so…odd. It was similar to the experience of watching a horror movie; you’re scared, but it’s a fun kind of scared, because you know that none of it’s real; throughout the entire experience, your safety is guaranteed.

Your poorly-suppressed grin wasn’t missed by Eddie. He took a deliberate step closer, his eyes narrowing coldly. “Somethin’ funny?” he practically growled.

You pulled your lips in, trying to hide your excitement. “Mmm-mmm,” you mumbled, shaking your head ‘no.’ But Eddie was hardly convinced.

He gently grabbed a handful of your hair, clutching it at the back of your neck. You gasped, the silly grin evaporating from your lips. “Since you wanna act like a bitch-.” Eddie tugged you closer. “-Why don’t you get on the ground where a bitch belongs?”

Your pulse was racing, heat warming your cheeks. Eddie was fucking good at this. You could feel your body responding to him, the soft pressure between your legs beginning to throb.

You went to your knees at Eddie’s feet, his hand at the top of your head, holding you in place. He unzipped his pants, freeing his stiff, leaking cock. Your mouth watered with the need to taste him, to trace the prominent veins lining his cock with your tongue. It was reflexive, the way you automatically wrapped your lips around Eddie’s tip.

But he was not pleased. Eddie yanked your head backwards, breaking the seal of your mouth on his cock with a loud pop.

“Is that how a good little bitch behaves?” Eddie scolded, his tone condescending. He held your head still and laid his dick across your face. Eddie’s balls rested under your chin, his shaft covering your face to your forehead, where his tip leaked precum into your hair.

“Hold still,” he ordered. “Like a good little puppy…You want your treat? You’ll have to earn it.” Eddie made you sit patiently at his feet, poised with his cock on your face, for a full thirty seconds. He was literally treating you like his bitch, a dog to be trained.

“Good girl,” Eddie finally said, and took hold of his cock by the base, rubbing his tip along your lips. “You’ve earned a taste. Now, if you want all of it-.” Eddie’s cock pulsed in his fist. “I’m gonna need to hear you bark…”

“And what if I refuse?” you asked, feeling daring. Eddie almost broke character as a grin formed on his lips. But he shook it away immediately, reverting back to ‘mean Eddie.’

“Then you’ll have to be punished,” he replied. Eddie put his cock away, pressing it against his stomach and zipping it behind his pants. You pouted, longing to taste Eddie’s cock again. He lifted you off your knees and brought you to the couch, where he sat, and pointed to the floor in front to him. “Down,” Eddie commanded.

You went to your knees, hoping Eddie would take his cock back out. He did, but not with the intention of letting you suck it. Eddie had other ideas.

He wrapped a hand around his shaft and lazily stroked himself. Eddie positioned one of his feet between your knees, his black leather boots clunking against the floor. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he explained. “You’re going to watch me jerk off, and make yourself come on my boot…”

You obediently pressed your pussy against Eddie’s boot, shivering slightly at the cold feeling of the leather. “That’s a good girl,” Eddie praised. You squeezed your thighs around his foot. “Do a good job humping my boot, ‘n maybe I’ll let you hump my cock next…”

Eddie’s arrogance had you dripping. You began to roll your hips forward and back, rubbing your cunt against Eddie’s boot while he stroked himself, just as he’d instructed. The softness of the leather felt so good as you smeared your cunt over it. Eddie’s breath was husky as he watched you, his eyes alternating between the space where your cunt met his boot, and the view of your breasts bouncing between his knees as you humped him.

“Fuck, honey,” Eddie panted, the look in his eyes gorgeously vulnerable. “That’s so fucking hot; Christ-we should have tried this a long time ago…”

With Eddie in the weakened state he was currently in, you sensed he might be willing to let you taste his cock again. Before you could ask, Eddie was already grabbing a fistful of your hair and guiding your mouth over him. He used both his hands on top of your head to push you down, till you were swallowing his cock as far as you could take him.

The sound of your soft gurgles and grunts pushed Eddie over the limit. His fingers tightened inside your hair, a feral groan rumbling from his chest as he spilled his release against the back of your throat.

Finally tasting Eddie’s cum, after he’d made you wait so long for it, was like receiving a reward. You gulped Eddie’s semen and pressed your cunt more firmly into his boot, increasing the pace of your humping him. You felt the ache between your thighs grow shaper, reaching a peak, till you were coming on Eddie’s boot. Your slippery release gushed over the leather and ran down the sides of his boot, puddling on the floor between Eddie’s feet.

He pulled you onto the couch, holding you in his lap while both your breathing gradually returned to normal. Your gentle, sweet Eddie was back; and while you’d loved seeing him pretend to be someone else for awhile, you loved the real Eddie most of all…♥️

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #mean!eddie munson x reader

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melodymunson · 7 hours

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mondays are for steddie threesomes (dom!eddie x sub!steve x sub!fem!reader)

mdni 18+ only, bdsm elements, bondage, vibrator use, overstimulation, edging, bratty!steve, reader begs steve to cum, pls excuse nay typos!

Dom!Eddie keeping sub!Steve and sub!Reader bound together tightly with a vibrator between you. Neither of you can move, other than grind against the toy and smash your lips together. You've already cum twice, but Steve is doing everything he can to hold off his orgasm.

"Eddie, pleaseeee," The way you whine makes you drop your head in embarrassment. Your eyes look down at the buzzing toy between the two of you. Your thighs and cunt are soaked, the signs of your two orgasms painfully obvious from the wetness covering your cunt and thighs.

You and Steve had a pact to hold off cumming for as long as possible. A bratty attempt at solidarity which would have worked if you hadn't come so embarrassingly quickly.

"You know the rules, sweetheart," Eddie's tone paints you a picture of his condescending smile. "You're in this together. If you cum, Steve has to cum."

Steve groans in retaliation, "Come on, man..."

"Rules are rules, Stevie," Eddie walks over to you both, pressing his chest against your back. "Just let go, I know you're close."

For extra measure, Eddie presses a finger against the swollen head of Steve's cock. Your thoughts are as rattled as your cunt, your only connection to earth is focusing on the way a large bubble of precum bursts under Eddie's finger.

"Fuck!" Steve yells, his body pulling on the ropes binding you both together, although he doesn't get far. His body jerking movement only pushes the vibrator harder against your overstimulated pussy. Eddie chuckles at his reaction before placing his precum-soaked finger against your bottom lip. Instinctively, your lips wrap to suck away the salty taste of Steve.

"He's almost there, sweetheart," Eddie coos in your ear. "But I think he needs a little encouragement. Why don't you ask him to cum?"

You're a babbling mess as Eddie increases the speed of the vibrator. "Steve, please. Please, please cum for us. For me. Can you do it for me? You always look so pretty when you cum. I was good and came. I can be good for you, too. Please just cum, please Steve! I-I don't think I can..."

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steddie x reader

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melodymunson · 7 hours

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Comfortable Clothes

Based on this ask from @lazygrungekid 😘

Summary: Just a few fluffy words about letting Eddie wear your hoodie. (Reader is plus sized)

Warnings: None, really. Just some extreme fluff. Here I go again writing another best friends to dating story.

wc: 2k

When you joined Hellfire, you told Eddie not to make you a shirt. Not because you didn’t want one, you really did. But you were embarrassed. So embarrassed that you told him before he even got a chance to show you the one he already made for you. He had done it up special, changing the demon on the front so that it was wearing an incongruous tiara and the words ‘Queen of Hellfire’ on the back above a flaming heart. He wanted to impress you, and you didn’t even realize it.

You insisted that it wasn’t because you were scared or embarrassed about being in the club. Quite the opposite. You loved playing with them, you really liked the rest of the guys, and you found yourself falling for Eddie. He was kind, smarter than anyone gave him credit for, and protected you fiercely. It was easy to develop feelings for someone like that, but you never expected those feelings to be mutual.

It was easy to see the kind of girl Eddie would go for, the way he flirted with cheerleaders especially. He’d proven to be a great friend to you, but you knew that’s all you’d ever be to him. And honestly, he was such a good friend that that was enough, but it didn’t stop your pulse from racing every time you saw him.

He approached you one Friday before lunch, excited for the Hellfire session after school. “Hey, sweetheart, can we talk?” he asked.

You gave him a worried nod. “What’s on your mind, Munson?”

“You are. Will you please try on the Hellfire shirt I made you?” He asked the question again every week, hoping to wear you down. Maybe it was the way he looked at you with those pleading brown eyes, but you could almost feel a ‘yes’ forming in the back of your throat. “I have it with me. Will you at least look at it?”

“I thought it was just like everyone else’s.”

He shook his head. “Nope, made yours a little bit, uh, different. A little special.”

Curiosity got the best of you. You had to know what he meant by special. “You did?”

He nervously dug through his bag of Hellfire gear and pulled out the shirt. You could only hope it would fit. Then you saw the little hand drawn tiara, and you giggled. “Do you like it? It’s not too silly?” he asked.

“Eddie, I love it. Thank you!” you chirped, pressing a kiss to his cheek and flustering him slightly.

The blush on his pale skin was cute, you couldn’t help but notice. “Hey, go try it on. I’ll be right here, sweetheart.”

You were the only person he called sweetheart. Then again, you were the only girl in Hellfire so you never thought much of it. He called his favorite guitar sweetheart, so you assumed he meant it fondly towards you as well. You pulled off your favorite Iron Maiden t-shirt and pulled on your new Hellfire shirt. When you looked in the bathroom mirror to check how it looked, you noticed the back. Seeing the heart and the words Queen of Hellfire on the back made you smile. No one else had such a distinction bestowed upon them, not even Eddie himself.

When you approached him again, he grinned at you, eager for your reaction to his handiwork. “Eddie, this is great! Thank you!”

He shuffled nervously as he took in the sight of you in your special Hellfire shirt, the blush on his cheeks spreading to his nose. “You look so good, sweetheart.”

“Thanks. So Queen of Hellfire, huh? Since when?”

“Since, uh, since always, sweetheart. I made this special for you before I asked you to join.”

You looked at him, your heart threatening to pound its way out of your chest. He thought to make you a custom shirt before he asked you to officially be a member of the club. “That’s really sweet, Eddie.”

He nibbled his lower lip and diverted his eyes from you for a moment, as if something was on his mind. “Can we talk? Somewhere private?”

“Of course. What’s on your mind?” you asked as the pair of you headed outside.

Once you were far enough away from the student body, he leaned up against the brick building and pulled out a cigarette. “You are, sweetheart. Pretty much all the time. You didn’t know?”

“It’s kind of a surprise.”

“I’ve had a thing for you for a while, since before I asked you to join Hellfire,” he confessed.

You looked at him a little incredulously. “Shit, I honestly thought I wasn’t, um, your type. You’re usually checking out the cheerleaders. I mean, I can’t blame you, but that’s not me.”

“But you’ve never managed to notice the way I look at you? Sweetheart, I’m fuckin’ crazy about you, and I have been for a while. You really don’t know?”

“I’m about as surprised as you’ll be when I tell you how I feel about you. Eddie, I’ve had feelings for you for a while.”

“And you never told me?!”

“I didn’t think you’d feel the same way about me, and I wanted to preserve our friendship. You’re my best friend. How could I risk that?”

He smiled at you. “No chance of that, sweetheart. I’m crazy about you.”

And that was how you started dating your best friend. He teased you that it would have happened a lot sooner if you'd just worn the damn Hellfire shirt in the first place, but you were both happy that you could finally be together. After pining for him for so long, it was almost a relief not to hide it anymore. Until you were able to act on your desire to touch him, kiss him, snuggle against him, you had no idea how much you’d been hiding your feelings. Or how badly you both had missed the signals you were trying to send each other. You didn’t notice how he looked at you until he pointed it out, then you couldn’t believe you missed it for so long. He looked at you with total adoration in his eyes, like you were the only girl in the world. Those flirtations meant nothing when he looked at you like that.

It didn’t take long for word to spread throughout the school about you two. Eddie made sure of that with how affectionate he was. He wasn’t shy about showing people you were his, and you loved it. He was particularly fond of walking down the halls at school with his hand in the back pocket of your jeans. It wasn’t uncommon for teachers to spot you together and demand you put some space between the two of you, which you never did. He wouldn’t be caught dead obeying a teacher, and he never seemed to want to let you go.

Dating your best friend was better than you imagined. He was still your best friend, just with making out and more time alone with him. You insisted that dates didn’t need to be special, so you watched movies at his trailer or went to Lover’s Lake, or got burgers at Benny’s. Time together was enough for both of you.

You just wished that you could wear your boyfriend’s clothes like the other girls did. It was silly; you knew that. But you would have loved to steal his leather jacket and snuggle up in it, inhaling Eddie’s comforting, boyish scent. Part of you envied the girls who got to drown in their boyfriends’ clothes, especially the jackets and hoodies. But Eddie loved your body and wouldn’t change a thing. He treated you like a goddess, and you knew the cheerleaders wearing their jock boyfriends’ letterman jackets couldn’t say the same thing.

One chilly Friday, you were seated on his lap while he sat on his throne running that week’s session. He insisted that you belonged on that throne just as much as he did, and he always wanted to be close to you, so you sitting on his lap was the perfect solution. Surprisingly, it did nothing to soften his scary image. He could go from kissing you and showering you with sweet words to shouting at one of the other members of Hellfire for a bad roll. Sessions began taking longer and longer because sometimes he just had to stop the game to kiss you and to remind you and everyone else that you were his Queen. Not that anyone could forget while you were draped over him and coyly grinding on him while he tried to run the game.

“You’re being a tease, sweetheart,” he whispered to you during a players’ time out.

You batted your lashes at him and kissed him sweetly. “Yeah, but you like it, don’t you?”

He cradled your face in his hands and kissed you again, longer and deeper this time. “You’ll find out when I get you home, baby.”

You giggled, leaning back again as soon as the boys returned from their huddle. He gave you a squeeze and another soft kiss before going back into Dungeon Master mode. It amazed you how easily he could switch between sweet, adoring boyfriend and exuberant, scary Dungeon Master, sometimes within the same breath. That was one of the reasons you loved him; no matter what he was doing, he was always unapologetically himself.

When he ran a campaign, you were transfixed. He could make a world come alive with just his voice. It was another one of the things you loved about him. He was so creative and exuberant, whether he was running a Hellfire session or reading a chapter of Lord of the Rings to help you fall asleep. He embodied every character with a unique voice, including the narration. You could get lost in his imagination.

The session ended on a cliffhanger that left the rest of the party wailing in frustration at their sadistic Dungeon Master. But you just smiled. He’d given you a sneak peek into the rest of the campaign, and next week was going to be so much worse. Now you got to help him pack up his things before you went back to his trailer. It had become your favorite part of Fridays, alone time with Eddie.

The pair of you walked outside into the quiet evening, his hand enveloping yours. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, when did it get so cold?!” he asked, horrified at the drastic temperature drop. Autumn nights in Hawkins could get pretty frigid sometimes.

“You really hate the cold, don’t you, baby?” you giggled.

He pouted at you. “I’m convinced Hell is actually cold, not hot.”

You unzipped the hoodie you were wearing, the one with all the buttons and patches on it like his battle jacket. “Wanna wear my hoodie?”

He nodded, and his pretty brown eyes lit up. “W-would you be okay with that, sweetheart?”

“Hell yeah. I am if you are,” you assured him, slipping off your hoodie and offering it to him.

He snatched it eagerly and wrapped it around himself. “I had no idea your clothes were so comfy, sweetheart! You’re not getting this back.”

You had to laugh at that. “Stealing my clothes now?”

“You gave it to me. It can’t be stealing. Just extended borrowing. Joint custody of the sweater, if you will. Speaking of which, wanna share your Sabbath sweater with me, too?”

“Just promise to keep them clean,” you giggled, zipping up the hoodie for him. He looked so sweet in your clothes that it made you want to nibble on his neck, his shoulder, and any other part of him that seemed biteable.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him. Him wearing your clothes wasn’t the same as you wearing his, but it seemed to make him so happy. And you couldn’t deny that he looked cozy all snuggled up in your hoodie that wasn’t as big on him as you expected it to be. It didn’t look ridiculous like you thought it would, and he seemed to like it. The sight of him in your clothes brought you the same comfort you wished wearing his clothes could bring you, and that was how you knew you loved him.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you

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melodymunson · 7 hours

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Hypothetical

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Eddie asks a lot of hypothetical questions, just to hear your answer. The answer to this question was more real than you wanted to admit. Warnings: Tiny bit of self-doubt, idiots to lovers. Pairing: Eddie x fem!Reader (think it could be read as GN but just to be safe) Word Count: 2.7k

“Would you fuck my clone?”

The question, asked as casually as if he were inquiring about the weather - though, to his defense, he’d asked weirder - rose above the sound of chainsaws emanating from the television and earned a confused frown as you spared him a sideways glance.

Eddie’s attention remained mostly on Leatherface, chasing unsuspecting victims, but you caught his curious glance as you laughed. Those were the first words spoken in over an hour, certainly a record for your verbose best friend, and you couldn’t help but ask, “What the fuck, Eddie?”

“What?” From his position at the end of the couch, feet propped on the coffee table and head lolled onto the cushions, he shrugged. “It’s a simple question. Would you fuck my clone?”

A beat of silence passed, in which you realized this was one of those moments where Eddie wouldn’t let the question go until he was given a satisfying answer, and you sighed. “I don’t think that’s the question, Eds,” you countered. “Isn’t it usually, ‘would you fuck your own clone’?”

With a dismissive wave of his hand and a scoff, Eddie finally sat up and turned his full attention to you, screaming teenagers and chainsaws forgotten now that he had something better to capture his attention. “That one’s boring,” he reasoned. “We know all the arguments. This is a different question, new arguments.”

“I think we’re fine without arguing,” you teased, reaching for the nearly half-empty bowl of popcorn. “Just watch the movie, Eddie.”

From the corner of your eye, you watched as a look you couldn’t quite recognize flickered across Eddie’s face. However, just as quickly as it appeared, it was covered with a raised brow and a teasing grin. “We’ve seen it a hundred times already. Anyway, what I’m getting from this is, you would fuck my clone. Interesting.”

Eddie did little to hide his amusement as you rolled your eyes and tossed a piece of popcorn at him. “I didn’t say that,” you argued, despite yourself - despite knowing that you were walking into a conversation you weren’t yet sure you wanted any part of.

A hum, unconvinced, met your ears as he reached for the bowl and plucked it from your hands. “Okay,” he prompted, ignoring your outraged huff. “So, tell me. Would you?”

There were a handful of ways you could respond to his probing. The first, shut down his question with a point blank refusal, phrased as a light-hearted joke that did little damage to his ego and even less to your already fragile nerves. The second, play into his game and debate the pros and cons of sleeping with his clone, the ethical ramifications, the conversation he clearly wanted. Or, the third, admit to him a fact that you’d concealed since the summer of 1984.

Any way you could have him, real Eddie or clone, you would take it.

That was, solidly, not in the lead. So, you opted for the second approach.

“Jeez, Eds,” you sighed, stealing popcorn from the bowl now resting on his lap. “I don’t know. Maybe,” you conceded. “Depends, I guess. Is he, like, total you or some weird, kinda fucked up clone? Like, is he totally evil or incapable of coherent thought or, I don’t, off somehow?” As an afterthought, you joked, “More so than the real you, anyway.”

“Rude.” There was no bite in the declaration, only a fond amusement that made your chest ache, but you did your best to ignore it as he hummed. “Clone’s a totally normal, complete carbon copy. Everything about him is exactly the same, down to the last hair.”

“So, no aspirations to rule the world or become, like, the next Leatherface?”

Eddie grinned. “That’s my backup plan, you know, if music doesn’t work. So, guess it’d be his, too,” he admitted, only breaking into laughter when you grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it. “Seriously,” he relented, “nothing weird. Just another me. Everything you know and love, times two.”

With a sigh, you lifted your legs onto the couch and hugged your knees to your chest. “Then… I don’t know,” you admitted, voice barely audible over the screams still echoing from the television. “Maybe?”

“It’s a yes or no question, babe,” he reminded you, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed as he studied you. “Shouldn’t be this hard.”

That look, the one that you had difficulty placing, returned and despite your uncertainty as to what it was, you were certain that you didn’t like it very much. Doubt, or maybe hurt, were the closest emotions you could identify though neither made much sense to you in the moment.

Still, rather than ask, you rolled your eyes. “What’s the point of this conversation?”

There was none, it was just for fun - a debate, like the thousands of others you’d had over the course of your friendship - and Eddie said a much as he shrugged. “Isn’t one,” he declared, offering you the last handful of popcorn. “I just want to know if you’d fuck my clone.”

When you refused, he returned the bowl back to the coffee table before reaching for your ankle. With a gentle tug, he encouraged you to rest your feet on his lap as his fingers began to tap a beat that only existed inside his head against your skin. “Why does it matter?”

Eddie shrugged once more, though this time, he glanced at the television rather than you as he answered. “Because I asked and you always answer.”

“I do,” you relented, sighing as you also spared the screen a glance. “Well, what’s the right answer, then? There has to be one.”

This time, he shook his head as the tapping of his fingers grew a touch faster. “Right answer’s the true one.”

For a moment, you simply studied Eddie. His side profile, bathed in the warm glow of the television, was the picture of concentration as he watched a scene you’d seen a thousand times before. Only, you knew him well enough to see the telltale signs that he was in no way paying as close of attention as he should’ve been.

The slightest tick in his jaw, the quick bite of the inside of his cheek, the delayed blinking; all signs that he was waiting more intently for your answer than he wanted you to believe.

Rejection - no matter how hypothetical - never seemed possible when it came to Eddie. So, you sighed and conceded, “Okay, fine. Sure, I’d fuck your clone.”

Eddie hummed, seemingly unsurprised and feigning nonchalance as he nodded as if the answer confirmed something he already suspected. And there were a thousand ways in which you expected him to respond; none of which could’ve compared to him declaring, “So, you’d fuck my clone but not me.”

Again, rejection was not an option. However, you had no intention of admitting to him that you’d wanted him for years. There was no world in which you could see yourself admitting to him that you thought he was beautiful - with his doe eyes and playful grin. Telling him how you felt would likely end in an awkward silence at best and a ruined friendship at worst.

So, you opted for a careful denial. “What? I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re not saying anything to the contrary,” he countered, turning his head to spare you a cursory glance. There was something there, beneath the amused glimmer in his eyes, that unnerved you - something far more serious than you were expecting - but as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

When you shot him an unimpressed glance, cutting your eyes at him before returning your attention to the television, he shrugged, teasing grin never faltering. “I never said that. I answered a hypothetical and you’re reading into it.”

Eddie met your perhaps too sharp denial with a raised brow as he gave up the guise of watching the movie. “So, am I wrong?”

“Would you stop putting words into my mouth?” You huffed as you reached for the bowl of popcorn, desperate for something to distract yourself from making a confession you knew you would regret. “I never said that. All I said was that I’d fuck your clone, I answered the question.”

“Okay, fine. You never said you wouldn’t fuck me but it’s never happened. Never even sort of, almost, maybe happened,” he reminded you - as if you needed it. “So, you would fuck my clone but not me. Why?”

“Because we’re friends, Eddie,” you shot back, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as you popped a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “I’ve known you since I was ten.”

The excuse sounded weak in your own ears, but it was all you could muster without breaking down and confessing that you would, in fact, sleep with him. If only he’d ask. If only it wouldn’t destroy your friendship. If only it was that simple.

Still, Eddie was relentless. “But my clone would have all my memories, totally the same person,” he reminded you. “He’d be your friend, just like me. But you’d fuck him. So, why not me?”

“This is stupid,” you huffed. “Why do you care?” He’d never pushed so hard, not in pursuit of a hypothetical question meant to pass the time, and you were genuinely curious why he seemed so interested in your answer, or your lack thereof.

“I’m a naturally curious person,” he argued, shrugging as he squeezed your ankle. “It’s just a stupid hypothetical. C’mon, why would you hypothetically fuck my clone but not me?”

There was little doubt in your mind that he would continue pushing until he got the answer he was looking for, especially as it seemed that he’d already made up his mind that he was right, so you shifted yourself in a huff. With your legs now hugged to your chest, eyes on the television to avoid meeting his gaze as you admitted in a snap, “God, okay. I’d fuck your clone because it’s the closest I’d get to being with you without actually destroying our entire relationship. Happy with that answer?”

“What?” Eddie sounded genuinely surprised and you could feel the warmth of his gaze burning into your skin as you purposely kept your gaze on the television.

“If your clone is you, all your memories, your mannerisms, your looks, I’d fuck your clone because then I’d get to see what it’s like to be with you,” you admitted, words escaping despite every fiber of your being telling you to be quiet. “I’d get everything without the risk of losing you when I fuck it all up.”

Eddie shifted closer then, careful to keep a few inches of space between you but no longer nestled into the opposite edge of the couch as he tipped his head to get a better glimpse of your face. “What do you mean, when you fuck it up?”

Frustrated tears - at admitting a secret you swore would follow you to the grave, at allowing him to get under your skin when he was simply asking an innocent question, at allowing yourself to get so worked up over something so simple - stung at the backs of your eyes as you huffed. “I’m… you know me, Eddie. I don’t,” you sighed, cutting yourself off, before taking a deep breath. “I’m prickly. I don’t do well with romance. I freak out and run,” you reminded him. “Even if you felt the same, if we worked out enough to not have our friendship go down in flames, there’s still a chance I’d fuck it up and I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to run from you.”

“Hey.” Eddie shifted even closer, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, and sighed when you refused to glance at him. Regardless, he exclaimed, “That’s why we’d be different.”

“What?” Of all the things you expected him to say, that was the last. With furrowed brows and tears still lining your lashes, you tipped your head to glance at him. “Why?”

“Because,” he began, meeting your eyes for the first time in what felt like hours, “when you try to run, I know what you’re doing. When you get all weird or try to push me away, I know it’s not really you wanting me to go. I know you. I get you, just like you get me.”

“Eddie.”

Of all the ways you’d expected him to react, of all the ways you expected him to acknowledge your feelings for him, returning them was not on the list. For years, you’d convinced yourself that there was no way he would return your feelings, there was no way you would ever be able to acknowledge those feelings without losing your best friend, and there was still a deep-rooted fear that, despite his seeming certainty that his understanding would make a difference, any attempt at a relationship would only end in heartbreak.

That didn’t seem to matter to him as he pressed on. “I’m serious. It’s us,” he continued, this time reaching out to press a hand to your knee. “It’s always been us, always will be us. There’s nothing you can do to get rid of me. Not now.”

“You can’t know that,” you sighed, though it was nowhere near as confident as you hoped it would be. “We can’t see the future.”

“We can’t,” he agreed. “Not yet, anyway, but the nineties seem promising.” When you rolled your eyes, barely suppressing a smile, he laughed. “But that’s the fun part. We do our best to make our own future. It’s always going to be together, might as well come clean and really be together instead of making ourselves miserable pretending.” Before you could respond, offer another half-hearted refusal, he pressed on. “What do we have to lose?”

“Everything.”

Eddie shook his head, completely unconvinced that anything bad would come of allowing yourselves to try. “I don’t believe that. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

“How can you be so certain?” You wished you had an ounce of Eddie’s certainty, his true belief that the pair of you could make it, but you were skeptical. Neither of you had much luck in life, neither of you had much outside of one another, and losing him would be far too great.

However, you were tired of pretending that a shared future was not what you wanted.

The possibility that your future could go up in flames, that you could destroy the best friendship you’d ever had, worried you. It kept you awake at night. But now knowing that Eddie felt the same, that he wanted the same future you did, there was no way you could turn him down.

For all your fear, for all your hesitance, saying no was not an option.

“Because we’ve been in love for years and nothing bad has happened yet.” He said it as if it was the most obvious answer he could give, as if it made all the sense in the world, and if you really stopped to think about it, it did.

“Can you promise me something?”

Eddie shifted ever closer, nodding easily as you reached for his hand. “Anything.”

“Can you promise me that no matter what happens, we’ll always be friends? Even if we don’t work out, if something happens, promise me that we’ll still be there for each other.”

“I promise. Nothing hypothetical about that,” he agreed, corner of his mouth lifting when you offered a soft smile.

The moment stretched around you, nothing existed outside of the pair of you as Eddie tugged you into his side. It was easy, natural, and you melted into his touch despite the fear lingering in the back of your mind.

There was a brief worry that this could be a mistake. That allowing yourselves to intertwine your futures so thoroughly would only end in heartbreak, but he was right. For as long as you could remember, it had been you and Eddie. There was nothing that had managed to wedge you apart yet. And pretending had no guarantee of working in the long term.

So, you decided to dive in to the deep end and allow yourself to truly fall. There was no situation, real or hypothetical, in which he would allow you to hit the ground.

No matter what, you knew that he would be there to catch you.

________________________________________________________

Author's Note: I spent my entire day in meetings. All the meetings. So many meetings. I also have a dentist appointment on Wednesday and I am Terrified. So have this.

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff, @valthevalkyrie-main, @crying-caro, @inglourious-imagines

#eddie munson x reader #tbr

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melodymunson · 7 hours

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Loving Mr.Munson- In the beginning - Part one- Connection

This is a mini series, a Prologue to the Loving Mr. Munson series that I am writing -

This series is based the reader, giving insight into her life and what her life was like dating the infamous Robbie Munson, Eddie's son. It brings us through the first date, the first time meeting Mr. Munson and the reader catching Robbie cheating. This was a request and I hope that you all enjoy it!

🛑 Smut warning- Mature content-18+ -Minors DNI 🛑

Robbie Munson:

Reader:

You couldn't believe it, tonight you were actually going out on a date. It's not like you had never dated before, you had in highschool, you had a boyfriend in highschool. Said boyfriend had however decided that it would probably be better if you amicably broke up before college leaving the door open for the both of you to , how did he put it, 'Explore other options." You were heartbroken, not really feeling the need to explore other options, you would have been perfectly happy in a long distance relationship, calling and catching up in person when possible, he was only going to school an hour away for christ sakes, it was not like he was halfway across the country! But you decided that you were probably better off anyway, that without him on your mind you would be able to concentrate on your work, put all of your focus on learning.

You weren't even interested in being in a relationship, you were fine with being alone, you were a smart, independent girl, you had friends that you hung out with ,but you were also happy just hanging back and reading in your dorm room. You were fine being a homebody, and lived vicariously through your crazy roommate Lisa, she was the complete opposite of you, she was wild and crazy and outgoing and the two of you were instant friends . You had really won the lottery with her, you had heard nightmarish stories of college roommates that were absolute nutcases and felt fortunate that you had been placed with her.

Freshman year flew by, your grades were outstanding, your parents were extremely proud of you and you felt completely in the zone and ready for your Sophomore year. Sure your classes were be a little more difficult but you could handle it, you had no distractions in your life.... until the fateful night that Lisa took you to a party. That was the night you met Robbie Munson.

" You need to get out and live a little! You always stay cooped up in this room, studying and reading, your halfway through your Sophomore year and you haven't even been to a party, you haven't gotten laid-" Your roommate stood before ripping the textbook from your hands." Your going out tonight. There are going to be some super hot guys at this party maybe you can finally hook up-"

You shook your head and grabbed at the book." I don't really care about hooking up Lisa-"

" Well I care! Your practically a Nun!" She tossed the book away. " Don't be such a nerd! Come out with me!"

" I can't, I don't have anything to wear-"

" You can borrow something from me -"

" My ass is way bigger than yours is-"

" Great! Show it off! Your way too pretty to hide yourself away in this room. " She sighed then whined, "Come on!"

You sighed back. " Fine, fine! " You flopped back on your bed dramatically." Find me something to wear "

" Yes!" Lisa shrieked and ran to her closet and started throwing clothes at you.

You let her, as she called it,'Slut you up' a little bit, she did your makeup, your hair and picked out an outfit then you guys were out the door.

The party was mayhem, loud and crowded, definitely not your scene, and shortly after arriving you found yourself wandering out to the porch for some fresh air. That's when you caught a whiff of pot, that is when you met Robbie Munson.

He was gorgeous, he had the kindest eyes you had ever seen and they drew you in. You spent the rest of the night sitting on the front porch talking and laughing like you had known him your whole life. He was funny and oozed charm and charisma, you had never met anyone like Robbie Munson.

" So gorgeous girl," He flashed you a toothy smile. " I felt a connection between the two of us,did you feel a connection?"

You smiled. There was definitely something there between the two of you." I'm feeling a spark for sure."

He smiled again." Good, that's good. " He bit his lip and lightly ran a finger along the back of your hand." I think that we should see where this -" he pointed between the two of you." Goes. Whatta ya say? Want to go out sometime?"

" Yes!" You answered almost too quickly." That would be wonderful."

" Tomorrow? Is that too soon? Do you have any plans?"

" I was just planning on studying but other than that I'm open."

" You're a smart cookie aren't you?How about this Sweetheart, since midterms are right around the corner, and we could both probably use a little review why don't we do a study date? Unless you think that is totally lame-"

" No! Not at all! It would be perfect."

" We could study, I could get us a pizza, beer, we could get to know each other, super casual, super chill."

You sighed. " That sounds amazing."

Robbie smiled and it made your heart melt. "Than it's a date. Wanna study here? Pretty sure my roommates will all be out for the night, it being the weekend and all, we would have the place to ourselves."

"Sounds great." You smiled. You watched as he picked up your hand and brought it to his lips.

" Until tomorrow Cookie."

**********************************************************

You fiddled with the hem of your sweater as you stood on the front porch of Robbie's place waiting for him to answer the door. You were so fucking nervous, it had been forever since you had been on a date, forever since you had kissed someone and sex- you practically considered yourself to be a born again virgin at this point. What if one thing led to another and you ended up having sex tonight? Would you even remember what to do? The thought made your stomach flutter.

You jumped when the door opened and you could only hope that he hadn't seen you.

A large smile spread across his face. "Welcome back Cookie, come on in."

You felt your heart pitter patter at the sweet nickname. You smile." Thanks Robbie."

He guided you into the house,placing a hand on your lower back, and lead you into the dining room where there was pizza and cold beer waiting . "Welcome, make yourself at home."

The two of you studied for a couple of hours, quizzing each other on different subjects, and your stomach did flip flops every time you caught him looking at you over the top of his book . The two of you would try to keep it interesting by asking questions about each other along the way, you found out that Robbie was an only child, that he had been raised solely by his dad, that his mom had abandoned them when he was just a baby, and that he was the first Munson to go to college. He had played a lot of sports in middle school and high school, but didn't consider himself a jock, he did some theater, played the guitar a little bit and had very eclectic music taste.

You were absolutely drawn to him, and there were times when you realized that you were simply staring at him, into his big dark brown puppy dog eyes, at his full lips. He was the prettiest boy you had ever seen.

" I have a question for you Cookie," Robbie smiled and reached across the table taking one of your hands in his and making circles along the back of it with his thumb.

" Sure, fire away Munson ." You were trying to play it cool, but the truth was just the feeling of your hand in his was making your heart flutter.

" Can I kiss you?" His eyes locked with yours.

You blinked. This gorgeous boy wanted to kiss you? You had to make sure you weren't dreaming," You want to kiss me?"

He smiled." I've been wanting to kiss you all goddamned night, from the second you walked in that door."

" Really?"

" Yes really." He ran a finger down the side of your face and leaned forward across the table." So, what do you say?"

You leaned the rest of the way across the table and lightly placed your mouth on his. His lips were soft and warm on yours, pillowy and plush, and when he reached up and held your face gently in his hands, you knew you were a goner. You had forgotten how much you liked kissing, the intimacy of it, and Robbie, he was an amazing kisser. You could kiss this boy all night, and you did. The initial kiss at the table lead to kissing in the hallway, getting pressed up against the door to his bedroom, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck. He pulled away just long enough to open the door then his mouth was on yours again and he was walking you back towards the bed. You felt the back of your legs hit the mattress and you pulled him down with you. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

Robbie pulled away, his body now hovering over yours."We can stop at anytime Sweetheart, ok?"

You looked up at him and smiled. " I don't want to stop Robbie, please don't stop, it's just that it's been a while-"

He cupped your cheek in his hand and smiled." Don't worry baby, I will take good care of you." And just like that his mouth and his hands were all over you. His touch was gentle and sweet, and you could feel your body trembling as he undressed you, it wasn't because of fear, though you were a little nervous, it was more from anticipation, knowing what was coming next. You certainly weren't a prude but you weren't typically the kind of girl to put out on the first date. But there was something different with Robbie, there was a connection, like you could see this turning into something more. Maybe you were just naive, maybe you were just horny.

And you had to admit it, you missed this. You missed the closeness, the warmness and weight of a male body on top of you. There was something about the hardness of his body complimenting the softness of yours. He took his time, almost painstakingly so, warming you up, making sure that your body was ready for him. You gasped as he entered you, feeling the fullness of him inside you. It had been so long since the last time you had sex that you had almost forgotten how good it felt.

Robbie groaned as he slowly pumped in and out of you, the sound of his voice was music to your ears. It felt so good and you hoped and prayed that for his sake and yours you would be able to climax. It wasn't always something that happened and your previous boyfriend often times he made you feel like you were broken because you didn't cum every time. He also ignored the fact that 90% of the time he fucked into you like a jackrabbit and was done in two minutes, but according to him that didn't have anything to do with it at all.

Robbie was different, he was taking his time with you, maybe it was because it was your first time, maybe not but it was incredible.

You soon felt the dizzying wave of pleasure wash over you and you were greatful for the release, and just moments after Robbie climaxed, spilling his seed into the condom that he wore. He collapsed on top of you and you ran your fingers through his thick curls. He picked up his head and smiled, his beautiful eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Stay with me." He leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to your dewy forehead and you swore in that moment you knew, that this could potentially turn into something truly special.

As always thank you for reading❤️ I always appreciate comments and re-blogs,you guys are the best🥰

Tag list Lovlies : @tlclick73 @fairymunson @micheledawn1975 @elegantkoalapaper @goth-cowgirl-03 @bmunson86 @retrorage86 @hideoutside @veemoon @emmyshortcake @erinekc @babyloutattoo89 @amberolivia666 @eddiesxangel @liminalpebble @eddiesacousticguitar @munsons-mayhem28 @munsonsmullet @skyline4446 @maskofmirrors @blainetiberiuswinchester @bexreadstoomuch @xxhellfirebunnyxx @candice-1983 @imyourdaninow @harrywavycurly @corkadymu @eddiesguitarskills @mmunson86

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #dilf!eddie munson #older eddie munson

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melodymunson · 7 hours

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go read it its awesome! <3

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fic #steve x oc #fic rec

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melodymunson · 7 hours

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it will come back

part one

a.k.a. sever the blight (eddie's version)

pairing(s): werewolf!eddie munson x fem!milkmaid!reader

summary: You don’t go into the woods. You don’t talk to strangers. And you don’t, under any circumstances, approach a wolf. Unless one shows up bleeding at your door.

cw: dark themes, mature content, animal cruelty, animal death mention, gunshots, physical abuse, reader is a servant to an abusive master, misogyny, suggestive themes, fairytale au, some kind of historical fantasy period, inspired by The Company of Wolves by Angela Carter, eventual smut (in later parts)

a/n: hiiiiiiii :) so remember when i said i'd stop posting fic on tumblr? well one mental breakdown later i decided that was literally making me miserable and ruining my hobby! so i'm back. it's me, hi, i'm the problem it's me <3 this is a reupload

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

There are things they tell you about the woods from the time you are born, weaning you on them just the same as you are weaned on milk. Don’t go into the woods on a full moon. Don’t talk to strange men. Likewise, if you see a strange man alone in the pines on the full moon, run and don’t look back. And don’t, for any reason, approach a wolf at any time. They’ll kill you before you turn the other cheek.

In your twenty-some-odd years, you have never seen a wolf. You’ve heard them howling, distantly, so deep in the forest that you don’t even feel the need to be frightened by it. They exist in there, somewhere, going about their business as wolves do.

Sometimes you hear about the wolves wandering into town. Old Mr. Thatch, from just over the creek, said his pigs were slaughtered in the night. He’ll have to spend a fortune to get a few more. Torben Plack from the end of Warder’s Row saw one drinking from the horse trough outside the inn last month.

There are whispers of wolves when a baby is missing from its crib. There are whispers of murder in the night. There are accusations that some of the townsfolk themselves are wolves in disguise.

Nonsense, the lot of it. Or, that’s what you believe. That’s what you choose to think about it– even though you’ve been told time and again that a pretty girl doesn’t think, a pretty girl believes and does what she’s told. She doesn’t go into the woods. She does her chores and she says her prayers and she marries a boy with a healthy income and lives quietly, rearing children until she can’t anymore.

(You don’t believe that, either.)

You don’t have the luxury of making any other choices, though. You are a servant, a milkmaid in the employ of a rather cold Master– you have no time for philosophy or discerning what you do and don’t believe about the local folklore.

You milk the cow. You chop the firewood. You feed the chickens. You harvest the cabbage and you don’t complain. You sleep on your bed in your shack– or, servant’s quarters– behind the grand house and you don’t, under any circumstances, question the Master or his wife. You wash the bedsheets after he sloppily takes his wife to bed, and you try to hide your disgust.

You usually do what you’re told. Usually.

On a night when the moon hangs round and full in the sky, lighting the stretch of land beyond your small shack in a milky blue haze, you’re building a small fire in the fireplace when you hear it. The howling. It’s so much closer than you’ve ever heard it, almost as though the wolves are just beyond the treeline that backs up to your master’s land.

You pay it no mind. Normally, the wolves are on the hunt for something– small animals that titter through the woods, unassuming until it’s too late. The howling will be distant soon, and you’ll be able to sleep soundly while the rest of the town frets about the dangers of the wolf-men, locking their windows and bolstering their doors.

Just as you thought, the howls drift away slowly. You snuggle down into the covers of your bed, and you barely flinch when Mr. Thatch fires off a pistol over the creek, ringing through the dead night louder than hell. These things mean little to you. You’re more interested in what the land of dreams holds for you tonight– it’s one of the only reprieves you get from your long days of work.

It isn’t until ten minutes later, when you are mere inches from sleep, that you hear a soft whining outside your cabin door. At first, you think it’s the wind. Then, when it gets louder, you wonder if you’re imagining it.

And when it turns into a soft howling, well. That’s not your imagination.

You wrap a woven blanket around your shoulders and leave the door open when you step out into the chilly night. You don’t have a candle– you could always knick one from the Mistress, but that might risk getting caught, and you don’t love that idea. So, you contend with the little amount of light that spills out of the open door from your small fireplace, and you squint into the dark toward the source of the sound.

It takes shape in the form of a wolf. A big one, covered in black fur and curled up beneath the gabled roof, as though attempting to make itself smaller. It shivers and whimpers miserably, tucking its paws close to its body.

You shrink back in the doorway, drawing your blanket closer around your shoulders. The hum of crickets in the bushes and in the grass across the pasture covers the shakiness of your rapid breathing. You don’t know what to do. You couldn’t possibly be expected to bother the Master this late at night– even if it is a wolf, the barn is shut up and the animals are safe. You’d probably be expected to just stay put in your little cabin and wait for it to go away on its own. Maybe in the morning the Master will find it and skin it for the Mistress’s bedquilt.

The image makes you shudder. This poor thing– even if it is nearly as big as you, even if it’s a nasty predator in the eyes of everyone else– is clearly looking for some sort of reprieve. Just the same as you do at the end of the day. You can’t let it be skinned alive just for searching for safety.

“Hey,” you whisper softly, and you know the creature hears you, because it flinches badly. Almost as though it may bolt away in a panic. “No, no… don’t be frightened.”

You lower yourself down towards the ground, tentatively inching forward as the creature turns its head to blink up at you. Water brims its dark eyes, sparkling in the low light from your open door. Streaks of tears flatten the fur on its snout; the wretched thing lets out a noise like a sob, hanging its head like it doesn’t have the energy to stand you off.

“I’ve never seen a wolf cry before,” you tell it quietly. You’ve never seen a wolf, period, but you don’t need to tell it that. You’re not sure that it can understand you, anyways, but you keep talking like it can. “Are you hurt?”

The wolf snorts, sneezes loudly, and then trembles. There’s a high pitched whining, a heart-shattering noise that cuts deep into your chest as the beast cowers away from you. The whine turns into a low growl when you move a bit closer, but it doesn’t sound like it really means business. More like it doesn’t know what to do with your closeness.

“Hey,” you say again, more insistently. You inch your way forward, crouched low to the ground, holding your blanket around you with one hand as you reach the other out toward it. You’ve never tried to approach a wolf. You don’t know if it’s similar to trying to gain a domesticated dog’s trust– hold out your hand, let it catch your scent. Show it that you mean no harm, allow it to come to you. “I’m trying to help you, okay? Let me help.”

The wolf growls for a moment longer before finally relenting, and reaching its head forward to sniff curiously at your hand. You don’t know what you expect– perhaps that it would drop its head again, or back away cautiously. Instead, the wolf surprises you by pushing its head into your outstretched palm like a sad puppy.

“Oh,” you coo, stroking the wolf’s soft head as it trembles. Its ears twitch against your fingers, and it snuffles a few times, its body shaking with each, like an all-too-human fit of sobbing. “Okay, baby. Let’s get you inside.”

Again, it’s a shot in the dark. You back slowly away from the creature, whose watery eyes blink up at you, and then you stand, and open the cabin door wider. The wolf doesn’t move, still continuing to shake with its uneven breathing.

You take a step into the door, and watch as the wolf slowly struggles up out of its cowering position. On all four legs, it seems to be favoring its right front leg, lifting its left paw limply upward. When you take another step back into the cabin, and it follows, it shudders a breath and limps badly on its left leg.

“Good job, honey,” you tell the wolf gently as it tentatively follows you into the cabin.

You don’t know whether to leave the door open or to shut it; you’re not sure if there’s any wisdom in shutting yourself in close quarters with a wild animal, but you also don’t want the Master to find it come morning. You suck your teeth and swing the door shut, quietly latching it and hoping the damned thing doesn’t suddenly decide it’s too hungry.

You turn, and take two steps before dropping to your knees in front of the fireplace, where the most light hits the ground. You drop your blanket to the floor, and pat your lap as you look at the creature shivering a few feet away. “C’mere. Lay down.”

As far as you know, wolves don’t normally lay down and play lapdog for strange humans, but this one does. You wonder at it, remarkable in its size and beauty, as it flops down tiredly onto your floor and rests its head in your lap. Through your cotton chemise, the wolf’s chin is warmer than the heat of the fire.

You pet the wolf’s head again gently as you examine its left leg. It doesn’t seem to have any major wounds except for a spot of wetness on the side of it. When you lift it, the wolf in your lap whines loudly.

“I know, baby,” you coo at it, trying to pet its head as soothingly as you can while you look over the mangled leg and paw. Through the fur and dirt, you see a patch of pink skin matted with bright red, and your own hand comes away smeared with blood. There is a bad gash, enough to still be bleeding.

You don’t want to jostle the animal now that it’s relatively comfortable, so you bend backwards and sideways to reach the cup of water on the shelf at your bedside. It’s what you have on hand to clean the wound– you suppose you could sneak into the grand house to steal some soap, but just the same as the candle, you’d rather not risk it. You take your time in pouring cool, clean water on the wolf’s wound, rubbing dirt and blood away from the gash. In your lap, the beast huffs softly in response.

“I don’t know what you’re doing out of the woods,” you tell it as you tenderly clean its wound, expecting that you’re only speaking to settle your own nerves, “but you ought not to come around here too often. The men here are bloodthirsty. Don’t want you getting any more beat up.”

The wolf heaves a sigh. For what it’s worth, you take that as some sort of acknowledgement.

“I can’t do much else for you besides this,” you continue softly. The wound is clean now, the fur gone wet enough that you can pull it aside and peer at the gash itself. It’s quite deep, straight, and slices from the middle of its leg upward at a diagonal. It continues to ooze even as you examine it, painting your fingers red. You tip a little more water onto it.

You grab one corner of the blanket you’d used to wrap yourself, and rip a strip off along the grain. The light pink fabric looks almost comical when you wrap it around the wolf’s leg, tying it and tucking the tails in gently so that it won’t fall off too easily. You figure, eventually, the damn thing will come off while the wolf goes off on its merry way. You don’t delude yourself into thinking you’ve got a pet, now.

“I wish I could give you more,” you tell the beast, petting your hand down its mane, feeling the silken fur slide through your fingers like the plushest finery that you’ll never be able to enjoy for yourself. “But, I suppose, you can rest here tonight. If you promise to stay polite.”

The wolf doesn’t fuss when you slide a stiff pillow under its chin, and slip back under the covers of your bed. You gaze at it, curled up in a big black mass on your floor in front of the hearth, and you wonder why on earth a wild animal would be so well behaved.

You wonder how a wolf is capable of crying.

You wake in the early morning light expecting to find a big black wolf sleeping in front of your hearth. Instead, when you rouse and rub the sleep from your eyes, you find that the wolf is gone.

In fact, there appears to have been no wolf at all. No blood on the floor, no black fur on the pillow that has inexplicably reappeared on the foot of your bed. Your water cup is full. And the door to your cabin is latched, just the same as it had been last night, after you let the wolf in.

By all appearances, nothing happened last night. There was no wolf. You half expect that you dreamed the entire thing. And you would continue to believe so– but, the end of your pink woven blanket is still torn, missing a strip from the end, frayed along the grain.

You slip from your bed and fling open the door to your shack, emerging into the cool morning air. You look down at the nook beside the door where the wolf had huddled in the dark, seeking shelter away from harm. There is nothing there to suggest that it had been there last night.

But you know it to be true. You know it.

How could a wolf, a four legged creature with full use of only three of them, manage to unlatch your door, step out, and then relatch it from the other side? How could your water magically refill itself? It’s a mile to the well in the town square, and it’s not like the wolf could have done it.

Broken from your thoughts, you hear a shriek of your name. You lift your head to see your Mistress, fully dressed, feeding the chickens. The daily chores have already begun.

“What are you doing outside in your underclothes?!” your Mistress yells, flinging grain down at the birds. “Go inside and dress yourself this instant, you wretch! And begin your morning duties!”

You jump, darting back behind the door. You hadn’t thought anyone would be out yet. “Sorry, Mistress!”

You rush to grab your stays from the end of your bed. You’ll pay for that one, you think.

There are a million reasons why you prefer doing your chores out of the house.

One, the Mistress isn’t around to rag on you over every little thing. Two, you don’t have to be watching over your shoulder to make sure you aren’t in the Master’s way. And three, you can take all the time you want to do other things as well, as long as you get done before dinner has to be served.

Your skirt is filthy, but it’s a beautiful day, and the creek that separates your Master’s land from Mr. Thatch’s land is babbling quite a bit, and it makes doing the washing up much easier than it otherwise would be. Which you’re happy about, since your arm is so badly welted you can barely curl your fingers.

You sniffle and lift your apron to wipe your nose. Then you wring out the Mistress’s petticoat– of which there are far too many for one woman to reasonably have– you whine at the strain on your injured hand, and you move to the basket of other soiled clothes. You think about blowing your nose in the Master’s linen shirt, and you’re about two seconds from doing it, too, when you hear a splash nearby.

“Shit,” says a man’s voice. There are a couple more splashes around the bend, and then yelps, and then there’s one enormous splash, and a laugh.

“Hello?” you call, trying to peer around the bank of overgrowth beside you. Then, there’s a cacophonous amount of splashing, which makes you screw up your face, and a man emerges from around the bank of greenery.

You pause, holding your Master’s laundry in your hands over the water like you’re wondering whether to dip it in or not. Really, you’re just shocked to see a strange man on your Master’s property at all. He’s out of breath, rosy cheeked and soaking wet from the chest down.

“Um,” is all you can say.

“Hello there,” the man says with a rakish grin that flashes sharp teeth at you. You blink a few times, just to make sure he’s really there. And when you do satisfy yourself with the fact that, yes, he’s very real, you then have to acclimate yourself to the idea that he’s also absolutely beautiful.

His very pretty face is framed by long, dark hair, and his eyes are strikingly dark. There’s something on his skin peeking out of the open collar of his burgundy blouse, but to look at that from this distance means to look at the way his shirt clings to his body, and then his trousers, and if you weren’t already struck dumb, now you are.

“How– how are you– um.” You wave your hands around, gesturing to the general area around you. “Whatareyoudoinghere?”

“I think I was going for a swim, of sorts,” the man laughs, holding one arm out a bit to indicate his damp appearance.

“Who are you?”

“Now, there’s a question for the ages.” The man tromps forward through the water, splashing along gracelessly and with exaggerated steps, like he’s trying to make you laugh. “Generally speaking, no one really cares who I am, just what I want.”

“Okay,” you snap, irritated by the man’s jovial attitude and his need to speak in riddles. “What do you want? Why are you on this land? What business do you have here, and with whom?”

“Whoa, hey–” the man holds up his hands, and grimaces like it’s painful to do so. Then he recovers with a flashy smile. “I don’t mean you any harm, princess. I have no business anywhere, I was just following the creek and seeing where it leads. Guess the time got away from me.”

“I’m not a princess,” you grumble back at him.

He tilts his head, his smile lingering as he looks at you. “Just an expression, no need to be nasty.”

You scowl down at your master’s clothes, and then plunge them into the water like they personally offended you. “Following the creek from where?” He points his thumb over his shoulder, towards the trees. “You came from the woods?”

“Thereabouts.”

You squint up at him. “What’s your name?”

“Eddie Munson, at your service.” He bows dramatically and takes another step towards you. “And may I ask who you are? Or shall I just call you ‘My Lovely Lady of the Creek,’ for time immemorial?”

You tell him your name flatly, and turn your face away as he gets closer, suddenly very invested in getting sweat stains out of your Master’s linen blouse using a cake of lye soap. “You should know not to go into those woods alone. There’s wolves.”

“Oh, I think I can handle myself in the woods, sweetheart.” Eddie smirks down at you. “Anyways, who wants to be in the trees on a day like this?”

You grunt. You don’t think the man will be going away anytime soon, which is bad news for you, because the closer he gets, the more inclined you are to look at him. Then, you’re more inclined to talk, and you’ve already been punished once today. You don’t think you could handle another.

The man, Eddie, sits himself down on a large rock jutting out of the water next to you. He watches you for a moment, scrubbing with one hand at the cloth on the board in the water, and then he points down at your arm. His billowing sleeve flashes red in your peripheral vision, along with the silver of the rings on his hand.

“What happened here?” he asks softly, his voice losing its humorous tone.

You look down at the welted skin. It stings, but the cold water numbs the pain just a bit. Now that he’s brought your attention back to it, your eyes prick with tears again, and you sniff. “My Mistress caught me outdoors in my chemise.”

“She should count herself lucky. It’s a sight to behold.”

“What?” You blink up at him. From this angle, him looming over you on a boulder, the sun rings his head in gold like a halo. “How would you know?”

“I’m… supposing.” Eddie bites his lip, staring off to the side for a moment, as if suddenly at a loss for the right words to say. “You’re a very… beautiful girl. I can only imagine.”

“That’s forward of you.”

“Besides, it doesn’t answer my question,” he rushes out. He scowls back down at your arm. “What did that to you?”

You heave a sigh. “Well, the Mistress told my Master. And the Master is very heavy handed with a cane.” A small sob constricts your throat for a moment, tears pricking your eyes again so badly that you have to stop working and close them. Your sinuses burn from the effort of holding it in.

“You were beaten because you went outside without a petticoat?” Eddie remarks incredulously, “That’s ridiculous.”

“Well, I… I was also late to start my chores,” you admit in a wobbly voice. “So I suppose I got off easier than most would…”

“It’s cruel. I’d love to see how he would take it, if the tables were turned.” Eddie’s dark eyes flash dangerously when you look up at him; there’s something in the set of his jaw and the steely expression on his face that makes you think of the growling wolf last night. After a moment, he softens towards you again. “Why were you late to your chores?”

“I…” you trail off. You think about telling him about the wolf, but you wonder if he’s the kind of person who will go into town and yell about the wolves trying to steal women in the night, and you could do without the embarrassment. “I had a nightmare. Slept too late.”

Eddie clicks his tongue and rocks backward a bit. “A nightmare,” he repeats, considering the word like it’s a part of life’s philosophy. “What about?”

You don’t respond for a few moments. You’ve moved on to washing a pillowcase now, which is significantly less soiled than your Master’s blouse. “Why do you care?”

“I care because I hate to see My Lovely Lady of the Creek in distress. Even if she is completely vexed by the sight of me,” He says lightly, as you tilt your head down to hide the way your cheeks burn. He reaches up his right hand and produces a silver coin from behind your ear. You stare at it in puzzlement as he hands it to you. “What was your nightmare about?”

You hesitate just a moment before taking the silver coin. “Is this bribery?”

“Absolutely,” Eddie announces with a wry smile. “For your thoughts.”

You sigh. You could use the coin, you’ll admit. Maybe you could buy yourself a new robe, or a loaf of bread from the baker, or any other of the myriad things you’re in want of.

You tuck the coin down the front of your bodice, where it slides down and gets stuck between your ribcage and your chemise. Eddie’s eyes follow the path that it takes between your breasts with a hungry glint in them.

“There was a wolf,” you tell him quietly, going back to your work. “It came to my door bleeding. I brought it inside and nursed it. But when I woke, there wasn’t a wolf. It was just a nightmare.”

“Oh,” Eddie hums amusedly. “I wouldn’t call that a nightmare. I’d rather call it a dream.”

“A dream?” you echo with a scoff.

“Yes. A lovely dream, with a heroine and a lonely beast in need of kindness.” He leans towards you, his hands on his knees. “But, you know what they say about wild things.”

You huff with indignance, but humor him, because you’re curious in spite of yourself. “I don’t know. What do they say?”

“You shouldn’t show them kindness,” he whispers, so close to your ear that you can feel his breath on your neck. “They’ll keep coming back for more.”

You startle, standing up with a noisy splash of water as you yank the last of the laundry from the creek. There’s a flush under your bodice that you don’t like, sticking to the coin that’s going hot against your skin as you think about it even being there. That it was produced by his hand. The more you think about it, the more you imagine it as an extension of his body, touching you just beneath your breast.

Eddie snickers to himself as you hurriedly, shakily, smack the last piece of laundry into the basket with the rest, and pick up the washboard from the water. With a frustrated huff, you stand and rest the basket of laundry on your hip. You gaze out across the creek, and then away towards the trees, and finally, when you’re sure you can form words, you turn back to him.

“Goodbye, Mr. Munson,” you say stiffly, so that you don’t trip over your own tongue. It comes out icily as a result, and you turn away to hide the way that you blush.

“Until we meet again.” Eddie presses his lips together, as though he’s stifling a laugh. Then he says, in a slightly bossy tone, “Take care of that arm for me, princess. Don’t want you getting any more beat up.”

You whirl around to ask him to repeat that– what the hell did you just say?– but when you do, the man is already gone. Along with any trace of his presence by the creekside.

Except, the coin he bought your dream with still grows warm against the heat of your skin, under your bodice.

#eddie munson x reader #werewolf eddie

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melodymunson · 7 hours

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Blanket hoarder

summary: Reader's annoyed musings over Eddie hoarding the blankets when they sleep together. cw: established relationship, gender neutral reader, shenanigans of living together, pure fluff with a light side of angst because reader gets annoyed at Eddie. words: 1.6K (this was supposed to be a blurb lol)

A sneaky slip of fabric.

Your teeth start to clatter. Consciousness returns as your body starts shivering, groaning against the pillow.

Not again!

“Stop hoarding the goddamn blankets!” you growl as you yank back the blanket back to your body, not even caring if you wake Eddie.

You roll back to your side angrily – cursing as the alarm starts ringing just when you have gotten warm again, not even a second after – Jesus christ!

Now you have to drag your legs out one by one into the freezing bathroom, loathing to get ready for the long workday ahead when there’s that lingering chill in your body from the lack of proper cover in your sleep.

You bitterly glare at Eddie’s body from the reflection in the mirror as you brush your teeth, looking like a snuggle bug all warm and cozy – lowkey envious he gets to sleep in just for a little longer before having to leave for work.

You finish cleaning yourself up and come to watch him from the door, his snug form dimly lit by the faint glow emanating from the bathroom. You can’t help but chuckle internally.

Fucking Eddie.

You used to sleep so peacefully with him in the beginning. He would envelop you in his arms, with your nose pressed up into his neck, arms clinging to him as if you would float away like a balloon in the night sky of your dreams if you didn’t. Or he’d spoon you from behind, and the soft puffs of his breath against your skin would calm you, like the constant flame of a campfire right at home inside your heart.

Even when he sprawled on the bed like a starfish, you’d hook your leg around his hip, with your nose all nestled in the fuzzy heat from his armpit, regardless of the smell. It smelt like the finest cashmere to you anyway. That was just love.

When you finally moved in together, that remained for the first weeks until, little by little, change came as it naturally does when certain things become a habit.

That’s when you discovered that Eddie was the absolute worst blanket hoarder.

Instead of sleeping entangled through the night, your bodies would drift on their own accord to your respective corners of the bed, curling back to back – with just your butts touching, Eddie’s light snores echoing away from you, and your drool pooling on your pillow for once instead of his t-shirt.

But then, like clockwork, you’d wake around three AM, wondering why the hell you were shivering when you slept with four blankets atop you. You’d turn, and through the heavy curtains of your sleepy eyes, you’d see your boyfriend all bundled up like a burrito, with his curls barely distinguishable underneath all that fluff.

You’d snuggle up to his back, moaning as you slid inside the blankets and spooned him, quickly falling asleep again to the soothing rise and fall of his breathing as you pressed your cheek between his shoulder blades.

It didn’t bother you that much, how could it? When Eddie’s mind – that raced with worries and wonder alike – could finally be at peace when he curled up like that? In the bed that belonged to the both of you no less. Not his own over at Wayne’s, or the one at your parent’s house, but yours. Where your scent and his own had already fused into one heavenly aroma, where the cheap mattress had already begun to dip with the shape of your bodies. You couldn’t even be mad when he stole the blankets during the winter, giving you endless runny noses the following days.

Not even when you’d find him sleeping on his stomach, waking at the exact second of him kicking back the blankets to the edge of the bed with his foot. You’d grumble but pull back the covers every single time, tucking him in again – sometimes giving him a little just because you could. Just to feel the silky warmness of his cheek, alive and safe with you.

But…there were nights when you just couldn’t have it. After long, stressful days at work that had your head feeling like the pressurized cabin of an airplane, feeling the knots in your neck as hard as concrete, you would just long to sleep through the night before enduring it all over again the next day.

One night, the blanket hoarding happened three times.

Three. Fucking. Times. Waking up freezing because Eddie kept pulling the blanket to his side.

“Fuck’s sake, Eddie!” You had groaned, making sure he heard as you yanked them back to you.

Your heart balled up into a fist when you felt him sit up in bed and put a tentative hand on your back but you flinched and scoffed with annoyance.

He slept facing away from you then, not even touching his butt to yours. You had felt like the worst person alive, but you’d just been at your limit and snapped. So guilty for being harsh that you hadn’t even been able to fall back asleep in the end. The morning after had been a little awkward, with the two of you walking on eggshells as Eddie cooked breakfast – his own little way of apologizing.

He needn’t at all. Hoarding blankets in his sleep wasn’t something he could control, you knew that. He was only human. Flawed and filled with quirks that made him who he was. You loved him for it, loved him with everything you had – despite it annoying you sometimes, despite your silly pet peeves.

But that was the thing. Love was about learning to live with Eddie and the package he came with – appreciating his humanity, in all its flawed perfection. Eddie never complains when you hoard the hot water in the shower or get a little grumpy when things don’t go your way on the first try. Not when you scrunch your nose if he cooks a meal using a certain ingredient you don’t like that he's pushing you to try, not when you occupy more space in your shared closet.

You’re human too.

That’s why you can’t help but break sometimes without meaning to. And last night had been one of those times. The blanket hoarding just got to you again because you hadn’t slept a wink the previous night, longing to make up for it as soon as you got home, but no.

Now, as you watch him from the bathroom door, you feel your heart slumping within your chest once again, just as he stits up. The dim light casts long shadows beneath his eyelashes that make his gaze appear sadder.

“Hey…” he mumbles, voice still deep and groggy with sleep as he weakly pats the mattress. “Babe, I’m so sorry…I don’t even realize –”

“ – No, no, I know, baby, I know.” You rub your hands on your face trying not to cry with frustration – not with Eddie but with yourself. “I was just exhausted. I’m sorry.”

“I know. C’mere…” He pats the mattress again, with a tender smile as he pulls back the blankets and lays on his back with his arms outstretched to you. He pulls you in like a magnet, without any protest as you fall into his arms and he envelops you whole.

Sighing contently, the stress leaves your body so fast that you wonder what kind of magic lies in Eddie's arms. His presence surrounding you makes you forget why you were even stressed in the first place. His chest is so cozy. His heartbeat underneath your ear is a gentle reminder of that imperfect humanity, as the beats switch from rapid to a steady lull once he’s certain you’re not mad anymore. You kiss that heartbeat, lingering for a moment to inhale that sleepy musk of his that’s become the scent of home.

“I’m gonna be late for work…” you mumble against him after what seems like hours, feeling your heavy-lidded eyes aching to close.

“Call in sick…” his voice is soft and muffled against the crown of your head while he caresses the nape of your neck.

“Can’t. Already did last week, remember?”

He grumbles, but you can feel that teasing smile of his curling against your forehead, just as he pulls up the covers further up your shoulders, luring you away from the call of another stressful workday, and into the indulgent leisure that lies with him.

“Then call and tell them you had a flat tire or some shit. Come on…sleep in just a little bit. Or, tell ‘em I’m sick and you have to take care of me – I’ll take the blame for ya. Only fair.”

You raise your head to look at him, caressing his cheek with the back of your knuckles as you shake your head fondly.

Fucking Eddie.

How can you resist him, when his dimples look even cuter when there’s mischief hiding behind them? Just one look at those big doe eyes and you don’t need any more persuading. He'd get you to pull down the moon by a mere flutter of his perfect eyelashes.

Your head falls back into his chest and he tightens his embrace around you. “Come on, sweetheart… I’ll hold you the entire time.”

You don’t even register what he says for your drowsy eyes are already falling shut, blanketed by the soft caress of Eddie's plush lips against your eyelids. Faintly you can hear Eddie’s light snores, and feel a little puddle of drool forming on his t-shirt where you rest your face as your breathing deepens.

Maybe this is why he hoards all the blankets, you muse unconsciously as you drift to sleep. He steals all their warmth for moments like this when it's his arms that wrap you up and keep you safe.

tag list: @arcielee

#eddie munson x reader

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