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bellaramseysgf · 2 years

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I’m your God (E.M)

Warning(s); Innocent/crybaby! Reader,finger sucking,training,fingering,hand kink,choking kink,religious kink,daddy kink, casual dominance, mean!dom Eddie.

Pairing(s); Eddie Munson x girlfriend! Reader.

Summary; How can you believe in God when Eddie Munson exists.

A/n;…..just…. @toomanybandstocare thank me later.

Eddie Munson. He was your boyfriend. God.

You and Eddie met close to 4 months ago after his uncle drug him into your dads church. Wayne had found out about his little “deals” and wanted him to apologize to “god” even though Eddie didn’t believe in shit.

You were stood at the front in you little pink Sunday dress, your hair curled just like your father liked. You kept your makeup down to a minuscule amount because it was something your father never liked on “young girls” you were 19. You weren’t a child. “Thank you for your help darling” your father smiled and ran his fingers through your hair.

The church doors swung open and in walked a very angry Wayne and a boy he was dragging by the collar of his jacket. “Wayne!” Your dad clapped his hands “what has you here so early?” You stared at the boy. You remember him, where from? “Eddie?” You asked and the boys eyes snapped to yours. What in gods name was Eddie “The freak” Munson doing inside a church.

“You know him?” Your father asked and you shook your head “just went to the same school.” Your father furrowed his brows “isn’t he like 21?” “20.” Eddie corrected and huffed fixing his jacket dusting it off. “You’re still in high school? Are you dumb?” You gasped “dad! Don’t say that!” Your father rolled his eyes.

“Well?” Wayne prompted and Eddie scoffed “you’re serious? I don’t even believe in this shit and you want me to apologize? For what? That money is what has kept us floating. Fuck you.” Eddie huffed out “that’s quite enough!” Your father yelled, voice booming through the church. “Do it or you won’t be coming back into my trailer.” Eddie looked at his uncle who was actually dead-pan serious.

With a roll of his eyes Eddie reluctantly dropped to his knees in front of the alter, just so happened that was in front of you. He lifted his eyes up to yours that were locked in on his Eddie smiled up at you almost like a devil. It made your blood pump faster,your cheeks flush and it had you pressing your thighs together. You couldn’t take you eyes off the man knelt before you. “Forgive me father, for I have sinned. I’m sorry to disgrace your name and will.” He huffed and looked back at his uncle prying his eyes from your.

You sucked in a breath you didn’t realize you were holding at that moment. “Good enough?” Eddie stood back up, and that was how everything else started. The late nights with him,sneaking out to meet him at the lake,him willingly coming to church just so he could see your pretty face.

You know your dad doesn’t like him but you don’t wanna date some perfect,church going boy. You want eddie. Eddie’s yours and you’re his.

“Cmon, pumpkin. You gotta get out of this phase. Why don’t you date that carver boy? He’s nice” you scoff “nice? He Bully’s half of Hawkins high.” Your dad sighs “he doesn’t even believe in God. How’s he gonna be a good man? Father? Huh?” You glared at your father “why do you get to assume that I want that? I don’t want kids dad.” He rolled his eyes “just, go. If you refuse to listen I’m not going to waist my breath on something useless.” You sniffled.

Useless? Surely you aren’t. You always help…you aren’t useless.

You sniffled wiping at your wet eyes hiccuping when you walked right into someone. “Hey- whoa, y/n? Are you okay?” You looked up with blurry eyes at Gareth, one of Eddie’s closet friends. You shook your head and he wrapped a arm around your shoulders. “Cmon, Eddie’s down here at the café” you nodded and allowed him to lead you away.

You stepped inside the small building, it smelled of sugar and coffee. The second Eddie saw you he was standing up and you were running over. “Honey? Baby, what happened. Why’re we crying?” You clung to his chest crying into his shirt. Eddie crouched down his hands coming to rub away tears “princess, cmon talk to me. What happened?” You just shook your head and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Just want daddy” Eddie lifts you up and let’s you cling to his chest until you fall asleep.

Eddie was so fed up with your father the amount of times eddie had comforted you after your dad made you cry was uncountable. Eddie didn’t mind it though, found it so sweet how you’d cling to him while whining that you ‘just wanted daddy’ made his pride feel good.

Eddie had you splayed out on his couch inside his trailer his fingers prodding the back of your throat. You’d learned though, you swallowed around his fingers to keep from gagging. “Ah, good girl, learning so fast.” You hummed dreamily around his fingers, this always calmed you down Eddie found out. He knew it was a oral fixation but you didn’t need to know that.

He was able to train you while giving you exactly what you needed. Pulled his fingers from your mouth with a pop. You whined loudly “I still want them, daddy.” Eddie smiled “I know but I think that they’d be better touching somewhere else don’t you?” Your cheeks turned pink as you nodded. “Yes, daddy want that” always so honest, just the most obedient, clueless pet.

It wasn’t the first time Eddie fingered you and it wouldn’t be the last, you loved Eddie’s cock being inside you more then anything else. “Gonna get daddy’s cock?” Eddie shook his head “mmm, not tonight babydoll.” You pouted but didn’t argue with him because you knew better. Eddie slipped his hand under your skirt and slid your panties over sinking his spit covered fingers inside with ease.

“Oh god!” You moaned out and Eddie smiled “that’s it, good girl” he praised his open hand pressing down on your stomach. Eddie started to move his fingers and your brain immediately shut down. All you could do was just moan out “oh my god” again and again. “You know, it’s not god making you feel good it’s me. Is that what I am to you baby? A god? You gonna worship me? Beg me for forgiveness when you do wrong?” You nod desperately as Eddie’s fingers work you towards a brain melting release.

“Then you should know this is a sin sweetheart, having sex before marriage is a bad thing. You’re a bad little girl. Worst in the bunch” you felt warm tears pricking your eyes “am I really b-bad daddy?” He nods a small pout forming on his lips. “Mhm, you are baby, you know you should beg me to let you cum. That’s the only way to make it better. You gotta say ‘please daddy let me cum’ you can do that.” You nodded.

“Please….please daddy let me….me cum” you whined your hips bucking to meet his knuckles as he fucked you with his fingers. “But I can’t let you cum baby. I’m a god and that’s just sinful. You should apologize” you whimpered. It was hard enough to get that out why’s he being mean.

You blinked up at him, your doe eyes entrapping his own puppy brown eyes. “Forgive me…oh god…..f-forgive me my…my god for I have sinned…ta…take away the bad things I’ve done.” You babbled it, most of it incoherent you were going dumb. “Daddy? I can cum now right? It’s better? did good!” You were crying now wanting it. Craving it. Needing your release.

“That’s a good girl, mhm you can cum baby go ahead. Covers daddy’s fingers like the good cumslut you are sweet princess.” You do too, your body clamped down on his fingers as overwhelming pleasure racked your body.

Eddie knew just how to take care of his pretty babygirl and he was always going to.

You sat on Eddie’s lap licking at the cone of cream he’d bought you. He gently tugged your chin away from the sweet treat “easy, don’t give yourself a brain freeze baby.” You nodded and ate slower to Eddie’s approval. “Thank you bug” he pecked your cheek and you smiled widely.

You were sat at a big table with his friends, you had your favorites them starting with Gareth and ending with a very cute Robin. You held the half eaten cone out to Eddie and he chuckled “you done? Poor baby, S’Too much huh?” You nodded and Eddie smiled beginning to eat what you couldn’t. You’d lick drips off his lips or cheeks every few minutes and he’d let you his hold on you never wavering. “What time is it?” You asked and Steve checked his watch “it’s going on 8pm” you groaned “my curfew”

“Don’t worry baby I’m sure your dad will be fine if you’re a few minutes late” you nodded “he won’t care that it’s me that’s late.” Eddie rolled his eyes “hey, look at me” Eddie hooks his finger under your chin “I don’t give two fucks about what that ugly old man has to say about me alright?” You nodded and giggled. “He’s not that old….he’s only 58” Eddie chuckled “yeah, that’s old peach” you giggled and laid into his hold on you.

“You’ll always be here, right daddy?” He nodded “of course babydoll! Can’t leave my little girl alone.” You smiled and kissed his cheek. “Who else will you beg for forgiveness when you’ve sinned, hmm?” Your cheeks went red and you hid your face in his neck as he chuckled.

#eddie munson #fem reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #tw; religious kink #dom!eddie #daddy!eddie #tw; daddy kink

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thornsnvultures · 6 months

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blessing

demon!eddie munson x nun!reader

summary: your personal demon needs to be taught a lesson for interrupting your nightly prayers again.

cw: 18+ nsft, smut, general sacrilege, liberties taken with catholic/religious practices, masturbation (reader), bondage (eddie in chains), degradation, sub!eddie, & squirting (if there's anything I missed lmk) <800 words

"What do you think will happen, demon? Will fucking me bring you salvation? Is that what you're hoping for?"

The demon you've captured writhes under you in your bed. He's already been weakened, his powers subdued by being on hallowed ground. He doesn't have the strength to overpower you, nor the magics to play tricks on your mind.

It didn't mean you were immune to his... other charms. His teasing touches, whispers in your ear, late night meetings in your quarters.

He shouldn't be here, you should be on your knees in prayer. Instead your knees bracket his slim hips, your habit bunched up around your thighs. You were sworn to a life of celibacy, a life long marriage to God and no one else. But you found no wrongs in pleasuring yourself.

"This is what you want, yes?" You lift your habit further, exposing the patch of hair at the junction of your spread thighs. The demon below you groans, tugging at his restraints at the head of your bed. "Do you think you can tempt me so easily, demon? This is a holy place," your fingers dip into your heat, spreading your folds open, drawing back the curtain for him to see your most sacred place. "This is no place for the likes of you. With your foul words, trying to lead me to temptation," you scoff.

You lean back on one hand, the other making quick circles around your clit. Your head falls back and you let yourself feel it, feel the powerful blessing of pleasure ratcheting up between your thighs. The demon under your thrashed and begged, pleaded for a touch, a taste.

"You're a tease, a whore," he spits venom but his eyes tell a different story, so full of awe, wonder... hunger.

"When I touch myself I honor him. He made me in his image, in his glory. I was made to cherish my body, to carry myself to ecstasy until I saw his light, his face," your words came in gasping, shuddering breaths. You could feel yourself inching closer to the edge. His election below you as well, the way it nudged and searched and longed to enter you, to plow its way past your holy gates, to fill you with its sulfurous seed. He could yearn for your blessing all he wanted, but a doomed soul would not be allowed entry, no matter how he pleaded.

"Your cunt is too pretty to not be filled, o' holy one," the demon smirked even as he gasped, watching your fingers get sloppier, sticky in your juices.

"Then I shall fill it," you slide two fingers in and instantly your pleasure ratchets higher. "And I shall coax out his blessing until you are awash with it."

The demon's curly head lifts, like he's trying to get a closer look at the way your hole flutters around your fingers. Your groans turn to shouts of leg shaking pleasure and you can see it, golden sparks at the edge of your vision. You reach your peak then, pulling your fingers free from your spasming clutch and with them releasing a torrent of your holy waters.

The demon shouts, his deep red skin sizzling as your fingers continue to work at your nub, splashing his chest with the spray of your ecstasy, the essence of your God. His blessing pouring through you and scarring the beast below you.

He roars, bucking under you and you can feel his release splash against your back, a sizzling heat that shoots all the way up to the back of your head coverings.

"Such a bad boy, making a mess," you slip your habit up over your head, dropping it on the floor to be washed later. The demon takes in your naked form, his fingers curling, claws digging into his palms until they bleed.

"It's time to send you back, Edward," you caress his cheek, his protruding horns, down to the mess you left on his chest. He's already healing, his eternal form bouncing back so he can live another eternity in hell.

"Let me stay, let me have you," he begs, rattling his chains.

You press a kiss to his forehead, your bare breasts hanging achingly close to his hungry mouth. But you pull away before he can latch on and taste your flesh for himself.

"You have to go back, Edward. I can't fuck your spirit whole."

The demon growls and before you can anger him further you close your eyes and will him away. His rattling chains fall silent and you know he's gone.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #demon!eddie x nun!reader #demon!eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson one shot #tw religion #tw religious themes #my fics

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yaspillz · 27 days

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Scotty doesn’t know

Scotty doesn’t know that Fiona and me do it in my van every Sunday. She tells him she’s in church but she doesn’t go still she’s on her knees and scotty doesn’t know.

Warnings for entire series - cussing, religious references, blasphemy, needles, blood, sexual themes, smutty smut smut, knife play, referring to self as god. cheating , smoking and drinking.

this is a prologue/teaser to a longer series <3 make sure to let me know if you want added to a tag list.

At 2:19am all that can be heard in the Dunham household is the small pitter patter of the eldest child Fiona making her way back inside after her rendezvous with town metalhead Eddie Munson. If you wait and listen close enough you can even hear her settle down next to her bed and repeat hail marys over and over before settling into bed.

“Hail mary, full of grace,

the lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou amongst women

and blessed is the fruit

of thy womb, Jesus

Holy mary, mother of god,

pray for us sinners now,

and at the hour of our death.

Amen.”

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson smut #stranger things smut #eddie stranger things #religious trauma #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things au #eddie munson x preachers daughter #eddie munson x innocent gf #eddie #munson #eddie munson x cheating gf #croquette #sunday #scotty doesn’t know

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wontontrap · 3 months

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sitting here working on eddie x religious virgin!reader pt ii and trying to tie in more subtle religious imagery and quotes and can't stop thinking about nicki minaj being like "SERPENT, THOU ART LOOSE" and I'm fighting for my life about it

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie x religious virgin!reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader

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rip-quizilla · 11 months

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Monsters & Miracles

Chapter 1: This Story's Still Going

Pairing: Kas!Eddie Munson / Wendy Robinson (Art Teacher!Original Character)

Summary: Twenty years ago, Eddie Munson was supposed to die. Instead, he became something else- something dark, with a purpose he did not know but feared nonetheless. Now, two decades after his rebirth as a monster, he can't believe his eyes. He had expected his own reflection when he'd looked in the grimy, vine-covered mirror, but instead there's an angel staring back at him. ~ Wendy Robinson has gotten very good at distracting herself. When she thinks about her father's passing, she drowns out the thoughts with music. When she can't describe her feelings with words, she paints them to life on a canvas. But lights flickering and exploding in her apartment? A voice she's never heard before screaming inside her head? Looking into her bathroom mirror and seeing a man bathed in dark blue light, with horns and claws and sharpened teeth?

She's not sure she can distract herself from that.

Word Count: 7.1k

Tags (from AO3): Eddie Munson as Kas the Betrayer (Dungeons & Dragons) ×Eddie Munson Lives ×Eddie Munson in the Upside Down ×Alternate Universe - Future ×Older Eddie Munson ×Reader-Insert ×Original Character(s) ×Older Steve Harrington ×Stranger Things 2006 ×Art teacher! reader ×Kas! Eddie Munson ×Married Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler ×Religious Imagery & Symbolism ×Catholic! Eddie Munson ×Coach! Steve Harrington ×Hawkins High School (Stranger Things) ×Hawkins (Stranger Things) ×Slow Burn ×Fluff and Angst ×Mild Smut ×Eventual Smut ×

Chapter 1: This Story's Still Going

~2006~ The Upside Down

Twenty years ago, Eddie Munson was supposed to die.

Twenty years ago, he had bravely battled in the Upside Down and sacrificed himself for the sake of a town that had never wanted him, never trusted him, never saw the good in him that had always been undeniably there.

Twenty years ago, Eddie Munson chose not to run away. It had cost him his life.

After that, things were different. For a while, he’d wondered if he had died that day. If the holes in his side and the blood that had stained the white of his shirt to rust brown were just a part of his own personal Hell. Perhaps they symbolized some transgression from the life he’d led, one demobat bite for each sin, each commandment broken.

Thou shalt have no other gods before Me.

Music was his God. When his mother had died, Jesus hadn’t offered any comfort. Music did.

Honor thy father and mother.

Eddie’s father had never honored him, so Eddie had paid that back in kind. His mother? No doubt she was rolling in her grave up in Hawkins. Eddie had ended up a drug dealer who never graduated high school… what mother took pride in that?

Thou shalt not kill.

Eddie wasn’t a killer. The entire town of Hawkins had believed he was, but Eddie was sure of one thing- he did not kill Chrissy Cunningham. The guy who did kill her was no longer human, but something else.

Just like Eddie.

He had been human before, but after twenty years in the Upside Down, Eddie had changed. Adapted. He’d done what he’d needed to in order to survive.

The lethal venom in the demobats’ fangs had slowed his heart rate substantially, giving the foreign substance time to travel through his veins. It wrapped itself around him, enveloping everything he had been and turning his present into his past. With every strand of DNA it found, the venom painted itself into Eddie’s very chemistry. While Eddie had lay unconscious on the vine-covered ground, he could not feel his bones snap, making way for new growth. Could not feel the way his skin knitted itself back together over his rib cage, growing back thicker and leathery to the touch. Did not notice the way his canine teeth had sharpened into points, nor his nails that turned to claws, nor the way that his shoulder blades had begun to jut out as if new growth wished to burst through his skin like the buds of a springtime bloom. A strange metaphor; nothing new grows here- only things reborn.

When he had awoken, he had been afraid. He was afraid for a long time, alone for a long time. And then, one day, he wasn’t afraid anymore. He wasn’t alone- nothing in this place was alone, for everything here was connected.

And that meant that it had only been a matter of time before something found him.

For a while, that connection between himself and…them… was all that drove him. He did not resist because he did not think there was a choice in the matter. This new body was sharp, rough, and powerful, and Eddie did not know what to do with it on his own. It was easier to just comply, to let himself become a drone.

He mostly followed the bats.

It was funny; poetic, even. He joined a flock of the very creatures that had destroyed the Eddie he once was. He was basically one of them, flying around on the leathery wings that had finally grown long enough to carry his weight, keeping watch over this dusty version of an empty Hawkins. At first, it had been painful to gaze down at the ghost of what had once been his home, taunted by this mimicry of the thing he wanted most but can never return to. Eventually, he grew numb to it. He forced down the memories like they were bile and continued to follow orders.

Until Vecna decided the time had come to exact his revenge.

He had been too weak the first time. The day Eddie had his brush with death, Vecna had come even closer. All of this time, he had been getting stronger, forming a new plan for how to overcome Eleven and reopen a gate from his domain into hers.

Eddie knew this- all of the Upside Down knew this. The phrase ‘hive-mind’ echoed in his memory, and it awakened a need to protect, a need to fight- but it wasn’t Vecna that he wanted to protect.

It seems his final act of heroism had instilled something in him. A sense of right and wrong that he would not violate, a sense of camaraderie with the people of Hawkins that he could not shake no matter how hard he tried. Alongside this sense of right and wrong, another core belief sat nestled into the very center of Eddie’s psyche- that nonconformist rebellion, fighting against Eddie’s new instinct to obey.

And so, Eddie began to wage war against his reborn self. Follow orders? Nah, not Eddie. No way. Take your forced conformity and shove it up your ass.

Bit by bit, he defied orders in the slightest ways. As long as Eddie’s defiance was insignificant enough, Vecna didn’t seem to notice. So he peeled himself away, connected but separate, always listening for Vecna’s plan so that he could protect the town he was willing to die twice for.

This is where our story begins- twenty years after Eddie became a monster, cursed to live inside an echo of his past life. Here, in the dusty, vine-covered copy of his trailer, Eddie sat in a room that looked like his, at the edge of a bed identical to his own, head hung low and eyes wide with disbelief.

Because for the first time in twenty years, he could hear music. And he’s sure he’s crazy, because even though it’s faint, he would recognize that guitar riff anywhere.

The Trooper. Iron Maiden. 1983.

You’re losing it again, he thought to himself, this is a hallucination. Your memory is teasing you.

Eddie’s mind didn’t even belong to him anymore. He should’ve known that any semblance of sanity would be fleeting.

He didn’t care, though. Even if this wasn’t real, he could not deny himself this small joy- sitting in a room that was the closest thing to his own, listening to this song that made him feel like a kid again. He did not want to question this little, unexpected blessing. Eddie closed his eyes, ears straining to hear every note. His head moved up and down ever so slightly to the beat, fingers twitching on his knees like they ached to move along the frets of his old guitar. He even started to hum. His vocal cords felt scratchy, clawing the sound as it creeped tentatively from his throat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually spoken, much less sung.

When the song had finished, Eddie held his breath. He didn’t know if his tortured mind would bless him with another gift from the depths of his memory, but he hoped.

When he heard another song start to play, he smiled. It was tiny, just a sliver of a grin, but it counted. Eddie couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled.

This continued for over an hour before the music stopped. Some of the songs he’d known, some unfamiliar- but he loved each one all the same. When it became clear to him that his small little joy had ended, he fought the urge to yell, to scream at whatever strange god had decided to tease him, but he did not. He couldn’t explain why, but he had a gut feeling that if he made a sound, did anything to notify the ones who control that something different- something good- had managed to squeeze itself into this godforsaken place, they would snuff it out.

So instead of screaming, Eddie scooted further onto the bed that felt like his. He shifted his wings to take up as little room as possible, doing his best to curl into a ball underneath the sheets. He didn’t know why he had expected it to be warm in this bed; it wasn’t. He pretended it was anyway.

This is where Eddie Munson fell asleep, nestled into a bed that wasn’t really his in a home that wasn’t really home, letting his tears soak into a cold pillow. He prayed to a God he didn’t really believe in, begging to hear just one more note, one more chord, something, anything to help him feel like a boy again instead of a monster.

~2006~ Hawkins, Indiana Christmas Day

This was the first Christmas that Wendy Robinson had ever spent alone, and so far it was not feeling very holly or jolly.

She’d tried her best to forget about it the night before, pretending it was just a normal night. Turning on the radio wasn’t an option, or else she would be pelted with holiday songs on every channel, so instead she’d listened to her old CDs to pass the time. Joy Division, Iron Maiden, Nirvana, Nine Inch Nails- she’d torn her way through them while busying herself with her art- paints, brushes and color-stained paper towels strewn across the giant tarp that encompassed the living space in her apartment. A year ago, Wendy might have put up decorations- a tree in the corner, a wreath on the door, maybe even gingerbread cookies on cooling racks in the kitchen.

But she was alone this year, and Christmas just didn’t feel right alone.

So she was determined to treat today like any other day, and that meant holing herself up in her apartment like it was a cave and ignoring the rest of the world, because if she were to walk through that front door, Wendy knew that she would see snow outside, and it would all be downhill from there.

Instead, she stared at her face in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. She splashed some water on her face. She fixed herself a glass of water. She did everything that made days normal, including blaring her music loud enough to inflict hearing damage.

Today Wendy chose a CD she’d burned herself- a compilation of rock songs she’d grown attached to over the years. As the familiar opening beats of “1979” by The Smashing Pumpkins started to play, she began stripping out of her pajamas and donning a comfortably baggy pair of paint-streaked denim jeans along with an old white sleeveless tee- also covered in old cracked paint splatters and streaks. Then, sitting cross-legged on the floor, she began her work.

The canvas before her contained the bones of… something. Wendy wasn’t quite sure what this piece would become, but the feelings she had been pouring into it so far were, in a word, bleak. Her pieces were often darker in terms of mood and subtext, yes, but this… it was just straight up sad. A wash of grayish blue made up the murky background of the image, the colors growing deeper and more intense toward the bottom. The rest of the canvas was blank, save for a few marks that Wendy had lightly drawn with a pencil as the beginnings of a figure in the center. Now, however, Wendy grimaced as she stared at the picture before her.

It looked juvenile to her, placing the focus of the painting right smack dab in the center of the frame, too easy. Predictable. Nothing worked out that way in real life, right? Nothing that was real was ever predictable. If life were a predictable thing, hers wouldn’t have turned out the way that it had. She wouldn’t be in Hawkins. She wouldn’t be alone. She wouldn’t be fucking miserable on what used to be her favorite holiday. And her dad…

Nope.

Wendy closed her eyes, straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath. In…out…pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes as if she were trying to stop blood from flowing. She focused on the music; it didn’t heal the wound by any means, just staved off the overflow. It was a band aid- no, a tourniquet. One more breath, then she opened her reddening eyes. The gray-blue canvas stared back, and it offered no comfort- only an outlet.

That was fine.

Wendy squinted, as if letting the canvas blur between her closing eyelashes would help her diagnose the problem. Once she recognized what her roadblock was, she could remedy the issue easily. Wendy was good at fixing things once she understood them. She took the canvas gingerly in her hands, turning it this way and that, testing out different perspectives from which she could frame her piece, until she settled on turning the canvas from portrait to landscape, the darker blue now focused on the right growing to a lighter gray on the left.

This could work.

Wendy stared at the new orientation, letting the music wash over her as a vision began to manifest behind her eyes. The song had changed twice since she’d sat down, and an old favorite from her high school days was busy filling the silence.

“What became of the man that started

All are gone and their souls departed

Left me here in this place so all alone

Stranger in a strange land

Land of ice and snow”

The lyrics had always been evocative to her- painfully sad to the point of desperation, but Wendy had never felt them like this; today, for whatever reason, Wendy felt the weight of those words in her very core. She looked around at her little apartment- registered the gray-green walls, the drawings etched in charcoal and taped to spaces she’d deemed too empty, the plethora of empty mugs set on end tables and countertops that had been forgotten in the days since the holiday break had begun. Everything about it screamed “single-person household” Wendy had done what she could to make this place feel like home, but she wasn’t used to being the only person in a home… if this apartment was where she was always alone, could it ever really be a home?

Would she ever have a home again?

This time, she let the tears fall. Careful not to let any of them fall on the canvas, Wendy grabbed a wide brush and swirled it around in the water filled jar sitting to her side. For the rest of the song, she proceeded to cover the sketched lines of a figure that would never be with more gray and blue until the canvas was nothing but background. Once she was satisfied with this new foundation, Wendy placed her damp brushes on the towel and left them and the fresh paint to dry under her ceiling fan.

Her cheeks were damp, but she was grateful her crying hadn’t escalated into sobbing this time. That had become commonplace for her when she was alone, especially after she’d first moved to Hawkins in August, but lately the tears hadn’t been as frequent. A few would fall, then just as quickly as she’d begun to cry, they would cease. Like midsummer rain, the onslaught would only last a moment before the sunlight returned.

Wendy supposed that she had begun to master the art of grief.

She flicked the light switch of her bathroom on, but strangely she still stood in darkness. She tried again, eyebrows scrunching, confused when once again, nothing happened. Her eyes flicked to the mirror, and what she saw ripped a gasp from her throat.

Not her face; someone else’s. Wide, black eyes, framed by dark, prominent veins that tapered up and into hair, dark and wild. Horns, shining obsidian, curling to both sides like a ram’s. A mouth, dry and cracked, hanging open to reveal sharpened teeth. All of this was bathed in dark blue, as if night had fallen so hard, it buried the moon and the stars were struggling to provide sufficient light.

Wendy stumbled backward, hitting the open door behind her and stumbling to keep her balance without falling over. Her eyes left the mirror for a split second, and when she glanced back, she saw only her own face, horror evident in her expression as she blinked profusely. Had she imagined that? It- he- had looked so real… like she could reach up to touch the horns growing between mangled raven curls. And those eyes had been so surprised, it was almost as if he had been shocked to see her in the bathroom mirror.

Wendy stood still as stone, willing the mirror to prove she wasn’t crazy. After a few seconds, she shook her head violently, as if a hallucination were water stuck in her ear that she could shake out. She gave her cheeks a couple heavy pats, wiped the excess tears from her lower lash line, and made a beeline for her CD player. Maybe if she turned the volume even higher, she could chase what she’d just seen out of her mind.

~The Upside Down~ Eddie

Eddie’s claws bit into the brittle, corroded wood of the cabinet as he gripped the bathroom counter for dear life. His chest heaved, his mind raced, his eyes bugged out of their sockets when he thought about what he had just seen.

He’d looked into the murky bathroom mirror expecting to see a monster, and instead he’d seen a miracle.

He’d seen eyes that weren’t glazed over or pitch black. Skin that was smooth, unmarred by the cruelty that living in this place always inflicted on every breathing thing. He’d seen what looked like warmth, light that came from the sun instead of scarlet currents bolting across the electric sky. It had been so long since Eddie had felt warm… part of him had loved the feeling- it brought back a memory that he didn’t know was still there, a day spent on the beach with his toes wriggling in hot summer sand. The other part of him had recoiled; he hissed, he burned, he wanted to claw his way underground where it was cool and dark and the sun could never find him.

Eddie wanted that part of him gone. He turned back to the mirror, eyebrows drawn together with determination. He splayed his hands on either side of the glass, careful to avoid the vines that would alert the masses if he were to apply too much pressure, and braced himself against his reflection. He stared vehemently at the glass, willing it with all he had to show him another glimpse of whatever angelic thing he’d seen a moment ago.

Please, he thought, he prayed, he pleaded to whomever was listening on the other side.

Please show me again. Show me again, show me again, let me be somewhere that isn’t here again for one more goddamn second, please-

~Hawkins~ Wendy

Wendy’s paintbrush was alive. It danced across the canvas and had no need for guidelines drawn in lead because it knew the steps by heart. Bristles wet with pigment swept over paint barely dried with precision and purpose, and Wendy’s concentrated gaze was that of a woman on a mission.

She wasn’t sure where this desperate feeling had come from, but it was overwhelming. She felt like a magnet pulled to a destination that she couldn’t see, like it was pulling her with a force so great, it shook her to the core. This want, this yearning- she ached to be shown a glimpse of the thing she desired, and yet she had no idea what she craved. So, she’d turned to art- the only thing that knew her better than she knew herself, and showed her what she felt in a way that words simply could not express.

As her brushstrokes took shape, she could see now the potential in this piece- a figure was beginning to form, though not a full one this time, just a head, the barest part of a torso, a shoulder, an outstretched arm- all of it appeared to be reaching from the darkest blue toward the lightest side of the canvas. It symbolized what she felt perfectly, reaching, yearning for something, but whatever it was lay outside of the frame unseen.

Wendy’s focus was unwavering, her attention fixated on the story that came to life on her canvas. Her desperation grew, anxious yearning clawing its way through her like it wanted to leap from her chest and soak into the image that was becoming clearer and clearer with every stroke of her brush.

Please, please, please, please.

The plea tingled at the nape of her neck, a voice she thought was her own at first, until it grew. It called. It yelled.

Show me!

~The Upside Down~ Eddie

Eddie had forgotten he could bleed.

He’d been invincible for so long that it hadn’t occurred to him that punching the mirror would result in broken skin. He was strangely pleased to know that such a mortal thing like blood was still a part of his biology.

He had gotten angry at the mirror; it had teased him with a glimpse of something that was not of this hell, made him remember the world he’d been born into, then ripped it away in a second and refused to show him more. So he’d punched it. Now, he had a shattered mirror and a bleeding fist.

~Hawkins~ Wendy

“Ow!”

Wendy dropped her brush, the paint slapping a big splotch onto her jeans as she inspected the backs of her fingers. The sharp pain had surprised her, and she wasn’t sure how she’d hurt herself but she could not deny that the ache of broken skin was there, echoing in her hand for a split second before leaving completely. Her skin was fine, marred by nothing but dried smears of paint across her knuckles, but she was sure- she was sure -that she had felt a sharp pain slicing across her fingers.

Wendy stared at the back of her hand, her eyes wide with disbelief, searching for even the slightest red mark on her knuckles, when it happened again.

A flash of blue. A hand that wasn’t hers. Nails that sharpened into points like claws. Dark red blood that trickled over the torn leathery skin that stretched over knuckles much larger than her own. And then, a flash, and she was looking at her own hand again.

Frantically, Wendy’s eyes flitted around the apartment, searching for a sign that something else around her was amiss- that these hallucinations weren’t in her head and she wasn’t going crazy.

Finding nothing to assuage her anxiety, she decided to push it down and pretend that it didn’t exist- a reaction to feelings that was becoming quite common for her these days. She rose to her feet, quickly padding across the room to turn the volume knob on her CD player further to the right. Sure, it would probably bother the neighbors. Sure, she might ruin their home video of little Timmy opening his Christmas presents, but frankly she cared more about her sanity than little Timmy right now. Iron Maiden’s “Flash of the Blade” went from pleasantly loud to blaring, the electric 80’s metal rang out throughout her apartment, and she nodded her head to the beat with conviction, as if each lyric could talk her back into sanity if she tried hard enough.

~The Upside Down~ Eddie

Eddie was going insane.

It wasn’t the first time; he’d lost his mind several times at this point, in fact he was pretty sure that he’d lost that war long ago but here he was, once again raging against his own psyche.

First, he’d seen her face. Whose face, he couldn’t say, but then he’d seen a hand that definitely wasn’t his, so it must have been hers, right? And now, Iron Maiden again. He didn’t know what it all meant, but he had narrowed it down to two possible conclusions: either he had officially gone certifiably, undeniably crazy, or there was somebody on the other side that he was somehow- after all this time- able to see.

He didn’t have an explanation, and if he thought too hard about it he would probably start to believe the first option… but God did he want the second to be true.

He could hear the music even clearer this time than the first; he’d recognized it immediately the moment it had started playing. His fingers had even jumped upon hearing the opening guitar riff, itching at the memory of playing those very chords of his guitar. Eddie took a long, ragged breath as he slumped against the wall of the trailer and closed his eyes. His arms hung loosely at his sides, and he resigned into the melancholy comfort of a song he knew so well. Slowly but surely, he began to nod his head to the beat, finding comfort in the familiar voice warbling out among the sounds of electric guitar.

Then, mingling with the sounds he knew, he heard something else that nearly brought him to his knees.

~Hawkins~ Wendy

“-In a corner forgotten by no one

You lived for the touch

For the feel of the steel

One man and his honor”

Wendy belted out the lyrics loud enough to drown out the thoughts in her head. She closed her eyes, face contorting with conviction as she did everything she could to lose herself in the music.

She had gone from nodding to the beat to full on headbanging, stepping away from her emotional painting to fix herself something to eat. She was just hungry; that was the logical explanation. Once she ate a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats, everything would be okay. She would eat, she would drink her water, she would take a nap if she needed to- and everything would be fine.

As Wendy stood leaning against the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal and a spoon held in her hands, she stared at the flakes of grain floating in milk like they were capable of holding her back from the edge of insanity if she focused hard enough. The chorus of “Flash of the Blade” repeated over and over at the end of the song, a comfortable chant for her to pray into the aether. When the song ended, Wendy’s heart rate spiked in the following silence, fearful of losing her mind again without music to drown out the terror.

And then “Master of Puppets” started to play.

~The Upside Down~ Eddie

Eddie started to laugh.

He wasn’t losing his mind. There wasn’t an angel visiting him in this hell. He had been wrong on both accounts.

This was him.

He was teasing Eddie. Laughing at him from his hiding place, watching as Eddie started to believe that he had something to hope for before it all came crashing down as soon as it started.

This was the song that had landed him here, the soundtrack to his final bow out of his former life, the accompaniment to this whole fucking nightmare. That Vecna creep had great timing, Eddie had to give him that.

You got me, asshole. You got the last laugh, again. Well fuckin’ done.

His laughter was manic; hysterical. It grew louder and louder, and Eddie knew he looked insane, he probably looked downright feral, fangs bared and eyes wide as he laughed and laughed, as wet tears began to stream from his coal black eyes.

~Hawkins~ Wendy

Have you ever been alone in your apartment after hallucinating about a demonic looking creature, and then just when you think everything might be okay, you start to hear maniacal laughter in your head?

It’s fucking terrifying.

Wendy had been so shocked and horrified when the laughter rang through her skull that she’d dropped her bowl of cereal on the floor. It shattered, milk and golden flakes spilling everywhere among the shards of jagged ceramic pieces. Wendy, barefooted and scared out of her mind, had clumsily hopped over the mess while frantically searching the room, wide-eyed with fright.

“Who’s there?” she whispered, willing her voice to be louder.

No answer came, the laughter simply continued as Metallica wailed on.

Wendy stumbled through the apartment, grasping onto the kitchen table for dear life. “What is going on?!” She yelled. The laughter stopped.

The voice she heard in return had no face that she could see, but in her head it was clear as day. It was deep, gritty as if it hadn’t been used to speak in years.

“Stop this.”

Wendy’s heart was racing, shutting her eyes and latching onto the music to distract herself from whatever the hell was happening. Shaking her head vehemently, she muttered to herself. “Not happening. This isn’t happening. I’m going crazy.”

“I am not going crazy!”

The voice was like a growl this time, tearing its way through Wendy’s head, and she let out a little frustrated scream. Her breathing was getting heavier, she was practically panting. She worried her heart would leap from her chest, it was beating so fast. “I have voices in my head telling me I’m not crazy.” She felt insane. She let out a huff of humorless laughter, struggling to maintain a rational train of thought. “This is just great-”

“Get out of my head!”

The stereo stuttered, distorting the music as if the CD were scratched and skipping erratically. The few lights she’d turned on began to flicker, and one buzzed as it grew brighter and brighter. Wendy stared, wide-eyed at the bright white burn of the lightbulb, whispering a bemused “What-?”

“I said GET OUT!”

A high-pitched ringing sound pierced the air before the lightbulb burst into a shattering of glass across your floor. Wendy’s scream was shrill this time, and she scrambled back onto the top of the table, sending a leftover plate and mug over the edge and onto the floor. They shattered loudly, grabbing her frantic attention before her head whipped back to face the bulb in another lamp by her favorite reading chair. It burst like the first one had, glowing blindingly bright before shattering like a popped bubble. Wendy’s panting bordered on hyperventilation, and she brought her knees up to her chest, hugging her legs and shutting her eyes tightly as she did her best to curl into a ball atop her kitchen table.

“Shut up!” she sobbed. “Shut up! SHUT UP!”

“YOU shut up!” the voice spat back.

“The voices in my head have a sense of humor,” Wendy huffed between her sobs, exasperated. “Not funny!”

The voice didn’t respond immediately; all that filled the apartment for the next few moments was the hum of electricity flickering in and out of Wendy’s remaining light fixtures. When it did respond, it sounded slightly more… calm? Not that she would call any of this ‘calm’.

“...What’s going on here?”

Wendy could have been mistaken, but she was almost certain she had heard the voice take a breath… and she didn’t just hear it. She felt it. Upon hearing his exhale, she had felt the familiar sense of relief that one got from simply taking a deep breath, in and out. It was long and ragged, drawn out further than it needed to be.

“Are you real?”

Wendy swallowed, her eyes still shut . “...Are you?”

Her apartment was quiet now, even the buzzing electric white noise had disappeared.

“Jury’s still out on that one.”

Before Wendy could comment, the voice added, “Who are you?”

Wendy shook her head incredulously. Was she really about to have a conversation with a voice in her head? Is that how lonely and desperate she’d gotten? “I, ah…” she cleared her throat. “I’m Wendy Robinson.” She cringed internally at the fact that she’d just given the voice in her head her first and last name. Like she was filling out paperwork, or calling roll.

She heard the voice huff out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh but not quite. “Okay, Wendy Robinson,” She shivered at the way her name sounded through the filter of this deep, rust-covered voice. “Are you the girl I saw in the mirror?”

A chill rolled through Wendy at the memory- black, shining horns. Gleaming fangs. A thick mane of dark hair framing pitch black eyes. “Are you who I saw in the mirror?”

The silence was charged this time, because they both knew the answer had to be yes, but for some reason he didn’t want to say it. “Go check.” he replied after a few seconds had passed.

Wendy looked up and across the apartment to the bathroom door, still ajar from when she’d stumbled away from it earlier. “Go check, like… check the mirror?” Wendy looked down at the floor, which was littered with shards of broken glass and dishes. “I don’t have shoes on.”

This time, she heard the voice snort before replying wryly, “...What do shoes have to do with your mirror?”

She gestured to the ground, obviously frustrated. “My floor is covered in broken glass!”

“Why is there broken glass on your floor?”

“Because you made my lights explode!”

“I did n- oh shit, did I?”

“Yes!”

The voice was silent for a moment before Wendy heard a painfully soft “Sorry.”

Wendy took a deep breath, assessing the situation- both the one she could see, and the one she couldn’t. “Well if it was a mistake, then I forgive you.” It was not lost on her that she was forgiving the apology of a voice in her head that she was starting to wonder was a demonic possession or something. She would deal with that later. “Can you see what I see?”

“No. I, uh… I just hear you. In my head.”

Wendy used her foot to scoot one of the chairs surrounding the table as far past the broken glass as she could, continuing the conversation as she maneuvered herself from the table to the chair. “Okay, so we’re both in each other’s heads then? How does that work?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, kid.”

Wendy laughed, actually smiling this time as she hopped from the chair onto a patch of the floor where she was pretty sure no glass had landed. “Kid? It’s been a while since I was a kid, I’m thirty-five.”

“You are?”

“Yup.”

“Damn.”

Wendy scoffed, carefully tiptoeing her way around the floor as she made her way to the bathroom. “Wow, okay, how old are you, then?”

“I, uh…um, I’m not sure, actually. What year is it?”

Raising an eyebrow, Wendy stepped into the bathroom. “2006.” She left the light off; she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t scared to try looking in the mirror and see something that wasn’t her reflection. She was already testing the boundaries of her fragile sanity at this point.

“Two… two thousand… what?” The voice was soft and sad, like she had just told him that his dog had died. Wendy felt a pang of guilt for being the bearer of what was apparently bad news.

“How, uh… how old does that make you?” she asked softly, trying to lighten his mood back up.

He was quiet for a bit before answering, “Has April 15th passed?”

“Mhm.”

“I guess I’m forty, then.”

He sounded so dejected, defeated by something as basic as his age. Maybe he was a ghost? Perhaps this was the soul of someone who had died too young, and they still had no idea that they were dead. She knew the apartment complex had been built on some old abandoned trailer park, and that apparently some sort of dark shit had gone down there years ago. It had been the first thing her students at the high school had told her when she’d mentioned she lived there. Had this guy been involved in that?

“Are you in front of the mirror yet?”

His voice brought her out of her train of thought, back to reality- or whatever this was. “Yeah,” Wendy replied, looking into her reflection in the bathroom mirror. “How do I… see you, I guess?”

“I’m not sure, it’s not like I meant to make it happen the first time.” he said, “Maybe if we both focus really hard on seeing the other, it’ll work again?”

Wendy didn’t have a better plan. “Okay. I’m going to close my eyes, focus, and on the count of three we both look at the mirror.”

“Worth a try.”

Bracing herself against the vanity, Wendy closed her eyes and thought back to the image she’d seen in the mirror before. “Alright, are you ready?”

“Yeah. One-”

“Two-” Wendy counted along.

“Three.”

~The Upside Down~ Eddie

While Wendy had been making her way to the bathroom, Eddie had been tearing posters down to make enough mirror space on his bedroom vanity to see his full reflection. He hated it, but he cared more about this miracle he’d been given than he hated his reflection.

When they’d reached the end of the countdown, Eddie had looked up and miraculously saw something other than a monster.

He saw her.

Eddie stared into his mirror, memorizing every inch of this beautiful, heavenly thing before him. She was real. She was human. She had paint on her arms, her clothes, even a little streak of gray that was starting to crack as it dried on her cheek. Her eyes were wide, her chest moved with every deep breath, her lips opened partly and she looked almost as shocked as he was.

“Have you always had those?”

Eddie started, blinking a couple times as he tried to register what she was referring to. Her hand had raised, pointing up to the crown of his head. “Huh?” Eddie reached up in the direction she was pointing, his hand coming in contact with- oh. Yeah.

Eddie grasped one of his horns, letting his arm bend as it dangled, his eyes refocusing on the cluttered surface of his old vanity. “No.” he said. “No I haven’t.”

“Where are you?”

Eddie glanced up to see Wendy’s eyes searching his background, undoubtedly trying to make sense of the darkness, the vines, the dust particles that floated in the air. He looked around too, grimacing. “I’m a long way from Hawkins.”

Wendy’s eyes widened. “Wait, how did you know I’m in Hawkins?”

Eddie, raising an eyebrow, replied, “I didn’t… you’re in Hawkins? Where?”

“Mirkwood Apartments.”

He shook his head. “Can’t say I know it, but it’s been a while since I was there. Lot of time for new places to sprout up.”

Wendy cocked her head to the side, and good God was it adorable. “How long is ‘a long time’?”

Eddie twiddled a piece of hair between his fingers. “Twenty years.”

“You lived in Hawkins twenty years ago?”

Eddie looked up at her, pondering what she thought about when she looked at him. What did she think he was? A monster? A demon? Even he didn’t know what to make of his reflection anymore.

“I grew up there.” Eddie answered.

There was a long pause before Wendy asked her question, a hesitation that made Eddie anticipate whatever lay on the other side of that silence.

“There were some kids… three kids, I think… who died near here twenty years ago.”

Eddie knew where this was going. He knew what the town of Hawkins had probably thought after the gates had shut and trapped him here in Hell. He could picture it now- Remembering the Tragedy of 1986: Murderer Eddie Munson Still At Large. His photo slapped across wanted posters and front page news. Little devil horns drawn in sharpie on posters that decorated the lamp posts across town, hilariously scrawny compared to the very real horns that now curled back from his temples.

“Whatever you’ve heard,” Eddie began, unsure of why he was defending himself since he had learned a long time ago that explaining your side of the story to people was a lost cause; people believe what they want to believe. “It’s probably bullshit. What happened all those years ago… there’s a lot more to the story than what’s safe for everyone to know.”

“Are you one of the kids that died?” Her voice, like her expression, was gentle. She betrayed no emotion, just compassion, which is what made Eddie feel comfortable enough to tell her the truth.

He sighed heavily, looking her in the eyes and reveling in the way it made his heart pump a little faster. He’d forgotten the way that felt. “I should have been.” he stated bluntly. “Like I said, there’s a lot to the story.”

Wendy’s lips pursed as she stared at Eddie in the mirror. He watched as she took him in, her eyes flitting from the tattered clothes he wore to the claws on his hands. To his surprise, she pushed her weight up onto the bathroom counter, hopping up to sit on the green laminate surface. She sat with her bare feet in the seashell sink, legs bent so that her elbows could rest atop her knees. Wendy smiled softly, resting her head on her hands, fingers interwoven as if in prayer.

“So tell me your story.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side. “You sure?” he asked, bracing his hands on his vanity as he leaned a little closer to the glass. He couldn’t help but mimic at least a ghost of her smile back at her, the corner of his mouth lifting the slightest bit as he inclined his head toward her. “It doesn’t have a happy ending.”

Wendy’s grin widened, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “You said you didn’t die though, right?” she shrugged softly. “You can’t know how your story ends if it’s still going.”

That took Eddie aback; this whole time, for twenty years, he had always seen that day in 1986 as the end. That was where his story had stopped. This thing he was now- he wasn’t Eddie anymore. But then this woman, this angel, had appeared out of nowhere blasting Iron Maiden so loud that it had crossed the barrier between worlds. He didn’t know how, he didn’t know why, but she had woken a part of Eddie that he’d seriously believed to be long dead.

So maybe she was right- maybe he didn’t know how his story ended.

For the first time in twenty years, Eddie looked at another human being and smiled so big that it wrinkled the outer corners of his obsidian eyes.

“Yeah…” Eddie chuckled. A spark of hope was igniting within him; he wasn’t sure if he was in danger of melting or if he was enough of a hazard that he might explode- either way, he enjoyed the rush of knowing that something was…beginning.

“... yeah, I guess my story isn’t over yet.”

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munsonology · 10 months

Text

Biker!Eddie and Nunny painting the town red during a scandalous night in the city.

It was the first time Nunny had been to a nightclub. Of course Eddie got in as soon as he strolled up to the door. At some point in the night, Nunny stood at the railing in the VIP section, observing all the club from her perch.

Eddie came up behind her. His hands trailed up her thighs to raise the hem of her dress. His lips glided along her shoulder, teeth playing with the strap of her dress.

His warm fingers probe into her cunt. Nunny’s thighs opened a bit to welcome his hand between them. His middle finger teased her hyman. “See Nunny, I think you like me checking on your little cherry.”

You nodded with a moan you didn’t know you could make. “—and I think you like knowing I’m on the edge of your tongue. So close and yet you still can’t get a taste of me,” you threw back at him.

Eddie chuckled darkly. If his little nun wanted to play games, he’d play along. Eddie’s finger pushed further while his thumb swirled around her clit. “If I fuck you right now?”

“You wouldn’t try it here. Not a big enough audience,” you responded. The ominous presence of your words echoed between the pearly gates of heaven and the hounds at the mountain tops of hell.

Before the eyes of God.

You took hold of his hand and removed him from your cunt. You turned to him and with a swift move, took his finger into your mouth. You kicked him up and down taking your time to circle the tip.

A string of saliva bridged your lips and his skin. “Mmmm…fruity,” you said.

Eddie watched your ass leave the VIP section, dumbfounded about what just happened. You paused at the staircase and turned back to him. “See Eddie, I think you like your cherry a little sour. The only way you’ll get mine is if I let you rip it out of me.”

“You’re playing with fire my little nun.”

“Then bring the inferno.”

Checkmate.

#eddie munson/reader #eddie munson x female reader #munsonology’s eddieverse #fem reader #eddie munson fem!reader #biker!eddie and nun!reader #eddie and nunny #nun!reader #biker eddie munson #biker!eddie munson #munsonology’s biker!eddie #biker!eddie #sav’s multiverse of eddie’s #eddie munson smut #eddie smut #biker!eddie smut #biker Eddie smut #munsonology’s religious kink

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nikkisheep · 2 years

Text

You're just like me (Part Two)

Eddie Munson x female!reader

Warnings: reader's brother does not approve of eddie, eddie and reader hides their relationship, angst, talk of religion, swearing, kissing, making out, brother's name is Samuel.

Summary: Weeks after your meeting, you finally sneak Eddie in for the first time. Your brother catches you two and has some words about the Munson boy.

Request made by: @my-life-in-quotes

Falling for the town's "cult leader" was not the plan on your part. The Munson boy was a kind, caring man who had a great personality. He was nothing like what everyone said he was. Jason had believed that he was a devil worshipper when he was just a guy who like to play DnD.

Weeks after meeting Eddie, I had been sneaking out of my window to go listen to Ozzy with him. Sitting in his old van, I tried to sing with the soundtrack while Eddie laughs at me. I fell for the Munson boy quickly and I told him about my feelings. He felt the same way and we started a relationship.

Eddie knocked on the window, sitting on a tree branch, and I let him in your room.

"Are you crazy Munson?" I ask.

"Crazy for you," He smirks.

"My brother is right down the hall in his room," I hiss, Eddie's lips claiming mine.

"Missed you though."

"I missed you too, baby but you can't be here right now." I giggle.

"Please, we can be quiet."

You shake your head and mutter a soft "idiot" before claiming his mouth with yours. Both y'alls hands caressed each other's body and you moaned into the kiss. Eddie taking the clue to slip you his tongue. Messily you kissed, moving to the bed. Eddie sat down and you straddled his lap, gaining control of the kiss. You groan when you feel Eddie's hand grab a handful of your ass.

"Easy there Munson," I giggle.

"Sorry, you're just so damn pretty."

"Careful with that mouth Eddie. Can't say those things in the big bad Pastor Y/l/n's house."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Eddie smirked before kissing your neck.

Your hands run through his messy curls, gripping when he kissed the right spot, pulling soft whimpers from you. Your little "cult leader" sucked on your collarbone, pulling a shuddered breath from you.

"No marks."

"Can't wait until I don't have to hide from the town with you. Want to show everyone who you belong to," Eddie muttered against your skin.

"I know, me too."

His hand squeezed your ass again and you rut against him. He groans, deep and throaty, before claiming your lips again. You must have been too loud because a knock came from the door.

"You good in there?" Your brother asked.

"Shit," I whispered.

"I asked if you are okay in there," Your brother said again.

"Yeah, I'm good." I say, Eddie kissing your neck again.

"Open this door."

"No, I don't have to."

"Open it now."

"Why?"

"Because this is my house and I said open it."

"You're not my father," I yell.

"What is going on up here?" Your mother asked.

"Open this door," Your brother said again.

You didn't and he picked the lock. Shit.

"What the hell is he doing in here?" Your brother yelled, pointing at Eddie.

"This is-"

"Get this devil worshipper out of my house now," He said.

''No, I care for him." Your brother scoffed.

"You care about this freak?"

"He is not a freak and he does not worship the devil," I cry.

"Sir, if I mayy-" Eddie starts.

"Shut it. Stay away from my sister, you hear me."

"Mom, please." I pleaded.

"Sweetheart, he is just not good for you." She shook her head in disappointment.

"I don't care, I love him." I confess.

"You can't possibly love this cult leader," Your brother scoffed.

"I do. And you are a pastor. You preach about saving the damned but here you are trying to turn Eddie away because you don't like him."I spit.

"You know nothing of what you are talking about. You think you aren't a sinner now. You think you can whore around with this sinful man and you are still allowed in my house, speaking as if you do no wrong?" Your brother yells.

"Samuel enough," Your mother says.

"I will not have a sinner living in my house," He says.

"That is enough. Your sister is one of the kindest people I have ever met and I will not stand here and listen to you belittling her. I may be a sinner or whatever you claim I am but sir, I care for your sister a lot. And I will be damned if you speak to her like that agai," Eddie looks as if he could tear your brother's head off.

"Boys, let's calm down now." Your mom says, pulling Samuel away from Eddie.

"Get him out."

"No."

"Y/n, I said get him out."

"And I said no. I do not care what you say, I said no. You treat me the same as Papa. As if I can't make my own choices. You force me to go to church and you call me a sinner for liking Eddie. You tell me that I will never get into heaven if I keep missing church but guess what, I would rather go to Hell before I listen to a thing you say."

"Y/n!" Your mother gasped.

"Momma, I am moving out. Oh and dear brother, you don't have to worry about these "sinners", I'm sure Eddie's bed has enough room for a bunch of sin." I say, grabbing Eddie and walking out of the door.

"Where do you think you are going?" Your brother yelled after you.

"Going to do what you say I am. A sinner. We both know I am not a whore but those girls you cheat on your wife with are."

"Samuel!" Momma gasped in disbelief.

"Who's the sinner now, brother?"

You walk out of the house, hearing your mother yelling at your poor brother, and climb into Eddie's old van.

"Wow, just wow." Eddie says, breathlessly.

"I can't believe I just did that," I say.

"Now I am even more crazy for you."

"Good because if they think it's a sin to love you, then I guess I am a sinner."

#eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things 4 #eddie my beloved #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson x religious reader

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roanniom · 8 months

Note

i can’t stop thinking about virgin! eddie being so embarrassed about coming after like 3 seconds and he keeps apologizing and says he wants to make up for it😩😩

Okay for You

Virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, PIV / unprotected sex, uncertainty but it resolves

“Jesus fucking Christ, holy mother of fucking god,” he’s stuttering as you lower yourself down on him. His fingertips dig into the meat of your hips so hard you can most certainly count on bruises tomorrow. He’s a lot to take but it feels good as you sink down, giving him a wincing grin.

“Didn’t know the town satan worshiper was so religious,” you tease, lightly sliding the tip of your index finger up and down the naked expanse of his chest in the shape of a cross. “Do you wanna be absolved of sin or do you wanna cum?

“Fuck, you can’t just–,” Eddie bucks up into you harshly and you laugh. Your laugh gets brighter when you notice the furrow in his brow and the desperation in his eyes.

“Choose sin, Eddie. I know you wanna cum.”

“Quit talking about cumming, I’m gonna fucking bust,” he whines out. You roll your hips, once, twice.

“Cum on the dark side, Eddie. We’ve got pussy.”

You’re straight up giggling at your own absurdity and at how far gone he is in under a minutes. His eyes roll back in his head and his mouth drops open in a heady groan, hips stuttering upwards as he spills deep inside you. You ground your hands on his shoulders and bear down on him so that he feels fully encased and snug through his orgasm.

Eddie, it turns out, is fucking beautiful when he cums. Pink tinges the high points of his cheeks, getting darker around his ears and flushing crimson down his neck to his chest. His wet lips are open as he gasps down air, eyelids shut tight against the intensity of his release.

It takes him a minute, but the second he realizes what’s happened, his hands are off your thighs and covering his face in mortification.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“That good, handsome?” you ask smugly, not quite noticing the tonal shift yet.

“No its…well yeah but I didn’t…that was too…fuck I’m so sorry.” When he finishes rambling he sits up and pulls his hands from his face, revealing an almost teary eyed expression. Your eyebrows shoot up in response.

“Hey, hey! What’s wrong?” you ask, suddenly a lot softer, your hand curling around his forearm to pull him so he stops biting at a nail.

“I just blew my load in 0.5 seconds like a fucking virgin.”

You stare at him for a second before breaking out into hysterical giggles. He looks affronted at first, but as you keep laugh the corner of his mouth quirks a little.

“What?”

“Eddie, you are a virgin,” you clarify, though you immediately amend it. “Were a virgin. I kinda expected it, to be honest.”

Eddie huffs a laugh but sits a bit straighter. He’s still inside you, growing soft, but you like the closeness so you don’t get up just get.

“What? You didn’t think I’d be a mind blowing lover?” he asks and your glad he’s back to making jokes. You shrug.

“You’ve got a big dick, so you’re not that far off to begin with. If we work on your stamina you could be blowing my back out in no time.”

You watch him short circuit as he stares at you and you definitely don’t miss the way his dick twitches inside of you.

“Yeah?” he asks. It’s hesitant. You lean forward and give him a kiss that answers all his questions - bruising and wet and probing and dirty - and his lips chase yours when you pull away.

“You’ll be Fabio in no time,” you promise with a cheeky smile.

“I wanna make you cum,” Eddie replies earnestly. His hands are back on your thighs, smoothing up and down. “I’m so fucking pissed I didn’t make you cum. ‘M sorry.”

“Eddie, don’t be sorry,” you reassure him. You go to kiss him again and he melts, mewling desperately and leaning into the affection. It turns you on so much that this scary, beautiful man is putty beneath you. So much so that you feel yourself growing needy and snake a hand down between you to start playing with your clit.

The friction causes you to squeeze around his rapidly re-hardening cock. He jolts at the feeling.

“What’re you…?” he breaks away to ask you, eyes trailing down to your ministrations. “Oh fuck are you…are you touching yourself?”

“Mhm. You’re making me feel good, Eds. I kinda have to,” you confirm with a chuckle. He watches you for a moment before he slides his hand down your abdomen tentatively.

“Can…can I do it?”

You’re panting a bit at this point. Worked up again from the lack of satisfaction the first time around.

“You wanna?” you ask, kind of hoping he’ll say no so you can get yourself off before he cums prematurely again. You can feel his hips beginning to cant lightly, teasing you with the pressure.

“Please,” he practically whispers and you can deny him so you pull you hand away. What you aren’t expecting is for him to grab it and wrap his lips around your wet fingers. Your eyes blow wide and your pussy clenches around his cock, making him groan around his mouthful.

“Eddie…” you say quietly. He blinks at you before pulling your fingers from his mouth with a pop and reaching down to press his own circles into your clit.

It’s juuuuust off. Another millimeter and you’ll feel great. You roll your hips to try and get him where you need him, but unfortunately the slide of his cock inside of you distracts him, making him freeze up and moan. So you take matters into your own hands, literally, grabbing his wrist and pulling at him so that he’s on the right spot.

“Yeah? Right there?”

He’s seeking genuine reassurance, but your brain hears the questions as dirty talk, making you roll your hips again.

“Fuck. Yeah. Yeah right there.”

You begin grinding on him in earnest while he continues to play with you. After a few moments you grab his free hand to bring it from your hip to grope your breast. His eyes practically bug out of his head.

“Oh wow,” Eddie says.

You want to laugh at how easy he is. But it’s starting to feel really good, and you’re so pent up at this point you decide just to chase it.

“Say something,” you breathe out. Eddie looks confused.

“Like…like what?”

“Just - fuck. I don’t know. Talk dirty.” You’re doing your best not to ride him fully, because you can see the way all of his muscles are starting to tense. You hope that by giving him a task it’ll distract him long enough so you can cum.

“Uh you’re…you’re just like…so fucking beautiful—,”

“Eds,” you let out a frustrated chuckle. “That’s not dirty talk—.”

“So f-fucking beautiful on my cock,” he continues as if you hadn’t interrupted him. “Want you to cum. You’re so wet, bet you need it so bad.”

Well shit.

Recently de-virgin-ed Eddie had found your weakness and it’s condescension. Your pussy squeezes him and you let out a moan that has him grinning through a hiss.

“You need it, huh? Just desperate to cum, huh baby?”

Baby is a new pet name and you love it. You nod and his finger picks up it’s pace on your clit, his other hand following your earlier lead by playing with and tugging at your nipples.

“Need it, Eds.”

“Oh I need it, too, baby. Shoulda happened the first time, but I need you to feel good now, ok?” There’s a sincerity behind the lightest layer of teasing. He can’t really tease fully. Not when he’s on the brink of cumming again as it is.

But the laser focused eye contact he’s locked you in is doing plenty for you.

“Ok.”

“Ok,” Eddie repeats in a hum. His free hand goes to the back of your neck and pulls you down to him so he can grace you with a wet, sucking kiss. He bites your plush lower lip and lets his free hand tighten in your hair.

“Oh god, Eddie,” you whimper against his lips.

“Fuuuuck, I’ve been waiting to hear you like this,” Eddie groans.

You’re basically just cock warming him at this point with a little humping mixed in. But you’re really impatient at this point, so the constant roll of your hips is taking you further than it usually would.

Eddie’s free hand slides from your hair down your back to grab a a handful of your ass. He guides your gyrating hips up and down your cock just that much more and now you’re panting.

“Eddie,” you whine. “I’m close.”

“Holy shit. Seriously?” Eddie asks, his eyebrows shooting up. Clearly shocked.

“Yeah, handsome. You’re fucking me so good.”

You both know it’s an exaggeration. But you’re impatient to cum at this point and eager to praise the beautiful man beneath you. He preens and licks his lips.

“Yeah? Gonna fuck you so good, baby. Wanna make you feel so good. Please, just let me baby. Wanna…oh fuck…please.” He’s rambling at this point and you know he’s close. You bring your hands to either side of his face, framing his jaw.

“Look at me, handsome,” you breathe. You’re so close at this point. His hazy eyes find yours.

“Baby…” he says, eyelids fluttering. He looks just so absolutely destroyed - that’s what ultimately gets you. That this man is losing his damn mind over you but holding out as long as he can so you feel pleasure.

That pleasure washes over you in that moment, along with a cry of Eddie’s name. You collapse over him and cling to him as your pussy spasms around his aching cock. It blows Eddie’s ever loving mind to feel your body reacting to him so strongly. His last bit of resolve snaps like a fucking twig and suddenly he’s clutching you to him and fucking up into you.

“Baby-oh fuck. Baby, yes. God.” He’s gasping and panting and then his hips are stuttering. He goes still, cumming inside you for the second time tonight.

You’re so full. Two loads of cum and his already oversized cock. But even better is how he holds you. Big arms surround you and keep you grounded against his body, even as twitching aftershocks rock him.

It’s a few moments before you’re properly able to do anything other than relish in the feeling of his overwhelming presence. It’s the persistent ache in your muscles that spurs you into action.

“Eddie…I’ve gotta move…”

“Oh fuck, sorry!” He’s quick to release you, letting you peel yourself from his sweaty skin and gingerly climb off of him. Before you can move any further he jumps up. “Wait let me just…”

He’s back in a moment with a wash cloth - warm, you notice in the back of your hazy mind. He lightly cleans you up, missing the heart eyes you direct his way from the sheer gentleness of his movements.

Eddie is so caring. So sweet and bumbling and eager and awkward and you can’t help but beam back at him when he sends a smile your way. He settles back on the bed with you hesitantly.

“Was that…was that okay for you?” he asks.

“I should be asking you that,” you counter, slapping at his arm. He’s having none of it, though, instead grabbing you and pulling you into his arms.

“Well I fucking came twice so I don’t think it’s really a question, baby.”

“Hmmm I like when you call me baby,” you coo. You’re a boneless mass of gooey feelings now, encased in Eddie’s arms. The skin around his eyes crinkles and his dimples deepen.

“Oh yeah? You like being my baby?” You don’t miss the way his flush gets deeper but you relish in the newfound confidence in his voice.

“I love being your baby, Eds.”

~*~

—

—-

——

Thank you for reading! Please reblog and comment to let me know what you think

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things smut

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ghost-proofbaby · 2 months

Note

15 with Eddie? :)

i woke up this morning, rolled over, and immediately wrote this all on my phone. wasn't even 8 am and i was already all mushy and horny for this man. enjoy whatever this is (morning sex. it's morning sex and being in love) <3

15. "I had a very nice dream that started like this."

warnings: smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), afab reader but no pronouns used, a lot of religious imagery idk why it just... worked?, not edited, 18+ so minors do not interact

pairings: eddie munson x afab!reader

wc: 2.9k+

join the smutty party! send me one of these smut dialogue prompts with a character

The sun hadn’t even rose yet. The sky simply lighter, a gentle omniscient light peaking through the curtains, holding little to no warmth yet when you first awoke. The room is shades of grey with hints of violet, soft pinks just on the horizon but not quite painting the scene.

It’s nice — it’s serene.

You can feel him breathing behind you. Still there, still warm, still holding you with one strong arm around your waist as his nose brushes at the nape of your neck, his snore rustling your hair ever so carefully. It’s almost enough to soothe you back to sleep; counting his deep intakes of air, exhaling in time with him, sinking deeper into bed sheets that are stained with the smell of his cologne and shampoo. Almost.

But when you first awake, you have a different idea in mind.

It starts off innocent enough. Small movements as you press yourself further back into Eddie, minuscule wiggles to just be close to him. You’re still half asleep and yet, every atom in your body is desperate to melt into him. You need every inch of his skin pressed tightly into yours. Your vision still blurry, but the instinct to burrow more tightly into your boy impossible to miss.

“I know you’re awake,” he suddenly murmurs into your neck, voice muffled and rough with his rest.

You hadn’t even noticed the change in his breathing. More focused on the ache between your thighs that you had woken up with.

“Sh,” you jokingly whisper, smiling as you force your eyes back closed. He can’t even see your face, but it feels right to put on an act, “You’re gonna ruin it, Munson.”

“‘M not ruining anything, baby,” he nearly slurs. His arm tightens around you, encouraging all your squirming, pulling your hips back to be flush with his a little more urgently.

He’s hard against your lower back. His flimsy boxers do nothing to hide his excitement. It isn’t particularly surprising — most mornings he wakes up hard as it is — but it does cause a soft stirring within you. Encourages your hips to swivel once more, action a bit more pointed, just enough pressure to cause a low groan to slip almost inaudible from between his lips.

“Careful,” he warns, voice a bit louder now. His tone is still gravely, scratching an itch of the farthest reaches of your mind. Somewhere between a cat’s purr and the sound of tires on dirt roads when your favorite person is returning home. Comforting. Serene.

You press into him further, shamelessly grinding now, eyes still shut, “What? ‘M not doing anything.”

He doesn’t need to see your voice to hear that sleepy grin.

It doesn’t happen quickly — there’s no rush as he slowly tugs at your body, encouraging you to rotate so that he’s no longer spooning you. Your back digs into the mattress holding the warmth of his body from the entire night, wrapping you up in a bliss that’s impossible to replicate. His smell, his warmth, his presence. You don’t think you’ll ever tire of mornings like this, especially not when you finally open your eyes to find him propped up on his elbow, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes and a half-smile that accentuates his left dimple.

He’s fucking beautiful. It takes your breath away.

“What’s got you so excited this morning, hm?”

The light has grown ever so slightly brighter, just enough as though it whispers, look at him. The room is still grey, but your boy is a vision of colors. Dark russet eyes with streaks of gold that the sun couldn’t compare to, chestnut hair that sticks up in all the wrong places from his slumber, skin that washes out in the pale winter morning and only makes the contrast of the soft fuchsias and violets blooming along his neck from the evening before more apparent. He’s softer than any sunrise, more relaxing than any bath he’s ever drawn for you, more calming than hearing your favorite song strummed out on muted guitar strings.

You love him. And that only really fuels your flames.

“I had a very nice dream,” you mumble, squinting up at him, bringing a hand up to his cheek. Your touch is delicate as you trace over his stubble, painting mindless patterns briefly before cupping the full side of his face and threading your fingertips into the edges of his hairline, “A very nice dream that started just like this.”

He rolls his hips against your side, peering down at you as he does so, letting you guide him closer until his lips barely brush yours.

You can hear birds chirping outside. There’s the rumble of a truck engine. The creak of a nearby front door opening and shutting.

The world is beginning to wake up, but you’re not quite yet ready to share the day with anyone but him.

“You did, did you?” he’s awake enough now to tease you, body slowly inching its way over yours, arms on either side of your head to hold his weight. The plush comforter slips down, exposing his bare shoulders as his torso serves as your new blanket, “Tell me ‘bout it, baby.”

Your legs fall open instinctively, making a home for him and only him. A space between your thighs perfectly carved out for the shape and weight of him as he slips into place, hips digging into yours, a homely and familiar position you’ve found yourself in a hundred times before.

It never gets old. It never elicits any less of a reaction from you, always pulling the softest of gasps from your throat as he leans his head down to trail his lips down your exposed neck.

The sound has him pulling you into him a bit more urgently, but his pace never quickens. He’s taking his time. You two have all the time.

A car alarm, distant as could be, sounds off. A voice of a neighbor echos across the trailer park.

Maybe it’s an adoring husband wishing goodbye to his wife for the day. Or a mother, rushing her children for school. There’s a million and one scenarios, thousands of strangers beginning their dreary week, but you only care about the warm welcome of the day that he offers you.

Anything but dreary, even in tired morning light.

“You were kissing my neck,” you say, careful to be as silent as can be, even if it were just the two of you in the room. The world doesn’t need to know you’re awake yet; it doesn’t deserve your attention like he does yet.

His teeth graze unintentionally against the soft spot below your ear, “Like this?”

“Just like that.”

For emphasis, you lift your hips, seeking out his with ease. You can feel him, pronounced as he presses against the thin fabric of your underwear. There’s too many layers between the two of you, too much cotton and linen in the shapes of his t-shirt you’d worn to bed and his damn boxers, but they’ll come off eventually.

Eventually. There’s no rush.

Your head tilts back in a sigh, and he pauses all his kisses to ask, “What next?”

“Keep going,” you squirm, hips continuing to roll, flames of desire lighting in your gut, dancing as soft as the morning light, “Keep going, please.”

The night before, he would have teased your desperation.

But right now, with just you and him and the ghost of sleep, he’s not in the business of taunting.

He listens, a hand coming down to your hip. Not holding it down to the mattress, but simply holding. He lets his thumb slip beneath the t-shirt, lets a rough callous built up from years of guitar and working on his van brush roughly over your skin with the most sensitive of intentions.

Slowly. If the morning wasn’t so heavy still on the two of you, weighing down every movement, slowing every reaction and pacing every adoring kiss, this is the part where the two of you might have grown a bit impatient. More nipping, more bruising gripping, more complaints of going further, further, further.

But today? In this moment? The two of you have time.

A dream sequence of his wandering hands slipping that old faded tee up until it’s finally bunched at your chest, until he’s finally peeling himself away from your body and he’s lifting it over your head. Every move is brimming with a love you never thought possible. A love to swim in, a love to sink into. One with the capability to drown the two of you, but it only breathes a new life into both of your lungs.

When his lips wrap around a nipple and your back arches, that love thrums a bit deeper, coiling up your insides and urging your fingers to tangle up into his curls.

You need him closer.

“So beautiful,” he whispers against your skin as he mouths at it, “So, so fucking beautiful.”

The back of your skull digs deeper into a pillow engrained with the shape of your head from years of rest, a soft laugh slipping in between your blissful breaths, “Don’t lie. I’m a mess right now.”

You were. And so was he. In a barely awake, subtle and tired way. Messy hair, messy marks of sleep across cheeks, messy breaths not yet minty from a morning routine the two of you followed like a religion.

His head lifts, eyes glowing in the limited light, “I like your mess. As a matter of fact, I love your mess.”

His hand on your hip squeezes for emphasis.

You look down, wordless as you drink him in. A vision between the pinks dancing through the curtains, a godly presence as the dawn breaks. He’s a salvation, a new beginning and a new ending. He’s everything fairytales had tried to convince you existed in your youth. Prettier than any angel, warmer than any sun.

And he’s yours. In this moment, and in all the next ones.

“I think I can make an even bigger mess of you, though, if you’ll let me,” a devilish smile finally overtakes his features and both of those dimples you’ve become so unintentionally fond of make an appearance.

He dips his head, lowers his voice, lets his lips explore. You nearly pray to the Heavens above as you feel his hand slip from its gentle cupping of your hip, moving to slip nimble fingers beneath the band of your panties — but you don’t. Not a single God would care about what’s happening right now.

Just two people, two souls, twisting up in their bed sheets. Finding each other, finding divinity, before the sun even has a chance to stretch its arms fully over the horizon.

When he sinks lower and his face disappears beneath the cloak of the comforter, you hold your breath. When his mouth finds your cunt over fabric, you release it with a moan.

“That’s it, baby,” he encourages, both hands pulling off your underwear, pressing a hard kiss one final time over the cotton before he slips them off, “Keep making those pretty noises for me.”

Your thighs drape over his shoulders, heels digging into his back as he begins his morning worship. All lips and tongue and finding the right places as fast as possible. Not out of a rush, but out of practice. He knows your body like the back of his hand, and he proves it.

He knows exactly how hard to suck on your clit once he’s captured it between his lips. He knows exactly where to trace his tongue, circling your hole in lazy circles, not quite teasing but not quite succumbing as he lets you buck your hips in reckless abandon. When to speed up, when to slow down, when to add a finger and when to let the gravel of his voice vibrate against your core — he knows you. Through every little whimper, through every soft chanting of his name, through every tug of his hair.

And he knows you well enough to know when to stop his ministrations, pulling back only to crawl his way back up your body, his boxers slipping off somewhere in the process.

You’re still all over his lips as he kisses you fervently, slick and sticky and a little tart as his tongue dives into your mouth.

And just as he knows you, you know him.

You’d lied, of course. You hadn’t really had a dream just like this. You can’t even remember how you’d awoken with such want, but all that mattered is you had. You’d woken up to an all-consuming need, even if your half-conscious state, and you’d woken up to him.

Your hand reaches down between the two of you, wrapping around him carefully. Your skin is still cooler than his, it’s always cooler than his in the dead of night, and he hisses at the content.

“I love you, you know?” you quietly confess to your lover, as though it might be a sin, as though it might be the greatest secret to ever be held on a patient tongue.

His skin is nearly velvet under your touch, pliant in your palm as you stroke him. Each movement and twist of your wrist begins to unravel him, his head dropping to the juncture between your shoulder and your neck. Every pant of his breath brushes skin just as his snores had.

Gold litters the shade of sunrise entering the room, but the only warm colors you care to entertain are the ones in his eyes as he finally looks at you and tugs your hand away.

“I love you more.”

You could argue. You could fight him on it, start to rattle off your list of all the things you adore about him, prove that no one has ever loved another person in this lifetime the way that you’ve loved him. The freckle below his right eye, the chip in on of his canines from an accident in his youth, the scar on his left knuckles from the first time he’d tried to do a trick with a butterfly knife at nine years old. The jokes he interrupts your day so kindly with, breaking up the mundane with laughter that seemingly fuels you to carry on with your time until you’ve returned home to just him. The passion that flows inside of him until it pours out over everything sacred to him — his music, his interests, his friends, you. A passionate and devoted man, yours to have and yours to hold.

But you don’t argue the point. You just smile as he kisses you, deep and searching, as he lines himself up with your entrance.

He loves you more, you love him most. He’ll figure it out — eventually.

The stretch of him is pleasurable, just like it always is. Filling you, warming you, making that closer you crave so ardently nearly tangible. Every roll of his hips has him reaching spots inside of you to elicit stars to cloud your vision. The morning light, the white hot pleasure — you don’t care what makes your vision blue. You only care that it does, all your mews and all his groans entangling up in the air.

Your palms slide over the back of his shoulders, your fingers dig into soft skin that you’ll spend the rest of your days memorizing.

Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

No prayer has ever been repeated with such need or belief as his name from your lips.

And he returns the favor. Gasping out your name, somehow finding himself just enough in his right mind to continue to whisper sweet nothings against your ear, timing them with his leisurely thrusts.

“So fucking tight and so fucking good to me,” he manages to gasp, digging his hips in a little harsher, “Could stay here forever. Kind of want to stay here forever.”

You don’t know how he’s coherent; you can’t form a single response, eyes rolling, hands clinging to him tighter.

“Look at me when you cum.”

He knows you. He knows you very well. You hadn’t even noticed that coiling in your stomach or the fluttering of your walls when he calls you out, forehead pressing to yours as your eyes open to find his.

It’s not world-shattering when the waves come — it doesn’t have to be. It’s something to wrap around your entire essence, something to soothe and something to coax you into oblivion. Something to get lost in as his movements stutter and his own eyes grow heavy.

He doesn’t close his eyes, and neither do you. Lost in that pleasure, and lost in each other.

You’re still rhythmically clenching around him when he comes, filling you up with warmth, burying deep in you and holding there as his mouth falls open and you're quick to pepper his outstretched neck with kisses. The smallest reminders of all the love you have for him. The gentlest of devotions, sprinkled across the skin of a man who will always know an affection like no other. Not everyone in the world will be so lucky as to know the fondness you offer him, and as far as you’re concerned, that’s how it should be.

Curses spill as his movements slow, before finally stilling. He drops his weight onto you, exhaustion finding its way back into his bones.

There’s things to do, a day to begin. Work and people waiting on you two, responsibilities to worry about and daily mundane accomplishments to achieve. But for now, it’s just the two of you. Awake with the rest of the world, but completely separate as you cradle him and he holds you.

“That was one Hell of a way to wake up, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your skin, and you only throw your head back in a laugh.

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#ghost's stories #smutty party #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #i just really like the idea of waking up to eddie #especially like this #i wrote this half asleep so it might not be the best my brain wasn't really working #i just needed to write it out before work and before i got out of bed #the run on sentences in this one are strong

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bimbobaggins69 · 6 months

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𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒕𝒉𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒔

priest eddie munson x nun reader

♱ summary: after a life of chaos and sin, eddie finds comfort in the one thing he never thought he would, religion. But what happens once he gives his life to god and swears off all of his old vices before finding the one person that makes him question whether it was worth it.

♱ warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, fem reader, no use of y/n, use of pet names, religious themes, slight religious trauma, reader was forced to become a nun, mentions of drugs, fingering, unprotected p in v, slight lil daddy kink, cream pie, fluffff, overuse of italics but what else is new? Pls do not read if any of the above sounds offensive to you, you are in control of your own media consumption.

♱ authors note: just a little something to feed my priest eddie brainrot, hope you like! A special thank you to my beautiful beta’s @take-everything-you-can , @xxhellfirebunnyxx & @corrodedcorpses <3

♱ wc: 3.7k

The first time Eddie had ever seen you, he thought it was a fluke. Of course he’d see the most beautiful girl, after he had taken a vow of chastity and was in the works to become a priest.

It felt as though God was taunting him for all of the sinning he had done as a teen and young adult. Dangling something he could now never have, right in front of his face. Oh, cruel world.

He should be used to this, the feelings of disappointment and utter longing. For most of high school and some time after, he was used. Used for the things he had that people wanted: sex, drugs, and the few rare instances girls dated him just to piss off their parents. But never has he been wanted, adored unconditionally. After living a life like that, filled with drug binges and meaningless sex, giving his life to God seemed like a no brainer, at the time.

Eddie was impulsive however and the things that felt clear as day in the moment, seemed to blur over time.

What Eddie didn’t know was that you had already planned your escape route. You had grudgingly been pressured by your late father to join the “family business”. He had become a priest when you were five and since then he’s had your life mapped out for you; become a nun, work in the monastery and give your life and soul to God until it was your time to eventually meet him.

That was not the life you wanted for yourself. You wanted to fall in love and get married, have children and move far away from this town that has brought you nothing but shame and guilt.

“Excuse me, uh I believe this belongs to you.” A voice echoes through the empty chapel, making your shoulders jolt at the startling interruption of your most sacred thoughts. Your veiless head snaps towards the voice in fear, as you were not to be in the church without your veil, it was a symbol of modesty that your convent took very seriously.

What you found was not an angry priest, deacon or catechist but a student priest. His kind eyes and gentle smile, long brown locks that were pulled back at the nape of his neck and his hands that were clutching at your head piece, had all simultaneously taken your breath away. There had never been anyone in the church that met his appearance. He had a bad boy turned good look that really set your insides ablaze. Whether it was a warning from God, not to stray from the path by allowing you to feel small licks of hellfire, or your subconscious begging for a reason to deviate from the life that was so carefully laid out for you, you didn't know but what you did know was this man would now become the catalyst of all your waking day dreams.

“Oh, yes my apologies, sir.” You softly smile before taking the veil and placing it securely on your head. You turn back to the big wooden cross hung above the altar you’re standing afront, before looking back into the strangers' doe pools of chocolate. “How uh, how are you enjoying your seminary studies?” You question, cheeks heating up at your terrible attempt at small talk.

“My seminary studies?” Eddie repeats with a low chuckle as his eyebrows shoot up, getting lost behind the fringe of his shaggy bangs. He cocks a wide smirk at your question, you really were as sweet and delicate as you looked. That made the future priests’ stomach flip in excitement. The need for corrupting such a cute little thing, vehemently returning. He hadn’t felt that utter desire in years. He would give this all up to watch you fall apart underneath him.

“Mmhm.” You giggle with a small nod of your head, fingers twisting together over your front from the frisson excitement bursting through your chest. You had never felt this way talking to any priests or priests in training, the rush was addicting.

“It’s going well.” The male murmurs with an unconvincing smile, his eyes glance down to your lips before snapping back up to your eyes in a fleeting moment. Your heart rate kicks up at the implication before you boldly turn towards him, your chest puffed out as the swell of your breasts are tightly hugged by the black fabric of your unflattering habit.

Eddie takes a step closer towards you, the toe of his boots brush against your black flats. His eyes roaming your fully clothed body as if he had x-ray vision and could see the black lace set you allow yourself to wear underneath, as an act of rebellion that only you were allowed a glimpse of.

His left hand slowly moves into your space, gently placing the cloth of your veil that had fallen over the front of your shoulder, back to its rightful place. The act was so tender and kind you couldn’t help but to lean closer into his touch.

The chapel was so still, all that could be heard was the heavy breathing of two very enamored people, as if they finally found what they had been looking for all along. A safe place to house their hearts.

In a matter of seconds you jerk back, as footsteps ring out from the corridor, startling you out of your love filled daze. Eddie thinks on his feet, the awfully close position being far too compromising, so he takes your hand and leads you into the confession box. He covers your mouth as the footsteps grow closer, two people chattering as they walk by before leaving out of the exit, letting the heavy wooden doors slam shut behind them.

Eddie quickly removes his hand, shooting you a sympathetic smile before the realization hits that you’re seated on his lap, half awakened cock digging into your backside causing a small gasp and unintentional clench of your thighs. A devious smile displays itself upon the brown eyed boy's lips, you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you. And he didn’t even know you. Oh he’s fucked.

His soft lips swiftly brush up against yours, making you quickly pull away in surprise. “I can’t kiss you, I don’t even know your name.” You whisper rather unconvincingly.

“It’s Eddie, what’s your name sweetheart?” He purrs into your ear, goosebumps alite your skin as you squirm in his lap from the low timber of his voice.

You meekly recite your name as your face grows hot from his attention. “Mmm, pretty name for an even prettier girl.” He huffs before he licks his lips in anticipation. His cock now fully hard and poking into your clothed skin.

Eddie gently grabs your chin, eyes meeting yours in a powerful standoff. “May I kiss you, angel? I really need to kiss you.” The desperation dripping from his voice is enough to convince you of anything.

“Yes.” You murmur before fully straddling him, his lips find yours in a passionate frenzy as you move together like a beautiful melody.

In all of your timidness and trepidation you’ve completely forgotten how it feels to be pressed up against another body, brain empty as you enjoy the moment as it comes, you giggle between kisses at the double entendre.

“What’s so funny, huh?” Eddie says playfully, grabbing at your sides and causing a shriek of loud laughter to roll off your tongue. How was it possible that this man made you feel like a kid again, a kid you didn’t even get to be? The fleeting nostalgia is quickly interrupted when Eddie puts a finger up to your lips, a gesture that asks “do you wanna get caught?” And it almost makes you giddy, nothing this exciting ever happens to you.

“You gotta be quiet, angel. Can you do that for me?” He asks in a dominating tone that has you shuttering and weak at the knees. He swipes a gentle finger across your lips, placing it in between the two before you quickly get the hint, wrapping your plush pink pillows around his index and lightly sucking. The action has Eddie’s eyes rolling back in his head, there was no way he’d be able to hold back, not with you grinding down on his painfully hard cock while sucking on his finger.

Without much thought left in your already fucked out brain, you remove the long black cloth that you’ve despised for years, yanking it off of your shoulders and over your head. Disposing of it over your shoulder without a care in the world, you had more pressing matters at hand.

“Oh fuck.” Eddie’s breath hitches as utter shock crosses his features, his mouth drops open while his eyes roam the expanse of your body that is scarcely covered by lacey black fabric. His cock twitches underneath you, causing you to squirm, unintentionally rubbing his throbbing pink tip over your warm heat and pulling a needy moan from between your lips.

He wastes no time, bringing his hands to rub over the see through fabric that is covering your now peaked nipples before slowly moving down in a gentle but callous glide over your sides, to your hips and finally landing on your plush thighs, giving them a tight squeeze as his lips curl up in satisfaction.

“Can I touch you, baby?” He whispers, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours as he desperately awaits your approval.

“Please.” You moan out into the expanse of the wooden box as you drag your slick cunt across his achingly hard cock in one more act of torment.

His fingers move before his brain, finding themselves between your legs, rubbing right over that button of pleasure that Eddie hasn’t been acquainted with, in what feels like years. He slips his hand past the black lace, digits sliding between your soaked lips and teasing at your tight little hole before he’s bringing the slick up to your swollen bud and drawing gentle circles, a loud moan erupts from your chest as the unknown pleasure consumes you.

You weren’t a virgin, despite what everyone thought of you or at least what you let them think. No one knew that you’d lost your virginity the summer of junior year. Maybe it was an act of rebellion against your strict parents or maybe just a sad attempt at being so starved for any kind of connection, you took the only one some high school boy had to offer; three minutes in the back of his beat up Pontiac.

The feelings being pulled from you by the long haired man, were unlike anything you’ve ever felt and you never wanted it to stop. You would beg and plead to him until the end of times to always make you feel this good, it’s the closest to God you’ve ever felt in all of your life, how is this a sin?

“Does that feel good, angel baby?” Eddie whispers into your ear, low and seductive as his finger finally breeches your entrance, it slips in easily and without pain but the pleasure makes your hands fly up to grip at his shoulders before throwing your head back and letting out the sexiest set of moans Eddie has ever had the delight of hearing.

He slips a second digit in alongside the first, pumping in and out at a slow pace but the depth is what had your toes curling into your little black flats that were being held on by a thread, threatening to fall off of your feet at just the slightest movement. Eddie began to scissor his fingers apart, stretching you open enough to take his girth. The moans that were beginning to fill the church were downright sinful.

“I-I think I’m gonna um…” you breathe out harshly as your cheeks heat up from the words that you just can’t bring yourself to utter.

“You’re gonna what, huh? You gotta talk to me, baby. Tell me what’s goin’ on?” Eddie asks in faux concern, it’s so mocking and arrogant but it causes you to clench tightly around his fingers, sucking him in like a fucking vice.

“I’m- ah ah, I’m gonna cum!” You sob into his chest as you grind down onto his digits, fucking them into you deeper with each thrust, until your incredible high starts to feel slightly painful and overstimulating.

“Such a good girl.” Eddie praises, slipping his two fingers out of your pussy before bringing them up to his mouth and sucking dramatically as a groan of delight reverberates from his chest.

“You think you can cum on daddy’s cock like that?” He questions, his lust filled eyes bore into yours as the filthy words drip from his tongue. You should be disgusted, it should turn your stomach…but it doesn’t, not even in the slightest. Instead it amplifies your arousal and now it’s you who is desperate, yanking his vestment off of his upper body in one swift and eager motion.

With Eddie’s full chest on display, you drag your nails gently down his torso, causing a whimper to slip past his lips. He has tattoos. The revelation causes your eyes to widen. You didn’t think priests were even allowed to have tattoos, they were a sin in your convent. Although you had been fed so much propaganda throughout the years, you really couldn’t see what made them so terrible.

And you had to admit they were very attractive, certainly adding to the whole former bad boy mystique he has going on.

“You like em’?” Eddie asks as if he knew exactly what you were thinking, a glint in his eyes as they lock with yours.

“I do, father Eddie.” You purr as your hand brushes over his hard erection still locked behind the confines of his black slacks.

“Fuck.” He hisses into your neck before leaving a trail of sloppy kisses, his hands reaching for your black lace thong as if he was going to slip it down and off of your body, but the sounds of fabric tearing alert you to his true intentions.

“I’ll replace those.” He says with a sinister chuckle, throwing the piece of fabric behind you to be lost in the sea of clothing beneath your feet.

“Holy shit!” The man gasps as his eyes meet your dripping center, the damp coils that sit above your mound and your little stretched hole that was done by his own hand. The view causes him to bite at his lip in animalistic hunger.

“Mmm, such a naughty boy using such foul language in a church.” You tut, having no idea where that came from but if his cheeks that have now grown a bright pink hue and the wild growl that slipped from his mouth were anything to go by, he was just as into it.

Eddie can’t take much more of your teasing so his hands slip down to the buckle keeping his slacks up, eagerly removing all of the obstacles that keep him from sheathing his cock deep into your tight little cunt.

Once he is fully released from his fabric confinement he wraps his hand around himself, giving it a few tugs before he’s smearing the large beads of precum around his tip and down his shaft, groaning from the attention he was so badly yearning for.

“You ready, baby?” He questions. Bringing his glistening, pink head to the seam of your sodden lips and rubbing the tip against your clit, before prodding it against your awaiting hole. The way your cunt sucks him in is heavenly. It was as if he was a virgin again, nothing or no one else mattered before you. The feelings settling in the young man's chest were overwhelming and terrifying but when he looked up from how his cock was coated in your wetness and into your eyes, he knew you felt it too.

You let out a breath of relief when he was finally buried to the hilt inside of you, throbbing and aching for release. Deciding to end the torment of your teasing, you begin using your knees that are roughly digging into the oak wood of the pew eddie is seated on as leverage to bounce and swirl your hips as you fuck him, so audaciously.

“Ah, ah, ah…” were the only noises leaving both of your mouths as you continuously sunk down onto Eddie’s cock. His big hands gripping the meat of your thighs as if you’d dissipate without his touch.

“Please.” You whine into the sweat slick skin of his neck, before reaching for the hair tie placed carelessly into a bun at his nape. You tug releasing his brown waves that fell just beneath his shoulders.

“Please what, my love?” That word made your head spin, you’d never been referred to as someone’s love. I mean you just met him and he probably says lots of endearing things while he’s getting laid, but it certainly made that fire in your belly kick up to blazing high levels.

“Please fuck me!” You sob, tears falling from your eyes as you get closer to your sweet release. But your legs were closer to finishing than you, as every bounce sent a searing pain from your knees up to your thighs.

“I’m sorry baby. I’m makin’ you do all the work, aren’t I?” Eddie teases with a condescending grin, making you pout and nod your head in agreement. “Here you are bein’ such a good girl, riding my cock like that and I don’t even have the decency to help you out.” He tuts, a wide smile splitting his face before the hands that were once resting on your thighs, come up and grab two rough handfuls of your ass.

He pulls your cheeks apart as he sinks down some, planting his heavy boot clad feet better onto the red carpet of the confessional box. He sends you a quick wink before he begins pounding into you with almost inhumanly, rapid thrusts making you cry out into the stuffy air.

Your hands dig into his scalp, grabbing fistfuls of hair as he fucks you like an animal, with complete carnal hunger. A chill runs down your spine all the way to your toes as the fire in your lower stomach begins to consume you. You don’t care who hears you now, you just care about you and Eddie and working each other's bodies to gratification.

“Your close baby, I can feel it. C’mon, let go for me and cum on my cock.” He demands as his length throbs with each clench of your walls around him. He’s too close, but he’d rather die than cum before you.

“Oh! Yes, Father Eddie.” You squeak before crashing your lips into his. The long haired man’s eyes roll back into his head and a growl escapes his chest at the use of his not so future title. If he can’t have this then being a priest just won’t do, not anymore.

Eddie breaks the passion fueled kiss to suck his thumb into his mouth, slicking it up before bringing it to your swollen clit. The first gentle circle makes you jump, causing your walls to tighten even harder around him. His toes curl in his boots, he was so close, so on the edge to stuffing you full of him.

“I’m gonna cum inside your pretty little pussy, do you want that?” He asks roughly, but his eyes are so soft and so full of adoration and you want whatever he’s willing to give you.

“Yes, please Father Eddie.” You plead as you meet his thrusts, aching legs be damned. You can feel that high that’s teetering so close, you’re so desperate to fall off the edge.

“Who’s the naughty one now, huh? Begging a church priest to cum inside you? You bad girl.” He tsks, with a faint chuckle. His words knock you over the edge, coming so hard on his cock you see a white blinding light as your eyes tightly shut.

“Mm, that’s it baby!” Eddie growls, his thrusts faltering as he cums inside of you, your walls now coated with his white, hot release.

Eddie scrubs his hands down his face, “oh my god!” He exasperates before wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you tightly into him, as his softening cock is still buried inside of you.

“Shh, you can’t use the lord's name in vain in a church!” You playfully reprimand, as if what you both have just done wasn’t grounds for going straight to hell.

“Hey, watch your mouth when you’re talkin’ to me, young lady! Or I’ll give you ten of these…” he scolds before bringing his palm down harshly onto the sensitive skin of your ass, making you gasp in surprise. He grabs your chin tightly before continuing, “and ten Hail Mary’s, I’ll make you say each one with my cock down your throat.” You clutch at your chest like you’d never been so offended, but the words caused you nothing but arousal as your cunt began to drip at the thought.

“You really are a naughty boy.” You purr, shaking your head as if in disappointment. You were both so deep in your own little world that you didn’t hear the footsteps outside the confessional door.

The handle was jiggled and quickly ripped open as a loud gasp rang out from behind you.

“Sister!” The nun hisses in absolute disbelief and disgust. The tone of her judgment awoke something deep inside of you that you thought had been buried. You hop off of Eddie’s lap, his spent cock plopping out and falling back onto his lower stomach. You quickly pull the habit over your head as Eddie stands up to inch himself back into his pants.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” The nun you now recognize as Sister Claudia, snarls with a look of revulsion.

Eddie swiftly takes your hand and pulls you away, abandoning your veil and his vestment. His now shirtless and tattooed chest on display for the judgmental nun.

Without another thought you throw her the middle finger as you and Eddie run down the row of pews and out the heavy doors.

You weren’t sure where you were headed, but as long as it was with him. You were ready for the new journey.

#— 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fic #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x y/n

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fairyysoup · 8 months

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the devil i know

♫ series playlist ♫ series tag

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: To summon a demon at a crossroads, simply cast a circle, make an offering, and recite an incantation. What happens from that point on is subject to your desire... and the demon's.

In which the reader makes a pact with Eddie, a crossroads demon, for power and protection. He takes it a little too seriously.

cw: explicit, smut, dubcon elements, monsterfucking!!, making a deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, way more plot than you'd expect, sacrilegious themes, horror, witch!reader, reader is 21+ in modern day, eddie is immortal, coercion (a bit), sex pact, marking, possessive behavior, demonic possession, murder, there are MANY minor character deaths, animal death, trauma, depictions of physical and emotional abuse, graphic depictions of violence, bullying/harassment, reader is ostracized by her very religious hometown, dark comedy, tfw your accidental boyfriend is a demon who is obsessed with you bc he doesn't know how to be normal about anything ever, dead dove: do not eat

please check individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

READ HERE

#releasing this as a lil teaser #this is the first time i'm doing ANYTHING like this #pls clap lol #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #demon!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #tdik!fic #roses*#masterlist #halloween 2023

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radioactiveparker · 23 days

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The Breakfast Club - Eddie Munson X Cheerleader!Reader (Mini Series)

Eddie Munson X Fem!Cheerleader!Reader - Enemies to Lovers

Summary: Five high school students from different walks of life endure a Saturday detention under a power-hungry principal. Each has a chance to tell his or her story, making the others see them a little differently. And when the day ends, they question whether school will ever be the same. (A retelling of The Breakfast Club, written and directed by John Hughes.)

Series Warnings: Enemies to lovers / All Characters Are 18+ / Strong Language / Sex References / Mentions of Abuse (physical and emotional) / Cheating / Bad Relationships / Dysfunctional Families / Arguing / Materialism / Kleptomania / Stereotyping / Sexual Orientations / Drug Use / Mentions of Alcohol / Smoking / Pyromania and Fire / References to Demonianism and Satanism / References to Religious Beliefs / Social Alienation / Angst / Hurt-Comfort / Use of Y/N (like once or twice) / Eddie is a complete asshole

A/N: This mini series is set in its own little world, so it does not follow the Stranger Things timeline, and I have taken some creative liberties with most characters. Yes, they are all still in high school (final year and 18+), and yes, some of the events don't match up - just forget everything you knew about Stranger Things, it's easier that way haha.

“...And these children that you spit on as they try to change their worlds are immune to your consultations. They’re quite aware of what they’re going through...” - David Bowie

Masterlist:

Part One - These Children That You Spit On

Part Two - Low Tolerance For Dehydration

Part Three - Hallway Vision

Part Four - ???? (Coming Soon)

Part Five - ???? (Coming Soon)

Taglist: @cruwushes @the-ch0sen-on3 @namelesshumanperson @ali-r3n @cadence73 @munsonssweets @ahoyyharrington @mewchiili @yourdailymemedelivery @httpsunflowers @b-irock @coolglittercornbae @sav12321 @cumslutforaemond @siriuslysmoking @learninglinesintherainn @peaches-roses-sins @lodeddiperrodrick @catherinnn @lilocapoca @minniedreamers @melaninjhs @chaosfrogsonfire @levylovegood @bowsforsienna @rcailleachcola

Let me know if you want to be tagged x

#the breakfast club #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson mini series #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #eddie stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson smut #enemies to lovers #eddie munson enemies to lovers #radioactiveparker #masterlist #radioactiveparker masterlist

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eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 2 months

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆 (𝑫𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒂'𝒔 𝑬𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏)

I wanted to do this cute little writing challenge @carolmunson created. You can find the rules here

CW: Eddie munson x reader, fluff. New relationship. Mention of weed at least once. suggestive theme toward the end, but it's nothing bad, really. A little moment of self depreciation.

WC:1.9k

prompt rules: the scene: a romantic night in at the trailer.

props included/mentioned (in passing or can hold bigger meaning): a throw pillow, vanilla frosting, a small notebook. dialogue included (can be manipulated slightly if needed, can be placed in any order): "i ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?" ; "aw, don't be like that. that's not even true." ; "and you like that?" ; "if you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem."

A/n: Not proofread, so please ignore any mistakes. My first time doing a writing challenge, and this one was too adorable to pass up.

5:00 pm

Eddie was busy rushing around the trailer, making sure it was clean and perfect before you came over. You and him haven't been dating for too long now. He still wanted to make a good impression on you. His original plan was to take you out on a nice romantic date, but as his luck would have it, he just couldn't afford to right now.

So he opted to suggest for you to come by and have a nice romantic date at his place instead. Which you were all for. Eddie zoomed around the place with a tiny notebook in his hand. He had literally everything planned out for how the night is supposed to go.

He even cooked and baked for you. He doesn't even do that for himself. He was dead serious about you. No more chickening out just because he's scared of the possibility of getting hurt.

You met at the Hideout in town when you first moved to Hawkins. He helped get you a job there by sweet talking the owner. Since then, he's been following you around like a lost puppy

Eddie finished having the entire living room set up for you two. Throw pillows everywhere along with extra blankets. Little tea light candles on saucer plates are scattered about. He kicked his uncle wayne out hours ago to set everything up for your date. He wanted the mood and setting to be just how envisioned it.

He would religiously check his watch over and over again. You weren't late by any means. Eddie was just getting impatient. He wanted you here so bad. He needed you to see what all he's done.

5:30 pm rolls around.

Soft knocks on his door alerted that you were finally here.

You were standing on his porch, waiting for him to answer. You still held the little note he left you after work in your hand.

Hey, babe, I hope you're still ready for our date tonight. I know I am. You don't need to bring anything but yourself. I have everything we need. Miss you already.

- Eddie ᡣ𐭩

You reread it as you waited for him to open up for you. You didn't want to just barge in even though he's told you many times you absolutely could.

You knock again.

"Comin" His muffled voice yelled from inside. You could hear his feet pounding on the floor as he swung open the door.

"Hey!" You greeted with a big smile. "Can I come in?"

He opened the door fully ,ushering you inside with a slight bow. "Shit, yeah, come in. come in."

You walked in and stood by the front door, looking around, you noticed how he decorated and cleaned up for you. You smiled to yourself thinking about all the trouble he's gone through tonight just for you.

"You can have a seat or keep me company in the kitchen." He stood next to you but kept some distance.

"I'd love to. Ya need me to help with anything?" You walked slowly behind him to stand behind the counter.

Eddie definitely didn't want you to help. The only thing he needed you to do was simply be here. That's it. That's all he needed. Your presence and showing up were enough for him.

"Nope." He shook his head, continuing to spread vanilla frosting on the cupcakes he made.

You could tell he was nervous. He shouldn't be. While you haven't been dating for long, you figured you two were past being nervous around each other. Eddie did warn you that he wasn't always the best at relationships. He tried to be. He truly did. His fears of heartbreak and rejection are what held him back from opening up to someone. He wanted to change all of that with you. You still gave him a chance despite all of that.

There was silence for a couple of minutes as you stand next time. "Sooo, whatcha cookin? smells good."

"Spaghetti and for dessert homemade cupcakes straight from Betty crocker herself." Eddie glanced your way to see if he got a smile from you. Even better, he got a laugh out of you.

"Do you mind if I have one now?" You batted your lashes at him. You loved innocently flirting with him. He would get all flustered, and his cheeks would get red.

He looked between you and the cupcakes that he attempted at frosting. "Sure." He couldn't say no.

He was sucker for you already. You had him wrapped around your finger, and you didn't even know it.

You picked up a tiny cupcake that was covered in ninety percent icing. You took a big bite, getting the vanilla frosting all over your lips and nose. Eddie watched in amusement with a small blush on his cheeks.

"Hang on, let me do something." He leans forward, giving the tip of your nose a quick kiss. "You had some frosting from the cupcake-"

Your face got hot as you realized he was kissing away the frosting.

"I have icing on my lips, too." You teased. You wanted to poke the bear and see how far you could go. Eddie took the hint and knew you were messing with him.

He rolled his eyes. "Fine." He puckered up his lips to give you a sweet kiss. "The frosting tastes way better this way."

You can tell he's loosening up the longer you're alone with him. At first, he seemed on edge. As if he was still trying his hardest to impress you. Or to do his best and not scare you off. He didn't have to worry about a thing. You were just as serious about him as he was about you.

You noticed a small black notebook on the counter next to splatters of spaghetti sauce. You sneakily make your way over to it and have peak while he's busy. His eyes were trained on making little smiley faces on the cupcakes. Flipping through the pages, you saw how he wrote down tonight's schedule for your date. He had everything planned out down to if he'd ask you to spend the night or let you leave.

Turning the next page, you found little love notes scribbled through made out to you. You glance his way, and he's still busy huming to himself while adding sprinkled to the cupcakes. You closed it and sneakily put it back. The tiny notebook seemed very personal from the quick glimpse you got from it. Either way, your heart was melting at the thought of Eddie wanting this night to be perfect.

"I figured we could chill out in the living room while we eat. Watch some movies, too."Eddie spoke up.

"Sounds perfect to me." You stepped out of the kitchen to lounge back on his couch.

Eddie followed behind you with two big bowls of spaghetti he made. "I'll get the drinks for us. Anything special? Water? Soda?"

You grabbed your bowl from his hands. "Got any Doctor Pepper?"

"I suuuuure do." He winked.

He rushed back in with a beer in one hand and a plastic cup full of ice with your drink in the other. "I ran out of like, nice cups, Is this okay?"

"Yes, Eddie I wasn't expecting to drink, Dr. Pepper from a champagne glass." You carefully took your drink.

"Listen -" He paused, sitting next to you. "I just want you to know you mean a lot to me. And if i could provide it, all of your drinks would be poured in some fancy ass cup." He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. He felt awkward after saying that, but it was all true.

Eddie really wasn't a pro at this sort of thing. he hoped by now you knew how special already are to him. Even with his shitty analogies. He hoped you got the message.

"That was...one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me." You took a big sip, Dr Pepper smiling in your cup.

"You're such a smartass."

Now, it was his turn to laugh. He got up and went over to the tv, picking up the three movies he "rented."

"Went to family video got a couple of things to watch - and a special one for later." He wiggled his eyebrows. The "special one" was literally Star Wars. He's been dying to watch it with you ever since you told you never seen it.

You rolled your eyes. "That guy Steve give you a deal?"

"Sure did. All I had to do was give an ounce for free." Eddie held up three VHS tapes in one hand, showing his victory.

"Okay, then what movie are we watching first?" You nodded, taking the throw pillow next to you in your lap.

"What about critters?" He suggested.

You shook your head and grimaced. "Eww !no, that movie is stupid it's just a bunch of hairballs attacking people."

Eddie snorts, popping the movie into the vcr anyway." Now you know how my uncle wayne feels cleaning out our shower drain."

You fake gagged. The last thing you want to imagine is globs of Eddie's hair being pulled from a shower drain as you eat.

"So, ummm, I was thinking," it was your turn to get a nervous now. "Are you free tomorrow?"

He frowned. "No. I wish. I have my D&D club to...morrow." He started to hesitate through speaking.

"D&d club?" You repeated. "Dungeons and Dragons? That kind of D&d?"

"Yep." He spoke a little too loud and a little too fast.

The intro to the movie is already playing, but neither one of you are interested.

"And you like that sort of stuff?" You quickly realized how that probably came off wrong, and it's not how you intended. "I mean, you just never mentioned it before."

Truth is, he doesn't know why he never mentioned it. Maybe it's because he was always told it was just a fantasy game. That he was too old to be playing it. Eddie didn't care what anyone thought of him except for you. Which deep down is probably why he didn't tell you.

"Yeah, sweetheart, you're dating a bit of a loser." He sighed. Any minute now, he was expecting you to make fun of him. Or call him a loser, too.

That never came.

He shouldn't assume you would see him like that. Primarily over something harmless as playing Dungeon and Dragons.

Make no mistake Eddie didn't view himself as a loser either. He got too accustomed to hearing people calling him that based on the way he dressed and his hobbies. He didn't see himself that way, but others did.

Your face softens "aw don't be like that. That's not even true!"

You looked at him for a moment. Taking in his side profile. You could tell he was slowly slipping into a funk, and you didn't want that.

You by no means have ever thought Eddie was a loser. He was a sweet, gentle, and very caring guy. A little hyper at times. But you loved that about him too.

"I'd like to watch you play sometime. If you wouldn't mind."

Eddies eyes light up. "I could always teach you how to play instead."

"I'd love that. Why didn't you tell me any of this?" You turned your body so you're now facing him. You were still hugging that throw pillow so tight.

"Well, I was trying to play hard to get. if I told you I was a dungeon master for my club-" His tone dripped with sarcasm as he continued on.

He was trying to lighten up the mood a bit more. "You wouldn't be able to keep your hands off me. bad enough, you couldn't seem to resist my gorgeous hair."

Eddie waved a hand through his hair, letting it fly over his shoulder. He was cut short when you decided to take that throw pillow from your lap and thwap the back of his head with it.

"Ow!" He laughed, looking at you in shock.

"Your hair is hard to resist," your tone matching his sarcasm, "and miss." You mumbled under your breath.

"Oh please, I'm irresistible." He chuckled.

You went to go strike him again with the pillow, but this time, he caught it.

"If you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem." Eddie playfully warned, snatching the throw pillow from your hands.

"Oooh, and what exactly are you gonna do about it?" You taunted.

"I dunno maybe kiss you again. Maybe I'll touch you a little bit, see if I can get you to squirm." He smirked and bit his lip, waiting for your reaction.

That shy nervous wreck of a man that greeted you at the front door was long now.

Your eyes widened as you huffed. "Shut up, Eddie."

"Thought so, now watch the movie our date isn't over yet."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #writing challenge #eddie munson fluff

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jo-harrington · 3 months

Text

Leave of Absence (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie has royally fucked everything up and he needs to fix it. But after an unexpected emergency back home, he steps up to be there for Reader, just like she's always there for him.

Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.05

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Slow burn, mutual pining, angsty, emotional, fluffy, family problems, death in the family, loss, grief, pain and comfort, road trip, avoidance of feelings, Minor religious themes, mention of Catholic Church/Reader's family is Catholic but no overarching catholicism (that's what my other story is for)

Note: Woof ok this was an uphill battle FOR A YEAR. I'm gonna say the reason that Store Manager Verse exists in its present form is because of THIS CHAPTER RIGHT HERE. Before I could bring my two silly babies here to this moment, they needed to have some serious foundations laid down. Is it the best chapter? Probably not. But I'm incredibly happy that it's here and it's done.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other Eddie stories.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

He was nervous.

"Stacey."

Of course he was nervous.

"Freak."

And what did he do when he was nervous? He talked.

"Hey now, I'm wounded," Eddie laid a hand across his chest, trying to keep the cool guy exterior. "Calling me a freak? Did I or did I not just help you with that flat tire last week?"

He was surprised when Stacey paused, a barb surely caught on the end of her tongue. She even looked a little embarrassed for a moment before her own frosty expression returned and she had the decency to look down her nose at him.

Sticking to the status quo.

"I know you're trying to put my boss under a love spell or hypnosis or something," she rolled her eyes. "So don't act like you would have helped any other time if she hadn't asked. Gotta keep her buttered up so you can get in her pants. Gag."

The typical stab of insult was welcome; the rest of it...wasn't. Not when it came to you. Not after what happened on Sunday. Not when he was nervous.

Sunday...

What started out as a normal night for the two of you had quickly become a nightmare. For him at least.

Well...it had been a dream at first. Hanging out. Food, laughter, music; it was nothing out of the norm for a Sunday night together. But then he had to go and suggest a little weed, where you had some kind of...bad reaction. To try and get your mind off the panic that had quickly taken over your body...he'd done the first thing that came to mind.

The only thing that came to mind lately when you were around.

He kissed you.

And he kept kissing you because you hadn't pushed him away. In fact, you’d kissed him harder.

For minutes or hours, he couldn't quite tell, he was overjoyed and he basked in being surrounded by you, in finding pleasure with you.

Finding pleasure. God, there was that poet's heart Mrs. Mills always told him he had. Almost fucking. Grinding one out on his couch. But yeah...finding pleasure worked too. Because it wasn't just a meaningless romp; he was kind of crazy about you, so of course it was gonna be special. Poetic.

How long had he been on the edge about confessing his feelings and ruining your friendship? He was the only one to blame when it came to keeping his mouth shut; Kyle had been telling him to just ask you out and plant one on you forever. And then Eddie did and it was perfect.

Until it wasn't. Until Wayne came home and Eddie had seen the panic and the fear and the...realization in your eyes, and he knew how badly he'd fucked up. Let alone the fact that you immediately ran away.

You’d been avoiding him for a few days. “Avoiding him,” as though school and work hadn't been putting you on opposite schedules. Still, there were no phone calls. No waiting to take your breaks with him. Only awkward glances as he passed your store on the way to start his shift, or a strained smile as you passed each other in the parking lot as he was coming and you were going.

And now Stacey was…being Stacey.

Had you told her? Complained about him? Made it known to your employees that the two of you had made a huge mistake.

No you would never…

Still, his nerves got the better of him and although he didn’t want to seem desperate, especially around Stacey of all people, he was.

"...did she say that or..." He paused and shook his head. "Where is your boss anyway? She’s supposed to close tonight right?”

Stacey looked a little unsure again and this time it made his stomach turn.

People were usually nervous around Eddie, but he had grown plenty used to that reaction from a wide array of classmates and neighbors.

Once again, when it came to you, especially given the circumstances, things were different. Maybe that's what was happening here? Maybe Stacey knew something he didn't, and you'd told her not to say anything so you could let him down easily.

Eddie was generally a level-headed guy but sometimes...sometimes...it didn't matter if he had a level head because the entire world was tipping on its side.

Who had you told? Stacey for sure...maybe Chrissy? Chrissy always avoided him at school thanks to his resident freak status, Starcourt Mall be damned. What about Mindy? Mindy was your only other confidante outside of him; what did she know? Had she convinced you to...to what? Dump him as a friend? Take the time you needed to avoid him? Somewhere between Sunday and today, had you finally come to the realization that he had been dreading all along. That he wasn't worth your time?

"Um, yeah,” Stacey finally replied and Eddie blinked himself back to reality. She picked at her cuticles and avoided his eyes. Never a good sign. “Well she was supposed to but Mindy was here when I clocked in. She's sick or something, I don't know. Mindy wouldn't say exactly...but she never calls out so..."

“Well where’s Mindy now?” he asked, almost desperately.

“She’s finishing up her break in the back,” she explained with a nod. “I can go see if she’s done.”

She disappeared into the stockroom, leaving him alone in the store.

He was unsure how to feel. Relief coursed through him; you weren’t avoiding him, you were simply not here. But on the other hand, what if you weren't here because you were avoiding him?

What if Stacey didn't know anything but Mindy did. Because no, you never called off. Ever. A fact that you had told him when he suggested playing hooky one busy Saturday when you were overwhelmed by a never-ending mid shift.

“I never leave early. I never take a sick day.”

“Well, shit, did you have perfect attendance in school too?”

“Uhm,” you hesitated, biting your lip naughtily. “I’m not at will to say.”

“Oh, you bad girl.”

"If it isn't our resident Van Halen impersonator," Mindy greeted as she walked out of the stockroom. Her usual sing-songs mom voice replaced by a gentler one as she smiled at him solemnly. "She's taking a few sick days. Should be back in time for your night out on Sunday, I hope."

"She's sick?" Eddie asked skeptically. "Wasn’t she here yesterday, she looked fi--"

"Why don't you give her a call," she insisted. She glanced over to the stock room door and as Eddie tracked her gaze, he saw Stacey eavesdropping. "Actually I was gonna stop by after work. Why don't you go? That way it's not a game of telephone.

"I'm sure she could really use a friend right now."

---

Eddie had never been inside of your apartment before.

He knew where you lived, sure; he'd dropped you off or picked you up a few times, especially once the two of you started planning dates outings outside of the usual Sundays. He'd never even rang the bell, if he was being honest. You usually watched out the window eagerly when you were expecting him to arrive.

The realization hit him as he stood there at the little residential door between the bakery and the furniture store, staring at your name on a little Dymo punch label next to the buzzer that he'd just jammed his finger into, and it filled him with doubt.

You'd been to the trailer a few times. Seen all of his favorite places, tried all of his favorite foods. Listened patiently to his insecurities and issues. Still, you seemed to keep him at arms length, if he didn't even know what your apartment looked like; did you have posters on the walls or pictures of your family? What color was your couch? Or the towels in your bathroom?

He knew so much about you but did he really know you, and did you even want him to?

The door buzzed open and Eddie took the stairs up to your landing two at a time, all the while worrying and overthinking: You weren't expecting him and he was beginning to doubt that you even wanted him here in the first place. Sure, Mindy told him to go over...but was this taking it a step too far?

He started preparing an apology as he closed the final few distance to your door and it swung open--

"I'm sorry I fucked up, I didn't mean to break your trust. I'll do anything...anything...if you'll just forgive me. If you just give me another chance."

--and he saw the sorry state you were in.

Hair and clothes mussed, eyes bloodshot and puffy, a bundle of black fabric clenched tightly in your hands; the shine of tears and snot was accentuated by the incandescent lights in the hallway.

"Eddie," you whispered in a strained, broken voice, then you dropped the fabric to cross the threshold of your apartment and bury your face into his shirt. He panicked for a moment, arms held uselessly at his sides as your tears penetrated the worn fabric at his shoulder, but he quickly engulfed you in a hug.

"I'm sorry," you both spoke over one another, then you pulled back and stared him straight in the eye. "You're sorry? I'm sorry."

"No," you shook your head. "I'm sorry. I...I should have done better, I shouldn't have--"

"I crossed a line and I ruined our friendship and--"

You both continued talking over one another, each half-listening to what the other had to say as you got your own apologies out, until you both synced back up again.

"I fucked up and I'm sorry."

Your shoulders and chests heaved from the cacophony of emotion and a tense laugh was shared between the two of you. Then Eddie came to a realization.

"If you're sorry..." he frowned and let his eyes rake over you again. "If you thought that you hurt or scared me--which you didn't, by the way. It was...it was me, my mistake--why are you crying?"

You worried your lip for a second and a lone tear escaped your eye and trailed down your cheek; his hand immediately came up so he could thumb it away.

"Mindy told me you were sick," he muttered, taking advantage of the proximity to be a little gentler, a little smaller than he was used to being, so you could put your trust in him again. "What happened?"

"Uhm..." you croaked. "I'm not sick. I'm just taking a few sick days. Bereavement days...actually. Little leave of absence. Just through the end of the weekend."

The word was distantly familiar to him; the memories, though, would stay with him forever. Rick picking him up from school, a phone call from Wayne to his boss. An appointment for all three of them to get suits rented...and then some flowers ordered. Shiny shoes that he could see his teary-eyed reflection in.

He swallowed painfully and watched you do the same as you prepared your confession.

"My...uh...my grandpa died last night."

And before he knew it, it was 12 hours later. 12 hours that he spent relatively quietly.

He let you fill the silence; let you talk and cry, only opening his mouth to comfort you when the realization hit again and it got to be too much.

He helped you pack your bag for the trip back home. That was when your grief finally turned into anger.

Towards your family. Towards yourself.

"I feel like it's my fault," you sighed as you showed him how to find a pair of tights that didn’t have runs in them, whatever that meant. "I was the only one who took care of him. Doctor's appointments, took him on walks, made sure he didn't have the food he wasn't supposed to. The works. And I left. It's my fault he's gone. At least, that's the way Michael made it sound on the phone."

Eddie almost didn't catch the last part, said under your breath as you stuffed a shiny pair of shoes into your duffel bag, but he did. He wasn't going to let you do this to yourself; how many times over the years had he questioned how he might have been able to keep his mom from dying? On those days where he needed her most. He knew he couldn't stop you from those thoughts, at least not now but he could do his best to fight them away until you could do it yourself.

"Michael," he spoke up, startling you with the realization that he heard. "That's your brother right?"

"Older brother," you nodded slowly.

"Sounds like a shithead."

"Yeah," you let out the briefest laugh and then fiddled with the zipper tab. "He kind of is."

You complained about perfect Michael and his perfect life until your stomach rumbled and Eddie offered to order dinner for the two of you. When you mentioned that you hadn't eaten all day, he made sure you had more than your fill of beef lo mein and garlic string beans as Monty Hall played on the television.

At a certain point, your takeout carton made it to the coffee table and you started to doze off as your head rested on his shoulder. It was a relief, but only for a second, because you startled back awake and dumped all the clothes out of your bag again.

"I didn't pack the right dress," you muttered. "Aunt Amelia's gonna say something about it. I just know."

So Eddie stayed up with you all night as you packed and unpacked and packed again, uncaring that he had school in the morning or Hellfire that night. Fuck it all. It didn’t matter. None of the doubts and self-hatred and worry that had plagued him all week since Sunday night even crossed his mind. All that he worried about was making sure you weren't alone.

When dawn came, and you tiredly tried to wave him out of your apartment so that he could get ready for class and you could hit the road, he pulled you into his arms and just...held you.

He closed his eyes and rocked you back and forth as you hummed softly and gripped the back of his t-shirt tightly beneath his jacket.

He thought of all the things that he could say in that moment...

Drive safe, call me tonight so I know you got there, I'm sorry, take it easy on yourself, it's not your fault.

...but none of them were able to fall from his lips.

"Welp," you sighed. "This is it."

But neither of you moved.

"Thank you for coming over Eddie. I really really appreciate it."

Still nothing. No forward momentum, no motivation to move on to the rest of the day without one another, no reassuring words from him to give you the strength you needed to go forth alone, and no will for him to leave you.

You'd both be ready when you were ready, it seemed.

But as you finally pulled away from him, and he thought about you getting in your car and driving for what might be one of the toughest weekends of your life, all he managed to say...

"Why don't I come with you? I know it's not a road trip or fun or anything. I know I have school and work but...fuck it. We can stop at the trailer, I'll leave a note for Wayne and grab the nicest clothes I own, and...I'll come with you. I just...I don't want you doing this all alone."

...resulted in him sitting in the passenger's seat of your car for 5 hours as you zoomed down the highway away from his whole life in Indiana to the great unknown of Chicago.

---

You talked for a majority of the drive.

Eddie already knew some things about your family—strict parents, pesky brothers, too many cousins than he could keep track of—but you seemed to want to prepare him because he would effectively meet all of them.

"Big Catholic family and a funeral," you glanced at him from the corner of your eye and shot a tense smile. “It's a lot. You sure you still want to come?”

You’d done that throughout the drive too, asked him if he was sure he wanted to come with you. He’d joked several times already that you’d have to leave him on the side of the road, which you wouldn’t, or turn back altogether if he chickened out.

Besides, he already called Jeff when you stopped at his place to let him grab some clothes, and canceled Hellfire; he wouldn’t chicken out for anything. He needed to be here for you.

If he was being honest, yes he was nervous. He hadn’t met any girlfriends' families before or anything, and this whole situation wasn’t exactly the way he’d ever imagined meeting yours. As you crossed the state border into Illinois, though, your breath got shallow and your hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, and Eddie wondered if you were looking for a way out because you never wanted the two parts of your life—family and friends—to clash.

“I don’t, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I know I’m not someone that…families approve of or anything, if that's why you keep asking if I want to be here.”

"It's not that--" you tried to interject.

"And I know we're not dating or anything but..." he trailed off awkwardly and then cleared his throat.

Well that was one way of sticking his foot in his mouth.

Your head was half turned towards him, jaw dropped, eyes darting back and forth from the road to him.

The thought of opening the car door and bailing as you zoomed down the highway briefly crossed his mind because he fucked up. Why would he say something like that? It was because he was a big dingus, actually, the biggest.

"Uh, Eddie listen--"

"No," he interrupted you again. "Sweetheart I'm sorry, that's...that wasn't fair of me. I didn't mean...I just..."

"No it's ok, we should ta--"

"I just thought that...I know I pretty much intruded on this trip, but I wanted to be here for you. But if me being here is gonna cause more problems for you...I mean damn, I don't mind taking a Greyhound back to Hawkins even. But more than anything, I want to make sure you're alright."

He nervously picked at the loose threads on the holes at his knees and was surprised when you took a hand off the steering wheel and grabbed his.

"Do you know," you whispered, voice barely audible. "I think I would have turned back by now if I tried to come alone. Michael on the phone...god I don't know how my dad's gonna be...or my aunt. I don't want to have to deal with all of that. But I know I need to be there...it's for my Papa, I have to be there.

"It's hard to go home when you've moved someplace else. When you've started to find home somewhere else. And I wasn't gonna say anything. I wasn't gonna ask you--it's too much to ask--but I secretly kind of hoped that you would ask to come along. And I'll never be able to really thank you, Eddie, for wanting to be here. For me.

"But thank you," you shot him a smile and squeezed his hand tightly.

He swallowed thickly and squeezed right back.

"I'll be here for as long as you need me to be, sweetheart. As long as you want me to be."

---

The weekend was a whirlwind, and honestly, Eddie knew he wasn't going to be able to make heads or tails of it until the two of you got home on Sunday night.

The first surprise, shortly after your heartfelt moment in the car, was the fact that you didn't actually live in Chicago. You'd been approaching the city on I-90, you even pointed out the Sears Tower to him. Then you got on an exit and drove for another 20 minutes down North Avenue.

"I feel like I've been lied to," he sniffed petulantly.

"I told you I'm from the suburbs before," you chuckled at his antics. "And it might as well be Chicago, it's all Cook County."

"We're not even driving North, how is this North Avenue?"

"We don't have time for a history lesson, we'll be there soon."

Still, it was exciting. Not exactly what he pictured in his head from watching shows on TV or seeing news reels about the city, but nonetheless different from what he was used to in Hawkins and that was the part he liked.

At a certain point, you reached a stretch of road that featured certain destinations that would live in Eddie's imagination until he could ask you about them--KiddieLand Amusement Park, Riviera Lanes, and Winston Plaza--and Eddie noticed your hands started to shake.

"You ok? There's plenty of places to pull over," he suggested. "I can drive the rest of the way."

"No it's ok," you said and swung a left-hand turn onto a residential street with houses that sort-of all looked the same, sort-of all looked different. "We're here."

You parked on the street in front of a house that you noted belonged to your aunt, and then led him down a narrow sidewalk to the backyard of the neighboring house, where a kid gangly enough to rival Mike Wheeler sat in a plastic lawn chair with headphones on, arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes closed.

"Jimmy," you called to him and then kicked his foot. "Jimmy. James Joseph, wake up."

"I'm awake," he startled, knocked the headphones down so they sat around his neck, and stood up. Even with one hand rubbing his eye, your brother's resemblance to you was obvious, and a sense of dread washed over Eddie.

And so it began...meeting your family.

Jimmy was probably the best introduction of them all--there was an ease between the two of you, even with the snide jabs and banter back and forth--and that extended to Eddie. Especially when Jimmy realized that he and Eddie were wearing the same shirt.

"Don't let him fool you, he's a dweeb," you announced when Jimmy got excited over a shared love for Judas Priest, and Eddie hoped you meant your brother, but he couldn't be too sure you weren't referring to him.

There was a brief respite as you both rested for a minute, changed clothes, and ate a plate of some sort of casserole from the packed shelves of the avocado fridge in your grandpa's kitchen. Then it was an onslaught, a domino effect of faces and names that gradually got more important as you got back into the car to head towards the funeral home.

A sea of strange faces that smiled and hugged you and then looked over at Eddie in question, but not in an unwelcome way, and he was glad he'd pilfered a black scrunchie from your bag to tie his hair back respectfully.

You introduced him to this old coworker of your Papa and that great-aunt from Minneapolis and this cousin. He even got to meet your old store manager--a stern, short, blonde woman with victory rolls and shimmering black eyeshadow--who'd come to pay her respects after she saw your Papa's obituary in the newspaper; she honestly scared Eddie a little, but she made him laugh, which meant she was good in his book.

It was all reminiscent of meeting people after his mom died once upon a time, the only other funeral he'd ever been to. When people called and came out of the woodwork in an overwhelming number to offer their condolences. He had been young and sad then, but he was older, wiser, and tougher now. He shook hands and said "nice to meet you" and when people questioned whether he was a boyfriend, Eddie insisted he was just a friend who wanted to be here for you.

It wasn't a lie; still he got a skeptical gaze from at least two elderly women who tutted once they were out of earshot.

Eventually, you got to the front of the room, to the row of chairs that held your immediate family, and after a few tearful hugs, Eddie finally met your parents, your aunt and uncle, and your older brother.

He was surprised to hear "I've heard a lot about you" come from your mother's mouth, but was not surprised to hear the "no funny business under my roof" from your father after a clap on the shoulder. Your uncle said nothing after a short “hello”, just let your aunt do all the talking, and all she could talk about was your appearance.

"What are you doing, honey? What is this you're wearing? For Papa's wake? I hope you plan to wear something a little more modest for my father's funeral tomorrow. And your friend? A leather jacket? A little casual don't you think? What's that dear? Yes, nice to meet you too Edward. Thank you for coming."

Your brother Michael, though...Michael was a douchebag to put it in polite terms, and Eddie could tell that, unlike with Jimmy, the relationship between you was tense.

"You're late" he sniffed judgmentally instead of a greeting.

"We hit traffic and needed to change," you snarked right back.

"So you stopped off at home? Where's Jim? Why couldn't you get him here?"

"You know how he is at these things, he'll show up before they close up for the night. You remember how he was when Nana died. And now he's Mr. Tough Guy. He doesn't like to cry."

Back and forth the two of you went, Michael's accusations and your tense responses. Eddie could feel himself get more and more irritated the harsher it got, the angrier he felt you become. If it was anything other than a funeral--a wake, what was the difference--he would have started in on your brother several minutes ago to protect you.

And he was still tempted to.

But it was like a switch was flipped as someone else approached, and he watched as you changed right before his very eyes. As all the irritation and vulnerabilities left you, and in their place...was the Store Manager version of you he knew and sort of despised. Cold and stiff and everything he knew you weren't by the grace of becoming your friend.

Regardless, it was startling to see.

At the end of the night as Eddie settled into the second twin bed in what used to be Michael and Jimmy's shared room, Eddie realized that your customer service persona had been present for most of the evening, and had only slipped in the presence of those few family members that could see right past it.

Could they see past it? Or was it that you simply couldn't hide behind it with them?

For the whole time he'd known you, Eddie had often wondered what had driven you to Indiana. The job, sure, but...you'd left everything you'd known behind. And hell, for all the times that he wanted to get the hell out of Hawkins, he knew he couldn't leave Wayne or Rick for very long. In his heart he knew the day he finally left, he'd need to be back quite often to see them.

Now, though...when it came to you, he started to understand.

---

The next day, the day of the funeral, you couldn't stop shaking.

Eddie had been nervously second guessing the black jeans--the only non-ripped pair he owned--and Wayne's borrowed dress shirt when he saw you digging through your bag, trembling. It seemed like you were trying to hide it, kept your body moving and grabbing for something, but he noticed immediately,

He snatched the car keys out of your hands before you could get a solid grasp on them when it was time to go.

"It's alright," he reassured you. "Just tell me where I'm going and I'll get us there."

He thought it would be back to the funeral home, but instead you gave him directions to the church. A big old building with stained glass windows and a large statue of the Virgin Mary out in the front.

He could hear the organ music of the hymns emanating from within, and on the hour, the bells from the tower beside the chapel became deafening. For all the Catholic school girl jokes he made at your expense, he didn't realize you were Catholic Catholic.

"You sure I'm not gonna burst into flames if I set foot inside?" he joked to try and ease your nerves and his, but you just shook your head. He watched and suddenly felt helpless, as you began to shake more and worry your bottom lip with your teeth; he was supposed to be here to support you, to reassure you, and instead you looked ready to keel over. "Hey, it'll be ok."

"Yeah," you nodded tensely. "Yeah, let's just go inside."

You didn't make a move though, just rocked onto the toes of your shiny Mary Janes and looked on as tons of people filtered into the church.

Tons of people that, once again, reminded him of the people that had come to pay their respects for his mom. Eddie remembered being there, shaking in his shoes, trying to keep a straight-face, to be strong. To not be a baby because he was 10 years old.

It was just like you said about Jimmy the previous night; big tough guy, didn't want to cr--

Oh.

Realization hit Eddie. The culmination of all the other realizations that had been mounting over the past what? 48 hours? Maybe the past week? The two of you were more alike than he realized. Eddie had just noticed how you'd put up this strong front since you'd been home; the comfortable, safe Store Manager facade was starting to crack. Hadn't he just told you the story about his mom's funeral? How he'd fallen in love with metal because Rick had realized that he needed to process his grief? That he needed to lash out? To cry?

Here he was, trying to get you to laugh, when instead he should have been doing the opposite. But how was he gonna get you to cry? You didn't even cry much at the wake when you'd placed your hand on top of the shiny casket that held your Papa within.

Maybe it just hadn't hit you yet?

Alright, change of plans.

"Your Papa knew a lot of people," Eddie noted, gesturing towards the funeral-goers.

"He did," you agreed, and he watched as your shoulders lost the slightest bit of tension. "He was...I mean you met my cousin last night. The one who wants to run for Mayor."

"Yeah, he's got that yuppie thing about him."

"Well, my Papa could have been Mayor if he wanted," you said with the most conviction he'd ever heard in your voice. "He just didn't want to. Which means he deserved it even more. He was the nicest neighbor, the best friend. He went and played competitive Bocce at the civic center and fundraised for charity and canned his own peaches to give to people."

On and on, you talked about Papa's recipe for this and his idea for that and...

"And the way he fucking chain smoked god damn it Eddie," you hit his arm as he pulled his cigarettes from the back pocket of his jeans.

Eddie thought that, at the very least, an emotional story would be the thing that would set you over the edge. Instead it was the pack of Marlboro Reds that he'd picked up when you had stopped for gas about halfway through the drive.

You hit his arm a few times, as you often did when you tried to playfully admonish him for this or that, then your face crumpled. Your shaking ceased as you collapsed against him and buried your face against his shoulder once again, just like you had when he first arrived at your apartment on Thursday night.

He dropped the cigarettes and folded his arms around you, pulled you into the safety of your friendship when it seemed like there wasn't anything safe out there for you right now; when you'd just lost one of the safe places you had in the world.

He whispered sweet words--comforts and reassurances--and he made you laugh once by threatening to punch your brother if he tried to make a scene.

"I'll do it," he goaded you. "I don't care if he's in mourning too. He's insufferable. Hate that guy. Never coming back to Chicago ever if he's still in town. You hear that? I might have to leave right now."

"No," you tugged him closer to you, and he reveled in the feeling. "You're staying right here. You promised."

"I did," he agreed.

The tense hold you had on him got looser and you hiccuped the last few tears you had.

A few yards away, a hearse pulled up to the curb in front of the church, and your brothers and several of your cousins went to start hauling the casket inside.

"You ready to go in?" Eddie asked. "You don't have to...but..."

"No," you shook your head and pulled back from him. "I'm ok. I'm ready."

"Good."

He waited for you to make the first move once again, but before you did, you took his hand in yours and squeezed.

"He would have been...so happy to have met you, Eddie," you looked at him earnestly. "I told him all about you. I think it hurts a little more...knowing that he didn't get the chance."

He squeezed your hand right back and smiled.

"I'm sad I didn't get the chance either. Guess I'm gonna have to work extra hard not to go to Hell so I can shake his hand in Heaven."

You snorted and pushed him away with a soft jackass then pulled him into the church with you saying he would have made the same joke.

---

The next morning, you and Eddie made a stealthy getaway.

Your father had tried to get you both to go to church with them again and you politely declined.

"We need to get on the road so we don't get back too late. I have to open tomorrow," you made the excuse.

Honestly Eddie was grateful; all the sitting and standing and kneeling...he hadn't gotten that much exercise since gym class Freshman year.

But as you soared back down North Avenue, you made a detour.

"I know this wasn't supposed to be a fun trip," you explained. "If you're up for it, we can make the drive back whenever...maybe during spring break or something? The least I can do before we head back to Hawkins, to thank you for coming, is give you a taste of good Chicago food. Especially after casseroles and funeral home sandwiches all weekend.

"It is Sunday, after all."

And that's how Eddie found himself having his first authentic Chicago style hot dog. Sitting on a picnic bench outside, under a red and yellow striped umbrella, the ambient sounds of cars zooming and your banter back and forth the perfect backdrop.

"No ketchup, are you kidding me right now Eddie?" you swatted his hand.

"Why do they have ketchup if they don't want it on the hot dog," he argued.

"It's for the fries and the fries only. You need to have the whole experience. A hot dog with everything, and ketchup on the fries only."

He watched as you unwrapped your hotdog and began picking through the toppings. Hypocrite.

"Wait, I thought you said you needed to have the whole experience, why are you taking the peppers off."

"I don't like the peppers."

"Are you kidding me right now?" Eddie scoffed. "Gonna have to take your Chicago Card away. Oh wait, I'm sorry. Suburb card."

"Oh my god, just eat. Before I leave you here."

He took his first bite and his tastebuds sang, as you munched on a French fry with a cheeky smile.

And Eddie was happy. Happy to be here with you. Sundays were his favorite days, hands down, and he would do everything in his power to keep them that way.

It might not have been the happiest weekend, there might still be some unanswered questions between the two of you. But you were here with him and you were still friends, and after everything that had happened, that's all Eddie could ask for.

Next Part: Closing Time

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst #stranger things fic #Eddie munson #store manager verse

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