#Eddie x afab reader
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The Nightmare Factory
an Eddie Munson x Reader series
The Fabric of Moonbeams
Masterlist
18+Only for mature themes, mention of sleep disorders and sleeping medication, longing, afab!reader, astral travel, horror icons. wc: 4.2.
a/n: there are some mind-bending moments in here, along with typical nightmare!eddie silliness. I initially thought I'd just write a very simple blurb series about the different ways Eddie appeared to reader to try and scare them. Now that this romance is starting to flesh out, I feel like we have much more to explore, so this will not end on Halloween, as I had originally planned. I have a very cool apocalyptic dream planned for the next chapter, where reader and Eddie spend a few days together (enemies to lovers because reader does not recognize him at first), but I wanted this to be something fun for spooky season.
Eddie got demoted to Ominous Thuds & Ghostly Whispers status after the whole Headless Horseman debacle. Not because Steve or Saul narced on him, but because the eye in the nightmare sky sees everything.
He tried tapping the morse code that Wayne taught him on your bedroom wall one night, but only succeeded in making you sleep upright in the chair in your living room with all of the lights on. You had dark circles under your eyes the next day, and almost dozed off at your keyboard.
You spent a lot of time looking at the sketch you had done of him, and the description of the headless horseman dream that you remembered with fascinating clarity. You could close your eyes and smell the soap and leather of his skin now, and you could see the way his mouth moved when he spoke to you. He knew your name, and you felt like you knew him.
You found a book at the library called, “My boyfriend, My Nightmare” about a woman who believed she was in a relationship with a man in her dreams for years. No one believed her, of course, and she was diagnosed with a particular type of rare disorder that had her on such heavy sleeping medication that it was impossible to remember her dreams, if she even had them at all.
You sank down on a soft chair and almost read the entire thing in one sitting. According to this woman, there is a place called The Nightmare Factory where your nightmares punch a clock and take lunch breaks together and collect a paycheck. Apparently, it sits on a separate plane of existence, and you go there when you sleep. Nightmares can exist during waking hours as well, the author said, and you sat up straight to read that paragraph.
“The membrane that keeps our worlds apart begins to dissolve when you are able to perceive the nightmares, when you begin to understand that there is no true distinction between reality and dreams.”
“If you can imagine it, it exists somewhere in possibility,” the author continued. “The Nightmare Factory workers are a form of entertainment to save us from the true horrors of human existence.”
What ever happened to the woman? Did she ever get to be with the man she fell in love with in her nightmares? You skipped to the last chapter, and skimmed a few pages until you found what you were looking for.
Her final words were very vague, but she admitted to going off of her prescribed sleeping medication, which made her have insomnia for a week, but then she started to dream again.
“I know that no one will believe me, and that’s fine, I did not write this to convince anyone. I’m having it published through a private company to help those who might find themselves in a similar situation.
By the time you read this, I will be gone.
The physical particles of my body have a hard time assimilating when I return from dreams now, and one day soon, I will stay there with him and not return through the secret door. I’m not sure if I will ever be able to get back to this astral plane as anything more than a visitor, so please, if you are able to cross over, find me.”
You checked the clock on the wall, knowing you should head home, and then you found a few more books to take with you. One was a manual on how to decipher your dreams, and the other was another memoir, though not as detailed, that someone had written about moving through the dream world with your physical body.
That’s impossible, you mused to yourself.
But still, some strange blossom of hope in your gut moved you to tuck it under your arm.
Meanwhile, Eddie flirted his way into the 7am Unexplained Voices & Creaking Stairs class by offering to service the teacher’s car for free. She was a ghostly apparition who wore glasses and a pair of gloves to give students a hint to her presence. She finally accepted after some hesitation, knowing full well that there was a waitlist.
Anyway, her ghostmobile was not only serviced, but detailed, and there Eddie was, in the front row, bouncing his knee, eager to learn anything and everything he could.
His band played a show at the Hideout that night. The Hideout in Eddie’s dimension was a place where a lot of Nightmare Factory workers went after their shifts, so it often looked like the bar scene from Star Wars, but with ghouls. The factory was the biggest employer for a thirty mile radius, and everyone who grew up in Hawkinsville had worked there at least once in their life.
It had been difficult when Eddie and Wayne first moved there when he was young. Eddie was what they called “a normie”, meaning he was not born into the nightmare life. He hadn’t been raised by evil clowns or wolves or demons who walked on goat legs. He’d picked up shapeshifting pretty fast though, and he’d learned to make his eyes go completely black whenever he wanted to by the time he was ten.
There were more than four drunks at the place that night, Eddie counted at least six, and then there were a few normies at a table, but he didn’t recognize them. The bartender had a beer ready for him and slid it to the end of the bar before giving him a “thumbs up” motion. Corroded Coffin did not get paid by the venue to play on Tuesday nights, so the beer was always on the house. They had a tip jar at the edge of the stage that usually only had a couple bucks in it by the end of the evening, or a sprinkle of loose change.
They were halfway through the set when Eddie looked out into the crowd and saw you.
He blinked hard, squeezing his eyes shut for a beat, but when he opened them again, he saw that it was really you—standing there, staring back at him, plain as day.
Sure, the room was dark and filled with smoke, but there seemed to be some type of luminescence around you.
Eddie cleared his throat into the mic and wiped his hair off his sweaty forehead, waiting to make sure to make sure you weren’t a mirage for the thirsty man that he was. Some shrill feedback sounded through the speakers, and he mumbled an apology to the crowd.
You lifted your hand up slowly to wave at him, and you mouthed a little, “hi,” as a smile twitched across your lips.
But this time, it was Eddie who woke up.
He was back in his own bed, gasping for air, wanting to cry, wanting to return, needing to know how you had made it into his dream.
You were looking for him now. Somewhere, behind the scenes of time and space, an invisible membrane was getting thinner.
—------
“Are you coming or what?” Your friend Ellie turned to see that you had stopped short at the entrance to the Haunted House attraction you were about to enter. You’d already paid, and had your hand stamped, but all of a sudden you wanted to be back in your bed, reading.
You loved Halloween, but you weren’t a huge fan of jump scares, unless they were coming from that guy you kept dreaming about, the one named Eddie.
You wrote his name down in cursive and blocked letters all over the inside of your notebook, wanting to press it into the wrinkles of your brain. It had been weeks since you last saw him, and every night you hit the pillow, you were hopeful.
“I’m coming,” you jogged a bit to catch up, listening to the evil, mechanical cackling and high-pitched screams coming from inside.
You caught up to her and stayed close. There were strobe lights inside and menacing figures loomed in the narrow hallway before you turned a corner into a dining room full of people with decapitated heads. A few scare actors jumped out to lurch at you from dark corners while thunderous organ music played.
After the next room, there was a shuffle of people as one of the animatronic spiders dropped down from the ceiling, and one of the scare actors with a pig mask blocked your path right when the hallway split, so you lost Ellie, and all of a sudden, you were alone.
You spun in a circle and called Ellie’s name.
Surely you’d still be able to hear the sounds from the haunt? But everything was quiet, the crowd was gone, and the noises from earlier were muffled, as if coming from far away.
Panic rose in your throat as you felt along the wall for a light switch or a door. You stumbled around a black, velvet curtain and caught sight of the glowing EXIT sign with a rush of relief.
“Ellie? Anybody?” You eyes were having a hard time adjusting to the inky darkness, but the illumination from the sign gave you hope
This was fine, you’d wait for the other’s outside and tell them you had to duck out because you weren’t feeling well, which was not a complete lie.
Beyond the door were aged, wooden stairs that went down. A single light bulb dangled from the ceiling to offer a weak, ocre glow. You didn’t remember climbing stairs to get into the building, but you must’ve been mistaken.
You hurried down the steps, hearing the door slam shut behind you with unexpected force, enough to shake the walls.
Something didn’t feel right; the further you went down on the creaking steps, the darker and danker it seemed to get. There was a sudden heat emanating and you could make out some soft rattling and hissing sounds.
By the time you realized you’d gone down into a sealed basement, it was too late.
It wasn’t just a basement, though—it was a…boiler room?
There were metal tanks producing steam mounted with temperature gauges, and you couldn’t see to the other side of the space because they were massive.
“Hello?” You took a tentative step forward, looking around the concrete walls for some type of door to get out of the building. Your heart was in your throat, and your breathing was getting rapid as your eyes jerked from side to side like a scared rabbit.
You wrapped your arms around yourself. “Can anyone hear me? I got turned around and I’d like to leave now.”
There came a high pitched scraping then, like nails on a chalkboard, and it was so shrill, you had to cover your ears.
“I can hear you just fine,” a deep, gravely voice chuckled from somewhere to your right.
Your attention snapped in that direction. Instinct was telling you to start backing up, to get further away, to go bolt up the stairs, but that’s not what you did—you just froze there.
It wasn’t long before you spotted a pair of glowing eyes peering at you from between two of the pipes, against the far wall.
There was a person standing there.
It had to be one of the scare actors, down there on their break, or maybe this was a part of the haunt? But where was everyone else? And why was there a huge, poorly lit boiler room in the basement of that old house?
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he spoke in an evil sneer, like a villain in a cartoon.
“This isn’t funny,” you shouted. “I just want to get out of here, please.”
He gave another diabolical cackle, and then there was the sound of nails on a chalkboard again.
The man in the basement with you stepped into view with a flourish, brandishing the long, metal daggers on his hand, flexing each finger for you to see each one individually; the tips were sharp and the blades caught the light. He had on an old, brown fedora, a green and red sweater, and his skin was covered in scar tissue from severe burns.
You were down in that boiler room with Freddy Krueger.
The scream you let out as he charged toward you might’ve cracked fissures in the concrete.
You spun on your heel—
—and landed face first into the body of the person that had been standing behind you. You felt the ragged, torn nature of a shirt under your cheek as whoever it was had enormous height, and then you pushed back and looked up in time to see a hockey mask with black eyes staring down at you, expressionless. His shoulders were broad and his body massive. Out to the side, he brandished a gleaming machete that was the length of your arm.
“Hi baby, get behind me!” The person in the Jason Voorhees mask said, sounding slightly echoed and muffled. The look he had was the same as in the movies, but this one had curly, almost frizzy dark hair that was long past his shoulders.
That voice…it was Eddie.
It was your Eddie.
You stammered a partial question, but then you were already moving, letting his arm guide you around so that his body acted as a shield from Freddy who was cackling and swiping his finger knives around; you could hear the sharp whistle of air against the metal.
You held on to the hips of Voorhees Eddie from behind and peeked under his raised arm to look at Freddy. This Eddie in front of you was tall and massive, much more so than you remembered from the last dream you had.
“What the hell are you doing here, maggot?” The Freddy Krueger guy growled, saliva dripping from his yellow teeth as his pocked skin stretched over his cheeks like curdled milk.
“Don’t worry about it, Jerry,” Eddie growled with disdain, throwing his machete into the other hand with deft precision. It twirled in the air and he caught it by the handle. “This one is mine.”
“Oh, really?” The guy who looked like Freddy suddenly had a normal voice again, and his shoulders relaxed, dropping his hands to his sides. “I didn’t know, wow man, I’m sorry. Did I get the schedules mixed up?”
Voorhees Eddie relaxed too, dropping his free hand down to hold your hip, making sure you were still there. “No, you’re good,” Eddie’s voice was light now, soft, even. “I’m just filling in for Alex, he’s on vacation for a few days.”
“Paid leave?” Freddy/Jerry asked. You were trying to match his face with the voice coming out, but it wasn’t working.
“I think so,” Eddie nodded once.
“Must be nice to have seniority,” Jerry put his knives hand on his hip and scratched under his hat with the other. “Okay well, I’m going to head over to the next job. See ya, Munson.”
And with that, a black space the size of a door opened behind Jerry and he stepped through it. The door disappeared, and so did he.
“Eddie?” You said his name over the hiss of the boilers as he turned to you. You could see the realistically gray, rotting flesh of his Voorhees skin under his mask. “What are you doing in a boiler room looking like Jason Voorhees?”
“Workin’,” he smiled and dropped the machete to the concrete with a clang to be able to snake his arms around you so that his fingers clasped at your lower back. “I’ve been missing you.”
His new height was throwing you off as you tilted your head back to look up at him.
“I recognized your voice this time,” you smiled, proud of yourself.
He lowered his head to touch the mask to your forehead. “I didn’t mean to disappear on you. It took me a while to be able to have physical form again, to be able to see you like this.”
“It’s okay, I know,” you slid your hands up the torn clothing over his broad chest.
“You know?” He pulled back, searching your face.
“I’ve been reading this book, about where you work,” you wet your lips. “That Nightmare Factory place. I’ve been trying to figure out…how to see you more often.”
Eddie’s heart jumped. He put his hand over yours on his chest and held it there, and you could see that even as Jason Voorhees, he still wore his signature metal rings. “You’d do that for me?”
“Of course,” you got a bit bashful and looked down. “I want to…get to know you better.”
“I saw you the other night in my dream,” he rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand.
You stared up into his eye sockets of his mask, and your face lit up. “That was cool, wasn’t it? I couldn’t believe I found you. There is a sort of meditation in the book that I did about a thousand times, and it was only for a second. I think it’s a type of astral projection. You looked really good on stage.”
Eddie tucked his chin almost bashfully, moving his hand to interlace his fingers with yours. “You thought I looked good?”
Eddie had been learning too. Learning new skills to come to you in your nightmares, but also learning about a rare case where a nightmare worker crossed into your dimension and stayed there. They were never heard from again, and some say they didn’t survive the crossover and their particles exploded into the ether, but Eddie chose to believe that was a lie to keep people from trying.
Suddenly, there was a banging sound, muffled and far away, but you could feel it thudding in your chest. You checked around the room, thinking it was noise from one of the pipes, but Eddie dropped your hand and squeezed your arm, checking his digital wrist watch with a sigh like he usually did when he was about to make his exit.
Back at the factory, someone was banging their fist against the transportation door, shouting for Eddie. He tightened the muscles in his jaw, frustrated that there never seemed to be enough time. It sounded a whole lot like Kevin.
He had to figure something out soon, before his heart exploded.
“Are you in trouble again?” Now that you knew a bit more about what he did, you feared he might get penalized, and you wouldn’t lay eyes on him for another month. The pounding continued intermittedly, and you faintly heard someone call out Eddie’s name.
“No, not this time, sweetheart,” Eddie stretched, puffing his chest out a bit, and then bent forward to put the mouth of the mask on your forehead. You could feel his warm breath on your skin there. “But my shift is over. I have to get back before my timer goes off.”
“Before your timer goes off? Sounds like you’re in a microwave.”
“Well,” he tipped his head to the side, thoughtfully. “The technology is similar, I suppose, but yeah, I hate to leave you like this.”
You hugged Eddie Voorhees as hard as you could and spoke into his chest. “Maybe next time, I’ll find you first.”
The distant banging got louder, more persistent.
He bent down to grab the machete, pushed a button on his watch, and the same square, black opening in the air appeared.
There was a second there when you considered just running and jumping through his door, but then you remembered a part in the book when it mentioned how that type of jarring dimensional travel could give Dreamers what scuba divers called “the bends” from the dramatic change in pressure.
You were about to tell him you’d miss him, or goodbye, or something else, but then, in a blink, you were jolted back to your senses—
—you were back in the hallway of the haunt right after the spider had dropped from the ceiling.
Wait a minute. How had that happened?
You were at a dead halt, stopping the flow of people traffic as you looked down at your hands and over at Ellie who had turned around to motion you to keep moving as another scare actor dressed like a deranged doctor covered in blood jumped from the corner.
When you got home, you rushed to your desk to open the book, and flipped to the chapter called “The fabric of moonbeams”. It talked about “dream pockets” that occurred like daydreams when you were linked to someone. The author didn’t know exactly how to explain it, but she suspected it had something to do with sudden surges of adrenaline that caused a dimensional shift, especially if you had a connection to someone at the factory.
You sketched out Eddie again that night, this time, it was what you remembered from when you’d visited him for a few seconds at The Hideout. Flanked by his bandmates, he was strumming the strings on his guitar, looking down with one knee bent out and his hair hanging down.
You wanted to recapture the scene as realistically as possible so that you could study it to prepare for the next time you tried to visit him. Next time, maybe you'd step into his world and not his dream.
Maybe next time, he’d kiss you again.
----
Happy Halloween weekend to all of you who are enjoying this series, thank you for reading 🧡
#Eddie Munson#Eddie Munson series#The Nightmare Factory#nightmare!eddie#Halloween fic#Eddie Munson fic#Eddie Munson fluff#Eddie x afab reader#Eddie munson x reader
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bright eyes | eddie munson x reader
summary you're a new neighbour in the trailer park, on a sunny day Eddie's daughter bumps into you. (4.1k)
warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!
a/n: i think i might make this a little series if you guys would like that <3 part 2 part 3
It was warm outside.
Early spring had its advantages, flowers started to bloom, the sun shone brighter and longer, and the rain fell only at night when you had trouble sleeping.
You had just moved here, and you still weren’t sure or knew that much, so you tended to keep to yourself. You’d go to work, to the little shop on main street, back to your little trailer.
You were sitting down on your little kitchen floor, looking at the way your washing machine turned around, waiting for your hair to dry after the shower, so you could sleep with fresh sheets tonight. You enjoyed this sort of calmness, a new found happiness that you weren’t aware you could achieve.
You placed the white sheets on the little laundry basket that you had lying around, cloth pins scattered on its bottom. You held it, against your waist, your left hand grabbing it while you struggled to open the door.
You whispered along the words of a song that was playing from a beat up radio from across the street, taking your time, as you placed every sheet perfectly, enjoying the sun shining on your face. It was all going as well as it could.
“Hi.”
It startled you, not as much as it could, the little voice coming from down below you, it forced you to look down, a little girl looked up at you, half hiding behind your sheets, she was wearing a black faded black sabbath shirt that didn’t belong to her, the seam of it well past her knees, white socks on her feet, her hair was black and curly, half hiding her eyes.
“Oh. Hi.” You smiled at her, the sweetest tone you could fathom came out of your lips. She became shy for a second, as she grabbed one of your clothes pins and handed it to you. “Thank you, buddy.” You smiled as you grabbed it, placing it on top of one of your cushion covers, even if it didn’t need an extra one. “You’ll get your socks dirty.” You point out.
She smiled in a shy manner, covering her face with her hands as she nodded.
“Bug?” She turned around as soon as she heard his voice. Her arms went up, demanding to be held by him. “There you are!” He had a soft and playful tone, as he grabbed her.
You felt stuck there for a second. He was tall, with curly dark hair, strong decorated by tattoos arms that flex when he held her, close to his chest. The same smile she seemed to have was imprinted on his face. It’s not that he is attractive -which he undeniably is- but he seems to shine, in a beautiful light, warmer than the sun.
“I’m sorry if she annoyed you, we were playing hide and seek.” His words come out way too quicker than he had wanted them to, with an apologetic look on his face as he swayed his body, her giggles invading the space between you.
“She didn’t, not at all.” You smiled at him, before looking back at her, she was giggling at you now, and a soft spot was found deep inside your heart. “She was helping me do laundry, actually.” You point out to the extra wood clothespin that she had given you.
“Oh, so you can help the pretty lady and not me?” He jokes as he tickles her belly, the infectious laughter growing louder and stronger as he holds his face closer to hers.
But you don’t really listen, the only thing in your mind right now is his voice calling you pretty.
pretty, pretty, pretty.
Your cheeks become warmer, pinker.
As soon as he notices, he realises what he had said.
He had called you pretty before even introducing himself. He feels like a fool, he meets a pretty girl and is only focused on the one in his arms.
He tries to fix it, a soft grin dedicated to you as a nervous scoff leaves his lips.
You don’t really mind the silence, or the opportunity to look at him, and his dark chocolate eyes, but you have the impulse to tell him your name, and you do, with an upside down smile that passes down to him.
“I’m Eddie.” He says in return, grabbing your hand not thinking much of it, though he didn’t think he’d feel a sort of sparks as soon as your hand met his. To be fair, neither did you. “This little bug is Lua.” He adds, as he lets go of your hand, slowly, so his fingers can tickle her again, making her giggle once more, her tiny hands grabbing his hair in a playful manner.
“Hi Lua.” It’s not that your voice comes out shy, but the high pitched baby voice makes your tone come out with a bit of a treble, as if nervousness that she wouldn’t like you took over. “Thanks for helping me with laundry.” You add, as she hides, pushing her face against Eddie’s chest, the pureness of that gesture makes your smile wider.
If you weren’t so focused on Lua’s reactions, you would have caught Eddie lost into you, as he had never experienced such kindness or softness from someone that wasn’t already close.
He was used to the stares, and the silent judgment from everyone, way before Lua came into his life, and mostly it came from people around his age, or way older. His constant thought behind a string of ‘shut up grandpa’ and ‘go back to your retirement home’ that he never said out loud. The world could be mean, but he would never let her little girl know that. At least not yet.
He wasn’t used to this though.
A kind stranger, around his age, that doesn’t really judge, and interacts in a playful manner with her. It was more than he could fathom.
“‘r welcome.” Lua mumbled as she looked up from her hiding spot for a second, before burying herself back into his arms.
Eddie’s heart felt full for a moment. Lua wasn’t used to strangers, and she didn't really like to talk out loud to people she wasn’t used to. Though these days she was only used to uncle Way and Stevie, or aunt Rob. So seeing her, not only talking back after you told her something, but having seen her approach you out of her own will, it made his mind stop worrying for just a second. Lua’s social ability was just as good as his in that moment.
The thought made him smile to himself.
“We should check if our’s is done.” He mumbled to Lua’s ear as he started swinging his chest again, hugging her tightly as he felt how she was starting to get heavier. “That way you can stop wearing dada’s shirt.” He looked attentive at your face, waiting for your reaction.
He felt better when he didn’t see nothing but a compassionate smile.
Eddie was also used to people thinking he wasn’t the dad, maybe an uncle, maybe an older brother. Eddie was also used to people opening their eyes wide as soon as they hear dad when referred to him.
But you didn’t.
Truth be told, it did shock you a bit. But the little girl was a carbon copy of him. The same wide smile and wild hair. And the world was mean and complicated enough, you didn’t need to make it harder for someone you had just met.
“We’ll see you around?” He asks, with a hopefulness on his voice that you’re not too sure what it means, or what you actually want it to mean.
“Yeah, I moved in a while ago so…” He nodded as he pointed at the little trailer right in front of yours.
“That’s us.”
“Way!” Lua blurted out as she looked back at where she called home, and Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle and give her a kiss on her temple.
“Yes! And uncle Wayne too.” You noticed that his tone is sweeter, calmer and a bit higher when he talks to the little girl on his arms than when he talks to you. “If you ever need anything…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence, the end of it implied, and you’re left nodding, telling him that if they ever need anything you’re here too, waving bye to Lua as she looks over Eddie’s shoulder, her little hand waving back.
You finish hanging your laundry dry, as you think about what just happened.
You had finally made friends that weren’t work related, and one of them was a baby. You sort of chuckle to yourself. It felt stupid, but it also felt good, knowing someone here, and that someone being nice, and kind.
It felt as if you were finally on the right path.
-
“Bug, please?” Eddie whined for the fourth time, while Lua was still on the higher part of the couch, looking out the window.
She shook her head again, Wednesdays were always the longest days in the Mudson household. Eddie took another big breath, while he looked at his wrist watch once again, afraid he’ll be late if he doesn’t leave soon.
“Okay… You can either stay here with uncle Way, or you can come with dada to the garage. Please?” He bargained, for the last time, begging to some higher power she’ll climb down the sofa.
He could scream out of excitement once she finally did.
“friend?” She asked, in a mumble as she pointed out of the door.
She had been doing that for a while now, ever since Eddie had found Lua in your yard, she kept asking to go see you, for some reason that escaped Eddie’s mind, her little girl seemed to have an infatuation with you.
Eddie sat down on the floor now, and Lua started walking closer to him, he laughed in defeat as she giggled, her little steps approaching him.
“Once I get back from work, deal?”
Eddie held his hand out, waiting for her to shake it as she usually did when she knew she had won whatever she wanted -which happened frequently- but accepted with glee once she tried to hug him, with her usual clumsiness. Her arms not quite reaching the back of his neck until he helped her up.
He enjoyed this little moment.
Holding her close while nothing else was going on. A long day ahead of him that he wasn’t totally ready for, but then again he wasn’t really ready for a lot of things that he ended up being capable of.
Wayne’s steps broke the small intimate moment.
“You made a friend, Lua?” He asked as she giggled at the sight of him, even if he still was half asleep, Wayne always seemed to have more than enough energy for her.
“She did.”
“Who?”
“New girl.” Eddie nodded at the trailer that could be seen through their window.
“Huh.” Wayne had never been a man of many words, but the way his facial expression changed usually left nothing to the imagination. In this case, it was a warning. An overprotective warning.
“She seems nice. Lua approached her.” She smiled, as she always did when she heard her own name. Eddie knew that she liked to be included, no matter what. Maybe that’s why he tried so hard.
“You did?” Wayne’s eyes opened wider, as he squatted down to meet her eye level, she wobbled her way into him, as she giggled once again. She had a secret power, or at least that’s what Eddie thought, to make everyone happy.
“Friend!” She said again, pointing at where she had last seen you.
“Okay bug, see you in a bit?”
“Lo you.” She muttered as she waved bye, Eddie’s heart warmer as he opened the door and blew her a kiss.
“Love you too, bug.” Eddie opened the door, stopping on the frame as he always did, checking his pockets, making sure he had everything he needed with him.
“Kid, if you plan on going over, make sure she’s okay with it. Not a lot of people are.” It was another warning, his left eyebrow raised, his tone sharper. Eddie just nodded.
And before he knew it, he was already on your door, knocking and hoping you’re actually home.
You were, and the nocks on your door wake you up. You had always been a light sleeper. You found your way out of your bed, and you didn’t care if your hair was a bit knotted than usual, messier or that your eyes were still adjusting to the light creeping through your windows. You opened the door and there he was. Tall, handsome Eddie, in his washed up jeans and his white shirt that had some small car grease marks on it. His opened blue short sleeve shirt with the little name tag made you smile internally.
“Sorry.” He muttered, as soon as you made eye contact with him.
He took a second, you stood there, sleep still present on your face and overall demeanor, but what caught his attention -even if he tried not to- were your naked legs, barely covered by an oversized shirt that you evidently used as a sleep shirt. Still, you looked pretty, he thought. He also felt bad that he had woken you up.
“S’kay. Morning.” You half joked as you smiled up at him, your head resting against the door frame, your arms crossed over your chest, the air making you feel a bit colder than you were deep in your sheets.
“Yeah, morning.” He was left speechless. He wasn’t sure why, but all of a sudden he wished he hadn’t knocked. So you could be resting, being face to face with you, he could see the little bags under your eyes, and he imagined how much you were enjoying getting to sleep in.
“You knocked to tell me good morning?” If you hadn’t had a smile on your lips, or your voice wasn’t as sweet and soft as it was, Eddie would have felt even worse. When in reality it made you inexplicably happy that he was the reason you had woken up.
“No, yeah, sorry.” He chuckled in a nervous manner once again. “Uh, Lua has been asking for you, and uh… I’m done at work early today, and if it’s not too weird and if it’s okay we could come for a bit after, don’t worry if you don’t feel like it i-”
“I’d love that.” You cut his nervous and anxious rambling off. “I’m free today, so I can go pick up some things for her?”
Eddie relaxed, his shoulders dropping and his smile finally appearing.
While you had to try hard to hide your excitement.
“You don’t have to…”
“Shut up. She deserves it.”
Even if you weren’t aware of it, that was the best thing you could have said to him. But truth be told, you were actually excited, you had been thinking about him, and the promise of a new friendship since you had met him, so this? It felt like the perfect excuse.
“What time were you thinking?”
“Uh, I dunno, my shift ends at around six, so maybe…”
“I’ll have snacks ready by six then, don’t worry.”
He was way more thankful than he could express, but he tried his best anyway.
“Thank you princess, it means a lot. Truly.” That nickname rang in your ears for a while, the same way it did when he had called you pretty. It was made obvious that you had liked it by the way you were starting to blush.
“Don’t worry Edds.” You stayed just like you were for a second longer. Looking at him, and the way his dimples were showing when he smiled as wide as he did, and a spark in his eyes he seemed to reserve for you. “Hope you have a good day at work.”
He was the one blushing now, and the one he was left with the way you had called him Edds, the sound of your voice present on his ears for a while after he had started driving. It wasn’t until he arrived at the garage, when he realised he was smiling at nothing, like an idiot.
-
You might have gone a bit overboard.
You had gone into town, and before you knew it your fridge was now filled with various juices and milk. The good ones that you usually didn’t buy for yourself. You had thought about baking a cake, but you ended up deciding that that felt too much as a birthday type of treat, so you went for your comfort recipe.
The cookie dough was already done, and you were chopping up the chocolate bar into smaller bits. You hated dark chocolate, so milky sweet one was the only acceptable one.
Morrisey’s voice kept you company as you mutter along the lyrics.
You looked over your little home, you had cleaned, deeply. Afraid that Eddie would judge you, or that Lua would somehow hurt herself or something could happen to her. You tend to do that, over worrying about things you can’t really control.
Then again, Eddie was doing the same thing.
A quick shower, fresh clothes, and hair almost dry. Lua looked up at him with excitement, as he tried to find something else for her to wear. She had a tendency to steal his shirts when he wasn’t there, in an attempt to be close to him, or at least that’s what he thought. So the negotiation began.
“Bug, which one?” On his left hand he had a light blue dress that Joyce gave him a few years ago, on his right he had a newer pair of overalls. She stood there, shaking her head as she hugged the shirt she was already wearing. “You need to get dressed if you want to go see your new friend, bug.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, as soon as she realised they were going to see you, she pointed at the overalls and had no issue getting ready.
Thank god for you, he thought. It had never been that easy, normally Lua hated changing clothes, especially when she was already comfortable. But this time, she didn’t only do it, she helped, and was excited to.
Lua wasted no time, her hands hitting your door as hard as she could, which resulted in soft knocks you still heard.
“Hi.” She beamed up at you, holding her arms open for you, her voice higher than you remembered. It might be her childish excitement, or at least that’s what you think.
“Hi Lua.” You met her level of excitement as you squatted down so you could meet her, her arms trying to hug you, waiting for you to help her get up so she could do it. Used to this type of hug with her dad.
Speaking of, Eddie was speechless. Mainly because Lua doesn’t really hug people that are not him, or Wayne. Steve maybe had gotten two or three hugs, she usually blew kisses. Also he wasn’t sure if you actually wanted them there, or were just being nice, but that doubt went away as soon as he heard your voice, and saw the way you smiled at her.
He also was pretty sure that he could smell cookie dough.
Lua found her way in, passing you by as you greeted Eddie. She didn’t have time to waste, her curiosity always winning. In her defense, your house was full of colour, and she wasn’t used to it. Every pillow was a different colour, and they were everywhere. Your couch was green, which she didn’t even know that was a possibility. Your walls had photos, and posters, and drawings. She had so much to look at she was grinning from ear to ear, laughing as she moved around.
Eddie did the same, in a more discrete manner. He found his way in the middle of your living room, he looked at the stacked shelves, they were full to the brim, various fantasy books that he recognised -mainly because he had already read them- cassette tapes and vinyls also shared a big portion of space. He smiled to himself everytime he knew a group that you seemed to like. Your vhs collection also caught his eye. You, on the other hand, were left there, holding your hands in an anxious manner, not too sure what to do now. Seeing how father and daughter act the same in different ways.
“You’re listening to the Smiths?” He asked, once he caught on to what was playing.
“Oh, yeah, I’ll uh… turn it off.” You became embarrassed, knowing that probably he didn’t like that type of music, or maybe it was too loud. Eddie smiled, shaking his head no.
“No, it’s fine. Lua likes them, that’s all.” You looked down at her, and relaxed once you saw her dancing along. She was moving up and down, kind of in tune with the music.
The little timer started, letting you know that the cookies were now done.
“Lua, you like cookies?” She didn’t even need to say anything, her eyes opened as she heard the word, she walked next to you, Eddie following closely.
He grabbed her up, letting her sit down on the counter. He was grateful all the trailers were the same, that way he knew -kinda- where everything was.
“Carefull, bug. It’s hot.”
“Hot.” She repeated, pointing at the baking sheet that you took out, fresh golden chocolate chips came out. “For me?”
“Well, not all of them.” Eddie answered, with an amused tone in her voice that made you chuckle in response.
“We have to wait for them to cool down a bit.” You told her as you placed them on a plate, the tips of your fingers slightly burning.
“Why?” Her eyes opened in wonder, not really following you.
“‘Cause when they’re too warm, they can give you a belly ache.” You explained to her, earnest in your tone, as you touched your own stomach.
“Only five minutes, bug.” Lua turned around, looking at Eddie with a confused look. “You can wait five minutes right?” She looked at him, slowly. You couldn’t help but chuckle, seeing the way they share the same look between them.
-
You were on the couch.
Eddie didn’t count it as cuddling, not really.
You were just sitting down next to him, his arm brushing yours, as you both looked between the T.V that was playing ‘Arthur and the Stone ’- you had a tendency to collect VHS, and the style and drawings had pulled you to buy it. You didn’t have an excuse until now to watch it, so you were just enjoying it as much as Lua did- and the little one, who was enamored by the story, while she colored in one paper lazily.
Eddie had become a bit too comfortable. His body feeling heavier, warmer, he was on the verge of falling asleep. That same feeling shot sirens on his head. This felt too nice, too normal, too usual. He could get used to this, and that wasn’t good.
He didn’t really know you.
Eddie knew where you lived, how your living room looked, that you worked almost everyday -though he still didn’t know where-, and that you were incredibly nice. And sweet.
Eddie also knew that Lua trusted you, and for now, that was enough.
It was enough that you had taken time out of your day so you could bake them cookies, or buying the expensive juice that you had taken them in as if they had always belonged there.
Lua giggled and Eddie’s eyes opened, seeing how she was pointing at the T.V when the boy turned into a squirrel, and the way she looked up at you, wanting to see your reaction. He was happy, more than he had been in a while.
You were sinking deeper into the cushions. Deeper into him and this familiarity. You could get used to this, but you weren’t unsure if you should. You enjoyed spending time with them, and this was fun, but then again, it was scary. It scared you, the thought of it going wrong, or you doing something you weren’t supposed to, it was a bit too much.
While you were sitting down there, with him that close, his smell lingering in the air, his warmness by your side, the risk of this crush evolving into something else was too much.
You didn’t care. Not at all.
Neither did Eddie. Not even a little bit.
-
part 2 is up!
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Dirty little secret
Summary: Eddie is in desperate need of a fake girlfriend after lying to his band mates about his dream girl.
Warnings: so extremely cheesy, corny, very much classic romcom tropes! Swearing, smut :p not exactly proofread!!
Wc: 11.5k
Y/n walks home, soft rain pattering on the concrete, she watches the drops splash on her black boots. After a long shift at the hideout all she wants to do is get back home to her cozy apartment where she can wash the liquor scent off of her and become useless on her couch.
“Hey, you!” She adjusts her tiny headphones, turning up the volume on her Walkman to drown out any noise around her. “Hey!” She walks a little faster when she spots a van out of her peripheral vision. The van drives slowly, matching her speed. “Hey!” She finally pulls one headphone away from her ear, turning to look at the man.
“What?!” His eyes widen for a second before they return back to normal. “You work at the bar right? The hideout?” She gives him a skeptical look, either he is a regular or a stalker and she doesn’t have the time for either. “Why should I tell you?!” The wavy haired man softly laughs, his ringed hand tapping on the exterior of the old van. “I see you there all the time.”
“Hm…well maybe you’re thinking of someone else?” Y/n picks back up and continues her walk home, but not before she's stopped again. “I need you to do me a favor!” She slowly turns her head back to him, trying to decide if she should give him the time of day or continue on home. “Before you call me crazy and run away, I’m Eddie, my band plays at the hideout every tuesday- you've worked a couple shifts when we play.”
She huffs, but ultimately decides that he might have something valuable to say. “Yeah, so what?”
“So,” he pulls the key out of his van and steps out, feeling the relief of his jeans clad legs finally being stretched. “Just hear me out before you say anything, okay? Basically I'm like the only single one in my band so I kind of…maybe told them that I have a girlfriend?” Eddie finally ends his spell and waits for Y/n’s response. She tosses her arms out a little, letting her hands slap back on her legs. “Sorry about that. What does this have to do with me?”
Eddie gives her a smile, “And that’s where you come in. You are… close enough to the description of what I gave them. So what do you say? Will you be my fake girlfriend?” She blinks at him, her eyes bugging out in disbelief of what she’s hearing. She scoffs, not being able to form any words.
Gulping, she finally musters up a response to this maniac. “Are you serious?! What’s wrong with you? We hardly know each other.” She rubs her forehead, looking back down at the sidewalk.
“Well, yeah. I need this, I’ll pay you back! I’m not sure how, but I promise I’ll make it up to you! And who wouldn’t want to have this.” His hands scan his body, trying to show off what a prize he is. Y/n shakes her head, not that this isn't interesting, and maybe the drama of it all will spice up her ever so boring life of sleeping and working, but she still isn’t sure. “I’ll have to think about it. I’ll call you!”
And with that she makes her way back to her apartment.
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Y/n’s been thinking a lot about that strange encounter with Eddie earlier. He wasn’t a complete stranger, She’s been there a couple times when his band was playing a gig at the hideout but they’ve never had more than a five sentence conversation. She’s gotten into a bad loop of sleeping, working, sleeping, working, she hardly sees friends anymore and she definitely isn’t going out of her way to make any fun just herself, so fake dating really didn’t seem too bad. Maybe this will get her out of the house, and add a little excitement.
She flops open the phone book, finding Eddie’s number and dialing it. She waits for him to pick up, sitting on the counter, picking at her nails. He finally answers and her ear is instantly flooded with the sound of his raspy, sleepy voice. She has to admit, when she heard his tired voice she felt her breath hitch a little.
“What do you want?” He almost growls, his sleepy eyes growing heavier by the second, threatening to close and send him back into a deep sleep. “It’s me, Y/n. I was thinking about our conversation earlier.”
Eddie blinks his eyes back open, “So you call me at one in the morning? Couldn’t this have waited?” Y/n rolls her eyes, but damns herself for continuing to ignore the healthy sleep schedule she so desperately needs. “Well, I was going to agree to it. But maybe it’s just one of those crazy one AM thoughts. Who knows?”
Eddie rubs his hand over his face, rolling his eyes. “Are you doing it or what?” She waits a best before responding, to give herself a second longer to really think it through- but mainly just to leave Eddie waiting. “I’m doing it. But we need to lay down some ground rules. I’ll come over at two tomorrow-“ suddenly she’s interrupted by Eddie’s groggy voice “don’t you mean today?” She shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “I’ll see you at two.”
And just like that, she’s fake dating Eddie Munson.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔.
Y/n knocks on the door or Eddie’s trailer, patiently waiting to hear him walking towards the door. He flings open the door, standing in a pair of sweatpants with his plaid boxers coming out and a cut off tank top with his lower belly slightly peeking out from his hand resting at the top of the door frame.
“Come on in.” His free hand glides out to show her the way and he lets her step inside before shutting the door behind her. “This is my palace. Take a seat on the couch and I’ll be back with refreshments.” He walks down the hallway and soon joins Y/n on the couch with a cigarette between his lips, offering her one then lighting his own. “No thanks.” She moves the pack away from her and sits her bag in her lap.
“What did you call this meeting for?” He pulls his cigarette away from his lips, letting out the white Smokey air.
“If we are going to fake date we are going to do it my way.” Eddie glances at her without moving his head, then looks right back at the television. “We need to ease into it, not packing on the PDA right off the bat, but also seeming comfortable around each other. And I think it would help if we did some sort of test run, maybe I could properly meet these bandmates of yours before we jump in?”
Eddie ashes his cigarette, “Did you major in fake dating or something?”
“Haha, very funny asshole. Do you want to do this or not? You’re trying to act smug but you’re the one who had to lie to his friends about having a girlfriend.” Eddie lets out a sigh, extending his response by taking a long drag from his cigarette. “You’ll properly meet them on Friday.” She nods, jotting it down on her planner.
“We need to lay some ground rules, obviously don’t try to randomly shove your tongue down my throat. I think since it’ll be the first time I'm meeting them let’s just keep it simple, maybe hand holding, a cheek kiss or two. Nothing crazy.” Eddie laughs, leaning forward and crushing his cigarettes in the glass ashtray already full of white and grey ashes and cigarette butts.
“I’m not going to fuck you infront of them or anything, don’t worry. I understand boundaries.” He gives her a smile, faint dimples carving in his cheeks. He’s lucky he’s got a pretty face or she’d storm out right now.
She gives him a disapproving look before shaking her annoyance off and continuing with the plan. “Hugs, hand holding that’s all fine, cheek kisses or whatever- I guess that’s okay all the time. But an actual kiss or anything like that needs a little warning and easing into.”
“Yeah, all sounds good to me. So I’ll see you Friday?”
“See you Friday.”
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Eddie’s van is pretty cozy. Despite the five curbs he’s run over and the ten stop signs he’s blown through, it’s actually been a nice ride. The diner they were meeting at was about fifteen minutes away and Eddie had called her an hour before telling her he was going to pick her up. His van was warm, surprisingly smelt good (she noticed the cherry scented air freshener he hung up), and was actually pretty clean. He had a few books in the back, a water bottle or two and a few cartons of cigarettes in the door- but it had a homey feel.
“Haha, sorry.” Eddie murmurs, making her sling forward as he breaks hard. Thank god for seatbelts.
He pulls into the diner parking lot, looking around to find a parking spot. The diner is pretty cute from the outside, it has. A blue roof and a bright LED sign, large windows giving you a peek into the busy restaurant.
Eddie jumps out, racing to open the door. “They are already here.” He holds a hand out, helping her out of the van. They walk inside, Eddie leading the way to the table the guys were sitting at. “Hey guys,” Eddie gives a little wave, pulling a seat out for Y/n then plopping himself next to her at the table. The diner was bright, checkered floors with red and white booth seats, neon colors everywhere. “This is Y/n, Y/n these are the guys.”
She smiles, shyly tucking her hair behind her ear. A boy with brown feathery hair sticks his hand out, “Hi gorgeous, I’m Gareth.”
Suddenly Eddie was hyper aware of the fact that his band mates were oogling his (fake) girlfriend. He grabs the underside of her chair and pulls her closer, reaching over Y/n and pushing Gareth’s hand down. “And he has a girlfriend.” Eddie stretches his arm in the top of Y/n’s chair, guarding her from the others.
“Well it’s nice to meet you guys! Eddie has told me so much about you.” She smiles, feeling warm and awkward with all the eyes on her. “Like what?” Another one speaks up, staring at her awkwardly. Eddie leans in her ear “That’s Doug. Ignore him.” Y/n softly laughs, “Tons of good stuff! I’ve seen you guys play a couple of times at the hideout. I work there every other day during the week and all weekend. I’m excited to get to know you all a little better.”
“Well, you’ll have tons of time on the trip! I’m Jeff. We’re all so excited to finally meet you, Eddie has really talked you up. I’m bringing my partner, Gareth and Doug are bringing their girlfriends so you won’t have to deal with us alone!” Y/n gives Jeff a sweet smile before turning her head to Eddie, her face instantly changing. “What the fuck is he talking about!?” She whispers, leaning in to whisper in Eddie’s ear.
“We’ll be right back.” Eddie announces to the group before him and Y/n step aside.
“What trio are they talking about?! You didn’t tell me about a trip!” Eddie rubs his face, “We go on a ‘group bonding’ trip every year. That's why I needed you, I couldn’t not bring a girl when everyone else is bringing their partners.” She groans, suddenly growing the urge to stomp her foot and fold her arms like a child.
“When is it?”
“Next week”
“How long will we be gone?”
“Only a week.”
Y/n huffs, rubbing her forehead then crossing her arms. “I think I can swing it. I never miss a day at work and I’m always on time, and I always pick up extra shifts if they need someone so maybe I can talk them into some sort of paid time off?”
Eddie bites at his fingernails, “so you’re coming?”
“I guess so.” Eddie claps, giving her a smile. “You won’t regret it, sweets!”
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It’s a chilly morning, the ground frosted over, chattering teeth and near frozen eyelashes, but with the body heat of five guys, and two girls, Y/n was more than warm. Usually being up at Seven in the morning on such a cold winter morning would have Y/n seething with regret and frustration for agreeing to such early plans, but this morning was quite different already.
Eddie picks her up last, giving her a little extra time to sleep since she had previously made it very clear that if she doesn’t get a full eight hours of sleep she will not be getting out of bed at all and if she is forced she will “reign terror on all of Hawkins”. He tosses her luggage in the back, the other girlfriends already asleep in the back row, and then lets her hop in the passenger seat as they head up to the cabin they rented for the trip.
The boys are loud, and the music they blast was about to give Y/n a major migraine, but it was oddly enjoyable. They had a nice energy to them, they were all smiles and laughs, the good energy was rubbing off on her.
She was looking forward to this week, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, especially if she got some alone time. She’s always thinking she needs to give herself a break since it’s not stop working for her, and this is the week just for that. She’s overpacked but not in her mind, she’s brought anything and everything she needs to make this week's stay as comfortable as she can and she intends to do that. She hopes the cabin has a nice big bathtub so she can use the fancy bath salts she packed.
Eddie turns the music down a couple notches, “having a good time?” He reaches for her hand, and at first she almost pulls it away but reminds herself that they have to act natural. “Yeah, the music is a little loud though.” He laughs, “they’ll be louder than the music will ever get if I try to turn it down. Good luck.”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔
The drive hasn’t been so bad, now that they are an hour into the drive the boys have settled down, the adrenaline and excitement has worn off and now they are a little sleepy. Everyone’s head is either pressed against the window or sagging back onto the headrest of their seats. Y/n huffs, sinking into the passenger seat that is growing evermore uncomfortable by the second. She presses her forehead against the glass of the window, closing her eyes.
Eddie pants her hand and she cracks an eye open. “No you don’t. If I can’t get any sleep you can’t either. You can sleep once we’re at the cabin.” She groans, rubbing her eyes while trying to stretch to the best of her abilities in the limited space. She wracks her brain, trying to recall a time where she agreed to be woken up early, then stay up the whole two hour drive with Eddie while everyone else slept- but she guesses it’s a good thing a girlfriend would do.
“Okay, but” she yawns. “I don’t know if that will last long.”
Eddie turns the music up a little louder, “we’ll stop to get gas soon. Just hang in there for about five more minutes maybe? There should be something coming up.”
A couple more minutes pass by and before y/n knows it Eddie is pulling up to a gas pump. She swings the door open, jumping out. The relief of stretching her legs is unmatched and she paces a couple times.
Everyone stumbles out of the van, everyone equally as excited to be able to stretch their bodies and get some fresh air that wasn’t contaminated by cigarette smoke or the smell of a bunch of twenty year old boys.
As Eddie shoves the nozzle in and starts pumping gas he wraps his arm around Y/n, pulling her into a little hug. She leans in, resting her head against his chest. His hand reaches up to play with her hair and she pulls away from the hug, letting his arm continue to rest around her shoulder and play in her hair.
It is a little awkward to hang on to each other like that but she’s going to have to get used to it if she’s going to survive the week. She came here to do this favor for Eddie, and as much of an annoying asshole he is, she still plans to follow through with this to the best of her abilities.
“You can head in with them.” Eddie says, nodding over to the group that is heading into the gas station to grab whatever road trip snacks they can find. “It’s fine, It would make more sense to stay with you, right? I don’t really do this whole dating thing.” Eddie nods, “Me either. If I’m honest, I’ve never really had a girlfriend. I wasn’t exactly the most popular in high school.”
“Yeah, I had a few dates but they never went anywhere.”
The gang comes out of the store, white bags filled up with different bags of chips, cookies, and different sodas. Eddie tops off the tank, closing it up and opening Y/n’s door before hopping back in and starting up the van to continue their journey up to the cabin.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔
The sudden stop wakes Y/n up, feeling Eddie’s warm hand on her shoulder softly shaking her awake. She rubs her eyes, yawning. “Are we there?” Eddie laughs, “Yeah, we’re here.” She blinks her eyes open. The snow is falling, bundling the dark cabin in a white blanket of snow. It piles up high on the ground and stacks up on the room. “Oh my god, it’s beautiful.” She steps out of the car, pulling zipping her coat up to her chin to hide herself from the bitter cold.
Eddie opens the trunk of the van, pulling out everyone’s luggage. He throws his beat up old duffle bag around his shoulder and then grabs Y/n’s suitcase, lifting it so it doesn’t track snow in. “It’s okay, I’ve got it.” Eddie shakes his head, “I’ve got it, sweets. I’m pretty strong.” He mumbles with a wink, grabbing the key from the mailbox and unlocking the door.
Y/n has to keep her jaw from dropping. The cabin is absolutely beautiful, big and open with warm, dim lighting. There’s a brick fireplace in the living room with a big puffy couch, knit blankets tossed over the back, Sliding glass doors that lead out to a big deck. When you walk in there is a kitchen to your left, a round wooden dining table with glossy cabinets, little green accents all through the kitchen.
Eddie leans forward, “stop gawking and go snatch the best room before anyone else can.” And with that Y/n turns the corner, walking through the hallway and jogging upstairs. All the bedroom doors are open, showing off the perfectly pristine rooms. She peeks through each room until she stumbles upon the biggest one. She opens the door to the bathroom, a nice big bathtub with a standing shower next to it, a big mirror and two sinks.
She would definitely be comfortable here for a week. A big cozy cabin that looks like it’s straight out of a fairytale book, the biggest and nicest room with snow blowing in, she didn’t have anywhere to be or anything to do besides relax. The only downside is that she would have to constantly be putting in a performance when in front of everyone but despite that, it was perfect.
“Well I could get used to this.” She hears Eddie’s deep voice from behind her. Spinning around on her heels, Eddie gives her a quick smile. “Nice huh? And where will you be sleeping? The floor?” Y/n rolls her eyes at him, “No, maybe you should go sleep on the couch downstairs while I take this nice bed.” She pats the king sized bed while Eddie throws their bags on it. “Or maybe there will be a spare room for you?”
It’s Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes. He crosses his arms against his chest, “in all seriousness, let’s just try to make this weekend as easy as possible. And don’t go falling in love with me, sweets.”
She fake gags then opens her suitcase, if she’s going to be staying here for a week she’s going to make it comfortable. She pulls her folded clothes out and shoves them into the dresser, then hangs her sweaters and whatever else she doesn't want getting creased or wrinkled. She takes out all of her toiletries, stashing them in their respective spots in the bathroom.
“I’m going to shower. I want to wash all your cigarette stench off.” Eddie nods, yawning. “Yeah, I’m going to build a fire. The guys are already bitching that they are cold.”
“Okay, I’ll be down soon.” She grabs a change of clothes, something cozy to bundle up in since today they were just getting comfortable in the cabin. “See you later.”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔
Eddie sits next to the fireplace, tossing wood into it to start a fire so everyone will get off his ass about how cold they are.
“So how long have you and Y/n been together?” Jen, Gareth’s girlfriend asks. Eddie rubs his forehead, glancing over at the group who is all huddled on the couch. “Um, about six months I guess?” Maybe that’s how long he has been trying to lie about a girlfriend? He knows it’s pathetic, really, but with the way his friends (even his 16 year old friends) were making him feel about being single was too much that he had to make up some fake girlfriend.
“Awe! You guys are so cute together! How did you meet?” Eddie strikes a match then tosses it in to start the fire. Not exactly how he learned in cub scouts but it was good enough. “We met at the hideout. She works there.” He scratches his face, he’s not really in the mood to try to make up anymore details of his and Y/n's fake relationship.
“Were you playing a gig? That’s so cute! Have you said I love you yet?!” Jen is a nice girl, but god does she ask a lot of questions.
Out of the corner of his eye Eddie sees Y/n walk down the hallway and into the living room to join the rest of the group, and fuck is he happy to see her. “There you are. How was your shower?” Y/n takes her place next to Eddie, sitting by the fireplace. “It was good! I feel a lot better now.”
Now that they are here at the cabin with everyone, maybe they have underestimated how difficult this is going to be. Now that this is the first time everyone is properly meeting Y/n and getting to know them as a couple there will probably be endless questions about their relationship, their future plans, etc.
“Good, good. Now you can relax.” He picks at his nails, closing his eyes to relax.
Every year this trip is the highlight of his year. He loves coming up here and staying in for a week, doing absolutely nothing at all but hanging out with the guys. Usually they have some big fun thing planned, skiing, snowboarding, one year they tried to ice skate but that didn’t go very well, but with the stress of Eddie having to find someone to have a fake relationship with- well, they didn’t really get to plan anything big. But that’s okay, these trips are really all about reconnection and spending some quality time together.
“We were just talking about how cute you and Eddie are!” Y/n gives Jen a polite smile. “Oh I’m sure Eddie just loved that, hm?” She pats Eddie’s chest, relaxing back into the pillows Eddie threw down by the fireplace for him to sit. “I was just asking him some questions, is all. You guys met at the hideout? He said that you work there!”
Y/n glances over at Eddie. “Yeah, he was playing a gig when we met. I guess his whole rockstar thing just kind of drew me in. Love at first sight!”
“Oh, so you guys have said I love you!?” Eddie and Y/n make direct eye contact, and thank god Eddie had a little sketch book out or else they both would’ve been in trouble. He quickly scribbles in the corner of the book, his handwriting spikey and in all caps reading “we’ve been together for 6 months” trying to quickly fill her in on a few things they haven’t gone over due to Jen’s questions.
“Yeah, yeah. What about you and Gareth? Enough about us!” Y/n shifts the conversation, not wanting to get caught up in any confusion or lies. “Enough about you?! This is the first time we’ve met Eddie’s girlfriend! To be honest I didn’t know if we were ever going to meet you, he’s hidden you from us for so long I just want to know everything.”
Y/n wanted to kill Eddie for refusing to go over more plans for this fake dating scheme, but she also wanted to thank him for taking a hundred stops on the trip even though she was annoyed. He made her wake up so early just for him to stop every fifteen minutes and make them get to the cabin at sundown. She blames all the peach tea he was guzzling but she’s so thankful for it at this moment.
“It’s getting kind of late. I think I’m going to head to bed. Tomorrow we’ll have all day to get to know each other, right? Eddie has talked about you so much so I can’t wait to get to know you.” She tries to politely excuse her and Eddie off to bed but she gets pulled back down by Jen’s constant questioning. “It’s only nine! How are you already sleepy?” Jen laughs, repositioning herself to get comfortable to stay up a couple more hours.
“She gets car sick. So I think we’re going to get some shut eye.” He stands up, putting his hands on Y/n’s shoulders and giving them a quick rub as she leads the way off to their room.
Once they get in the room Eddie shuts the door. “What the fuck are we going to do about Jen’s constant questioning?!” Y/n scoffs and shakes her head, dressing down the bed for sleep since they don’t have much else to do. “You’re the one who said it was “dramatic and not necessary” to go over the details! Eddie groans, flopping down on the bed. “This is your fault, Eddie! Don’t get grumpy with me.”
“Shit!”
“Shit is right! We will just have to go over whatever details we can think of tonight.” Eddie stands back up, dropping his pants and ripping his shirt off until he’s just in tube socks and boxers. He slides back in bed, taking his time to get comfortable, ignoring the fact that he’s loudly fluffing his pillow and practically jumping on the bed. Y/n huffs, tossing a body pillow in the middle of the bed to separate their sides.
“How are we supposed to know what the fuck else she’s going to ask us?! She might personally quiz us on facts about each other.” Y/n’s throws her hands in the air, “Oh my god, you’re so dramatic. We just go over simple things that a girlfriend and boyfriend should know about each other! Some family stuff, age, name, the obvious!”
“Well I’m pretty sure we’re the same age, and you know my name!” Eddie tosses and turns trying to get in the perfect spot. “Keep your voice down or they are going to think we’re fighting and question us even more.”
“Okay, my name is Eddie, your name is Y/n, we’re both twenty-two-unless you’re hiding something? You’re favorite thing about me is my gorgeous hair and my favorite thing about you is your personality. Is that solved?”
Y/n’s jaw almost drops at how annoying he can be. “I’m going to bed! I guess we’ll just play this all by ear.”
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Three days into the trip and it’s been a breeze. Eddie and Y/n have had a few hiccups, but nothing to throw them off too hard. Jen got the message and stopped her constant questions, which kind of made them feel bad because she didn’t mean any harm, she’s just a curious cat.
After more arguing they finally settled down and stopped being so stubborn and went over a few things. They both got to know the basics, just simple get to know me icebreakers you would tell about yourself on the first date- not that either of them would really know what to say on a first date, but they tried to fill each other in as best as possible without staying up all night to share their whole life story.
“You know, you snore really fucking loud.” Eddie says, walking out of the bathroom with toothpaste still on his chin. Y/n folds up her clothes, shaking her head. “Well you kick, and you groan, and you drool but I haven’t complained about it.” A smile appears on Eddie’s plump lips as he walks over to what has become his side of the room, digging through his bag to find some clothes for the day.
“You love every second of it.” Y/n raises her eyebrow, “I’ll see you downstairs, weirdo.”
Y/n joins the group downstairs, everyone huddled in the kitchen eating breakfast. “Hey guys” smiles full of pancakes and bacon greet her back. “Where is Eddie?” Jeff asks, looking around to see if he had missed him- which was pretty hard to do since he sticks out like a sore thumb with his crazy dark hair and his loud mouth. “He should be coming down any second!” She grabs a plate, adding two pancakes onto it, a pat of butter, and some maple syrup.
Eddie comes down almost scarily quiet, coming up behind her and kissing her cheek. “Oh thanks for making my plate, sweets!” He takes the plate of pancakes from her, adding on some bacon and a mountain of potatoes. “Gotta fuel up for the day.” He gives his signature smile then shovels a pile of pancakes into his mouth.
Y/n shakes her head, grabbing another plate and making breakfast of her own- again. She joins the rest of the group at the table, sitting down next to Eddie where he shovels food into his mouth like a starved man.
“I can’t believe we still have eleven days left of the trip.” Doug says, a smile on his face. “It’ll be over before we know it. I don’t want it to end!” Y/n turns to look at Eddie, his face just as full of confusion as hers is. “What do you mean eleven days? Are we not leaving Monday morning?” Y/n looks around, waiting for a response while everyone looks at her confused. “What the hell are you talking about?” Eddie says between a mouthful of potatoes.
“I’d like to know too.” Y/n says, her voice slow and confused.
“We’re staying here for two weeks. That’s been the plan all along.” Jeff pipes up, shrugging at Eddie like he’s stupid. “Well who the fuck was going to tell me that?” Eddie gulps down orange juice after then wipes the juice that falls from his plump lips with the back of his ringed hand. “We all decided to add another week to the trip, you were there.” Eddie tosses his hands up in the air and Y/n stands up, grabbing his arm to lead him to the bathroom to talk about whatever the hell was going on.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me we’re staying here for two weeks?!” Eddie scoffs at Y/n, shaking his head. “Obviously I didn’t know either! You think I wouldn’t have told you?” She groans, smacking her hand down on the sink. “Why didn’t you pay attention?!”
Eddie’s jaw drops, throwing his arms in the air. “Maybe if you would have paid more attention you would’ve figured it out!”
Y/n grabs the hand towel, slapping him in the arm with it. “You’re so frustrating!” The room goes silent for a while, both of them thinking how this is going to work out, how they can deal with another week of this without cracking.
Suddenly Y/n hears Eddie’s deep chuckle, shooting her head up to see his arms cross against his chest while he has a crooked smirk on his face. “What?” He continues to laugh, rubbing a hand over his mouth to try to stop the laughter. “Are you done with your fit now?” She’s a little annoyed, but can’t help but crack a smile. All Y/n has to do is let her family know that she will be gone another week so they don’t get worried if they try to call or visit, she needs to call the hideout and let her manager know that she’s going to be gone longer than anticipated. And luckily she has enough to fall back on since she will be out of work for two weeks.
“I think I can swing it.” She rubs her forehead, “Yeah, it’ll be fine.”
Eddie claps his hands together, smiling. “Then let’s get back out there and shove our faces full before we head out today.”
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Thankfully, the group found some stuff to do so they won’t be totally cooped up in the cabin the whole entire trip. The guys want to go to some of the bars around the little town they were staying in, and there are some random touristy spots they wanted to hit, like a snowy hike Eddie seemed excited for, but Y/n is not excited in the slightest. She wasn’t excited for hiking in the freezing cold, ice everywhere, smoke coming from your mouth anytime you speak, teeth chattering.
“Are you almost ready?” Eddie asks, pushing the door to the bathroom where she is getting ready. She gasps, looking back at Eddie. “What the fuck?” A smeared black line is under her eye, blinking fast since the wand hit her pupil. “Um, you’ve got something right here.” She groans, smacking her hand down on the sink, letting her mascara wand fall from her hand.
“You just ruined my makeup, Eddie!” He walks back over to her, lifting his hand up and circling around his eye. “Right there?” She nods, “Yeah, you don’t need all that shit anyways. It just hides your face from me.” Y/n is taken aback, her face gets hot as he walks out of the room.
“What?”
“Five minutes! Come on!” He claps his hands together as she hears him swing the door open and jog down the stairs.
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Y/n feels like an outsider.
Everyone is already well acquainted with each other, having established relationships that have lasted years. The guys are all sticking together and the other two girls have been friends for a while, so Y/n is kind of stuck. She gets along with the other partners, but the only one she’s comfortable enough to talk to is Eddie. So she lingers around behind him while everyone else chats about. She doesn’t mean to leave herself out, or seem rude, but she isn’t sure how to include herself and she doesn’t want to form some bond with these people if she’s never going to see them after this trip.
Eddie clearly enjoys hiking. He’s climbing huge rocks and going above and beyond, nearly causing everyone a heart attack when he fake trips near the edge of a cliff- completely ignoring the ice and snow all around him.
It’s not that Y/n isn’t athletic or necessarily hates hiking, it just isn’t her thing. She feels out of place enough and heavy breathing in the freezing cold in the back of the group is a little humiliating.
Patches of ice cover the big rock steps, everyone carefully trying to avoid them so they don’t slip. Snow falls and covers most of the steps so it’s a big guessing game on where the ice is under the heaps of snow.
Y/n grabs onto the railing they built for people to hold so they wouldn’t fall on the steep stairs. She tracks up the stairs, successfully navigating the rocks. She steps onto the last one and instantly feels unsteady, her foot sliding from under her from the slippery ice under it. She falls on the stairs, smacking one knee on a sharp edge and her chin on the ground.
“Oh fuck!” She hears, already growing more embarrassed than ever at the eyes she knows are on her. Eddie scrambles to help her up, “Careful now!” He whispers as she stumbles. Her eyes well up and she blinks hard to try to keep her tears at bay. She's not sure if the tears are out of embarrassment or the nauseating pain. Eddie sizes up her injuries, wincing and turning her head. “You guys go ahead, we’ll catch up.”
There’s spots of blood in the snow and the knee of her pants is completely soaked through. “C’mon sweetheart. Let’s sit you down.” He takes her hand and leads her to a little bench, throwing his first layer of jackets onto it so she doesn’t have to sit on the wet wood. “Sorry,” Y/n mumbles, feeling bad that Eddie has to stop when he’s clearly enjoying himself to clean up her mess.
“Honey, you don’t need to apologize for anything.” He softly chuckles, thumbing away her tears. “Can I check out your leg?” She nods, wiping her tears away while he shuffles her pants over her knee. “You’re lucky I’ve got all sorts of shit in here.” He pats his large hiking backpack and opens one of the front pockets, pulling out a first aid kit. “We’ve got to stop the bleeding but I’m going to try to clean it up as much as I can.” His tongue peaks out as he rips open some packages, wiping over her knee.
“Ah shit, I think you might need stitches.” She panics, shaking her head. “No, no, no! We’ve still got so much to do!”
“Who cares when you’re hurt? I don’t think anyone will mind if we skip bar hopping to get you taken care of. Now I can play doctor, I’ve had to stitch myself up a few times but I don’t want to risk that on you.” His tongue pokes out again as he bandages up her legs, wrapping it up. “I think that’ll do for now. Now let me see that chin, honey.”
He softly grips at her jaw, looking at the big cut under her chin. “Well, it doesn’t look good, but I think it just needs some cleaning up and you’ll be all better.” He rips open a little alcohol pad, whispering a warning before he wipes her cut clean. He sticks a padded bandage under it and pulls her pant leg back down.
“Okay, wounded soldier is all recovered.” He holds out a hand for her, kissing the top of your head. “Thanks, Eddie.” He rubs her shoulder, throwing his back back on his shoulder. “No problem, sweets. Let’s get back up there. The troops are waiting on us.”
Y/n successfully gets through the hike without any more accidents. Though she is embarrassed about the whole thing, she smiles through it. Eddie holds her hand the rest of the hike to ensure she wont lose her balance and end up injured again.
“Do you wanna go back to the cabin? We don’t have to go out with them.” Y/n shrugs while buckling herself into the van, Eddie starts it up and cranks the heat up to warm their red noses. “No, you’ve already had to hang back. I don’t want to keep you from them anymore.” Eddie leans in, “Truthfully, I don’t want to be their babysitter. So let’s hang back, yeah?” She nods, cracking a small smile. She was kind of relieved that Eddie doesn't want to go out, she wants everyone to have fun but she’s happy that she doesn’t have to hop around to crowded bars with a janky knee all night.
“Yeah.” And with that he drives off, dumping the group to some random bar and heading back to the cabin, Y/n half asleep next to him.
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“Wake up, sleepy head.” Eddie shakes Y/n awake , his hand on her shoulder. “We’re back. Time to get up.” Y/n blinks awake, stretching and rubbing her eyes before sitting back up. “Are we home?” She hears a warm chuckle from Eddie, his lopsided smile making her want to fall back into her cozy sleep. “We’re back at the cabin if that’s what you mean by ‘home’.” She nods, holding her hand out for him so he can help her out.
He leads them to the door. “You really did a number on yourself today, huh?” She nods, “I guess so.”
“That’s okay,” Eddie starts, opening the door and letting her walk through before shutting it behind them. “We can set up on the couch for the night. But first, I should probably double check to make sure you don’t need stitches.” She groans, but leads them to the bathroom nonetheless. Pathetically jumping up on the sink, Eddie knees the floor under her and rolls her pant leg up to investigate her injury again.
He peels the bandage, cleaning it with cool water. “You could use maybe one stitch. But you’ll heal fine without it. I’d do it myself, but you’re much too delicate for that, hm?” She gulps, nodding before he lifts her chin, wiping the dried blood clean. “Let’s keep these bandaged. You want to keep them clean, but you’ll heal them up in no time.” He pats her thigh to let her know she can jump down before he walks off.
Eddie gathers supplies, throwing down a mountain of blankets on the couch, along with all the snacks from the kitchen, and a pile of games he found in one of the hallway closets.
“We’ve got scrabble, monopoly, connect four, guess who, or we can just play D&D?” Y/n rolls her eyes, “What’s with all the baby games? It’s not 1981 anymore.”
Eddie scoffs, “You’re taking a lot of smack for someone who’s got a busted jaw. Shouldn’t it be all locked up or something?” Y/n laughs, plopping down beside him on the big puffy couch. She’s kind of happy that she slipped and busted her knee, if she didn’t they would probably be in a stuffy bar with old drunk men surrounding them who smell strong of liquor and body odor despite the cold temperatures. Without her injury she wouldn’t be wrapped up in a fur blanket on the couch, watching the snowfall in the big cozy cabin.
It’s crazy to think that a couple weeks ago she hardly knew Eddie and now she shared a bed with him every night.
“Let me get a fire going and then we’ll start a game or something? Maybe we can look through their VHS tapes?” Eddie stands up, walking over to the fireplace since there was an extra chill from all the snow piling up outside. “We can do anything. I’m happy as long as I’m on the couch.”
Eddie comes back after lighting the fire, “Well, let’s get this party started.”
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“I’m about to flip this fucking board over!” Eddie groans, smacking his ringed hand onto his forehead. “You chose monopoly don’t get pissed that you’re losing!” Eddie huffs, watching Y/n make her next move.
“I win! I win!” Y/n laughs loudly, sticking her arms up in celebration of her victory. Eddie shakes his head, trying to act mad. He grabs her arms pushing them back down- but she refuses and wrestles him away. Eddie can’t help but laugh along with her, wrestling her arms down. The board falls onto the floor with a clatter and they ignore it, Eddie straddling her legs while they fight. “You cheated! You are a cheater!” Y/n laughs loudly, Eddie smiling down at her. Suddenly his arms give out, the big smile not leaving his face. Y/n opens her eyes, her laugh suddenly fading as she sees Eddie above her.
The silence is loud, only their breathing can be heard before Eddie leans down, slotting his lips between hers.
The door suddenly swings open, making them fly apart like they were caught doing something they shouldn't have been doing. Eddie clears his throat, falling back on the cushion breathless, unable to make eye contact with Y/n.
Caught, both of their cheeks burn red. “Can’t wait until you get to your bedroom?” Doug questions them, letting out a throaty laugh while all the others stand there with smirks on their faces.
They both know that for people who are supposed to be in a relationship this is completely normal, but given their situation they are embarrassed to be caught, especially knowing what could have happened if they weren’t interrupted. “Fuck off, Doug. Don't act like I haven’t caught you two two unspeakable things. In my van too!” Doug gasps and Eddie snickers, walking back to their bedroom and Y/n follows hot on his tail.
Once they get into their bedroom Y/n shuts the door. Eddie stands there, watching her as she rubs her hands against her bare arms. Neither of them are sure what to say, obviously something happened back there and they would both be lying if they say they didn’t feel a spark.
“Well,” Y/n takes a step forward. “I think I’m going to get ready for bed. I shouldn’t be long- if you need the bathroom.” Eddie nods, biting at his fingernails. “Yeah, yeah. Go ahead.”
While she is in the bathroom he paces around the room before sliding his rings off onto this nightstand, leaning back onto the mattress and blowing out a sigh. He rubs his face, “what the fuck are you doing, Eddie?” He asks himself, wondering why he can’t get his thoughts straight. It’s supposed to be a two week thing, after this trip they can just fake a breakup and forget about this whole thing and move on with their lives. Eddie isn’t so sure about that. How can he ever just forget about all the memories he’s already made with her? Today was one of the best days of his life, being able to take care of her, spending the evening playing board games with her and completely letting her win.
“Do you mind if I turn off the light?” He hears her voice from the other side of the room, she stands next to the door, her hand on the switch. “No, go ahead. Let’s hit the hay.”
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A group of girls arrived in the cabin next to them today. The two other girls decided to invite them over to join them since they had a day planned of sitting in the hot tub and getting drunk.
The snow has stopped falling for the first time in their week-long stay, finally crawling up to a tolerable temperature of forty five degrees. Y/n and Eddie have completely ignored the moment they shared last week, taking the weekend to have a little alone time, the girls went out to get pedicures while the guys stayed in and played D&D. It was nice to get to know the girls, Y/n actually really enjoyed talking to them and getting a break from the nerdy guys was pretty nice.
“Okay, we’ve got enough beer for the day.” Eddie says, lifting two twenty four packs of beer and setting them on the table. “You’re joking… right?” Eddie shakes his head, “Duh!”
“Smart ass” Y/n mumbles, shoving the random groceries Eddie had bought into the refrigerator. “What did you say?” Eddie questions with the rise of an eyebrow, walking over to her and peeking at her face. “Oh nothing.” She hums, ignoring him standing behind her.
“Hm, no, I think I heard something!” Y/n shakes her head at Eddie’s words. “Nope, nothing.”
Eddie nods back at her, “Oh! Okay. Sounded like you called me a smart ass but maybe I misheard.” She softly laughs, shrugging. “You’re probably having auditory hallucinations. The beer is already getting to you.”
Eddie cracks a smile, “okay smart ass, go and get your bathing suit on before you end up in the spot next to Doug’s feet.” And with that Y/n jogs away to go put her swimsuit on and score them a good spot in the tub.
When Y/n gets back Eddie is already in the tub, a gap open which he obviously saved for her. On his opposite side is a girl, long dirty blond hair that falls mid back. She’s beautiful and Y/n can’t help but feel a little insecure in her color block bikini.
She turns back, walking into the kitchen. Feeling far too exposed to be walking around in the house, She tries to adjust the highwaisted bottoms and cups on her top to cover more, but to no avail. She dotes around, trying to figure out how to stall. She's not sure why seeing Eddie talking to that girl has got her so worked up, she feels a little lightheaded and her face is hot.
“What’s got you looking so green?” Jeff asks, stepping into the kitchen along with her.
“Um, nothing. What are you up to?” She places a hand on the cold surface of the table, trying to get her to calm down. She can feel herself getting increasingly angry with her own thoughts. Her and Eddie aren’t actually together, there’s no reason for her to feel so… jealous.
“I needed to go to the bathroom, but Eddie sent me for a beer.” Jeff complains, leaning against the fridge in his rubber ducky swim trunks. “That’s okay, I’ll grab it for him.” Jeff thanks her and runs off to the bathroom while Y/n collects a couple beers in her hands, knowing Eddie and the guys are bound to be taking a couple more trips to the fridge.
She slides into the hot tub next to Eddie, seeing the girl's hand placed on Eddie’s arm. A switch goes off in Y/n’s brain, “Here, babe. I got the beer you asked for.” Eddie turns his head, seeing her holding a can out for him. “Oh, thanks. Where did j-“ Y/n smashes her mouth into Eddie’s, cupping his jaw with one hand and pressing the other to his chest.
She slips her tongue in his mouth, Eddie taking a moment to process it before he slowly kisses back. She pulls away, red embarrassment painted all over her face. Eddie clears his throat, cracking open his beer. “I’ve got to go… clear my head.”
Y/n face palms. How stupid could she be? Of course he didn’t feel the same, he just needed a girl to play along with him so he didn’t have to tell his band mates his dirty little secret. She groans, getting out of the hot tub and ignoring the looks she gets from the girl. Y/n is sure she is nice, and she probably just ruined a potential girlfriend for Eddie, a real one.
She waits a while before she goes to talk to Eddie. As she walks up the stairs after fifteen minutes of sitting on the couch she plans what she will say to him, apologizing for shoving her tongue down his throat and getting jealous when she has no right. They aren’t actually together, this is all acting and she needs to respect that.
She opens the door to their shared room, hearing the shower running. She shuts the door behind her, sitting at the edge of the bed to wait for Eddie once he’s out. He was probably in the shower rinsing the chlorine out of his hair since he was trying to avoid it the best he could.
After a couple of minutes Y/n hears him turn the water off and she prepares for him to come out.
Eddie steps out, leaving the door cracked behind him to let the steam escape the bathroom. She opens her mouth to start, but promptly closes it. Eddie stands in front of the door, chest rising and falling with ragged breathing. She starts up again but fails to get any words out once more.
Eddie walks towards her, standing tall above her. Her breathing matches his, her chest suddenly feeling heavy. She reaches her hand up, settling it on his stomach and trailing it down before she pulls the white towel wrapped around his waist, letting it fall to the ground then wraps her hand around his thick cock. She’s at a loss for words as she takes in his naked form. His skin pale and pink, the dark blank ink of his tattoos contracting. His plump lips already puffy and bitten, his wet waves dripping down his chest and rolling past his belly button.
His cock is pretty and pink, long and thick. Perfect, just like she knew it would be.
“Eddie… I really like you.” He lets out a hiss then softly grabs her jaw, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips. “Fuck sweetheart, I’d love to talk about this right now but if you keep touching my dick I don’t know if we’re going to get any talking done.” He presses his lips back to hers, trailing them down to her neck. His hands grab at the strings of her bikini, trying to untie it but failing.
“Get this fucking thing off.” She softly laughs into his mouth, reaching behind her back and pulling the strings to untie them. He peels the wet top off of her skin, groaning at the sight of her tits. “Jesus Christ, honey.” He’s practically drooling at the sight of her, reaching out to run his hands along her body. “Get in the bed.” She listens to his order, crawling up the bed and laying in the middle, watching him follow her lead and crawl over her body.
Y/n reaches down, going to pull her bottoms down. “Don’t you fucking dare.” Eddie practically growls, pushing her hands away and slipping her swim bottoms off herself. Her chest heaves, begging him to do something, touch her, feel her. “Please.” Eddie smiles down at her, “please what? What do you want me to do?” His hands slide down her thighs and her hot skin warms his cold hands.
“Anything, please Eddie.”
He connects his mouth with hers again, moaning into the kiss. He tastes like beer and cigarettes and Y/n loves it, she doesn’t think she’ll ever get enough.
Eddie’s lips trail down, pressing pecks down her arm, her chest, her sides, kissing over the little stretch marks that line her hips before he sinks between her thighs. “Is this good?” Eddie asks, his deep voice dripping out like honey that’s been sitting in the sun too long. His big brown eyes stare up at her, dusted with lust and heavy with need. “Yes, yes it’s perfect.” He lets out a deep laugh, making her squeeze her eyes shut as hard as she can to stop a moan from coming out of her pathetic mouth.
He finally lowers his head, pulling her thighs up to rest them over his shoulders. “Fuck look at that.” Eddie presses a kiss to her thigh, “is this all for me?” She bites her lip, nodding. Eddie dives in, pushing his tongue between her lips.
Y/n gasps, her hand flying into his dark waves. Her eyes flutter closed, enjoying the feeling of Eddie’s tongue working magic on her. He gently sucks at her clit while he slides a ringed finger inside of her. They hear a creek at the floor, the stepping sounds far too close to the room for their liking. Eddie looks up, panting. “Did you lock the door?” Y/n shakes her head and Eddie jumps up, walking to the door to quickly lock it before any of his rude friends could barge in.
Y/n admires Eddie’s perky ass, softly laughing at it bouncing. Eddie jumps back on the bed, both of his hands cupping her jaw as he pulls her into a kiss. Y/n hand cradles the back of Eddie’s head, closing her eyes and leaning into him. “I think I might have a condom.” Eddie softly laughs on her lips, pulling her body closer into his.
“I don’t have any. I didn’t think this was how the trip would go.” Her hands slide over his arms, threading their fingers together and placing pecks over his lips. “One” kiss “second” kiss “I’ve gotta grab one I’ll be right back.” He laughs on her lips, giving her hands one last squeeze before grabbing his wallet and pulling out an old condom he’s had in there for a while.
“It’ll do the trick, right?” Y/n softly laughs, nodding. “Yeah, as long as there’s no holes in it.”
Eddie shrugs, looking at the gold packet. “Should work.”
“Lay back.” Eddie mumbles, getting serious again as he tears open the packet with his teeth, rolling the condom onto his cock. “You ready?” He crawls between her legs, his thumb rubbing her clit. She nods, pulling home closer. He knees the bed, lining himself up before slowly pushing inside of her.
She gasps, gripping at his arm. “You okay, honey?” Eddie trails kisses over her neck, taking his time to place delicate kisses on her skin. “I’ve never been better.” He pulls out, starting to slowly thrust in and out of her while his mouth gravitates to one of her nipples.
He sucks at her nipples, feeling it grow hard in his mouth. He circles his tongue around the sensitive bud, gently biting at it. Her back arches into him, throwing her legs around his hips and pulling him into her again. “Faster baby, please.” Her hand rests on the back of his head again, moaning at the electric feeling pulsing through her body.
“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Eddie’s pants, completely breathless as he slides in and out of her, making a complete mess of the now crumpled sheets. Y/n feels her wetness drip down, surely making a wet mess of the fabric under her, but she couldn’t care less.
She didn’t expect the fucking whines that come out of his mouth. Whining like the one thing he’s never wanted has been ripped from his hands, laced with want and desire. She squeezes around him the moment the noise hits her ears, feeling like she could already cum around him.
He whines again, shoving his face against her neck. His hips speed up, snapping quick and deep. Eddie hits her G spot, making her back arch. He hums, letting out a little breath. She’d spend the rest of her life making him feel good as long as he keeps making these noises.
She doesn’t get around much, but she’s never had someone be so delicate with her but still make her feel so good. Everything about him is intoxicating, the slight drag of his teeth against her lip when he kisses her, the way his head falls back when he feels really good, the way his thick cock stretches her out perfectly and fills her up.
“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart. Jesus H Christ, I fucking love your pussy.” He's obviously close to cumming as he starts rambling on, his balls growing heavy as he gets closer and closer. “I need you to cum first, sweetheart.” His hand slips between them, rubbing her clit. Y/n’s thighs twitch as the feeling, feeling more lightheaded as she gets closer and closer.
She squeezes tight around him, never wanting it to end as his cock slides in and out of her dripping pussy, Eddie all over her. “I’m about to cum, Eddie.” It takes him all but one second after her words for Eddie to bust inside of her, moaning loud. His hand never slips from the spot where he rubs her cunt, needing her to cum more than he’s ever needed anything before. “C’mon honey. Cum for Eddie, please. I know you want to.” She whimpers, closing her eyes as he works her closer and closer.
“Eddie” she gasps, calling out his name while she cums, clenching around his dick while her eyes squeeze shut.
She blinks her eyes open, trying to catch her breath. She watches Eddie sink down between her thighs again, her eyes widening. “Holy shit” she whispers, feeling his tongue dart out to clean her messy pussy up.
He raises with a smile, pulling her into a kiss before he flops down next to her. “We’ve got to find spare sheets.” Y/n laughs, laying her head on Eddie’s chest. He rubs her back, kissing her forehead.
Edie glances around, suddenly feeling fidgety. “I…” he shuts himself down, not sure where to start. “Yeah?” Y/n looks up, placing a kiss to his bare chest. She laces their fingers together with the hand that wasn't softly scratching her back. “I know I’m not the… coolest guy ever, and I’ve still got some growing up to do… but I think I can be something good for you maybe… if that’s what you want.”
A smile breaks across Y/n's face, “I think so too, Eddie. I didn’t expect this trip to go this way… but maybe now you won’t have to lie to your bandmates about a girlfriend?” Eddie laughs, wrapping one of his legs around hers. “I think, maybe no more lies?”
“Yeah?” Y/n asks, rubbing her thumb against the back of his hand.
“Yeah.”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔
“We should probably get up.” Y/n mumbles, Eddie half asleep as he breathes slowly with his head back against a pillow. “I can’t.” He whispers, “I’m too sleepy.” Y/n shakes her head, drawing circles on his chest. “We’ve just been laying on the wet sheets for almost an hour.” Eddie shrugs, finally opening his eyes.
“C’mon, I need to shower.” She jumps up and Eddie follows her, walking behind her as she opens the bathroom door, turning the shower on.
She looks in the mirror, trying to wipe the messy mascara that has leaked under her eyes. While she’s occupied Eddie leans against the wall, admiring her messy state. Completely bare, bed head and smeared makeup. “You’re really beautiful.” He’s just thinking out loud, really. Not fully aware of his thoughts just flowing out. “I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” Y/n stands there completely stunned, not sure what to say.
“No one ever said that to me.” She awkwardly laughs, feeling embarrassed by his sweet words.
“Really? That’s hard to believe.” He takes a step forward, brushing her hair out of her face. “Can I tell you something?” She nods. “I told the guys that I was dating you before I even asked you. You were the one I told them about all along.”
Y/n’s mouth falls open, at a loss for words. “It’s kind of creepy, huh?” He laughs, shaking his head at how unbelievably dumb he can be sometimes. “I just saw you at the bar and you were so sweet and I just… I got a little crush on you and I really didn’t think it’d go anywhere.”
She sighs, “Maybe a little creepy before, but not now that everything works out.” Eddie scoffs, feeling playful again. “Creepy huh. Sure you want to be with me?” Y/n hums, tapping her chin. “I’ll give it a good two months before I get a restraining order.”
Eddie's jaw dramatically drops, grabbing her and yanking her over to the shower with him. “And I thought it would be kind of endearing!”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔
“Wake up, baby.” Y/n whispers, pressing kisses to Eddie’s cheeks to wake him up.
Today was the last day of the trip, and Y/n was kind of relieved. It was always nice to get a break and go away, especially with how this trip panned out for her- but it all felt like a dream and she wanted to get back to reality to make sure it was all as good as it seems.
Eddie groans, yelling while he stretches. He tosses the other way, trying to get away from her so he can sleep some more. “Eddie,” she laughs. “You’ve got to wake up. We gotta be out of here by one and I already let you sleep in until ten.”
Eddie groans again, sitting up with a grumpy look on his face as he rubs his eyes hard to force himself to wake up. He shouldn’t have put off packing last night, but he got a little preoccupied.
He turns to Y/n a deep from turning his whole face down. Suddenly a smile flickers onto his mouth, “I forgot you’re naked.” He rubs his hands together like he has an evil thought. Y/n steps out of bed, throwing on Eddie’s corroded coffin shirt and pulling her panties up. “No time for this. We’ve got to get packing.” Eddie flops back on the bed, sitting there for a beat until he throws himself out, standing up and stretching out with a big yawn.
“Put something on to cover your ass and get to packing.”
Eddie snaps his head to her, offended. “You love it!”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔
Somehow, everyone packed all their things up and got them shoved in Eddie’s van with ten minutes to spare. Since Eddie drove the whole way up to the cabin, Gareth agreed to drive the last hour so Eddie could have a little break.
“Get your ass in there.” Eddie jokes, smacking Y/n’s ass as she crawls into the van. She rolls her eyes, smacking his hand away before he closes the door for her. “Now you can’t fall asleep. I need twenty four seven entertainment to keep me driving.” She laughs, leaning her head back against the seat.
“Were you guys in a fight at the start of the trip? You seemed pissed at each other.” Eddie and Y/n look at each other with knowing grins on their faces. “Something like that.” Y/n mumbles before Eddie starts up the van for the ride home.
This drive doesn’t nearly seem as long as the first time around. Maybe that’s because she and Eddie get to cuddle up in the back, and Eddie is definitely relieved to not drive the whole way.
Y/n plays in Eddie’s hair, softly massaging his scalp. “You’re putting me to sleep.” Eddie says with a sleepy smile, his eyes closed while he enjoys the light massage. His head rests in Y/n’s lap, deciding he needed a relaxing nap.
“Yeah, well your nap won’t be too long. We’ll be home in about twenty minutes.” He groans, shoving his face in her thigh. “Just keep playing with my hair.” She laughs, “I will”
It’s not long before they are back in Hawkins, sad the trip is officially over, but excited to be back home and in a more calm climate instead of there being a constant blizzard outside.
Gareth dropped himself off and the others quickly trickled out, leaving just Eddie and Y/n. “I don’t want to leave you.” Eddie confesses, lifting their tangled hands and pressing kisses to each of her knuckles. “Maybe you don’t have to.” Eddie takes his eyes off the road for a second, glancing back at her. “Hm?”
“Maybe just unpack at my place. Stay with me for a while.” She gives his hand a squeeze. “Maybe I’ll just stay with you.” He squeezes back, pulling up to her apartment building.
“Let’s get in there. I want to make up for all that lost time on the trip when we weren't together.”
A/N: this is my first fic I’ve ever posted on here:)))! This is kind of big for me, sorry if there is typos I tried my best to check!!! I’ll fix the spacing because tbh it’s annoying me! I hope you liked it! Please let me know your thoughts!
Tagging people who asked or was interested! :D - @ali-r3n @celestair @rustboxstarr @the-fairy-anon @myotherlifeiswattpad
:)
#my post#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson headcanon#eddie munson x you#fake dating#eddie munson/reader#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson art#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x afab reader#eddie munson x fem reader#stranger things#Eddie Munson stranger things#Eddie Munson blurb#eddie munson headcannon#eddie munson brainrot#eddie munson boyfriend#eddie munson writing
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𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
part one | part two | part three | part four
summary you're a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen. queue smiley face oatmeal, grossly misused power tools, desserts on the living room floor, a haircut, and an abundance of nerd metaphors [15k]
warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie's birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie ends up being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general loneliness, mentions of a shitty/traumatic pregnancy, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, you wash eddie's hair!!!! this was low-key requested by anon
𓆩❤︎𓆪
Eddie opens the door and finds a little girl on the steps of his house. Little girl feels generous – she's barely more than a baby. In a set of tiny matching pajamas and white socks stained green from the morning grass, she looks up at him with wide, sad eyes.
"Hey," he says carefully. "Hey, sweetheart."
"Good morning," she says, though it comes out blurry.
"Good morning," he repeats with a breathless laugh, instantly endeared.
He curls his hand around the railing and squats down. She really is very cute and obviously well looked after, although he realises upon closer inspection that she's been crying.
"Where's your mommy?" Eddie feels silly as he asks, but what else do you say when you find kids by themselves?
He's not really expecting her to know the answer. She pouts her small mouth and Eddie freezes up.
"Mommy.” Her breath quivers.
"Don't cry," he says very gently.
It doesn't work, obviously, and she starts whimpering in a way that turns Eddie's heart entirely.
"Let's find mommy, okay? Do you wanna do that? Wanna come and find mommy with me?"
"Yes," she says, though it quickly draws up into a sharp cry.
Eddie treks down the stairs and turns back, waiting. The little girl looks down at the steps and her eyebrows furrow as she places one foot after the other, looking like her socks are stuck to a fly trap.
He holds his hand out. "You got it," he says encouragingly, wiggling his fingers.
Her relief is palpable. Her brows smooth as she takes his hand, so small he can cover her entire palm with the meat of his thumb. She wobbles down the steps and then hesitates at the damp ground awaiting.
Eddie drops his gaze to her wet feet.
She looks up at him. Eddie doesn't think she means to but her eyes are pleading,and he's already moving to pick her up when she lifts her arms into the air.
She's heavier than he anticipates. He quickly gets used to the weight, shifting her against his side with his arm under her butt, her damp foot digging into his abdomen. She rests one hand on his shoulder and the other reaches for his hair. He can't help smiling at her as she pets the dark mess, hand clumsy but well-intentioned.
He walks down past the van and onto dark asphalt, looking up and down the road to see if anyone's around. He figures she has to be a trailer park kid – she can't have walked very far, and she'd been waiting outside. She must've gotten mixed up and thought his trailer was her own, which hopefully means her mom lives close.
The steps up into his trailer are on the right side. Eddie guesses she's come from the right. It's not a great assumption — he's grasping at straws.
"What's your name?" he asks.
She's taken a lock of his hair into her hands. Eddie worries for a second that she's going to try eating it but she only waves it around, looking pleased.
"I'm Eddie."
"Dee," she says.
"Almost. Eh-dee," he spells out, again not actually expecting her to understand what he's saying. He's unsure about kids her age – he's unsure what age she even is.
She babbles something unintelligible and Eddie hikes her higher up his chest. He strides out of the cool shadow and blinks, shielding his eyes against the yellow-white glare of sunshine. The little girl hides her face in his hair.
He hasn't walked very far when he sees you behind the trailer three doors down, pinning clothes that look the same size as the girl's pajamas to a clothesline with unhurried hands. The front door is wide open.
"Your poor mommy," he murmurs as he approaches, "out here doing the laundry by herself and you're halfway to Indianapolis. Musta got turned around, huh?"
You drop a small light blue dress on the floor and cuss just loud enough for Eddie to hear it. You pick it up fast and brush it down, looking over the fabric worriedly.
Eddie cuts over soft grass, giving the baby's waist a pat and holding her ears away from his mouth as he raises his voice. "Hey, is this your kid?" he asks.
You flinch toward him and your eyes go wide – wide, your lips parting and your brows jumping down like you might start yelling.
You're really fucking pretty.
Eddie’s quick to placate you. "She was sitting on my front steps."
You still don't look very happy though your suspicion melds to confusion and then a stab of too-late worry. You rush towards them and Eddie turns his body to encourage the girl's gaze to you. His chest warms when she perks up.
She wriggles in his arms impatiently and Eddie's surprised by how quickly she starts to cry, reaching out for you with insistent grabbing hands as he passes her over.
"It's okay," you say softly, tucking her into your chest.
The difference in body language is unmissable. Where she'd been restless (though more than pleasant) in Eddie's arms, she completely melts into yours. Her little face presses into your neck and her legs curl up. You pat her butt soothingly. "It's okay, baby. Where have you been?" You look up at him for an answer with concern lining your pretty features.
"I'm only three down," he says.
"Oh… Thank you," you say roughly.
Your gratitude is unnecessary. "That's okay. She's real sweet. I opened the door and the first thing she said was, 'good morning,'" he recalls with an easy smile.
Joy lightens your entire face. He feels his breath catch in his throat.
"She did? She said that?"
"Yeah, she did.” He tries not to sound as confused as he feels.
Your eyes close with the force of your smile. You encourages your toddler’s face back and drop your chin to plant kisses all over her tiny cheeks. Eddie feels something foreign yawning in his chest as she starts to laugh, a tinkling sound that's sugar sweet.
He scratches his neck and pretends to look over his shoulder, tamping his smile back into a neutral expression.
"She's having trouble talking," you say, lifting your head as the baby's giggles taper off. "She can talk, she says 'mommy' all the time, but she's s'posed to be saying more 'cos she's almost two and I know she can do it, she's so smart, but-" You cut yourself off and laugh all breathless and sheepish. "Sugar, I'm sorry. I mean- Sorry. Thank you," it almost bursts from you, "for bringing her back. I don't know…"
"You just moved in, right?" You nod. "The lock on the front door- they're all exactly the same, you just gotta shake it and it unlocks. Even someone small as her can could get it open with enough determination."
"She can be very determined," you say ruefully, voice hushed. You're still patting her butt, swaying her from side to side. Eddie's in awe at how quickly she's settled, her button features crumpled by a big yawn. "Always gets what she wants."
"I bet she does, she's a total heartbreaker."
You take a step towards him, your beat up sneakers half a foot from his converse. "She can't help it, she was born this pretty," you say. He loves how braggy you sound.
"I can see where she gets it."
As soon as he says it he wishes he could take it back. Not because he doesn't think it's true – you're really something else – but because he doesn't want to creep you out.
Luckily, he's rewarded for his bravery by another beaming smile, your words warm as you tell him, "They said she was the prettiest baby they'd seen in twenty years up in Eskenazi general."
The name pricks his ears. "You're from Indianapolis?"
"Kind of." You tilt your head to the side. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."
"Eddie." He could applaud himself on how normal he sounds and how not normal he feels.
"Eddie, I'm Y/N. D'you wanna come in for coffee? Or I can make you some breakfast? To say thank you for taking care of my Junie."
"Junie," he repeats, surprised.
You shift from foot to foot. "She's a June baby. And she's getting kind of heavy these days, so. Breakfast?"
He follows you up the steps and through the back door.
"You can leave it open," you say over your shoulder.
He catches an eyeful of your bathroom, an organised chaos that smells intoxicating, the rich scent of jasmine heavy in the humidity chased by something softer. Talcum powder, he thinks.
You murmur something to Junie too quiet to hear and she rouses from her dozing, grizzling weakly.
"It's breakfast time! Is that what you tried to come and find me for, some breakfast? So impatient," you scold her lightly, smiling all the while as you set her into a bright blue high chair with a big yellow duck with orange flippers printed on the cushioning.
You squeeze one of her feet and frown. "Your socks are wet. Did you go swimming in the grass?"
Eddie leans against the doorway leading into the kitchen. He doesn't have any experience with kids. You make it look easy, pulling off her stained socks while she wiggles her protest and tickling the soles of her feet with the tip of your finger until she's happy again.
You turn back to him, socks clutched in your hand. "I'm gonna make oatmeal. Is that something you…"
"I'm an oatmeal fiend."
You grin and do a lap to close the front door. "Sit down. I'll get you some coffee? I got milk and brown sugar."
He throws himself into the seat next to the high chair with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Brown sugar? Sweetness, you're spoiling me."
Junie laughs. Eddie pulls himself up into a proper sitting position and gawps at her exaggeratedly. "What's funny, little lady?"
She giggles some more. Eddie leans his elbow on the tray of the high chair and pretends to glare at her. "I can already tell you're trouble."
"She likes you."
"Yeah?" he asks, looking at you over his shoulder.
You're half obscured by cabinets as you poke your head out, an open sack of rolled oats in one hand and a small pan in the other. You nod happily and move to the sink. He can hear the sound of the faucet and the burner clicking on, the saucepan sliding over the stovetop.
"I like you," he says to Junie quietly, rapping his knuckles on the tray. "But don't tell anyone, okay? I have a reputation."
"So, uh, how long have you lived here?" you call, almost smothered by the rushing sound of oats tipping into hot water.
Junie makes a funny face like she might sneeze. Eddie watches. "Since I was a kid." He's smiling as he talks, amazed when Junie starts to smile back. He nods his head gently up and down to encourage her. "Too long. Not that it's not nice here."
Junie looks like she agrees.
"For sure, but.. not always where you picture yourself," you say tentatively.
He hums his agreement. "Whatever though, right? A roof is a roof. Even when the roof is made of cardboard and corrugated metal. I mean, all things considered, this is a well kept vessel."
He's not just trying to make you feel better – you really are making a go of it. There's not nearly as much clutter or decoration as his own home but it's twice as clean and every surface brags a clear affection – you fucking love your daughter. There's a framed photo of her as she looks now at the mantle without a single fingerprint on the glass, baby photos in smaller frames hang on the wall.
Smallest of all, a photo of the two of you together. Your hands on her shoulders, your lips and nose pressed to her forehead. You're not looking at the camera, but Junie is, and she's exuberant.
Toys, though few, are arranged neatly under the TV. It's really the type of clean that takes hours. He wonders how you'd ever make time for it.
"You got a job?"
"Yeah, I'm waitressing at Benny's?" You say it like a question. "The burger place?"
"Yeah, I know the one. Randolph Lane, near the laundromat. Does Junie go with you?" he asks. He cooes Junie's name and feels very happy when the girl in question smiles some more, reaching out with her hands. Eddie offers up the same palm she'd taken before and lets her squeeze his fingers in a surprisingly tight grip. "She looks like a working girl."
"Benny said I could bring her with me until she starts daycare next week, so she really is a working girl." You giggle madly and Junie loves the sound, her chubby cheeks rounding as she smiles.
"I knew it," Eddie whispers conspiringly. "You have the face for it."
Junie laughs like something is truly hysterical and Eddie can't believe it, squeezing the small girl's smaller fingers in his and waving their joined hands together.
"She really likes you," you say, closer now.
You set a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. He pulls his hand from Junie's and moves the hot mug away from the high chair though she'd never be able to reach it as you set your own mug and a pint of milk half-full across from him, the brown sugar you'd promised in a pink and orange ceramic dish with a lid that clinks as he pulls it off.
You double back into the kitchen. This time you bring a baby bottle full of what he guesses is diluted juice and two teaspoons, handing him one with a quiet, "For you."
"Why thank you," he drawls.
He spoons a generous hill of crumbly brown sugar into his cup and swirls.
"The oatmeal needs to soften. Is there anything you want with it? I've got lots of options," you tell him, pouring milk into your own mug. When you're done you and Eddie swap.
He thinks maybe you sound a little nervous and wonders if he's the first neighbour you've met. Or maybe you're still freaked out about Junie.
He raises his eyebrows but doesn't look at you as he splashes milk into the dark recesses of his coffee, watching as it bursts back up to the surface and turns the drink a more acceptable brown. "What do you usually have?"
"Junie gets peanut butter and blueberries."
He tilts his head toward his shoulder just slightly and plants his elbows on the table, the rim of his mug held in tenuous fingertips.
"What do you get?" he asks, thinking that if the baby gets such a sweet treat you must get something equally impressive. He thinks of raspberries and chia seeds, flakey sea salt and bitter dark chocolate.
You blink. "What?"
"What do you have, on your oatmeal?" He punctuates his question with a sip.
"Salt. Sometimes raisins."
You make a nice cup of coffee. Eddie holds it in both hands and leans into the table. "That's it?"
You shrug. Junie starts to whimper about something Eddie doesn't understand. You reach out to hold her hand. "She loves blueberries. Don't you, Junie?"
"Blue," Junie says.
You're smiling as you take another small spoonful of brown sugar. You lick the tip of your finger and dip it into the well of the spoon until a few grains are sticking to you and hold it up to Junie's lips. "She loves sugar, too, but toddlers aren't s'posed to have it. Or so they say." You smile as she sucks the sugar off before wiping your spit wet finger in your pants.
Daughter appeased for a moment, you hold your chin in your palm and turn your attention to him. "Where do you work?"
He imagines this is how a plant feels when the sun comes out. "The Hideout, for now. I'm a very essential and irreplaceable bus boy." He nods very seriously.
"What's after?"
"Music."
Your lips curl into an interested smile. "Music? You a singer?"
"I have a great set of windpipes," he says agreeably, grinning. "But I'm a guitarist."
"And you're in a band?"
"I- I was. Yeah, we were good, too, but everybody graduated and our drummer skipped town. I just sub rhythm guitar for whoever wants me to."
"At the Hideout?"
"At the Hideout." He decides on his next words carefully. You could come see me play. Weak. You're welcome to come see it for yourself. Too strong? You're welcome to come by one night. Bring Junie.
He's not asking you on a date; he's a new acquaintance extending an invitation for you to get out and see a new place. That's all it is.
He opens his mouth to try and suddenly there's a loud clattering. Eddie flinches, blinks, finds that Junie has thrown her bottle of juice across the room.
Eddie waits for you to maybe tell her off like some of the mom's he's seen at Bradley's. A glare, a hissing remark to be good.
You reach over and your shirt rides up your back. Eddie averts his gaze guiltily.
You put the bottle back on the tray, giving him an apologetic grimace. "Sorry, Junie has recently discovered that every time she drops something I'll pick it up for her."
"Smart Junie."
The bottle falls to the floor again. "She's a genius." You don’t sound entirely pleased, picking the bottle up again and holding it just out of Junie's reach. You shake it up and down. "S'juice. You like juice," you try to reason with her.
Junie reaches for it. You purse your lips. "Be good," you say softly.
Junie takes the bottle and shakes it.
It's a small victory and still softens every feature. Your eyes squint, your bottom lip juts out a touch, your nostrils flare with a pleased inhale.
"Thanks, junebug."
"Tanks," Junie says.
"Thanks," you repeat, bubbly baby talk. "Thanks. Say thanks, Junie."
Eddie watches you encourage her over his coffee. It's quiet, peaceful here in a way nowhere else in his life has ever been besides quiet Sunday mornings with his Uncle. There's only the sound of the gas stovetop burning and your happy, patient voice.
Junie says "Tanks," a couple more times. You don't give up. When she finally says something that sounds almost like a "Thanks," you whip your gaze to his.
"Did you hear that?" you ask. Your pride is evident.
He puts down his half empty mug. "She said it."
"She said it," you repeat, your shoulders moving in the tiniest happy dance he's ever seen. You stand up and take her face into delicate hands. "She's my smarty pants. Aren't you, baby?"
You dot a kiss over her head and head back into the kitchenette.
"Tanks," Junie says animatedly, running on an affection high. She accidentally knocks her bottle over.
"Thanks, Junie," Eddie corrects, righting it.
He finds it easier to baby talk than he imagined. Being nice to little kids – that's easy. Especially as he gets older. When they hit the pre-teen mark is when he starts to steer clear, but even then he can't help doting on them sometimes. Like his club – idiots, annoying idiots, but his annoying idiots. He doesn't hold back with them. He doesn't feel like he's holding back now, either, it's just different.
Baby's want love. Care and affection.
And to pull Eddie's hair, apparently.
Junie's reaching over the gap with a fierce look on her face. Eddie pulls his chair closer and decides to let her try it out. She hadn't given him any reason to worry before, and she doesn't now as she takes a chunk of his hair into her hand. She pulls very gently, likely more that her fingers have gotten caught in his messy curls than any maliciousness.
"What's your fascination with my hair?" he asks her.
In her own home Junie's very noisy. When he'd found her outside she hadn't done much besides whimper weakly. Now, she's a riot of gurgling and humming.
"Are you a singer, Junie?" he asks.
"She sings all the time! She loves the Muppet Babies on TV, but I- uh, I haven't been able to actually get cable, yet. But when I get paid next week…" You come back into view with two bowls in hand. "She'll be in her oils."
Eddie says thanks as you put a bowl down in front of him. There's a smiley face there made up of berries with banana slices for eyes. He feels something crawling up his throat and has no idea what it is, and then something completely different when he sees your own bowl, a stretch of plain oatmeal with no delicious adornment.
You leave and quickly return with a smaller bowl, a baby spoon and a jar of peanut butter.
"Do you want some?" you ask, opening the jar to push the baby spoon inside. "I would've just put it in anyway but then I worried you were allergic."
You hand it off to Junie and she licks at it happily.
"Sure, I'll have some. Where's your smiley face?" he asks.
Your eyes widen slightly. Eddie's not academically inclined but he's never been stupid, and he sees it for what it is, something he's seen in himself and in every other poor kid who didn't bring lunch to school.
"I don't really like bananas," you say.
Whether you're lying or not isn't something he needs to know.
"Well, you're gonna have to share the blueberries with me, I can't eat this much fruit. I got a hearty diet of chips and microwave oven dinners to uphold."
Eddie shovels half of the smile into your bowl. You clutch your spoon in your hand like you want to protest, but no way is he gonna watch you miss out on nice things in your own home.
You smile and don't say anything for a while, rubbing the edge of the bowl with your spoon, your thoughts somewhere else.
Junie's food sits billowing steam in the middle of the table, which annoys the poor girl endlessly. She wiggles and murmurs and sucks at her empty spoon with a growing line between her brows.
Eddie eats and feels much better when you finally start to eat your own meal, leaning back in his chair heavily to loll his head towards Junie. "Your mom makes amazing oatmeal. You're really missing out."
You choke on a laugh and grab her spoon to load up with another small heap of peanut butter. "That is so cruel to lord over her,” you say. “I can't give it to her yet! It's scorching. She has a fragile mouth."
"I'm sure."
He picks one of his blueberries out of the bowl and offers it to Junie, who takes it slowly despite her previously rabid hunger
More oatmeal eating. Eddie ends up giving the rest of his fruit to Junie, your generous dollops of peanut butter more than enough to enjoy the oatmeal. He might argue it doesn't need any adornment at all.
You stir peanut butter into Junie's bowl and wrestle the baby spoon out of her tight grip.
It's a process to watch. You scoop up oatmeal, blow on it until you're sure it's cool, and push it into Junie's mouth efficiently. There's a method to it, the way you lift the handle of the spoon so oatmeal doesn't drip straight back out of her mouth. When it does you scrape the lip gently against her chin to catch it before it ruins her shirt.
It starts to rain. Hard not to notice, a light drizzle opens and sprays down against the windows and for a moment there's no reaction. Then, gasping, you drop Junie's bowl back onto the table in stress.
"Shit, the laundry. Are you okay to watch her please? Sorry. I'll be five seconds," you say, already heading for the back door.
"Sure.” He sounds about as startled as he feels.
The back door shushes open and your feet dip down the steps. Junie is not very pleased with her breakfast getting put on pause, her face growing as unpleasant as the weather outside.
"Mommy," she says, unhappy and loud.
Eddie doesn't think about it as he picks up her bowl. It's more a pulse of feeling than a thought. Feed her and she won't cry.
He blows on a spoonful of oatmeal with likely too much vigour.
Junie's still complaining as he holds it in front of her face. If she's surprised to be fed by somebody who isn't her mom she doesn't show it, her sticky face growing suddenly slack as she realises her oatmeal is back in play. Her lips part.
He feeds her oatmeal, does a very bad job, and tries to gather what's escaped with the spoon as Junie waves her hands around and pokes at spilled food on the white tray in front of her. By the time you come back damp and breathless with the cold chasing your heels he's successfully managed to feed her what was left of her breakfast. He's embarrassed to be caught but tries not to show it.
"You okay?" he asks, looking you up and down amicably.
"S'only a little rain." You push the laundry basket onto the sofa and smile sheepishly. "You didn't have to do that."
"And have the precious little lady starve?"
"Starve!" you repeat, a feigned incredulousness to your tone.
"She was giving me the puppy dog's," he says, shrugging as he takes the spoon out of Junie's wet fingers.
She whines for a second at his robbery but seems to realise she's full, picking her juice back up to shake some more.
You exhale through an open-mouthed smile.
"Thank you. She's gonna love you now, she loves anyone who gives her food. She's a real cadge at the diner. Never seen so much free cherry pie in my life," you remark, turning to what looks like your diaper station. You wade through a mess of things he doesn't recognise and pull out a packet of baby wipes.
"And her mom? Is her affection so easily garnered?"
"Takes more than a cherry pie to win me over," you joke, sitting down in your chair in front of the high chair with a soft sigh. You pull out one of the wipes and take Junie's wrists into your hand, wiping her fingers clean methodically. "I need at least a squirt of whipped cream on top before I consider any fondness."
He chuckles and you laugh too. It's short-lived, your lips pursed as you wipe Junie's face clean. She hates every second of it, writhing in her chair like she's being tortured as you clean a mess of brown and blue from her round chin.
"Sorry, I'm sorry. Done, done," you say, holding your hands up in surrender.
She pouts.
"Don't be like that," you scold her mildly. "Look how lovely and clean you are now! Eddie can see how pretty you look again."
You slide your hands under her armpits and pull her out of the highchair, groaning.
"Oh, there you go. Where's Mr. Bear gone, baby? You can play sticky bricks with him so I can get ready for work."
Work. Work. Where Eddie was going. Where Eddie is very likely supposed to be. He checks the time and his eyes flare, standing up abruptly. You turn toward him with Junie anchored on your hip, both wearing matching expressions of curiosity.
"Sh-“ Don’t swear around babies. “I'm sorry, I got somewhere to be that I totally spaced on."
You blink. "That's okay."
"It was sick to meet you," he says.
You blink some more and walk to the front door, pulling it open as an understanding smile curls your lips. "Super 'sick,'" you say, bemused. "Thank you so much for bringing Junie back. Really, I mean, if anything ever happened to her." You don't finish because it's obvious, your bright tone underlain with a burning fear.
He walks sideways out of the door and down one step, knowing he's super fucking late but not caring too much as he says, "Listen, I can bring you a deadbolt."
"You could?"
"Sure thing. Make sure this little lady," and he says it chidingly, directing his gaze at Junie who goes all shy and smiley from the attention, "doesn't go on anymore morning adventures. Especially without her shoes."
"That would be… that would be awesome, Eddie. Thank you."
He waves his hand and descends the last of the steps. "I'll come around tomorrow?"
It's a Saturday today. He's not surprised that you're both working the weekend, but he is surprised that you're working Sunday too when you say, "Would after five be okay?"
"That's more than okay. Bye, trouble," he says to Junie, bringing a hand up to shield his hair from the drizzling rain.
You look lovely on the stoop, fresh-faced and in your lounge clothes. You tug Junie up your chest and take her hand into yours. "Say 'bye', Junie," you tell her, waving her hand. "Bye! Bye-bye, Eddie."
"Bye Junie!" he calls, waving at the little girl with great fervour.
"Bye!" Junie calls back.
You both grin.
-
You're super tired from work and exhausted from an upset daughter. Even now Junie fusses. She hasn't been getting her naps because you can't set her down anywhere that isn't the wooden high chair in Benny's restaurant, which is months of a routine disrupted.
You're not mad at her – the opposite, you feel awful to mess her up like this, awful that she's so upset. Trying your very best to calm her down, you're swaying her from side to side in the middle of your messy living room with your hand patting a steady rhythm into the narrow breadth of her back.
"I know, baby, I know. I'm sorry. You'll get your nap tomorrow, I promise," you say, trying for softness and missing, desperation eating at your tone.
You try not to have a heart attack at the thought of her first day at the new daycare. I can't think about it, you tell yourself, moving your thoughts onto the Sunday checklist.
Junie's been fed. Unfortunately, she's the kind of wound up where the only solution you can think of is to get her in bed. If you can get her down soon she'll sleep until maybe 4AM. Not ideal; you'd prefer she slept later tonight and woke up at a healthier 6AM with you. When she does wake, no matter the time, you'll have her eat something substantial for breakfast and take a much needed bath.
Laundry, bills, cleaning, it all runs through your head. Junie's hair, her snacks for daycare, her clothes. Does she have clean socks for the week? Does she have a vest top for tomorrow?
Her crying grows loud and you can't think of anything except how overwhelmed you feel.
"It's okay, baby, just go to sleep." You shush her softly.
Somebody knocks the door.
You and Junie are similarly nonplussed. Her crying ceases for a second and her head turns in tandem with yours.
"Oh. Oh, you know who that is, huh?" you ask her, making for the door while her cries are still on pause. "That's our new friend Eddie. You remember Eddie?"
You pull open the door. There he is on the porch with a bag and a plastic case, wearing a shirt with short sleeves. You realise for the first time that he has tattoos.
"Hi," you say.
"Hi. Hi, Junie," he adds, looking at her tear-stained face. "Have I come at a bad time?"
"No, you're good. You're great, thank you for doing this." You lean back against the door and Eddie skirts past you. That close, you can smell the heavy sage and sandalwood of his cologne and see the beauty mark under his ear, dark hair tucked behind the shell.
He stops in the middle of the room and puts down the plastic case. "I'm gonna try to do it. Try being the essential word, and I make absolutely no promises." He makes a small cross with his hands leading out and the bag falls from the crook of his elbow to his wrist.
It sounds like more than a deadbolt. Eddie sees your gaze and jumps into theatrics that hook Junie's attention straight away, ruffling through the bag. He pulls out a VHS tape and then a second, one old and one newer.
"For your consideration." He presents them grandly against his check, his eyes flitting from your daughter to the tapes in wait of her reaction.
Junie has no clue what a VHS is. She thinks the TV is magic.
You swoop in and gasp loudly for Junie's sake, having identified his proffered tapes immediately.
"You know what that is?" you ask her, pointing at the slipcover. "Muppet Babies! There's Kermit and Fozzy and Rowlf and Gonzo." You touch your finger to each puppet in turn as you reel off their names.
Junie looks up at you like maybe she remembers, so you start to sing the theme tune for her. "Muppet Babies, they make their dreams come true. Muppet Babies, they'll do the same for you!"
The song jogs her memory. She starts her nonsense singing in a valiant but juvenile effort to recreate the music, dancing in your arms.
You sing it again for her as you lower her to the floor. She doesn't whine to be picked back up, a great sign that her mood has turned, instead walking to the TV, a small silver combi with a bubble screen. She raises her arms up high and starts hitting the TV stand with her palms flat.
Eddie looks to you as if he's checking that it's alright before crossing the small space and turning on the TV, your relieved smile more than enough encouragement. He's careful not to step on Junie's feet, surprised when she walks into his leg. She grabs onto his jeans and looks up at him with wide eyes.
Eddie visibly softens.
It's kind of crazy to see him, this metalhead dude covered in dark tattoos and wearing safety pinned jeans looking down at a toddler with nothing but patience in his eyes.
He drops his hand very lightly to her tiny back and pushes in the tape. "Hi, sweetheart."
"Hi," Junie says.
She doesn't let him touch her for very long, falling to her knees to pull out the bin of stickle bricks hiding underneath as Eddie fast forwards through the adverts and then turns up the volume until the Muppet Babies theme is echoing against the wood panelled walls..
Junie's eyes dart up the screen, two bricks held in her hands and a great smile on her face.
"Where did you find that?" you ask, in awe.
He steps over her and comes back to your side, crossing his arms over his stomach with a smug smile. "Not telling. Ruins the magic. Got The Bugs Bunny Show for when she gets bored of Miss Piggy."
You smooth down your rumpled black work skirt and smile shyly. "I can pay you back… Next week."
He looks lost for words for a split-second. It clears fast, and he says, "Tell you a secret. I have a friend down at good old Family Video that let me have 'em for nothing."
"Yeah?" you ask, unsure. You worry he's lying to make you feel better.
"Uh-huh. Friends in high places," he brags sarcastically.
You turn to watch Junie smile for the first time in hours and have to scrub your face to hide how shattered you feel. It's been a really long week. Your relief is a physical thing, a hand on your shoulder. You feel yourself deflate.
"You okay?" Eddie asks.
You press the backs of your hands to your cheeks. "Thank you. Really. You saved me."
"Yeah?" he asks, dialling up the drama. He lifts his chin high. "Would you say, oh, I don't know, that I'm your hero?"
It's his clear joking tone that saves him. If you'd detected even a smidge of genuine expectancy from him you likely would've shoved him out the door.
"Mm-hm. My hero," you croon, both of you grinning.
He turns back to the grocery bag and pulls out a bottle of juice. "I was gonna bring coke but I didn't want Junie to feel left out."
You move to the cabinets and can't believe how nice he is. You get a little warning stab, that feeling of if it's too good to be true… and shake it off. Maybe it'll turn out that way and you're not gonna do anything stupid to chance it, but he seems like a normal guy. A good neighbour who wants to be your friend.
You're in dire need of one of those.
"What was wrong with the little lady?"
You pour juice into a glass for him, less into a glass for you, and a half-inch into a clean baby bottle. "I can't get her down for a nap when she's with me at work and it really caught up to her today. She-" You yawn so wide it hurts your cheeks, covering your face with your arm.
Eddie looks up from where he's kneeling in front of the open plastic case he'd brought with him. "Caught up to you too, I think."
"A little." You smile ruefully.
He holds something red and black in the air. "This'll wake you up," he says.
It's a small hand drill. He presses down on the trigger twice in quick succession and Junie lies down on the floor to look backwards at him.
“Woah,” you say.
Junie rolls onto her knees and then stands. She's in that stage of walking where she can mostly do it but has a great tendency to trip over anything that might be in her way, and she stumbles as she approaches. Eddie moves the drill away from her and opens the case wide to show her his array of drill bits.
"How'd you like them, Junie?" he asks. "Pretty cool, huh?"
"What do they all do?" you ask.
"I don't have the foggiest," he says, grinning up at you. "And I really wanted to be cool and pretend that I did. I was going to, but you asked me that and now we're sunk."
Junie pokes at all the silver metal and turns away, bored, to return to her cartoons.
"I'm sorry," you say, not sorry at all.
"You should be." He shakes his hair out. "Can't say woodshop was something I ever paid much attention to in school."
You squat down beside him where he's counting the screws out for the deadbolt he'd acquired for you, your small cup of juice in hand. The deadbolt isn't new but it's clean of rust and that's all you care about. It doesn't need to do anything besides work.
"It can't be too hard though, right?" you ask quietly. There isn't any need to talk loudly this close to him and your head is starting to hurt from a long day.
"I hope not." He passes you the drill. "Hold onto that?"
He stands and you follow, the deadbolt frame in hand. He turns to your front door and holds it up to the frame, far from the door knob. "Where'd you want this thing?"
"Wherever you think is best," you say quickly.
"Got a pencil?"
You don't. You're ashamed to offer him a cyan blue crayon from Junie's arts and crafts. He takes it with a gleeful smile and uses it to draw a line under the deadbolt's two parts to make sure they fit together once they've been drilled in.
Junie starts fussing and you squint at her, trying to guess what's wrong. You leave the drill on the small table by the door.
"Junie, you want some dinner?" you ask, walking up behind her where she's stood watching TV. You rub her shoulder and lean over her, your face upside down in front of the TV. "I don't think you're hungry. Let's change that diaper."
She certainly doesn't want you to. You turn to Eddie where he's making clumsy crosses on the door in place of the screws, his brows furrowed.
"I'm gonna go get her some jammies," you say, and then wince. "Pajamas."
"Jammies," he repeats. You hate how happy he looks.
A hot flush washes over you. "She's the only one I talk to."
Again, that awful softening of his features. He's got the biggest, brownest eyes you've ever seen. "Why don't you get changed, too? I'm gonna start drilling." He waves the drill and you don't like how loosely he holds it.
"Please don't ruin the door."
A wolfish smile. "No promises."
You leave all the doors open. Eddie's nice but you're not stupid – if he plans on kidnapping her or something evil this is the perfect time. Though, you suppose, he could’ve abducted her when he found her outside.
You shed your uniform and pull on a pair of loose fitting pants. You can't find a clean t-shirt, probably because you own a grand total of three, and you get distracted when the drill starts whirring and Junie screams.
You know in your heart that it's just a baby scream rather than a sign that she's in pain and you still can't let it lie, rushing down the hall. You can see her, see that she's uninjured, only looking at the drill.
She's excited.
"You like that?" Eddie asks her. "Is that funny?"
Junie claps her hands together and reaches for the drill.
Eddie frowns. "Sorry, you can't have it. I gotta finish the door for your mommy. Why don't you build me something with your bricks, yeah? Something big."
Junie reaches up for the drill again.
"I can't, Junie, it's too dangerous. Don't want you to get all mutilated." You wrinkle your nose at what he's saying. He turns the drill towards his chest and touches the drill bit to his collar. "Look, see this? It's not for little hands."
Junie steps over the case of things on the ground and leans against Eddie's legs, insistent.
Your mouth drops open as he starts the drill and puts on some fake anguished screams. "Ah! Oh my god, it's eating me!"
Junie starts laughing at his fake screaming. Her eyes widen, her hands clinging to a rip in his jeans.
"Think that's funny, do you? Heartless girl. Where's your juice gone, hmm?" He holds the drill behind his back and points to her bottle on the side of the couch where you'd left it. "You want that?"
He goes over her head to grab it and encourage it into her hands. "Yummy," he says, his eyes moving to where you stand in the door past the kitchen, eyebrows jumping up. "Everything okay?"
"Screaming," you say, awkward in your breathlessness.
Eddie's eyes stay resolutely on your face. "She's okay. The drill is exciting. You're shirtless, you know."
You spin on your heel and back into your room. Your heart a jack hammer, you sieve through clothes until a rumpled t-shirt that smells of deodorant but not sweat appears and shrug into it.
Junie has a much better selection of clothes. You pick out some matching pajamas for her and a thick pair of socks and tuck them under your arm with her changing matt.
When you return this time, Eddie's drilling a third and fourth hole into the wall next to the door and Junie's watching with the teat of her bottle in her mouth, chewing but not drinking. You lay her mat down on the floor and grab her with a big sigh.
"Alright, Junie, let's get you all fresh for bed."
You change her diaper and she doesn't misbehave too much, Eddie's general presence a distraction. Soon she's sitting in your lap, dressed in new pajamas and smelling of talcum powder and baby creams, her wool socks soft as you rub your thumbs into the instep of her feet.
You sit on the floor watching Eddie drill the screws into the deadbolt frame. Junie slouches against you, her head digging into your chest and her tired arms struggling to hold up her bottle. You hold it up for her, watching Eddie's hands and his arms, how they move. Muscle and ligament tense under the skin, tattoos warping, his bats propelled into flight.
"I like your tattoos," you say.
Eddie stops drilling to look over his shoulder. "What?"
"I- I like your tattoos."
He lights up. His back straightens out and he turns back to the lock, giving the last screw a final good twist. The door makes a groaning protest and then it's quiet. Just Muppet Babies, Junie's soft suckling and the compliment you'd given adrift in the room.
"They're pretty sweet," he allows. You can hear how pleased he is though he won't look at you.
"They're cool. Have you had them long?"
Eddie starts to tell you all about them, fiddling with something you can't see on the door.
Junie decides that she doesn't want to be sitting anymore and turns in your arms, hands coveting your neck. You lift her into your chest and rub circles in her back, the weight of her emptying bottle on your shoulder. Soon, her small arms go lax. There's a rush of air as her lips open from the teat and the bottle tumbles to the rug with a dull thud.
He pulls open the door. Cool air rushes in. He closes it, slides the deadlock into place, and then pulls hard to make sure it won’t come free.
It’s solid.
He laughs triumphantly and Junie stirs. You pat her back and make some quiet shushing sounds and Eddie turns around, a slip of his teeth on show as he grimaces.
"Sorry," he whispers.
You shake your head. "You're amazing. Thank you."
If his cheeks weren't pink they are now. He leans into it, hiding one cheek behind his hair. "Stop," he says, exaggerated.
"I'll make it good, I swear," you whisper, covering Junie's ear with your hand. "I'll make you the best dinner ever. I'm the best at Kraft's mac and cheese, or-" You flush hot, realising that mac and cheese might not be the treat you think it is to him. "Or we can order in," you say, doing the maths in your head. You can't afford it, but maybe Benny-
"Kraft's mac and cheese? You're spoiling me."
You beam.
Eddie cleans up the small mess he's made. You're afraid to move quite yet in case Junie's not really sleeping, though she's a dead weight in your arms, and you watch Eddie walk through the room with both caution and ease.
"Oh, you don't have to do that,” you say.
He folds the baby blanket in his hands and puts it back on the armrest of the couch before moving on to the stickle bricks, not looking at you as he says, "Just earning my wage, doll."
You can't watch him clean your home. You wrap a tight arm around Junie and rise to your feet. Eddie sees your approach and his movements grow faster, rushing to clean up the mess before you can stop him. You don't know who starts first but you're both laughing as you grab his wrist.
"Stop!" you whisper, mock-furious. "Stop cleaning."
"Sh, you'll wake the baby."
You shake your head in bemusement. "I'm gonna go set her down. Then mac and cheese."
"Take your time. Lots of things for me to clean up out here," he says with a mock sincerity.
You drift down the hall and turn back to sneak a glance at him. He's pulled Muppet Babies out of the TV and is rewinding it around his thumb, a small smile on his lips as he hums the theme tune to himself.
With Junie finally in bed for the night you take a quick peek at yourself in the mirror on your nightstand and cringe. You look tired. You give yourself a big smile and feel better; a smile makes even your most exhausted features look pretty.
You slap on some chapstick. You know, to counter your dry lips. It shines.
Slipping out of the bedroom, you close the door as quietly as you can manage.
Eddie's standing at the end of the hallway. You expect to feel scared. Instead, you’re perplexed.
"Hi?" you whisper.
"Can I use the bathroom?"
You laugh. "Yeah. Course you can."
You have to pass each other in the hallway. His hip bumps your hip, a short rub of fabric.
You're still thinking about it when he finds you behind the stove, half asleep with your face in your hand. It's the kind of tired where your eyes keep slipping shut, not aching so much as blurry with a heavy head.
"You okay?" he asks quietly, sitting down at your cramped table.
You hum. "Hm. Just tired." You give him a guilty smile as you tip the bigger portion into his bowl. "Sorry. Mac and cheese with bacon bits for you, my hero."
"Thanks, sweetheart."
The fatigue ebbs a little.
Eddie’s easy to talk to. He makes you laugh. When you say goodnight, he looks back over his shoulder twice.
-
It's a funny coincidence that Eddie sees you Friday night. He never grocery shops on a Friday but he knowd when his uncle gets home in the morning there won’t be anything for him to eat after his shift. He takes a sharp turn towards the TV dinners and there you are at the bottom of the aisle with Junie in the seat of the cart. You're talking to her like you'd talk to anyone, though you didn't sound so saccharine sweet over mac and cheese. Close, but not quite.
"What do you want?" you're asking. "Ham and pineapple or mini pepperoni?"
Junie holds her hands out for both boxes. You let her take them and the two of you puzzle over the pizzas, heads bent together.
"Pepperoni, right?" you ask her, quietly enough that he almost misses it.
"Peroni," Junie agrees. You let her keep the box and put the other one back in the freezer.
"Pepperoni," you correct, absentminded.
"Peroni."
"Pepper-roni." You sound it out slow, looking at a scrap of paper in your hand.
"Pepper."
"You'll get there. Do you think we need shampoo this week?" You start jovial, but quickly lose your sprightliness. "Maybe I can put some water in the bottle and just… shake it up. No, we definitely need it."
Eddie watches you look over the cart. He knows exactly what you're thinking, What can I put back?
"Hey!" he calls, walking a little faster to try and hide how he'd been listening.
You turn on the spot and smile as soon as you see him. Junie, to his delight, is even more excited.
"Hi," she says, hands thudding along the cart's handlebar.
"Hi, Junie. How's my favourite neighbour?"
She babbles.
"I'm psyched to hear it. How about you, sweetheart?" he asks, parking his cart next to yours.
You're looking very tired. Still in your work uniform with a hoodie thrown over the top and your smart flats swapped for a pair of converse with the laces undone. You pinch your cheeks up into a big smile. He guesses that with a baby you've gotten very used to hiding how you feel.
You don't hesitate to lay it down thickly. "I'm really good."
"Yeah? How's Junie liking daycare?"
You cover your hands with your sleeves. "She loves it. Loves napping again. She-" You frown. "She doesn't like the mornings. Dropping her off. But after." You nod with a tentative smile "Yeah, it's nice to pick her up."
"Uh-huh. How's work?"
"What?"
"How's work for you? How's Benny's?" he prods.
"You're asking me about work?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Nobody ever asks about work," you say.
You can't look at him as soon as you've said it, your eyes moving back to the grocery list in hand. It's an old envelope, and it crinkles under your squeezing fingers.
"Sorry," you mutter.
Eddie bites back a frown. "Well, I'm asking."
He holds out his hand for the list and you give it without thinking. He adores your handwriting the second he sees it, scanning the list for anything in this aisle.
"Hey, tell me about it," he prompts at your silence, pushing his cart. It takes you a millisecond to catch up, but when you do you're near frenetic.
"Well, I messed up like, five different orders today. And when I had Junie it was like they didn't care 'cos she's cute, but now she's not there they get pretty angry pretty quickly."
"She's like a magic item."
"Right," you say, sounding like you have no idea what he's talking about. "She was my lucky charm. 'N now when I mess up I gotta practically beg some of those guys to leave Benny alone. He's too nice to me already."
"Are they all terrible?"
"No, the regulars, guys in there everyday, they're all great. They're too generous. Benny's too generous. I know he's fluffing up my tip jar. I hate that. I don't want him-" You flinch. It's strange. Eddie takes a small step closer to you and waits for you to continue, but you've lost all steam. "Sorry, I don't mean to weigh you down with all of this."
"I asked. And I get it."
"I don't want him to feel sorry for me."
"Hey," he says, reaching out for a box of cereal on your list. He presents it to Junie and shakes it around, "who said anything about all that?"
"No, I know, I just-"
Junie smiles her approval and he chucks the cereal in your cart with a rattle of metal. "I'm not trying to make you feel worse, I swear. I get it. I- You said he's a nice guy, right? So maybe he doesn't feel sorry for you at all. Maybe he just likes you. He owns that place. I don't think it hurts him to put an extra twenty in your tips."
Junie reaches up. You turn to her and lean down until your face is a few inches from hers. "I wish I didn't need it," you say quietly.
"I know."
Junie puts her hand on your cheek.
You sniff, not crying or anything like that, only breathing. "Thanks, Junie," you murmur.
"Mommy," she says. She sounds a little concerned.
"Let's go get something yummy, baby." You stroke her face lightly. "I'm thinking canned peaches. Or pears, um. Fruit cocktail. And condensed milk," you add, sounding unsure.
"I got a can or two of that laying around," Eddie says, because he knows that shit is expensive. "Wayne hates sweet stuff."
"I couldn't-"
"You let me come over for one of those mini pizzas and I'll bring the dessert," he says, like he knows you'll say yes. He doesn't know. Eddie Munson’s an expert in pushing his luck.
Junie starts clapping her hands together.
"I think she's decided," you say.
-
You're terrible with a can opener. You whine to yourself as you struggle to get open the second can. Eddie had insisted on peaches and pears and fruit cocktail, because he wanted to try them all apparently. And then some dramatic speech about little kids getting spoiled.
You can hear him now in the living room with Junie. They're laughing in a way that you're worried about, that guilty, hushed giggling that raises your hackles.
"Shush," Eddie says, faux-angry, "your mom's gonna hear."
"Shush," she repeats with much more enthusiasm.
"You shush! Look, don't do that, Junie, you're gonna get it tangled in your hair," he says.
You carry the can and can opener with you into the living room. Something about tangled hair gets your heart racing.
"Eddie, please don't let her get stickies in her hair," you say quickly.
"They're called stickles," he says, dropping back onto his hands, head over his shoulder to give you a bright-eyed smile.
"I know what they're called. Junie can't say stickles."
"Stickles," she says.
"She couldn't when I got them," you amend.
He's up quicker than you can really take in, hands extended. "Let me do it," he says.
He works the can out of your fingers. It's more contact than you've had with somebody who wasn't your daughter in a very long time and it leaves you shell-shocked. Eyes on his nice hands, bigger than yours with thicker fingers and his riot of rings. He presses the can to his chest and hooks the opener, peeking between it and you intermittently.
"Go see what we made for you," he encourages. "I'll do it."
His arm brushes yours as he moves to the kitchen and that's worse than his fingers. You rub where he'd touched and drop down on your knees next to Junie, looking over the stickle bricks with a smile. It's a heart, poorly construed and of tens of colours. It falls apart when she tries to pick it up so you help her remake it, cooing.
"Thanks, baby. This is for me, huh? You're so sweet." Your voice drops to a murmur. "My sweet girl. Wanna cuddle?"
You open your arms out and she doesn't seem very interested. "Please?" you ask, vying for her waist.
She lets you pull her into your lap. When you actually start to hug her she does her lovely melting thing that she always does, a floppy fish in your arms but with tiny squeezing hands. You giggle at her antics and lift her up so her face falls into your neck.
"Thanks for my heart, Junebug." She snuggles her head into your neck, hair squished to your skin. "I love you," you whisper, rubbing her back.
"The works," Eddie announces grandly as he appears, two bowls in hand.
"Eddie, that's too much for her."
"She's a growing girl."
"A growing girl with a tiny tummy," you say turning her around in your arms. "Tell you what, you have that one," you point to the biggest one, "and we'll share that one."
"How about you share the big one?" he asks, though it hardly sounds like a question. He sits down and places the bowl in her lap.
You grab the spoon before she can and stir up some of the fruits. "Wow, look at this! You gonna say thanks? Thanks Eddie.”
She doesn’t say thanks — her mouth is too far open to form words. You make quick work of shovelling fruit and condensed milk inside, chilled enough that she shivers in your arms.
“Yeah, that’s good,” you say agreeably.
She gets enthusiastic enough to take the spoon and you let her, even when she totally mauls the food, eating so loudly that Muppet Babies becomes inaudible.
Eddie eats slowly. You can feel his gaze. “You’re not gonna have any?” he asks.
You’d felt it coming. Your answer is clumsy anyways. “No, I will. I just… I always have her leftovers,” you say, sheepish.
He stands up.
You’re gonna ask why when Junie tips fruit down your legs, cold on the naked skin of your ankle. You dab at your pajamas with a small sigh. There’s no point in getting upset. She’s a messy eater but they all are at this age. Honestly, it’s nice to see her attempting to use a spoon rather than her hands.
“You’re doing a good job,” you say. You’re not totally sure who you’re talking to.
“Tada!” Eddie cheers, wielding a third bowl of fruit. “Swap with me?”
“What?”
“You think Junie’ll come sit in my lap?” he asks. He doesn’t wait, really. He holds out the bowl and you take it on impulse as he sits down heavily.
He takes her into his lap with a cheerful groan. “Oh, c’mere, sweetheart. There’s enough milk on your chin to bake a cake.” He wipes it with his hand. He doesn’t so much as wince at the mess.
You stare. He eases the spoon out of her grip and scrapes up a half-spoonful of what looks like pear and feeds it to her with the same kind of deftness of hand that’d taken you months to learn.
He can feel your gaze, evidently, because he looks up. There, you catch it, that slither of insecurity he hides well.
You pick up your bowl and start eating. It’s the nicest thing you’ve eaten in almost two years. You’d die for Junie. You’d do worse. But to eat, to know she’s fed — gorged — to know you can sit here and eat this whole bowl of fruit all to yourself and you won’t have to put it down, that’s heaven. It’s better, because you never let yourself have anything nice if you can help it.
The fruit turns to a lump in your throat and you swallow it, sniffling. Your lashes grow heavy with unshed tears and you keep your gaze resolutely on your dessert. When was the last time you had something this nice all to yourself? When was the last time somebody ever went out of their way to be this nice?
It’s a small gesture and a huge one. A tear dribbles down your cheek. You lick it away and keep on eating.
-
Eddie starts to come around every Friday. It’s a good deal; you make dinner and he makes dessert. After that first time he makes it his mission to give you heaping bowls too much to eat most of the time. Soon, he’s coming a few days a week, not always long, sometimes until the late hours, though you tell him desserts are a Friday only occasion. He complies grudgingly.
You make your first friend in years, and it’s so sweet you don’t know what to do with yourself.
Or what possesses you to offer to cut his hair.
Eddie's sitting on the couch with Junie, his big thigh to her little one and a picture book spread between them whilst you clean the kitchen. He's not reading to her – she's trying to read to him. She can't read, of course, but she can remember some of the words in relation to the pictures. She pokes at the blue cat and says blue. She pokes at the blue dog and says blue. She also points at the red cat and says blue. It's a learning curve.
Eddie gives corrections and encouragements just as you would. You smile at him from behind your cup of water.
"He's red, sweetheart," he murmurs, arm around her shoulder to hold the book's edges. "Red cat."
"Red cat," she repeats with enough accuracy to make you choke on your water.
Eddie gasps almost as loud as you do. "Right! Red cat! You're so smart, junebug, I can't believe it," he praises, squeezing her shoulder. His gaze meets yours and he smiles.
You send him back your sweetest smile. If he wasn't always so nice to you you'd like him anyway because of how he treats Junie, like she's the fucking sun.
She gets so excited when other people are happy that she starts laughing, standing up and trampling all over his legs to give him a hug. She's given him half hugs, she's fallen asleep by his side and loves to pet his hair, but this is a proper, tactile hug. Her arms wind around his neck with purpose and as soon as his surprise has faded he brings his arms up to hug her in turn, laughing delightedly.
"You're such a smarty-pants," he praises, rubbing her back with a boyish brashness.
She squeals as he squeezes her, his fingers digging into her ribs. Never cruel, only tickling her. She eats up every second of it and buries her face in his neck, laughing her wound up baby laugh that always brings a smile to your face.
"Ooh, she's so smart. First blue, then red. Next you'll be saying indigo, and vermillion, and-"
He cuts off when Junie gets one of her nails caught in his hair. She jolts and whines like it hurts and he goes rigid. You move forward to play mediator but he's already pulling her away gently and making small shushing sounds. "Chill out," he chides lightly, "I got it. Here." He pulls the hair from under her fingernail and rubs the pad of his thumb over her hand. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he apologises, pouting at her scowl. He envelops her hand in his and waves it around. "Forgive me?"
She doesn't learn her lesson, pushing her hands back into his hair, probably less kind than what’s ideal. Eddie doesn't flinch.
You sit on the armrest gingerly. "Can I ask you something?"
Eddie looks over Junie’s head. "What's that?"
"Have you always had long hair?"
He doesn't balk. "No, of course not. I fu-" He clears his throat. "My mom was the best, and I fit in just like everybody else growing up. When I ended up with Wayne I was-" He smiles. It's the kind of rueful grimace that says, You didn't ask for this.
You smile encouragingly.
He drops his gaze to Junie, worming his arms around her in a loose hug as she continues to play with his hair. "I was mad about everything, and I remember him asking when I wanted to get my hair trimmed and I said ‘never’. Took a few years for it to grow past the awkward stage," he bares his teeth and nods toward his shoulder, as if allowing his past misdemeanour. "But now I'd say it looks pretty sweet."
"I love your hair," you say.
Eddie beams. "You don't think it's too long?"
Emboldened by his reaction, you slip off of the armrest to sit next to him, turning in until your knees touch. Junie, loyal as she is, climbs straight into your lap with a babble.
You pat her back with one hand and raise the other cautiously for permission. Eddie flares his eyes wide, as if to say, You want to? Go on.
You take a lock of his hair between your fingers like Junie had moments before. "I like it like this."
"But?"
You look at the ends, an inch of limpness where the rest curls. "You haven't had it cut since you were a kid?"
"Maybe not that long, but it's been a while. I do it myself sometimes." He gestures to his bangs. He speaks quietly. A rarity though not unknown for him to be so hushed.
You tuck the curl you'd been examining behind his ear carefully.
"Do you think my hair looks good?" you ask.
"Sh- Sorry, of course I do. I swear I was gonna-"
You shake your head, laughing. "Not like that. What I mean is, I cut my own hair. I cut Junie's, too, and I could do yours if you wanted me to."
He goes quiet.
"Only if you wanted. I know it's a lot of trust, so-"
"Would you do it now?"
You hold Junie's head away from yours to prevent a loving headbut. "Right now?"
"I'm in dire need."
He throws his big brown puppy dog eyes your way and you couldn't say no if you wanted to.
You explain how he needs to get it wet first and how the shower head in the bathroom doesn't detach. "It's, like, built into the wall."
"I could go home, come back?" he suggests.
"I can do it over the sink?"
-
Eddie can't remember the last time somebody washed his hair for him. He knows there must've been a time, some place in his life where his mom or dad had done it for him. He thinks that, if he'd asked, Wayne would've tried it once or twice growing up, but now Eddie's most definitely at the age where having his hair washed is a foreign luxury.
And it does feel luxurious.
It shouldn't; the sink basin is very small as they tend to be in the trailer kitchenettes – small sink, small stove, small small small – and Eddie has to crane his neck. Already the space between his shoulder blades aches from being bent over, and he can't breathe well, smothered by steam.
But your hands. One shields his eyes from run off, a gesture unnecessary and far from lost on him, while the other massages shampoo into his scalp. He'd been surprised when you started because you hadn't mentioned washing his hair, and he'd said, "You don't have to do that."
You'd hummed. "Well, it's kind of a waste not to."
That was that.
Your nails scratch lightly against his scalp and if his eyes weren't already closed they would've fluttered shut. He nibbles his lip and tries very hard not to show outwardly how nice it feels. Your left upper arm rubs against his back as you scrub at his roots, your right soaking wet beside his face, covering his eyes uselessly. He doesn't mention it. All this touching, he doesn't want it to end.
Your proximity honest-to-God sets him on fire. Your body pressed to his is a flame over his ribs.
"Maybe we shouldn't cut it at all," you say, stroking wet bangs away from his forehead. "It's soooo long."
"Can’t do it?" he teases.
"Keep your eyes closed, okay? I'm gonna rinse."
It's a comforting process. You dip your cup into the water. It fills with a wet glug, the rim shushing against the basin's bottom. You hold it over his head and pour carefully, heat caressing his scalp as the soap is washed away.
It's over too soon. You grab the towel you'd procured and tuck it around his shoulders, wringing all the excess water from his curls back into the sink. You encourage his head up wordlessly and he stands there, arms useless against the countertops edge, water sloughing down his face as you press the ends flat between your hands.
You lift his head and push his hair back with your hands, raking your fingers through it and laughing as soon as his face appears. "Eddie! I'm sorry, you're totally drowning."
He chuckles. They fade away as you pinch the corner of the towel and start to dab his face dry, dragging the rough material over his cheeks with an expression he can't read on your pretty features. Almost pensive, not quite.
"There," you say under your breath. "Saved you."
"My hero."
You smile at him softly before spinning on your heel. "I gotta find the hairbrush. And the good scissors." You look into the living room quickly and then turn to the hall leading to your bedroom.
Eddie looks into the living room too. Junie's not upto much, only watching TV, unusually subdued. He doesn't disturb her despite the itch to go over and play.
One of the muppets starts laughing about something and she laughs too.
"What are you smiling about?" you whisper from behind him.
"Nothing," he says quickly.
You raise your eyebrows. "She has a nice laugh, right? Doesn't matter how bad I feel, she laughs and everything's okay for a little while."
He feels a fond stab in his chest. "Her laugh's like yours."
"I guess we do sound the same."
You do, but it's not really what he'd meant.
The metal sound of scissors snapping. You wield them at him faux-threateningly and shepherd him into a chair you've dragged to the middle of the kitchen.
Eddie fights goosebumps as you pull a brush through his hair, loses when you take a lock at the front between two fingers and stop about an inch and a half from the end.
"I'm gonna do that much, okay?"
You're a quiet hairdresser. Eddie doesn't care, he can talk for Indiana, but there's something so sweetly simple about the quietude, just your hands in his hair, the snipping of your scissors and Junie's occasional excited chattering. You start to hum a song Eddie doesn't recognise about halfway through. It's melancholy. He doubts you realise what you're doing.
You draw silent as you round to the front. Eddie watches your hands work for what feels like hours. You have really pretty hands, not perfect, burnt fingertips and neat little nails. They smell like honey hand soap.
You pull two locks from the front together to make sure they're the same length. His curls will hide any discrepancy, he knows from experience, but he doesn't want to tell you that. Selfishly, he wants that extra time with you this close.
You work your way between his legs to comb his half-dried bangs. Eddie looks up at you with wide eyes.
"You want me to trim these, too?" you ask quietly.
"If you please."
You huff a laugh through your nose and start to trim his bangs carefully. He closes his eyes, and maybe it's the fact that he can't see you that gives him the confidence to reach out for your hip, a touch that can't be defined as amicable. He curls his fingers into the soft material of your shirt and feels the heat of your skin underneath.
You draw closer, as close as you can be.
"What made you decide on bangs?" you ask.
"Zits, mostly."
He can feel your laugh under his hand.
"I used to… I used to powder my face," you confide, a murmur, "like, an inch thick to try and hide everything. Being pregnant makes you so-" You pause to snip some hair, comb it away. It tickles his face. "Well, it makes you spotty. Or it made me spotty. It actually made me really sick."
"That's must've sucked," he says earnestly.
"It- Yeah. I guess it did. I don't know."
He hadn't meant to bring up something unhappy, but he's hungry to know. "Were you on your own?"
"Mostly."
"What was the worst part?"
"Being scared all the time."
He'd been expecting morning sickness or aching feet. "You were scared?"
"I honestly thought I was gonna die, Eddie."
He opens his eyes and leans back in his chair, hand flexing over your hip, as he tries to tamp down his surprise.
"It was," you mess with his bangs with the tip of your ring finger, "hard. I felt sick all the time, and when I didn't I would make myself sick worrying about her. What if I eat something or I catch something and it hurts her? What if- what if it all works out perfectly and then I can't look after her?"
"Did it work out perfect?"
You rub your lips together. "Uh, I guess so. It took a long time, and it hurt," you sound especially unhappy with that part.
He strokes up your waist, wanting to soothe the small crease between your eyebrows. "By yourself?"
"Yeah, by myself."
"I'm sorry."
You tuck his hair behind his ear and grin at him. "Now what are you sorry for?" Your hand lingers near his cheek. Slowly, you turn it, pressing the knuckle of your index finger into the skin under his eye and rubbing a small line. He worries he’s in love with you right then and there. "Not like you're the one who knocked me up."
You drop your hand and Eddie really doesn't want you to go anywhere, his grip kind but steadfast, bringing the other arm behind your back in a loose hug. "Who was it?"
"Just some guy. Nobody. Nobody worth thinking about."
"How old were you?" he asks.
"Why are you asking me all this stuff?"
"I wanna know about you."
You bring your hands to the towel around his neck and pull on it mildly. "I was sixteen. Seventeen when I had her."
He drags his fingertips up and down the small of your back lightly, almost like he's playing guitar. "I'm sorry you were all by yourself. That young. When I was sixteen I was still watching The Bugs Bunny Show."
You giggle and your hands move up to the side of his neck. He can hardly breathe, afraid to dispel whatever enchantment it is that he's under.
"Could be worse, huh? I'm nineteen and I still watch Muppet Babies," you joke.
"Why wouldn't you? It's the pinnacle of modern television."
"Yeah?"
Your beaming smile hits him straight in the chest. He thinks about how beautiful you look and can't stop, hiding his face in your stomach to stop from saying something stupid, laughing loud. You laugh in tandem, hugging the back of his head until your giggles peter out.
A small hand on his arm. You both turn at the same time and find a very unhappy Junie.
"What?" you ask her. Then, teasing, "Are you jealous?"
You lean down to pick her up. Eddie's gutted to lose your touch and then quickly exuberant when Junie ducks out of your arms to grab at his legs.
"Oh my god, yes," he says, holding out his hands.
Junie tries to take them and he slips them under his arm, pulling her onto his thigh with a big sigh. The sigh is half the fun, a theatrical reluctance when really he's always happy to have her climbing on him.
As soon as she's in his lap she's pleased, turning her head so she can watch the TV across the room.
You roll your eyes at his smug smile. "Shut up. She just wants what other people have."
"And you had me?"
"Shut up, Munson, seriously," you say. You don't sound half as mad as you're trying to.
Eddie takes a drying curl between his fingers and pokes at the side of Junie's face. "Whatever you want, sweetheart," he says, grinning when your daughter starts to squirm on his thigh.
He grins at her and tickles her until she's curling in with her chin dropped to her chest, smiling despite herself.
His fondness colours every word as he croons, "I got you."
Junie sounds about as outraged as a toddler can be when he tickles her nose and then drags the tip of the freshly trimmed curl under her eye. He draws a big circle around one of her cheeks until it's kissing her chin. She dissolves into giggles while squirming to get away from him and so he stops, only for her to blink and tug at his wrist.
He tickles her until she's screaming.
You pause on your knees where you'd been sweeping up his trimmed hair to look up at her and he's struck with guilt. "Y/N, you don't have to do that. I'll do it."
"No, you're okay."
Eddie finds his gaze drawn to your thighs, spread out as they are in your kneeling position, and then stolen by Junie as she almost topples off of his lap.
"I think…" he begins quietly, speaking to Junie though it's just as much for you, "that your mom deserves something nice for my haircut. What do you think?"
"I don't think that," you say.
"Wasn't asking you," he says seriously. Back in baby mode he continues, "What's mommy like, huh? What's her favourite thing in the whole world, besides you?"
"Sleep," you say.
"Well, I can't help you there."
"You help me there all the time. Junie sleeps like a log every Friday."
"Food coma," he says knowledgeably.
"You really don't have to get me anything, Eddie. My services were administered charitably."
He pushes his hands behind Junie's back and pulls her to his chest before standing. When he has her secure in one arm he pulls the chair back to your small table and tucks it in.
"Get up," he says to you. "I'll do it, alright? Swap with me."
You ignore him until he starts kicking you in the leg. "You're ridiculous!"
"You're ridiculous. Seriously, get up. You're not a serf." He returns your glare. "I'm a big boy, I can clean up after myself."
"It's my house."
"If you don't let me-"
"Christ! Okay." You drop the dustpan and brush sullenly, wiping your hands together as you stand before taking Junie out of his arms. "I'll make dinner."
"No you won't! I'm gonna order takeout," he says factually, already on his knees and sweeping.
"No you're not."
"I am. Me and June already talked about it. She's craving Marino's pizza."
"I'm not gonna let you use the phone."
"I'll walk to my place and order the pizza to here."
"Eddie-"
"Why are you being a hardass?" he asks.
"Fine! God, clean up your gross hair and order your stupid pizza. You're making me crazy," you say, collapsing onto the sofa with a little oomf, Junie's weight hitting you hard in the chest. She moves into a sitting position and pulls your shirt up, hands moving across the space under your chest.
Eddie throws himself into cleaning all the mess you'd made for him, the hair and the towel and the sopping wet draining board. He washes the dirty baby bowl on the side and fills up one of Junie's bottles with water, then a glass for you. He hasn't seen either of you drinking a thing since he's been here, likely his fault for distracting you.
He's about to call for pizza when he peers past the cabinets and sees you dozing on the couch. He decides pizza can wait until tomorrow; it's later than he realised.
Junie's halfway across the room with Mr. Bear playing make believe. She talks and talks and talks, gibberish to him but what's likely an unending, complicated storyline, no doubt.
Eddie approaches with the bottle already outstretched. "Junie," he says, and when she doesn't answer, "Junebug. Junie. Junie." Each iteration of her name softer and sweeter than the first, hoping to entice her in.
He holds the bottle in front of her face.
She finally looks up with a pout.
"For you," he says, offering the water.
She seems mildly interested as she takes it, turning back to her teddy and talking around the teat like it's not there.
You're struggling to keep your eyes open. Eddie gives the room a quick once over before kneeling down in front of you, tugging your shirt down to cover your exposed tummy as he says, "I should head home."
You blink at him and turn onto your side, cheek squishing into the couch cushion.
"Okay? Why don't you and Junebug head to bed?" he asks, using a tone not far from what he'd use with your daughter.
"You know, her full name's Juniper," you whisper.
He didn't know. "Really? I love that."
You wrinkle your nose, sounding very tired as you continue, "But someone told me it sounded like a name for a cat. So I've called her Junie ever since."
"It doesn't sound like a cat's name," he placates. "It's beautiful. You chose well."
"Yeah?"
Eddie smiles at you fondly, eyes tracing down your nose to your lips, shiny with balm. He tilts his head to the side to mimic yours. He could kiss you.
"Sounds like the name of an elf. Juniper Lightfoot, or… Goldwind. She could even be a mage. Juniper the Brave."
"Juniper the Loveliest," you say, and then grin. "Juniper the Hungriest."
"Juniper the All Great and Hungriest," Eddie says decidedly.
"Would you make her a hero, in your game?" you ask.
"Of course I would. She wouldn't even need to divide, she'd just conquer."
"What about me?"
"What, would you be a hero?"
You nod. He doesn't know why, but he thinks his answer is going to hold a lot of weight with you.
"You would be," he starts quietly, words painted slowly as he raises a hand to rest on your wrist, pinky finger spread over the hill of your thumb, "a fighter. With insight and survival."
"I don't know what that means," you say.
He leans in. "It means yes, you'd be a hero. You'd save kingdoms. Slay dragons." He squeezes your wrist.
"I think I better leave all that stuff for Junie. I'll just cheer you guys on from the sidelines."
"You're her mom, she can't do it without you. And even if she could I bet she wouldn't want to. Where's all the fun in guts and glory if you can't share it?" he asks, rubbing his thumb over your skin.
Your eyes shut. Eddie doesn't know if it's from fatigue or a want to end this conversation. He feels marginally embarrassed for descending into nerd metaphor with you, but he thinks it's the kind of thing you needed to hear. He thinks if Junie could understand how often her mom prioritises her and misses out for her she'd want to fix that. Eddie doesn't know you half as well as she does and it breaks his heart sometimes to watch you insist on a smaller portion, to watch you put things back at the grocery store because she wants a box of milk duds, even to watch you wear yourself out ironing baby clothes in the only pair of pajamas you own.
"Make sure you lock the deadbolt behind me," he says carefully. You hum. He gives your wrist one last squeeze.
Junie looks tired in that she's getting agitated, whimpering under her breath. Eddie ducks down to give her upper arm a good rub. "Why don't you go cuddle with your mom?" he asks her, turning her by the shoulder so that you're in her eye-line. "Go have a lie down."
He doesn't know whether what he says makes any difference but you extend your arms out and Junie walks towards you, big staggered steps that make him laugh to himself as he pushes into his unlaced converse.
"Don't forget to lock up," he says in place of a farewell.
"Goodnight, Eddie," you say.
He waves. You're both too tired to wave back.
He's surprised to find his Uncle Wayne still home when he gets in, shoving into his work boots with a grunted hello.
"Hey."
"Did you cut your hair?" Wayne asks, perplexed, a little gruff.
"Junie's mom did it for me."
"'Junie's mom,'" Wayne quotes dryly, slugging his bag over his shoulder. He's heard all about Junie's mom.
Eddie scratches the back of his neck and splutters when a big hand claps his back, a demonstration of Wayne's pity as he passes through the open door.
Eddie spins to watch him jog down the steps. "We're friends," Eddie calls.
"Don't be dumb," his uncle says without turning back.
"I'm not exactly known for being smart," Eddie says to himself, cheeks heated by a furious blush.
𓆩❤︎𓆪
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𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞
(dad!eddie x mom!reader)
Summary: Eddie has to shower before he can hold his impatient baby. She's having none of it.
a/n: i was attacked by yet ANOTHER cute baby tiktok so here we are with a little bit of grease monkey!eddie and another little drabble. set in the early days of the pennyverse. and yes, i've used this gif before but he's dead so i'm running out of them. mistakes might be fixed later, i dont know :)
“Are these your little fingers?” You asked your baby, tone saturated in honey and affection as you held the chunky palm in question, lips pressed to her pudgy fingertips.
Despite your aversion to it prior to your pregnancy, you’d inevitably developed a baby voice when Penny had come into the world and you couldn’t be blamed. Not when she was all squish, delicate cheeks holding so much chub they bulged, and rolls decorated her little limbs. She was a glutton, always demanding your milk and you couldn’t deny her; those big, gorgeous eyes she’d inherited from her father made it nearly impossible to, even when the wetness welling up in them were completely alligator tears. And those curls.
Regardless of taming them with some water, a brush and maybe some vaseline, they ended up wild, flying about or mussed and matted to her head with sweat because your baby was a little heater when she slept and napped. Just like her daddy.
Your smile widened in size when you heard the sound of keys slotting into place at the front door, the lock mechanism giving away. It tripled when you realized your baby also recognized the sound, head turning to stare at the door as she bobbed in place, thick legs squatting and then popping back up as you held her by her waist with your other hand, assisting her with standing.
The moment Eddie opened the door and came into view she began cooing and squealing in excitement, mouth parting in a wide smile as drool raced down from the corner of her mouth.
You laughed, and so did Eddie as he heard his baby welcoming him home.
“You excited to see me, sweet pea?” He cooed right back, walking over to squat in front of the two of you, eyes raking over you momentarily in appreciation before focusing on the little one in your arms.
She let out another long coo that ended on an airy sigh, pulling her hand from your grasp to reach both of her pudgy ones out to him, practically begging him to hold her as she began wiggling in your arms.
Eddie’s head tilted, lips curling into the most tender smile as he stared down at her with nothing but love swimming in those eyes he’d shared with her.
“Daddy missed you and mommy so much.” He whispered, a hand reaching out, almost close enough to caress her soft cheek but it hesitated before he could touch her. His rough, grease covered finger was a stark contrast to her clean, smooth skin. Clearly, you’d given her a bath before he got home because her mouth and cheeks were usually covered in the food you were starting to offer her (sometimes baby food, but mostly bits of your food because she wouldn’t accept any offerings of mushed up veggies and fruits if there was something else on your plate, hence why your diet had been pretty bland and not at all a result of the tight budget your maternity leave left you on).
The rest of his hands were no better, palms stained, streaks all over his arms as a result of shucking the top half of the monkey suit and rolling up his sleeves at the garage.
There were even a few streaks of grease and maybe oil on his face and neck. Your husband smelled more so of tires than he had the spicy cologne that surrounded you when he’d kissed you goodbye in bed this morning.
And he knew it.
Penny didn’t let that stop her, still eagerly reaching out for him as she grunted to try and provoke him in swooping her up into his embrace.
“As soon as daddy’s clean, okay? I’ll pick you up and my sweet girl can give me all the cuddles she wants.” He promised, hands on his knees before he stood back up, leaning over her to give you a sweaty, greasy oh so sweet and firm press of the lips kiss before he swiveled around and disappeared into the small bathroom as quickly as he could to be out of hearing range when Penny began whimpering at his absence.
You heard the shower start running at the exact moment she began to cry and you offered a sympathetic whine of your own as you adjusted your grip on her, bringing Penny up to your chest, your cheek smushed against her more plump one.
“Shhh…it’s okay, my love. Daddy’s just showering. He’ll be back.” You stood up, hitching Penny on your hip as you walked to the entrance of the small hallway so the bathroom door was visible to her. Eddie’s humming floated out from underneath the crack of it.
Penny was Eddie’s daughter, alright, full of dramatics as her breathing remained heavy, chest rising and falling quickly with the hitches in her breath as a chunky fist gripped onto your blouse, lower lip curling out and wobbling. She didn’t seem satisfied with your explanation but that didn’t worry you. If Penny was awake when Eddie left for work in the morning, she’d start bawling.
The first couple of times she’d started reacting to his departure, he’d ended up full of guilt and late to work. It still wasn’t easy for him, even after you’d finally convinced him she’d have the same reaction whether he left in the morning, afternoon, or evening. Regardless of the time, she was going to be upset that she wouldn’t be able to see her daddy, probably convinced in her little baby mind that he’d abandoned her (he’d nearly quit the shop when you’d phrased it like that) but he’d always come home to her—and you—and that’s what mattered.
You were positive she’d start yelling and shrieking when it came time for you to go back to work, too. She was just a baby, so she was being a baby.
You carried your huffing and puffing daughter back to the living room, placing her down on the carpet in front of some toys she had been playing with earlier in the day. Maybe they’d distract her.
Wrong.
She sat on the carpet, chunky legs strewn out for just a few seconds before she was moving forward onto her belly and propping herself up. Then she was off, crawling as fast as she could towards the hallway while breathing heavily with exhilaration. You trailed after her, amused at how stubborn she was when she stopped directly in front of the bathroom door, propping herself up on her bottom.
You watched Penny reach out with shaky palms, pressing them gently against the door. It looked like they were feeling around it before she began slapping them against it as hard as she could as she yelled her baby babble, no doubt demanding her daddy open the door, pick her up and love her right now.
Giggles were muffled into your palm, as she kept up with it.
Eventually, maybe when she realized that wasn’t working, Penny leaned over, wiggling around until she was on her tummy and the side of her head was resting on the carpet. You realized she was trying to look under the door for him and your heart clenched, hand flying over your chest as if you could grasp the organ.
You expected her to sit back up and go back to smacking the door but she remained there, a stubby finger absentmindedly trailing through the carpet as she stared through the thin crack, warm bathroom light and Eddie’s voice flooding out from underneath to comfort her as she waited.
Picking her up had crossed your mind, and so did the idea of how loudly she’d probably start screaming and crying if you did.
The two of you didn’t have to wait for long, the shower shut off and you could hear the sounds of the shower curtain rings scraping against the rod as Eddie pulled them back.
Panic briefly filled your chest as you realized Eddie probably wasn’t expecting his baby to be lying on the floor directly outside of the bathroom—he’d step on her, so you called out, “Heads up, Eddie, you’ve got a visitor.”
You didn’t hear a response, but a few moments later, the door opened to reveal your husband. Water droplets slipped down his neck and chest. He had one towel—that had definitely seen better days—wrapped around his waist and another (yours) he was using to scrunch up his sopping wet curls to dry them.
Eddie had heard you, shooting you a smirk before he addressed the baby beaming up at him, “Shower’s free if you wanna hop in, stinky.”
Penny had no idea what he was saying, it didn’t matter anyways because he said it in the same voice he used when he gave her kisses and held her to his chest so she was reaching up for him and he finally reached down—with clean hands—grasping her sides before she was hoisted into his arms. Penny wasted no time, mouth parting wide to mouth aggressively at his face and chin while she shook her head and wiggled about.
She was giving him kisses.
Or trying to eat him, she had little bursts of energy where she’d do that—attack you out of nowhere while you held her causing the both of you to break out laughing.
Eddie let her get it all out, and when she cooed, resting her cheek on his shoulder, he retaliated. Her cheeks and little neck rolls were smattered in his smacking kisses as she squealed and shrieked and wiggled but there was no escaping her daddy’s clutches now that she was finally in them.
When every inch of her available to him had been kissed, he turned towards you and you suddenly found yourself victim to two sets of identical crinkly brown eyes. A deep chuckle rumbled from Eddie as he padded over to where you stood, mischievous smirk making another appearance.
“Mommy’s turn.”
#Eddie Munson x reader#dad!eddie munson x reader#girl dad!eddie munson#pennyverse#dilf!eddie munson#dilf!eddie munson x reader#dad!Eddie Munson x mom!reader#Eddie Munson fluff#Eddie Munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x afab reader#Eddie Munson x black!reader#Eddie Munson blurb#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#Eddie Munson fanfic#Eddie Munson fic#stranger things#stranger things 4#stranger things vol 1#stranger things vol 2#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#queenimmadolla#mechanic!eddie munson
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Late Night Visits
Eddie Munson x Harrington!Virgin!Reader
Second fanfic is smut? Not proofread because this is an adapted excerpt from a much longer fanfic that I've been writing for a long time.
Eddie catches you dropping Max off and invites you over, he teaches you how to smoke weed and smut ensues.
TW: smut, marijuana use, dubcon? (they are both high so take that as you will), p in v sex, fingering, loss of virginity, afab reader, she/her pronouns.
Word count: 6.8k
MDNI!
masterlist
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You turned your car into the trailer park, Kate Bush blasting in the car as you took Max Mayfield home. Your older brother, Steve, had asked you to give her a ride after his band of high school freshmen had come over for a movie night, Max was singing along, closing her eyes as she drummed her hands on her thighs. You could feel yourself smiling as you looked at her out of the corner of your eye. She was vibrant, glowing under every streetlamp you passed.
The lights in her trailer were still on when you parked out front, grabbing the mixtape out of the stereo. Max was already out of the car and snatching her bag out of the backseat by the time you got out, leaning on the driver side door as you waited for her. You made it a rule to always watch anyone you dropped off go inside, especially after what happened with Will.
“Max?” Sue called, leaning out the front door. You couldn’t quite make out her face, but the tension in her tone was obvious.
“Hey Mrs. Mayfield!” you yelled back, waving. Her sigh of relief was loud enough to be heard down the street. She went back inside without saying anything else, leaving the front door open for Max to follow. The lights from the TV lit her up as she settled back into the couch, crossing her ankles as she grabbed her beer off the side table.
“Don’t forget this.” You tossed the mixtape to Max as she passed. She called back a thanks and a quick goodnight as she ran up to her front door, slamming it behind her. You huffed, letting your head roll back and rest on the roof of the car as you looked at the stars.
Life had felt off lately, your parents were still gone a majority of the time and you were a senior in high school. You’d been getting nightmares, strange dreams of your parents screaming at you that you were a disappointment in comparison to Steve and how they were ashamed you were their daughter. Their mouths would end up sewn shut, blood dripping down their chins. You hadn’t slept right in weeks.
“What are you doing aaaaall the way out here, prom queen?” The way Eddie Munson stretched his vowels was unmistakable. You looked over your shoulder at the trailer across the way, seeing him toss a bag in the trash can out front by the curb. If you didn’t recognize him instantly, the beat-up van out front was a dead give-away.
There was something about Eddie that ignited a flare of excitement in your spine, it was a thrill that he was even talking to you. You’d had classes together, seen him in the halls, but never really acknowledged one another more than a simple nod of greeting.
“Just dropping off a friend,” you called back, spinning the rest of the way around to get a better look at him. You pressed your stomach against the driver side window as you crossed your arms on the roof. The metal was warm as you rested your chin on your forearms. He was backlit by the floodlight, his frizzy hair glowing gold.
Eddie cocked his head to the side. “You feelin’ okay to drive?” he yelled, you felt yourself stiffen. There was a rumor flying around the high school that you were showing up drunk. It turns out that you were just exhausted beyond belief. You looked back at Max’s trailer to see if there was any movement inside. “Just with your new habits and all.”
You’d been going through a confrontational streak lately. You marched around the car and right up to him, your fists balled at your sides. Eddie was grinning like an idiot as he watched you approach, crossing his arms over his chest like it was a challenge. You’d never seen him look so casual before, wearing only a black tank top and tattered plaid pajama pants. Usually he was decked to the nines, trying to look like a member of Motley Crue on their day off.
“Will you shut up!” you seethed, watching his eyes sparkle as you came to a halt in front of him. He opened his mouth and sucked in a deep breath, raising his head to the sky like he was getting ready to shout. Oh my god he’s just fucking with you now. You pressed your hand across his mouth, whatever he was trying to say muffled by your palm. You couldn’t help the smile that was spreading across your face as you looked back over your shoulder at Max’s. “Seriously, Sue knows my mom! And I wasn’t even drinking!”
He made a noise to get your attention, your hand still smacked across the bottom part of his face as you felt him smile. Then you felt his warm, wet tongue lick a stripe across your palm. Your face twisted into a grimace as you pulled your hand away, wiping the spit on your sweater as a smile twitched the edges of your mouth.
“Alright, alright. Just didn’t expect to see you on this side of the tracks.” You cocked your head, what did he mean? He gasped dramatically, raising a hand to fan his face as he batted his lashes. “Oh Mr. Munson, I could never be caught dead in a trailer park. What would my loyal subjects at Hawkins High say?” His voice was high pitched and aloof, mocking you.
You laughed, a flush heating your cheeks as you were caught off guard. “Shut up! I don’t sound like that.” He dropped the act, smiling as he looked you up and down.
“What are you doing the rest of tonight?” he asked, scratching his cheek with his pointer finger. Your eyes narrowed slightly, was he trying to make a move? “Hey, not trying to steal your virtue or anything,” Eddie laughed, looking sheepishly down at his bare feet, “just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out or something.”
You appraised him for one more moment, nodding solidly. “Sure, but we are keeping it platonic with a capital P, Munson.” The smile that bloomed on his face could have lit up the whole block as he nodded enthusiastically. He crossed his fingers over his heart with a flourish as he turned to lead you inside the quaint trailer.
The aroma of cologne and weed hit you first as you walked up the porch, Eddie opening the door wider. You stepped inside carefully, looking around as you toed your shoes off in the corner. It was cozy inside, maybe a little cluttered and messy. The carpet in the living room was squishing under my socks. The black loveseat and mismatched recliner took up most of the space, minimal furniture along the walls otherwise. There was a small kitchen off to the side and some stools at a breakfast bar.
“Yeah, it’s no White House.” Eddie shut the door and locked it. Was he… self conscious?
“It’s nice,” you said, looking over your shoulder at him. His eyebrows shot up in a ‘whatever you say’ vibe as he shrugged and walked inside. “Is this your place?”
He was shutting the door at the end of the hall, his bedroom? “No, my uncle lives here with me–works nights at the plant. Makes the big bucks.”
Eddie sat in the recliner with a groan, stretching his legs out under the coffee table. He gestured to the loveseat next to him with a ringed hand, a clear sign to join him. Of course he’d wear all his jewelry in his pajamas. You sat down, crossing your legs beneath you as you sank into the well-loved couch. “What are we watching?” you asked, resting your cheek on the rough fabric.
He held out a stack of movies: “I just got these from Family Video.” You pressed your lips together, taking them out of his hands.
You shuffled through, mostly horror titles. “Wow, no Grease?” You giggled at his expression before continuing through the selection. “What about Return of the Jedi?” You were way too skittish to watch horror movies anymore, you already couldn’t sleep as it was–you didn’t need anything to help with that.
You pushed the movie in his hands before he had time to protest, placing the rest on the coffee table. “Really, Return of the Jedi?” Eddie asked, getting up from his seat to put the movie in the VHS player.
You nodded matter-of-factly, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re the one who rented it,” you argued, watching the commercials begin to play on the TV. A blue light cast over the living room as he sat back down. The lamp next to you clicked as he switched it off with a twist of his fingers.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d have to call you a geek, prom queen.” His voice strained as he reached over the far side of the recliner for something. He produced a bong with a flourish, the glass glimmering in the low light. The slightly murky water sloshed around inside as he set it on the end table between you, pulling the bowl out. You tried not to stare, you’d only ever seen bongs in passing at parties.
You watched out of the corner of your eye as he dumped the contents into an ashtray on the end table, scraping the inside of it clean with a pocket knife. He produced a metal cylinder out of what seemed like nowhere, pulling the top half of it off carefully. His movements were delicate and methodical, clearly he’d done this a thousand times.
“You want some?” he asked as he put the bowl back in it, holding the glass piece out to you by its neck. He held a zippo lighter in the other hand. You watched him spin the square of metal between his forefinger and thumb, thinking of an answer.
The truth was better than anything else. “Oh, uh, I’ve never smoked before,” you muttered, glancing down at your hands. Your nail polish was horrendously chipped, a nervous habit you’d picked up over the summer.
“Well if you want to try, on the house.” His voice was gentle as he held it out to you again. An offering. You shifted slightly to face him, your gaze bouncing between the bong and his soft brown eyes.
Hesitantly, you took it from his hand. Your fingers bumped his as you grabbed the neck of it, the glass cool to the touch. Your other hand had to support the base—it was heavier than you expected. “I uh, I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted, a nervous grin pulling at your lips.
“Don’t worry it’s easy, I’ll help you,” he murmured, getting up to sit on the coffee table in front of you. His knees bracketed yours, the soft fabric of his pajama pants rubbing against your jeans. The minty smell of his shampoo was thick in your nose. “Alright, so, put your mouth on the top. You should feel the rim of the mouthpiece on the outside of your lips.” He watched you do it, your hand still holding the neck. You already felt self conscious.
“Okay good, now I���ll help you with the rest. Pretty girls should never light their own bowls—got it?” You fought the urge to protest, just rolling your eyes instead.
“So just do what I tell you.” You gave him a brief nod, barely lifting your head. He was grinning mischievously. You looked at him through your lashes as he flicked the lighter on, putting the flame to the bowl. “Okay suck in.” God, you must be as red as a tomato by now.
His other hand came up to hold the bottom of the bong, his calloused fingers overlapping yours. You resisted shying away from his touch. His hands were warm as he lifted it a little, letting you straighten your spine. You could hear the water bubbling as the bong filled with a thick white smoke. It was a few seconds before he plucked the smoldering bowl out, letting you suck the contents into your lungs.
You sat up abruptly, tears in your eyes as you fought to keep the smoke in. The bong was thrust back to him clumsily in your haste to get away from it. You managed to last a few seconds before you coughed it out, blowing smoke over his living room. “Jesus Christ,” you grunted between coughs. It felt like your chest was on fire. Eddie was chuckling, going to the kitchen. You could hear the sink running before a mason jar full of water was set on the coffee table.
“That was pretty good for your first time.” He repeated the same motions with himself, exhaling the smoke slowly as he settled back into the recliner. You couldn’t stop coughing, your throat feeling like you tried to swallow steel wool. “You’ll cough less the more you get used to it, everyone coughs their first time,” he said encouragingly, motioning for you to drink water.
You finally were able to breathe again, taking deep gulps of air. You wiped the last of the tears out of the corners of your eyes on the back of your hand. Thankfully you hadn’t bothered to put on makeup tonight.
“Now’s time for the fun to begin,” he whispered, grinning as he rubbed his hands together. You watched the tattoos on his arms flex as the muscle under them moved–slightly surprised by how many he had.
“When am I supposed to feel it?” you asked, the beginning credits of the movie starting. You watched the yellow text fly across the screen, your fingers nervously twisting a loose thread of your sweater.
“Oh, you’ll know when you feel it.” You nodded, tucking your feet back under your thighs as you leaned against the arm of the loveseat.
It must have been a mere ten minutes later when you realized your face was buzzing and your head was full of air. Your eyes moved slower than you thought they would, taking snapshots of the room before settling back on the screen. At some point you’d slid off the couch and onto the floor, contorting yourself in the small space between it and the coffee table.
“How you feelin’, prom queen?” Eddie was still in the recliner, leaning back but not fully stretched out yet. His pajama pants looked soft, you fought the urge to touch the fabric.
You laughed—like, really laughed rather than your practiced soft giggle—your head rolling back so you could look at him. He was grinning broadly, watching you with his arms stretched over the back of the chair. “M’feeling pretty good,” you said, trying to stifle your giggles. What was so funny?
Eddie giggled along with you, running a hand through his messy hair. “Yeah, you’re definitely feeling it.” He looked goofy upside down. His hair was curling in all directions as he shook it back out, turning his attention to the movie. You lifted your head, feeling like you were fighting the full weight of earth’s gravity to look at the TV again.
It felt like you had blinders on, your peripheral vision swirling dizzily. You barely moved as Eddie got up from the recliner to disappear somewhere. Your breath was shallow, you could feel every fiber of the carpet rubbing against your socks. The sweater you wore was warm, practically making you melt into the shape of the furniture. Your limbs were heavy, everytime you moved it was like fighting molasses. Was this how being stoned always was?
The smell of food brought you back to the present as Eddie settled back down, a big plate in his hands. You watched him pick up a piece of food and put it in his mouth, immediately hissing as he burned his tongue. “Shit are those pizza rolls?” Your stomach rumbled, were you always this hungry?
He laughed, “If you want some, you gotta come sit up here with me, pretty girl.” You scrambled, feeling progressively more uncoordinated as you pulled yourself to a standing position. Your joints cracked as you stretched, feeling a little dizzy as the blood rushed to your head. You slumped into the couch, leaning far over the arm of it and the end table as you reached for one. “They’re hot,” he warned, sounding like a babysitter.
You rolled your eyes, biting the corner off it carefully and letting the steam billow out. “You’re a freak, no one eats pizza rolls like that,” Eddie said, but his smile gave him away. You watched the steam swirl in your breath, disappearing quickly.
You stuck yourr tongue out, eating the pizza roll in one mouthful after it cooled. You chewed thoroughly, swallowing with a gulp of water. “At least I didn’t burn my tongue.” Not to mention, it was the most delicious thing you’d ever tasted.
The pizza rolls were long gone and the movie had ended a while ago. The Twilight Zone played on the TV, but neither of you were paying attention. “So like, am I a stoner now?” you asked, laughing quietly. The question even sounded stupid when it tumbled out of your mouth.
“I’d say you are a hopeless drug-addict,” he joked. He had taken another hit only moments before, letting you have the remnants. It reinvigorated the goofy haze. Your head was buzzing again and you just let thoughts tumble out of your mouth.
You scoffed, shoving his shoulder lightly. “You wish, Munson.” You were smiling as you ran your hands through your hair, tossing it against the part. You were sure it was sticking up in a million places, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to care.
Eddie’s umber colored eyes darted to look at you, dragging up you in a way that set you on fire. You felt yourself squirm under his heavy gaze, your lips parting a bit. “Thanks for asking me to hang out,” you blurted. You cracked your knuckles as you shifted around, trying to find a new comfortable position.
The seam of your jeans kept pressing in all the right places, making you wiggle your hips in an attempt to get it to stop. You’d never felt this sensitive before, but now every sensation seemed to send a tingle up your spine and heat in your belly. A flush covered your cheeks, your gaze tracking back to the television.
“You okay? You seem awfully… squirmy there, prom queen,” Eddie murmured, his gaze still focused on you. His eyes were softened at the edges with concern, the whites of them bloodshot.
“Yeah, um, just trying to get comfortable,” you said, stilling into a position despite your heart pounding in your chest. A rumor had been flying around Hawkins High that Eddie was… well endowed. All of a sudden you were curious to see if it was true. “S’just getting to my head, I guess.”
One of his eyebrows lifted enough to disappear under his bangs. Eddie stood from the recliner, moving to sit next to you on the small couch. His arm looped behind you, bat tattoos printed into the pale skin as he stooped to make eye contact. “You alright? Don’t want you getting overwhelmed, prom queen. Some people get anxious when they’re stoned.”
You couldn’t help the overwhelming heat that consumed your whole face and neck. “I-I’m not anxious, I promise,” you mumbled, your tongue darting out to wet your lower lip on its own volition. Eddie was sitting close to you, his knee pressing into your thigh. You could smell mint, tobacco, and weed on him, the combination making your stomach flip.
“You sure? I really can’t let Harrington’s little sister have a heart attack on my couch,” he murmured, moving a little closer. You giggled half-heartedly, glancing at the television for a moment to give yourself a second to not think about the way Eddie is crowding you against the arm of the couch.
“M’sure,” you said, your voice soft and a bit airy. You didn’t look back at Eddie, your face still hot. You pressed your thighs together a bit, the friction helping relieve some of the pressure building between your legs.
Eddie’s calloused thumb hooked under your chin, directing your gaze back to him. He had a gentle smile on his face, leaning forward toward you. “What’s going on in your brain, pretty girl?” he asked, his eyes crinkling warmly at the corners. Your breath was shallow in your throat, your chest tightening as you looked at the metalhead in front of you.
“I dunno,” you said, his fingers pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger keeping your head in place. His eyes flickered between your lips and eye contact with you. It made your mind short-circuit, clumsily trying to work toward an answer for his question that wasn’t the honest answer. “Does, uh, weed ever make you feel… weird?” you asked, wanting to smack yourself as the words left your lips.
“Weird how?” Eddie asked, his fingers finally left your chin. His large hand curled around your shoulder, squeezing lightly. Every touch kept sidetracking you–you’d done some things with guys before. Kissing and making out and touching weren’t new to you, but you hadn’t really ever gone farther than that. You never wanted to–but you did now.
You didn’t stop to think about it, not even considering whether or not you should ask Eddie if he was okay with it before you leaned forward and twisted your head up to capture his lips in a kiss as you shut your eyes. You could feel him smile against your mouth, the hand curled around your shoulder continuing on its path to press between your shoulder blades. Eddie leaned forward, the small of your back hitting the armrest of the love seat.
It went from hesitant and tentative to needy, your lips slotting together and noses mashing against one another as you both got more into the kiss. Eddie’s other hand found the back of your neck, his fingers slotting into your hair as he tilted your head just the way he wanted it. His lips parted, his tongue slicking along your bottom lip before you let it lick into your mouth.
You only parted when your lungs were on fire, your mouths separating with a soft click and a gossamer string of saliva illuminated by the warm light of the lamp behind you. Your eyes fluttered open, already finding Eddie looking down at you as he smoothed a hand down your back and around your waist. Chests heaving and foreheads bumping together, you both smiled and giggled sheepishly,
“Weird like that,” you whispered, a tinge of a joke in your tone. Your body was twisted, both of your feet on the carpet as you twisted at the waist to face Eddie. His knees were pointed toward you, one leg bent beneath him as his other pressed into the floor to get leverage.
He smiled, his hand dipping to run his fingertips along the hem of your sweater. “Good weird, then,” Eddie mumbled, stamping his lips over yours with an urgency you didn’t expect. You twisted your body in a comfortable position, slotting your legs around his slim waist as you returned his fervent kisses.
His hand slipped beneath your sweater, ghosting along the soft skin on your belly. The sensation of Eddie’s fingers on your skin made your breath hitch. You could feel the clench in your lower abdomen, need burrowing deep within you as his hand continued to travel upward. He cupped over the fabric of your bra, his thumb pressing the swell of your breast just along the edge of it.
“Eddie,” you whimpered against his mouth, the press of his index finger through the thin padding of your bra to tease your stiffened nipple making you keen. He smirked, repeating the motion by circling the hardened nub with the pad of his index finger over the slippery polyester. Your breath stuttered in your throat, desperation clouding along the edges of your eyes as he tilts you even further over the arm of the couch.
“Feelin’ okay, princess?” he asked, rubbing turning into heavy petting as he pinched your nipple between his index and middle fingers. Your brows were pinched together, your back arching as you chased the sensation. You nodded, eyelids partially obscuring your gaze as you met Eddie’s.
His hand slipped beneath the underwire band of your bra, his knuckles pressing against the squishy cup of it as he finally felt your bare breast. Your eyelids fluttered as you softly moaned his name beneath him. Your sweater was bunched up on Eddie’s forearm, the backs of your thighs pressing against the top of his as he bent to lave his tongue over your throat.
“Jesus, Eddie,” you sighed, tilting your head to expose more of your throat to him. Each swipe of his thumb over your nipple sent a jolt of sensation to your clit. You could feel yourself get more turned on with every touch, your hands winding around his exposed biceps to keep him close.
He sat back on his heels, pulling your sweater over your head to expose your plain, black bra. A dopey smile came over his face as his gaze focused on your breasts like a kid opening presents on Christmas morning. You took initiative, your arms twisting behind you to unlatch your bra at your spine and shed it onto the living room floor.
“When is your uncle supposed to get back?” you asked, that bit of information springing forward in your mind as something that could be important. Eddie was too distracted, his ringed hands finding your breasts and squeezing the soft flesh beneath the stretch of his fingers. “Eddie,” you said, your voice somewhere between scolding him and moaning.
“Not ‘till morning, princess. We’re okay,” he mumbled, his tone airy as he licked his lower lip. You gasped as he teased both of your nipples, your spine arching toward the sensation as he massaged your chest. Your hips jolted, the seam of your jeans pressing against your clit and practically punching the air from your lungs.
A smirk found its way to Eddie’s face, his brown eyes darkening as he left one of your breasts unattended to unbutton your jeans with swift fingers. He let out a soft groan when he saw your baby pink underwear as he tugged the zipper down, his fingers gently pulling at the little white bow along the waistband. He bit his lower lip, his brows pinching together as he looked at you beneath him.
“This okay, princess?” he finally asked, his voice deep and raspy as he spoke.
“Yeah, more than okay.” You desperately wanted him to continue, already so soaked that you could feel the gusset of your panties sticking.
Eddie dipped his fingers below the waistband of your panties, leaning forward so he didn’t have to twist his arm that much. It still looked like he was halfway dislocating his shoulder as he did it, but he didn’t seem to mind. His eyelids fluttered over his soft, chocolate-brown irises as the pads of his fingers finally dipped into the wet heat of your soaked cunt.
“You always this wet?” he asked, his voice ragged as his forearm pressed against the arm of the couch to keep himself aloft. His fingers sought out your clit immediately, rubbing slow circles around it that made you see stars.
You blushed, embarrassment curling around your ribs. “No, not really,” you said, sheepish at how flustered Eddie had gotten you. He just smirked, watching your face as he experimented with pressures and speeds. Finally, he must have gotten a reaction he liked, one of your wines eliciting a wicked smile from him as he repeated the motion.
“C’mon, let’s get these off,” Eddie said, pulling away from you. You whined at the sudden lack of contact, your brows furrowing in frustration as he grabbed the waistband of your jeans and panties and started to pull both off of you. You lifted your hips and then curled your legs toward your stomach so he could discard your clothes carelessly.
You moaned loudly as his fingers messily traced up the seam of your cunt, finally able to touch you properly as your legs settled on either side of him. You could feel him smearing the sticky, clear wetness that has practically been pouring out of you, his thumb pressing against your clit with agonizingly soft pressure.
Eddie was good with his hands, unsurprising for someone who was well-practiced in guitar. You’d seen him play once in the guitar class you both had signed up for as an elective, watched the way his fingers expertly moved over the strings while you fumbled pathetically.
You weren’t really aware of Eddie slipping his heavy rings off, putting them on the coffee table with soft thumps. Even knowing how good he is with his hands, nothing prepared you for the way your mind turned upside down when he slid his middle and ring fingers inside of you.
“Oh,” you exhaled, his thumb still steadily rubbing over the swollen bump of your clit. You were so wound up, arousal forming a knot in the pit of your stomach. Your back curved to desperately grind your hips against his hand, any embarrassment forgotten as your eyes practically roll back in your head. Eddie’s fingers pressed into the squishy spot on the front wall of your pussy, his gaze focused on the way his fingers plunged inside of you.
“Doing great, princess,” he hummed as you grabbed at him to ground yourself. Your fingers twisted into the strap of his black tank top, stretching the fabric in your pleasure-filled haze. It was impossible to keep still, your hips humping against the movement of his hand as you tossed your head back against the cushioned armrest of the couch.
“Eddie…” you panted, starting to feel that familiar bliss of a climax coming. He’d gotten you there embarrassingly fast, your legs trembling around him as your chest heaves with each breath. He smiled, shushing you gently as his free hand caressed your cheek on its way to clasp around the back of your neck. The squelching noises filling the living room were ungodly, almost drowning out the sounds of the television altogether.
Eddie let out a soft chuckle. “It’s okay, just let it happen,” he said, his tone soft despite the undeniable rasp in his voice. It was like permission was all you needed to make the coil in your stomach snap with the harshness of a rubber band stretched too tight. You let out a soft sob as your cunt pulsed around his fingers, sucking at them greedily. You’d never cum so hard before in your life, your ears ringing as you squeezed your eyes shut. You were vaguely aware of the way you were chanting Eddie’s name like a broken record, your nails digging into his arm with no mercy.
Eddie slowed his fingers down, still working you through your orgasm until you were limp against the couch. You came back to reality with a sob, the sound thick and wet as overwhelmed tears form at the edges of your eyes. You felt weak as his fingers finally slow to a stop, your focus narrowing to just Eddie.
“That was so pretty,” he murmured, pulling his fingers from inside you. They were shiny, strings of your cum shining in the low light as he spread them. Eddie sucked them into his mouth with a grin, his eyes rolling back before he curled himself back over you to pull you into a needy kiss.
You could taste yourself on his tongue, the tang of your own pussy distinct as Eddie smeared his wet fingers on your ribcage. His hard cock pressed against the back of your thigh, warm and pulsing through his pajama pants and boxers as he rutted it against your soft flesh.
“Wanna fuck you, princess,” Eddie said between kisses, almost sounding drunk with the way his voice dropped into a low rumble. He kissed the corner of your mouth before his lips fluttered up your soft jawline. He paused to suckle behind your ear, his plush lips making you whine pathetically again.
You realized you wanted to have sex with him. The way he said it made you clench around nothing, desperation rising in you again. “Eddie, I’m a virgin,” you mumbled, embarrassed and worried about his response.
He pulled back to look you in the eyes, seriousness and lust mixing in his expression as he looked down at you. His hips slowed, still pressing his erection against your thigh and slowly rocking. He bit his lip, one hand smoothing some hair off your face. “What do you want to do? Don’t want you to feel like you gotta do anything.”
The pressure lifted from your chest, the worry dissipating as quickly as it had arrived. “I want to,” you said, lifting your head to kiss him quickly. For some reason you felt comfortable with Eddie, that panic that you have had before with previous guys nonexistent.
His eyes widened as though he didn’t expect that response, a grin stretching across his face and making his eyes wrinkle at the corners. “Okay,” he breathed, unable to keep the excitement out of his tone. He lifted himself off of you in a stiff motion, palming at the front of his pants as he looked down at you. “You just stay here, I’ll be right back.”
He disappeared down the hall to his room, shutting the door behind him to hide it from your view. When he came back he had a silver foil in his hand, the other one pulling off his tank top and dropping it to the floor.
“Seems like you’re hiding something in your room,” you said, a soft joke to ease the tension as Eddie settled himself between your legs again. He was ripping the condom wrapper open when he cracked a smile, his gaze flicking back up to yours.
“I didn’t know such a beautiful girl would be over or I would’ve cleaned my room,” he said in explanation. “You’re sure about this?” he asked, discarding the wrapper on the table.
“Yeah, I am,” you said, biting your lower lip as you nodded.
Eddie accepted your confirmation, pushing his pants and boxers down just enough to free himself. You propped yourself up on your elbows as you looked at his cock, not sure if it was big or average sized–but there was no way it could be considered small. The tip was red and engorged as his dick curved up and slightly to the left from a thatch of curly brown hair. There were prominent veins on the underside of it, the ridges visible in the skin as he took himself in his fist to roll the condom on.
“Lay down,” he said as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit a few times, making you gasp. Even through the condom it was hot to the touch. Eddie’s eyes were dark as he looked at you, still rubbing his cock along your cunt. “If you want to stop, you just tell me, princess. Okay?”
You exhaled as the head of his cock caught at your entrance, making your pussy clench needily. “Uh huh, I’ll tell you, Eddie,” you agreed frantically.
The press of the crown of his cock into your dripping cunt coaxed a gasp out of you. It was a burning stretch despite how slow he was going, your hips wiggling to find a comfortable position. It didn’t hurt, but it was different, the sensation of fullness making you let out little huffs of air as he pushed into you. He kissed any part of you his mouth could reach, peppering his lips over your face and neck as he slotted himself inside you.
Eddie caged you to the couch, his hand stroking your hair and your neck and your waist. He just kept going and going, your back arching and your pussy fluttering around him as you adjusted to the new sensation. Your huffs turned into whines, your head spinning as you started to feel overwhelmed.
“Shh,” Eddie hummed into your ear, an attempt to soothe you. “Relax, you’re doing so good for me, princess. Deep breath.”
The breath you took in at his instruction was rough and ragged, rattling in your lungs. He snorted a soft chuckle in response.
He drove the rest of his cock into you in one smooth motion, punching all the air from your body with a soft yelp. Your hands found his shoulders, holding onto him has you hooked your legs around his waist. You felt full and vulnerable beneath him, your walls stretched tight around him as the two of you breathed together for a moment.
Eddie decided you were adjusted enough, pulling out and thrusting back in. Your hips lurched with nowhere to go, a quiet ah pulling itself from your throat.
He leaned forward to press his lips to yours as he slid rhythmically in and out of you, making you mewl pathetically against his mouth. Eddie was relentless, fucking you smoothly as he mashed his lips against yours. You could hardly think straight, clinging to him as he pressed you into the cushions of the couch.
The wet, squelching noises of your pussy were loud, your tight walls sucking at Eddie’s cock greedily each time he pulled back from you. His fingers dug into the fat of your thighs, keeping you where he wanted you as you took every inch of him inside of you. His teeth nipped softly at your jaw, making your head spin as you felt yourself slipping closer and closer to brainlessness.
“You’ve got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, you know that, princess?” Eddie groaned into your ear, his pace picking up. “She’s so fucking hot and tight around me, poor thing just needed my cock so bad.”
His voice makes you moan, the way he’s talking to you makes delight bubble in your chest. You got lost in the feeling of the head of his cock rubbing against the spongy spot on the inside of your pussy. Your brow was furrowed, lips pouting as it started to feel like you’d snap again.
Eddie lifted himself off of you, his gaze fixed on where his cock kept sinking into you over and over again. His hand smoothed over the hinge where your thigh met your hip, his thumb stretching out to swipe over your swollen clit. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment as you clenched around him like a vise, a punched-out groan rumbling from his chest as his free hand dug into your waist to keep leverage.
You were trembling beneath him, your skin started to feel like it was stretched too tight over your body. “Eddie, I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, his pace grinding a second orgasm out of you like it was his job.
You were almost delirious from being stuffed full of his cock, your legs trembling around him as your back arched off the cushions of the couch. Eddie kept his pace, his own resolve starting to crumble as his thrusts got increasingly sloppy. His hands both found your waist, his thrusts becoming quick and shallow as his long, curly hair fell in his face. His eyes fluttered shut as soft grunts and whimpers pulled from his throat.
Watching Eddie cum made your heart twist, the way he stopped thrusting to grind into you as he crumpled down to press his chest to yours is almost tender. Your legs wrapped around his waist, everywhere that your skin was pressed together was sticky with sweat. Eddie spilled into the condom, part of you wishing he hadn’t worn it at all so you could get the full sensation. The sound he made was breathless and sultry, his mouth open and head tucking into the curve of your neck as he kept his hips tightly pressed to yours.
Your eyes slipped closed, your hands curling into the damp curls at the nape of his neck as you both caught your breath. You pressed kisses to the shell of Eddie’s ear, a bit delighted that the night had turned out this way. The muscles of your thighs were starting to burn from being bent in an unfamiliar angle, but you weren’t about to protest.
After a few moments Eddie pulled out of you with a hiss, pressing a wet kiss to your forehead. There was a look of affection in his eyes as he regarded you with a goofy smile that matched your own. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you looked up at him.
“I think you should start coming over more often.”
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x virgin!reader#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x afab!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson imagine#Eddie Munson x reader smut#Eddie Munson x Harrington!reader#eddie munson x female reader
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Just A Pinch |Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: you get your nipples pierced and surprise Eddie. Requested by @jordynyingling0219 🤗.
Cw: smut 18+ minors go away. Nipple play (obviously), eddie worships your tits, Boob job, dirty talk, pet names, fingering.
Not having Eddie touching yours boobs for about a month was one of the hardest things you had to avoid when you came up with your little plan to surprise him with new nipple piercings. He was always at you, holding your boobs even if it wasn’t for anything sexual. He just found them conforming.
So when you jerked your body away the first time he reached for you he thought you were mad at him. He wracked his brain for anything that he could have done to piss you off, however he came up empty… He bought you apology flowers just to be safe. Your heart yearned for him, you hated that he thought he had done something wrong. You promised you weren’t mad of him but you still didn’t let him touch your soar sensitive nipples regardless. You were sticking with the plan because you knew the reaction would be so worth it.
The second week you had sex but refused to let him see or touch them again. You blamed PMS and said they were too sensitive to be played with this week. Eddie let it go in the moment because he was so deep in your pussy to care. In the back of his mind he was still unsure what your deal was.
The third week you had actually gotten your period so he knew to back off. He knew your breast were so sensitive this time of month so he didn’t even think about it.
The fourth week you were gnawing at the bit to show him. You were so close to the finish line. You had been so regimented with your daily cleaning, and the swelling and soreness had finally subsided, that on the Friday you decided it had been enough time to let Eddie have his way with your tits.
“Baby! I need your help!” You fake cried as you lay completely naked on the bed.
You hear the frantic footsteps of your boyfriend come down the hall to your shared bedroom and you can’t help but giggle quietly with excitement.
“What-woah” Eddie froze in his tracks briefly before he took action. There you were laid out for him on a silver platter for the taking. “What’s gotten into you little minx?” He smirked before crawling his way up the bed to you with a look in his eye that you knew you were in for it tonight.
You hadn’t been fully naked in front of Eddie for a month. And god he missed being with you, especially your boobs. He needed that skin to skin connection and he missed using them as a pillow and and something to put in his mouth.
He was half way up your body when he stopped in his tracks. The low mood lighting you had set caught something shiny and reflective on your chest. As Eddie’s eyes fully scanned you you couldn’t help but bite your lip. You needed to just observe his reaction, you waiting long enough.
“What the fuck? Did you-!?-How did-?! When?!” Eddie was shocked to see your nipples adorned with two ruby red jewels on each side of your hard nipples.
“Do you like it?” You couldn’t tell if he did or not.
“Is this why you’ve been hiding from me?” He avoided the question.
You slowly nodded your head yes and Eddie’s eyes finally snapped away from your boobs to your face.
“God you’re perfect, what did I do to deserve you?” He leaned in to kiss you, hard and you let out a moan of pleasure.
“So you like it?” You asked one more time.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuu-uuu-uuu-uck” he drew out “I love them, I didn’t think they could get any prettier.” He leaned down to examine more. He took each breast in his hands to get a closer look.
“Do they hurt?” He asked as he gently lifted them.
“Not anymore” you sighed. They are more sensitive if anything.
“Oh baby we are about to have so much fun” Eddie was mischievous.
Eddies tongue tentatively flicked your already hard nipple and a soft moan slipped from your lips. That only encouraged Eddie. As he suckled your nipple he could taste the cool metal bar.
The way Eddie was worshiping your body only shot a a wave of pleasure through to your core. He was making you feel so good you wanted to return the favour.
“Babyyyyy” you moaned.
“What! Oh my god! Did I hurt you sweetheart?” He jerked back up.
“No” you cooed “I wanna do something for you” You smirked.
“Baby I think you’ve given me enough.” He cupped your breast again, rubbing each nipple with his thumbs, playing.
“Please” you pout “you’ll really like it.” You sat up and crawled closer to him.
You slipped your hand up Eddie’s shirt and pulled it up over his head. You then stripped him of his pants and boxers letting his throbbing cock pop out.
“What did you have in mind honey?” Eddie asked.
“Sit on the edge of the bed for me.” You instructed as you got off the bed and knelt down infront of him. You then reached into the night stand drawer and got out you lube. Eddie gave you a confused look but you told him to trust you so he did.
You squeezed the slippery liquid into your hand to warm it up before sliding it up and down the soft velvety skin of his long thick cock.
Eddie let out a grunt when your hands made contact with his shaft. He observed you, still confused, as you sat up and adjusted to sit directly between his legs. You took his cock and placed it between your breasts. Eddie’s brain just about short circuited as he watched you envelop his cock between your two breasts.
“Fuck you’re perfect.” He sat back and watched you as you worked your boobs up and down his cock. The soft warm delicate skin of your boobs, mixed with the sight of your decorated nipples was making him wanna bust right then and there, but then you dipped your head down to take the tip in your mouth and he embarrassingly came right then and there.
“Mmmmm” you hummed with a smile as you swallowed him down.
“Fuck baby you’re killing me” he huffed as he caught his breath.
“I’m glad you like them” you giggle.
“Like them?! Fuck baby I love them” Eddie growled as he helped you stand up and took your nipple back in his mouth.
You threw your head back with pleasure as Eddie massaged each breast with his hands and mouth.
“Eddie” you moan
“What is it you want baby?”
“You” you gasp as his fingers found your clit.
You cupped his head trapping his mouth on your nipples. His fingers worked your swollen clit before slipping in a finger. Your knees buckled and Eddie chuckled darkly at the effect he had on you.
“You like that? My dirty girl.” He looked up at you with his big puppy dog eyes.
“You know I do! Dont stop!” You cried as the feeling of pleasure built up up up, his fingers hitting each and every right spot until you broke.
You crumbled as you came on Eddie’s fingers.
“That’s my goodgirl” he continued to work your pussy as you rode out your high.
“I didn’t think sex could get any better you laughed.
“Oh we are just getting started darling”
#Eddie Munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie Munson smut#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x afab reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x female character#eddie munson x plus size reader#Eddie Munson#Eddie Munson fic#eddie munson fan fic
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eddie in grey sweatpants can be something so personal
aka eddie wears sweatpants and reader is in a horny trance
He knew exactly what he was doing when he pulled on those sweatpants. And maybe you shouldn’t be looking, but the sexual tension between you two is the most suffocating it's ever been. The air inside his trailer is so brittle it could snap, and if it didn’t, you would.
Eddie has been teasing you since you came around. Touching you, kissing you, whispering filthy words in your ear until you’re a moaning mess; but this is by far the cruelest of all his teasing.
He’s leaning against the kitchen island — shirtless with a pair of grey sweatpants sitting dangerously low on his hips. His arms are crossed as a trail of dark hair disappears below the waistband. You scan him without shame, much like he has done to you in the past, until your eyes land on the strained grey cotton covering his lower half.
Fuck, you know he's big, but does he really take up that much space?
With fluorescent lights beaming down on him, a light shadow paints a delicious outline of Eddie's rigid and thick cock straining against the material, nestled in his left pant leg, you can already imagine how fucking good it feels to drag your cunt against him.
No one can claim that he doesn't fill out the pants.
His low voice calling out your name is what finally breaks your trance. Mouth watering your eyes snap back up to him. He leans back against the wall, flexing his hips so his cock presses even harder against the fabric.
“See something you like?”
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x gn!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x afab!reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson blurb#bbyhellfire
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(nsfw thought)
Want him to hold me on his lap, his strong arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back against his firm chest. His other hand wrapped lightly around my throat, not enough to really do anything, but enough to make me whine and squirm against him. He’s snickering behind me, holding onto me tighter and not letting me get the pleasure that I’m seeking for so desperately. “Nu-uh honey, if you want to cum tonight you have to be good for me, you’re going to sit here and listen to me describe all the dirty things I’ve been thinking about you. I won’t fuck you until you’ve absolutely soaked your clothes.” My eyes roll into the back of my head at his words, I can feel his heart beating against the back of my chest. The bulge in his pants rutting up against my ass, letting me know he wants me just as bad as I want him.
#eddie munson smut#steve harrington smut#joel miller smut#rafe cameron smut#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie x afab smut#simon ghost x reader#simon riley smut#ghost smut#anakin smut
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Eddie’s leaky, pink-tipped cock is ramming in and out of you at a relentless pace. The filthy squelch of his pre-cum and your wetness filling the heated room.
“F-Fuck, doll. So fucking t-tight for me, huh?” His eyes roll back into his head.
He’s leaning down by your ear, whispering the dirtiest things he can think of to get you to clench around him. He’s desperately rubbing small, tight circles on your clit.
He expertly angles himself so that he manages to get impossibly deeper and starts hitting your spongey spot over and over again. You moan loudly as he grunts and whimpers in your ear, his tongue poking the side of his mouth.
That’s enough to finally tip you off the edge, snapping the ever-growing knot in your stomach. You squirted all over him, your juices dribbling down your ass.
“Holy shit. Did I - fuck - did I just make you?- ah.”
The intensity of your orgasm lasts ages as Eddie rides out your high. He pumps himself into you faster, getting off to the fact that he made your pussy drool, as he chases his own release longingly.
“S-Shit - Just s-so you know I’m, like, super close. Where - God - Where do you want me t-“
“Inside. Cum inside me.”
“Jesus Christ, Y/N.”
Just the thought makes hot, white strings of cum shoot out and paint your walls. He groans, bottoming out and switching his thrusts from fast and sloppy to slow and deep.
“You’re driving me crazy.” He wipes the sweat from his forehead and grins at your fucked-out body beneath him.
#eddie munson x y/n#eddie x reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson x afab reader#eddie munson x fem!reader
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NERDY GIRL (book lover, does well in school, loves to study) DATING EDDIE MUNSON. BOTH LOSING THEIR VIRGINITIES TO EACH OTHER. THANKS, BETH, ILY :33
not so shy now, are we?
eddie munson x afab!fem!reader.
summary: after borrowing a copy of 'jaws' from hawkins library, you are shocked to find the explicit material written across the pages. however, your body reacts in a different way than you intended, which doesn't go unnoticed by eddie...
warnings: HEAVY SMUT!! fem!reader. afab!reader. queer!reader. switch!eddie & switch!reader (they are both dom and sub at different times.) unprotected p in v (r is on birth control.) fingering. A LOT OF DIRTY TALK. mentions of dildos, straps & silicone bodies. mentions of porn. pet names (sweetheart, my love, honey, baby.) swearing. established relationship. one mention of religion/god. some fluff & comfort at the end [2.9k].
a/n: thank you for requesting, my love! i kind of went off on this (i was feeling kinky today :')) so i hope you don't mind that!! we stan kinky virgins in this house and they deserve some love. so, low and behold, kinky eddie and reader ♡
You and Eddie were sat top-to-tail on his bed, lying beside each other as you read away.
Your knees were tucked up to your chest, your borrowed copy of Jaws from Hawkins Library laying in your lap.
Eddie, on the other hand, was sprawled out like a cat, his copy of Fellowship of the Ring held high above his head, the boy squinting to read the words.
You had urged him to get his eyes tested, even offered to pay for the appointment due to the Munson’s financial insecurity, but he wholeheartedly refused, claiming it would “ruin his look.”
You tried your best to convince him it would just make him look sexier, but he brushed you off with a “Thanks, sweetheart” and carried on with his far-sightedness.
You had seen Jaws when it had first come out in theatres over ten years ago, your seven-year-old mind blown away by its visuals and story.
So, when you picked up the book, you expected the story to be pretty much the same, more focused on the descriptive writing than any major plot differences.
But, as you came to a certain scene, your mind started to race.
“Hooper's teeth were clenched, and he ground them the way people do during sleep. From his voice there came a gurgling whine, whose tone rose higher and higher with each frenzied thrust.”
You and Eddie hadn’t gone any further than humping. It never ended in anything, just something to satisfy yourselves whilst you made out.
You quickly looked over at your boyfriend, his attention deeply focused in on his favourite book.
Raising the book from your lap, you hid your face behind it, softly biting your lip as your eyes scanned the following two sentences.
“Even after his obvious, violent climax, Hooper's countenance had not changed. His teeth were still clenched, his eyes still fixed on the wall, and he continued to pump madly.”
However, despite your best efforts to cover your face, Eddie had already felt the bedsheet moving against his legs. Looking away from his own novel, he takes note of the way your thighs squeezed together, the content of the pages in your respective hand obviously causing a stir in a certain region of your body.
A sudden smirk appears on his face as he thinks of an idea, beginning with a simple gesture to capture your attention. He takes his sock-covered foot and rubs it against your bare one.
The feeling of the fabric against your skin makes you jolt, almost snapping the book shut as you peer over the top of it to see your boyfriend’s face.
“How’s the book, sweetheart?”
You gulped, forcing a smile on your face and nodding furiously as you replied, “Yeah! Yeah… Um, really good! It’s, um… really good, yeah…”
You notice the way he folds the corner of his page, placing the book on his nightstand and crawling up the bed to sit beside you. Out of instinct, you hold the book close to your chest, your mind unable to close it fully due to the urge to continue reading the steamy scene.
He lets out an exaggerated yawn and casually drapes his arm behind your back. “I’m bored of my own book. Read some of yours to me. I’m interested.”
Bored of Fellowship? That couldn’t be right. He was up to something here.
“Um… I’d rather not!” you squeak out, trying to conceal the dirty words on the page in front of you, “I just… don’t feel like reading aloud today.”
He nods understandably, however, that same glint remained lurking in his orbs. “I understand, baby.”
However, so distracted by the beauty of your man, he delicately removes the book from your hands. The action was so incredibly light, Eddie placing it in his right hand whilst his left rested on top of your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Okay, let’s see here… What beautiful words grace this adaptation of a truly wonderful film?”
You throat closes up as you are reminded of what you just read a mere few minutes ago. It was currently summer in Indiana, so the freeness of your skirt allowed you to feel how wet you already were beneath your panties.
“Hooper's teeth were clenched, and he ground them the way people do during sleep. From his voice there came a gurgling whine, whose tone rose higher and higher with each frenzied thrust,” Eddie spoke, his tone becoming deeper and more sultry, his hand slowly travelling up your inner thigh.
The words sounded sexy enough coming from your own inner voice, but with Eddie’s? You didn’t know how long you were able to contain yourself.
“Even after his obvious, violent climax, Hooper's countenance had not changed. His teeth were still clenched, his eyes still fixed on the wall, and he continued to pump madly,” he continued, his hand now reaching over your panties, feeling the wetness leaking through.
He chuckles seductively, “Didn’t know Jaws was this explicit sweetheart, but it seems like you were enjoying it regardless.”
God, for a virgin, he already knew how to push your buttons, somehow finding your clit through the fabric and rubbing delicate circles around it.
“Eddie… please,” you whine out, mouth slightly parted as you look at him with pleading eyes. He switches hands, placing the book upside down beside his own and using his right to continue focusing on your bud.
He cups your cheek with his left hand, turning you on your side as he kisses you softly, gentle moans releasing from your lips as he ever so slowly pleasures you.
You can feel him leave your clit, moving his hand upward before stopping at the band of your panties.
“This okay, baby?” he mutters in between kisses, to which you break away to softly reply, “Very okay.”
Your lips connect once more, your hand cupping his cheek as he delves beneath the restriction of your underwear. Inside his own mind, Eddie was floating. He couldn’t believe this was finally happening, and that oddly, he was exemplifying so much confidence.
He relished in the adoration of how wet you were. He doubted that it was merely the underwear that underestimated the amount, you had gotten wetter since he began pleasuring you. You were wet for him.
“Holy shit, baby,” he groans, looking down to see where his hand was buried beneath the fabric of your simple, black panties. His fingers were soaked, travelling lower until they reached your tiny, little hole.
Your face was buried into his neck, nodding frantically as you lifted your leg up higher, giving him access. He felt your head move against the side of his face, his cheek leant against it as he slowly sank one finger inside of you.
The stretch felt so fucking good. The coolness of his ring could be felt against the entrance of your pussy, the tip of his finger softly rubbing against the spongy spot at the back.
He could feel your hot breath against his neck, small whimpers escaping your lips as you simply whispered “More, please. Need more…”
He knew exactly what you meant, but didn’t want to break you. You were tiny, and he would punish himself forever if you even felt an ounce of pain caused by him.
“Don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart,” he whispers into your ear, his breath coming out in pants.
“You won’t, my love. Please… Just… I need you so bad.”
And how could he deny that begging? He was one step away from floating to heaven. And if he was being honest, he would happily die this way if it meant you moaning away in his ear.
So, without hesitation, he pulled his finger out, and entered again with two, pushing deep into your pussy.
The stretch was beautifully delicious, the burn being extremely pleasurable as he attacked that spongy spot once again.
He was being delicate, you could recognise that easily. But, that wasn’t something you wanted. What your boyfriend didn’t know is that you were kinky as hell. And the rougher he did it, the more satisfied you would be.
But, Eddie wasn’t all that innocent either. His trips to Family Video were strategically planned so that Robin was on shift, knowing that it was a lot easier (but not completely devoid of awkwardness) if he got his hardcore porn whilst she was working the front counter, rather than someone like Steve Harrington.
“Harder. Please, Eddie, please!” you sobbed into his shoulder. With how full you were, it was almost painful with his slow pace. All you wanted was for him to drive into you with force.
With your cries of frustration, the inner dominance of him struck out, him gritting his teeth and biting on your earlobe, “Yeah, you want it fuckin’ rough, sweetheart?”
“Want nothing more, baby. Please give it to me.”
And with that, he began pumping his fingers in and out of you at lightning speed. With each thrust, the palm of his hand smacked perfectly against your clit, increasing the amount of pleasure you felt.
You were able to give him hickeys on his shoulder purely by biting down whenever he hit particularly hard. Each pull of his skin lended itself with a harsh hiss from between his teeth.
“Is this what you imagined when you were reading that book, baby, huh? Thought about my fingers pumping into you like that?”
Oh god, he was a dirty talker too. You nodded frantically, almost screaming when he stopped pumping, pushing his fingers as deep as they would go and shaking them up and down. The sloshing sounds coming from your pussy made you both moan in unison.
“Holy shit,” he whispers, before continuing to blabber, “Course you did. You think about me often, don’t you, sweetheart? Think about me when you’re alone at night, filling yourself with those sweet toys you have underneath your bed.”
You honestly didn’t even know he knew about them. But, it was hot nonetheless. Knowing that he knew about the nine-inch dildo sent shivers down your spine. God, what if he even saw the strap? The bottom half of a silicone body that you practiced fucking into?
“Always think about you, Eddie. Wanna be fucked by you so bad.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, baby,” he moans into your ear, “Think about you too, you know. Never cum so much until I thought about you bouncing on my cock.”
You let out a harsh whine as you felt yourself teetering close to the edge, but Eddie says it before you, “I know you’re about to cum, baby. You gonna cum for me?”
“Gonna cum so hard for you, Eds.”
He can feel you getting tighter and tighter, struggling to move his fingers inside of you, “Then show me, baby. Let go for me.”
And with that cooing, you let out a silent scream, followed by a loud moan as your legs shook violently, tightening around Eddie’s arm, locking him in place as he slowly pumped his fingers, coaxing your orgasm out of you.
“So good for me, baby. So fucking good.”
As you came down from your high, you placed delicate kisses over the marks you had made on his shoulder, Eddie slowly pulling his fingers from you.
But, you gently lifted his hand to your mouth, taking both digits and sucking them clean, exaggeratedly moaning over them and rolling your eyes back on purpose. You felt the strain of his jeans against your thigh ages ago, you were deliberately trying to wind him up.
“Fuckin’ hell, honey. Why didn’t we do that sooner?”
You giggle, biting your lip as you breathe out, “Didn’t know you were as kinky as me.”
“That day I didn’t come into school because I was ‘sick’ was because I came four times after seeing your sex toys the night before. I couldn’t walk all day.”
“Oh my God,” you breathlessly laugh into his shoulder. “Well…” you begin to place soft kisses on his jaw, “I could make that fantasy of yours become a reality if you’d like.”
Eddie felt his dick kick against his jeans. Looks like his body was giving him an answer before he got his head straight.
“Please, baby” he practically whines, “But, don’t expect it to be as sexy as it was a second ago. I doubt I’m going to last longer than a couple minutes.”
“Don’t care,” you say, beginning to un-do his belt buckle, pushing him down onto the mattress softly, “Just need to feel you fill me up.”
Eddie moaned at your dirty words, but had to make sure of something before you started. “Birth control, right?”
“Yeah. On the pill,” you reply, capturing his lips in your own.
Thank God. He could not be dealing with a mini Munson just yet.
You slowly remove his jeans and boxers, tossing them across the room as his cock smacks against his stomach. He was delicious. Had to be around six inches long, girth about the same, curved slightly to the right. He was going to fit amazingly inside of you, you just knew it.
You positioned yourself on top of him, grabbing the base of his cock and rubbing him against your wetness, remembering that practicality was still needed, even if you just wanted to fuck yourself stupid.
You look up at him, checking he was okay, “Ready?”
He nodded, “Always for you, baby.”
And so you began, sinking down onto his beautiful cock, Eddie letting out a choked moan beneath you. If a God truly did exist, you would definitely be thanking him for creating this gorgeous specimen falling apart in front of you.
You leant down, whispering and panting in his ear, “Tell me when to move, baby.”
Eddie grabbed onto your waist, preparing himself for what’s to come, “Move, sweetheart. Jesus Christ.”
And so you did, beginning to slowly lift yourself up, before slamming back down onto his cock. Both of you let out deep groans in sync, you immediately picking your pace up, struggling to contain yourself.
The wet sounds of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room, combined with your whines and Eddie’s deep moans. You pressed down on his chest, using it as leverage to increase your deepness.
Not realising your eyes had been closed the entire time, you slowly opened them, seeing Eddie’s mouth in the perfect ‘O’ and his bangs sticking to his forehead, his eyes closed in delight.
“Open your eyes for me, baby. Need to see your pretty eyes.”
He opens his eyes, almost instantly looking down to where your bodies connected.
“Better than you imagined, huh?” you taunted, your dominance seeping out, “Your cock wasn’t ready for how good this would be, was it baby?”
He shakes his head, completely submitting to you, “Never, baby. Feels so fucking good. Feels like I’m fucking dreaming.”
You try to thrust as hard as you can, assuring him that he wasn’t dreaming at all. That this was all very much real. That his first time was this rough. That his girlfriend was kinky as shit.
Suddenly, you feel his cock begin to twitch inside of you. You mockingly laugh at him, “Your poor baby says otherwise, honey. Think he wants to cum. Am I right in thinking that? He wants to fill me up?”
God, something about you referring to his cock in the third person was about to send him spiralling over the edge. He could barely form words, too pussy-drunk to be able to speak. “Y-Yeah. Gonna cum.”
“I can tell, baby,” you say, leaning forward and whispering into his ear, “Cum in me, please. Really need you to fill me up.”
And with a supported groan, his warm cum splashed against your inner walls, sticking to you as he twitched and moaned.
“Good boy. Good fucking boy,” you whispered as he came down from his high, his dick becoming soft inside of you.
As you lifted yourself off of him, his cum began leaking out of you, the both of you marvelling at the sight.
“Holy shit,” Eddie sighs out happily, watching it drip into a pile just above his cock, gently caressing your hip.
“We just did that,” you giggle, grinning happily as you collapse onto Eddie’s chest, kissing him silly, smiling against his lips.
“That was… something else.”
“Better than you expected?” you ask, a sudden shyness washing over you, almost a hint of self-consciousness, afraid you took things too far.
“Never dreamed it could be that good in a million years,” he sighs. “Sorry I didn’t last long.”
She grabs his wrist, looking at the object encompassing his wrist, “Seven minutes isn’t bad at all for a first timer!”
Eddie began chuckling, “You looked at my watch before we started?”
You hide into his shoulder, “Wanted to see how well you would do.”
He places a soft kiss on your forehead and laughs, “You nerd. I love you so much.”
You smile softly, a soft blush spreading across your cheeks, “I love you too, baby.”
And with the both of you tired out from your day’s events, you fall asleep peacefully wrapped in each other’s arms, knowing that if there’s one place you’d both like to be for the rest of your lives, it would be here.
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yellow | steve harrington x reader
summary you're Dustin's older sister, you used to go out with Steve, but the distance broke you off, you're back in Hopkins, for good, and destiny makes you bump into eachother. (3.9k)
warnings fem!reader, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn exes! to lovers, idiots in love!!!, mentions of alcohol use, english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!
-
“Since when do you own this?” Dustin asked as he pulled a yellow crewneck out of one of the boxes.
“Oh, uh…” You hadn’t seen it in a while. It fell on your hands as Dustin gave it to you, the softness of the fabric still holds a reminder of his cologne. “It’s not mine, it’s Steve’s.”
He grew quiet for a second, looking at you intensely. They were still friends, Steve had seen him grow up, and was close to him, almost like a brother, and when you broke things off, you begged him to not leave him. He kept his promise, he always did.
“Sorry.” He muttered, an apologetic look stayed on his face even when he stopped looking at you, you shook your head. He didn’t need to apologise, not to you anyway.
“How is he?” The curiosity always took the best of you, and you had left quite some time ago, not really thinking about him. Running away so you wouldn’t have to think about a broken heart.
“I haven’t told him that you came back home.” Your little brother blurted out, with a grin on his face, letting you know he is really glad that you’re actually back, his way of telling you he’d missed you. “He’s doing good. He’s working, and he went back to studying… He’s happy.” He smiled back at you, seeing how your face was no longer expressing grief or melancholy, but a pleasant smile.
You were unsure of a lot of things, but one thing that you were certain of, he deserves all of the happiness in the world.
“That’s nice to know.” Your attention went back to the sweater. The coldness of the night he left it to you seemed to reach your fingertips, and the warmth of the memory reached your gut, butterflies that you thought dead flew for a second. “You should give it back to him.” You added, lifting your head up to look at him.
“You sure?” Even if he was the youngest, he always treated you in such a delicate manner, it made you softer, you had missed him.
“Yeah, it’s been long enough.” You chuckled as you said it, and he nodded along. You hadn’t been home in years, hadn’t seen him in two of those.
“I’m meeting him in a bit, I can give it to him then.” You nod, and he mouths a soft okey before leaving the room.
You had a moment, for the first time since you had arrived back home, where you were alone. No music, no noise, no one else with you.
You left so you could go to college, that was your excuse. Then he broke up with you, the distance only exposed other problems, in both of you. When you did break up, he told you that he still loved you, but it wasn’t enough.
The echo of his words still with you, it isn’t enough, am i not enough?
The sweetness of his voice shocked with his broken tone, tears fell from his eyes when he said goodbye. That was the last weekend you came down, and you had been avoiding coming back ever since.
The walls of your room were empty, the new coat of paint now dry, half full boxes of clothes and shoes and memorabilia were scattered around the floor, the bed half done, the cover still having to be put. It seemed like a new beginning, a new chance for yourself.
Not a lot of people knew you were back. Dustin knew, of course. It had been funny seeing him finally drive, his hands still a bit insecure behind the wheel, but he looked so happy being able to pick his sister from the airport, it had made you beam with happiness when you saw him.
And you had called Eddie as soon as you woke up today. He was ecstatic, begging you to come to a party tonight, telling you that he’d come pick you up as soon as his shift at the garage was done. You knew he’d missed you, even if he’d come often to the city, and vent over everything he had going on. Avoiding to bring him up, even if you did.
So you laid down on your floor, staring at the same ceiling you did as you grew up in that same house.
Before you were aware of what you were doing, or why, a pen rested on your hand, scribbling down on a piece of paper.
Hey, I’m sorry it took this long to give it back, guess I wasn’t ready to let you go. Maybe I’ll never be. I hope you’re happy, and that you have everything you deserve. I’m also sorry if it stinks of me, it has been with me for a while now. Bye.
PS. Don’t be a stranger. I’m here if you need me.
You signed it, and folded it one too many times before dropping it inside the little bag that had his sweater in it, the green clashing with the yellow fabric.
Dustin grabbed it before he left, you smiled when you heard that his car sounded the same.
-
Loud music, sweaty people and colorful lights.
Your drink was empty, it had been for a while.
Eddie smiled while he danced and took a sip of his drink, happy that you’re finally back, his head swinging back and forth. His attention was split, between you and an unknown blonde girl that was on the bar. You smiled when you caught her staring.
“You’ve got a fan Edds.” You chuckled as you teased him. Raising your voice so he could hear you.
“Who?”
“The blonde”
“I don’t think that’ll work.” He laughed, his shyness coming in as it always did when the attention was on him.
“I think it will if you actually go talk to her… buy her a drink?” You shake your head in her direction, he knows you’re actually telling him it’s okay, you can go, i’m okay.
“Sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll go to the other bar and get a drink, wait for you there.” He nodded, and you smiled as you saw him blush.
He looked back at her, he rubbed his chin in a nervous manner, before actually walking over to her. You laughed at him, smiling deeply seeing your friend acting the same he always had.
As you shook your head to yourself, stifling another laugh you left him on his own, Eddie flirted better when you weren’t around anyway. You started walking to the other bar area, the only problem, you had to find your way through the dance floor before you could reach it. You looked at the people there, all of them dancing mindlessly, some couples that had been formed, kissing or dancing together -it always made you smile, seeing people loving each other, publicly, without fear- and some doing what you were doing, looking around while downing their drink.
You were halfway through, when you saw him.
Everything else became fuzzy, the only clear image in your vision was him, wearing the yellow sweater.
Steve saw you too.
And time seemed to stop for a moment, and before it started again, there was a few seconds of slow motion. His hair flicking to the beat of the music, as his lips curved upwards at the sight of you, his eyes softening. He’d missed seeing you. He looks the same he did. You thought, though taller, broader, happier.
Before you knew it, you were face to face.
You didn’t say anything. You just looked at each other. Years of not seeing him, of avoiding him, it all didn’t matter now. His smile had the same effect on you as it always had, melting you on the spot. He broke the distance, and his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in close for a hug, your arms laying behind his neck, your fingers stroking his hair.
I miss you.
“Hi.” Steve whispered into your ear. An excited but yet calm tone could be heard in his tone.
“Hi.” You whispered back, holding on to him for a second longer before pulling back.
“Dustin told me you came back.” He raised his voice now that your head was no longer close to him. “I didn’t think I’d see you today.”
“I can tell.” You joked, as you grabbed his sweater, and you saw him chuckle in response.
“D’you wanna go out? And talk?” He pointed at where the exit was. Of course you wanted to, you almost felt like you needed to. Hear his voice for once, not just remember it.
As soon as you nodded, he started to head out, grabbing your hand as he passed in front of you. The same tingling feeling comes back to you, as if it was the first time you went on a date with him. The excited nervousness, the hopefulness, the wishing.
Cold air hitted your chest, even if it was an unseasonably warm night, you blamed the alcohol because anything else would be too confusing, and you were really trying to not get too much into your head. Not now, when he was standing against the wall and his pretty brown eyes were fixed deep into yours.
“So, how have you been?” He broke the silence, and the moment of admiration between the both of you.
“Good.” You smile shyly to yourself. “I’ve been good.”
“How did the big city treat you?”
“Chicago is… Interesting.” You chuckled, as you scratched your forehead. He knew that was your anxious tick, the way you had when you had too many thoughts swimming around inside your mind. “Uh… You’d hate deep dish pizza.”
He laughed, and the little butterfly hidden in your stomach came alive again. Warmness and goosebumps on your skin.
“I did hate it.” He recalls, looking up for a moment, the street lights shining on him. He looks like a statue, you thought, unaware of how pretty he is.
“When did you try it?”
“I was waiting for one of your classes to end, got hungry and saw a little place that was selling them, disgusting.” He shook his head in a funny manner, it made you giggle, so he did it again, wanting to hear you again.
“I ended up liking it, y’know.”
“Of course you did.” He teased, a finger poking your cheek, your face leaning into his touch.
“You get used to it.” You shrugged, your hand reaching for your purse, searching for the pack of Marlboros you knew you had.
“You’re good at that.” He grinned as his eyes became softer, he couldn’t stop looking you up and down. “You’re good at everything.”
“‘M not.” You laughed as you took a cigarette out, placing it between your lips. “I still can’t cook as good as you can.”
“You miss my cooking?” He raised his eyebrows as he asked, a cheeky grin on his lips.
“I dream about those meatballs you made.” You confessed, trying to hide your truthfulness with a giggle, that he saw through. His head tilted back for a moment, as his Adam's apple moved as he sifted a laugh.
“D’you remember when I tried to teach you how to make Napolitanian pizza from scratch?” You started to laugh at the memory, failing to light your cigarette, hiding your face on the palm of your hand.
His heart started to beat again, louder, stronger, faster. If you weren’t too busy trying to quiet yours down, you’d hear it.
“God… I ended up covered in flour.”
“Your hair was all white.” His tone softented, as did his eyes. His body seemed to be closer to yours, itching for contact. “I missed that laugh.” He finally confessed, even if the thought had been on his mind since he first heard it that night.
“You did?”
“Yeah, I missed you too.”
It happened then. The wave of nervousness, relieved in an instance.
He missed me. Hemissed me. Hemissedme.
The excitement that came with it, the realisation that what you felt in some way was reciprocated. And that the complicated feelings were felt by the both of you.
“Really?” Your voice was full of hope, your eyes shining bright at him.
“Yeah.” He was blushing now, as he smiled. A wide upside down grin that made your stomach flutter. “Did you?”
“Of course I did.”
How could you not? He has been the best person that has ever stood by you. Even if things had ended, you could only remember the good times, the fun times, the soft ones. How loved he made you feel every single day. How wanted. How cared for.
“When we broke things off…” You started to rumble, as smoke escaped through your lips, finally having ignited the cig. “It wasn’t because I didn’t love you anymore.”
“I know.” He muttered, his tone letting it known that he had a knot in his throat. “I still loved you.”
“Yeah.” You looked up at him, your hand reaching for his, a needed familiar contact came back. “I needed to be okay.”
“Are you?” You knew he was worried about your answer, in a weird way, Steve never had stopped caring about you. And neither had you.
“I am.” You nodded, the curve your lips made made him know that you couldn’t be lying. “I don’t have panic attacks every night, I’m fine being on my own. Honestly.”
“I believe you.” His hand squeezed yours, the soft touch telling you he trusted you, implicitly. You felt yourself falling back into him. “And I’m proud of you, really.”
“I’m proud of you too.” You finally took a step closer to him, your legs touching and a love sick grin on both of your faces. “Dustin told me you’re studying.”
“Yeah well… I finally decided, I guess…”
Even if your attention was on nothing else but him, when the doors opened and people started to come back to the street, smelling of alcohol, smoke and sweat. A chattering invaded the quiet street, and your focus changed.
“Shit.” Your eyes were scanning the multitude, trying to find Eddie, or the blonde girl, or any of her friends.
“What?” Steve’s eyebrow furrowed again, not really knowing why the swarm of people had made your demeanor change. Your hand letting his go, your body taking a step back.
“I came with Edds… Do you see him?”
“Oh, you’re with him?” You scoffed at the question, rolling your eyes lightheartedly, as you shook your head no. Steve nodded as the smallest grin appeared. A relief appeared in his face, and you chuckled at his question and reaction.
“He’s a friend.” You still were trying to find him, people kept passing you by, taller, shorter and drunker. “D’you see him?”
“No.”
Steve left his hand on your shoulder, asking for your attention, knowing that you were getting into your head, and you were worrying too much too soon. And he also knew that once you felt his touch, your shoulders would relax and drop. Your mind stopped spinning.
“D’you remember where he parked?” As soon as he speaks you feel grounded. You nodded, and he replicated the movement. “We’ll wait for him there then, come on.”
You started walking, comfortable silence was one of your favourite things. Just knowing that he was there made you feel better, glancing at him from time to time, catching him staring at you everytime you did so. Making your lips curve everytime you catch him.
The van wasn’t there.
“Fuck.”
“He left?” His tone was a bit agressive now, not at you, if anything he just was protective, so in consequence he seemed pissed that he had left you stranded. Alone.
“I’m guessing he got lucky with the blonde.” You chuckled out of nervousness. Your hand playing with your hair, placing a strand of it behind your ear, trying to look everywhere but him. “S’fine, I’ll just call a taxi and wake Dustin up.”
“Shut up.” He scoffed, his arms crossing in front of his chest, looking down at you, a look of decision in his eyes. There was no way you were going home alone. “I’ll drive you, c’mon.”
“I don’t have my keys.” You mumbled. “Dustin has mine. I was supposed to sleep over.”
“Then you’ll sleep over. Let’s go.” His hand reached out, an invitation you weren’t sure you should take, but do anyway.
-
The car ride had been filled by music, and soft touches. Loving stares, and nervous chuckles.
It really did feel like old times.
It didn’t help that his house smelled the same, and time seemed to not move in the Harrington household.
The only difference was the most noticeable of them all. All of the family pictures had been put down.
“You changed it up.” You whispered as soon as you walked in, seeing the bare walls, were paint was darker where frames used to be.
“They don’t live here anymore. So…” You knew he wanted to tell you about it, just as much as you knew he didn’t want to talk about it now, so you just nodded, and he understood what you knew. Words weren’t even necessary.
“Who does?” You changed the topic, slightly, once you saw a jacket that wasn’t his hanged on the wall.
“Robin.” He smiled, his face relaxing and becoming brighter. “Her parents didn’t really get the whole… uh… liking girls things.”
“Right, how is she?” You had wanted to reach out to her, but you weren’t sure if she’d wanted to hear from you, you worried, and Steve’s voice echoed in your head you worry too much.
“She missed you.” He confessed with a smile, starting to climb up the stairs, finding his way to his bedroom, you followed him closely. “We all did, I guess.”
His head hung low for a second, remorse in his voice. Looking back at you for a moment before he turned on his bedroom light, his skin glistened under the moonlight that sneaked through his window. You smiled, seeing him in this light again, with the same background that you had becomed so familiar with once before.
His walls where still the same colour, and bedsheets were still stripped. It smelled and felt the same as it had always done, and for a moment -however brief- you were back in time.
You were eighteen again, and you were sneaking into his room for the first time again.
The orangy bedside table filled the room again, and Steve had his boyish grin that had made you fall in love with him all those years ago. He looked at you, fondly, lovingly, melancholically, as you looked around, noticing the new photos on the wall.
“Most of them are from Jonathan, some of them are your brother’s” You chuckled as you carefully looked at all of them, seeing what he had been up to.
Him working at Family Video with Robin, him with his hands on his hips, apron on and full of flour with a rag over his left shoulder. Him asleep on the back of Eddie’s van.
And your favourite one, Steve laing on your bed, looking straight through the camera, a smile that he was hiding behind his arm still evident by the way his face looks, barely woken up. You took that one, when he came to visit you, before you ended things.
“You looked really beautiful.” You whisper, a tone of sadness could be noted on your voice. But your body relaxed when you felt him stepping closer to yours.
“I don’t anymore?” He halved joked, the same lovesick look all over his face, his hair falling messily now that he had took his sweatshirt, hanging it back to you. A gesture that said you’re always cold before sleeping, you can wear it.
“Thanks.” You mutter before taking it, your body feeling his warmth through that piece of clothing. “You do. You always are.”
He stood there for a second, and you could tell he wanted to say something he didn’t quite have the courage to do so.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He answered, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pressed. You scoffed as you shook your head. He knew that you were saying don’t lie, i know you better than anyone. “Think I’m still drunk.”
“Maybe.” You admit with a half laugh, as you feel the weight of the alcohol that you did drink, and how it had swapped for tiredness not that the clock was closer to four. “You still have something in your mind.”
“Yeah.” He stepped closer to you. His voice was softer, quieter, sweeter. And his eyes couldn’t stop looking at yours. Well, that might have been a lie, he did look at your lips once or twice. His hand reached for yours, nervous that you might pull away. But you never did. You never could. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” You squeezed his hand tighter, wanting that gesture to make his frown disappear, but you only see his anxiousness shine for a second.
“I don’t know. Nothing? Everything?”
“You’re not making that much sense, Stevie.” It had slipped out, the old nickname. You felt a bit embarrassed until you saw him smile. A true deep fond smile.
“I know, honey.” His didn’t, he chose to say it. The dopiest grin that made your heart skip a beat came back, while his fingers played with yours. You could feel the warmness of your cheeks staying there. “I just… I meant everything I said, when we were together.”
“What-?”
He interrupted you, too iger to let you know what he had been thinking since he saw you through the club lights and the sea of drunk people.
“I told you, you were the one I love. It hasn’t changed. I’ve tried, believe me. I tried to stop loving you, and move on, and be with someone else, anyone, but they never came close to you. Nobody knows me like you do, nobody can read me like you do, and I don’t think I can love anyone else like I have loved you.”
With every word, with every breath your body came closer to his, excitement and electricity growing with every word that reached your ears, you couldn’t really believe that it was really happening.
And you weren’t conscious about what you were doing before you did. You just knew that your right hand was tangled with his, and that your left one was cupping his cheek, looking fondly at his eyes before closing the distance between your lips.
They were as soft as you remembered. And he still tastes the same as he did.
You enjoyed it, for as long as you could, your heart beating as one, as your breathing synchronized, and his neediness became yours. Your kiss, this gesture, was enough, more than words could even say.
“I haven’t stopped.” Your voice comes out lower, softer, quieter than you intended to. Your forehead pressed to his. Your eyes still closed, enjoying the way your breathing was mixing with his.
“Thank god.” He giggled as he pulled you close once again.
The second kiss was longer than the first one, but it still made your heart flutter, and your skin warming up in familiar desire. His free hand found his way to your waist, holding you closely, afraid that if he opens his eyes you might disappear.
“We can talk about us, tomorrow.”
“Yeah.”
You buried his head on his chest, as he pushed you closer to him. A warm hug that you didn’t want to see the end of, a closeness that you’d missed, and that you hoped you didn’t have to miss again.
The promise that tomorrow you’d wake up next to him again, and his warmth wrapping you up under the sheets let you actually rest for once.
-
if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3
requests! are open
#stranger things#stranger things 4#stranger things fanfiction fem!reader#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#eddie munson x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington imagine#stranger things steve#stablished relationship#steve harrington x reader#steve stranger things#steve x reader#sts4#steve harrington x afab!reder#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington headcanon#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington x ex!reader#steve harrington hurt/comfort#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x exgirlfriend reader#fluff steve harrington#hurt/comfort
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Bad Habit | Eddie Munson x Harrington!Reader
[3.0k]
Summary: your brother’s friend has a bad habit of sneaking into your bedroom
Content: Smut (18+ ONLY), AFAB!reader, r is Steve’s adopted sister and is a year younger than him, making out, grinding, oral/fingering (f receiving), virgin!reader, some pet names, fluff, two dummies in love <3
part two
The first time Eddie climbed through your bedroom window, you thought he was just trying to scare you. You had no idea you’d end that night in Eddie Munson’s lap desperately making out and barely giving in to the need for air.
Now, it’s a part of your nightly routine. It’s pretty simple.
Step 1: Get ready for bed
Step 2: Say goodnight to your naive brother
Step 3: Triple check that your door is locked and let in the cute boy patiently waiting outside your window
Sneaking around with Eddie made you feel alive. He sees you for who you really are.
Everyone else sees you as the quiet, innocent girl that occupies the corner of a room while your eyes wander, observing the people around you. While there’s nothing wrong with those things, Eddie knew you were much more than that and he was the perfect person to help you break out of your shell.
People expect you to be just like your brother. But when you turned out to be the complete opposite, no one paid much attention to you. As much as you loved Steve, being in his shadow made you feel invisible.
You weren’t much of a partier and you weren’t… friendly like Steve was. And by friendly you meant a little slutty. It was hard to get out there and make more friends let alone date anybody.
You were so drawn to Eddie from the moment you met him and ever since that first night he snuck into your room, you felt your walls start to come down and he’s the only person that doesn’t make that scary.
——————————————————————————
Three taps on your window alert you that Eddie’s outside. You scurry over to let him in and greet him with a quick peck on the lips. Your arms wrap around his neck and his hands find your waist, pulling you a step closer to him.
“Hey, gorgeous” He says with his signature smirk on his face.
“Hi’ You reply, shyly. Even though Eddie helps you out of your comfort zone, you can’t help but avert eye contact whenever he compliments you.
Every time you do, Eddie puts his hand under your chin and gently tilts your head up. “Don’t hide from me, pretty girl” He loves making you bashful almost as much as he loves kissing you.
Eddie guides you to your bed, never breaking eye contact. He falls backwards and pulls you down with him, making you giggle.
“I missed you” He whispers quietly, like he’s scared you’ll hear him being vulnerable. “I missed you, too.” Usually you would make a joke like “yeah it’s been a whole twenty-four hours. How did you survive?” But you always miss him.
You can’t exactly tell him you wish you could shrink yourself to three inches tall so you can live in his pocket and never be apart, so you cover it up with humor. But right now, there’s nothing funny about the way your heart is beating because of the way he’s looking at you. Like you’re the only girl in the world.
Eddie likes to tease you. He thinks it’s cute that you whine when he doesn’t immediately give you what you want. He knows it's a little mean but it makes him feel wanted and being wanted by you is the best thing he’s ever experienced.
His nose brushes yours and you think he’s going to put his lips on yours, but instead he gives you a soft kiss on your cheek. Then on your forehead. And one on both corners of your mouth.
“Eddiieeee” You whine and he chuckles. “What, baby?” He asks like he has no clue what he’s doing to you. So as expected, you do your signature pouty face and he has to act like it doesn’t affect him as much as it actually does.
You decide you can’t wait anymore. You take his face in your hands and lean in to get what you’ve been waiting for all day.
His hand comes up to grab a hold of your wrist. You worry he's going to remove your hands from his face, but he just keeps his hand on your wrist, rubbing it lovingly with his thumb. His other hand goes to rest on your lower back, sliding under your shirt. The feeling of his big hand on the bare skin of your back sends shivers down your spine.
Eddie’s tongue swipes across your bottom and you open your mouth to grant him access. He brings the hand that’s holding your wrist to where his other hand rests on your lower back. Both hands begin to slide up your back, making your shirt ride up all the way to your shoulder blades.
You let out a small gasp, suddenly feeling exposed. “You okay?” Eddie asks, worried by your reaction to your shirt being halfway off. You hum in response and find his lips again.
For the past month, you and Eddie hadn’t gone further than messily making out and clothed dry humping. It’s not that you don’t want to go further. You want nothing more than to rip his clothes off and then have him do the same to you, but you worry that your lack of experience would turn him off.
It was no secret to Eddie that you were a virgin. Considering he was your first kiss since Bobby Hopkins in the third grade and how nervous you got around him, it wasn’t that hard to piece together. Of course he wants to be your first time, but doesn't want to pressure you. If things never went any further and he had to go home and jerk off after every makeout session, he would happily do so.
After a while, you pull back for air and roll off of Eddie, laying on your side to look at him. He rolls on his side to look at you. “Hi” He speaks up, scooting closer to you. “Hi” You place a kiss on the tip of his nose. His hand comes up to rest on your hip and you cover his hand with your own.
Neither of you speak a word. You just stare into each other's eyes with lovesick smiles on your faces and soak in each other's presence. These nights are your favorite. Everytime you all hang out in a group, you ache to touch him. It’s difficult to keep your hands off one another, but it’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make if it means keeping your brother from killing Eddie.
Eddie’s about to say something but before he can, there’s a knock at your door. “y/n?’’ Steve calls out your name from the other side of your bedroom door. Your eyes widen and both of you freeze. Steve says your name again and you know he isn’t going away until you respond.
“Y-yeah?” You barely get out. Steve tries to open your door and sounds offended when it doesn’t open. “Why the hell is your door locked?” He’s still wiggling the doorknob. “Because I’m allowed to lock it. How can I help you?” Eddie snorts at this and you glare at him.
“Do you have my walkman?” You can’t help but roll your eyes at this question. “No, I don’t have your walkman. I have my own walkman that I got on the same Christmas that you got yours. I’ll help you look in the morning.” You hear Steve huff dramatically and walk away.
“I’m gonna put on some music” You say before rolling off your bed. “Play my favorite?” Eddie requests. You were going to play his favorite anyway.
Once the music starts, you turn around and see Eddie playing air guitar. He’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. You don’t move from where you're standing. You just stay put and watch him act like a total idiot. He’d act like an idiot for the rest of his life if it meant making you smile.
He finishes his air guitar solo and looks over at you and tilts his head. “C'mere,” He says, motioning for you to sit next to him.
Once you get to the bed, you crawl towards him and straddle his lap. Feeling hot and bothered, you place your hands on his shoulders and start to grind down on him. Eddie lets out a sigh and throws his head back to rest on your headboard.
Feeling bold, you take his chin in your hand and move his head so he’s looking at you. He puts his hands on your hips and encourages you to move faster.
You can feel him getting hard and you let out a small moan. Eddie puts a hand on the back of your head and pushes you closer to him, capturing you in a breathtaking kiss.
You’re moaning into each other's mouths and it feels so good, but you need more. You pull away from him and take a second to catch your breath, thinking of how you want to word what you’re about to say.
Eddie can tell you want to tell him something. “What is it, baby?” He brings a hand to your face and rubs his thumb back and forth on your cheek. Your heart swells at how well he knows you.
“I was wondering if we could take things a bit further tonight.” You respond and his smile widens. “Hell yeah we can. You sure?” You can’t nod fast enough.
“Lay on your back for me. Don’t be scared to tell me if you want me to stop, kay?”
“Okay” You smile and roll onto your back.
Eddie hovers over you and leans down to give you a quick peck on the lips. Then he starts to kiss down your jaw and to your neck. He starts with light kisses and when he hits the sensitive spot on your neck, he kisses harder. He starts to suck on your sensitive spot, making you moan.
Usually, you both steer clear hickeys to avoid questionings from any of your friends and your brother, especially. But right now, you’re so turned on you can’t find it in yourself to care. You wrap your arms around his back and push his full weight onto you. He licks and kisses at the fresh mark.
“Fuck, that feels nice” You moan out. “Want me to do something even better?” He pulls back and smirks at you. “Please.”
He goes to tug at the hem of your shirt and looks at you for approval. Once you give it to him, he removes your shirt and is pleased to see that you aren’t wearing a bra. He looks up at you and raises his eyebrows. “What? No sane woman wears a bra to bed.” He laughs and shakes his head. “Trust me, I am not complaining.”
He goes back to kissing your neck. His kisses start moving down to your chest and he plants one on each of your breasts before taking one of your nipples in his mouth.
It feels…different, but in the best way possible. “Eddie, that feels so good” You’re trying to keep quiet but you’re feeling things you’ve never felt before.
“Say my name again”
“Do something that will make me say your name again”
You can tell he’s surprised at that.
“Challenge accepted”
He kisses down your stomach and puts his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. At a torturously slow place, he pulls your shorts down and throws them on the floor. “No panties either? Is it my birthday, sweetheart?” You laugh and roll your eyes. “Get back to it, Munson” You say in the most unserious tone ever. “Jeez, okay. Someone’s bossy”
“Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you, uh, take your shirt off too? This feels unfair”
Eddie doesn’t hesitate to take off his shirt.
“Maybe your pants too?”
“Anything for you” And he means it.
He stands up to take off his pants. Once they’re off you can see how hard he is and your jaw drops. Your clit throbs at the sight and you involuntarily whine.
Eddie sits on his knees, placing himself in between your legs. “I’m gonna touch you now, okay?” “Eddie, please. Need you” you mewl.
He runs a finger through your folds and groans at how wet you are. “All this for me, baby?”
You nod “Just for you. Always”
“Tell me, pretty girl. Do you ever touch yourself and think of me?” He starts to slowly rub your clit. Your eyes roll back and you slap your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. “Tell me or I’ll stop” You remove your hand from your mouth and try to keep quiet. “Yes. Every night after you leave”
He starts rubbing your clit a little faster and you start to lose composure. “What do you think about?”
“I think about you touching me. Just like this. Or going down on me. I think about your cock inside me. Fucking me until I can’t take it anymore” You admit. “Hmm. I think we could start to make some of those fantasies realities”
He removes his fingers from your clit and you feel like you’re gonna pass away if he doesn’t make you cum any time soon. “Eddie, please don’t stop. pleasepleaseplease. Touch me again” You feel desperate for begging, but lucky for you, Eddie is even more turned on than before.
He doesn’t say anything. He just lays down between your legs, admiring how wet you are. You’re about to beg some more but then he starts to run his tongue up and down your folds. “Oh my god”
He begins to suck your clit and it feels so fucking good you can’t believe it. Sure, you’ve heard your friends talk about it, but you never would’ve imagined it feeling this good.
Your eyes start to tear up and you look down at Eddie, letting out a moan when you see how much he’s enjoying it.
Your fingers thread through his hair and pull it a little, making him moan into your pussy. You swear you feel the vibrations throughout your entire body. You don’t think it can get any better until Eddie slowly inserts a finger into you. You would have expected it to feel uncomfortable, but there's nothing unpleasant about it. “More, Eds” You plead.
He thinks about teasing you for a second, but he knows how badly you want it. He obliges and inserts another finger, reaching that spot you can never reach on your own.
You can feel the tension building in your stomach and Eddie starts going faster. His fingers are pumping in and out of you and you can hear how wet you are. He’s eating you out like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Eddie can’t help rutting up against the mattress. The way your pussy feels and the noises you make are driving him fucking mad. Both of you swear you’ve died and gone to heaven.
It hits you like a fucking bus. Your back is arching off the bed and you have to cover your face with your pillow because it’s impossible to keep quiet. You’ve never been more thankful that you don’t share a wall with Steve.
Eddie works you through your orgasm and slowly takes his fingers out of you when you're finished. You look lifeless and he can’t help but chuckle at how blissed out you look. He slowly crawls next to you and lays down,
“You alright?” He whispers.
“Well, I feel like I left my body for a second so I would say I’m more than alright.”
“Good. So you had fun?” Eddie sounds insecure. You turn to look at him before you respond.
“Eddie, were you not there? I was losing my mind. I had no idea it could be that good” You give him a well-deserved ego boost and he flashes his million dollar smile. “Okay, your turn.” You say, eagerly. “Don’t worry, babe. I came in my boxer like a goddamn teenager.” His cheeks turn red and you give him a kiss on the cheek. “Next time?” you ask. “Definitely”
You lay your head on his chest and he wraps an arm around you. “Thank you” You say, snuggling as close as possible. “For what?” He starts to rub your back. “Everything. My life’s better with you in it’’ Eddie’s heart nearly bursts. He can’t believe he’s improved your life even a little bit.
“Anything for my girl” He kisses the top of your head. Your lift your head up and look at him with the biggest smile on your face “Your girl?” Eddie tries to play it cool “Yeah, if that’s something you’d be interested in.” You can’t think of anything else you’d rather be. “Only if you agree to be my boyfriend.” “Hm.. can I think about it?” You playfully smack his chest. He grabs your hand and kissed it, looking into your eyes.
“How about you agree to be my girlfriend and I’ll agree to be your boyfriend and everyone’s happy”
“Deal, boyfriend” You can’t resist the urge to kiss him any longer. He hums in appreciation and the kiss goes on longer than intended.
“I should probably get going” He sighs. “Nooooo” you protest, holding on to him tighter. “I know, but I gotta unless you want to risk your overprotective brother finding out I’m here” You know he’s right and you move allowing him to get up. He hands you the clothes thrown on the floor and you both get dressed.
“Maybe I can stay with you tomorrow night? I can tell Steve I’m staying with a friend.” You move to stand in front of Eddie. “Yeah, I’d like that.” He smiles and pulls you in for a hug.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” You nod and he gives you one last kiss.
You watch him climb out of your window and after you shut it, you stare out your window to watch him run out of your yard. He turns around to give you a wave and being the wonderful girlfriend that you are, you decide to flash him. Without hesitation, Eddie lifts his shirt up and flashes you back, causing you to laugh a little too loud.
There’s no doubt in your mind that this is the man you’re going to spend your life with.
#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x afab reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x harrington!reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fic#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader#steve harrington#18+ fic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson blurb
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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
summary eddie munson is super weird. he holds your hand too tight, he has a fascination with your neck, and he can’t give a hickey to save his life. good thing you’re super weird, too. [20k]
warnings two losers falling in love!! vampire!eddie munson, ditzy!reader (kind of), fem!reader, smut mdni (p in v, unprotected sex, oral fem receiving, general heavy petting and kissing, praise), fluff, hurt/comfort, angst (eddie struggling with guilt and grief). canon divergent (the events of volume 2 take place but there’s a mostly happy ending i.e. everyone good lives and everyone bad dies) TW eddie doesn't have suicidal thoughts, but he does think about it briefly. not with intent or anything like that though. requested here for my halloween party <3
(㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
Eddie Munson never wanted to be a vampire, and he wants that on the record.
It's a ridiculous existence. It's embarrassing. It's nothing like all the movies and books promised him.
He's looking at you, Bram Stoker.
In Eddie's mind, Stoker’s nothing less than a liar and a sycophant.
"Who's dick were you bouncing on, Stoker?" he demands to know, kicking fallen leaf mulch under his feet angrily. "Need'ta fucking impress some vampire lover with your over-exaggerated, over-powered, ridiculous descriptions? Great. Hope it was worth it. Meanwhile I'm here, self-esteem half the size of a grain of rice because I can't scale a building with my bare hands."
Eddie would know. He's tried.
He's not genuinely angry with Bram Stoker, but he'd rather take his frustrations out on a guy who's been dead for a hundred years than take them out on the demobats, because he doesn't want to even think about the demobats. They're all dead too. Not before they'd had (see: devoured) their pound of flesh and changed his life for the worse, though.
He shakes his head to drive out the memory like water in his ears. It's easier to pretend none of that shit in the upside down ever happened. (Impossible to pretend. He begs himself to try anyway.)
He’s pissed because science fiction has promised him a lot of things and reality has delivered on none of them. No super strength, no impermeable skin. He is faster, but that's more a reflexive thing than anything else. And being faster doesn't make running fun. That’s impossible.
Sunlight breaks through the treeline and his skin crawls. Science fiction didn't get that right, either. The sun doesn't hurt. It's just really, really annoying.
He covers his eyes, winces at his itchy hand, pulls his sleeve over his fingers and covers his eyes again. "This blows," he says, and means it.
In Dracula, the sun nulls Dracula’s supernatural abilities. Eddie doesn’t have any abilities worth nulling, unless you count echolocation.
He doesn’t.
He walks another five minutes up the road toward Forest Hills when he realises you're behind him. His senses are enhanced now as a bat’s might be, hearing fine-tuned and dialled up every second of the day — which makes living in a trailer park where everyone thinks he's a murderer an acute misery — but he's as prone to distraction as anyone else. Especially when he gets stuck in a memory.
Eddie throws his gaze over his shoulder and finds you thirty or forty feet away, talking to yourself under your breath. He knows you more for your sounds than your appearance. To be able to put a face to your mindless babbling is a mystery solved. Of course you look like that. A skirt made of soft looking fabric bounces over two cute thighs, a pretty lacy corset type of thing that isn't too tight outfits your top half. You look more like a vampire than he does.
"Hi, Eddie," you call.
His eyes widen, a deer-in-the-headlights kind of surprise. If you notice how he's frozen you don't show it, continuing to push your bike toward him. The tick of the wheels grows louder as you get closer, two hands on the handlebars with wrists draped in bracelets, both silver and fabric.
Besides your jewellery, your arms are bare. You must be freezing.
"Hey," he says.
He doesn't know your name. He doesn't know how you know his, and he’s too awkward to ask.
Your sounds peak as you close the gap. The wet scrape of your dirty black canvas shoes over shining asphalt, the soft puff of your breath, the clinking sounds of whatever trinkets you have in your bag. If he focuses, he can make out the tiniest pinches of fabric. Your short sleeves rubbing against your arms, your bra straps stretching over your shoulders.
Eddie takes a deep breath and tries to diminish his senses.
"Where's your van?" you ask curiously.
"Piece of shit kicked it in the middle of town. Just my luck."
You pause at his side, looking him up and down obviously but without the judgement or irreverent disgust he's come to expect from near about everybody in Hawkins.
"That's not good," you say succinctly.
It's such a genuine response that Eddie can't find it in himself to be sarcastic.
"God awful," he agrees sullenly.
You nod and start to walk again. Eddie falls naturally into step beside you, matching your pace without thinking.
"You should get a bike."
He laughs. Coughs to cover it up. "Yeah?"
"They're way more reliable than a car, and it doesn't hurt the zone."
Eddie squints. "The o-zone?"
"Is there another one?"
You're still so serious that he spares you the ridicule he might dole out to anyone else. If Dustin had said something like that he would've ripped the kid a new one, but you're rather sweet in an odd way. You have a soft manner of talking — each word sounds like you've thought its pronunciation through meticulously beforehand.
He ignores your question and points at your bike, ring catching the sun. "Why aren't you riding it?"
"My chain slipped."
"So much for reliable."
That makes you smile. Eddie feels it like a punch, a flat palm slapped into his chest.
"You can't put the chain on yourself?"
A brisk breeze whips your hair, your earrings. The left kisses your cheek, a silver heart-shaped hoop with pink beads that click together. You lean into it, face tilted to one side as a perplexed smile plays on your sticky lips. "You can do that?"
"Sure, you pull it back around the gear. It's easy." He hesitates for a moment, and then feels guilty about hesitating. "I'll do it for you, if you want."
"The guy in no. 62 has been charging me ten dollars." You don't sound as angry as you should, in Eddie's opinion.
"I'll do it for nothing."
You beam at him. His chest feels like a bruise.
Pretty girls don't like Eddie. Not before Chrissy, not after. He's trying to work out your angle, what it is that you want.
Or maybe you don't know.
As soon as you find out who he is, you'll turn your pretty nose up at him and walk the other way. He shouldn't smile at you, he definitely shouldn't fix your bike.
He can't help it. He's so starved for positive attention that he follows you all the way through the park, westside to east.
He checks the driveway of his own home and smiles mildly when he spots Wayne's new car. It's new in the sense that it's different. It's actually way older than the one he'd had before, the one he'd pawned to pay for Eddie's — well, Eddie's everything. His check-ups, his court dates, his goddamn bail. In the same way that this trailer isn't the trailer, but an older, smaller one as far away from their first as possible.
Kid, if I had the money…
Wayne hadn't needed to finish. If he had the money, they'd leave. Leave Hawkins, leave Indiana. Settle down in some other mediocre Midwestern state with all the same creature comforts and none of the "You were acquitted but literally none of us believe you didn't kill someone," motif.
All they have now is debt, each other, and the Great Munson mug collection.
Eddie keeps his head down as they pass the old trailer. Nobody lives inside now. Only termites.
He can taste blood by the time they reach your home. Far from the metallicity of his human blood, Eddie's blood now harbours a bitter taste. Not quite like coffee but with that same overwhelming earthiness. He pulls his teeth from the bitten flesh of his bottom lip and quickly raises a hand to his teeth, alarmed.
No knife-like points. Normal teeth.
"Are you thirsty?" you ask him.
Eddie flinches and drops his hand. You've parked your bike against the wooden lifts of your porch and are halfway up the steps to your front door, hand clasped loosely on the railing.
His heart fucking pounds.
"I have grape juice?"
"Right," he says hurriedly, "right. Yeah, that would be awesome."
Duh, you meant juice.
You send him another endearing smile and pop up the last of your steps and into the front door. It's not locked. He doesn't follow, thinking you must live with somebody (who's gonna know exactly who he is and tell him to get lost).
He turns his attention to your bike instead. It's easy enough to fix. He rolls the bike so its handlebars are resting against your concrete driveway and covers the top bar of the metal body with his sneaker to stop it from toppling. He rolls up his sleeves and bares his arms, but pulls them back down immediately when he remembers the white-purple whorls of scar tissue lurking underneath.
"Fuck," he mutters. Everything is a reminder, all of the time. He can't escape what happened.
It's everywhere.
He's getting his fingers under the chain when you reappear. You've layered up, bracelets and naked arms hidden by a black hoodie.
The wind blows and your skirt shifts. From his position he can see a ladder hiding in your tights where your inner thighs are pressed together. He whips his gaze up like a high-school perv caught sneaking peeks in the girls locker room and notices the stitching on your chest for the first time.
"You like Dio?" he asks excitedly.
"Who?"
He wilts. "Uh, your hoodie. Dio."
"I got it for three dollars in the bargain bins," you supply helpfully, all pep as you climb down the stairs and offer him a glass cup adorned in dainty enamel flowers. "Is Dio good?"
He waves his hand at the glass apologetically. "Two seconds…" Lifting the chain with the second hand, Eddie tugs and then feeds until the links are lined up with the bumps on the big chainring. The skin on his fingertips get pinched and his eyebrows pull together in pain, but it's a mild irritant at worst and after a moment the chain is back in place.
He pulls his hand away and wipes dark grease down the front of his jacket. "I think I did it."
You're glowing, earrings like a metronome as you ask, "That fast? You're awesome."
He turns the pedal and your back wheel spins in time with his heart. You're awesome. When was the last time somebody who wasn't Wayne said anything like that?
Although Dustin had told him he thought Eddie was a much cooler, more fucked up version of the guy from Van Halen the other day.
You're just saying that 'cos we're both called Eddie, Eddie had said morosely.
Learn to take a compliment, dude.
When they aren't pity compliments, he might.
Eddie lifts your bike back onto the wheels to show you that it's working perfectly. You giggle your evident pleasure. "Oh, thank you, thank you!" you say, super sweet even as grape juice sloshes over the rims of your flowered glasses and drips down your fingers.
"Here, let me," he says, taking the glasses from your purple-stained hands.
You kiss your hands clean which is a thing, a lot to watch. Eddie admits to himself that he thinks you're really pretty, recognises that that is a bad thing to think considering the likely very short life span of your acquaintance. God knows you won't be saying anything as friendly when you find out who he is.
"You're so nice," you say. It feels like you're talking more to yourself than him. "Thank you. It's slipped off three times this month, and ten dollars is ten dollars. Wait, do you want ten dollars?"
"My services were administered charitably.”
Your smile grows. You accept your glass and take a small sip, eyes lit up as Eddie steers your bike one-handed to rest against the porch.
"Do you wanna come inside? I don't have any of the Dio, but I have Blondie."
He holds in a throwaway comment about real rock and roll, astounded that you’d ask him. "Your folks aren't home?"
"I'm twenty-two."
Eddie squints at you. "Seriously?"
"You didn't think so?"
He shrugs. It's not that you don't look twenty two. Or even that you don't act twenty two. But it's been a long time since he met somebody living alone in the park. Forest Hills is where poverty comes to settle.
"A boyfriend?"
"Just me and mister Porterson."
"That your grandpa?"
"That's my pet fish."
He smiles. It's his first real, authentic smile in days. He's genuinely elated by your offer and your attitude, but he doesn't know how to handle it, struck with a sudden nightmare of you, afterward, telling somebody you'd invited him in and he'd tried to hurt you. It isn't fair of him to assume you'd do anything like that. You've been nothing but sweet and sincere this whole time.
Eddie hasn't let his guard down in a long time.
You're giving him this wide-eyed, imploring look that promptly suffocates any fear.
And in a week, when she finds out who you are and feels betrayed, feels tricked? What then, Munson?
"You know what happened?" he asks.
"What happened?"
"Two years ago. Chrissy… Chrissy Cunningham?"
Don't say her fucking name.
Your expression clears as clarity blooms. You take a step. He needs a second to realise you've come forward rather than away, fingers twitching toward his hand.
"I know about it. I'm sorry that happened to you."
He stares.
This is a trick. Two years and he can count the amount of people who believe him on his two hands, and only because they'd all gone through it with him. Sometimes there are outliers, logical people who seem to realise Eddie couldn't have killed all those people, couldn't have been in all those different places without leaving any evidence behind. And sometimes there are people who agree he didn't kill Chrissy, but he's a coward for leaving her to die. (She’d already been dead.)
Eddie doesn't know what he thinks. Wayne sets the record straight every now and then with a clap on the shoulder. You did what every parent wants their kid to do. You lived. I can't ask for more than that.
"You don't believe it?"
"That you hurt her?" You hold his gaze, face practically impassive. "No, I don't believe it."
He pulls in a breath that fills every inch of his chest. "I could learn to like Blondie," he says.
—
You're standing in the driveway of Eddie's trailer with a heavy bag over your shoulder, face to face with a man who kind of looks like him but not really. You assume it's his uncle because who else could he be? If you hadn't seen him here you'd never guess.
"Eddie's mom must've had strong genes," you say. You bring your shoulder up toward your cheek thoughtfully. "He didn't get any of your face. Was she pretty? Eddie's really pretty."
"She was," he says, peering down his nose at you.
"I got sandwiches. Do you want one?"
"What kind?"
"I have ham and cheese, or ham and lettuce and tomato, or I have pumpernickel cookies. Is Eddie a vegetarian?"
"Why?"
"'Cause I only brought one cheese and cucumber, and I have dibs."
He climbs down the last couple of steps and is still taller but definitely less imposing, face covered in scratchy salt and pepper stubble and crows feet deeply embedded into the corners of his eyes. He looks like a man who has been tired for a very long time. You make a mental note to bring him some lavender for his pillow on your next visit.
"You're Eddie's new friend?"
You nod your head briskly. "Yes, sir. I'm Y/N."
He opens his box of camels like a pro, bottom pressed to his chest. He tucks a cigarette between his lips and pulls his lighter out. He doesn't light it.
"It's nice to meet you," he says eventually, voice warming.
You search through the mess of your skirt for the zipper on your bag and peel it open, pulling out your tupperware of cookies and cracking them open to release the fragrant smell of cinnamon and almonds. It's a heady scent, fitting for the holiday season approaching.
You offer Eddie’s uncle a cookie.
"Thought pumpernickel was bread," he says gruffly, taking one.
"It is, but there's this little town in France that makes these every year at Christmas and they call them pumpernickel biscuits," — he takes a bite and winces at the hard snap — "you're s'posed to dip them in hot chocolate."
"You don't say."
You nod happily and he moves aside to let you pass.
"Thanks, kid."
You turn back to him with your fingers curled around the door handle. "Of course! It's really nice to meet you, Mr. Munson, sir."
"Wayne is fine."
You laugh and repeat his name in a similarly rough voice, letting yourself in as Eddie had told you to do. You find him immediately in a man-made corner of the living room, pale and in his pyjamas. The trailer is open planned, a living room they’ve divided by propping a couch against the kitchen counter, a slim hallway leading to a cramped bathroom and the single bedroom. It's exactly like in your home.
You're somewhat surprised to see him in pyjamas. Eddie doesn't wear comfy looking clothes out of the house — you've only ever seen him in jeans and jackets like a real rockstar.
"Are you ready?" you ask.
You've invited him to come and search for bugs with you. Catching any kind of bug, whether beetle or butterfly or spider, is really scary, but you need to be able to catch them to draw them.
You'd expressed this to him over the phone and he'd said, "I can come and help. I have good reflexes."
He rubs his hands over his knees. There's a blanket pooled around his feet, a quilt he must sleep with, and the room is decorated with not a whole lot of stuff but enough to make you take a step back.
"Is this your room?" you ask, enchanted.
"Kind of." He pulls his hair from behind his ear, obscuring a pale cheek. "I don't think I can come with you today, I'm sorry. I meant to call you."
You toy with a dark thigh high sock as you ease out of your shoes, height drastically decreasing. "That's okay, we can stay here. I brought you a sandwich. I brought you two sandwiches," you correct.
He nods. Rather sadly, in your opinion. "Alright. Thanks."
You step over a tented paperback and hand off the cookies before sitting down beside him on the couch he's occupying. It's smaller than the one against the wall and round like a clam, lots of room for your legs to stretch out.
"I feel like a pearl," you say.
You and Eddie have been friends for a little while now. Long enough for you to realise he's either depressed or mentally unwell in some way. You hardly mind keeping him company on his bad days if he needs somebody, so drawing bugs will have to wait.
His hair is limp, not totally greasy but not super clean either. His face looks fresh enough, though the bags under his eyes make you frown.
You pull your purse into your lap, thighs covered by the thin layers of your midi skirt. "I have just the thing for you," you murmur.
"Yeah? Bring me another bracelet?"
You like that he sounds eager. Making his bracelet had been a challenge, lots of knotting and double knotting, three restarts and one small under the breath tantrum. It's not anything special, black and white hearts seven strands wide, but he'd been very appreciative.
"No, but I can make you another one if you want. I mastered the inverse chevron last night."
He hums. You pull a saran wrapped sandwich from the depths of your crowded bag, glad to see it's mostly intact. When you open it up you find that it's the ham and lettuce and tomato one, so you drop it into his lap haphazardly and move onto the next.
"Aha! Here," you pull a cucumber from your sandwich. "For you."
He takes it between two tentative fingers. "Thank you?"
"For your eyes."
"There's cheese on it."
"I'll still work," you assure him.
"M'not putting cheese on my eyes."
You laugh because he probably shouldn't put cheese on his eyes, cucumber adjacent or otherwise. "Okay, don't. I'll make you a hot towel."
He drops his hand on your arm as you go to stand. You like how he touches you, soft but not scared. "You just got here. Stay here." He pats you nicely. "Tell me about work last night."
You settle heavily into the seat beside him, your thigh to his thigh, your hip squished against his hip, doughy flesh separated by nothing more than a strappy tank top and a cotton long-sleeve t-shirt. His heat quickly becomes yours, a sinking transference of warmth.
"Well," you begin, cheek turning into the couch to face him. "It was mostly okay. I dropped another plate, but this time it didn't have a stack of waffles on it."
He smiles ruefully and sinks back as you had. Neither of you eat your sandwiches. "Progress. Taking it out of your pay?"
"Yes, definitely."
"Discrimination."
"That's what I said! I said, Sarah, I was born with butterfingers and you know that."
"She didn't budge?"
"Dishwashing all week next week. Whatever, though, 'cause it's Saturday."
He laughs and shakes his head, his gaze dropping to your neck. He does that sometimes. You can't blame him; you wear a varying assortment of necklaces because you think they're pretty, and you're glad he likes them too.
"See my new one?"
"What?"
"New necklace." You look down at your chest and pull the newest addition from between the cups of your bra. "It's real silver."
"It's nice."
"It's surprisingly heavy. Wanna feel?"
"That's okay," he says, slightly strained.
Right, you think. I'm talking a lot.
You press your lips together in a mild pout and look at him through appreciative eyes. He's a very pretty boy, all soft and pale and sweet dark curls.
"Do you want me to put your hair up?"
His lips part before he talks. "I don't know if you should."
"Sure I should. It's getting in your eyes, right?" You take his hand where it's laid unsuspectingly in his lap and slip the hair tie from around his wrist, his fingertips tickling the inside of your palm. "Sit forward, Eddie."
He takes a deep breath, holds it, and sits up. You twist and then realise you need some more height, pushing a leg under yourself to kneel next to his lap.
You weave our fingers softly into the hair at the front of his face and rake away in lieu of a brush. After it's mostly tamed you pull it all into one hand and wrap the tie at the base of his head. You hum to yourself as you go, pleased when his lovely curls behave.
"Voilà," you announce, moving back on your haunches.
He breathes out. "Thank you."
You reach for a curl you'd missed at the very front and encourage it behind his ear. He has subtle indents in his cheeks today like he's in need of a good meal, and his skin is colder than it should be when you flatten your palm.
"You need something to eat," you fret. Your fingertips stroke under his eye, your thumb his smile lines.
He moves away slowly.
You pull your hand back into your lap. "Maybe we can go out and get something, if you don't like the sandwich?"
"What?" he asks, pale lips taut as he simpers at you. "Are you kidding? This is about to fix everything that's wrong with me."
His enthusiasm emboldens you. "It so will! There's ham and cheese too, if you prefer that one."
"Get it! I'm gonna eat both of them." S
Eddie eats both of his sandwiches and you eat your own, the two of you with your heads dropped back against the couch as you watch TV. There's a guy you've never seen before running around the streets of Chicago city centre looking for people to be in his play. Eddie's seen it before. He repeats dialogue in time with the characters, performing each line. Impressive, what with how tired he looks.
"What did he just say?" you ask, mouth full of cucumber.
"He said he's gonna throw himself off a bridge," Eddie informs. "Poor guy. I know the feeling."
You swallow harshly.
"Seriously?"
Your sad tone surprises him.
"I- No, I'm kidding," he says, scratching the base of his throat, friendship bracelet his only adornment.
His nervous itching makes you even more worried.
"If you did wanna do that, you can talk to me-"
He baulks, tongue poking out past his lips as he licks the corner of his mouth. "Thanks, sweetheart," he says, pet name like a kiss. It sounds silly but it really feels like one, right in the centre of your chest. "But I'm fine. Promise. It was a bad joke."
"Okay," you say, letting your suspicion shine through. You hold his eyes.
You haven't known Eddie long. It feels like you met yesterday, though really it's been two or three weeks. You fit together in a way you hadn't expected and adore more than you can articulate, two funny puzzle pieces.
"Well, I just wanted you to know. I like being your friend, I don't want you to disappear."
He laughs and licks his lips, a rough, chesty sound. "I don't want you to disappear either."
Tires crunch outside, a shushing sound and then the sharp shriek of a jeep being put into park. Eddie perks up considerably, his shoulders straightening.
"Hey, Chief," Wayne calls.
Trailer walls. Basically made of cardboard.
"Hey, Wayne. Where's the kid?"
You can't hear what Wayne says after that, words stolen by the TV.
"Is that Chief Hopper?" you ask, trying to catch a glimpse of him through the mostly shuttered blinds.
"Yeah, he- He's friends with Wayne."
"Why's he wanna know where you are?"
"'Cause I got into so much trouble."
You bite your tongue. His tone is hard, not stern but almost, and you realise you've overstepped as you usually do. You want to apologise but you don't want to pick the wound, eager to gloss over and make him smile again.
"It's pretty cool, isn't it?" you ask him.
"What?"
You spread your legs wider to slide onto your thighs and make him the taller one again, legs bent in a 'W' shape. "Coming back from the dead! First Will Byers, then Hopper."
Something surfaces in his expression. An irony.
"The undead," you croon, aiming for a smile, a laugh.
He cracks. "The undead," he agrees, smiling in bemusement. His eyes are a funny shade of brown.
—
Eddie shoo’s you home early that night but tries to do it kindly. He feigns exhaustion, a facade that's difficult to uphold when his entire body is thrumming with want. If there's one thing Eddie hates about being a vampire (there are literally hundreds of things he hates, but this one's special) it's that he wants to hurt the people he likes a thousand times more than the people he doesn't.
He can't explain it. Your blood is more appealing than any lonesome stranger's. Your pulse is practically music to his ears when you sit beside him. He'd kill himself before he ever hurt you, though. Or that's what he likes to think. Whether he has that amount of control is debatable.
No. He would kill himself before he hurt you, or Wayne, or any of his friends.
Steve can see the way that he's feeling on his face.
Hopper's delivery set to one side, a tall glass with blood congealed in a sticky ring at the bottom, Eddie curls under his huge quilt and tries not to pass out. Blood sate feels the same as a thanksgiving food coma. It's awesome.
He hates how good it feels.
"Stop feeling guilty," Steve says.
"He doesn't look guilty to me," Dustin says beside him, taller than the last time Eddie had seen him but still miles off of Steve's tall stature. He's changed his hat again, this one a garish green. It's not a good look.
"He looks like he's napping," Robin says, delighted.
"Can you guys go home?" Eddie asks.
"Shithead."
"What Steve means to say," Robin corrects, grinning her huge, catching smile, "is that no, we aren't going home. We brought games."
"I don't wanna play games." He does. Eddie needs the distraction, because eventually the blood sate will fade and all that will remain will be self-revulsion and a cruel desire to do something awful.
"I do not care even slightly," Steve says, deadpan, as he sits right there next to Eddie where you'd been sitting before. Steve's nowhere near as soft and he doesn't smell as nice, but Eddie's honestly glad someone is willing to sit next to him at all.
"Ouch, what the fuck?"
Dustin looks up from where he's sat himself on the floor. Robin giggles in her seat on the coffee table.
"Munson, are you fucking shedding? I just got stabbed."
"They don't work like that. They retract."
Eddie feels at his broken gums with his tongue. There's a clean incision where his fangs come out and then snap back inside after a time. They're remarkably thin, fitting in front of his natural incisors neatly.
Steve grumbles, hips lifted and hand searching under his butt for whatever it is that jabbed him. He retrieves exactly what Eddie had been expecting but hadn't had the forethought to prepare a lie about with a shocked gasp.
"Is this an earring? You don't have your ears pierced."
He swallows, knowing it's a very guilty gesture, and meets Steve's eyes straight on.
Funny how Steve's hair speaks as much as his expression, bobbing as he nods his head to emphasise each word, "Munson, do you have a girlfriend?"
Silence.
"...Not really."
"Holy shit," Dustin says, sounding extremely pleased. "No way."
Robin tucks her short hair behind her ears, hands paused in disbelief at her neck. "Actually?"
"I have a friend," Eddie admits.
"Thank god," Steve says, dropping your heart earring onto Eddie's thigh. The silver feels extremely hot over his pyjamas, like it's been held in the centre of a blistering hearth.
"I really thought Steve was gonna have to take one for the team and give you a pity handie," Robin says agreeably, scratchy voice coloured by genuine awe.
Eddie groans, "Harrington, get this shit off of me. You know I can't touch that."
"I forgot," Steve lies. "Can you wait? My hands are busy."
—
He has Steve put your earring between two pieces of kitchen towel and holds onto it. He doesn't see you for a week, and he keeps your damn earring in his pocket that entire time worried it's gonna slip out and brand him at any second.
Finally, you call him. He pretends he wasn't waiting.
"Hello," you say, like you're announcing something.
"Hey. How are you?"
"Eddie, I need your help. Badly."
He flinches up where he'd been leaning casually, hard enough to make Wayne jump. Eddie smiles at him placatingly and mouths a poor sorry, turning away to pretend there's a semblance of privacy to be found in such close quarters.
"Are you okay?"
"I gotta find a rainbow leaf beetle. Do you have a torch?"
"...What?"
"They only come out at night, so I'm gonna go look but I don't have a torch that works."
He relaxes, the lilting cadence of your voice enough to make his whole night. You sound so pretty even through the phone. He suspects you could hold any pitch, deep or high, and you'd still sound nice.
It's all in the way you — he says this with love — perform the words. You speak like each word you're saying has equal importance, and it's calming.
Even when you say stuff that's nonsense to him.
Right now, you don't sound upset or even worried about not having a torch, simply curious to know if he has one. If he focuses hard (and he's been trying not to, as you deserve your privacy) he can hear you all the way across the park, shifting from foot to foot in your bedroom, carpet crushed under your heels.
The action makes him think this might be more urgent to you than you'd first admitted.
"I have a torch." He also has amazing night vision. Like, impeccable. "Can I come help?"
"You want to?"
"I'd love to. Are you going out tonight?" He leans back to glance out the window. "The rain is finally stopping."
"Yeah, tonight! Is that okay for you? We could go tomorrow if you can't."
You're willing to change your plans now that he's asked to go with you. It's a gesture as lovely as you are. Eddie doesn't think you'd ever think it of yourself; your kindness is so intrinsic you don't notice it, like the fine stitching of a leather bound book. Integral and widely unappreciated.
"That's perfect."
Wayne raises an eyebrow when Eddie relays the conversation. "You're going out in the middle of the night with this girl to… look for bugs."
Eddie crosses his arms over his chest. "I swear."
"Be honest with me, kid."
"I am!"
Wayne swirls his coke can around in his hand as he thinks, a reluctance evident in his scowl. Eddie knows he's way too old for a guardian's oversight like this but he lets Wayne have a say because Wayne loves him, and Eddie doesn't ever want to put his old man through the turmoil he went through when he ran away. If that means a curfew in his twenties, Eddie's okay with that.
"If you're going to have sex with this girl, I'd prefer you did it here. You have to treat women with respect."
Eddie shivers, full body. "Wayne," he groans, covering his face. He can feel his cheeks pink under his palms, that's how quickly his embarrassment rises.
"I know you're more responsible these days, and you're a grown up. If you want a girlfriend and you want to do adult things with her-"
"Jesus Christ."
"- then that's alright. You don't have to fool around outside."
He drags his hands down on his face, pained. "It's not like that. You met her, you know she's…"
"Strange?"
"Alternative."
"No, you're alternative. She's cooky."
"Don't," he says. He knows his uncle isn't actually being cruel, so he lets it lie and fights for his own cause. "We aren't messing around. She genuinely wants me to go find these bugs with her. And…" He hates himself. "She has her own place, you know? If we were going to-"
Wayne seems stricken by the same mortified embarrassment as Eddie, raising a calloused hand in surrender. "Spare me."
"Thank you," Eddie says, spinning on his heel to hide in the bathroom for a while. It's only when he's sitting on the closed toilet does he realise Wayne hadn't mentioned his more dangerous ailment. For a time, he'd been a normal (debatable) person having a normal (horrifying) conversation with his dad. Not a vampire. Not somebody who ruins everything he touches.
—
"It's so quiet," you whisper.
For you, Eddie thinks.
You're in the forest surrounding the aptly named Forest Hills trailer park, wielding your borrowed torch carefully into the dark. Eddie's following in your footsteps, trying not to smell everything that's on you today and failing.
You smell like a person as everybody does. Over that is your soap, a faint hint of milk and honey that sticks to your skin even after you've washed it away. Over that is your deodorant, 'unscented', and over that is your perfume, which he likes most. It's a mix of smells, some Eddie doesn't know and some he does. There's lavender, though that might be down to the bunch you'd brought for his uncle wrapped in newspaper, and there's something fruity he can't quite put his finger on, all of it wrapped up in a cloying pairing of vanilla and coconut.
"Eddie?"
"What?"
"Are you okay? You're almost as quiet as the trees."
If only you knew the trees aren't quiet.
"I'm alright," he says quickly, catching up to you where you stand a few feet ahead. "What are we looking for?"
Best change the subject. How to explain he'd been smelling the notes of your perfume?
"They rest on tree trunks. You have to be careful, any sudden sound or light will scare them away. But if you flash the torch on them, they shine like oil stains."
He loves when you talk. "Where'd they come from?"
"Place called Snowdon. They're so rare, they think there's only about a thousand alive there."
"Well, how did they get here?"
You laugh under your breath, so quiet he would've missed it if he wasn't enhanced. "I don't know. How do beetles get to different places?"
"They fly?"
A twig crunches under your shoe.
Eddie tips his head to the side, thinking. "If there's only a thousand, how-" He stops, your circle of torch light growing further and further away. "Are you sure that they live here?"
"No, but if they do we'll be the first to find them."
"So they've never found any out here? In- In the midwest?"
"Not yet. Where'd you go?"
He shakes his head in an affectionate disbelief. "Right behind you."
You search in silence for a while. Eddie wishes he could say he was mad, or even mildly annoyed, wishes he had even the slightest regard for his own time, but really he thinks any time with you is time well spent. Especially if it's helping you do something you want to do. Whether you find your rainbow leaf beetle or not, he feels better knowing he's out here with you to keep you safe and in company.
Conversation is sparing. He doesn't mind. Your footsteps fill the sound and he finds even that stupid detail charming, the crunch, the pick up. His own are silent, a rare advantage to his terrible affliction.
"Any other beetles you want me to keep an eye out for?" he whispers.
"I'm not sure…" You turn to face him, torch pointed at your shoes. Rubber toes touched together, you lean in until you're all he can smell. Perfume. Blood. "If you see any cool spiders, too."
"You have the mason jar?"
"You know I do."
More than you realise, he thinks. The glass clicks in your bag.
There's enough light reflected to see the most minute details of your face. Your nose, the circle of your irises but not their colour. He suspects Eddie from early '86 wouldn't have been able to see hide nor hair, and it wouldn't shock him if you were technically blind right now.
"Thanks for coming out with me. I was gonna ask you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, but I didn't want to come on too strong." He can sense your smile even though he can't see it. It's in the way your breathing deepens. "I know I can be a lot to deal with."
"Who told you that?"
"What?"
Eddie doubles down.. "Who told you that?" he sounds heartbroken.
He kind of is. Yeah, you're weird — Who cares? Who isn't? — but you're not a lot to deal with. He doesn't 'deal' with you.
"Everybody tells me that. All the time."
"Everybody's stupid." To say it so loudly, scathingly, is sweet. It's therapeutic. "They are. This whole town is stupid."
Your fingertips touch his thigh. He's willing you to turn the torch up and see his face, because he has a lot of feelings on display that he isn't brave enough to say out loud.
"You never make me feel stupid," you say softly.
"You're not."
You giggle breathily at his vehemence, fingertips pressing in with a touch more pressure before you pull away and shine the torch deep into the trees.
"This whole town is stupid," you mumble. "But not you."
He thinks of his friends who are definitely stupid, but he loves anyways. He's about to add them to the not-stupid (subjectively) list when he remembers Steve's discovery: your earring burning a hole in his pocket. He'd been carrying it for long enough now to forget all about it.
"Hey, I have something for you."
"You do?"
"Don't get too excited. It's not a gift."
He digs in his pocket for the tissue paper wrapping and hisses in shock as the silver plating of your hoop graces his index finger. You shine the torch at him. His eyes ache like he's been stabbed and he slams them closed, hand pulled to his chest.
How embarrassing.
"Eddie, what happened?" you question loudly.
He winces at the sudden overstimulation. Slowly, he blinks, and finds you staring at him in a worry that softens every feature, even your nose. He doesn't know the logistics.
"It's okay. Stabbed a paper cut on the back. Your earring's in my pocket, the heart?"
"The hoop? I thought I lost it." Your worry turns to confusion and then melds into joy. You step forward and fish in his jacket pocket for your earring.
"Steve found it."
"'The hair'?"
"Yeah, the hair."
You both laugh and yours heightens when you find the earring, pulling it out like a knife to be brandished. "Yes."
"I meant to tell you a dozen times that I had it."
"You're the best."
There's a crunch of wood somewhere to the left like something heavy falling over.
The forest sprawls in every direction and the trees tower, their presence looming as skyscrapers. The wind ruffles the topmost branches and their trunks groan with pressure. It's enough to freak Eddie out super sense or not, feeling suddenly like he couldn't protect you. He could hear the individual droplets of drool dripping from a lynx's bloody maw, and he can sense each twig underfoot before he takes his next step, but none of that is going to keep you safe in the face of real danger.
"Maybe we should head back," he says tentatively.
"Okay. Do you want to come over?"
His breath catches. "You want me to?"
"Yeah, we can watch movies, I have leftover pasta."
That sounds more like what he should've been thinking. "I don't wanna keep you up."
"What kind of pasta?" he asks.
The torch flickers. "With the tiny tomatoes. You'll like it, super creamy."
"How do you know?"
"You like Alfredo," you say astutely, hitting the torch into the palm of your hand. It flashes weakly, the shadow of the trees flickering and so dark they're violet.
"Try tightening the handle."
You turn the barrel of the torch and the light switches off completely. You try to undo what you've done to no success, the sound of plastic rubbing plastic almost as loud as your heartbeat. Your pulse falters and then grows to racing when the light fails to come back on.
"Eddie," you say, sounding unsure. It's a new sound on you. "I don't know where we are. How are we gonna get home?"
Your admission is like a dousing of ice water over his head. "You don't know what direction we came from?"
"No, do you?"
Eddie wouldn't know if he couldn't hear the sound of the electricity pylon buzzing somewhere to the right. But how can he explain that? "Uh, we were turned around."
You creep to his side and grab his arm with both hands. "Are you sure?"
"Hey," he says gently. "Hey, it's okay. I know where we are. We'll be fine."
"Are you sure?" you ask again.
"I'm positive."
You take a deep breath that doesn't erase your shakiness, a failed attempt at self-soothing. "I really don't know where we are."
"You're not afraid of the dark, are you?"
"Not really… I don't wanna get lost out here."
"You won't. I know how to get back. C'mon," he prompts, pulling his arm to encourage you forward.
You let go of him and navigate a few steps by yourself. He weaves through the trees, waiting for your heartbeat to slow.
It doesn't. He opens his mouth to reassure you again when you gasp, kicking your foot against a root and tripping. You barely fall, catching yourself on the trunk of a tree, and Eddie remembers himself. You can't see the trees. That's why you're worried. You can't see anything.
Then the smell of blood hits him like a freight train.
—
Your hand stings where you caught yourself, palm scraped down against harsh bark.
"Shit," you mumble.
You're panicking badly, and you're confused as to why Eddie isn't. Not only was it fucking stupid of you to come out here with only one torch, it was stupid of you to assume you'd remember what way was home. It was stupid of you to come here tonight for that stupid beetle, and stupid of you to drag Eddie along. You're an idiot, and now you're bleeding.
Your eyes sting with tears, pain like a popped seal. I'm so stupid.
"Hey," Eddie says, his tone silky soft, "you're okay. Let me help you up."
You hold your hands out.
"Eddie, this is weird." Hopefully he understands that weird means scary.
He takes your hands, fingers closing slowly over your bloody palm. His breath is loud as he pulls you up toward him like he's panicked but his grip stays kind, and you abandon the notion when he rubs over your knuckles with his thumb. "It's alright."
He doesn't sound the same.
"Eddie, we can't see."
"We'll go slowly, okay? I'll put my hand out and we'll walk around anything that gets in the way."
"Yeah," you say hurriedly, heart bump-bump-bumping against your ribcage.
He keeps one hand, the injured one, and starts to drag you slowly through the trees. His grip tightens as you go until it starts to ache, until it feels like it might bruise.
"Ouch, Eds. You're hurting me," you say, going for a lightly teasing tone and missing the mark.
Instantly, he eases off. "Sorry, sweetheart. You hold onto me, alright?"
You do as he'd asked, hand clinging to him as he leads. He doesn't squeeze you again, walking slowly as he'd promised, and the closer you get to the edge of the forest the clearer it becomes. Light pollution from the centre of town leaches through the trees like water trickling from an overflowing basin.
His second hand is in his pocket.
"Here," he says after you've traversed to the very edge of the forest. "There's the park. We're bona fide explorers."
He looks out toward the park and you look at the side of his face. Something isn't right. Something uncanny.
You drop your gaze from his face to your joined hands. They come apart, blood smeared in both your palms like two halves of a dripping heart.
—
There is something weird about Eddie. As a residential freak of Hawkins you think you're an authority in this, and you don't feel guilty for judging him. Your brain can't stop going over your night in the forest. For days you play the scenes back and for days you lose the details. You forget how the wind had tousled his hair, how he'd smelled, what he'd said.
You remember the way he'd squeezed your bloody hand. You remember the way he'd spoken, strained.
Not strained like he didn't want to comfort you, he had, but strained.
Restrained.
You're poking at the shallow cut half-healed now in your palm at work when a dude walks in, very tall, handsome, and gunning straight for you.
You straighten your badge and hide your bracelet heavy wrists behind your back, receding slightly as he approaches. He slows in front of you.
You have a light bulb moment.
"The hair," you say.
He scowls. "He told you that, huh. Typical."
"You're Steve?"
"That's me." Steve crosses his arms across his chest, his back to a booth, your back to the diner bar. "You're Eddie's new friend."
"What counts as new?" A month and a half doesn't feel so new to you.
"Trust me, you're new."
He has the strangest patch covering the outside of his left wrist, the same peculiar scarring that you can see on Eddie's waist when he reaches for a glass out of the kitchen cabinet. You don't ask because you're not a dick no matter how curious you find yourself, but it makes your heart skip. What is that? You'd assumed Eddie's was road rash. Now you're not so sure.
He tucks it under his arm.
You meet his suspicious gaze.
"You want coffee?"
"No."
You kick your foot, shoe sliding over the shiny waxed floor with a squeal. "Is Eddie okay?"
"Did you want to come to a party next Friday?"
"No," you say honestly. "Like a cult?"
"What?"
"Are you initiating me into your cult?"
He finally smiles, eyes creased with amusement. "I'm inviting you to our club."
"Club where you chew on each other?"
You look pointedly at Steve's wrist.
"No. Club where we play board games and drink jiffy pop. Come or don't, doesn't matter."
"If it doesn't matter, why are you asking me?"
It's a strangely intense conversation to have this early in the morning. Patrons chatter about work, coffee gets poured. The diner smells of syrup and sugar and bitter cold-press. You're both in work apparel, both refusing to move back. If this is some kind of shovel talk then that's fine, and if it's a test you're determined to pass, even if Eddie's been super weird lately.
"I'll come if you promise not to eat me," you say.
"It's really not that kind of club."
—
"I had the weirdest visit in the entire world today," you declare, stopping in front of Eddie's porch with a smile.
"Yeah?" he asks without looking up, guitar in his lap and pen scribbling over a lined notebook.
You wait for him to stop before you continue, leaning forward with both arms braced on the porch by his feet. "Steve Harrington came to see me, and he was super mean. You said he was nice."
He frowns at you. "I told you he was a dick."
"You like him when you tell me stories."
"How mean?" Eddie asks, patting the seat beside him.
You climb up onto the porch and plop down onto the couch, worn leather cold with the weather and damp in the seams.
You take a strand of his hair and curl it around your finger. "Not really super mean, but he was, like, acting like I killed a baby."
"He's like that."
You sigh and lean your cheek against the couch cushion, watching Eddie's stubble move as he tamps down a teasing smile. "He invited me to a party next weekr."
"It's not a party- Sweetheart, what are you doing?"
You tickle his cheek with the end of his hair. "Nothing."
"M'gonna sneeze."
You tickle him again, fine dark strands brushing over his pale cheek. He's a very ashen guy, you've found. Likely because he barely goes out in the sun and he doesn't eat enough. You draw circles around the apple of his cheek and grin softly at his growing smile, a sweet, silly thing.
"I'll tickle you back," he warns.
"Promise?"
He steals the curl back and tucks it behind his ear.
"You're not a cannibal, are you?"
Eddie chokes on air. You startle at his coughing and move to pat his back, palm slapping a steady rhythm into his shoulder. When he calms down you run your hand down the length of his arm, long sleeve t-shirt soft beneath your touch. You linger at his wrist and decide to hold it.
He drops his pen and your hand travels until he's caught your thumb. He kneads it in his fingers.
"I'm not a cannibal. Why would you think that?"
"I don't, but you and Steve are in your club, right?"
"Hellfire wasn't like that," he says heatedly.
"No, not- Not that one."
He doesn't say anything.
"You have… He has this scar, on his wrist. Like something bit him, or-" He turns to you and he looks formidable and upset and himself, not mad at you but raw emotion in his expression anyhow. It's gone as quick as it came.
"When all that… stuff happened," he begins quietly, "we got hurt. A couple of us."
You drop your head, ashamed at having pried. "I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me anything else."
"Don't be sorry…" He squeezes your hand and lets it go. "Don't worry about it."
"Okay."
"We usually call ourselves a party, these days. Not a club."
"Do you really play board games and drink jiffy pop?"
"Sometimes we get really crazy and order a pizza. You should come."
You realise as he says it how much his wanting you to go had mattered to you. Eddie's your friend, and you don't think that you're going to stay friends much longer.
"You think your friends will like me?" you ask, voice descending to a new kind of gentle.
He puts down his guitar and his notebook. His full attention is something you've come to really enjoy, not because of the hunger you often see flitting across his face — though that's neat —, but because of the inklings of adoration clinging to his smile when he looks at you. His blinking lashes. He smiles at you and just slows. A usually frenetic boy calmed.
"Maybe not Mike. Mike doesn't like anybody. Except for Will," he muses.
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Who do you like?"
"I like all of them." He juts his cheek toward his shoulder, conceding, " I think Dustin's my favourite. He's funny. He's funnier than I am, and he's the smartest kid I've ever met. And he knows it."
Your eyes focus on the pink outline of his upper lip as he speaks. It's a pleasure to be this close, and see him in this kind of crazy detail. When you go home tonight you might try to draw him. You'll probably forget.
It's the kind of smile that deserves to be immortalised.
"I really like your smile," you tell him, hoping it'll last a little longer.
It stretches. The pink outline turns white. "Shut up."
"I do. I've seen a thousand different smiles but I've never met someone who smiles like you do."
"How's that?" he asks, edging toward you, face a mirror in which you can see your own charmed expression.
"Like you," — you shake your head with your lips parted — "know a secret. Something you won't tell anybody."
His smile abruptly ends.
You've nothing if not a talent for saying the wrong thing.
"A good secret," you amend.
He picks up his acoustic and gives it an experimental strum. "Maybe one or two," he agrees.
Relief catches you. You nibble at the inside of your lip and watch his fingers work over the neck of his guitar, tipping your head so you can read the words he's markered over the body.
"This machine slays dragons," you murmur to yourself. "Yeah? How many?"
"Just the one."
"Save any princesses?"
"Not yet." He plucks at the strings, lost in thought, before turning to you with eyebrows raised. "Can you play?"
You exhale out of the corner of your mouth as he pushes the guitar into your lap, an arm coming around your shoulder, the other reaching to guide your curled forefinger to the strings. You turn to face him, watching him talk with a growing fondness.
"It's easy, I swear. We'll do Call Me. Blondie's basic, even a baby could play it."
He realises you aren't listening and raises his gaze, shiny brown irises stuck on your lips. This close, it would be worse if he didn't look at them.
You glance at his, an obvious thing, half a wish. If he only lifted his chin.
Your breath mingles.
"It's easy," he says again, a murmur of his usual volume as his gaze pulls back up to yours. "I'll show you."
You wonder if he can hear your heart pounding; it's deafening. You wait, and you wait, and you turn your eyes back to his guitar and clamp your fingers down against the struts so he can't see them shaking with adrenaline.
—
Eddie sits beside Steve and tries not to admit to himself that Steve Harrington is, horrifyingly, his best friend (along with the rest of the party, obviously). Steve is the closest in age and Eddie can't make excuses (though he tries and tries and tries), Steve understands how much Eddie doesn't ever want to talk about anything that's happened to them, so he talks about literally everything else instead.
"It was the weirdest pawn shop I've ever been in. They had, like, a wall of combi's playing the same video at the same time but all slightly delayed."
Eddie blinks.
Steve turns his head from the TV, having expected a response. "Did you say something?"
"No." Then, because he's not a dick. "Sorry, Harrington. Want me to sit on your other side?"
"What for?" Steve says. Not because he denies how he's hard of hearing, but because he denies having conversations with Eddie.
He does end up moving to Steve's other side with a pathetic excuse. "I can't see the TV."
Steve doesn't say a word until he's sat down again. "Sorry I was mean to your girlfriend."
"Yeah, what was that about?"
"I was cranky because it was early and I don't want her to damage the integrity of the party." He gives equal weight to both reasons.
Eddie snorts at him. "Since when do you care about the integrity of the party?" Steve barely acknowledges that they are a party. He thinks that's a very nerdy way to say friends.
"Since always, dipshit."
"And inviting her to join the party was the solution because…?"
Steve drinks the rest of his coke and pretends to really care about what's on TV. "If," he begins after a minute, refusing to look at Eddie, "something happens with her, and something happens to you, that damages the integrity of the party."
"Steve," Eddie says, jaw dropped down to his chest, "do you have a crush on me?"
"Oh my god," Steve mutters. "Oh my god," he says louder. "I can't stand you."
To prove his point, he gets up from the couch with a wrinkled nose, stops to tap his shoe gently against Max's where she's sitting in the armchair across from the coffee table, and disappears into his kitchen.
Steve Harrington cares about me enough to give Y/N the shovel talk.
He feels kind of great about it.
But he's not sure your the one who needs warning.
That night in the forest, Eddie had almost snapped. There are rules to follow if he wants to keep people safe, self-imposed, Hopper-imposed, and he's broken too many with you already, the most important being no close proximity when he's hungry. Eddie doesn't even realise he is hungry half the time. He'll be standing by you and he'll want to touch you, and suddenly it's like he's three weeks in to the month without sating.
He thinks about kissing you and suddenly he's thinking about biting you, and hurting you, and it's literally tearing him up from the inside out.
How can he want to do that to you?
"You look so depressed and pathetic," Dustin says out of the blue.
Eddie pouts and falls back into the couch, Steve's fancy throw falling onto his shoulder. "I used to like you," he says, taking in Dustin's outfit with a kind of parental approval. He's getting older and it shows, slightly more handsome than he had been — he's kept all his baby weight and it suits him, his full cheeks surrounded by the softest brown curls Eddie has ever seen. The outfit stays immature, a funny t-shirt and ill-fitting pants.
"Sad. You have a sad face," Dustin says.
"Go play with your nerd squad, please."
He doesn't listen, collapsing in Steve's still-warm seat like a cheap tent and crossing longer, thicker arms over his chest. He smiles at Eddie genuinely. "Where's your girlfriend?"
"No."
"Where's Y/N?"
Eddie tips his head so he can see past the coffee table and points to where you're almost hidden, sitting with Robin on the floor by Steve's sideboard. You have a basket of tapes in front of you, the two of you trying to choose what's going in the stereo. Eddie prays for anything but Blondie.
You will most likely choose Blondie.
"What does she like?" Dustin asks curiously.
"Everything, kind of. Why?"
"I wanna know what to say when I talk to her."
Eddie smiles at his friend's face, a soft, surprised thing. "I don't know if she knows anything about the radio but if you're happy about it she'll be happy too. She's a good listener."
Dustin picks at a piece of lint on his t-shirt bearing a white and black print of a dog wearing sunglasses. "So you talk to her?" he asks without looking up.
"I mean, yeah. What else do you do?"
"With a girl that likes you? Huh, let me think." Dustin laughs and ruins his own sarcasm, pointer finger laid against his chin in a show of thoughtfulness.
"It's not like that," Eddie says lightly.
"It could be."
"Could it? I mean… I don't even know if she'll stick around. And I feel bad 'cos I can't be honest with her."
"Why not?"
"Hopper said he would literally put me in the hole if I even thought about it." There's no need to expand. Dustin would know better than anyone what he's talking about.
He cringes at the thought, self hatred a hot poker down his throat. He must've said it to Dustin a hundred times when he finally came around from his coma (that wasn't a coma, but a death, and then a rebirth). I can't believe I put you through that. I can't believe I put you through that. I'm so sorry.
I'm just glad you're alive, Eddie.
And for a while, Eddie hadn't felt the same. The world he'd woken up to was hard. There had been lawyers and grief and guilt and becoming. He doesn't have the words to describe how it feels to become something new, something that needs to hurt people to live, something that will hurt people to live, whether Eddie wants to or not.
The loss of choice is suffocating.
Though moments like this with his friends– they don't make it 'worth it', they're just how it had to happen. There isn't a scenario where Eddie could give up. He can't leave Wayne, and he can't leave Dustin. He can live with the grief of what he is if it means other people don't have to live with grief of what he isn't.
"Eddie, are you okay?"
He's missed something. Dustin isn't the only one looking at him.
He curls a hand around his forearm subconsciously. "I'm fine. I think I'm gonna go to the bathroom, actually. Gotta piss real bad."
"Eddie-"
"I'm fine, Henderson." He puts on a good show, patting Dustin's arm. His heart, usually so slow these days, has enough life in it to ache.
He can't have been in the bathroom for five minutes when somebody knocks on the door aggressively. He's expecting Steve, pissed at his disappearance and likely preparing a speech on attention seeking behaviours and how they're hurting the youth of America, so he opens the door with a tired glare.
He finds you, beaming and pretty, dressed ridiculously nicely for his idiot friends.
"Hi," you say. He can hear something from Blondie's Parallel Lines playing from the living room, familiar because it's your favourite album. "Any room for me?"
Eddie moves back. You close the door behind you. The bathroom becomes a vacuum of your sounds and smells.
"They didn't have any Dio," you say with a smile.
"I honestly wouldn't expect any different."
"You could've brought some tapes, your mix from the van," you suggest. "I love that one."
"Which one?" he asks, and he can't help it, whenever he's with you his voice crops to a dulcet murmur. The urge to speak to you as you speak to him is unconquerable.
"One with the winking smile on the slipcase. I really like it."
"You can have it."
You lean against the sink. "I can?"
"Mm. Whatever you want." Especially when you look like this.
You smile at him, your 'thank you' smile, all sticky fondness and mischievousness. He has no idea what you're thinking.
"'S a small bathroom in a huge house," you marvel. Your voice echoes "Where does he shower?"
"There's an upstairs bathroom."
"Two bathrooms? That's-"
"Audacious?"
"I was gonna say overkill."
Your candidness has him shaking with laughter. He clutches at his sides, arms crossed and leaning forward. You visibly take in his appearance, eyes panning slowly over his clean hair. He'd taken care to look like somebody you might want to look at tonight.
"Why don't you sit down, Eds?" you ask, eyes creased with an unreadable emotion.
Eddie feels blindly for the toilet lid and pushes it down so he can do as you ask, wondering why you're asking.
"You look very handsome today."
He hugs himself. "As opposed to every other day, when I don't?"
You take a step forward, a second, hands playing with the hem of your shirt. Your outfit today is delightfully simple, a pressed black t-shirt long enough to cover the waistband of your pleated skirt. There's an expanse of thigh that makes his heart beat spin out, one longer than the other where your thigh-high is falling down.
He wants to pull it up.
"C'mere," he says.
You take that last step between his shoes and he reaches out, getting his fingertips under the elastic of your sock and tugging it upward over the soft fat of your leg. Your hands come up to his shoulders for balance, and you say, "No, you look handsome every day. Today you look very handsome. I made the distinction."
He covers your thigh with both hands, looking up into your face as you look down. "You look really pretty today," he says boldly, fingers spreading behind your knee.
"Thank you. Do you like my t-shirt?"
It's a screen print of Debbie Harry. Eddie tries not to roll his eyes. "I love it, but your dedication to Blondie is seriously worrying, sweetheart." He gives your leg a short squeeze and pulls the most giggly smile out of you yet.
"Like Madonna."
"No!" he bemoans.
You laugh and grow closer, arms on his shoulder, a hand threaded into his hair. "Cyndi Lauper?" you suggest.
He puts a hand on your waist as you move in for a hug. Your arms wrap around his neck and the tops of his shoulders, cheek crushed to the top of his head.
He'd ask if you were okay if he thought you weren't. You're not upset or seeking comfort. You're affectionate. You've been getting more and more touchy for weeks, as he has. Stolen touches, your almost-kiss on the porch last week.
"No, not Cyndi Lauper," he says, his hand skirting around your back to pull you in properly.
"R.E.M?"
"God, no. Where are you hearing all this junk?"
"The radio."
"Tuned into the wrong station."
You pet the back of his head. "Yeah," you say softly, "I think I was."
The hug is shorter than Eddie wants it to be. You make one of your happy sounds and pull away to get your hands on his face, stroking curls from his cheeks with a protective touch. "Handsome," you say, turning your hand to stroke his cheek with your knuckles. "Pretty. You have really big eyes, Eddie, so brown, and so…" You tilt your head to one side, face inching forward.
He turns his face to suit, to fit, breath held as you close the gap.
"So pretty," you murmur, and kiss him.
His hands are limp and then alive, one clutching your hip, one splaying against your chest. He can hear the thud of your heart clear as day — you're bumping with excitement as you kiss him. It's a delicate, tender thing, the party suddenly far away, the music drowned by the sounds of your breathing. You kiss as you talk, as you move, gentle but with bursts of ardency. Your lips are a blissful heat, the tip of your nose smushing into his as you part your lips over his.
He lifts his chin higher, his neck craned to receive you. He's savouring every movement. Each pause for breath that you take. The feeling of your inhales over his quick-bruising lips.
Your hands play in his hair so sweetly it makes his eyes burn with an embarrassing amount of emotion. He screws them closed and squeezes up your waist, steadying himself as you feel along his bottom lip with the tip of your tongue.
You don't get much further than that, seemingly pleased with your own brazeness or perhaps his touch, eyes glowing with mirth as you pull away.
"Sorry," you breathe, not sorry at all. "You just really looked like someone should be kissing you."
You're flushed. Eddie can practically see the heat emanating off of your cheeks. He can feel it.
He stands up, your pulse a ringing in his ears. The wet valves of your heart opening and closing.
"Eddie?" you ask quietly, lifting your head to meet his eyes as he walks you back into the door.
His gums sting. A click.
It's a compulsion.
His hands curl around your elbows, holding you in place. Your eyes are wide with confusion, your lightly swollen lips parted. He can see the tiniest slip of your pink tongue.
He holds your gaze as he leans in. Your eyelids flutter closed. You wrap your arms around him as he descends, totally trusting.
He's a meaner kiss than you are. He starts slow but swiftly loses a handle on it, kisses short but insistent, hot presses like little crescent moons against your barely open mouth.
His hands move up your arms, a near vice-like grip until he finds your sleeves. His fingers slip underneath, hands hungry for your warmth.
You make the worst sound anyone has ever made as he moves back, like something has been ripped from you. A gutted gasp, near silent.
He placates as he wades back in. Thumbs rubbing your arms, lips mouthing damp kisses down your face. The corner of your pout, the hill of your chin, the skin under your jaw. Your head tips back against the door with an audible thud. You exhale hard.
Eddie can't feel his hands.
Your pulse hammers under his lips. He kisses it once. He can't think. He can't breathe.
"You're always cold," you whisper, your hands drifting lazily under the fabric of his t-shirt. Your fingertips trail up his spine. "But your lips are warm."
He kisses your neck, his lips parting slowly, a hair's width a second as he sucks your skin into his mouth gently. It's barely a kiss. He does it a second time. A third. You start to laugh, a golden sound.
The point of his fangs touch your skin and you stop.
Eddie closes his mouth abruptly. His hand leaps to your neck and he feels your heart skip as he holds you still. "I'm sorry," he says, nose rubbing over the damp spot he's left behind, your teased skin.
Your heart hikes again.
"I'm sorry," he repeats. He pulls away, an agony.
"It's okay," you say. Your breathlessness says otherwise.
Eddie takes as many deep breaths as he can stand, wanting to clear his head and filling it with you instead. Your everything; your smell, your skin. Your limp hands against his back.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asks when he gets a look at you, your unreadable expression. He takes care to keep his head angled down so you can't see the lower half of his face.
"I don't think you could."
You cup his cheek in your hand and he leans into it, his weight against yours.
"I wanted to tell you something," you confess.
"What-" He licks his lips, wincing when his fangs slide into his tongue and scrape grooves across his taste buds. "What was that?"
"I know you…" You pause, fingertips rubbing at his cheek.
Does she know? Eddie thinks, horrified. He hadn't realised how scary waiting could be. A thousand worries condensed into a handful of seconds. Does she know?
How could she not?
You press your palm to his cheek with more insistence. "I don't want you to think you have to hide anything from me. I know you have scars," you say, fingers sliding into the soft baby hair at the back of his neck. "You don't have to cover up. You don't have to cover any of it."
"I won't hurt you," he says, trying to convince himself.
"I know."
-
You stay a while longer. Eddie's friends pretend that you hadn't been alone in the bathroom for an inordinate amount of time together. You thank them all silently and less so, trying to talk to as many of them as you can.
There's Lucas, who's really, really nice, and his girlfriend Max, who's less so. She gives you an unimpressed look through her thick-lensed glasses, but you compliment her crutches and she comes around.
There's Mike, who actually isn't anywhere as bad as Eddie had described him. He's not frosty or standoffish, he's sweet and he asks questions. There's a girl with him that you don't catch the name of, and a boy on her other side.
There's Dustin, who you adore immediately, Robin, who you adore more, and then there's Steve.
Steve offers you a pretzel like you're more than familiar. He strolls right up to you with a bowl of them in hand and doesn't leave until you've eaten half of them.
There's a couple of people you don't manage to talk to at all, and you feel guilty about it all the way home.
"What if they think I'm rude?" you ask, tired eyes locking onto the stereo system. The time blinks analog in the dark, 12:59AM.
"They don't, don't worry about it. You have lots of time to get to know them, anyway."
You hum and turn to his face, indulgent because you know he can't look back. "You're not too tired to drive, are you?" He's spent. Yesterday had been one of his bad days.
"I'm fine."
"You say that all the time," you observe, dropping your cheek into the passenger seat's headrest.
"I'm fine all the time."
"Liar."
"Nuisance."
You huff a laugh through your nose. The strands of his friendship bracelet, the small beads at the ends, swing like pendulums in the gap between his arm and the steering wheel. You can see the rough skin of a scar creeping out from under his sleeve.
"Mike was really nice," you say.
"He has a bleeding heart."
That feels accurate. "He reminds me of you."
Eddie rolls his eyes. You feel for every detail, the strange tension between you like a gaussian filter over everything. He's gorgeous in a horrific way, heartbreakingly pale, eyes dark as pitch, hands restless. They squeeze alone the wheel, thick fingers curling tight until his knuckles are stark white. Running down the back of his hands are veins like rivers. They're more purple than green.
"Eddie," you say, playful, a tiny bit insecure.
"What?"
"Wanna stay the night?"
His hand moves forward on the wheel like he's revving a motorcycle, the tendon in his wrist rising to the surface. He clenches. "Not sure it's a good idea."
"Just to sleep. It's late."
"I don't know if I can sleep next to you."
You don't wanna say please. You don't want to ask Eddie to do anything he can't or doesn't wanna do.
He pulls up outside of your house with his mind already made up. He gets out of the car and you follow his lead. He locks it, shoves the keys in his pocket as you join him on the path up to your porch.
He's been in here enough times to know what it looks like, but for some reason you find yourself checking his face, worried about what it is he thinks of your things, all your mismatched trinkets, your stained glass lamps, your life as you let yourselves in. He ducks through the beeded curtain into your bedroom wary that they'll get tangled in his hair like they sometimes do.
"Do you wanna call Wayne?" you ask, gesturing to your telephone on the right hand side, nestled between a stack of books and a cup full of coloured pencils.
You pull your knee up to your chest and unlace your shoes one at a time. Eddie punches the number into the phone and holds the receiver to his shoulder to do as you're doing. It takes him less time to pop his sneakers off than for you to get out of yours. He's just taken the phone back into his hand when Wayne picks up.
"Wayne?" he asks softly. "Didn't wake you up, did I?"
You can't hear his response.
"I'm gonna stay with Y/N tonight. Yeah, we had a good time. Yeah…" His eyes drift to you as you peel out of your thigh highs.
"Yeah, I'm still here. What?" He meets your eyes and it feels accidental, because he throws his eyes to your bedsheets and turns his face to the wall. "No," he says firmly.
You scrape together something to wear for bed and some fresh underwear and leave for the bathroom, telling yourself that nothing is gonna happen so don't get your hopes up but not wanting to get caught out if it does. You freshen up, brushing your teeth and washing your face.
You stare at yourself in the mirror and wonder if you should've left your face-powder and your mascara on. Maybe even the skirt. You'd looked nice and pretty for the party. Now you look like yourself, still pretty but without those extra touches. Will he care? Does it matter?
You debate your pyjama pants considerably.
There's a lot happening.
Eddie is… Eddie is something else. He's different, you'd known that for a long time, and his kiss had confirmed it.
He's something out of a science fiction book.
Well, nobody's perfect.
Whatever he is, he'd kissed you. You'd kissed him and he'd responded, he'd come back for more, and now he's sitting in your bed when he could've gone home. You bring your hand to your neck and crane to one side, fingertips poking at your unbroken skin. His hickey's haven't even bruised.
You screw the pants up and drop them into your laundry basket. You take off every piece of jewellery on your person.
"Do you wanna use the bathroom?" you ask from behind the beaded curtain. "I left a new toothbrush for you on the sink."
"Yeah, desperately, I…" He takes you in as you emerge. Fresh-faced, bare-legged. As naked as you've ever been in front of him, physically and otherwise.
Eddie meets you where you're standing. He's ditched his jacket, and for the first time since you met him you can see the full length of his arms.
"You're not wearing your bracelets," he says, looking between your bodies. His hand twitches toward yours.
"You have tattoos," you say.
"They were better, before."
There's a misshapen mess of black splodges near the crook of his elbow broken up by scar tissue. One arm is less scarred than the other, an almost perfect flank of white skin.
"Is that a puppet? He's super spooky."
"Mh-hm."
You bring your hand to his tattoo and feel over the skin. It doesn't feel like it's there. Eddie holds your wrist and the two of you move together, your fingertips stroking up until you're wrapped around his bicep.
Eddie brings his free hand to your collar. His index finger straightens, encouraging your chin up so he can ease forward and kiss you. He's firm, eager, and your lips curl up into a smile underneath it. He turns his head to the right and you fall left, smile worsened when you feel his own start to form.
He nudges your nose. You take it for a telling off and laugh. "Sorry," you apologise, kissing his top lip.
"You're making this difficult," he chides.
Despite any sternness, Eddie loosens his grip on your wrists to slide his fingers between yours, pressing your joined hands to your chest. He leans back down and he's careful, almost methodical in the way he kisses. Chaste pecks, hot and precious as tiny stars.
You reach for his waist.
Eddie kisses you a final time and steps back. "I'll be back," he promises.
You lower your chin, flustered and perplexed by his sudden departure.
Walking around to the right side of the bed, you click on your bedside lamp — a beautiful glass and foiled contraption that throws dainty stripes of stars and hearts over everything close in the dark — before climbing in. You sniff one of your pillows experimentally, trying to remember when you last changed the bed. You decide they're acceptable even if they really smell like your hair oil and flip them around to be safe, plumping them up with your hands.
You've curled up on your side and almost succumb to your fatigue when Eddie returns, bringing with him the smell of spearmint and a fuzzy feeling in your stomach as he shuts off the light and sits on the opposite side of the bed, facing you. The hair around his face is damp with water, baby hair's limp.
"I'm sorry I don't have anything for you to wear, I-" Youre cut off by your own gasp as Eddie kisses you, his hand on your neck, his nose bridge sliding into your own. You hadn't been expecting it, and it's no less dizzying than any other kiss he's given you today.
"It's okay," he murmurs lowly, lips pressed to your lips, "have to wear you, is all."
You huff a laugh into his mouth. "I swear I'm always laughing when I'm with you," you muse as Eddie dedicates himself to your bottom lip. You cup the back of his head. "You're amazing."
Eddie groans and eases back. "I'm not good with words, sweetheart. To tell you how I feel about you."
You push one of your legs toward his knee. "...You can show me."
He shifts in the bed until he can lean over the entirety of your chest, hands cupping your face and lips poised hovering over your own, a millimetre of space between your mouth and his. "Okay," he says quietly.
He dips down. You can feel his bottom lip tremble, and then he's kissing you too hard to feel it anymore. You wrap loose arms around his back.
"Are you sure?" you whisper to him.
He rests his nose against your cheek, eyes closed, drawing the tiniest left to right. "I want you," he reassures.
"And you're okay?"
"Yeah, sweetheart. I'm okay. Do you want to?"
"Yeah. More than anything."
Another loving kiss against your cheek, Eddie moves down, down, down. "Tell me if I do something you don't like," he murmurs, top lip dragging and leaving a line of dampness to the base of your throat.
He adorns the canvas of your neck in half-moon contusions, big hands caressing your shoulders, your chest. You hold your breath as his fingers pass over your nipple, fighting to keep in any embarrassing sounds.
Eddie disagrees with his plan of action. You shiver as he brings his lips to a close and his bottom teeth scrape upward, as he pulls his head up and says, "C'mon, angel, breathe."
He follows his command with a manipulative touch, a circle over your nipple that makes you shudder. He kisses you and it feels like a thank you, pressure, a heat as his palm smooths over the bump of your tummy to your thighs. He squeezes the outside of one and for a while you can kiss him back, and then he pulls your thighs apart and you break away. Eddie follows, kisses you even when your reciprocation is weak.
He pushes your thigh flat to the bed.
You feel the heat of your excitement start to grow. Your stomach aches with the want to be touched.
"You're like a space heater, you're that warm," Eddie says, hand coasting down the inside of your thigh. He squeezes until fat melds under his fingers. "Are you scared?"
His whispering in your ear, his hand as close as it is to where you want it, it winds you up like a coil. You sigh as his thumb strokes the edge of your panties, sound coloured by an awful, devouring desire.
His face presses further into yours in reaction.
His touch is like the tide. He wades in, away. His thumb strokes inward over something soft and then his whole hand moves back to your thigh.
"Teasing," you utter.
"A little… Why, is there something you want me to do?"
His clueless whispering is infuriating and exciting at the same time. Your heart races and you can't discern if it's more lust or love.
"Touch me," you plead, pouting, knowing he's a pushover.
Anticipation stabs like a needle in your tummy as he slides his palm over your cunt completely. He rubs a careful, almost casual rhythm into your panties with the breadth of his fingers, lips kissing a lazy stripe up to your forehead, where he rests his face. You both watch his hand move past the valley of your rising chest.
"M'gonna pull these off, yeah?" He sits up, fingers pushing under the sides. "Lift your- yeah, thank you, sweetheart."
You buzz with his pet names, his soft voice, the feeling of your panties sliding up to your knees and his gentle exhale. You swear you can feel it fan over your slit. "Shit…" he moan, pulling at your spread cunt.
He looks like he's in pain, eyebrows pinched together and murmuring curses as he circles the wetness gathered at your entrance. You turn your head searchingly as he starts to ease his index finger inside your heat, a gentle probing.
One becomes two. He muffles your sighing with firm kisses, amorous praises, "That's it, baby, relax," as he works you open, fingers wet with slickness but not enough. He changes his position, pushing his middle and marriage finger inside and curving as his thumb slides up your slit looking for the bead of your clit.
Slow, slow circles. "There, huh?"
You shiver as he pushes in deeper, fingers as far as they can go. He spreads them wide, drops reassuring kisses all over your face when you keen. It's so new to have him kiss you at all, and to have him touching you — you're melting into nothing right there in his hold.
"I got you. Tell me if it hurts, okay?"
"Want you to- I want you to fuck me," you murmur, arms wrapping around him so you can hide your face in his neck.
"Fuck. Fuck, baby. Gonna fuck you just as soon as I can fit," he murmurs back, sinking three of his thick fingers into your snug cunt. He pulls wetness out with every thrust, a line of slick dribbling down onto the sheets underneath. He wipes it upward and pushes it back inside, his chest heaving. "Y'so tight, gotta take my time. Take our time." He rubs his nose against your head until he can kiss the highest point of your cheek. "Make sure you can take it."
"I can."
It doesn't bear repeating how quietly you're speaking, a mouthing inaudible under the wet, rhythmic thud of Eddie's pinky finger slapping your sticky cunt as he ups the pace of his finger-fucking.
"I don't think so," he coos, pulling his fingers from your cunt and making a show of spreading them wide. Your slick ribbons between them, almost invisible in the dark. "Ruin your sheets before any of that, maybe."
Eddie sits up and gets his hands under your armpits. You laugh as he tugs you up so your shoulders are on top of the pillows, but you don't have time to be confused. He quickly moves to kneel at your feet and pulls your leg over his shoulder, your back lifting unevenly from the sheets.
He starts with a sweet kiss pressed to the skin closest to his mouth, your lower thigh, and then works his way up, open mouthed, barely kisses at all until his hair whispers against your sensitive cunt and he's nipping at the stripe of skin between your thigh and the place where you most want his attention.
"Pretty," he says into your damp skin, lips shining. You reach down to stroke his hair behind his ears, worried he's gonna get it dirty.
He looks at you from between your thighs, his eyes dark in the dim light, their lashes long and soft where the outermost flutter into your skin. He's lovely.
He holds your gaze as he pulls back to your inner thigh. "Pretty everywhere," he says salaciously.
His lips part over your skin and you think he might bite you, a bruising hickey, but he pushes you down flat to the bed by your hips and kisses your clit, a simple kiss. Your fingers weave deeper into his hair. Your fingernails scratch lightly against his scalp, every tiny lick or kiss reflected in the minute tightening of your hands.
He goes slow, mouths down, kisses wetter and wetter as he reaches your entrance. "Poor girl," he murmurs, hands pulled down to further scandalise. He sinks two fingers inside and laughs into your cunt. You squirm.
"What happened? You're dripping on my fingers." Your thighs draw closed around his head as he curls his fingers against a soft spot.
"Eddie, can you-" You swallow. "Please. Please."
He pries your thighs open and rubs them soothingly, lapping at the heat of your cunt in face of your pleading. His tongue appears broad and flat up the centre of you until he's kissing on your clit, fingers pumping in rhythm. Your fingers work into his hair and he groans, the vibration enough to make you whimper under his mouth.
He laps at your clit messily and you tip your head back, breath coming in tight pants. You don't know what you say, only how you say it, desperate "please,"s and keening "Eddie,"s.
His thrusts grow in enthusiasm, fingers rubbing eagerly against something sweet. You pull your legs up and nudge his face to your cunt insistently, thigh shaking as you hold it up. Eddie doesn't need any more encouragement, his pretty pink lips suckling at your clit until you see stars. You make a pained little sound and try to move away from his kissing, startled at the intensity of your high.
Eddie lets your clit pop out of his mouth with a lewd, slick sound, his hands moving under your thighs and pulling you closer. "Good girl," he says, rubbing his wet face against the inside of your thigh. He inhales hard as you are, though he pauses to kiss your kneecap and pat your leg. "Good girl, sweetheart."
"I'm sorry," you say breathlessly, hands pulling his hair from his face. Pleasure rolls through you in hot waves.
"For what?"
"Tugging on your hair," you explain, shoulder pulled up to your cheek.
Eddie kisses your tummy lovingly and climbs on top of you to do the same just under your chin. "It’s okay, sweetheart, I like that shit. That was good, huh?" he asks, lips dropping down to yours all wet and warm.
He's not bragging, he's genuinely asking.
You nod into his kiss, your hands coming up to his sides. You swear your ears perk up as he unzips his jeans and eases them down, a hand disappearing into the mess of fabric. He moans quietly at the first touch.
You move his hair out of the way to watch. Eddie tugs at the length of his cock with a cruel hand, a short dribble of pearly precum sobbing down the tip and under his fingers. He spreads it as it goes, the slickness emphasising the ridges and veins of his cock. You can see it throb, if you look close enough.
He sits back and eases his jeans and boxers down enough to reveal a thatch of curls that brush his hand with every pump downward.
"You okay?" he asks, smirking.
You pull your shirt over your head and your chest warms at his adoring smile. "Will you take off yours?"
He doesn't hesitate like you worried he might. He sheds his t-shirt, pulling the fabric over the back of his head and dumping it off the side of the bed.
You take in his chest and it's abundance of ragged scarring still purpled with newness. He has a tattoo over his heart, a black whorl of legs and eyes. Fine dark hair crawls from the middle of his chest down his navel, joining with the thatch of coiled hair surrounding his aching cock. You shuffle forward and wait with two tentative hands held aloft until he says, "It's okay," before you touch him. You run your hands down the soft slopes of his waist.
"Does it hurt?"
"Not anymore."
"Can I kiss it?"
He snorts. "Prefer you kiss something else."
That really makes you laugh. You dot a kiss against his jaw and can't make yourself stop, dropping them all the way to the skin behind his ear. Your hand creeps lower as you go, held to the curve of his tummy. His skin is hot to touch the lower you go, and his stomach feels solid, a heaviness you know all too well.
"Can I touch you?" you whisper into his ear.
"Please."
You drop your forehead against his chest and he brings his hand up to cup the back of your head. His cock pulses as you wrap your hand around it, skin smooth and slick as you palm slowly up and down. You watch in awe as a bead of precum wells at the tip, Eddie's rough breathing loud overhead.
"Lie down, Y/N," he says, hand moving behind your naked shoulders.
"What way?"
"How do you want it, sweetheart? We'll do it whatever way you want."
You think about it. Whatever way you want. No matter how indulgent, you know he means it.
"Will you spoon me?"
He pushes you gently and follows behind, dragging your body into his front and angling your hips, cock hot and prodding your back. He gets his hand under your knee and pulls it up, splaying your cunt. You jump in surprise as he pushes his cock through your folds, tip rubbing against the still sensitive bead of your clit.
Eddie wraps his arms around you, hugging you from behind. "You wanna put it in for me, baby?"
You reach between your bodies and take his sticky cock into your hand, shifting until the head nudges against your hole. He sinks in inch by inch, arms tightening around your waist and grinding you down onto his cock until you're whimpering.
You grab at his arms with your hands and tether yourself to him as he starts to rock his hips, his thrusting tender and his face turned into your neck.
He presses his hand flat to your abdomen, an anchoring point as he moulds your weepy cunt around his length, each slovenly movement into your heat spreading you that little bit wider.
"Fuck," he says finally, sounding seconds from a black out. "Oh, fuck- You're tight. Gonna fuck you open slow, okay?"
You're pretty sure you'd let him do just about anything. You bring his hand to your mouth and kiss every white knuckle, every freckle you can see on the back, and when he bottoms out your cover your lips with his stolen hand to smother a tearful gasp.
Eddie's thrusts are spearing in their steady rhythm, a dirty slap ringing with every punching thrust forward. You curl in on yourself and hide your mouth in the sheets, wet pants smothered by fabric. Eddie's grip falls to your hip, where he pulls your body back and forces your cunt open even deeper.
His cock pushes into your sweet spot sudden and emphatic. You moan and he stills, rutting into that same space without pulling out until you're babbling his name, body knocked forward with every thrust.
Eddie turns your face toward him as much as he can without hurting your neck, your moans echoing in time with each thrust. "There you go," he says, "wanna hear how good it feels."
If he cares that you can't answer him he doesn't show it, arm coming up under you arm to grasp at your chest, your breaststroke soft and aching under his hand as he squeezes tenderly. His cock kisses at the sweet spot inside you intermittently; you're dizzy with it.
Eddie can't keep quiet either, his moans breathy, his breath hissing between his teeth when you clamp down around him. "Fuck," he begs, dragging his cock out of your heat, "fuck, Y/N."
He says your name like the syllables alone are appraising.
You can tell when it gets too much for him. He slows. His face drops into your shoulder, and he matches his pace to the wet kisses he leaves behind. Your wetness feels stickying, each of his thrusts snug.
His breath hitches, ragged pants accompanying every slow push of his hips. "Where's my girl?" he asks, eyes still closed as his hand abandons where it'd been squeezing the bump of your tummy to search further downward, fingers disappearing into your folds, short curls wet with slick. He can't find any purchase. You roll your hips, chase his touch and the pleasure that comes with it.
He groans into your shoulder. It sounds more pain than pleasure.
"Are you okay?" you ask, trying to turn in his arms. He holds you in place. "Eddie?"
"Yeah, fuck, I'm okay." He grinds up into your cunt. "Fuck, you're perfect."
"Will you kiss me?"
He does. It's nowhere near the bruising press you'd wanted. It's too careful.
"Listen," he murmurs, "I'm gonna get you on your front, okay? Gonna make you feel so good," he promises, waiting for you to nod before he pushes your shoulder away from him and climbs up behind you. You lay flat on your stomach and Eddie settles on your thighs, a heavy weight.
He pushes into your cunt with two fingers first, the new position allowing for a new pleasure. He pumps in and out and swaps his fingers for his cock quickly after, bearing the full weight of his body into your back as sinks to the hilt.
You both moan in time, hands fisted in the sheets.
He kisses your neck, lips parted, and his teeth feel so sharp that your heart sinks as it had in the bathroom.
"Eddie-" you start.
He pulls away, stops every movement.
"Eddie," you say again. What are you supposed to say? You both know what he is.
There's a lull where neither of you knows what to do filled by your too-fast breathing.
"I won't hurt you," he says, hands rubbing up the length of your back and then under. He holds a hand over your heart. He drops his lips to your back. "Do you want me to stop?"
He must feel your pulse calm under his touch, but he still asks again when you don't answer. "Do you want me to stop? It's okay if you do. You're okay, baby, I promise."
You steal a pillow from against the headboard and rise up on elbows. Your admission comes weak but completely honest. "Fuck me, Eddie, please... I want you. I want you-" Your murmuring's interrupted by a sharp breath as Eddie starts to move again, the head of his cock pushing into your cunt, a slick, perfect feeling.
He moans from the back of his throat as his cock pushes into you again and again, hips smacking the dough of your ass as his pace quickens. You hug your pillow tightly, tears popping up in the corners as he ruts deep.
"Being so good for me," he groans, clamped down on your hip with a vice-like grip. "Fuck, you feel so good. Fucking clinging to me every time I pull out, baby, Christ." His blasphemy is punctuated by a thrust that has you sliding up the bed, sheets wrinkling under your arms. You spread your thighs and wetness pools at your clit as his pelvis thrusts into you, driving pleasure so deeply it aches in your hips.
You moan pathetically and reach back to hold his hand, wiggling your fingers. He takes it in one and presses your arm against your lower back with the other, struggling to maintain a steady pace as he gets close to cumming. You're a babbling stream of sounds as he fucks in deep, swollen sweet spot tapped against mercilessly.
He throws himself back on his haunches, cock dragged out of your heat.
You pull your legs out from underneath him and curl onto your side to watch, eyes wide as white spurts of pearlescence jump out of the head of his reddened cock and drip down the bumps of his fingers. He leans back, his stomach and thighs tensed with every pump.
He groans through a smile, moan's coloured by a happy, relieved laughter. "F-uck," he drags, fisting his cock dry.
He meets your eyes as the last of it slides down onto his stomach.
You smile softly. "Fuck," you mumble.
Eddie wipes his hand in his jeans like a fucking hooligan and tucks his cock back into his boxers with a wince, and then he collapses on top of you. He's sort of nice about it, his arm over your shoulder and his face behind your ear.
"Fucking beautiful," he praises, dropping his head back on the bed so you're face to face. "You're so fucking pretty. So perfect." He kisses you. "You're perfect," he repeats, staring intently into your eyes.
You pull a hand from between your legs, smelling of sex. Eddie literally couldn't care less if he tried, and he lets you take his face into your hand without complaint.
He gets his arm under your arm and starts to rub your back. "You want me to take care of you again?" he asks, eyebrows raised gently. "Yeah?"
And you would let him, you would, but you need to see them for yourself.
You touch your index fingertip to his lip.
"Can I see?" you ask.
He loses his boisterous joy, tamps it down. He realises that he can't lie, that he hasn't been lying, and he nods. You tremble as you pull his lip up over his canine tooth, excited and scared.
A sharp, exceptionally white tooth pokes out of Eddie's gums. You're taken aback, though you'd known exactly what you'd find.
A fang.
Blood oozes at the gums.
"You're bleeding," you worry aloud, touching your finger to the dark beading at the base of his tooth.
Eddie's eyes rove over your face thoughtfully. He pulls your hand away from his lip and sets it on his neck instead. "They always do that. The gum heals, breaks when they wanna come out."
"How often do they come out?"
"A lot more since I met you. Whenever my adrenaline spikes, they seem to think it's… feeding time."
That is a dizzying thing to learn.
You're not sure how you feel, but you know one thing: he's Eddie. "It's too bad," you say, forcing a lightness that turns real more easily than you expect. "I really want to kiss you right now."
He strokes your cheek with his thumb. "I really wanna kiss you too. Maybe a small one?"
You find yourself leaning forward, unafraid.
He kisses you once, twice, three times, the two of you holding each other's faces and covered in mess. Slick and sweat and blood. The hearts and stars from your lamp spray over his hip and paint him with pinks, greens, oranges, a rainbow cutting over his trim waist. You rest your hand overtop, feel his keloid scars like hills under your fingers.
"My boyfriend's a vampire," you mutter, bemused at fate.
Eddie blinks at you. "I'm your boyfriend?"
"Yeah, I think so. Don't you?"
Eddie pulls you into his chest and doesn't let you go for a long, long time.
-
Your first time watching a blood sate is weird.
For one, Chief Hopper is firmly against it. He's got his kid with him, the boy from the party that Mike had been so heavily doting on, and if he didn't you might think he was a pretty scary guy.
"I think this is stupid," the chief says plainly. "I think this is stupid, I think you're stupid," — he points at Eddie where he's sitting sickly in the round couch — "and I think you're plain crazy, kid." He points at you last.
You beam at him. "People have said that about me."
His kid laughs.
"Will," Hopper says tiredly, "go sit in the car."
"Look, Chief, I know I messed up, okay, but she kind of stuck her hand in my mouth and I didn't really have a choice."
Wayne looks at you with new eyes. "You did?"
You nod at him faux-seriously.
"And what gave her the inkling that you might have had something in your mouth worth looking at?" Hopper says, which is hilarious. You laugh behind your hand.
He gives you a disapproving look that you completely ignore. If you'd taken notice of disapproval you would've stopped having this much fun years ago.
"Uh, well, she might have… felt them?" His pitch rises.
Hopper looks like he's about to blow a gasket when Will says, "What was he supposed to do? Never talk to anyone new ever again?"
"He did a lot more than just talk to me," you say. There'd been a fixed bike, phone calls, lots of sandwiches, bug hunts, an entire sketchbook full of drawings.
"I told you to wait in the car," Hopper says.
Will grins and raises his hands in surrender. "Bye," he mouths. You wave.
Hopper waits for the door to close before he continues. "I get it, when you're a teenager you think your hormones are the end of the world-"
"I'm almost twenty three."
Hopper pinches his hand closed. "But you do not understand the danger that you are creating here."
"Like a stake-ing," you whisper, very very quietly. Eddie's the only one who can hear you, and he laughs so hard he snorts.
"I'm glad you find this funny." Hopper's tone could not imply the opposite any more.
He hands Wayne a paper bag that audibly sloshes and stalks out, his anger a palpable cloud of steam rising off of his shoulders. Eddie seizes up beside you at the sound, lips parting as his fangs come through. You don't touch him because you value your blood inside your body, only slide away from him and smile. "You okay, handsome?"
"Kid, maybe the chief is right. We don't know how Eds is gonna act with you here," Wayne says.
You nod respectfully. You like Wayne, and he knows about all of this stuff more than you ever could.
"No," Eddie mumbles, putting his hand out for you across the couch.
You take it without thinking.
Wayne sighs. You can hear him grumbling as he disappears from view into the kitchen and puts a pot on the stove. There's the sound of a bag being punctured with a knife, a wet slosh. Eddie's grip on your hand tightens.
You're still fascinated that he even drinks blood in the first place. That's wickedly sickening. Wicked, because it's cool that he's a vampire, with his impressive hearing, senses and smell. But sickening, because if you had to drink a pint of blood every couple of weeks you'd throw up.
"I read about a new blood-sucker."
Eddie raises his heavy head. "Another bug?"
"No, a finch! A vampire finch. They're really pretty, Teddy. They're small and brown with long beaks and they drink blood because there's barely any water on their island." You give him a loving smile. "They aren't parasites. S'just how they had to change to survive."
He squeezes your hand, this time on purpose.
"Are you gonna come and have it in here, Eddie?" Wayne asks, one last shot at separating the two of you.
"I'm okay," he says loudly. His eyes trace your smile. "Really."
It can't be fun to have two people watch you drink a warm mug of blood, but Eddie finds it funny. He keeps laughing every time he brings the rim of the glass to his mouth.
"I can't do it if you're looking at me," he says.
Wayne rolls his eyes and looks away. You cover your face with both hands and part your fingers to spy on him through the gaps. He makes it look easy, draining the mug basically in one long pull, though his hunger turns violent as the cup empties. He chokes. Blood trickles down from one corner of his mouth.
You automatically want to reach over and wipe it away. Wayne grabs your arm before you can and gives you a fatherly look that says, I wouldn't do that if I were you.
"Shit," Eddie says, slamming his now empty mug down on the coffee table. It makes a grating sound like a ground mortar and pestle. He sits as far back on the couch cushions as he can, nausea clear on his face.
"Deep breath," Wayne says.
"Fuck, Wayne."
"You're aces. Deep breaths."
Your heart hurts watching Eddie like this. He covers his mouth with eyes closed tightly and breathes hard through his nose. Already there's colour coming back into his face, not a lot but anything is an improvement. He'd been practically grey.
When Eddie pulls his hand from his mouth blood has spread over his lips and jaw. Your eyes widen.
"I'll get the shower running," Wayne says, slapping his knees as he stands. He stops before the hallway. "Good job, Eddie."
The boy in question slouches into a ball on the sofa and nods into a cushion. You wait for the sound of Wayne pulling the shower cord that turns on the hot water before you stand up, head tipped to one side.
"You okay, handsome?".
"Tired."
"You want a hug from me?"
"Is anyone else offering?" He opens one eye to peek at you and grins at your distraught expression. "I'm joking, I'm kidding. C'mere, before I start bawling." You sit and then flop onto your side, pulling your legs up next to his. "Such a frowny face." His voice is adorably tired.
"Better than yours. You look like someone from Night of the Living Dead, baby."
Eddie's arm lies limp like a dead fish over your waist. "Lemme nibble on your brains," he says, words thick as dark honey, eyes closed. "Just a snack."
You're waiting for someone to pull the rug out from under your feet. No way your boyfriend, your cries at the end of every movie, brings you flowers because he felt like it, won't step on cracks in the sidewalk boyfriend just skulled a glass of O-negative like it was a milkshake.
You feel guilty as soon as you think about it. He's not confined to all his softest parts and he never will be. He's snarky and angry and loud. He plays guitar like a real rockstar and he doesn't take anyone's shit. He's a survivor. A glass of blood every now and then was never gonna stop him.
You keep wondering if you should let him suck your blood. It could be hot. It could also probably be the worst idea ever, a relationship faux pas up there with proposing after a month or saying I love you on the first date.
"What are you thinking about?" he asks.
You brush the hair out of his eyes with your ring finger. "Embarrassing relationship fumbles."
"Oh yeah? Like letting your girlfriend watch you drink human blood from a mug shaped like Woodstock?"
"Least it wasn't Snoopy."
"God forbid."
"Is it always like this?" You stroke your hand down his face and rub along his jaw with your thumb. "D'you always get sleepy?"
"Yeah." He turns his face so your hand covers his mouth.
You've stopped wearing silver jewellery, your wrists bare besides the endearingly awful friendship bracelet he's constructed for you. Not a friendship bracelet, he'd corrected. You're not kissing other friends, are you? Because that's really gonna put a downer on this whole thing.
You dip your forehead to his chin and the two of you lay there in silence. You can smell blood, a thick, metallic stick permeating every corner of the room. It's especially strong between the both of you.
"Do you wanna bite me right now?" you inquire without opening your eyes.
"Not really. Blood sate kicks in quickly. It's the worst for, like, the first ten seconds after. Now I wanna sleep, but Wayne's gonna make me shower."
"Maybe I can shower with you."
"I'm sure he'd jump for joy if you suggest it."
"Really?"
Eddie kisses your hand. "No," he says with a giddy laugh.
"I'll pretend I'm gonna sit on the toilet. Keep watch."
"How will you stop your hair from getting wet?"
"I'll lean out."
Eddie laughs even more than he had been, peeling laughter that warms you from the inside out as he kisses your hand again. "That'll definitely work."
Wayne clears his throat.
"Shower's hot. I'm going out. For an hour." Eddie perks up. His uncle looks him dead in the eye. "Don't make me regret this."
And while Wayne had been under the impression you and Eddie were gonna have some grown up fun together in the shower, what you really do is an innocent act of affection: you wash Eddie's hair.
"You have to lean your head back," you chide.
"I am."
"More than that."
"There's no room."
You're lucky you both fit. You're freezing standing behind Eddie, the only relief the warm water that trickles down from your hands to your elbows as you draw circles in his scalp, working the shampoo into a fine lather.
"How did you get blood here?" you ask, scratching rusty flakes from the hair behind his ear.
"I don't know. It gets everywhere. Like eyeshadow."
You push your chin over his shoulder. "You wear eyeshadow?"
"For shows."
"Really?"
"Is it hard to believe?"
You encourage his head under the water and rake your hands through his curls, encouraging the soapy water down to the ends with patient hands. "Lip gloss too? Hey, can I do your makeup?"
"Maybe tomorrow," he bargains. While the shower has helped to wake him up, lethargy remains thick and unshakeable as adamant.
You kiss the wet ridge of his shoulder blade, picturing his pretty face decked out in dark liners and sticky balm. "Thank you."
"I haven't worn any in a long time. Haven't played a show in a really long time."
You wring the water out of his hair and search in the steam for his conditioner. It's mostly empty. "You could put on a show for me. I never got to see you play," you say, shaking it really hard. A dollop collects in your hand and you work the dregs through the ends of his long hair.
"You want that?"
"I think you're the best guitar player in the world."
You're not joking. He's the best, and he plays guitar. And he's pretty good, semantics aside. You love sitting out on the porch with him and listening to him play old rock songs off the top of his head. You could watch his hands move over the strings for hours.
"If that's the case, I can definitely put on a show. Make-up, costume, stage dives. The whole nine yards. Anything for my girl."
You roll the ends of his hair between two coated palms and step back. "There. You have to let it soak in for a couple of minutes."
Eddie turns with a grin, angling his chest and hair forward, away from the stream.
"Whatever will we do?"
You wipe an escaped streak of blood off of his bottom lip and smile. "I have no idea."
You kiss. Eddie leans down and you move up, damp noses glancing off of each other. You're used to short kisses, never enough to make his heart race in case it prompts an unnecessary appearance of his fangs, so when Eddie encourages your lips apart to wade in deeper you pull back questioningly.
"Blood sate. I'm 'sated'. They won't come out."
Your jaw drops. "For real?"
He shakes his head with a pleased smile. "For real. Kiss me sick, sweetheart."
You throw your arm around his neck and drag his face to yours, kissing with an ardency that both surprises and amuses him. He laughs into your open mouth until suddenly he's not laughing at all, only breathing, pushing against you with the same urgent force and the same adoring smile.
"Does this mean you can give me a hickey?" you ask enthusiastically. Eddie has yet to give you a proper love bite.
He leans back under the show spray and pulls you in with him, laughing when you dissolve like rice paper in his arms, finally warm. There's never been a sweeter sound.
/\^._.^/\
thank you for reading! | my masterlist | my halloween party
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#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x reader imagine#eddie munson x reader hurt/comfort#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x afab!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson smut#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#stranger things#vampire!au#vampire!eddie#vampire!eddie munson#vampire eddie au#vampire eddie smut#vampire eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#stranger things 4#stranger things 4 spoilers#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x afab!reader smut#fem!reader#luveline's halloween party
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𝐍𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐬
Summary: Eddie being sleep deprived because his three month-old baby won't go down for a nap.
A quick little blurb that's been bothering me since last night so I just had to jot it down. More of Eddie and Penny here.
“C’mon, sweet pea. You’re killin me.”
Eddie sighed, placing his three month-old on her back, alongside him on the bed.
Just as she had the last seven times he’d tried to lay her down, his baby began grunting, straining herself as she attempted to sit up on her own, neck muscles working overtime. She wouldn’t be able to sit up, of course. Still smaller than his forearm, Penny was much too little, nor did she have that kind of control over her body, but still she tried, wrinkly fingers curling into fists, face darkening as she trembled and her upper half tensed.
She could hurt herself, though. So once more, Eddie sighed, carefully lifting her up and settling her on his upper torso, her little head bobbing clumsily in the crook of his neck as she continued to grunt and squeak.
Penny wasn’t supposed to be awake, she was fighting sleep and doing so fiercely. Twenty-seven minutes past her nap time and she was trying to stare at the world around her in wonder rather than rest as she should so she wouldn’t be up through the night and keeping the two of you up. But this was now Penny’s world. And they were just living in it and caring for her, completely at her mercy.
He’d set the sleepmosphere; turned off the lights, closed his blinds, and was playing a lullaby that came from the giant baby monitor that stayed above her crib. Plus, his little baby had a plump tummy full of breastmilk and no gas to upset her. Eddie had rocked her until she got quiet, but everytime he so much as peaked around to see if her big brown eyes were open, they were. Wide open and flickering to everything in the room, little mouth parted in awe. She even had the audacity to struggle against his hand, cradling the back of her soft and dainty head.
Penny was getting stronger and stronger every day.
“Okay, why don’t we make a deal? You go to sleep right now, and I’ll convince your mom to up the ounces of your bottles and distract her with conversation when she’s breastfeeding you. Look at that, you’d get more food and more rest. It’s a win-win because then you wouldn’t be screeching at daddy in the middle of the night while he’s sleep deprived and warming up a bottle for you.”
And when he felt his baby’s bobble head whack into the side of his neck, “That’s unnecessary. I made you a fair offer with no cons on your part—violence is not the answer.”
He waited a beat, eyes staring at the wall as he became overly aware of the bags under his eyes, the exhaustion that had settled over him that he’d since learned to run on. Eddie had reached the manic state already, now it was just acceptance.
Penny let out a particularly protesting squeak, loud and demanding as she seemed to finally run out of strength, face rubbing into his collar bone until she could replenish it and lift her head again.
“Fine. You win. Just know, when I’m old and senile and you’ll have to change my diapers, I will be returning the favor.”
#Eddie Munson x reader#dad!eddie munson x reader#girl dad!eddie munson#pennyverse#dilf!eddie munson#dilf!eddie munson x reader#dad!Eddie Munson x mom!reader#Eddie Munson fluff#Eddie Munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x afab reader#Eddie Munson x black!reader#Eddie Munson blurb#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#Eddie Munson fanfic#Eddie Munson fic#stranger things#stranger things 4#stranger things vol 1#stranger things vol 2#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#queenimmadolla
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REQUEST:
Modern eddie munson addicted to video games.
He’s online with friends all the time and paying no attention to you. You’re getting tired of it so you stale action by riding him in his gamer chair still making him play the game and keep himself unmuted. After a lil he can’t take it anymore and powers down the game abruptly, carriying you over to the bed and fucking you until you can’t walk….🤭
loved this idea so much, sorry it took so long for me to finish had writers block, but I hope you like it! thanks for the request anon <3
Pairing: Modern!Eddie Munson x AFAB!Reader
Content Warning: NSFW 18+ minors dni, handjobs, unprotected sex, PinV sex, slight dacryphilia kink? slightly proofread.
A/N: Sorry I've been gone for a little while, but I'm back and I'm working my way through requests, so feel free to ask for one. I'm also officially working on part 2 of "The No List" I don't know when it will be out though so if you want to be added to a tag list just let me know :)
Word Count: 2.4K
You stood at his door for ten minutes, if you knocked any harder it would probably fall down. You knew Eddie was home, he’d just called you thirty minutes ago, asking you to come over, you just didn’t know why he wasn’t answering the door. Before you think about knocking again, you check under the doormat and of course there was the spare key.
Unlocking it and stepping inside you can already hear Eddie shouting at someone and that already tells you everything. You roll your eyes and shut the door behind you “Eds!” you call trying to announce your arrival, but nothing. Heading to the bedroom, there he was sitting at the desk, back to you.
He had his headset on, eyes focused on his screen, still unaware of your presence. “Eddie!” you try again stepping closer a hand reaching out to tap his shoulder, he flinches.
His gaze tears away for a split second to see who it was “Shit, you scared me” he gives you a smile.
“Hello to you too” you return the smile and lean down to kiss him, but you’re met with his cheekbone when his head snaps back to the screen.
“Shit!” he shouts, killing yet another creature in one of his stupid video games, one you had got him and immediately regret buying.
“Hey, when are you gonna get off?” you ask, but your voice falls on deaf ears as he continues to pay attention to whoever is on the other side of the mic. “Eddie!” you give him a shove and his head snaps back to you.
“Yeah, yeah sorry I’ll be off as soon as I finish this round, I promise” he rushed, immediately going back to the game without giving you a chance to protest.
So you give in and lay on the bed, opting to mindlessly scroll through your phone as you started your long wait. It didn’t take long for you to get restless and tired of listening to him shout at the screen. You and Eddie had been seeing each other less and less lately with it being the busiest time of the year for you both, you thought finally after days of not seeing each other he’d jump at the chance to be with you, but it was clear that he had other things on his mind.
Around the twenty minute mark he cheered, winning yet another game, you listened in on his conversation “Good game…oh I don’t know my-” he turned slightly to look over at you seeing that you were still looking at your phone “Okay…one more but after that I-.”
You reached for one of his pillows and threw it at the back of his head “Eddie!” he turned, looking apologetic “You know just because you’re ignoring me, doesn’t mean I can’t hear you right?” you glare at him.
“I know, I’m sorry, look just one more game and I swear I’m all yours” he sees your unamused impression, knowing he should have just got off when you got here, he was the one to call you over after all.
“Fine, do whatever” you huff flipping over to your stomach so you didn’t have to look at him. He knew it was the wrong choice, but his friends were all calling for him down the mic, so he went back to playing.
You had two options, leave and not speak to him for the rest of the day or give him a reason to get off the game. You weren’t about to leave, not when you had waited all week to see him and spent extra time that morning getting ready just for him, so you’d just have to take matters into your own hands.
You got up and started to undress yourself, stripping down to your underwear, a set you had picked out just for Eddie, you weren’t about to let it go to waste. You crept up behind him, leaning down to place soft kisses to the side of his neck. He let out a small gasp, surprised at the feeling of your lips ghosting over his skin, but let you continue.
You stalked around him so that you were in his peripheral, he took a quick glance, then went back to the game before doing a double take. His eyes scanned your entire body, taking in the time to memorize all your soft curves, lips parted as he practically drooled over you.
He quickly muted himself “Give me two seconds, just to let them know I have to go” he rushes, but you stop him.
“No, it’s okay, keep playing, like you said you can’t just leave your team in the middle of a game, right?” you say, repeating the excuse he had used on you many times.
“But you- your- shit sweetheart you’re killing me” he reaches a hand out to run his fingers over the waistband of the lace underwear.
“Poor you” you tut, no feeling behind it, he had you waiting what felt like hours for him and now he wants to get off “I think you can wait a few minutes and finish your game, go on.”
You encourage him, he’s torn but his team is calling him, wondering why he wasn’t responding. He finally unmutes himself “Yeah, I’m here sorry” and with that he goes back to playing, this time a lot more distracted, stealing quick glances at you.
You however weren’t gonna let him get off that easy. You reach down, toying with the waistband of his sweatpants, he sends you a warning glare, but does nothing to stop you as you dip your hand into his pants. “Shit…” he gasps when you wrap your hand around his base, he was already half hard.
“You gotta be quiet, don’t want anyone hearing you now do we?” you say, smiling down at him. He shook his head and tugged his bottom lip between his teeth to help keep himself quiet, trying to focus on the game and not the feeling of you stroking his cock.
Once you were satisfied with how hard he was, you tugged on his sweatpants, signaling for him to lift his hips which he hesitantly complies to. You climb onto his lap, straddling his hips, his cock only centimeters away from your clothed cunt.
He quickly mutes himself again “What are you doing?” he asks through gritted teeth as you grind down against him.
“What? I’m not doing anything” you say, trying to act dumb as you rock your hips again. Before he can respond he can hear his friends saying they need his help “Go on.”
“You are, you’re trying to kill me” He sighs, unmuting himself again “Where are you?” he goes back to helping his teammates and you go back to grinding against him. He fights to keep his eyes from closing as you line him up with your entrance, his tip catching on it. You brace yourself, trying your best to stay quiet as you sink down on him, a small whimper passing your lips at the stretch as you seat yourself on him.
His head is thrown back as your warm walls wrap around him, squeezing him tight. You start the slow rock of your hips, it was gonna be a lot harder to not make a sound than you thought, the feeling of him pressed against that sweet spot deep inside. Eddie ground his hips up to meet yours making you double over, head resting in the crook of his neck, you covered your mouth with your hand as a quiet moan escaped.
Eddie was wearing a smug grin, your own plan had backfired, he knew you wouldn’t be able to stay composed, not while he was buried to the hilt in your cunt. One of his hands trailed down the plane of your back, coming down to cup the flesh of your ass and thighs, grabbing at anything he could get. You raised your hips and sunk back down meeting his thrusts, you bit down on his shoulder to try and suppress any sounds that threatened to escape.
Eddie was losing it, his teammate’s calls for help long forgotten, his focus now fully on you. The quiet sounds that only he could hear coming from you left him wanting to fuck you senseless. “Eddie, please…” you whined and that was it for him. He removed his headset and shut off the monitor without any explanation to his friends who were left wondering what had happened.
Both of his hands hooking under the backs of your knees “Hold on” being the only warning he gave you before he picked you up. You wrapped your arms around him, both of you still connected as he carried you over to the bed. He threw you down to start stripping himself from all his clothes.
You watched impatiently, thighs rubbing together trying to create some friction to ease the loss of his cock, but it wasn’t long until he was on you again. “You really are insatiable, you know that?” he grins down at you, grabbing himself by the base so he could slide his tip through your folds.
“Please..” you moan weakly as he taps it against your clit.
“Please what?” he knew what you wanted, he just wanted to hear you beg for it. He caught his tip on your entrance, barely pushing into you, then pulling out again. “Come on, weren’t so shy when you were riding me, bet you wanted them to hear you huh? You wanted them to hear how good my cock makes you feel?”
He slid his hands up your body, freeing you from your bra and leaning down to place open mouth kisses on your breasts. He looked up at you as he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, that had you mewling into his touch “Come on baby, tell me what you want.”
“Want you to fuck me, please” you wrapped your legs around his waist, hands in his hair to tug him closer to you.
“Always so sweet for me” he leaned into you, your lips meeting as he guided himself into you. You whined against his lips at the contact, he didn’t waste time before thrusting into you at a fast pace, sliding over that spot only he could hit.
It didn’t take long for you to become a moaning mess. Eddie was the one to break the kiss, sucking and biting at the side of your neck instead so he could listen to all the blissed out sounds you were making. He could tell you needed more though and he would always give you what you needed.
He sat back, grabbing the backs of your legs and pressing your thighs to your stomach. You practically screamed as he started hitting you at a new angle, his pace picking up as he pounded into you.
“Fuck! Please Eddie, f-feels so good” you babbled beneath him, it only made him go faster. Deep groans escaped him, his grip becoming almost painfully tight on the back of your thighs, rings leaving imprints on your doughy flesh.
Eddie was trying not to bust his load just looking at you, the way your jaw was slack letting out the sweetest sounds every time his cock abused your g spot, the way your eyes were struggling to stay open because you wanted to watch him fuck into you. “Holy shit- so fucking wet for me sweetheart, pussy practically crying for me, just needed me to fuck you on my cock didn’t you?” he coos, now buried impossible deep in you, tip kissing your cervix.
You couldn’t even form words to respond, you nod weakly as tears began to form from the amount of pleasure he was giving you. “So fucking pretty when you cry for me, making you feel that good?” he pants, thrusts faltering slightly as he could feel his own release approaching. “Shit, squeezing me so good baby, you close?” he asks, though he could tell you were holding off for him.
It had seemed like forever since you’d last been with Eddie, you didn’t want it to be over so quickly so you’d been holding off as long as you could, but it was becoming impossible, especially when you feel his fingertips over your clit. You jolt at the sudden extra shock of pleasure “Fuck! Y-yes m’close” you reached for something to hold onto, grabbing onto his shoulders.
He used whatever energy he had to keep up his animalistic pace as he fucked you into the mattress, bringing you to the edge. “Come on baby, cum all over my cock” his words only encourage you further as you feel that coil snap and your orgasm wash over you, feeling more like it was crashing down in huge waves of pleasure.
Eddies fingers were fast on your clit as he fucked you through it, feeling you grip down on him so hard, nails scratching his flushed skin, it had him spilling inside you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” he moaned, each word punctuated with the slam of his hips.
The room filled with nothing but your cries, his desperate moans and the lewd wet sounds of sex as you both rid out your highs. You were so fucked out you were seeing stars, your hearing going fuzzy. You feel Eddie collapse on top of you, finally letting go of your aching thighs. His chest heaving, bangs stuck to his forehead, the two of you covered in a sheet of sweat, but you were too far gone to care.
He eased out of you, peppering kisses to your chest, neck and face to bring you around again. “Still with me?” he asks, you could only hum a response back and he smile. He sits up and disappears for a moment, you wait until you feel the bed sink next to you again before finally opening your eyes to look at him.
He was staring down at you, eyes so full of admiration and love. “Here” he hands you a water, you sit against the headboard to take a few sips as he brushes the hair from your face. “Good?” he asks, hand coming down to soothe over your thighs, still trembling with the aftershocks.
“More than good” you smile up at him “Should fuck you in your game chair more often.”
He laughs, “Yeah, you should.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x afab reader#eddie munson smut#modern eddie munson#eddie munson fics#eddie munson request#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#stranger things#stranger things smut#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson stranger things smut#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x gender neutral reader
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