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rip-quizilla · 10 months

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Monsters & Miracles

Chapter 1: This Story's Still Going

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

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

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

Word Count: 7.1k

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

Chapter 1: This Story's Still Going

~2006~ The Upside Down

Twenty years ago, Eddie Munson was supposed to die.

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

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

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

Thou shalt have no other gods before Me.

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

Honor thy father and mother.

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

Thou shalt not kill.

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

Just like Eddie.

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

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

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

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

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

He mostly followed the bats.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Trooper. Iron Maiden. 1983.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~2006~ Hawkins, Indiana Christmas Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nope.

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

That was fine.

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

This could work.

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

“What became of the man that started

All are gone and their souls departed

Left me here in this place so all alone

Stranger in a strange land

Land of ice and snow”

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

Would she ever have a home again?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~The Upside Down~ Eddie

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

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

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

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

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

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

~Hawkins~ Wendy

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

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

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

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

Please, please, please, please.

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

Show me!

~The Upside Down~ Eddie

Eddie had forgotten he could bleed.

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

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

~Hawkins~ Wendy

“Ow!”

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

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

A flash of blue. A hand that wasn��t hers. Nails that sharpened into points like claws. Dark red blood that trickled over the torn leathery skin that stretched over knuckles much larger than her own. And then, a flash, and she was looking at her own hand again.

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

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

~The Upside Down~ Eddie

Eddie was going insane.

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

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

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

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

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

~Hawkins~ Wendy

“-In a corner forgotten by no one

You lived for the touch

For the feel of the steel

One man and his honor”

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

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

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

And then “Master of Puppets” started to play.

~The Upside Down~ Eddie

Eddie started to laugh.

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

This was him.

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

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

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

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

~Hawkins~ Wendy

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

It’s fucking terrifying.

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop this.”

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

“I am not going crazy!”

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

“Get out of my head!”

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

“I said GET OUT!”

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

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

“YOU shut up!” the voice spat back.

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

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

“...What’s going on here?”

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

“Are you real?”

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

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

“Jury’s still out on that one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why is there broken glass on your floor?”

“Because you made my lights explode!”

“I did n- oh shit, did I?”

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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

“Your guess is as good as mine, kid.”

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

“You are?”

“Yup.”

“Damn.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm.”

“I guess I’m forty, then.”

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

“Are you in front of the mirror yet?”

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

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

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

“Worth a try.”

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

“Yeah. One-”

“Two-” Wendy counted along.

“Three.”

~The Upside Down~ Eddie

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

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

He saw her.

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

“Have you always had those?”

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

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

“Where are you?”

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

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

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

“Mirkwood Apartments.”

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

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

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

“You lived in Hawkins twenty years ago?”

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

“I grew up there.” Eddie answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So tell me your story.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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porchlightfairy · 10 months

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Okay delving into the man eating partner idea. I love a religious dark horror. Think like Midnight Mass if anyone has seen it.

Trigger warning for GORE!!! This is horror don’t like it don’t read it!!!

Eddie is a good catholic boy at least in the eye of the church he is. But what happens when he is smoking weed in the basement and discovers something living down there too. It attacks him. He thinks it’s god punishing him, curse he earthly woes. But when it stops feasting from his neck and changes into a beautiful figure he changes his tune.

They are ethereal to him. Otherworldly in appearance and suddenly he is at their beck and call. “More blood.” They command and he is willing.

Soon he is luring more and more people into the bunker to feed. They would forget after the Angel would feed. Wake up from a dream some would say. That was until one night he invites a basketball player. He stiffed him some cash and he wanted him to pay some other way. Scare him a little for what he did. But the Angel doesn’t just drink from the player. They tear his flesh off. Rip into his muscles. He’s screaming in pain. Like he was experiencing hell on Earth.

Eddie just stares as the beautiful Angel devours the young man until he’s just scraps of bone. The Angel looks at Eddie and with a red stained hand caresses his cheek. The touch is soft and warm.

Last time he felt their touch it was ice cold like a body post mortem. He can’t help but lean into their hand. Whether it was out of fear or love he doesn’t know. He’s confused. If they had the capability for that they should have killed him by now. But they hadn’t why?

The Angel licks up the blood from their hands and then stands and stretches. They grab the lettermen off the corpse and puts it on their lower half still bare. “Take me upstairs.” Their voice still sweet to Eddie. Eddie snaps out of his thoughts and sees the once blackened talons have turned into human hands with long fingernails. “Take me.” They whisper again.

Eddie nods and grabs the hand delicately and then leads the Angel up and out of the church.

#cami speaks #catholic!eddie x angel!reader #monster!reader #horror fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 3 months

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Cinnamon Girls

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Fem!OC)

Summary: Eddie never thought his nightly routine would include sneaking into a catholic collage to see his two girlfriends, but never say never, right? Wk:4.5k

Warnings: Established poly relationship, M/F/F threesome, spanking, choking, Dom!Eddie, Sub!Reader, Switch!OC, Pet names(Eddie has nicknames for both R & OC that I’ll explain in a different part), spint kink, scissoring, gum sharing?, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex. I think that’s it? Lmk if I missed any. 18+MDNI

A/N: Okay this idea came to me the other night and I was like possessed by it. I’m kind of obsessed with these three now and I’ve actually come up with other lore about them. I might expand on this lil AU if anyone’s interested. Thank you to my lovely betas @babygorewhore @bimbobaggins69 & @reidsbtch🧸🤍 Moodboard.

Eddie’s ringed fingers reach for the volume knob on the radio, turning it almost all the way down as he rounds the corner to his destination. He turns off the headlights as he slowly pulls his van close to the curb before cutting the engine. He always makes sure to be as quiet as possible, even if he is parked half a block down the road from the school itself. He pulls down the drivers side mirror, fluffing his unruly hair. He pops a piece of cinnamon gum into his mouth and exits his van, making sure not to slam the door like he tends to have a habit of doing.

He looks both ways, checking for bystanders. He was pretty sure there wouldn’t be anyone out on the street at 2AM, especially with the students strict curfew, but he always liked to be sure. If he got caught, he would be so fucked. He shoves the chain on his jeans in his pocket before hiking his leg up on the fence, vaulting himself as quietly as possible up and over onto the other side. He lands with a quiet thud, again checking his surroundings to make sure he was alone.

He walks around the edges of the campus, making sure to keep to the shadows and not set off any automatic lights. Once he reaches the building he’s come to know well he grabs a few small pebbles from the gravel beneath his feet. He tosses one up at the window he’s found himself crawling into most nights lately, and waits.

It only took a few seconds before he saw two heads popping into view, bright smiles on their faces. His heart rate immediately picks up, his stomach erupts with butterflies, and his cock slightly stirs in his pants at the prospect of what the night was going to bring.

Eddie quickly climbs up the conveniently placed fire exit ladder and the window is already pushed open for him when he reaches it. His long ripped jean clad legs enter the room and his boot covered feet hit the ground with a gentle thud one by one.

“My girls.” He smiles wide, taking the sides of your faces in each of his hands. “I missed you.”

“Eddieee.” You nuzzle your face into his palm, practically purring like a kitten. Looking up at him through your lashes with those big sweet eyes that drive him insane. “I missed you.”

“Hey nerd boy.” Mina chuckles, turning her face to nip at his fingers. “We saw you less than 24 hours ago.”

“So you didn’t miss me, pretty girl?” Eddie mock pouts, his thumb running along your girlfriend’s plump bottom lip.

“I didn’t say that, did I?” She rolls her eyes, taking his digit into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it, pulling a groan from his chest.

“Don’t fall for her tough girl act Eds, you should’ve heard her when I was underneath her skirt between classes earlier… ‘fuck baby, you’re so good, I wish I was watching Eddie fuck you from behind right now’ she totally missed you.”

“Hey!” She pulls off Eddie’s thumb with a pop, a string of spit still connected to her lips. “It’s not fair to use what I say when you’re eating me out like it’s the last chance you’ll ever get against me, brat!”

“That’s okay she pretty much lost me at ‘when I was underneath her skirt between classes earlier’… you two are going to fucking kill me, I swear.” Eddie groans, throwing his head back while he runs his hands down his face. The image of you and your girlfriend sneaking off in your little catholic school uniforms to get each other off driving both him and his cock insane.

“Is that doing it for you, Eddie? Thinking about us fucking when you’re not here? Because we do… All. The. Time. Before class, between class, after… we were just messing around before you got here actually…” The look on your face is innocent while the words leaving your mouth are anything but and Eddie swears every single time he comes here his dick gets harder than he ever thought possible.

“We tried to wait for you, but we just got so worked up thinking about you coming over… we couldn’t help ourselves.” Mina reaches up to run her long pointed black nails down his cheek and he grabs onto her wrist, stopping her movements.

“So you admit it then, you missed me? You can deny it if you want, but I bet the minute I get my hands on that pussy it’ll be dripping for me…” He smirks at her, his ember orbs boring into her mossy ones as his lips trail open mouth kisses down her wrist. “Show me…”

“Huh? Show you what?” Her eyes are wide, her body language much more relaxed than it had been in the last few minutes.

“You already getting all dumb on me, baby? All I did was put my lips on you…” Eddie’s large ringed hand grips her jaw, shaking her head from side to side. “Get on the bed and show me what you were doing with our girl before I got here.”

A whimper leaves her lips and it makes you clench around nothing. You always love watching them together. Mina was the more dominant of the two of you, often taking control in and out of the bedroom. So watching the way she submits so easily to Eddie makes you melt. They were both so fucking hot.

He releases her wrist and steps back, leaning against the desk near the wall. He crosses his feet at the ankles and looks at you both expectantly. His eyes finally take the time to drink you both in. If he hadn’t been so distracted by your dirty words and flirty banter what you were doing before he got here probably would’ve been obvious.

You were in nothing but a little pink cami that had a bunny printed on the front, your little white lace panties were adorned with a pink bow and you even had on fucking ruffle socks. You were the epitome of a little religious girl gone bad. Mina on the other hand was very much your opposite. Her black cut off tank top had a little skull and crossbones printed on it, her red g-string sat high on her hips, her feet were bare and the moonlight reflected off her black polished toes. She was the perfect example of what happens when religious girls rebel. Your lips were kiss swollen and her long dark hair looked like you’d been pulling at it. God, Eddie was the luckiest bastard to ever walk the earth.

He watches with his bottom lip secured between his teeth as she approaches you, one hand resting on your hip while the other grabs onto the hair at the nape of your neck. She uses her grip to pull your face to hers, kissing you with fever. Your hands snake around her to grab handfuls of her ass and she moans into your mouth.

“Wanna give Eddie a show, baby girl?” She mumbles against your lips.

“Fuck ya.” You pull back from her with a glint in your eyes and a smirk on your lips. Those mischievous eyes meet Eddie’s as you pull your girlfriend by the hand towards your bed. She sits against the headboard with her legs spread and you climb on top of her. You position your legs so your hips are tilted to the side, your barely clothed core sat directly on top of hers. You roll your hips causing both of you to moan at the feeling.

Her hands grip onto your ass to help you move against her while her hips grind up to meet your thrusts. You take her face in your hands and connect your lips again, your tongue darting out across her bottom lip, silently requesting access. She grants it to you immediately, intertwining her tongue with your own while she moans into your mouth.

Eddie licks his lips at the sight, the way your girlfriend’s long nails dig into the flesh of your ass, the way your tits are pressed up against each other while you grind together. His cock is so hard it feels like it’s going to pop the button on his jeans, he hastily reaches for his belt, clumsily undoing it. Then he moves onto his button and zipper, fumbling slightly, not wanting to take his eyes off the two of you. His cock finally springs free and hits his stomach, a drop of precum dripping onto his dark faded band tee. He spits in his palm before taking his cock in his hand, stroking it roughly. A moan rips through him at the feeling of finally being touched, even if it’s his own.

“Mmm look at Eddie baby…” Your head is turned towards him now as your eyes drink him in hungrily. Mina’s face leaves the crook of your neck to follow your gaze and the sight combined with just the right roll of your hips makes her whimper.

“Fuck, you like what you see, nerd boy?” She pushes your tank top up over your tits and takes them in her soft hands without breaking eye contact with him. Your hips pick up speed and you’re both so wet now that your combined juices are making the fabric of your panties stick together with each roll of your hips.

“You know I do, pretty girl.” He smirks right back, his hand still stroking his thick cock while his eyes travel over both your bodies. Her tongue licks around your areola before she takes your nipple in her mouth, causing you to gasp.

“I want more.” You whimper. She feels so good against you, but it’s not quite enough. You need to feel her. You lift your hips just enough to use your hands to push both of your panties to the side before lowering yourself back down onto her warm wet cunt. Her clit bumps against yours and you’re both so wet you practically glide against her. “Fuck, yes.”

Eddie approaches the side of the bed, taking both of your jaws in his hands, forcing you both to look up at him. “Goddamn, you guys are so fucking sexy, can you cum like that for me? If you’re good girls and make each other cum I’ll give you my cock.”

His words spur you on, your hands coming to rest on Mina’s shoulders for leverage as you grind your wet pussy against hers. She leans forward to take your nipple into her mouth, her free hand toying with your other one.

“Oh fuuuck, yes. You’re so wet baby, you feel so good. I’m gonna cum.” You press yourself down on her hard, moving your hips in a circular motion that has her clit gliding deliciously through your wet folds. Her teeth sink into the meat of your tit, sending you over the edge. Her hands grab onto your hips, guiding you against her as your high crashes over you.

“Mmm that’s it, good girl, cum for us.” She pulls off of you so she can watch your face as you fall apart on top of her.

“Your turn.” You’re still panting as you come down from your orgasm but you use one hand to shove her shirt up over her tits, your tongue immediately flicking out to lick across her perky peaked nipples. Your other hand slides between your bodies, finding her clit with ease. You grind your palm against her sensitive bud while your tongue and lips continue their assault on her nipples.

“Fuuuuuck.” You hear Eddie groan above you and your eyes snap his direction, immediately meeting his lust filled ones. His tongue darts out across his bottom lip and you can’t see from how you’re angled but the way he’s shaking you can tell he’s jerking himself off again. You can’t wait to get your hands and mouth on every inch of him too.

“Cum for me baby, I wanna hear those pretty sounds.” You insert your middle and pointer finger inside her while your palm continues its ministrations on her clit.

“Oh my fucking god, that’s so good, you’re gonna make me - I’m gonna fucking cum!” Her sharp nails dig into your ass and a pornographic moan rips through her as she cums around your fingers. You fuck her through it, leaving open mouth kisses all across her chest.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen, shit.” Eddie’s voice breaks you from your Mina induced trance and you whip your head towards him. He’s shirtless now, his jeans still hanging low on his hips, his hard leaking cock on full display.

“Mmm does that mean we earned our reward? You look damn right edible, Mr. Munson.” You smirk up at him, practically salivating at the sight of the bead of precum dripping from his slit. Eddie groans, something about you calling him that makes his cock twitch.

“Yeah, I think you earned it, Bunny. Why don’t you get over here and suck it?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You climb off Mina, crawling towards him so you can sit in front of him on your knees. She follows suit, sitting close enough to you that your bare thighs touch. Eddie feels like he’s going to fucking cum just looking at you both on your knees for him, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Take your shirts off and stick out your tongues.” You turn towards your girlfriend, grabbing the hem of her already hiked up tank top and pulling it over her head. She does the same for you and then you both turn back towards him, sticking your tongues out just like he asked. “God fucking damn, have I ever told you I’m the luckiest man to ever live? Look at my beautiful girls, waiting for me to use their little throats.”

He slaps his cock against your tongue, that bead of precum you’d been eyeing dripping into your mouth just like you wanted. He glides his tip along your tongue a few times before turning to do the same to Mina. His large ringed hands come around both your heads, gripping onto the hair at the nape of your necks.

“Keep your tongues out.” He leans over you to spit in your mouth before using the grip he has on your hair to pull your face to his cock. You take the hint, taking as much of him as you can into your mouth. You bob your head up and down while he gives Mina the same treatment above you, pulling her head down next to yours once he's done. You feel her lips traveling up your shoulder to your jaw, she leaves wet kisses across your cheek until she reaches your mouth. Her tongue darts out to lick the part of Eddie’s shaft that isn’t down your throat, curling around it.

“Holy fuuuucking shit.” Eddie groans, he uses the grip on your hair to pull both of your heads back again, looking down at you with lust filled eyes. “Be good girls for me and make out on my cock.”

Mina smirks up at him before leaning forward to lick along the side of his length, you follow her lead, running your tongue up the opposite side. You both lick all around his cock like it’s a lollipop, your tongues occasionally touching and intertwining around it. She takes his tip in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it before taking him fully down her throat with a gag. You lean down so you can kitten lick across his balls, tasting the musky saltiness that is Eddie. You suck one of them into your mouth, your tongue massaging around the soft skin before pulling off and giving the other one the same treatment.

“Shit shit shit!!!” He pulls you both off of him with a gasp. “You gotta stop or I’m gonna fucking blow my load I swear you two are little succubi.”

“Mmm… you just taste so good, we want your human essence.” You giggle up at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “You know Eds… I haven’t even gotten a kiss yet.” You pout.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Bunny, I guess I got carried away, huh? Come here.” He grabs your face in his hands, leaning down to place a kiss that was much more gentle than you were expecting on your lips. He kisses you a few times before turning to Mina and attempting to give her the same treatment. But you watch as she grabs onto his hair and tugs, pulling his face hard against her own. Her tongue licks across his lips and his darts out to meet hers. She sucks his tongue into her mouth, bringing the cinnamon gum he was chewing with her.

“You’re sweet and all, nerd boy. But I’m still really fucking horny and I believe you promised us your cock? I’d like to cash in on that now.” She bites down on his bottom lip before pulling away with a smirk, popping his gum between her teeth.

“Yeah? You want my cock? Hands and knees, both of you. I wanna try something.”

Mina pulls her thong down her legs before flipping over on her hands and knees with her back arched, her ass in the air and on full display. You do the same, wiggling your ass back and forth as you look at Eddie over your shoulder. You watch with hungry eyes as he discards his jeans. His ring adorned hand comes down on your asscheek causing you to jolt forward with a yelp.

“Look at these perfect fucking assess, and they’re all mine…”

He pumps his cock a few times before running it through your slick folds, dipping the tip inside of your entrance before slapping it against your clit.

“Eddieeee…” you whine and wiggle your ass again, pushing back against him.

“Aww is a little Bunny feeling greedy?” You can hear the dumb smirk in his voice but you don’t have time to talk back before he’s shoving himself balls deep inside of you, knocking the air from your lungs. The stretch is so good, every single time. No matter how many times he fucks you it’s like he’s filling you up just right.

He starts fucking into you rough and fast, his grip on your hip is so tight that you hope the ring indents that had started to fade from last time are even darker than before. His free hand comes down hard on Mina’s asscheeks in succession before he’s soothing it with his palm and running his thick fingers through her dripping slit. He inserts two fingers inside her and starts to fuck her with them in tandem with the thrusts of his cock inside you.

“Fuck bunny, you’re so wet, this little pussy is squeezing me so tight.” The hand on your hip finds your clit, applying a delicious amount of pressure while he continues to bury himself deep inside you.

“Baby, gimme a kiss.” Mina’s voice almost sounds like it’s underwater with how close you are to cumming but you turn your face towards her. She grabs your jaw in one of her hands and smashes your lips together in a desperate moan filled kiss. Her tongue slips between your lips, exploring every inch, the gum she had just taken from Eddie’s mouth slips into your own and it still somehow tastes cinnamony sweet.

“I’m gonna c - cum, I’m gonna cum.” Your words are slurred against her lips, Eddie hits that perfect spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“Yeah baby? You gonna cum? Mi, why don’t you be a good girl and cum for me too?” Eddie continues his assault on your g-spot while his skilled fingers curl just right inside your shared girlfriend's cunt. It only takes a few more pumps of his cock to send you over the edge, Mina tumbling over her own right after you.

Eddie fucks you both through your highs before pulling his fingers away, he uses his other hand to grip onto your hair and pull your back flush against his chest.

“Suck.” He brings the slick covered digits to your mouth and you greedily take them in, tasting your girlfriend’s sweet nectar. “Good girl.”

He releases his grip on your hair and you fall forward, catching yourself on your hands at the last minute. You go to turn around but he grips your hips, keeping you in place.

“Stay. I didn’t say you could move, did I?” He smacks your ass before turning to Mina, roughly gripping her hips. “You want my cock now, kitty? I think you’ve earned it.”

“Just fuck me already, Munson.” Normally Eddie would take the time to tease her for her attitude, make her beg a little, but he’s so fucking hard he needs to be inside of her, right now. He grabs onto his cock, lining it up with her puffy lips, he pushes himself all the way inside of her in one thrust, throwing his head back when she clenches around him.

“You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?” He leans over her so his lips brush against the shell of her ear, trailing a few kisses down her throat. He stops at the juncture of her throat, sinking his teeth down onto it while he starts to fuck into her roughly.

“Yeah, but you fucking love it.” Her chuckle turns into a strangled moan when he wraps a hand around her throat, his cock pounding into her so deep she can feel him hitting her cervix.

You look over at them and you can’t help but moan at the sight. Eddie’s head is thrown back, revealing the expanse of his thick throat, a layer of sweat covers his inked chest and he’s growling almost animalistically. Mina’s face is slightly red from the way she’s being choked, a bit of drool is dripping from the corner of her mouth and her tits are bouncing deliciously. You want to lean down and suck them, and lick the drool off her chin but you also want to be a good girl and for Eddie so you decide to stay put.

And damn does it pay off, because one second he’s pounding into your girlfriend like his life depends on it and next thing you know he’s pulling out of her and thrusting deep inside you. He’s fucking you as hard as he was fucking her, picking up the pace he left off on. He thrusts into you a few more times before he’s pulling out and plunging back into Mina. He continues like this for a bit, fucking deeply into one of you before switching off and giving the other the same treatment. The room is filled with the sounds of your moans and slapping skin, and in the back of your mind you’re thankful that the girl next door moved out last week.

“My good fucking girls, letting me use your little holes like this, you’re so fucking good for me. Fuck!” Eddie pumps his into your girlfriend deep and hard, before pulling out and plunging into your wet, waiting heat. “Mi, go get in front of Bunny so I can watch her eat that pretty little pussy from the back while I fill her up with my cum.”

She’s past the point of giving him shit, so fucked out that she will do anything he asks without question. She crawls so she’s positioned on her hands and knees in front of you and your grab onto her asscheeks, spreading them apart.

“Looks so tasty…” You spread her open a few more times, watching her clench around nothing, then you lean forward and plunge your tongue as far as it can go inside of her. You fuck into her with your tongue before licking down to her clit, sucking it into your mouth.

Eddie is about to lose it, your pussy is clenching him so tight and your ass is bouncing deliciously against his hips. The sounds and the sight of you devouring your girlfriend is enhancing his pleasure by tenfold. He reaches his hand around you to rub circles on your clit, angling his hips the way he knows you love it.“Fuck baby, I’m not gonna last much longer… need you to cum for me.”

You bring two of your fingers to Mina’s entrance, pushing them inside her and curling them upwards. She pushes back against you, her pussy clenches around your fingers and you can tell she’s close too.

“Shit, I’mgonnafuckingcum.” She whimpers.

“Cum for us kitty, cum on our girl's face. I’m gonna cum too - fuckingshit.” Eddie’s thrusts get sloppy but he’s still fucking you so good, the speed of his fingers picks up on your clit and you feel his cum start to spill inside you. Mina’s pussy is like a vice grip on your fingers and the moans she’s letting out are like music to your ears. It’s all so hot and it has your own orgasm wracking through your body.

You’re all panting as you pull apart from each other, throwing yourselves down on the bed with Eddie in the middle. You both rest your heads on his shoulders, your legs thrown over each of his thighs. You and Mina absentmindedly play with each others fingers that rest on Eddie’s chest.

“I can’t fucking wait until you guys get out of here.” Eddie sighs.

“Soon baby, just one more month and this catholic collage nightmare will be over.” Your girlfriend places a gentle kiss on his peck, resting her chin there so she can look up at him.

“Then our dads will finally get off our asses and release our trust funds to us. And we can buy a nice house, and get you studio time.” You lean up to kiss his jaw, mimicking Mina’s position so you can look at his beautiful face too.

“Yeah? You guys are my certified sugar mama’s I swear.” Eddie chuckles, bringing his hands up so he can cup both of your jaws. He rubs his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks and looks into both of your eyes, placing a gentle kiss on each of your lips. He seriously was the luckiest bastard to ever live.

#eddie munson x reader #Dolly writes #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie Munson one shot #eddie munson x fem!oc #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

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jo-harrington · 2 months

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

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

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

Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.05

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

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

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

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

He was nervous.

"Stacey."

Of course he was nervous.

"Freak."

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

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

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

Sticking to the status quo.

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

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

Sunday...

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

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

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

He kissed you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And now Stacey was…being Stacey.

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

No you would never…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, you bad girl.”

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

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

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

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

---

Eddie had never been inside of your apartment before.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I fucked up and I'm sorry."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Towards your family. Towards yourself.

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

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

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

"Older brother," you nodded slowly.

"Sounds like a shithead."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But neither of you moved.

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

You talked for a majority of the drive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Uh, Eddie listen--"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He swallowed thickly and squeezed right back.

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so it began...meeting your family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he was still tempted to.

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

Regardless, it was startling to see.

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

Maybe it just hadn't hit you yet?

Alright, change of plans.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I did," he agreed.

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

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

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

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

"Good."

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

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

He squeezed your hand right back and smiled.

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It is Sunday, after all."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't like the peppers."

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

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

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

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

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

Next Part: Closing Time

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

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trashmouth-richie · 10 months

Text

CONFESSION

eddie x fem! reader

TW: no minors, heavy degrading themes of the Catholic Church, smut, corruption kink, virginity loss, Eddie posing as a priest. Slight daddy kink, rosaries not used properly. Umm yeah it’s smut p in v, cum eating. Etc

a/n: I have no words, I’ll see you in the crimsoned room of hell, or purgatory— in that case, please pray me out.

Trudging with untied boots the thud of his clunky soles echo loud in the steeped ceiling of St. Mary’s. He stubs the lit end of his joint out in the holy water, sizzling and emitting one last pathetic puff of smoke. Dipping a tattooed middle finger into the holy water he makes a lame excuse for the sign of the cross, flicking whatever remnants of moisture left into the open air. Keeping his middle finger high for the man on the cross.

Every Wednesday, Thursday and Sunday nights at 7 o'clock on the dot, he had come to the brick built and heavily waxed wooden floored church to repent.

Father Hopper had gone easy on Eddie when he found him trying to hot wire his car. Punishing him to thirty confessions stretched over two months time.

Father knew Wayne Munson was on the verge of a thin line of patience, and Eddie was on his last strike with Hawkins PD, next step was prison. A shared cell with the other Munson and ex resident of Hawkins currently known as inmate #89432.

Fuck it, I’ll go to jail what the hell do I care? Eddie spat at the rickety table in Father Hopper’s poorly lit kitchen.

“Son,” Father began, sipping a bitter cup of coffee, thumb nails scratching against the ceramic mug, “you don’t want to end up like him.”

“Well. I sure as hell ain’t gonna end up like you. White robes and that cardboard dog collar you wear— yeah fuckin’ right.”

That was back in May. What started as a desperate plea to steal a car and possibly sell it to get enough money to skip the prying eyes and whispering licks of gossip tongues about how he hadn’t graduated, again, — ended with him getting assigned the confessions.

A stuffy little closet with Hopper’s coffee breath stenching through a grated screen. The dark walls seems to close in on him as he confessed to petty crimes and sex on Sundays.

Leaning against the desk that held glass orbs of candles, he spits in the nearest one. The flame sizzling out. And that’s when he hears it.

A small giggle from the pew nearest him.

He had seen you around school. Clutching your school books to your chest as you were shoved into walls and lockers. A ghost among the popular chicks and dicks. But never to him.

He himself was an outcast and truth be told he didn’t remember the time he hawked a lougie into Jason’s milk carton and stubbed a cigarette into his hamburger after Jason had purposefully knocked your lunch tray out of your hands. The cheap plastic tray hitting the tiled floor with a clank.

He might remember but you remembered the way his smile pearled big and pretty, his long lashes dusting the tops of his cheeks as he winked your way, and the way your panties clung with wetness at your heated lips.

His whiskey dark eyes bore into your head as he says your name slow, like reciting a prayer. His long legs swing as he struts cockily towards you. Middle of the summer and he’d shed his leather armor. Red flannel open revealing a tanned tattooed chest. Sleeves cut off showcasing muscly trailer park strong arms. Jeans hacked off above the knee.

His smirk danced across his lips, tongue poking out to wet his lips. He had trouble written all over him. And damn did he wear it well.

“Don’t tell me you’re here to confess the sins committed against our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?”

Your legs cross and thighs rub together. A pulse awakening between your legs.

“Amen,” you giggle nervously, hiding behind heated cheeks.

Leaning his long frame against the edge of the pew, he throws a worn heavy boot over onto the seat, next to your clenched thighs under the white sundress.

He leans down, over his knee, his long curls dancing with his gesturing head, he’s leaning close and you can see the reds fading his eyes and the skunked smell of weed. Still that smile has you melting.

“So what are you in for? Forget to genuflect before sitting down last Sunday?”

His joke earns a smile from you and seeing your lips pull your cheeks up has him twitching in his jeans.

“No,” you roll your eyes in a girlish way, batting your lashes, “it’s not that.”

“Ah!” Eddie says jumping up, “no bother, I don’t think Father Hopper isn’t gonna show anyway.”

You don’t mean to frown and Eddie almost laughs out loud at your pout.

Strict as your parents were, they were demanding that you needed to confess for your sins. They were already pissed you skipped out on college, might as well take 10 years off school, you’ll never go, they hated your job, hated even more that you didn’t really have friends outside of the “weird Buckley girl.”

By the end of this month you’d have enough money saved up to move out, and oh how you couldn’t wait.

The dirty word slips before you catch it. Hands covering your mouth quickly, the heat on your cheeks burning deeper. You peer at Eddie with big eyes.

He cracks a slow smile and leans forward. Licking his chapped lips again. He’s so close to you you can see every eyelash in high definition.

“That’s another sin, one more and the floor will open and we’ll both be engulfed into the fiery pits of hell.”

“Actually I think it’s purgat—”

A ringed finger is placed vertically to your lips, shushing you from finishing. The satin feel of your lips on his rugged finger makes him ache against the teeth of his zipper.

Tracing your face with his eyes they dip down the slope of your nose and past the curve of your lips, the delicate pink rosary is hung on your neck with such daintiness it’s almost in open invitation.

He about chokes when the goosebumps rise on your throat from his stare, a bead of sweat trickling in between your tits.

Dark eyes swim into yours, and his smile is impish, full of wicked delight, “Let’s go.”

His hand snakes down your shoulder and he grabs your wrist in a light but thick grip. Beckoning you with a sinful smirk.

“To where?” You manage after peeling your tongue from the roof of your mouth.

“Time to confess for that dirty mouth.” Eddie says matter of fact, turning his head and dragging you to the confessional booth. “C’mon I’ll act as Father.”

Eddie pulls you into the small wooden door in the back of the church opening it for you in a gentlemanly manner ending in a bow.

He rushes you in with snapping fingers and a growl making you squeal.

Sitting behind the screen where Hopper usually sat Eddie beckons you to sit in his usual assigned seat.

He makes a backwards sign of the cross with his left hand and folds his fingers, clearly his throat and using a deep baritone voice, “tell me your sins, sweet girl.”

When you giggle, Eddie flicks the screen, “this is serious shit— confess to me.”

You begin the way your parents had you rehearse at home.

“Bless me Father— wait, should I call you that?”

“Daddy works best,” Eddie says without missing a beat. And your pussy clenches around nothing.

“Bless me,” you hesitate on the word, but Eddie raises his eyebrows to encourage you so you start again, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

“B- Bless me, Daddy, for I have sinned, my last confession was 10 weeks ago.”

“That’s a long time ago,” he tsks, berating you, “have you not sinned in these last 10 weeks?”

Fingers threading the hem of your dress you answer, “I- I have.”

Eddie palms himself at your innocence. “Well?”

“I— Eddie—”

“Excuse me? My title in this confessional is Daddy please do not make me correct you again,”

“Sorry, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” Eddie purrs. Sending shocks to your clit. “Continue.”

Clearing your throat you stroke the beads of the rosary hung against your neck. Counting ten, a small skip, another bead, then ten more.

“I was.. experimenting.”

“Drugs?” Eddie asks, chuckling in genuine shock, he didn’t think a girl like you would smoke, “yes the devils lettuce is tempting.”

He flicks his lighter open and lights another joint he had tucked in his pocket for the ride home.

“But we must stop these temptations before they start, plus who are you buying from because I need to know if I have competition.”

You move your head to the side and continue thumbing the pink pearly beads in your fingers. The clack of your nails against the beads fill the quiet smoke hung room.

“No… it wasn’t drugs.”

Eddie’s mind flips like a magazine.

“Oh yes the alcohol, another temp—”

“Wrong again.”

Eddie’s frustration peaks, “well I’m not a fucking mind reader so do you wanna explain yourself?”

“I— I was.. I was touching myself.”

“Oh fuckin, Christ..” it’s mumbled and breathy but you hear it all the same, sending a slick to your pussy from your admission and Eddie’s shock.

He’s rock hard. The zipper on his jeans scream, begging for any sort of release. He needs to know more.

“Do explain,” he says intrigued, leaning forward, his hands folded under his chin.

Adjusting yourself in the wooden chair you cross your legs, and Eddie barely witnesses the white cotton snug between your thighs, the sneak peek having him swallow hard.

Taking a breath you go into detail about the videotape you had gotten from the adult section of Family Video. How you had only watched it once and the volume was muted, but you couldn’t get it out of your mind.

The way the woman’s mouth curved into an “O” when the man was pleasuring her. The size of the man’s penis and the way it slapped against his stomach when released from his jeans. How the woman’s perked nipples were firm but looked soft against the man’s tongue.

Eddie’s drool is wiped from his mouth at your explicit confession, and he starts to palm himself over his jeans when you explain how you had started rubbing yourself over your underwear at night.

Thinking you were about to have your first ever orgasm but weren’t able to finish because your mother had walked in on you, legs spread wide on your comforter, toes curling. As you were using the barrel of a curling iron to rub at your clothed clit.

The embarrassment from repeating the story to Eddie made your cheeks heat, and you hid behind your hair.

The silence is speaking volumes. The only noise is the cream of the wooden seat as you shift again, a flutter in your stomach as Eddie thinks of his punishment for you.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, a hiss on his tongue as he moves from behind the screen, wedging himself between you and the wall, his long frame leaning against the mahogany.

Ringed fingers tapping along the plump of his lips, his hard cock outlined through his jeans, “You are a filthy, naughty girl.”

You scoff, “I am not!”

“Oh baby, you are,” Eddie says, boxing you in, “but, I know just the thing to…cleanse you of your sins.” He licks his lips again and stares you down. And you're certain you're looking into Satan’s eyes.

“Wh—” you stutter, having to clear your throat, swallowing thickly and dabbing at the sweat on your neck, “what do you have in mind?”

Eddie’s wayward curls skim the top of your chest as his lips curve around the shell of your ear, he smells like cigarettes and laundry soap, “bad girls get spanked.”

Gasping, he laughs at your shocked face. “I don’t make the rules babe, ok I made that one up, but this is for you swearing in the house of the Lord, now,” he gestures a thumb over his shoulder, “get up, you’re gonna need to be on my lap.”

You do as you're told, standing chest to chest with Eddie. Only this time it’s you licking your lips. One stretch up on tipped toes and your lips could connect with his. The faint mark of a nicotine stain paints his bottom lip. You wonder if it would taste like it.

He grabs your hips and swivels you around, his rings dig into the soft cotton on your dress, his nails scratching the fabric as he takes his seat. The wooden chair groaning on the sudden weight.

Leaning back in the chair he smiles wickedly, legs spread wide, he rubs his lap, tapping for you to come closer.

When your body is laid flat against him, you pull at the hem of your skirt to keep your modesty.

“This punishment is just for the dirty words,” Eddie explains. His ringed fingers walk along your spine, trailing down your back and up the fat of your ass.

He lays a warm hand on your cheeks and rubs it gently. Squeezing every so often.

Eddie's cock is hard under your ribs and your pussy flutters at the size of him. He hums and jiggles your ass before explaining his rules for your indiscretion, “you are going to recite The Lord’s Prayer while I spank you. Understand?”

You nod dumbly and whimper when his left hand tickles up your thighs.

“Start.” He grunts.

You begin the Lord's Prayer just like you were taught, standing before joyful cheeked families in a similar white dress on your First Communion day.

“Our Father, who art in Heaven, Hallowed be th—”

A large hand comes down hard with a thwap! on your ass cheek, sending you forward and hitting your head on the wall.

“Oh,” Eddie whispers, not hiding the smile in his voice, “if you mess up— we start over. So don’t. Unless this naughty girl enjoys being spanked by daddy? Hmm?”

You nod again and continue. Trying hard to remember where you were. Hallowed be…

“.. Thy Name, Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done. On Eart—”

Two hands smack your ass at once like sticks beating a drum. The hem of your skirt is lifted past the sheer white panties you are wearing. Reaching for the end of your dress to pull it down Eddie grabs your wrist, putting your hand back where it belongs he issued another spanking.

This time he lifts your dress fully and groans at the sight in front of him. Your plump ass has all but swallowed the see thru fabric of your panties. Eddie sucks a breath in through his teeth and places his left hand in the thick of your thighs, warmed by the heat of your arousal, his thumb rubbing small circles.

Thy Kingdom… shit.

“Thy Kingdom c—” the hardest slap yet has rained down on your nearly bare skin, and it springs tears from your eyes.

Eddie smooths over the red mark left on your skin and his tone is irate when he spits, “you already said that sweetheart, start again.”

His fingers snake further up your legs and he groans at the feel of your soaked panties on his fingertips.

You start again. And the spankings Eddie delivers are swift and merciless. The harder he spanks the more you cry out.

Sweat pools between your thighs where Eddie’s hot hand is wedged, his thumb teasing the outline of your panties and pressing soft circles into the fabric.

Tears cling to your eyelashes as your punishment comes to an end, welts forming where his rings stung and clipped you.

Words of reassurance fall from his lips after every slap and harsh whack of his hands. When Eddie leans over to catch a rogue tear from your cheek before it hits the carpet, your thighs slam together tight with a snap.

The groan he lets out is guttural and low. His cock twitches underneath you again.

“..and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil Am—- ow!”

Quick, hot tears sting your eyes. A jerk of your head reveals a sight you would never imagine seeing… let alone in a church.

Pearly, and oddly straight. The calcified and slightly sharp teeth pull out from the red, irritated skin on your ass.

“If you want to repent for your sins, you need to put your trust in me, can you do that baby… hmm? Can you listen and give yourself to me? It’s the only way you’ll be forgiven.”

A perfect dental record sunken in deep, small droplets of blood weep from the pierced flesh from his canines.

His lips are pulled back in a snarl, dark eyes gleam with a feral intensity so ferocious you’re instantly terrified. He looks like a wolf fighting for a meal.

Paralyzed with fear, your lungs spasm in shock as he flicks out his tongue, running the wet tip of the muscle along the pattern of his teeth grooved into your skin.

Each pass of his slicked tongue deepens the arousal in your lower stomach. His lips curve around the mark, kissing it better, his hooded eyes never leave yours.

You moan when the purpling bruise he’s sucking into your skin is greeted with the same poked teeth that bit you earlier.

His thick middle finger had your panties pulled to the side and your arousal is coated thick on his finger as he pushes past your puffy lips. A blunt fingernail sharp against your inner walls.

“Fuck,” he groans, dipping his finger into the impossibly tight well of your sweet pussy.

Eyes rolling into the back of your head, you mimic his moans and bite into your cheek. Hungry for the look of a broken gasp as your walls flutter and tighten around him.

World spinning and head rushing, Eddie has you upright and straddling his waist. when you start to question him he shushes you.

Taking the same finger he had plunged into your molten slicked pussy, he rubs the pad of it around your lips. Like a tube of chapstick during a cold winter, he coats them again and again, licking his own, his other hand is tight on your knee and gently skirting closer to your hip under your dress.

When he's satisfied with his art on your plump lips, he finally dives in, his breath hot on your skin and you part your mouth in a welcome for him.

But he only laughs.

A throaty chuckle that mocks you, as you wait for him to kiss you, wait for him to press his pinked lips to yours. Waiting for his tongue to devilishly lap at the corner of your mouth.

But all of his attention is zeroing down on the rosary around your neck.

Each bead is slick with sweat, warm to the touch against his thumb, as he counts them in his head, your throat gasping on each inhale. Whimpering and moving your hips against him.

Grabbing the rosary in his fist he pulls you closer to him, biting the fleshy lobe around the small gold hoops in your ears, his dick aches when you whine his name.

Huffed whispers tickle your ear and send shivers down your spine and flood your panties, “Such a dirty fucking girl, practically begging for me to fuck you.”

Another whine from your mouth and he’s bucking his hips into you, strained denim against wet lace.

“Is that what you want?” Eddie demands. His snake-like tongue tickling behind your ear, “all you have to do, is ask.”

“Please,” you beg, fingers curling into the flannel of his shirt, head thrown back as he circles your neck and paints hickies with his tongue.

“Not good enough, baby. Tell me how bad you want this little virgin hole filled.”

His hand finds it way under your skirt to the desperate slick of your panties, his fingers sliding around and making slow figure eights against your clit.

Tits bouncing as you move against his hand, hopelessly with no words you beg him with your body to give you relief. You whine again embarrassed to ask for what you craved, the sin that brought you here to begin with.

When you don’t say anything he retreats his hand. And you try to chase it as it slips away, you whimper pitifully again, and finally succumb to his demands.

All embarrassment gone as you beg him, plead for his cock, “Eddie, please.. please.. I’ve been so good,” you oughta be ashamed of yourself but you couldn’t care less— if he could make you feel this good by barely touching you, you’d be on your way to that glorified “O” in no time, and you can practically hear the Hallelujah chorus.

He chuckled cockily at your pleas, but shushes you as he unthreads his belt, and almost chokes when you gasp in awe at his thick veiny cock, slapping up to his belly with a thump and the pearling bead of cum seeping from the slit.

His thick ringed hand pumps himself as he lines himself up with your swollen pussy. And when you sink down he slams himself home and you clench around him, a scream escaping your slack mouth.

He groans low, trying to even out his breathing around your pretty gasps and breathy moans.

“You’re gonna keep my cock warm before I fuck you like the slut you wanna be for me,” he chides, concentrating hard on on anything other than the tight walls of your pussy gripping him. “This is the rest of your punishment… you pray a Hail Mary and warm my cock, no whining, no moaning.”

You whimper as his cock stretches you out, practically biting a hole in your bottom lip as you taste yourself from where he painted them with your own arousal earlier.

A loud slap to your ass and you’re jolting forward, your rosary tight in Eddie’s fist as he brings you down to his lips, “start praying or I’ll go home.”

“Hail Mary,” you begin, the same way you started before, only this time the pressure was never lifted, your pussy full of him, and his tongue hot and feverish on your neck, teeth grazing your skin ever so lightly.

He’s teasing you and trying to get you to break, he thumbs over your nipples until they’re peaked and sore in his pinched grip.

When you get halfway through the sacred prayer, your pussy aches and drips down to his balls. His tongue is lazily working a red and purple ‘E’ into the fat of your tit, one hand still holding the rosary tight against your neck.

You’re on the verge of breaking when you suck him in deeper, pushing your walls around him and kegeling him in a death trap. He mins and curses the lord’s name, and he finally snaps.

Bangs slicked with sweat and stuck heavy against forehead, he grunts, “Holy Mary Mother of God.” And you’re hiked upwards.

The screen you confessed your sins to with Eddie on the other side only a half hour ago, is now pressed tight against your ass as Eddie hammers his cock into your slicked and aching pussy.

The moan you elicit is toe curling, borderlining pornographic as the thick head of his clock slams into a spot you were unaware of reaching again and again.

“Pray for us sinners… fuck this pussy is so tight… now and at the hour of our death,” Eddie whimpers into your shoulder before biting down hard.

And when you yell out an amen your fluttering gummy walls spasm with joyful relief. Coating you and Eddie both with hot arousal as it seeps from you.

And the lips you’ve been staring at all night finally touch yours.

A bruisingly, sore puncture of lust filled kisses that would have your lips resembling a baboon’s ass for days.

He’s babbling now as your feet are wrapped right around his waist, his hands wiggling into his curls and yanking harder sends him over the edge.

He drops you onto your knees and opens your mouth with a press of his thumb on your bottom lip, when your tongue is out, and waiting for his cum, he jerks his cock once more and shudders when the hot ropes leave him and drip on your tongue and lips.

“Body of Christ,” Eddie says with a smirk, shutting your mouth for you and watching you swallow his load. He expects you to gag, possibly spit it out at him like the other girls would.

But when you lick your lips and utter a seductive, “Amen.” Eddie knows he’d never get out of confession for the rest of his life.

😅hmmm yeah ily there will be a part 2

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie smut #corruption kink!#daddy!eddie munson

899 notes · View notes

prettyboyeddiemunson · 2 years

Text

main masterlist!

these fics/concepts are all smut, unless otherwise stated. MINORS DNI with the smut fics, or with this masterlist!!

fics/blurbs.

*•.¸♡ ✧ eddie munson x fem!reader:

fic series: when i think about you, i touch myself | part one - part two | call me

blurb: two can play

blurb: just keep driving

blurb: stress relief

blurb: you wreck me, baby.

headcanons: eddie touching himself.

blurb: looks that kill. (rockstar steddie x groupie reader)

*•.¸♡ ✧ steve harrington x eddie munson (steddie/steveddie):

fic: holy diver

blurb: eddie tops steve (smut prompt request)

blurb: eddie punishes steve for teasing (smut prompt request)

blurb: eddie goes down on steve

blurb: eddie rails steve in the rv

concepts.

*•.¸♡ eddie munson x fem!reader:

reader with nipple piercings & a flustered eddie

eddie going down on you with a tongue piercing

eddie with a vibrating tongue piercing

sitting on eddie's face while you smoke weed

having sex with eddie to love bites by def leppard

having sex with eddie to dazed and confused by led zeppelin

eddie fingers you at dinner and meets you in the bathroom

you touch yourself and eddie guides you though it

wearing lingerie for eddie | his reaction to new lingerie

eddie notices your nipple piercings & smut ensues

you & eddie have fun on-stage after one of his shows

eddie with virgin!reader

riding eddie on his dungeon master throne

reader goes down on eddie with a tongue piercing

eddie munson is a boob dude

eddie is the type of man who loves eating pussy

eddie & best friend!reader discover something

reader can only get off without toys while high

you & eddie have fun on a dock at lover's lake

eddie gets a tongue piercing just to go down on you

eddie with a breeding kink

smoking with eddie

eddie going nuts over your nipple piercings

reader has nipple piercings & a clit piercing that eddie adores

taking a bath with eddie

eddie loves it when you wear docs

eddie enjoys the fact that you have matching jewelry

eddie ties his hair back before going down on you

eddie says "i love you" for the first time during sex

mechanic!eddie comes to your rescue

eddie rocks a cropped white tank top & nipple piercings to school

reader touches herself & cums while sucking eddie off

you help eddie pass his final

eddie's polaroid collection

eddie fucks you while you wear his dio vest

virgin!eddie cums in his pants as he eats you out

eddie wants to see how you get yourself off

you make eddie play guitar while you ride him

eddie wants you to take all of his cum | a similar concept | how big is eddie?

eddie leaves marks all over you

eddie loves face sitting

eddie gets possessive when you wear his deodorant

eddie puts your panties on his mic stand

eddie fucks your throat

how the different eddies would be with a signature move

you confess to eddie that you've never cum before

riding subby!eddie

eddie dealing with an impatient lover

eddie and catholic!reader have fun at a party.

catholic!reader is jealous of someone flirting with eddie.

perv!reader with eddie.

perv!eddie discovers your adult films for the first time.

eddie makes catholic!reader recite his own ten commandments.

eddie & catholic!reader try anal.

best friend!eddie comes for a visit.

you catch eddie jerking off backstage.

non-smut concepts.

eddie is overprotective of you

you & your best friend eddie share your first kiss together

dustin walks in on you & eddie doing self-care

eddie gives you his favorite ring

you recognize eddie from corroded coffin

eddie as a father | taking his daughter to see the lotr films

dancing with eddie in his room

the jocks break eddie's window

eddie gives you a piggyback ride

you & eddie have a moment in the cafeteria

eddie wants to win you back after you get with steve (nsfw mentions)

you & eddie flirt during d&d which annoys the others

steve accidentally tells eddie that he loves him (steddie/steveddie)

steve kisses eddie to shut him up (steddie/steveddie)

*•.¸♡ steve harrington x eddie munson (steddie/steveddie):

steve says something weird during sex

eddie sees steve in the scoops ahoy uniform

steve accidentally tells eddie that he loves him

steve kisses eddie to shut him up

*•.¸♡ steve harrington x eddie munson x reader:

eddie won't shut up while steve works on you

you & eddie give steve a show after a game of strip poker

steve & eddie surprise you with a vibrator.

eddie & steve jerk each other off as they eat you out.

eddie tells you & steve what to do as he watches you.

#it isn't the most aesthetically pleasing BUT IT WILL DO #i'll also update it as i post more stuff!#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #steveddie #steddie #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine

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thornsnvultures · 5 months

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blessing

demon!eddie munson x nun!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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eddiemunsonhotgf · 2 years

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first kiss on the cheek! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ (short hc fluff!)

he knows ur not used to the feeling so he decides to take his time ! even w the first kiss on the cheek :( u've been kissed on the cheek by some of ur friends, girls ! but never by a boy and oh boy ! it gets him excited !

maybe maybe maybe this wld happen after you finish all the bible study u haven't been able to finish. he wld wait for u in the room, laying on your bed full of stuffies ! u can't help but giggle from time to time at how cute he looks ! photo worthy !

he's just so proud of you for overtaking, that he's not able to contain himself ! he needs to get his hands on you but he wants to go slow. he wants to enjoy every stage of the relationship u both have :( so the first thing he does after u've finished ? he gives u a kiss on the cheek !! containing himself so he doesn't go any further.

he got so close to u. ur smell, ur skin ! everything made him craze. you looked like an angel, you just missed a halo. a wingless angel !

"mwwa!" there was a silence. u didn't rly know how to respond :( all reddened for him "here's for my good girl! is that okai? if i kiss u on the cheek?" trust me he wld need a lot of reassurance once he makes a further move ! he doesn't wnt to ruin something w the girl of his dreams. he wld actually go crazy if he evr loses u :(

it was a natural reaction from his body due to the proudness he felt by you being able to catch with all the hw u were given over the last few days :( he was just so so proud of u !

if he had to associate you with absolutely anything at the moment, a tomato was the only answer he'd be able to give ! so blushy n flushed !

"e-eds!"

"'m just so proud of u, doll!" he tries to give grounds for his actions, which were well enough justified cuz they were true ! it just came natural !

(i know this is not wht anon rly asked 4 but the first kiss on the cheek made me absolutely melt !! aaa he wld b so gentle n caring. thank u sm to the anon who sent this ! love u ! mwwa! )

#eddie munson #perv!eddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #innocent!catholic!reader

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violettaskies · 1 year

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To Share A Kiss The Devil Has Known

(ch. 1)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x you // Eddie Munson x f!reader // perv!Eddie Munson x innocent!reader

Genre: romance, mild smut, Catholic trauma, religious trauma, friends to lovers, slow burn

Notes: this will have a three installments // this chapter is just the intro honestly lol so sorry if it’s boring build up // Eddie is kinda pervy lol // he’s kinda dark but also not // i tried to write him to be as much of a consent king as possible

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // talks of religion, reader goes to confession and her priest is a little mean with his words (at the beginning), slight manipulation, pillow humping, humping, first times, dacryphilia, corruption kink, praise kink // masturbation //please let me know if there should be more added, thank you!

ao3 // chapter two // chapter three // masterlist // series masterlist

-:-:-:-:-

Every other Sunday was for confession. While other members of the family went on Wednesdays or Saturdays, you always chose Sundays since it would start the week off on a clean slate.

Not that there was much to confess about. Oftentimes, you would walk from your house to the church a few hours after mass ended, maybe feeling a bit guilty about your thoughts, rarely was it ever your actions. One day, you came in to tell the priest about how angry you got at your parents when they grounded you for accidentally falling asleep in church. You didn’t lash out at them, of course; but, you did curse them in your head — not honouring thy father and mother very well.

Then there was an instance three years ago at the homecoming dance. One girl had on the most beautiful baby blue dress you had ever seen, while you were stuck with a hand-me-down gown of the same colour. You prayed aloud that night in front of your bed, that you would one day have the opportunity to wear a dress as nice as hers. But the prayer backfired when your mother overheard, then told you to march to the church the following morning to confess how you broke the tenth commandment of coveting thy neighbour’s goods.

As a whole, you thought there were never any major moments in your life where you sinned gravely. That was until you went to your friend’s house for Bible study on Saturday night. She hosted it weekly, and invited all the kids from school. Needless to say, only a handful of people appeared. Not that it wasn’t fun, the six of you would always spend a few hours going over passages, and then eat a nice dinner afterwards. Truly, you looked forward to it since there weren’t other things you were invited to in town.

So when this past Saturday rolled around where the first epistle to the Corinthians was read, specifically the sixth chapter and eighteenth verse — your group started to analyze it as normal. But, little did you know that this was the day your heart would drop the hardest it ever has.

‘The sexually immoral person sins against their own body,’ the people in the room repeated the verse over and over, like a chant taunting you and your actions.

It was the first time you walked into the confessional on a Sunday afternoon with shaky legs and an intensely beating heart. You told the priest what you told your friend, trying to rid yourself of the sins you unknowingly committed. But he stopped you, his voice only getting louder as he gave you guidance on your next steps. ‘Stop doing that,’ he said, ‘God may not be so quick to forgive you if you give into the Devil’s temptations so often.’ Then after he assigned you a penance of five Hail Marys and going through the rosary twice, you were gone.

All you could think as you took your first steps outside, were words that should never cross your mind. Not now, not ever.

If sinning is so bad, then why does it feel so good?

-:-:-:-:-

As the day ended, and a new week of school began — your guilt never went away. Teasing you from the back of your subconscious as you walked home, ate dinner, and failed at doing some homework that was due a few days later.

It had been three days since the last time you unknowingly sinned, two days since you found out what it was, and one day since the priest’s voice scared you to the point of no return. Everything affected you gravely, that even once you walked into school Monday morning, the noises from the other students became a muffled and chaotic mess in your ears. So much so, that as you were shakily getting things out of your locker, you didn’t even notice movement from the one next to yours.

“You look stressed, sweetheart.” The voice startled you, only amplifying your inner-guilt, since you spent the past few moments focusing on shutting the voices up in your head, rather than greeting your favourite locker neighbour.

But what made you feel guiltiest of all, was that he is the one who inspired these sins of yours.

The throbbing ache between your legs felt good, and the way your pillow helped relieve that ache felt even better. If you were able to feel this level of delight every night, then why not think of someone who made you feel the same way? — the question plagued your mind nightly, during the moments you were oblivious to committing a sin.

Little did you know that it was truly sexual in meaning.

There was only one person who made you feel equally as amazing with their words and actions. Your locker neighbour to the right, Eddie Munson.

Several moments replayed in your head. Like the time he kept calling you ‘pretty girl’ because you decided to wear a skirt on the first day of Spring. Then, you remember how his calloused fingers felt when they were so close to your face after he brushed your hair from your neck; making sure to linger on your sensitive skin before mentioning how beautiful the silver crucifix looked on you. There were so many times after that too. From his deep voice whispering in your ear to ask if you needed a ride home while you both were in study hall; to his arms wrapping a sweater around your shoulders during lunch when the school’s heater broke. The Hawkins townspeople claimed him as a spawn of the Devil, but you named him as the only true friend you had. The only person to make the butterflies in your stomach tingle every time he spoke to you.

“I-I’m not, it’s just I can see now why Mondays aren’t people’s favourite,” you responded, still staring into the vastness of your locker. Thinking about how your start to the week wasn't so great as it usually is.

Eddie had opened the metal door completely, removing the barrier between the two of you. “But, Mondays are always your favourite because you get to see me after a painstakingly long forty-eight hours,” he pouted while trying to get you to giggle at his dramatics.

It worked.

“Well, I normally see you around the fourth period. This is the earliest you’ve been at school for a while.”

“Mondays are the worst because my homeroom teacher loves putting tests at the buttcrack of dawn,” Eddie groaned, while holding up the notes you loaned him at the beginning of the year since you already took the biology course before.

“Well, good luck, I’m gonna go—” no matter how much you loved talking to him, and how warm he made you feel, Eddie was part of your current predicament. So seeing him now made your heart ache in the worst way.

As you went to grab the locker door to close it, Eddie lightly grabbed your wrist. “I saw you leaving the church yesterday. You looked so,” he paused, moving his head downwards to meet you at eye-level, before continuing. “Sad, you looked so sad. I even called out your name a few times so I could give you a ride home, but you kept walking, so I assumed you didn’t hear me.”

So it was the Devil’s spawn shouting your name as you made your way home; not the Devil himself making you feel guilty for your actions. It was just your friend who wanted to look out for you.

Eddie continued: “or maybe you’re ignoring me,” he pouted with feign-sadness.

“Oh, uh-uhm it was just a really tiring day and I guess the voices in my head were too loud,” it was only partially a lie.

“If something’s bothering you—”

“Nothing’s bothering me, honestly,” this one was a lie, and it came out a bit too easily. But all you could focus on now was the feeling of Eddie’s thumb stroking small circles on the soft skin of your wrist.

He looked you up and down suspiciously before saying, “you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I do.”

“So whatever is going through your mind, let me know. Who am I to judge anyways?” He winked before letting go of your wrist.

You nodded, seriously contemplating if you wanted to have a confessional with your little Devil. Just as you stared at him with eyes full of conflict, the bell rang. Instead of responding, you softly said your farewell. “Anyways, see you later during fourth period, if you decide to come again.”

It was the only class Eddie had a perfect attendance score in, but he would never let you know that you’re the reason why.

-:-:-:-:-

By the time English class rolled along, you didn’t realize just how much your body was moving itself robotically. Going through the movements you’ve been so used to doing for the years you’ve been in high school. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, thankfully. First period was a calculus lesson, history happened afterwards with a lecture on the French Revolution, then a substitute showed up for geography during third period so that was a boring class. All throughout those hours, you kept quiet; because the wrath of the Angel on your shoulder, condemning you for your sins, was becoming far too much. To even think about answering questions the teachers asked was mentally exhausting.

It all came to a peak once you sat on your chair for fourth period English — the only class you had with Eddie this semester, and of course, the only class everyone sat at long desks that held two people. As you looked out the window to the dark blue skies of Autumn, your conscience kept telling you to be careful. You were about to sit next to the boy who amplified your senses as you sinned. Goodness knows how he’ll react to the news if you told him.

What would he think if he found out you think about his hands helping guide your hips nightly, or his voice telling you ‘you’re so beautiful’ when you finally find the climax of your relief, or his lips kissing your —

“You’re still so tense,” the voice brought you out of your haze for the second time today. But this time, Eddie’s warm hand was on the top of your left thigh; the set of thighs you unknowingly went from bouncing one second to squeezing together the next.

“Just tired, maybe I’ll nap when I get home,” you sighed. Truly, it has been three days since the bane of your guilt was committed. You could barely sleep now that you’ve stopped doing your nightly routine.

“Take a nap in my van, I have cute pillows in there,” he scrunched his nose as he teased you, then released your thigh to stretch his arms in the air.

Thinking of how your class went to the zoo for a field trip once, and Eddie found the scariest-looking bats cute, you replied sweetly: “your definition of cute is not really the same as mine.”

“But, I think you’re cute, don’t you?” Eddie loved to make you blush with his not-so-suave comments. Said it was practice for whenever he goes to the bars and flirts with girls there. But he never was able to make them flustered in the way you always were.

You saw the teacher walk into class in your peripheral vision, and prayed that would mean you didn’t need to talk to your locker and desk neighbour for the next three quarters of an hour. “I’m not,” you shyly say while looking away from The Dealer completely.

“You’re such a good girl too,” his voice was deeper than normal.

He was wrong. So wrong. The guilt in your heart only deepens as his words echo in your ear, along with the voices of your priest telling you need to repent for your sins. If this day couldn’t have gotten any worse, of course the muse of your sinful thoughts believes you’re a good girl when you aren’t.

“I-I’m—” your words are saved by the bell and your teacher’s voice which booms through the classroom. You thought you were safe, thought that until lunch you could get away with not looking at the boy who makes you unknowingly rub your legs together. But no, the day that was going downhill, just hit rock bottom.

“This class is a bit different, it will be a work period since I’m assigning you a small project due Wednesday. That’s not a lot of time, so today will be a work period then tomorrow we will have a lesson. I hope that you all can get the project finished after school over the next couple days.”

Doing a small project wouldn't be so bad, would it? The curiousity sat in your brain momentarily before your thoughts went haywire. The teacher paired you off, specifically with the people you were sitting next to, where each duo would need to analyze and present a different chapter of The Picture of Dorian Gray. So after a beat of silence once the teacher’s explanation was over, the class erupted in murmured voices and squeaky chairs. But you couldn’t get yourself to move to face your project partner.

“Don’t kill me but, we may need to finish this tonight because tomorrow—”

“You have your g-gig, I remember,” spreading out your time with Eddie would have helped your intensifying sinful thoughts subside. At least until you got over your bad habit. But now, you both had to do this for your grades — mainly his — so there was no time to lose. Maybe this could be a positive distraction.

“How about we work on it today right after school so we can get it over with?” he suggests.

“Alright, I guess skipping band practice one time wouldn’t be so bad,” you start shaking your left leg again. If you were a sinner, why not fall down the path of delinquency — your tendency to accept defeat a little too quickly, and then spiral, was catching up to you now.

Eddie notices, and touches your thigh again to calm you down like he has so many times before, even a few minutes ago. Although now, you move your leg away from his grip. “No, no, no, you go be a good girl and head to band practice, then I’ll pick you up afterwards and we'll run to the library,” he says trying not to sound disappointed that you backed away from his touch.

“I’ll finish probably a little after half-past three today since there’s only one song to practice,” you state while opening the book to the assigned chapter. “What will you do while you wait?”

“Oh, you know, maybe do some buying and selling,” The Dealer says nonchalantly.

“Shopping?” you ask innocently.

“Of sorts,” he mimes the act of smoking a joint in your direction, and you look at him curiously before understanding what he meant. You remember your father telling you it’s not a good idea to be friends with your locker neighbour because he’s a sinner who does the Devil’s drugs.

Guess he rubbed off on you, while you rubbed off on something else.

The pang of guilt hit you again. Like a stab to the heart from God himself. Tonight, you’ll do penance until you sleep, before the Devil on your shoulder tells you to commit your sinfully bad habit again. “R-right,” you say quietly. “Let’s get started then, you have to stay focused, Eddie, do you promise?”

“Pinky promise, my dear,” he grabs your fingers that are so much smaller than his, and hooks his pinky onto yours. “Only if you promise to focus too. You’ve been zoning out all day long. When you walk from class to class it looks like you’re constantly about to puke.”

“I do not,” you say in a defiant whisper.

“So do,” he teases. “Listen, if I promise to stay focused the entire time while we try and finish this project, you’re gonna tell me why you’re acting this way. It’s worrying me.”

You pause, looking at Eddie’s weirdly mischievous eyes as he starts to rub the bottom of your back. “There’s nothing really bothering me, though.”

“You’re lying, aren’t you, pretty girl?” his fingers started circling in a pattern that brought pleasurable shivers up your spine. After years of giving you featherlight touches — because that’s what friends do, he said one day — he knew exactly where to grasp your body to make you relax.

“Let me think about it,” you slightly give in. However, you can’t get yourself to admit, again, how badly you want to confess your sins to the one who inspired them.

He notices how you started to squeeze your thighs together again during this class. “That’s all I ask,” Eddie chuckles before moving his hands to your waist to move your body closer to himself. “Now, don’t kill me again, but I didn’t read the chapter. Or the book, so,” he elongated the last word while looking at you with feign-innocence with his doe eyes and pursed lips.

One thing you unknowingly did admit, was just how easily you were able to fall for his manipulative ways.

-:-:-:-:-

As Eddie waited in his van for you to come out of band practice, all he could think about was how strange you’ve been acting throughout the day. You were always one to talk to him in shy tones as he would talk your ear off in any given conversation. Today was different though, and he wasn’t able to place a finger on it. What hurt him most was when you reacted to his touch by moving your leg away — a move you haven’t done in the years you had gotten used to his touch. Then, you didn’t join him for lunch like you did every Monday and Friday, since the other days you would be asked to join the band or church group tables.

Something was off, and Eddie feels like it has something to with the downcast image of you walking through Hawkins on Sunday afternoon. Today, he was going to figure it out.

Ever since the man found out his locker was next to yours on the first day of Freshman year, The Dealer became obsessed with you. Not that you noticed him often — Eddie was notorious for skipping class so much that even though you went to your locker between every class, you would only see him once a day during that year of high school. However, he definitely noticed you: your shyness, the way you kept your head down as you roamed the hallways to the next period, and how you had a tendency of jumping a little every time you closed your locker and saw him standing there at his.

The small silver crucifix that was dangling on your neck was the icing on the cake for Eddie. Realizing then, that you were an innocent Angel who went to Bible study and mass every week. While he could only ask God why He put him in such a shitty place with even shittier parents.

Your innocence astounded him — like when people would joke around about how you didn’t know what sex was, all you would do is blush; or how one time a Senior basketball player walked up to your locker and invited you on a date. He was infamous for keeping a list of all the girls he took the virginities of, and you were his next target. The only thing you did though, was thank him and tell him that Bible study was scheduled to be a long one this week so you would rather go to that.

Something possessive leaped out of Eddie that day as he overheard the conversation from behind the metal door. He had to have you, had to know what it was like to roam your mind. He would do anything to make sure you were his.

So he did. Slowly, as the days passed, he would start talking to you more, trying to get you out of your little shell. You were so quiet that sometimes he would need to get close to your figure as you spoke — not that he minded of course. Eddie genuinely did love your innocence and how you didn’t even realize that he was being a flirtatious pervert when he complimented you. That every time he mentioned you were wearing something nice that day, he would go home and picture fucking you in only that piece of clothing or jewelry. His favourite, being the image of you wearing only that tiny silver crucifix you both loved so much.

Then there were the touches you had grown accustomed to. Eddie would invite you to sit with him during lunch — where he would lightly touch your fingers as he went to steal a fry off your tray. Afterwards, he would take his perverted compliments further, by straightening out the fabric of your skirt or shirt collar for you even if it just came from the dry cleaners. The Dealer would do anything to have an excuse to caress your skin for one moment.

You had asked him one day when you had visited his home to watch a movie: “you touch me a lot, why?”

“Do you not like it? Sorry, I just really enjoy—” if he wasn’t already worried about the fact that you were in his trailer for the first time, his heart dropped at the thought that you might hate him for his touch.

“No,” you would never want to make Eddie feel guilty for his actions. Youth group lessons taught you better than that, since it was only right to be accepting of everyone. “What I mean is, I don’t see many other friends do that with each other and I feel bad for them.”

It was his turn to be curious now. “What do you mean?”

“Your touches are nice, Eddie, so soft and sweet. I wish that all people would feel as nice as this with their friends too.” Look at you being charitable with your experiences — when these touches were only meant for you.

“That’s what friends do, they find ways to make their friends feel good.”

“Do you want me to do it for you too?” you reach out to touch his shoulder awkwardly, but you weren’t one to enjoy touching other people yourself.

“Not if you don’t want to. You make me feel good by being there for me when I need it. While I do the same for you, when you need someone to support you,” it’s true; even through all his indecent intentions, Eddie truly found an innocent and friendly warmth within himself for you, besides his love of wanting to be more than friends.

You look at him with sweet eyes to innocently ask the next question. “Then may you please rub my back like you do sometimes? It makes my heartbeat calm down and this movie is scary.”

“Of course, Angel,” it was right then, Eddie realized how much he loved it when you were needy.

“I wish I could have you do this whenever my cousins want to watch horror movies with me. Honestly, my parents don’t even know I’m here. But I just like your tou–”

“Tsk tsk, so naughty. Where do they think you are?”

“Am not,” you exclaimed and Eddie could tell your heart was beating a lot faster than before so he started to rub sweet circles on your back. “Plus, they think I’m watching a movie at a friend’s house, just don’t know who. It’s not a lie. I’m still a good girl.”

“Yes, you are,” he proclaimed deeply, realizing his rebel tendencies have inspired you. While you nearly moaned as your heartbeat stabilized, his touch and his voice made you feel so much better.

When Eddie was home alone that night, he couldn’t stop replaying the small whimpers of yours he memorized. If it was the hormones, or your innocent eagerness to be alone with him and let him touch you — he would never know which one he loved more.

Eddie was a sinner, he knew that, and was able to empower himself with the label. No matter how many times people around Hawkins would rebuke him as the Devil, or how often he would get stares from kids at school as he started to talk to you more: none of it phased him. What he loved most about you was how easily your innocence became obliviousness when it came to his sins – that you would hear about them and refuse to believe he was such a bad person because he was always so nice to you. Eddie couldn’t seem to understand why.

What he did understand though, was that his biggest sin was that every damn day of his life he was on the path of no return when it came to wanting to corrupt your virtue. To make all of his fantasies become a reality as he wanted to slowly make you addicted to him.

Did you figure it out? Is that why you were so awkward with him throughout the day? Why did you beg for his familiar touch in his memories, but pull away today?

Eddie’s mind moved at a million miles a minute, unsure of what was going on. But one thing was for sure: he was going to find out exactly what was hurting you, and he was going to do everything in his power to relieve that pain.

A small tap on the driver door window brought him out of his overstimulated thoughts. “Are you ready to go?” Your voice was muffled by the barrier, but Eddie was able to hear you before nodding.

He chuckled at your tendency to knock everywhere before you entered. Even with the van, you never approached it first unless he was already in it, or opened the door for you — that was mainly because The Dealer wanted to have some semblance of being a gentleman to you, even if he took that opportunity to touch your back to guide you into your seat.

“So the library?” Eddie asked as he watched you put your bag on the floor and straighten your skirt in the seat, not looking him in the eye as you respond.

“Y-yeah, it probably won’t be crowded since it’s a Monday.”

You were wrong, so wrong. It looks like all of the English teachers assigned similar group projects to their classes, since the library was filled to the brim with students from all grades cooped up at tables. You started to get nervous, the library was going to be your saving grace as you worked on this project.

“Should we go to my place?” He asked while tugging on the strap of your backpack lightly to get your attention.

“No,” you exclaimed a little too loudly, shocking Eddie a bit. “We can j-just go to mine instead.”

If you two finished the tasks at his trailer, then you felt as if it was walking into the Devil’s lair — a place where Eddie sinned like your parents said he did. The memories of the times your friend made you feel warm were enough to commit your treacherous acts; goodness knows how you’ll be when you’re in a room where everything is him.

While bringing the Devil reincarnate into your home wasn’t the best idea, your house had your Bible and other religious paraphernalia to protect you from giving into temptation. But, that’s also the place where you committed your unknowing sin, night after night — you thought.

These conflicting thoughts were about to be the death of you, as long as the annoying throbbing between your legs and Eddie’s teasingly sinister voice didn’t get you first.

-:-:-:-:-

555 notes · View notes

silkscream · 2 years

Text

𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 (𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭)

ੈ✩ pairing: eddie munson x reader

ੈ✩ summary: still you sit with him in a church parking lot, acting like you’re not falling for it. (until you do.)

ੈ✩ warnings: smut (18+), fingering, slight dacryphilia, drug use, (protected) high sex, car sex, a little blood, not edited

ੈ✩ wc: 4.6k

Hawkins was always unpredictable – you knew this – from rumors of Satanic rituals to alien conspiracies to government experiments on children. Tonight, however, it's the weather that annoys you, the inklings of autumn teasing your bare legs despite the fact that it’s the middle of July. It doesn’t particularly help that the midnight rendezvous you’re making tonight is taking place in a church parking lot, of all places. The cool, late summer breeze seems to trickle into your pores to make your insides shudder. Sighing, you walk forwards, eyes scanning the stained glass windows high above you.

When you open the door to Eddie Munson’s striped van, he salutes you with two fingers nestling a Marlboro red. With something in between a sarcastic smile and a grimace, you return the gesture.

“Munson.”

“Y/L/N,” he nods. You roll your eyes as you shut the door behind you. With an exhale, you pick the skin of your cuticles until it stings, wincing when the skin breaks.

Uncharacteristically, Eddie’s radio plays a low reverberated hum of dream-pop chords from the speakers. When you turn the knob of the stereo, you can’t help but grin when you hear Cocteau Twins’ “Sugar Hiccup”, Elizabeth Fraser’s nonsensical drawl lowering your blood pressure instantly.

“Thought you didn’t like this shit. When I put this on you were like, what’s the point of writing a song that’s fuckin’ unintelligible?” you tease, poking Eddie’s arm.

“I still think that,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s your cassette. You left it here.”

“And you’re still listening to it.”

“Yeah, whatever, princess.”

You’d never admit that maybe you left your cassette in his van on purpose, just so you could have a possible excuse to see him again. Your love-hate relationship with Eddie manifested after Chrissy’s death – you and Hawkin’s notorious alleged cult leader formed an unlikely friendship after you’d testified in court about Chrissy’s whereabouts. You weren’t necessarily her best friend during senior year – Hell, no one would believe you even if you claimed that – but you had gotten close with the blonde when you’d tutored her. Besides Eddie, you were the only one who knew she was interested in drugs to escape her weird spouts of psychosis.

Now, a year later, you might call Eddie a friend, if smoking together and listening to music in his van every few months counts as a friendship.

“So, Sativa or Indica? I’m also out of my usual shit because that, uh, Valley dude that’s friends with Byers bought out everything that was good. So lucky for you, I could do fifteen for an eighth instead of–”

“I’m not here for weed,” you interrupt.

To your surprise, Eddie laughs. The bastard laughs at you.

“What?” you cinch your brows.

“I’m not selling to you if it isn’t weed.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because.”

“Because, why, Manson?”

Eddie sighs with defeat and looks everywhere that isn’t your direction. You can tell that you’d struck a nerve from how his jaw locks, a small vein in his neck pulsing just slightly. You feel guilty immediately. “Told you not to fuckin’ call me that.”

“S’a joke, Christ. No one actually thinks you’re a cult leader, y’know,” you mutter, crossing your arms.

“Half this town still does. Even after I got acquitted,” Eddie continues.

“You won’t sell to me because of Chrissy, isn’t it?”

He stays quiet.

“Eddie.”

“I just don’t want you messing around with that stuff, okay?”

“Have you gone Catholic or something? How incredibly chauvinist of you. Is that why we’re parked in front of a fucking church?”

You hate that your face is turning warm from your boiling blood – of all people, how could Eddie fucking Munson be so evangelical about drug use when he was the one providing for half of Hawkins High? The thought of him viewing you as any sort of damsel made you livid. As if you weren’t dealing with a shitshow of a summer already.

He twiddles his silver-lined fingers, thumb rubbing anxiously over the pendant of a skull on his middle finger. It isn’t that he has a new moral superiority over your drug habits, but lately, the nightmares have started back up again, and every night when he goes to sleep, Chrissy Cunningham sits in the passenger seat where you are currently. Sometimes she overdoses on K, sometimes Vecna gets her before Eddie even makes the right turn to enter his trailer park. Sometimes when Eddie claps his hands in front of Chrissy’s gray eyes, he blinks once, and to his horror, you’re in her place.

Your hand grasps the door handle next to you. “Okay. Fine. I can get what I want from someone else–”

Before you open the door fully, Eddie’s quick to hunch over you and shut the door with an amount of aggression that surprises you. For a moment, you think that he glances at your quivering lip.

“Don’t,” he warns. “Another time, okay? I’ll give you whatever, just not now. Just do it when I’m around, okay? For your own damn safety.”

You stare at him blankly. “Sativa.”

You watch as he climbs dextrously over his seat to get to the back of the van, which is full of blankets and pillows – a new addition from the last time you’d been in it.

“You sleeping in your car or something?” you raise a brow as you watch him, cheek leaning on the headrest of your seat.

“Henderson’s idea. We went to a drive-in the other night,” he murmurs mindlessly. “Pretty cozy, actually. You think I could pass as a Woodstock hippie with this set-up?”

“Totally,” you utter.

It’s strange how you’d known the boy for a little over a year – really known him, at least, compared to sharing physics senior year with him – and yet watching him lick his rolling papers as your favorite album plays feels more intimate than it ever has. The way Eddie’s slightly shrunken Hellfire Club shirt reveals his dark happy trail makes you feel like a lecherous predator just for watching. When your eyes fall on the array of bats on his forearm, he brings you back to Earth as quickly as you’d left it.

“You wanna smoke or not?”

“Mhm.” You nearly trip on your way to the back of the van. So much for meticulousness. Cross-legged and sweating slightly from the stuffiness of the vehicle, you lean against pillows that are propped up against the side door.

He notices your scent immediately as you move – amber incense and something woodsy. He always wonders why you’re still so timid after all these encounters, but he knows that once you take the first hit of the joint you’ll melt like an Indiana sunset. It isn’t that Eddie likes you better that way, it’s just that he likes the way your laugh sounds. And you tend to do it more when you’re high.

He hands you the finished joint and lights it for you. You inhale and hold the smoke in your lungs with a bated breath, exhaling a cloud towards Eddie’s star-stricken face. It’s there again, that small giggle coming from your mouth that makes something bloom in his chest more than he’d like to admit.

“What’re you laughing at, raccoon eyes?” he smirks.

“Nothing,” you stifle a laugh. “Just… the fairy lights make a nice touch.”

You point to the battery-powered string of lights strewn behind Eddie, dangling Draculas illuminated by a dull yellow.

“You’d look way hotter with raccoon eyes. Isn’t that what those KISS guys do?”

“I’m already hot,” Eddie protests.

“Okay, but how ‘bout this—“ you rummage through your bag for your charcoal-black eyeliner. Before you can even point it toward the boy’s face, he flinches, swatting your hands away.

“Oh come on, pretty boy!” you whine.

“You’re gonna poke my eye out with that thing!”

“I won’t!”

The two of you wrestle your arms together, with him gripping your wrist tightly whenever you try to touch his face. When he squeezes your forearm with his other hand, you forget how to breathe.

“Okay, okay, fine.”

“Thank you,” you coo, clasping your hands together in excitement.

You have the cadence of a child, a feral glint in your eyes as your mouth turns into a grin full of wolf teeth. He only lets you because he wants to be close to you, wants your soft hands on his face. It’s a rarity for him, these fleeting touches – but now that Eddie’s fully high, he craves them like a child fiending for candy. There were other times like now, times when your girlish whimsy would have you combing your fingers through his hair absentmindedly and innocently until you snapped to your senses. Eddie always hated when that happened.

He lies back lazily against the pillows, bare knees spread so that you can get closer to him. The look on his face is deadpan, feigning annoyance and eyelids fluttering once you so as much as attempt to draw a black line under his bottom lashes.

“Hold still!”

“Make me.”

Your eyelashes flutter in rapid succession at his declaration, eyes narrowing with a hint of a smirk on your lips as you combat his challenging gaze. You’re not giving in. Not yet, at least.

“Shut up.”

It takes a few minutes, but the results are worth it. Eddie blinks at you with his brown doe eyes, which look even bigger with the smudged black eyeliner you’ve managed to get on him.

“Am I as fuckable as Bowie now?”

“No one is as fuckable as Bowie. Not even you,” you snort, taking another hit from the joint.

“So you agree. You think I’m fuckable.”

You give him a knowing look, small smile hiding from the debauched imagery creeping into your mind. You’d be lying if you claimed that you didn’t think about him that way, but you’d rather die than tell him that.

He takes the joint out of your mouth, which is now slightly ajar and salivating as you scan his face and the smallest hint of a tattoo adorning his collarbone.

“Speaking of fucking, uh, Gareth has, like, a level five crush on you. Did y’know that?”

“Please. He makes it incredibly obvious.”

“You gonna go for it?” You notice the way he licks his lips in anticipation of your answer. You smile and shake your head.

“Aw, c’mon! Kid’s still a virgin.”

“Oh, so you wanna pimp me out?“

“I didn’t say—”

“Mhmm. Right.”

The joint’s nearly done when Eddie realizes he’s been staring at your face like the way someone examines a painting – really looks at it – for the first time. Reveling in all the details – the slope of your nose, the shape of your lips, your huge pupils blinking right back at him.

“What would it take for you to fuck Gareth?” Eddie asks. His voice is suddenly lower, the raspy husk from his voice muddling away from clarity.

“Christ, you’re really wingmanning so hard right now. Okay, so theoretically, I fuck him. What else? You gonna film it, too?” you slur.

It’s him who’s quiet now. Eddie doesn’t want you to notice his flushed face, which he’s claiming in his head to be from the summer heat and lack of air conditioning in his car, but he’s also fully aware that this is one of the cooler nights in July. But why does he feel like he’s fucking sweating? And God, the imagery of you actually fucking Gareth is pervading his brain right now, short-circuiting it in a way that makes him feel embarrassed, and he thinks that maybe he should count to ten and stare out the window so that he can —

“Earth to Edward,” you snap at him with your middle finger and thumb.

It’s Eddie’s turn to blink rapidly, averting his eyes. He rubs his temple like he has to contain a headache, but really, it’s dizzying lust that feels out of place. Especially with you right beside him. You’d never think that Eddie Munson was one to be shy around you, of all people, if at all. But between the sexual innuendos and the stupid banter, it’s like you’re seeing right through him. Needless to say, he doesn’t know how to hide his emotions at the moment. Certainly not when he’s high as a kite.

You think that maybe if you move just a few inches, something inside you could explode or bloom or coalesce completely. Any closer to Eddie Munson’s face and you’d be redistributing matter without a care in a world, but the cautious nature inside you screams instead. God, didn’t you arrive with a chill down your spine from the dip in temperature? Yet now, your synapses are on fire. All without being touched.

Your body seems to move in its own volition, but slowly. A hand combed through dark, frizzy locks. Your fingers caressing the length of his jaw. Your breath haphazard like you’re splayed out like a desperate, dying animal with your insides on display.

It’s like a glass breaks when it happens. You aren’t even aware of who does it first.

You take surprise in the confidence of your body pinning his down while his tongue explores the inside of your mouth, his hands gripping the exposed flesh above your shorts. You inhale sharply like you’re drowning until what comes out of your mouth descends into something like a laugh that’s swallowed by him.

Your desire is white-hot, blinding. You don’t realize how deeply you’ve got your claws into Eddie Munson’s shoulders until he lifts you up a little higher so that you’re properly straddling him, the warmth of your core pulsating from the severity of every sensation hitting your neurons. This weed is fucking strong, you think, with your brain blissed out to oblivion.

Your bliss is interrupted when he curses into your mouth and flinches slightly, pulling away from you with wide eyes.

“You bit me,” he chuckles lowly, wiping the crimson off his bottom lip.

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry,” you stammer. “I– that’s not something I do, um. I think I got carried away.”

“It was hot.”

Before you can respond, he locks his lips with yours again, this time grabbing the back of your neck with his strong, slender fingers. It’s messy, his newfound frenetic desire for you that had been bubbling up in his system for months and months, only to overflow the moment you got into the backseat of his van tonight.

He pulls away, a trail of saliva following his mouth as he grins. You’re too busy looking at him like you’re in a trance to think about anything else, certainly not when his silver-adorned fingers are touching the base of your throat.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he rasps.

“Tell me more,” you tease, though whatever provocation you’re going for is swapped for vulnerability the moment Eddie’s mouth descends down your throat and latches onto your exposed collarbone, teeth and all.

“So fucking hot… and sexy… and… shit,” he murmurs as he suckles lovebites on the curve of your shoulder. “Gareth’s gonna be fucking pissed at me when he finds out.”

You’re about to reply, make something of a self-deprecating joke to distract yourself from the fact that you’re sinking right under Eddie’s spell, but of course, the bastard sucks into your skin in a way that makes you glitch. You can’t even speak – all the sensations you feel from his mouth on your collarbone alone elicits a moan. He smirks into your skin.

The ache in your body is so viciously raw that you’re dreading the moment everything bursts. You realize you’re high enough that your usual fight or flight dissipates the moment you feel Eddie’s warm tongue on the side of your jaw.

Every touch feels electric. Your body is a forest fire.

Your blood is pumping hard, hot, and the way Eddie pulls back to admire the pinkish marks on your neck makes you nearly carnivorous with want.

“I need more, Eddie.”

More. Every cell in Eddie’s body screams more. He’s been teasing you, yes, but he doesn’t realize how onboard he is with more until he sees the salacious lust on your face, just barely muted by your virtuous eyes. He wants to devour you, he thinks. He doesn’t know that you were the one sharpening your fangs first.

“Whatever you want. Tell me.”

“Touch me.”

“Gotta be more specific, baby.”

“I don’t know,” you desperately mewl, burying your face into his shoulder. “Anywhere. Everywhere. I just need you.”

It almost sounds like a prayer, which nearly causes Eddie’s brain to malfunction from his disbelief. You – who’s always sarcastic, giving him the hardest time in a way that makes him want you more – begging for him as you grind against his lap. He must’ve died and gone to heaven.

“You’re sure about this?” Eddie murmurs. “You’re not too high, right?”

“I’m sure,” you huff, pouting. “You’re taking too fuckin’ long.”

He chuckles, grasping your waist with his hands as he grins at you with admiration. Your big moon eyes, your delicateness on top of him – all of it makes him fucking insatiable and he hasn’t even had a piece of you yet.

“Let’s take these off then,” he titillates, hands eager in pulling off your shorts. You beat him to it with such quickness that he has to double-take when he realizes you’ve so swiftly discarded your t-shirt as well, leaving you in your black lacy bra.

“Oh, shit, for me?” His hands touch the sides of your bra, fingers dancing around the clasp on your back.

“No, y’just got fucking lucky tonight. Your turn now.” Your hands roam the length of his toned stomach, which was already on full display from his Hellfire shirt that nearly served as a crop top. In a frenzy, Eddie discards both his shirt and his cutoffs, and before you can even get a word in about the growing length underneath you, his mouth is on yours again.

He tastes like weed and cigarettes and cinnamon. You love him like this – desperate and frantic, eager to have his skin flush with yours. His kisses only exacerbate in intensity as you take the liberty to reach into his boxers, your hand palming his shaft with such a fervor that it makes him groan.

Eddie’s quick to match your movements, fingers already clumsily coaxing themselves into your wet cunt while the two of you kiss like you’re fighting, like you’re competing for who gets the next bruise.

You don’t even notice that he’s unhooked your bra until he stops his frantic kissing to suck on your nipple. You moan at the sensation, throat raw from all the smoking. Your mouth keeps letting out sounds that you can’t even recognize as yourself. There’s no time to react considering the depth in which Eddie’s fingers are inside of you, rubbing along your spongy walls until your legs start to vibrate.

He’s so aggressive with his hands like he’s trying to prove something. The heat in your core that brews begins to thunder into something unfamiliar. It’s too good, this electric feel, and it doesn’t help that the skin above your breasts is starting to flame a livid red just from Eddie’s lovebites.

He pulls his nipple from your mouth as he strokes your insides harder, head tilting curiously as he watches the expressions on your face change like a supercut. He knows you’re nearly there from the sudden entropy of your body.

“C’mon, baby, you can do it. You’re almost there, right?”

“Y-yes,” you whine.

“Good girl. Cum for me, okay?”

“J-just like… that… oh my god…. oh my god,” you stutter. “Eddie, fuck!”

You dip into convulsion as you screw your eyes shut – the phosphenes in the pitch-black of your vision exploding like fireworks. The high takes over you like a tidal wave until you’re out of breath, chest heaving up and down. You have to physically remove his hand just so you can even attempt to calm down.

“You look so fucking good when you’re cumming for me, Jesus Christ.”

He watches you with a doe-eyed expression, his hand in yours as you raise it to fit into your mouth. Delicately, you lick off your own taste. Just from watching that, Eddie feels like he might cum soon.

Without a warning, you decide the next order of operations, pussy landing flush against Eddie’s hard cock softly and grinding against his length.

“Jesus,” he croaks, eyes lulled in an opium trance as you kiss the swell of his throat. He can barely focus – barely misses wherever the fuck those extra condoms are in his bag – shit, where were they?

After a blind rummaging with you still on top of him, he finds one and rips the foil from his teeth.

“This is– you’re sure?” he checks in with you cautiously, his face florid and hot with sudden apprehension as if you aren’t sliding your wet cunt against his lap at this very second. You nod as you twirl a curly strand of his hair between your fingertips and he rolls the condom on.

As you lower yourself, he groans in tandem with your borderline pornographic moans, and slowly, you grind against him.

“Oh, my God…” you moan. The thickness of him seems to be hitting every sensitive spot inside you to the point of you nearly seeing stars. Your iron grip extends to your claws as you dig into the bare flesh of Eddie’s shoulder blades, which flex slightly from the way he moves your body on top of his with his strong hands. Throughout your desperate mewling, he guides you on his lap while you cry out. He covers your mouth with his palm after a succession of your cries.

You gasp like a wild animal struggling despite your fervent stamina. You ride him like you’re trying to dominate him, but the sensitivity of your wet cunt nearly blows you overboard. At this point, you’re a lost cause until he grips your thighs tightly as you hover above him slack-jawed and soft headed.

Another mewl and Eddie thinks he might just come undone underneath you – but he doesn’t want to give you that satisfaction.

Within seconds, he switches positions, has you pinned against the blankets and pillows flat down so that he’s on top of you. You’d let him smother you if he could.

Eddie thrusts into you as his hands latch onto your shoulders. The sweat of his brow drips down the side of his face, adorning the glow radiating through him. After a slight sweep of his long curls, he has his hands tangled in your hair as he fucks into you, thrusting slowly but fully.

“Eddie, fuck!”

“Shit, am I hurting you?” he asks you with frantic concern. He wipes a finger down the length of your cheek to chase away a stray tear. “I can be more gentle.”

“I like when it hurts,” you reply in a rushed manner. “Fucking… need you.”

With that encouragement, Eddie’s hips snap back to yours. He grunts with an animalistic inflection, head bowing into your shoulder as he picks up his pace.

“So fucking– tight,” he exhales. “Fuck. God, you’re so– fucking—”

Tears start springing from your eyes. The weed makes your body infinitely more sensitive, and now that he’s finally inside of you, you feel like you’re in the fucking rapture.

Even from all the overwhelming pressure, you beg for more just from your rapacious movements, arms crossed over his back with your nails digging into his flesh.

He pouts when he sees your tears, wipes them off gently with the pads of your fingertips but your makeup smudges like a pornstar’s. With a grin, he peppers you with chaste kisses across your teeth despite the depravity happening below each of your hips, a burning candle on both ends as he hikes up your leg with your knee swung over his arm to thrust into you at a deeper angle. The blurred charcoal under your waterline makes you look gorgeous, he thinks, like an angel fallen out of heaven, Lilith banished from the Garden of Eden.

“It’s too much,” you gasp, eyes nearly rolling in the back of your head.

“You wanna stop?”

“No.”

He chuckles at that, sloppily kissing you down your chest. He has the sudden urge to turn you over, take you the way he wants, but the blackened tears on your cheeks make him want to treat you delicately despite the ravenousness of how he’s currently ramming into you. You insist on more, begging through hushed whimpers and limbs lumbering like a ragdoll’s. Just from seeing your wanton face, he thinks that this is intimacy, this is real, and having you in any other way would somehow break the spell. He needs to hold you this close and flush to his chest so you don’t disappear.

“Eddie–” you choke out.

“Mm?”

“Wanna be– on top,” you say breathlessly, and he slows the roll of your hips at the same time your hiccuping moans descend into smaller gasps. With his hands on your hips still, he sits up and leans backward while you stumble on top of his, knees nearly giving out because of how your legs feel like jelly.

God, your thighs are burning just a bit, but the delicious roll of your hips has his cock hitting your g-spot so much deeper than before – as if that was even possible.

“Holy shit,” Eddie groans, jaw slack with saliva glistening on the fullness of his bottom lip.

“S’feel good?”

“Don’t– don’t stop, baby,” he rasps. It’s him who’s begging now, and Christ, he can’t get a break. Not when you’re hovering above him, riding his cock like that, tits bouncing right in front of him. He reaches out of you, massages your nipple with his thumb until his palm cradles your neck delicately.

Experimentally, he slaps your ass hard enough to leave a mark, and your sharp-toothed grin has him falling apart. Eddie’s brain is a total haze, neurons firing and melting with the soundtrack of Cocteau Twins still ringing through his ears with honey-dripping reverb. He’ll have to listen to the record again when he’s alone later, high and horny with thoughts of you. Eddie doesn’t think he’ll be able to get you out of his head after tonight.

He’s teetering on the brink of orgasm, especially when your lewd moans are getting louder with the aggressive way you’re grinding against him, thick cock hitting the hot spot inside your walls repeatedly until something blooms in your stomach.

“‘m s’close, Eds–”

“Keep going, baby, you got it,” Eddie praises. “Let go for me.”

Your thighs are burning still, heedless now as the elastic inside your core finally breaks. He groans when he feels your walls tighten around him and within seconds, he whimpers – actually whimpers – as he floods you. The frenzied sensation of your shared orgasm blend together, an amalgam of hot wetness, of stomach butterflies wielding pickaxes, of dripping, molten desire.

He softens inside of you and with an exhale, he touches your face just to remind himself that you’re real. With a smile, you kiss his knuckles, his rings, his fingertips, until you suck on his thumb gently.

“Fuck, y’gonna make me hard again,” Eddie indicts, mouth raw and red from all of your lovebites.

“Is it ‘cause you made me cry?” you tease. “Sick fuck.”

“No, ‘cause you’re fuckin’ you,” he grumbles. “Kinda wanna keep you here forever, now.”

“That’s a completely normal thing for someone who’s not a cult leader to say,” you chuckle, lowering yourself down to Earth as your body fits into his like the missing puzzle piece. As you listen to the throes of his rapid heartbeat, his hair tickles your cheek softly.

“I think you’re the cult leader. Y’put subliminals in that cassette, yeah? Got me all high to seduce me?” His black-rimmed eyes are wide, eyebrows raised as he taps your nose playfully.

“You fucking wish, Munson.”

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn smut

2K notes · View notes

ourautumn86 · 2 years

Text

W ♡RSHIP ME

EDDIE MUNSON X FEM! INNOCENT CATHOLIC READER

REMINDER THAT IF YOU FEEL YOU COULD GET OFFENDED BY THIS POST THERE IS NO NEED TO READ IT! I WOULD HATE TO MAKE ANY OF YOU THINK THAT THAT WAS THE INTENTION OF IT WHEN IT TRULLY ISN'T, I DEEPLY RESPECT ALL TYPES OF RELIGIONS! <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

Synopsis;; you didn't know what was happening with you, only that you wanted to dance with the devil under the name of Eddie Munson.

inspired by amazing writers such as @eddiemunsonhotgf and @dinodinodin0 ♡

CW;; references to the bible and church (also, eddie is not a believer and talks about his sinning and also is harsh about god, AGAIN DON'T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY PLEASE), mocking of god, cursing, drug use, dirty talk, nipple play, teasing, smut, p in v sex, masturbation, dacryphilia, worshipping kink, god kink, overstimulation, a little bit of perv!Eddie, squirting, spanking, non protected sex (GUYS STDS ARE REAL, WRAP THE DONG UP), cream pie, finger fucking, chocking, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms… MINORS DNI!!!

(this actually got a little bit out of hand…)

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

Word count;; 9k

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“Pray to me. Worship me.”

To be honest, Eddie gave a absolute and incredibly huge fuck about ‘the above’. If there were rules any supposed God had put on a silly book then there was him to break every and each one of them.

It was easy really, look.

“Thou shalt not steal.”

Jesus, what the hell? And literally speaking. Come on, he was not really gonna die from lightning if he borrowed a couple of rings from the punk store, was he?

2. “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.”

I mean… More than one mother he has already fucked, so there was that…

3. “Thou shalt not commit adultery.”

… Yeah…

4. “Thou shall not take the name of thy God in vain.”

God could suck his cock, honestly.

5. “Honor thy father and mother.”

Say what now? Didn’t knew her. And him? He could suck his cock too.

6. “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.”

Oh yeah, sure. No lies, blah, blah, sin!, blah, blah. He was always lying (justifiable). Even to himself, for fucks sake! If you went and asked him if he wanted to fuck you, will he say yes? Well, that was not a great example, but y’all get the point.

7. “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods.”

Would you count as one of your father’s goods? ‘Cause if that’s the case… He couldn’t really help himself. He was going to make you his any way or the other.

8. “Thou shalt not kill.”

Well, except for that. He really hadn’t done that…

Well, as he was saying…

9. “Remember to keep holy the Sabbath day.”

With how you looked in that tiny little navy skirt and the way your tits pushed against your white catholic highschool shirt? He didn’t think he would be able to keep holy even in a normal day.

And lastly…

10. “I am the Lord thy God, thou shalt not have any gods before Me.”

Oh, but he had one. You.

You were this kind of fucking angel sent from heaven. With your beautiful and silky hair falling to your back in waves, the prettiest and shiny eyes he had ever seen and rosy fully glossed lips that parted to sing along with the church’s choir. With that wonderful body of yours that he would absolutely go down on his knees to worship, you and those curves, ass and thighs that he so has dreamed of making a mess of with his lips.

You had the sweetest voice and personality he has ever known, always so caring, so giving and so sensitive… Oh god, his cock pushed against his black jeans every single time a tear would cascade down your cheeks when you volunteered for those in need, too overwhelmed as you prayed for them.

He wanted so bad for you to pray for him instead, down on your knees, with those pretty lips…

He was no catholic, he never was. But for you? Jesus, he would even enroll in one of those goddamn religious schools, cut his hair and go around like a goddamn prep church boy spreading God’s word if that meant he could stay as close to you as he could.

You had noticed, of course. Who wouldn’t? He was the black sheep amongst all those white ones as the pastor went on and on towards the end of the mass. He was there every Sunday, just to see you. And sooner or later your eyes had drifted to the end of the room and met his. He felt as if he could die a happy man there, when you gave him a sweet smile before getting back to praying.

To your eyes he seemed… Different. Different than any other boy you had ever met. What was comprensible since you were always surrounded by your very well mannered and stiff classmates. If any of them were there, they would probably start saying something about how people like him would end up being abandoned by god and in hell.

You could almost hear them and your father to stay away from his kind when the priest announced that all of you shall receive communion bread from your neighbor. You didn’t know why, but before noticing, you were drifting away from the crowd and towards the back with one of the hosts in your hands, towards him.

His eyebrows rose when he noticed that you were approaching him, no one had before. So he felt clumsy as he stood up from the wood bench in which he had been sitting for the last one and a half hours.

Your eyes met his when you were close enough, and he simply stared at you, at your soft skin, long lashes and cute nose. He was taken back when your hands rose from below and towards his lips. Your cheeks were pink and your eyes darted towards one of the angels carved in the wood walls. He then understood what was going on when he noticed the little bread medallion on your fingers. Fuck, he hadn’t done the communion, so was he not supposed to eat that?

His eyes went back to your expecting face, who was now looking at his indecisive one, attentive.

Fuck it.

He thought as he leaned down and took it with his tongue. You felt your face redden when his bottom lip brush against your finger tips, his brown eyes closing as he leaned back tall, looking down at you with a smirk.

“Thanks, gorgeous.” you slightly jumped on your spot. His voice was so… You couldn’t even describe it with words. What it did to you, how your whole body seemed to have been set on fire and your hands trembled as you nodded, unable to even speak up.

You both stared at each other for what it seemed to be hours on end before you could recompose yourself and turn around to head back to your sit on the front. You were flushed, and you softly slapped your cheeks to focus. And you tried, you really tried, and yet, there you were, sneaking peeks to the metal head every now and then just to find out that he was already staring at you, making you stupidly blush every single time.

Oh yeah, Eddie loved mass now.

The best day of the week was Sunday. No discussion. Maybe a common teenager would actually prefer Friday, but Sunday was the only day of the week he actually got to see you, so that’s that. He could understand his uncle’s confused gaze every weekend when he would tell him he was going to church, but it was fun anyways. He could even see smoke coming out of his ears trying yo understand why him would be going to mass every week.

But oh, well. Anything to get a glimpse of you.

He couldn’t understand it either. It was like an obsession, taking out the stalking shit. He just couldn’t get enough of you and your discreet peeks at him, of how every time you would come to him in mass when the host had to be given and of how you always seemed to blush around him. It was instantaneous, the connection.

Maybe it was true that opposites attract. But he couldn’t focus on that at the moment, his whole being was focused on you.

It was late at night and mass had just finished, everyone was saying their goodbyes at the doors and outside, going to ride back to their homes.

By now, he knew that you always stayed inside for a little bit more, maybe to help the pastor, or pray just one last time before leaving, who knows? He would just wait for you, anyways, blunt on hand and eyes on the wood doors.

The smoke burned his throat as he dragged a new hit from it, and the cold night’s air was hitting his face and blowing his curly hair. The sky was full of stars, but the only sight he would die for was you.

You shivered as you stepped out of the church, waving a goodbye to the pastor with one of your sweets smiles, which disappeared rather quickly when the cold air hit your bare skin. Your uniform was really not made for winter-like nights, and the thin sweatshirt that you had brought with you even less. You groaned when you remembered that today neither of your parents could come pick you up and that you had to walk back home. Good thing was that you lived nearby so it wouldn’t take you long.

You smiled to a few of the families that said their goodbyes, your eyes strolling though the plaza ‘till they met the more wooded part of it and at the same time, a pair of brown ones that stared at you, glistening under the fire of the blunt in between those soft lips that touched your fingers every Sunday. Your cheeks went hot pretty quickly as you looked the other way, your steps not waiting to start moving towards the street, but you stopped halfway, something inside you tugging the other way around. You fisted your hands and squeezed your eyes shut as you stood there, indecisive but knowing damn well what you wanted. Eddie’s eyebrows rose, awaiting for your next move as he stared at your back and silk hair. Surprise filled his factions when you turned around in just a mere second, starting to walk towards him still with your eyes closed shut. As if that would help you…

Cute.

He had to bit down a smile, still looking away and leaning in the tree on his side side while getting a new drag as you closed the distance.

He stared at you when you had finally come to meet him, your eyes darting away from him just to go back in less than a few seconds. He fought the urge to smile once again when he saw you try and say something, struggling to find a way how to start.

He was so close… So close that you could smell the earthy smoke —not truly knowing what it was—that surrounded him and his stupidly addictive cologne. Okay, breathe. You can do this. You can do this.

“Hi.” you stuttered, looking up at him since he was a few inches taller than you.

He smirked as he hit the blunt one more time before temporarily turning it off since he wouldn’t want you to be around the smoke.

“Hi, sweetheart.” he calmly said, slowly blowing off the smoke away from you, saving the rest of his blunt in his pocket. His mind was the complete opposite of his appearance, it was a mess. Holy shit, you were so close. And, fuck, you were talking to him. For the first time ever. This was a fucking dream.

Your cheeks burned when you heard the little nickname, a shy smile pursing your lips. Your brain was probably burning now due to all the thinking you were doing, trying to think about something to say to him. Hell, this was hard. “I saw you on mass.” you muttered, wanting to really kick yourself due to the stupidness that you’ve said. That was something he already knew.

Eddie smiled, giving you a chuckle that made your heart skip a beat. God you were so beautiful… “I know, I saw you too, gorgeous.” And he was high. What only made his infatuation worse. “Are you not going home? No one coming to get you?” he inquired you.

“Oh, yeah. I’m gonna walk the way back, my parents couldn’t come today.” you smiled to what he frowned.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he inquired back, chuckling a little bit. “Beautiful girls like you shouldn’t walk alone at night, doll.”

You froze when one of his hands reached to brush back your locks from your face, making your stomach turn.

“We wouldn’t want any bad guy hurting you, would we?” you shook your head in response, to what he hummed. “That’s right… So, why don’t you let me take you home, sweetheart?” he offered you, cautious to not come out as a creep or something like that. He really wanted you to get home safe though.

“Would that be okay?” you inquired, making him smile.

“Of course, gorgeous.” he frowned when he saw you shiver, quickly getting rid of his jacked to hand it to you. “Take this too, I’m sure you are freezing with that uniform on.” you blushed when his eyes scanned your bare legs, your soft hands bumping against his more tougher ones when you muttered a little ‘thanks’ and pushed the warm vest on your shoulders. You felt like drowning, not only because it was absolutely huge on you, but because it smelled like him. With that woody string that you couldn’t really put your finger on.

He mouthed a ‘fuck’ when he saw you on his jacket, your innocent eyes staring at him as you melted on the denim. You looked so beautiful that it made a boner start to grow on his pants. But he pushed the dirty thoughts that filled his mind to the back of it and pressed his palm on your lower back. “Let’s go, beautiful.” he smiled at you as you both walked towards his van, which’s door he opened for you before getting on the driver’s seat and starting the car. Music filled your ears when the radio got turned on, only a whisper to your ears as you were so focused on the way his veiny and big hands gripped the wheel and manhandled it to start driving away.

He made sure you had your seatbelt on, but really didn’t mind to even put his on before getting to the road.

“Where to, sweetheart?” he inquired you, turning down the music a little bit as his eyes quickly found yours, nodding when you gave him your direction.

You both were silent during the drive, not an awkward kind of it, though, more like a warm one. Your eyes wandered around the messy van, which was filled with metal tapes, some beer cans, cigarettes that had stumbled out of the ashtray and notebooks and book on the backseats, which were clearly from D&D.

“You play the guitar?” you inquired when you noticed one red pick hanging from his neck, something you hadn’t been able to see since it has been hidden under his jacket.

He smiled at your question, his body shaking slightly when you leaned over him and picked the pick in between your fingers. The design was really beautiful. “I do, actually, I’m even on a band.” your eyes widened.

“Really? What’s its name?”

“Corroded Coffin.” you nodded. “We play at the Hideout from time to time.”

“How cool, I’ve never met someone who played the electric guitar, on my school they’re forbidden. They only teach us how to play the piano.” you sighed.

“Well, If you liked I could play for you sometime.” you seemed exited at his offer.

“I would love that! I’m sure you’re amazing.” he felt himself slightly blushing, looking at you with a little grin before shrugging.

“I guess I’m good with my fingers.” he chuckled when you only smiled wider, pretty shiny eyes shining under the moonlight and completely oblivious of the lustful meaning of his words. What an innocent girl. “Okay, how about I play for you…, If you play for me too? What do you say, hm?” he said, pulling over in front of your house and stopping the car to turn to look at you. “Do we have a deal, gorgeous?” he inquired while offering you one of his hands on a shake.

You bit your bottom lip anxiously. “Okay.” you muttered, talking his hand in between yours, amazed by how his rough fingertips stayed warm even in the coldest of nights and just how long his fingers were compared to yours. A lightning went down though your whole body when his free hand reached your face, thumb pressing against your bottom lip as his eyes took in just how perfectly sinful they seemed. He dreamed of someday tasting them, breaking them with his teeth.

“I can’t wait.” he whispered, your doe eyes staring into his when he flashed you a smile and pulled away. “Now, get home safe, gorgeous. Don’t keep your parents waiting.” you nodded, following his orders and getting off of the van, not before pressing a soft kiss on his cheek, a shy giggle falling off your lips.

“Thank you for taking me home. I’ll see you next Sunday!” you waved goodbye as you walked towards your door, cheeks flushed and a big smile.

He gave you a wave just as you closed the front door behind your back, his raised hand pressing against the tingling skin of his cheek, where your lips had rested.

She’ll be the death of me…

He thought as he stared his van once again.

And that was just the start of everything.

You and Eddie became close pretty quickly. Was he the best influence? Absolutely not, since he had found a way to take you to the last church’s bench just to keep you giggling and blushing all the way through mass.

He had even introduced you to his friends. They were really cool…, different. There was this little genius named Dustin, who along with his friends always played D&D Friday afternoons, Steve and Robin, who worked on the Film Store and were always discussing the best films of history, and Nancy, the sweetest yet fearless girl you had ever met. At first you felt like an intruder, but they seemed to like you as much as you liked them, since they started to invite you to your hangouts and always ask Eddie about you when they had the chance.

Your parents were surprised, if not astonished, at first when they met Eddie and your group. They were so used to those prude bible lover classmates of yours that it was a shock for them. But once they saw just how happy it all made you, they decided that they’d accept it only if you continued with your bible studies and went to church every Sunday, what you obviously weren’t planning on stop doing.

Something forbidden though, was having boys at home, even more in your room.

But the first time that Eddie knocked on your window a Friday night it all want to… well, Hell.

You were laying on your bed after having had a long bath and fully clothed on your flared night dress, reading a little bit of one of the books that Eddie had lended you: Lord of the Rings. He said that once you had finished the first one he would give you the second. You would lie if you said you understood something, if not anything. But you weren’t that far on the book yet, so maybe you just had to give it time. You were lost on the inked papers when suddenly someone knocked at your window, startling you. With widened eyes you turned just to see a smiling metal head waving at you and pointing at the window lock with a little smile. You quickly closed the book and walked towards it, unlocking it just to see the curly haired get in without making a sound.

“Eddie?” you clasped over your mouth when you found yourself speaking too loud, whispering when your lips parted once again. “What are you doing here!?”

“Just wanted to see you, gorgeous. Is that a sin?” he mocked you, wandering around your bedroom and taking every single detail in as you hurriedly closed and locked your door.

Eddie found himself mesmerized by your room, it was a complete opposite of his: clean, organized, pink…

You grasped away from his hands one of your teddy bears that he had took to inspect, his brown eyes back on you.

“You know you can’t be here! What if my parents found out?” he hushed you with a soft smile on his lips, hands on your shoulders.

“They won’t. I promise, alright? I parked the van one block down your neighborhood, they won’t even suspect. Never saw me climb in too, so we’re safe.” you seemed relieved, falling on your bed and him following, sitting on his book and pulling it off under him just to smile and look at you. “You’re reading it!” you looked at him.

“Well yeah, at least I’m trying. Everything is so confusing…” he let out a little chuckle.

“You know that if you need my help you just want to ask me, sweetheart. I can explain to you the lore in less than thirty minutes from all the times that I’ve read the saga.”

You giggled when he bumped the book on your head, making him let out a soft laughter too before he would make you blush —like always— by complimenting just how beautiful you looked that night.

Even though you always feared him getting caught by one of your parents every single time he sneaked in and, getting you grounded, with every new secret visit, that fear slowly disappeared.

Eddie made you feel good, and safe. He always talked to you about his day, giving you as much details as he could just so you could feel how being a Hawkins High student felt like. Of course, he took out Jason’s bullying and how everyone thought of him as a freak in fear you’d end up thinking about him the same way they thought about him, which was stupid, since you adored Eddie.

He was always the sweetest, always taking care of you, making sure you were warm every night after church, comfortable on his van’s seat… Making sure you had something to eat, trying his best to make you feel like the most important thing in the whole world… It made your heart beat pretty quickly when he would take your hand when you walked down the streets, making you go on the inside part and telling you to be careful with the rain poodles in case you’d go and slip.

He always let you hide on his chest when you watched scary movies with him on his trailer, and gave you his shirt and sweats —which were too big for you— to sleep if you ever decided to spend the night. He even lent you his bed and slept on the couch. He was a gentleman.

Or that’s what he wanted you to think. ‘Cause he really was no saint. He had to fought a boner every time you’d sleep over, or fall asleep on his chest after a long movie night, or ignore the way your tongue swirled around an ice cream, or how your tits bounced while running for him and pressed against his chest, or fight the urge to touch when while reading your little cotton panties would show under your night gown, or when your skirt would rile up a little bit too much exposing your perfect thighs… Fuck. He had had to go to the bathroom multiple times to masturbate and get it over with or else he would feel like going crazy.

He wanted you, really wanted you. Wanted to make you choke on his dick, to touch you over your panties in the last church’s bench while the mass went on, make you grind on him in the confessional, he wanted to hear you moan in his ear as he pounded in you in Steve’s bathroom while the others watched a movie downstairs, he wanted to mark your neck just so you would struggle to hide them from your catholic little teacher and friends. God, he was the devil, and you were that pretty little angel that he so wanted to corrupt all for himself.

He had dreamed about you, crying while being too cock drunk, begging for him to fuck you harder. He would wake up in the middle of the night gasping for air and with cum in his underwear when he once dreamed about you calling him your god.

He felt sick. He was sick. Sick for wanting to hurt you, to cuff you to his bed as he ate you out over and over again ‘till you couldn’t cum anymore, for taking a knife and cutting his initials on your flesh only to lick clean the wound and then let you taste it on his lips, he wanted to fill you up with his cum and watch it drip out of your tight little cunt just to get hard again and fuck you one more time. He wanted to spank you so you wouldn’t be able to sit on your chair next morning, he wanted to choke you and hear your whimpers as he fucked you stupid.

He had even stolen your used panties from the dirty laundry once that he had sneaked on your bathroom under the excuse to pee, just to fuck his fist —once he was back in his trailer— with them and lick the crotch as he pleasured himself while fantasizing about it being your pussy instead. He had even risked waking you up while masturbating next to you in your slumber, for fucks sakes!

He wanted to hear you scream his name so bad… Hear you beg for him to do anything he wanted to you, to fill you up, to break you, to…

“Eddie?” you sweet voice filled his ears, pulling him away from his train of thought. You two were alone for the night in your house, your parents having gone away on a trip due to work and leaving you all alone, to what you’ve asked Eddie if he could stay with you since you were scared. After a couple of minutes, he was knocking on your door with all types of movies and snacks. And there you were, in your room, under the dim light of your lamp and the television, which played ‘The Exorcist’.

It was not the first night the two of you had spent alone in your room, he had slept over each time your parents were away just to keep you company and hugged you ‘till you had fallen asleep. But something was wrong that night. Well, you had been feeling kind of strange for a while now.

It all started a couple of weeks ago where one of your friends had come to school with flushed cheeks and a scarf around her neck, which was strange since it was not that cold yet. It was not ‘till recess when she had told you all about it and taken of her scarf to show her little secret. She was full of hickeys, something you’ve learned not too long ago. You didn’t understand what had happened ‘till she whispered about the weekend he had spend with his boyfriend on her house, while his parents were away for vacation. She had given all of you clear details about how she had gotten those and how his boyfriend had —and you quoted— wrecked the shit out of her. Even though you were quite lost, you knew that whatever she had done was a sin, since they were out of marriage. But when you told her so she just went and told you ‘As if you didn’t have a boy that you’d like to fuck too.’ Your eyes had widened at her words, cheeks flushing and confusion settling on your head when suddenly Eddie’s face came to your mind.

That day, you spent the whole school time thinking about it, fire on your stomach when suddenly you’d imagined yourself with your neck full of bruises just like your friends but this time being Eddie the one that had sucked them on you. Was then when you started feeling strange, your whole body flushing and a really uncomfortable tingle in your lower parts that had you awkwardly brushing against your chair from time to time, what only made it worse.

You thought it had gone away, but then you had met Eddie the next day in church and that feeling had come back to haunt you, worsening with the little strokes that his fingertips gave to the thigh where his hand rested. You had tried and praying it away, too embarrassed to even think about what that exactly meant and trying to erase your friend’s words out of your head.

Although everything went down hill when you woke up one night startled and with slick in your panties due to a very indecent dream you had had. You didn’t understood why, but you had taken the teddy bear that Eddie was always messing with and pushed it in between your thighs in hopes that it would stop that tingly feeling that so crazy was driving you, only to find yourself pushing against it when you felt good… Really good even. Even more when you went ahead and went though your dream one more time. It was Eddie, slowly kissing your neck, skin glistening due to his tongue and little open mouthed kissed and bites that he had given you, and not really knowing how, that same mouth had ended up finding its way in between your thighs and buried himself there. But you got scared as your stomach tightened and pushed it away, gasping for air with tears in your eyes as you grasped tightly your rosary in between your fingers and prayed and prayed over and over again. Although the pain never left.

You couldn’t even look at Eddie’s face due to the embarrassment that night after church, and prayed the whole day after that, scared that some demon had come to hurt you on your sleep.

What would Eddie think of you? What would God think about you?

You had tried everything. Everything to push it away, to forget about it.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he was drawing little circles on your bare thighs, your head against his shoulder and chest, your arms around his waist.

Yet there was it, that stupid feeling once again, making you all flushed and wet down there due to just a pair of simple touches from your best friend.

“Can you… Can you please stop touching me?” you inquired him with a soft and hurt voice, trying really hard not to brush yourself against your bed sheets for that relief you had felt once with your plush. No. It’s wrong. It’s wrong…

He seemed surprised at first at your words, but quickly pulled his hand away from your skin, worry on his voice. “I’m sorry, gorgeous, was I making you feel uncomfortable?”

Surprisingly enough, you whined when you felt the urge to ask him to touch you again, feeling so overwhelmed and frustrated and scared that tears started to form on your eyes. Eddie’s widened when he heard your little gasps and hiccups, being quick to stop the movie and turn to you, his eyes finding your teary ones.

“Hey…” his voice was filled with sadness as his hands cupped your rosy cheeks, his eyebrows turned and face worried. “What’s wrong, gorgeous?” his thumbs swayed the tears away as you cried, shattering his heart.

“I— I don’t feel good.” you muttered, making him worry even more.

“Why? Are you feeling sick? Does it hurt somewhere?” you nodded, crying even harder, your hands fisting his shirt. “Where? Where does it hurt?” he inquired you but you simply shook your head.

“I can’t… I can’t tell you.” and you truly couldn’t, what would Eddie think of you? He would hate you! He would leave you alone and then you two wouldn’t be friends anymore.

He looked so concerned he seemed pale. “Tell me where it hurts, baby, please?” he inquired and you only buried your face on his neck. “Please baby, please?”

You hid even more before you could mumble something his ears didn’t catch, your breath on his skin making him slightly shiver.

New tears damped his tee as you cried on his neck, him not truly understanding, taking your face in between his hands once more and away from his neck to try and understand as he tried to push away that lingering pleasure of seeing your tears.

“I don’t understand, sweetheart. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I just… I just can’t make it stop!” you frustratedly whimpered, your thighs pushing together.

“What is it, gorgeous? You know you can always tell me anything, I’m here for you, okay? I’m here for you.” he promised, giving you a slight kiss on your forehead.

“It hurts very bad, Eddie.” and when he softly asked you again where you muttered a “Down… Down there.” your pretty voice came out as a whisper, but he was still able to hear it, his eyes drifting to your legs, which pressed tightly against the other.

“Down there, baby?” you nodded.

“It feels hot and hurts when you touch me and I can’t make it stop. I’m sorry, I’m veryveryvery sorry Eddie, please don’t be mad, please?” you begged him, his heart skipping a beat when you confirmed his guessing.

You were… You were, fuck.

“I’m not mad, doll.” he gave you a sweet smile as he pushed the last few tears away from your cheeks.

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.” he nodded, gulping hard when you squirmed under his touch once one of his hands had found his way to your thighs. “But I need to you show me where it hurts, okay sweetheart? I don’t really know what you mean.” he said, rubbing circles on your warm skin.

Oh, he knew what you meant. He perfectly knew. But it was too good to be true. You? Hot and bothered because of him? God was really playing with him right now, right? This couldn’t be…

“Can you do that for me, hm?” you nodded when his soft voice reached you, your own shaky little hand taking his just to push your thighs apart and slowly start to drag it inwards, a sigh scaping your lips.

This was one of those goddamn dreams, it had to be. It had to… Jesus H Crisht.

“There.” you stuttered when his palm was fully cupping your clothed cunt, the warmth and wetness in your panties making him moan.

“Is there where it hurts, baby?” you nodded, your eyes closing as your teeth captured your bottom lip. “Since when does it hurt, hm?” he inquired, trying really hard to stay still and not push those goddamn beautiful panties away to push his fingers roughly inside you and make you scream.

“Since a couple of days.” ‘Since the dream’. You wanted to add.

“My poor baby, all frustrated and bothered. You must have really had a bad time…” you nodded, almost crying once again, when his other hand cupped your wet and warm cheek, his lips on your ear as he whispered. “I know what’s wrong with you.”

“You know?” you inquired, your voice holding a little bit of hope in all that list that you really couldn’t understand.

“Mmh, mmh.” he muttered, thumb pressing against your bottom lip, eyes on it as his tongue dampened his own. “It happens to me too… All the time. But only when I’m with you.” you gasped at his words, quivering when his minty breath hit your face. “I know how to make it feel better. Do you want me to make it feel better, gorgeous?” you quickly nodded, your hips bucking towards his hand when his fingertips slowly and softly made its way down your slit, still not pressing into your wet folds.

“Yes please, Eddie. Please.” you begged, making him grin at your broken pleads, even more when your head fell backwards and you moaned when his touch became rougher, his body moving ‘till he now rested behind you, your back against his chest.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he asked, his fingers touching your clit over your pink panties. You nodded. “Words, gorgeous. Use your words.” his index pressed harder and you whined, your fingers fisting the floral sheets under you.

“Yes. Yes. Feels… Feels good, Eddie.” you found a way to babble out, too out of it.

“Look at you, I’m only touching you over your panties and you are already like this.” he chuckled. “Such a good dirty girl.” you whimpered at his words, hips pushing against his touch, shaking when his lips found your neck. “Why don’t you be good for me and get rid of your panties, mh?”

You were quick to push them down your thighs, your slick forming a thick string in between the cotton and your cunt that made Eddie groan, dick fully hard underneath his jeans.

“Good girl.” he praised you, his hand going back in between your thighs, taking your breath away. “Does that feel better now?” you nodded, incredibly overwhelmed by the difference that it was having him touching you under you clothes then above. Hell, if you had been close to cumming with just your teddy bear, you were now seconds away from bursting. “I bet it does. So pretty.” his middle finger pressed against your entrance, circling it and making you moan his name.

“Eddie.” he groaned when it fell from your lips, your nails digging on his thighs as you pulsed against his fingertips. “More.” you didn’t truly know what you were asking for, but the words came on it’s own as you whimpered, pushing against his finger.

“Does my pretty girl want more?” you answered with a plead ‘yes, please’. “Then open up for me a little bit more, baby.” he said against your neck, sucking slightly on your skin and making you moan as your thighs parted to their limits. “That’s it.” you cried out when his finger slowly pushed against the ring of muscles, sinking in when it gave out.

“Eddie…” you whimpered, the strange feeling of his finger inside of, you slowly pulling backwards just to push back in once again, making your head spin, the wet sounds of your pussy receiving his digits making him lose his mind.

“Fuck.” he groaned, his hard dick pushing against your lower back. He was so hard he swore he could cum just with your whimpers and moans. “That’s it baby, you’re being so good…” your nails dug harder on his thighs when he tried his luck by pushing another finger in, this one stinging but not for long since his thumb pressed against your clit and his two fingers curved to hit your g spot.

You then became a mumbling mess, begging for that feeling again, for more from him and crying and moaning his name over and over again.

You were feeling once again that strange and overwhelming pressure in your lower stomach. And he knew, since your walls were tightening around his fingers, that you were close. Close to the best feeling that you had yet to know.

“Eddie, I…”

“You close, gorgeous? Gonna cum all over my fingers?” he muttered against the skin of your neck. “Gonna scream my name as you cum, hm?”

You didn’t know what it was, but you were so close, so close.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. Let me have it.” and with a last breath you broke down in cries and high pitched moans, his name falling off your lips as the best thing you had ever experienced hit you. It was warm, and so intense that it made you lose focus of your surroundings, making you go blind as Eddie groaned in your neck, biting down on your soft skin. “Atta girl.” you whimpered as his fingers helped you ride out your orgasm, your thighs twitching and tears in your eyes as your walls fluttered around his rough and thick fingers. “Fuck baby, that was so hot.”

You gasped for air as you came down, your head against his shoulder and entrance twitching when his cum covered fingers left you and found its way to his mouth, licking them clean and tasting you with a hum.

You whined at the sight, making him smirk. “What is it, want a taste sweetheart?” you nodded, half-lided eyes shining with pleasure. “Then open your mouth for me.” you did so as he turned your face with one of his hands just to lean on you, his tongue sloppy but hungry in your mouth and his free hand groped one of your breasts, making you moan.

It was your first kiss, and even if you had imagined it a thousand times how it would be before, it was definitely not like that. It was messy, and hot, and really difficult to follow. That’s why you found yourself pulling him back in from his neck, wanting more of his lips on yours and your taste in his mouth. But he just wouldn’t give it to you, chuckling mere inches from your face making you whine.

“Nuh-uh, that’s not how we ask for things, beautiful.”

“Please, Eddie…” you whispered against his lips, his thumb pulling on your bottom lip ‘till your mouth was open for him once again.

“Stick your tongue out.” he ordered, and you followed, moaning when he leaned in once again, his tongue bruising your own and making your eyes roll when his free hand snuck back to your thighs, this time ascending to your tummy, all the way up ‘till his fingertips bumped against your under boobs. “Fuck, you are not wearing a bra, baby?” you shook your head, his dick twitching against your back, but later against your thighs once he had pushed you on your back and quickly topped you. “Such a tease…” he mumbled against the skin on your neck, giving you a harsh bite that made you cry and pushed him flush against you, his hands taking a hold on your pretty tits under your shirt, your nipples hard and begging to be touched.

“Eddie, please… Kiss me, please.” you pleaded for him to go back to your lips, to your tongue, intoxicated by his touch, his words and his hard dick pressing against your skin. You so wanted to be touched again, to be relieved from that pain that once again grew in between your thighs.

“So pretty begging for me, do you want it that bad?” you nodded, squirming under his touch and letting out a hurt whimper when he pinched and pulled your nipples, leaving that tingle and warmth spread on your skin. “Cant hear you baby.”

“I want it, please, please, please…” your hips pushed against his when he found his way in between your legs, wet pussy against the rough denim of his crotch. “Please, Eddie, it hurts.” new tears came to your eyes, moaning over and over again when he started to dry hump against you, rubbing your sensitive clit and making you see stars.

“Such a greedy little bitch.” you cried out at his words, all that sweet talk leaving him when his palm hardly fell on the flesh of your thigh, making your body jolt. “Gave you my fingers and yet you don’t find it enough?” the next slap made you push harder against his cock, making him groan in your chest as he snapped the buttons of your shirt just to let his tongue freely lap at your tits, biting and sucking hardly on your skin, leaving beautiful marks behind.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you cried, one of your hands instantly going to take a hold on the little cross that dangled from your neck, something you did as you prayed and in times where you felt like giving into sin.

“You gonna pray, whore? Gonna pray to god while I fuck you?” he inquired, his grip on your wrists as he pushed your hands away from your necklace and over your head. You moaned when the denim brushed over your cunt once again, it dampening due to how wet you were. “He’s not the one making you feel better, sweetheart. You should be praying to me. It’s me who you should be begging and for which you’d go down on your knees, don’t you think, hm?” you nodded even though the grip on your wrists pained you and his teeth harshly dug on the skin of your neck, ‘cause it felt so good, better than anything you’ve experienced before. “What a dirty slut, giving in to me just so I make you cum, isn’t that right? Say it. Say you want me to make you cum all over my cock.” your body grew on goosebumps to his orders, you babbling and trying to make sense of the words who left your lips, receiving a harsh slap when you could find a way to pull them in order. “Come on, sweetheart, I know you want it. You want me to make you feel good again, right? You want to make me feel good?” you quickly nodded, eyes closed as he dry humped against your aching cunt. You no longer wanted his fingers, you were in need of something bigger, something that would fill you up to the brim and make you choke out on it. “Then say it, baby. I know you can.”

Your lips parted in a cry when one of his hands left your wrists just to find its way to your clit, thighs shaking as you felt the pressure start to build again in your stomach, lifting you higher and higher.

“Please, Eddie. Make me…” you whimpered when his circling didn’t stop. “I want to cum on your cock.” you managed to say, not really caring anymore about the eyes that watched you up from the sky. If God loved you…, then why would he make this a sin? Why could something that felt so good be bad? Maybe Eddie was right, maybe it was him your truly God.

You found yourself tugging against his hand and trying to push him back to your core when he pulled away, leaving you with an orgasm that never came and shaking on your place, begging in between little whispers and mutters.

“Fuck. Look at you. All messed up and I haven’t even begun to fuck you. You are gonna do good for me, isn’t that right baby? You are gonna take it, gonna take my cock and cum on it over and over again, and fucking take it.” when he finally freed your wrists, your hands quickly searched up for him, his own unbuckling his belt as you nodded, pushing his jeans and boxers —wet with precum — down his thighs, freeing his aching and swollen dick, which bumped against his happy trail. You eyes widened at the sight. So that was what had been poking you that whole time. It was strangely beautiful. Mushroom tip wet and red, great length and girth with a couple of veins on its side… It had a little curve too. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me, gorgeous?” you nodded, eyes never leaving his cock when his hand gripped and started moving around it, soft groans that made your pussy clench leaving his lips. “Then why don’t you open up yourself for me, hm? Let me see that pretty pussy of yours.” you moaned at his hungry gaze, tongue sliding through his bottom lip as your hands snaked down your chest and stomach to your thighs and later on, your folds, your fingers digging on your wetness just to open them up, giving him a full view of your twitching hole and clit. “Fuck. Atta girl. You’re so good baby, so good for me.” you whimpered, hips pushing against his own when he was once again in between your thighs, tip sliding though your folds and bumping your clit, making you moan and your head fall back.

Your hands quickly found the bottom of his shirt, and later, his bare back, your eyes wandering on the ink that decorated his skin. You’d seen it before, of course, since he mostly wandered around shirtless in his van, but it never failed to amaze you. It was just so beautiful… He moaned when your nails dig on his shoulder blades, his dick twitching against your entrance and slightly pushing against it and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Eddie, I need you, please God, I need you…” you babbled out, pushing against him and pulling him closer, the grip on your hip tightened as he smirked.

“Who are you begging to baby? Me or God?” his mouth hovered over your neck, his tongue flattening in a long wet strip from your collarbones to your ear, whispering there and making your skin prickle. “Or maybe I’m both?” you moaned and he just smiled wider. “Yeah?” his eyebrows rose as you nodded, bottom lip in between your teeth and breath hitching when his tip pushed inwards once again, teasing you. “Am I your God, sweetheart?” you nodded again, moaning when he softly bit your jaw. “Then pray to me.” he mumbled, his tip finally pushing and gaining a lustful and painful whine from your lips. “Worship me.” he groaned as he slowly thrusted in your wetness, cursing under his breath since you were so tight he felt like exploding.

Sure, it hurt. It was your first time. You hadn’t even ever touched yourself before that night, Eddie’s fingers doing the honors to let you know that that kind of pleasure was possible in a human being. And that it was okay. Your bedroom floor hadn’t cracked open to let you fall to Hell, like you’d feared, instead, rising you to Heaven, higher and higher above the clouds and nearer the sun.

He was so big that you felt like dying, so heavy and warm inside you that had you all messed up and crying under him due to the desire and pleasure that surrendered you to his touch. Your tears bringing him to groan as he bottomed out, he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t yet believe that he was inside you, fucking you, making you cry and beg for him. “Fuck.” he cursed, trying to focus on not cumming on the spot, trying to ignore the way your walls surrounded him and your body twitched, nails digging in his back as you rocked against him. “So good, baby. You’re such a good girl.” you whimpered, his hands wondering around your body and giving you soft squeezes as encouragement. He was waiting for you, waiting for the pain to dissipate and you to get used to him being deep inside you. When your rocking became more noticeable, he smiled at your pretty moans.

“Eddie…” you called out for him, gasping for air when he pulled out ‘till only the tip remained inside and thrusted back in, hitting something inside you that made you see stars and cry out.

“That’s it.” he cooed, pounding on you once again, hair caressing your chest and his lips brushing against yours. “Such a pretty girl taking my cock.” you whimpered, his tongue pushing inside your mouth and kissing you dirtily as his groans made you gasp. It was too much. Too much. “Take it, doll. Take my cock. Just like that, fuck. Good girl.” you moaned his name as his hips started to take up on speed. “You like that? Like my cock? This sweet pussy of yours seems to love it.” he smirked as a new thrust let you hear the dirt sounds of your juices against his dick. “So greedy, sucking me in so good. Such a slut.” you screamed when his hand fell harshly against the side of your thigh.

The only thing you could do was moan his name over and over again, the constant hitting to that sweet spot inside you driving you crazy and nearing you to that now known feeling of relief.

“Look at you, so cock drunk you can’t even talk.” he laughed, thrusting harder, deeper, faster… “You’re drooling all over yourself, baby.” you gagged when two of his fingers went into your mouth, drool dampening them and spilling over your chin. “What a pretty girl. So pretty letting me fuck her just how I want.” he moaned when your walls tightened around him. “Taking me so good. Such a good little toy.” you cried, his fingers making your pleading all muffled and broken. “You liked that, baby? Like me to treat you badly?” another slap on your thigh had you nodding like crazy, his name falling off of tour lips when his fingers left your mouth only to wrap around your throat, making the oxygen hardly full your lungs and blood flow to your brain.“I’m sure you’d let me cum in you, isn’t that right. I can bet you even want it. Want my cum filling you up so good you’d beg me for it every goddamn day, isn’t that right, gorgeous?” you nodded, begging for it and making him grunt on your mouth, his tongue pushing against your lips. You choked at the feeling of his fingers digging on your neck, his name falling off your lips like a church song.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…” new tears streamed down your face when his fingers found your clit. And by the way you were tightening around him he new you were close.

“Gonna cum baby? Gonna cum on my cock?” you nodded, moans closer to each other. “What a good girl. Cum for me baby, let me hear you.” you didn’t even wait to do so, cumming so hard you swore the world was falling to pieces around you, your sweet choked out whimpers making him lose control, fucking you harshly and mercilessly, your hands leaving his shoulders to press against his stomach, scratching him when he wouldn’t even let you rest from your high, which never seemed to finish.

“Too much, it’s… It’s too much, Eddie, please…” you begged, choked by his hand, feeling the constant pounding build something different inside you. “Stop! Stop… Something’s… Something’s gonna come out!” you begged, but he didn’t seemed to listen, too out of it due to just how pretty you looked crying and getting the shit fucked out of you by his cock.

He moaned at your arching back and high pitched scream, juices gushing out of your pussy and dampening his cock, thighs and your sheets. His eyes widened when he seemed to understand what had just happened.

“Did you just… Fuck baby. Did you just squirted?” you were a crying mess under him, too overwhelmed to even answer or really understand what had just happened. “Fuck, that was so hot. I’m gonna fucking cum.” he moaned as his thrusts became sloppier and his groans louder, fucking you faster but not as deep as he sought his own release while his name fell off your lips over and over again. “y/n, ah fuck, so good, I’m gonna cum so hard… Gonna fill you up so good, so full…” he moaned when after one, two, three more deep thrusts he spilled in you, painting your walls in white and making you moan at the feeling, your name falling off his lips on whimpers when his arms gave out and fell on top of you.

The two were a goddamn mess, all sticky and sweaty, you whimpered when he kissed you once again, this kiss being sloppier and more lazy, sweet. A little gasp left your lips when his fingers tightened around your necklace and pulled, stealing it from your neck. “You won’t be needing this anymore.” he smirked, instead taking his own off his neck, the one with his red pick dangling, and pulling it over your head. “Since from now on you’d be on your knees for me, hm?” you nodded, sighing when his lips where back to yours, hissing a little bit when he pulled out of you, cum dripping down your thighs onto the wet sheets as he put on your own necklace, the cross shining under your lamp’s light. “You’re mine now, sweetheart.”

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#eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things season 4 #st4 #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader

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alovesongtheywrote · 6 months

Text

Hide and Seek | Eddie Munson x Reader

♥ Summary: When your first meeting with boyfriend's family goes off the rails to a murderous degree, you call your cute co-worker for help. as it turns out, he has a couple demonic tricks up his sleeves [Demon!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader]

♥ Warnings: 18+, minors and ageless blogs dni. graphic violence, extreme gore, a rape metaphor, threats of sa, vomiting, stabbing, murder and attempted murder, gun related violence, violence against women, derogatory terms used for the reader by someone other than eddie (whore, slut, skank), multiple side characters infer that the only purpose of individuals with wombs is to have children/make sacrifices for others, unprotected sex, p in v sex, mild breeding kink, monster fucking, angst, mediocre smut imo, fluff. if you've ever seen ready or not, take that, and combine it with labour paris paloma. if i missed anything, please let me know so i can tag it

♥ A/N: other content tags include: modern au. demon au. there's vague lore to this, i might write a follow up. for more author's note, please check the bottom of this post.

♥ Word count: 23041

♥♥♥

“Grace couldn't be happier after she marries the man of her dreams at his family's luxurious estate. There's just one catch- she must now hide from midnight until dawn while her new in-laws hunt her down with guns, crossbows and other weapons.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you hissed, snatching the movie away from your coworker, “Do not read that shit to me right now, I’m anxious enough as it is.”

A laugh slipped out from Eddie’s soft lips as he scrunched his face up in sympathy, “That bad, huh?”

“Don’t laugh at me,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands, “I never should’ve agreed to this. I’m so stupid.”

Eddie shrugged, pouting slightly, “No, you’re stupid for other reasons. This isn’t stupid. This is far from stupid. You’re just meeting your boyfriend’s family, I mean, that was gonna happen one way or another, right?”

You didn’t give a verbal response right away. You just let out a pained scream, muffling the sound of it with your palms.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Eddie gave your arm a sympathetic pat.

“It’s just,” you pulled your hands away from your face, “It feels so soon- and I didn’t think my first meeting with them would be a weekend long getaway at their giant fucking mansion. How the fuck am I supposed to deal with that? A giant fucking mansion? Who the fuck has a giant mansion in this economy?”

“Your boyfriend’s parents.”

You let out another distressed sound, “I mean, I knew Roman had money, I just… I didn’t know it was McMansion money.”

Eddie nodded, hopping up on the counter of the always quiet video store, “I see. So what exactly are you afraid of here? Slipping on marble floors? Breaking their solid gold antiques? Using the wrong fork in such an egregious fashion that you get yelled at?”

“Honestly, I’m mostly afraid of blaspheming or something. His parents are like, hyper-Catholic.”

A smile crossed your face, but it faded far too fast for Eddie’s taste, “God, his parents are gonna hate me.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy, or an adorable baby cow. You weren’t entirely sure how he managed to pull off that expression. Everything about his appearance seemed to scream tough, scary metalhead- except for his eyes. His eyes betrayed the fact that under layers of leather, chains, and eyeliner, Eddie Munson was deeply kind.

“And now you’ve lost me,” he leaned back, tipping himself over the counter to a dangerous level, “How could anyone hate you, angel?”

“Eddie, I work a minimum wage job in a nearly-defunct movie store that sells DVDs. I go to a community college for a degree that won’t take me anywhere. I’m pathetic, and I have no energy ninety percent of the time, and even though I’m going to try and look nice this weekend, I know I’ll look like a mess. I’m nothing. I’m nothing, and I’m going nowhere, and in a hundred years I won’t be anything more than a footnote on a footnote on their son’s wikipedia page. They’re gonna see that I’m not good enough for him. I’m never gonna be enough for him and they’re gonna hate me for it.”

“Sweetheart-” his eyes were wide. He looked completely shocked, taken aback that you saw yourself as nothing.

“You know, whenever we get an angry customer, everyone here hides behind you?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, unsure of where this was going. Eddie continued, “It’s because you’re strong as hell and you’re terrifying- and you can make anyone see reason. You’re smart as fuck and you take no shit from anyone. You’re the furthest thing in the world from pathetic..”

“You’re just saying that-”

“I’m not!” he leaned forward, “I promise! And I mean, besides all that, you’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met- and you’re definitely the hottest.”

“Are you sure about that?” you asked, finally cracking a smile, “You know Steve.”

“‘The Hair?’ Well, I mean, I have eyes, I know he’s gorgeous, but you? You’re a total knockout,” he threw a few punches into the air. You couldn’t hold back your laugh.

He smiled at you, just admiring the way you wheezed at his eccentricities.

“You aren’t nothing,” he said as your laughter subsided.

“I know,” you didn’t really believe your own words. You were pretty sure he picked up on that.

“I’m serious! You could have the entire world if you wanted it. Forget a hundred years, I give it six months before the Earth is yours.”

“Are you sure about that?” “Six months! Then the world is yours and the rest of us are just living in it.”

You scoffed, hopping up on the counter beside him, “Make it four.”

“Or less!”

A soft, content silence passed over the two of you. You watched as Eddie’s long, slender fingers tapped a beat into his thigh. You reached out, taking his hand into your own, running your thumb over the blue veins that lay beneath his skin. God, you didn’t know a person could have such beautiful hands.

“Still,” with his hand still in yours, you leaned into his shoulder, using it as an oddly soft pillow while you spoke, “Even if I am taking over the world, I haven’t done it yet- so this weekend is going to fucking suck.”

“Hey, if there’s anyone who can deal with hellish in-laws, it would be you. Pretend they’re just customers. If anyone can deal with a couple of rich in-laws for a weekend, it’s you.”

“Is it?” you sighed, “Or are they gonna kill me because I used the wrong salad fork?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, a smirk crossing his lips. He gave your hand a squeeze and let go before he jumped off the cash desk, “They’re not gonna kill you, sweetheart. You think Roman would let them?”

“Who knows? Think of Grace. Think of Chris Washington. This could totally be a Get Out, or a Ready or Not!”

You were playing around now, dabbling in worst case scenarios to ease some pressure off of your worried mind. Eddie played along with you, as he so often did.

“You’re right. You’re totally gonna get murdered this weekend. I’ll have to find someone to pick up your Monday shift.”

“I know,” you feigned a wince, “Sorry in advance. I’ll be too busy getting sacrificed to the devil.”

Eddie paused for a split second. His smile wavered so briefly that you didn’t quite catch it as you continued on your dramatic rant.

“And yes, I should have informed the company over text, at least! But!” you shrugged, “I was too busy getting murdered by my in-laws.”

“That’s no excuse!” Eddie gasped, taking on some weird, posh sounding accent- presumably the sound of the bourgeoisie, “You should know that the interests of Family Video come before personal crap like getting murdered.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Boss Man. I’d ask you not to fire me, but, y’know. I’m dead.”

Eddie’s smile returned in full force as he twisted away from you, focusing on the new task of placing films back on their shelves. As you gazed at his back, gears began to turn in your brain. Maybe keeping someone in the know about your whereabouts wouldn’t be such a terrible idea.

“Hey, Eddie? Would it- would it be okay if I did inform you? Over text? If something happens, I mean.”

He paused, and when he spoke again his voice was much softer, “Nothing’s gonna happen to you, sweetheart.”

“I know that. Logically, I know that- I’m talking about a scenario where everything goes terribly wrong and I end up offending the hell out of his parents. If they hate me, can I call you?”

Eddie nodded, his sweet eyes widening as his strong hands wrapped around the plastic case of another film.

“Of course, sweetheart. Of course.”

You bit your lip as you watched him turn. The way Eddie spoke to you filled something inside of you. It met a deep dark need that ached somewhere in your chest. You wondered if, in a different universe- one where you had met Eddie before you met Roman- you would still have that need.

You kept your eyes on Eddie for a few minutes before you finally turned away.

Hours later, the clicking sound of your heels echoed across the front lawn of a rather imposing mansion. The smell of freshly cut grass overtook your senses, nearly covering the underlying stench of metal. Already, the grass was covered in fallen Autumn leaves.

A mildly uncomfortable dress clung to your body, exposing your shoulders to the chill of the early evening air. An expensive bottle of red wine sat heavy in your hands. Behind you, you could hear the muttering of butlers (butlers!) as your luggage was removed from the car you’d arrived in.

Roman stood at your side, his piercing blue eyes dead focused on the door a few paces ahead of you. His suit was perfectly tailored to every sharp edge of his toned form. The harsh scent of his expensive cologne stung your nose. He was the very picture of confidence- next to him, you felt like a lost, sad stray puppy.

“You’re sure about this?” you asked, not bothering to turn to face him. You knew he wouldn’t look you in the eye for a question this trivial, “You really think I’m ready to meet-”

“You are,” there was no hesitation in your paramour’s voice. There was no compassion, either.

“And you think they’re ready to meet me?”

When you were met with silence, you steeled yourself. You took a deep breath, clenching your fists as your lungs filled with the scent of cut grass and cologne.

“Now, the second that door opens, you are quiet and polite, got that? Don’t speak out of turn, laugh softly, and for once in your life, do as I ask.”

You didn’t have time to respond.

The door swung open as you and Roman approached, revealing the smiling faces of a middle aged couple. You had been informed about them on the car ride up- and you didn’t fail to notice the way they looked you up and down, judging you in a practiced silent way.

The woman, Roman’s mother, had short dark hair, styled neatly so her bangs framed her unwrinkled face. From what you’d been told, she was a fan of diamonds, anti-aging creams, and vintage reds- hence the bottle in your hands. The man next to her, Roman’s father, Benedict, shared your boyfriend’s piercing blue eyes. The watch on his wrist was expensive, though you already knew it would be. When it came to the finer things in life, Benedict (never Ben) was something of a collector.

The couple was perfectly warm as they welcomed you into their home. Cecilia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, and Benedict clapped his son on the back, expressing a sort of fatherly pride. Still, as you stepped through the heavy oak doors, you were overwhelmed with a sense of wrongness. It took all your strength to smile through it. You had to ignore every instinct you had- all of which were currently screaming for you to run.

A chill ran up your spine as the doors swung shut behind you, trapping you inside with a heavy thud. Someone took the wine from your hands. You had no choice now. You were in.

You tried to shake off your unease as you moved through the hallways. Each space you entered dripped with the trappings of wealth. Everything was crafted with fine materials by the very best craftsmen. The decorations were decadent and modern and entirely overwhelming. You could just tell that everything in this house was more expensive than your car.

You did your best to listen as Cecilia and Benedict took turns delivering the history of the marble floors and fancy trims, but you couldn’t help but focus on their taste in wall decor. Oil portraits hung on the walls; painted visages of men and women stared down from golden frames. Their bodies were bathed in painted finery, and their eyes seemed to watch you as you passed through their hallway.

“Ah, I see you have an eye for art!” Benedict exclaimed, stepping away from your side for a moment to gesture to the portrait of one woman in specific. She had the saddest honey-brown eyes you had ever seen. You wanted to reach out and hold her hand- which was odd, considering the fact that she was a painting.

Benedict continued, ignoring you as you became lost in your own mind, “These paintings are all originals, all commissioned by the family.”

Your eyes followed the line of portraits as far as you could see. In each gilded frame, a different face peered out at you with sad, desperate eyes.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Cecilia took your elbow in her hand, pulling you closer to the painting of the brown-eyed girl, “She was Benedict's darling first wife. She passed so tragically young.”

Her words told a tragic tale, but her tone was nothing short of upbeat. You stood straighter, becoming more aware of Cecilia’s proximity to you and the smile on her face as she continued to speak of Benedict’s late partner.You couldn’t help but notice that the woman in the frame was missing a ring.

“She died in childbirth, as did her baby- her only child. When she left us, we had this portrait made.”

“Tragically, that’s the case with most of these old things,” Roman said, placing a hand on the small of your back, “When a LeBuer passes, we commemorate their life with art. It’s a nice way to keep them close- to keep them from leaving. Someday soon, you’ll join them.”

You nodded, entirely unsure of how to respond to that statement. All of your jokes with Eddie had been just that- jokes. Now, however, with the eyes of the portraits boring into you, you were actually starting to get freaked out.

“Come now,” Benedict’s voice boomed through the hallway as he guided the group away from the portrait and down the corridor, “It would be rude to leave the rest of the family waiting.”

“Oh, yes. They’ve all been so excited to meet you! Roman has told us such wonderful things.”

You peered at Roman from the corner of your eye, wondering what, exactly, he had told his family. He kept his gaze on the portrait, glaring at the woman within as if she had done him a personal injustice. He remained there, stock still with that look on his face until his parents pulled you away, leaving Roman behind.

A short ways away, the hall opened up into a second foyer that was somehow even grander than the first. A chaise lounge sat in the middle of the room. On a small table next to it, dried flowers sat perfectly arranged in a vase that definitely cost more than you could hope to make in a lifetime. An elegant staircase twisted up one wall. Beneath it stood an oak door, covered from top to bottom with fine gold detailing. When you looked closer, you could see that the gold made up tiny illustrations of what you had to assume were biblical stories.

The other walls were decorated with more portraits. More finely dressed men and women, more piercing eyes staring down from gilded frames. You suppressed a shiver of discomfort.

Roman’s parents stopped you just as you reached the door beneath the stairs. Benedict stood behind you, keeping a firm grip on your shoulders as Cecilia gathered your hands in her own.

“Now, some members of the family were unable to make it- tonight you’ll be meeting our daughter Medea-”

“And her no good husband,” Benedict continued, the tone of his voice and Cecilia’s eye roll betraying the truth behind his joke.

“You’ll also meet our eldest son, Adam, and Roman’s aunt and uncle, their son, and-”

“Cathrine,” Roman announced his return to the group, “You’ll get to meet Cathrine.”

Honestly, you had no clue who the fuck that was. Cathrine could’ve been the family pet for all you knew- but something about the way Roman’s lips curved around her name, the way his voice took on a tender tone that he never even used with you- that said otherwise.

“Are you ready, dear?” Cecilia took your hands in hers again as she asked. Her words were kind, but you couldn’t help but think her smile looked fake. You drew in a harsh breath. Your heart began to race in your chest. You drew your lower lip between your teeth, nibbling at it as your nerves twisted in an anxious dance. Cecilia’s hand drifted up towards her neck, where she laid a few dainty fingers over a necklace- a gold chain and a crucifix. For a split second, and only a split second, you could see disgust cross her face.

“I-” you stuttered, “I think I need a moment.”

Cecilia said nothing. She no longer looked like she wanted to throw up at the very sight of you, but there was still a cold look in her eyes. Benedict was unaffected by his wife’s sudden frost.

“Just as well! We’ll let the family know you’ve arrived.”

He took his wife by the elbow and gestured for his son to follow, guiding them both through the massive doors into what looked like a void of darkness. Before you could question it, the patriarch’s voice called out to you.

“Come in soon, dear. They’re waiting for you.”

You smiled, attempting to cover the tremor that ran through you at the echoing sound of Benedict’s voice. The second the doors shut behind the happy family, you let your facade drop. You collapsed onto the chaise lounge. At a different time, you might’ve felt glamorous doing that, in the moment, you just felt anxious.

Moving quickly, you pulled your phone from your dress pocket. Your lockscreen was a photo of you and Roman at a beach. His arm was wrapped around you, his eyes and smile confident and self assured. Beside him, you simply looked inadequate- tired and anxious. Unlocking the phone, you were met with your homescreen- a photo of you and Eddie where the flash made his eyes go red- and a text from the man himself.

EDDIE: hope you got to the haunted mansion safe and sound (ooooooo ooooooo *spooky sounds*)

Your thumbs flew as you typed a response.

Y/N: i’m here, and i haven’t been murdered yet. this place is fucking *weird* though

EDDIE: what brand of weird are we talkin?? good weird? bad weird? me weird? that time gareth got drunk and tried to organize the gravel behind my place weird?

You paused, smiling before you resumed typing.

Y/N: ok, tbh, i don’t think anything is gonna top gareth weird

Y/N: but things are like… weird weird.

Y/N: i don’t mean to be a bitch. his family is perfectly nice, it’s just… they have paintings?? oil paintings of all these dead people. apparently they’re all relatives, but there are so many of them

EDDIE: huh

EDDIE: maybe it isn’t ready or not, maybe you’re in crimson peak, and one of his relatives is murdering all of their wives

EDDIE: hey if you see tom hiddleston wandering around looking sad, lmk, i wanna get in on that

Y/N: ha ha, very funny

Y/N: but seriously, i hate these damn paintings- it feels like the eyes are following me

Y/N: I’m On Edge, eds. seriously, Roman told me I was gonna join the paintings on the wall one day, and maybe it was a marriage proposal, but it felt more like a threat

There was a pause, a moment where all you had were three little dots telling you he was typing. For a split second, the storm of anxiety brewing in your chest threatened to overtake you. Your breath came in harsh pants as your hands began to shake. Eddie would think you were overreacting. It was just a comment from your boyfriend- you thought for sure Eddie would call you crazy. Roman would have called you crazy.

EDDIE: do you want me to come get you? I can be there in half an hour if i drive fast enough

Just like that, the storm faded. The thundering beat of your heart returned to normal. You couldn’t help the grin that crossed your face as you stared at your phone, nor could you withhold the relieved sigh that left your lungs.

Y/N: don’t break any traffic laws for me just yet… but leave your phone on, just in case

EDDIE: as you wish. stay safe, sweetheart

You stared at your phone until the screen went black, trying to fight the warmth that crept up your face. After years of knowing Eddie, those damn pet names never lost their effect on you. You tried to shake it off, steeling yourself to prepare for your next challenge.

In-laws.

With a calming deep breath- and then a second and third calming deep breath when the first one didn’t do its job- you pushed open the doors and made your way into the next impossibly fancy room.

Immediately, you were overcome with the sense that the very act of entering this room was a massive mistake. It was almost as if the space itself knew you did not belong inside of it.

A wide, oval shaped table took center stage in the middle of the room. Like everything else in the house, it was finely crafted- and probably custom made. The surface was carved with strange, intricate shapes. Chairs had been scattered around it haphazardly, as if a family sat down only to get right back up again. The walls were covered in paintings alongside various taxidermied trophies from various hunts. Unlike the paintings, the glass eyes of the deer, foxes, rabbits and bears didn’t seem to follow you. Two cabinets sat at the far end of the room, both well stocked with guns and other weapons that you could just see through beautiful glass panes.

The entire LeBuer family fell silent and turned to face you, as if you had rudely interrupted each and every one of their conversations.

You stood there for a moment, facing Roman’s family with wide eyes. His parents were standing with a pregnant woman, her hands clutching the arm of the man that stood beside her. That would probably be Medea and her husband if Benedict ’s clenched fists were anything to go by. Across the room from them, another couple stood talking to two young men, presumably Roman’s aunt and uncle, his brother and his cousin. At the very back of the room, in front of a massive portrait of a dark-eyed man with a devilish smirk, stood Roman. With him was a woman you did not recognize. Cathrine.

Each and every one of them wore an expression like you had just kicked their dog. Lovely.

The room seemed to drop a few degrees in the following moments. Silence filled the air as you stared at the family, and they stared back. You had half a mind to turn right back around and call Eddie, and you were about to follow through with it when Benedict moved towards you.

“Ladies and gentlemen! And other creatures of the night,” he pointed at Roman’s uncle with a grin, “It is my honour and privilege to introduce you to the newest member of the family.”

You felt like that was a bit extreme, but really, you were just glad someone was talking.

“Miss (L/N),” Benedict ’s hand was on your back, guiding you through the room, “I’d like to introduce you to my brother, his lovely wife, their son, Alexander, and our boy Adam.”

You tried to hide the tremor in your fingers as you made your introductions and shook their hands. Roman’s aunt and uncle gave you polite but cold smiles. Alexander looked completely uninterested in you. Adam almost looked too interested. He wouldn’t let go of your hand until you pulled away with moderate force. The smell of his cologne was overwhelming.

The storm of anxiety Eddie had eased moments before had returned in full. You could feel it clawing at your ribs- it was a force of nature that became less like a weather event and more like a feral creature the longer you stood in that room. Every moment you spent speaking to Roman’s family was a moment your instincts screamed at you for not running away.

But you were being silly. These were just nerves. You wanted to make a good impression. You wanted to get along with Roman’s family. You wanted them to approve of you- to make him happy. He wasn’t even looking at you. Even as you crossed the room, as you were introduced to his sister and his brother-in-law, his eyes stayed on that other woman. Cathrine.

“We’re so excited that Roman has finally found someone,” Medea let go of her husband’s arm, placing her hands over her bump, “Maybe our little guy will have a friend to run around with someday soon.”

You didn’t even try to make your laugh sound genuine. You just smiled, and nodded, and pretended you were totally down with that idea.

You were not totally down with that idea.

“Roman!” Benedict called out, “Come here, son. Introduce your sweet girl to dear (Y/N).”

It took you a moment to process Benedict ’s words- his phrasing was odd, and perhaps it would be a touch hurtful if you were a jealous woman.

Across the room, Roman took Cathrine’s hand, cradling it gently in his. He looked at her like she was precious to him, as if she was something he’d searched all of time and space for and finally found. He looked at her as if she was a divine and expensive creature.

If you were a jealous woman, this would have been more than a touch hurtful- it would have been a punch hurtful, perhaps. Roman never looked at you that way.

“(Y/N), dear, this is Cathrine,” those weren’t Roman’s words. He didn’t even bother to introduce you to her. His mother did, “She was a childhood friend of Roman’s.”

“They’ve always been close,” Benedict said, putting a hand on your shoulder. It was probably meant to be reassuring, but it felt like a dead weight on your back, pushing you forward into the event horizon of a black hole.

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for so long,” Cathrine smiled at you, her voice was sweet as honey- with a special sort of poison lurking just beneath, “Roman’s told me so many good things.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” you tapped your fingers against your wrist in a rapid, anxious rhythm, “I’d be a little sad if he only told you bad things.”

Cathrine laughed, but the sound was fake; a cheap plastic vase in the place of a porcelain one. You knew your joke was bad, but still, the sound put you on edge. When her tiny nose wrinkled with laughter, you were almost sure she was scowling at you. As her chest rose and fell, you caught sight of her choice of jewelry- a gold chain with a dainty crucifix.

“Oh,” she hummed, “You’re so funny! That’s such a good trait. You’re so pretty, too. I’m so glad Roman picked you.”

She looked at you the way a hawk would look at its prey moments before they tore it into little tiny pieces. You thanked her quickly and cast your gaze to the floor, unable to stare down her bloodthirsty expression.

You didn’t have to avoid her gaze for long. The massive doors creaked open. The sound echoed through the room. Neatly dressed men in white shirts and black dress pants filed through, each of them carrying a tray with a single flute of champagne on it. It seemed incredibly inefficient, but you were just happy that something had distracted Cathrine from her murderous thoughts.

Benedict took his place at the head of the table, standing behind the chair that you assumed was his. The rest of the family followed suit. There was a place saved for you beside Roman. Feeling petty, you took a spot away from him- an empty seat closer to the head of the table. No one seemed to mind, and the place that would have been yours was filled by Alexander.

“My beloved family,” Benedict raised his glass, “A toast! To good company, good fortune, and a bright future.”

You watched Roman’s family toast and drink. You did the same. You had never tasted such salty champagne.

Benedict continued, “To my brother-” he turned to Roman’s uncle, but you could not make out the man’s face. You shook your head, trying to clear your head. Benedict’s voice became briefly inaudible as your vision blurred.

No one paid you any mind. Roman’s father continued, his glass still held aloft, “To my darling wife-”

You gripped onto your glass, breath coming fast as Benedict’s voice faded in and out. Black dots swam in front of you. Something was very wrong.

“My dear children. You have ensured that our family will prosper for yet another generation. First, my sweet Medea, and now Roman. You’ve brought home the perfect girl- and the perfect sacrifice.”

You couldn’t have heard that right. The world seemed to sway, spinning around as you tried to stay steady on your feet. Your stomach flipped and your throat burned as you fought the urge to vomit all over the table.

“You’ve done an excellent job, Roman,” Cecilia’s voice was immeasurably fond. Her eyes were on you.

“Did you really have to pick such a cute sacrifice, though?” Medea whined, “Now your kid is going to be cuter than mine.”

“Does the demon have a preference?”

You stumbled backwards, champagne glass slipping from your hand as you tripped away from the family. The sound of shattering glass was entirely lost on you.

“What-” your voice was weak. You could barely hear yourself over the static in your ears, “What the fuck-?”

“Relax now, dear,” Benedict put a hand on your shoulder, “You will come to understand in time.”

You jerked away from him, nearly collapsing to the floor in your haste to get away. You could see Roman approaching you, hands outstretched as if you were some feral creature he wanted to soothe.

“Darling,” he whispered. You couldn’t hear him, you could only see his lips moving.

“The drugs are in her system, Roman. You’ll have to speak up.”

Roman sighed, throwing his hands in the air as if annoyed that he’d have to expend anymore energy on calming you. You were kind of used to that gesture, actually.

“(Y/N), darling- my family has a tradition. We can’t further the family line until-”

“Until we spill the blood of an innocent and summon the ancient gods,” Cathrine spoke, stepping towards Roman and wrapping her arms around his waist. She grinned as confusion spilled across your features, and she spoke to you as if you were a small child, “Don’t you understand? You’re here because I wanted to have a child with my husband.”

Ice spilled through your veins as realization sunk in. The agony of betrayal bit at your heels like the feral dog this family imagined you to be. Anguish spread through you, burning in your throat and behind your eyes. You were hurt, you were sick, and over everything else, you were annoyed.

Because you had been right, and Eddie would never hear about it from you.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Roman took a step closer, “I wasn’t the only one in our relationship who loved someone else. I had Cathrine. You had that boy from your work. You should have stayed with him.”

Roman’s words stung like tiny razors dancing across your skin. Of course this was mostly because he was excusing his own deceit, but it was also because he was kind of right. You didn’t want to admit it. You didn’t want your killer to be right about anything- but here, in what could be your last moments, you were thinking of Eddie.

You made an attempt at retreat, but your back hit something. A cabinet.

Roman’s eyes were on you. His family’s eyes were on you. His wife’s eyes were on you. Your intuition had been right all along- you were the prey, and they were the hunters. You were never welcome here. You were never going to be welcome here. Your mind raced, eyes flitting around as you tried to find a way out. They were going to kill you. Roman’s family was going to kill you in a stupid, cliche way.

But the LeBuer family, in their infinite wisdom, had made a mistake.

They backed their prey into a cabinet filled with guns.

You let out a shuddering breath, folding in on yourself as you tried to project the image of a woman defeated. You let out a sob, a genuine sound, even though it was a distraction.

“You’re right,” your voice betrayed your terror, “For both our sakes. I should have stayed with Eddie.”

Roman didn’t have time to ask what you meant. None of them did, and you couldn’t imagine them being super curious about what you had to say, anyway. You were livestock to them. Something to stab so that they could further their family lineage, or whatever the fuck they had said. You couldn’t remember it clearly, and as you stood, the thought completely vanished from your mind.

Adrenaline flooded through your system as you threw your elbow into the glass panes of the display cabinet. You didn’t feel the glass pierce your skin, or your blood dripping over the wood. You just felt the solid reassuring presence of a weapon in your hands.

You weren’t sure if it was loaded. Even if it was, you were not confident in your ability to shoot straight given your drugged state. Therefore, when the first of Roman’s family members approached you, you decided to use the shotgun in your hands as a club.

Alex went down like a fucking chump.

You hit him in the face and he collapsed to the floor with a sharp screech. Adam was next. You ducked under his open arms and nailed him on the inside of his thigh with the butt of the gun. Just as he fell to the ground, Roman’s uncle moved in. You jumped up, hitting his chin from below and sending him stumbling into his wife.

The other members of the family began to back away. You turned the gun in your arms, aiming it at them as if you knew what you were doing. They raised their hands in surrender. You kept the weapon trained on them as you began to stumble through the room, your back to the wall as you headed for the door.

“Now, (Y/N), sweetheart,” Cecilia began, “You have to understand- this is for the greater good! Your sacrifice would give Roman and Cathrine the ultimate gift- a child! Don’t you want that for them? Don’t they deserve it? The joys of mother and fatherhood?”

“Isn’t this your place as a woman?” Adam decided to join in, “To give life? Don’t you want to fulfill your duty as a woman?”

“Don’t you love our son, (Y/N)?” Benedict asked, “Please, help him with this. No marriage is truly blessed without children.”

You almost lowered the weapon, shocked at their audacity, “It was never gonna work out. Turns out he’s married.”

You were almost there, almost out. Just another few steps, and then you could run. You didn’t know how far you would get, how long the adrenaline would last, but it had to get you somewhere, right?

You would call Eddie. You had to call Eddie.

Just as you formed a concrete plan in your mind, someone’s arms wrapped around your throat. They pulled you back, nearly throwing you to the floor before you had a chance to fight back. You scratched at their hands with your free one, managing to draw blood. The angle was awkward, but you did your best, using the gun to try and beat them away from you. They tried their best to pry the thing from your hands. You fought back. Their arm was tight against your windpipe. With their other hand, they reached down. Their finger wrapped around the trigger.

The sound of a shot made your ears ring. The arms around your throat dropped in a millisecond. You stumbled away, hand wrapping around the gun as you dared to glance behind you.

Roman’s uncle was on the ground. The space where his face had been was nothing more than a mass of blood, bits of skull, and scattered brains.

You aimed the gun at your hunters. You could faintly hear Roman’s aunt screaming, but you tuned her out. It was easy enough- your ears were still ringing.

“Are you still going to kill me?”

There was a moment of silence. Blood pooled on the marble floor near your feet. The light from the chandelier caught on the broken champagne glass you’d left on the floor. You were seeing double again.

Roman nodded. So did the second, drug fueled vision of him that only you could see.

“Fine,” you hissed, shutting your eyes against the harsh reality you were facing. When you opened them again, Roman was much closer, staring you down with a look of pure disappointment. The fucking audacity of these people. You turned the gun in your hands again, hitting him in the dead center of his face.

“Good luck with that.”

With that, you were gone, tearing out the doors and down the hallways. The mansion that Roman’s family called home was a fucking maze. Even without the drugs coursing through your system, you would’ve been lost in seconds. The only thing you could do was find a place to hide.

You let out a small laugh at the thought. Your night had, despite all improbabilities, actually turned into Ready or Not- a cursed game of hide and seek that would end with somebody dying. You would never let Eddie forget this.

That is, if you saw him again. To do that, you needed to survive long enough to call him, and get help. You could do that- you had to believe that you could do that.

You could hear voices and footsteps far down the hallway. Someone was coming. With your goal in mind, you ran. It was a struggle to avoid falling or tripping over the stupidly lavish hallway runner. There were no significant landmarks to tell you where you were going. There were no windows, no doors, and every damned wall was covered in those paintings. The portraits with sad eyes watched as you tried to make your escape. You weren’t afraid of them anymore.

After coming upon two dead ends, you finally found some way to make progress. A twisting stairway led up to another floor. You didn’t have time to weigh your options. The voices of your pursuers were only growing louder. With the shotgun in hand, you threw yourself up the stairs and bolted onto the second floor.

Immediately, you were blessed by the last rays of light that the sun had to offer as it sunk below the horizon. You didn’t have time to enjoy it. You just ran down the hallway, past windows and portraits until you finally, finally found a series of doors.

The first few you tried were locked. Sweat pooled in the palms of your hands as you heard someone running up the stairs. The ground seemed to shift beneath your feet when one of the doors finally swung open beneath your palm. Counting yourself lucky, you tucked yourself inside and gently shut the door behind you. Moments later, you heard footsteps thudding passed your hiding place.

You took in your surroundings. You were in a bedroom. Though it was beautiful, the space smelled of dust and neglect. The fine silk sheets on the bed clearly hadn’t been used in some time. A bronze crucifix hung over the bed, though it had been tilted to the side ever so slightly. The rug was expensive, but its red hue had been darkened from dust. The other furnishings had suffered a similar fate.

You took a step forward, trying to explore the room further and get away from the door. Your leg gave out beneath you. Nausea overtook your body as you struggled to stand. The world wouldn’t stop spinning. Again, your vision doubled, though this time it faded to black at the edges.

You were about to pass out.

In a desperate attempt at self preservation, you checked the door behind you. There was no way to lock it- no keyhole, no mechanism, nothing. You glanced at your surroundings again- there was a bed, an oak chest that was far too small for you to fit inside of it, a nightstand, and a door. You had no choice but to crawl to it, dragging yourself across the floor, burning your skin on the rug.

You had fully assumed that this door would lead you to a closet, but to your luck, you found a small ensuite. It was just as neglected as the bedroom- particles of dust floated through the air, coating the counter and catching in the fluffy towels that hung on the wall- but the door had the ability to lock. That was all that really mattered to you.

You slid the shotgun in first, tucking it beside the toilet before you slid yourself in, knees and thighs clinging to the cold tile. The moment you were in, you pulled the door shut behind you and locked it. A moment passed. The silence was broken only by your deep, haggard breathing. Your hands clutched at nothing as you tried to calm the erratic beat of your heart.

Though you desperately needed a second to catch your breath, time was not on your side. Your body shook almost violently on the cold bathroom floor. Your vision continued to darken, and you knew that whatever drugs were in your system would slowly drag you under if you let them. You didn’t know if you would wake up from that.

Pulling yourself over to the toilet, you made yourself vomit to the best of your ability. You did everything you could do. Still, the world swam in front of you. As you faded from consciousness, you managed to pull your phone out from your pocket. Roman’s smiling face mocked you from the screen as you unlocked the damn thing. In the final moments before the world went dark, you managed to send out one text. You hoped that Eddie left his phone on.

Y/N: sos. sos. please.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your phone clattered to the floor. Night fell as you lay there, alone and asleep on the bathroom floor. All the while, Roman’s family searched for you, becoming more agitated as they did.

The sound of your phone vibrating against the tile floor pulled you from your sleep. The bathroom was dark and cold, and you shivered as you sat up. Your skull ached. Your throat stung. Your limbs hung heavy at your sides. In other words, you felt like total fucking garbage, and in that sweet moment before you remembered what hell you were living in, you swore you were going to shatter your phone for robbing you from your peaceful sleep.

And then you remembered that you were in deep, deep shit.

You immediately began to search for your phone, pawing mindlessly through the darkness with only the occasional vibration to guide you. When your fingers wrapped around the sweet little device, you almost cried tears of joy. You unlocked it quickly, wincing at the agonizingly bright light that spilled from your screen.

Your phone was flooded with missed calls and texts, not only from Eddie, but from Steve, Robin, and Nancy. Your dear friend had raised the alarms- and you were so thankful that he did.

EDDIE: what’s up?? are you ok???

EDDIE: what’s going on???

EDDIE: (Y/N)???

EDDIE: do you need me to come get you??

EDDIE: is this a joke?? if this is a joke, it fucking sucks :(

EDDIE: you’re freaking me out, man

He called you. Of course, you hadn’t been awake to answer.

EDDIE: come onnnnn, (Y/N), pick up the phone

EDDIE: ok, im making steve call you

EDDIE: if this is a joke, he’s gonna be so mad

EDDIE: he’s gonna go full dad on you, just wait

EDDIE: and if it isn’t

EDDIE: please tell me this is a joke

There was a missed call from Steve, then a missed call from Robin. The latter had spammed your phone with texts and direct messages, sending you your name a thousand times on three different apps. Steve had sent a few frantic texts of his own. Both Steve and Robin were clearly worried by the end of it, but neither of them could top Eddie. From his texts alone, you could tell he was terrified, and that was without all the missed calls (of which there were at least 20 and at most 200. You didn’t bother to read the number correctly.)

A twinge of guilt ran through you as you kept reading.

EDDIE: ok, you aren’t answering steve or robin

EDDIE: i don’t like this

EDDIE: please tell me what’s wrong

EDDIE: please

EDDIE: if you don’t respond, i’m calling hopper

EDDIE: i swear to christ

EDDIE: (Y/N) my heart can’t take this, please pick up your phone

EDDIE: ok, that’s it, im calling hopper

That was the most recent message. You responded.

Y/N: do it and hurry

EDDIE: HOLY FUCK YOU’RE ALIVE

EDDIE: thank god

Y/N: i need you to come get me, now

Y/N: please

EDDIE: i'm on my way

EDDIE: are you okay? can you tell me what’s going on?

There was no way you could tell him- not through text, anyway. There was no way he would believe you based on words alone. You tapped his name in your contacts list and hit the little phone icon. He picked up on the first ring.

“(Y/N)? Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

His voice was distorted by static, but you could still hear every ounce of his concern. Your body warmed as tears pooled in your eyes.

“I- I don’t even know, Eds,” you cringed as your voice cracked, but Eddie didn’t miss a beat.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Just take deep breaths for me, angel. You don’t have to say anything, Just stay where you are, I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay. Okay, just be careful. They-” you paused, taking a shuddering breath as you remembered the feeling of drugs coursing through your veins, of an arm around your throat and hands grasping at your body. You knew it had happened. The shotgun lying beside you and the blood spattered across your body told you that. Still, you barely believed that any of it was real.

“What did they do? If they hurt you, I swear to god-”

“I think they drugged me,” you sounded so painfully small, broken in the middle of this strange bathroom, “They drugged me, and Roman’s uncle tried to choke me, and I- they said something about sacrifice?”

“What the fuck?” Eddie sounded just as terrified as you felt, “I’m calling Hop, he’ll meet us there.”

“Call an ambulance too, please. I don’t know what they gave me, and I feel sick.”

“I will. Just hang on, sweet girl, just hang on for me.”

“Okay,” you whispered as tears finally spilled down your cheeks.

The line fell silent for a moment as your mind raced over the events of the day. With another shaky gasp, you spoke again.

“Roman is married.”

“Shit- what?”

“He’s married. He has a wife. They want to kill me.”

“Jesus H. Christ-”

He’s about to say more when you cut him off, “And Roman’s uncle shot himself in the face. He- he was trying to kill me.”

“Holy fuck- and he shot himself in front of you? God, angel, I’m- I’m so sorry.”

A small, breathy laugh escaped you, “Don’t worry. It was kind of metal.”

It was such a weird joke, but you were coping in whatever way you could. Eddie laughed cautiously over the phone, clearly concerned but allowing you to cope. The line fell silent for a few moments. You could hear him scrambling around, grabbing his keys and trying not to trip over himself. Despite the situation, you were filled with overwhelming affection for the man on the other end of the line.

“I love you, you know,” you weren’t sure he heard you. You didn’t try to speak up, “If I don’t make it out of here, I want you to know that.”

“You’re gonna make it out of there. I promise, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. I love you, too, sweet girl.”

You let out another small, terrible laugh. Tears kept spilling down your cheeks. You couldn’t hold them back anymore.

“Y’know what’s funny? I was right. I’m hiding from my boyfriend’s family members while they try to kill me- this is just like Ready or Not.”

“You’re right. You were right, and this is just like that fucking movie, and you’re gonna get to rub this in my face for the rest of our lives, just stay put, baby. I’ll be there soon, ok?”

Before you could answer, a floorboard creaked somewhere nearby. You pulled the phone away from your ear. Footsteps thudded down the hallway. A chill ran up your spine. You threw yourself away from the door as quietly as you could, seizing the shotgun with your free hand.

The bedroom door opened.

“Eddie,” you whispered, “Someone’s here. I have to go.”

“Okay,” he sounded frantic, “Okay, okay. You go, stay safe, I’ll be there soon, sweetheart. I love you.”

“I love you,” the words were barely there. You hoped to whatever force was out there that he heard you. The light of your phone dimmed down to nothing, and you were left alone in the dark and the quiet.

You slipped your phone into your pocket with the utmost caution, trying not to make even the smallest of sounds. Moving slowly, you wrapped your other hand around the shotgun, holding it in front of you like the world’s worst shield. Someone was breathing on the other side of the door. You could hear them moving around, getting closer and closer to your hiding space.

Suddenly, the bedroom fell silent.

The smell of cologne became overwhelming.

Adam knocked on the door.

“(Y/N)?” he drew out the sound of your name, his voice violating every syllable, “I know you’re in there, sweetheart.”

You remained silent, praying that he would decide that you weren’t actually in the bathroom and leave. Those prayers went unanswered. The doorknob twisted, but it didn’t give. You had locked it. Now Adam knew you were in there.

“Who were you talking to, Miss (L/N)? Was it someone special? No, it couldn’t be, you already have a boyfriend… well, had.”

Something was tapping against the door- something metal.

“But now you know the truth- or at least part of it. Roman is happily tied to the lovely Cathrine, and you’re nothing but a lamb for slaughter.”

Your knuckles were white around the shotgun. Adam went silent for a terrifying moment.

“You’re real a cute lamb, though. It’s a damn shame, if you ask me. A real waste of a body like yours.”

You tried not to gag.

“Y’know,” something dragged across the door, fabric, then metal again, “We could always figure something out. If you came with me, Roman and Cath would just have to find another sacrifice- and we could get a sacrifice of our own.”

You tried to take deep breaths.

“You look like the kinda girl that would like that- summoning a few demons, having a few kids. You’d make a cute little housewife. That’s what girls like you are made for. And I’d treat you better than my shit head brother ever did.”

You remained silent, biting your lip until it bled. The taste of iron spilled into your mouth, but even that wasn’t as vile as the man on the other side of the door.

“On second thought, I might not keep you, Miss (L/N). You’ve been too quiet. I like girls who can scream.”

You could hear the sound of a gun, cocking, loading, fucking whatever, you didn’t know how guns worked. You just knew that you had to do something, and you had to do it now.

Just before the sound of a shot could fracture the uneasy silence, you unlocked the door and threw it open, smacking Adam in the face. He collapsed to the ground in an undignified heap, the gun in his hand skittering across the floor. Without a second thought, you ran for it and kicked the thing into the hallway. When you turned back to Adam, he was still sprawled across the rug, clutching at his face. Blood gushed from his nose, dripping into his mouth and spilling across his lips and chin. You hoped the taste of it was fucking vile.

“YOU FILTHY BITCH!” Adam screamed, “You broke my fucking nose!”

“You deserved it,” you held the shotgun like a bat. You didn’t know how to shoot, but you did know how to hit something with a blunt object.

Before Adam could struggle to his feet, you hit him again, right in his bloodied nose. He shrieked in pain, scrambling back as you went to hit him again. He took his face out of range- an intelligent move, in theory. Unfortunately for Adam, this put his knees right in your line of fire.

You weren’t sure what damage you did, but by the time you’d finished, Adam was curled into himself, and you no longer felt human. You staggered away, covered in the blood of not one, but two of Roman’s family members. Your hand found purchase on the window sill. You leaned against it, desperately trying to catch your breath.

Outside, someone screamed.

You looked down, only to see some of the LeBuers gathered in the driveway. Medea was half-way inside of a car, looking up at you with horror and rage painted across her features. Immediately, half of the people with her raced back into the house. Cecilia remained outside, ushering her daughter and son-in-law into the vehicle before she, too, went back inside.

They all knew where you were now.

You were deeply, deeply fucked.

You could hear Adam laughing at you as you raced into the hallway, scooping the discarded gun into one hand and keeping the shotgun in the other. You sped down the corridor, stopping every now and then to throw open whatever doors you could find. You hoped that Roman’s family would think that you’d disappeared into another hiding place- anything to give yourself more time.

You ducked into one of the open doors just as Roman’s family spilled into the hall. They weren’t quiet in their searching- you could hear Benedict barking orders, and Cecilia’s distressed cry upon finding her beaten and bloodied son. As the hunting party panicked, you slipped into the darkness, moving backwards into an endless and ill-lit corridor that you hadn’t even noticed.

When the voices of your pursuers faded, you finally let yourself turn around. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever into infinite darkness. You could just barely see the frames of portraits that still lined the walls. The floor runner beneath you muffled the sounds of your footsteps, and you followed it diligently, staying silent until you found yet another fucking door.

You held both guns in one hand as you pulled it open. The next room contained another goddamned staircase, this one descending to the floor below. Before you could truly question the design choices of the rich and powerful, someone shoved you forward. You collapsed to the ground, losing your grip on both guns. Exhaustion filled your bones as you watched both weapons tumble down the stairs.

A well polished shoe slammed into your ribs before you could move. You didn’t have the chance to respond before your assailant kicked you again, bruising your ribs if they hadn’t already. You let out a sharp cry as you tried to sit up. Your attacker spat at you as you struggled, and when you looked up, you saw Alex’s disgusted face.

“Get up.”

You didn’t move. You just laid there with a shocked expression on your face. Alex leaned in, grabbing the front of your dress and dragging you to your knees.

“I said get up, you stupid whore.”

This time, you did as he asked, moving slowly as your shocked body tried to catch up with your equally shocked mind.

Alex didn’t appear to be armed. If anything, he looked like he hadn’t expected to find you. It was pure coincidence that he’d happened to wander down the same hallway you had. Alex was doing his best to look angry- furrowing his brow and glaring down at you- but the disgust on his face betrayed him. Locating you was nothing more than an inconvenience.

You hoped you could use that to your advantage.

“Alex, listen,” your voice was more sure than you expected it to be, “You can let me go. You can let me run off. You won’t have to get your hands dirty. You can just- you can pretend you never saw me.”

“Mm, yeah, I could,” Alex drew out every syllable he could, whining as a way of mocking you, “But this whole thing will end faster if I drag you back by that skanky little dress of yours. So-”

He pulled you to your feet, hands still tangled in the fabric of your dress. Adrenaline surged through you as he pulled you to the door. You fought him, scratching at his arm, drawing red angry lines into his pale flesh. He shrugged you off for the most part until you leaned in, seizing his neck with one hand and pulling it towards your mouth until you had the opportunity to bite.

Alex screamed as your teeth broke his skin. Blood filled your mouth, hot and metallic. You wanted to pull away, to stop biting and spit out the vile liquid, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. Not yet.

With your teeth still embedded in the flesh of Alex’s throat, you used your hold on his neck to drag him backwards, towards the stairs. He didn’t struggle or fight- he only screamed louder.

When he finally let you go, Alex lost his balance. You watched as he stumbled, staggering away from you as he tried to stop the bleeding. With his blood dripping from your mouth, you walked up to Alex and shoved him down the stairs.

You watched him fall, tumbling and bending in ways that human beings were not meant to tumble and bend. His screams stopped about halfway down the staircase. You shut your eyes. You just listened to the sounds of bones breaking in silence until that, too, came to a stop.

Then, the only sound was your breathing.

You felt around in the darkness for the banister of the stairs, and you clung to it as you collapsed to the floor. You sat there in the quiet, staring into nothing. For a moment, you were lost to the world as a numbing sort of panic filled your lungs.

“Holy shit.”

You knew that voice. With a gasp, you looked up. Of course, given your luck, the first thing you saw was Alex’s mangled body. His knee was twisted the wrong way, as was his left arm, and you winced at the sight of it, but your attention was quickly pulled away to the thing right next to Alex.

A pair of beat up white sneakers. Black jeans, a Metallica t-shirt, a leather jacket and violently wild hair.

“Eddie?”

The familiar boy at the bottom of the stairs didn’t say anything for a second. He just examined the body below him. At this angle, you couldn’t see his face. For a moment, you were terrified. You might’ve taken a man’s life- and that in itself was horrifying- but to add more fire to the hell you were in, you’d taken that man’s life in front of your best friend. What would he think of you now?

“Eddie?” you asked again, your voice trembling unpleasantly.

“Holy shit, sweetheart,” he finally looked up at you. His expression wasn’t disgusted or afraid- in fact, if you didn’t know better you would almost say he was impressed, “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

Tears filled your eyes as relief washed over you. You were safe now. Eddie was here, and he would take you away from this place, and these people, and you wouldn’t be brutally murdered because Eddie would never let that happen to you. And on top of that, he didn’t seem to mind that you had just maimed a man.

A smile crossed your face as you called down to him, “Will do.”

He returned the grin, but it immediately slipped from his face. His eyes were no longer focused on you. In the silence that followed, you could hear Roman’s family coming down the hall.

“Run, run!”

Eddie really didn’t have to tell you twice. You sped down the staircase just as Roman’s aunt stepped into the room, a silver hunting knife clutched in her hand. Adam limped in behind her, bruised and bloodied but still well enough to hunt you down. Clearly, you hadn’t kicked his ass enough.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, you leapt over Alex’s body and into Eddie’s arms. He caught you and pushed you behind him, getting you as far from the new threat as he could. As you moved towards the exit, your foot hit something metal. You knelt quickly, seizing the guns at your feet and handing one of them to Eddie.

The moment you did, Roman’s aunt noticed her child’s crumpled form on the floor. For the second time that night, you heard a mother scream at what you’d done to her son. You couldn’t find it in you to feel any sort of guilt.

“YOU WRETCHED JUDAS!” she screamed as she stormed down the stairs, “You’ll pay! You’ll fucking pay!!”

She ran at you, knife raised, but before she got the chance to enact her vengeance, a deafening shot rang out. The shotgun was still in your hands, unused and useless. Blood soaked the woman’s shirt as she collapsed to the floor. You and Eddie watched in silence, the gun still smoking in his hands as she pulled down the steps into a bloody heap at the bottom.

“No- no!” Adam’s face was painted with his rage. His eyebrows were furrowed, cheeks red, and the look in his eyes could only be described as murderous, “You fucking wretch! I’ll make sure the last thing you hear is her screaming as I tear her apart! Do you understand that you stupid bitch? I’ll break you open and I’ll make him watch!”

You resisted the urge to vomit as you and Eddie ran out of the room, his hand slipping into yours as you fled. The beating you’d given Adam bought you more time, but you didn’t let yourself indulge in the illusion of safety. Even as Adam’s threats faded into silence, the need for escape haunted you. Your fear followed you like the eyes of the paintings on the walls.

“Do you remember the way you came in?” you asked, panting and out of breath from your run.

“I did, but I think we lost it two hallways ago- who the fuck lives like this, man?”

“Rich people.”

Eddie barked out a laugh. With his hand still in yours, he pulled you to an abrupt stop. Before you could ask what was wrong, you were in his arms again.

“Please never date a crazy rich dude with a homicidal family again. I don’t think my heart can take it.”

You laughed into his chest, wrapping yourself around him and grabbing fistfulls of his shirt in your hands.

“I don’t think mine can either. I’m barely functioning as it is, I can’t even begin to think of doing this again,” you moved your hands up to gently cup his jaw, making his eyes meet yours, “Let’s make a deal- we are never doing this again. Ever. For any reason.”

“Agreed,” his smile was damn near blinding, betraying his mock-exasperated tone, “Because all of this is just fucking crazy.”

“I know! It’s crazy and it’s cliche, and if I ever fall for another psychopathic rich man, I want you to kill me.”

He laughed, but there was a look in his eye. You couldn’t really tell if it was guilt or some other kind of remorse. Your smile fell from your lips as you remembered, unsure of how you had ever forgotten- Eddie had just killed a woman. He had done it for your sake, to save your life, but you didn’t know how that action would weigh upon his shoulders.

“Thank you,” you whispered, “For coming to get me. And I’m so sorry for- for everything else.”

Eddie shrugged, as if shooting someone hadn’t bothered him in the slightest, “Anything for my best girl. Now come on, we need to find a way out of this fuckin place. Hopper’s on his way, he’ll be here soon- not soon enough, but soon.”

You nodded, but you stood still as he began to pull away. Before he could get far, you launched yourself at him again, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.

“I mean it,” your voice was muffled by his body, firm and solid beneath your lips, “Thank you. And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get us into this mess, I should’ve followed my gut, and-”

“Hey, hey,” two of his fingers slipped under your chin, tilting your head up, “Look at me, angel. Look at me.”

His eyes were soft, gentle, and indescribably comforting. You raised your hand, slipping it into his much larger one. You couldn’t help but watch as his muscles flexed, his fingers wrapping around your own.

When he spoke again, his voice was soft and quiet. For a fleeting moment, you found yourself captivated by his lips, “You don’t need to apologize. For any of this. Look, I’m a coward. I know I am. But if you’re in trouble, I need you to know that I will always come to get you. It doesn’t matter if it’s this homicidal family, another homicidal family, or some other shit.”

He paused. His hand was so cold in yours. You never wanted to let go of him.

“When it’s you, I can put the fear aside. When it’s you, I can be brave.”

The air stilled for a moment as you let his words wash over you. They warmed your skin like soft flame, and without another thought, you brought his still freezing hand to your lips. You pressed a gentle kiss across the back of his fingers, silently returning the affection he's given you. When you met his eyes again, his cheeks burned an impossible red, but he could not hide the smile that spilled across his face like wine across a fine linen.

“Now,” he cleared his throat, “We’re gonna get out of here, and Hopper’s gonna fix this shit, and I’m gonna take you home, and we’re gonna stop for soft tacos on the way, and we are never watching Ready or Not again. Sound good?”

“That sounds amazing,” you returned his grin, but before you could say anything else, you heard voices echoing through one of the endless hallways. It was time for more running, “Let’s go.”

“Good plan!” Eddie kept your hand in his as he bolted, “You’re so smart, did you know that? I always love your plans. “I think I love your plans more!” you panted, knowing that you, at the very least, were not talking about plans.

You weren’t sure how Eddie felt about you, but as the two of you threw open doors in the hopes of an exit manifesting itself, you became sure of your own feelings. Truly and completely, you were in love with Eddie Munson.

Maybe you should’ve been worried about that. Maybe you should’ve felt some heavy sense of dread that he wouldn’t return the feeling. Maybe, under normal circumstances, you would’ve felt that way. However, given the fact that this self-professed coward had broken into this place for you, shot a woman for you, and saved your life, you were pretty confident that he felt something for you.

“This way! They went this way!”

But you would never know for sure if Roman’s family managed to find you before you could ask.

You threw open every door you found as you ran, again looking for an escape while creating a million distractions. Eddie followed your lead, catching on quickly as if he was built for this exact insane situation.

Behind each door was the same kind of shit- bedrooms, closets, storage spaces holding extravagant nothings (you were pretty sure you saw the shape of a grand piano.) You could feel your hunters closing in. The hallways and corridors of the mansion seemed to close in around you and Eddie. Then, there came the final door.

It was painted red, though the colour had faded and chipped away through the years. Without a second thought, you seized the brass door knob and turned it. The door opened to reveal an empty black space. You couldn’t see the end of the room.

A frigid draft blew in through the new space raising goosebumps on your skin. The smell of rotting flesh overtook you. You shivered, trying not to retch as you looked around, desperate for another escape. Other than the red door, you had found yourself at a dead end.

“(Y/N), come on, let’s hide and find another way out.”

“There’s no time,” there really wasn’t. You could hear Adam’s enraged screaming getting louder and louder with every passing second. You wouldn’t let yourself be caught.

You grabbed Eddie’s hand and pulled him into the dark. As you ran further into the room, the light from the hallway shrunk down until it was nothing but a pinprick. The smell of mold and decay got stronger as you ventured further inside. Flies buzzed around just out of swatting distance. Your body trembled, struggling to get warm as the room got colder and colder. Eddie’s hand was an anchor in a sea of nothingness. You held him tighter, desperate to know that he was there.

Towards the back of the room, another light came into view, blood red like a warning. You raced towards it, Eddie’s hand in yours. The dim crimson light illuminated a set of poorly painted metal stairs. You didn’t even stop to wonder what the hell they were doing in a mansion like this. You didn’t stop to wonder where they led. The breeze on your face- though it smelled putrid as anything- felt like freedom. You moved down the stairs faster than was safe. Eddie followed behind you hesitantly, though he didn’t slow you down.

You seemed to descend for an eternity, moving down until the light faded and you were in the dark again. When you finally met solid ground again, you surged forward, running in an animalistic panic through what you had to assume was a basement. You kept telling yourself that you would be safe, that you were almost out the door.

Then, the floor fell out from beneath you. The shotgun slipped from your hands, landing somewhere deep below with a dull thud. A scream tore itself from your lips, echoing back up the stairwell and giving away your location instantly.

Eddie pulled you back to solid ground and turned you, keeping your face tucked into this chest. His arms wrapped around you, keeping you secure in his embrace. He was muttering something, but you couldn’t hear him over the rush of blood in your ears. Your fingers gripped his shirt so tightly that it made your knuckles sore. Your ribs ached as your breath came to you in harsh pants.

You turned to look at where you had fallen.

All too late, Eddie’s voice finally became clear, “Don’t look at it, (Y/N). Don’t look, you don’t need to look.”

You had nearly fallen into a pit. It was deep. Wide. And the bottom was absolutely lined with corpses.

You could see bones sticking up through tattered old finery. Flesh still clung to fingers, decorated with once gleaming rings. Eyeless sockets stared up at you through matted, fetid, rotting clumps of hair and scalp.

You were looking down at centuries of sacrifices, first and second and third wives of the LeBuer family, victims of a ritual that you could not hope to understand.

If it weren’t for Eddie’s hold on you, you would have collapsed.

“I see you’ve found your future tomb.”

You whirled around. As your eyes adjusted to the low light, you could see Adam standing on the stairs. Alex limped down behind him, his mouth drawn up in a pained grimace. Eddie pushed you behind him, trying to protect you from this new, hellish encounter.

“You won’t touch her,” he growled, “Not while I’m here.”

“Oh, shut up, guttersnipe. This isn’t about you. This could never be about you. All we want is the girl,” Alex hissed, though you couldn’t tell which was stronger in his voice- hatred or agony.

“Look, trailer trash, we’ll even make you a deal for her,” as Adam spoke, you wrapped your hands around Eddie’s wrists, trying to provide some form of comfort. You weren’t sure if it worked, or if it just made you look like a damsel in distress, but at least you tried.

“We’ll set you up for a few years, and in exchange,” Adam continued, “You give us the girl. And you keep quiet about this, of course. The LeBuer name has a reputation. If any of this were to get out-”

“Any of what? The demon sacrifice? The murder of innocents for your own selfish needs?”

“And how would you know about any of that you fucking heathen?”

Eddie shrugged, “Just trust me on this one, man. I know.”

“Look at him, Adam,” Alex wheezed, “He would know demons. He fucking looks like one.”

Adam scoffed, shaking his head at Alex’s attempt at a joke… or was it an insult? You were too tired and terrified to give a shit.

“Okay boys, fun’s over, I’m afraid I’m not up for exchange this fine evening. Now if you’ll excuse us, I think it’s time to leave. Thank your parents for hosting, Adam, it’s been wonderful-”

The deafening sound of a gunshot cut you off.

You screamed, reaching up at your ears to protect them from the noise. Eddie had the same idea, and Alex and Adam ducked right to the ground, lying on their bellies as you all looked up to see who had shot.

Roman stood on the stairs, his back just bathed in the faintest crimson light. In his hands he held another fucking gun. Honestly, by that point you were so fucking tired you almost hoped he’d just shoot you with it.

Clearly, God, Roman, and also Eddie, had other plans.

Eddie tucked you behind him, making it absolutely fucking clear to everyone in the room that if they wanted to hurt you, they would have to go through him first- and oh, how your heart sunk as you realized you were something Eddie wanted to protect. In that moment, you knew you were precious to him. Maybe you were something he’d searched all of time and space for and finally found. You wanted to fucking scream again, but your throat was really starting to hurt.

Roman just sighed. As he made his way down the stairs, his pace was leisurely and completely self assured. He didn’t even aim the gun at you or Eddie- he barely even spared you a glance.

“My good gentleman, I assure you, this isn’t how we wanted this night to go.”

“Don’t even start with that bullshit, man. Don’t fucking gentleman me. Maybe you didn’t want to spend the night in your corpse dungeon, but I’m perfectly happy to be here,” Eddie’s voice had a harsh edge to it, one that made you want to cling onto him and never let go. If you were too tired to fight this battle- which at this point in the night, you had every right to be- you knew he would handle this thing for you. For the both of you.

“Are you? You’re happy to defend an empty vessel? Happy to stand on the edge of a pit filled with the lowest form of decay? Well, I guess it’s an upgrade from whatever hovel you crawled out of.”

Nevermind. Fuck lying dormant while Eddie protected you. You were going to protect him, too.

“Oh, would you fuck off, Roman,” you barked, woken up from your angst-filled exhaustion, “How long have you been bottling up the classist insults? Just through our relationship? Or did you hide even before that? Come on, then. If you’re hurling insults at people who don’t spend stupid amounts on whatever pathetic bullshit you call “luxury,” you should probably spare one for me. We were partners, after all.”

Eddie’s eyes were filled with pride and fear in equal measure- he looked like he wanted to kiss you and shove you back behind him for your own safety. Roman, on the other hand, had the audacity to look hurt.

“Were?”

It was your turn to scoff, “You were planning to sacrifice me to the devil for your own sake- and for the sake of your secret wife. You expect me to serve you, to die so you can have a kid. You used me, Roman, and I’m sick of your shit. We’re fucking done.”

He stood still on for a moment, his eyes darting between you and Eddie from his place on the stairs.

“I was right,” he finally mumbled, “It’s you and him.”

In the silence that followed, Eddie’s hand found its way back into yours. Your thumb traced over his knuckles, over every ridge and vein his hand had to offer. He squeezed his fingers around yours in return, pulling you close to him with no intention of letting go.

“Very well, then,” Roman pointed the gun at Eddie’s chest, “You’ll both die screaming.”

You knocked Eddie to the ground as Roman fired a shot. The overwhelming sound of gunfire echoed off the walls, making everyone in the room wince and cover their ears. It gave you an opening.

With Eddie’s hand in yours, you bolted towards the stairs. Alex recovered from the sound first. He jumped towards you. Eddie let go of you for a moment, just so he could fight off your assailant. As his punches landed, Alex staggered back. He made weak attempts to return Eddie’s blows, but he was no match for the metalhead. For the second time that night, Alex went down like a bitch. He rolled across the floor, coughing and swearing until he fell off the edge of the floor.

The third time Alex went down that night, he went all the way down to the corpse pit.

You froze, listening to Alex’s scream as he plunged out of sight. A dull thud echoed through the room as he landed. Bones crunched beneath him, rotten flesh squelching as Alex slipped through old blood and viscera. You could barely hear him screaming over the buzz of disrupted flies. The smell of rancid meat rose into the air. Bile rose in your throat as the screaming turned to desperate retching. Eddie stood still, gazing into the pit with an expression you couldn’t name.

Before you could reach out to him, an arm wrapped around your throat. You let out a yelp as someone pulled you into the firm plane of their chest. Your heart fell through your chest as you clawed and scratched at your attacker. You couldn’t afford to show them mercy. You bit and tore at them, drawing blood and shrieking like a feral animal as their other arm curled around your waist. Through your adrenaline fueled haze, you were absolutely sure that it was Roman’s voice calling you a bitch.

Eddie raced to help you, moving faster than you thought a person could go. Adam interfered, advancing on Eddie viciously. Unlike Alex, Adam was adept at fighting and capable of heinous violence. The two men exchanged blows with equal force and brutality, landing hits until Eddie’s nose was bloodied and the side of Adam’s face was painted purple.

In the interim, you didn’t stop fighting. As Eddie and Alex beat the shit out of each other, Roman tried to pull you towards the stairs. In retaliation, you took a sizable chunk out of his arm with your teeth. You gagged as you spat out his flesh- the sensation of hot, metallic blood spilling past your lips was almost too much to bear. Roman growled, and you could feel his hand tangle itself in the roots of your hair, pulling you away from his new wound.

“I’ll credit you with this, my darling,” Roman grunted, pulling you backwards as you spat out his blood, “You’ve put up a good fight. But you have to know, this can only end one way.”

Beside the body pit, Adam had finally managed to pin Eddie to the ground. You watched as the bastard gripped Eddie’s jaw and turned his head to face you. Eddie looked absolutely devastated. Panic swirled in his warm brown eyes as he kept trying to free himself. No matter how hard he tried, he was still forced to look at you as Roman wrapped a hand around your throat and started to squeeze.

As your vision began to swim, Adam leaned down, pressing his lips to Eddie’s ear. You clawed at Roman’s arm like an animal. Your nails tore at his already open wound, but he held you fast, placing another hand just below your navel to keep you still.

“I get what you see in her, pretty boy,” you could hear Adam’s words, muffled slightly by the sound of your blood rushing in your ears, “She’s hot when she struggles.”

Beneath his assailant, Eddie growled, digging his nails into any flesh he could reach. Adam barely winced.

“It’s a shame you won’t leave this room- I mean, the things we’re gonna do to her once we get upstairs. It would be a wet dream for a freak like you.”

Tears spilled from your eyes as the threat set in. Fear burrowed itself inside of you, eating away at your flesh as flies fed on the bodies below. Across the room, Eddie grit his teeth, his eyes flashing with rage. You didn’t see him land his next hit. You didn’t see him claw at Adam’s face. You didn’t see anything- it was all too fast. All you knew was that one moment, Adam was smirking down at Eddie, and the next his face was covered in blood. Adam shrieked, his hands hovering over his face as crimson gushed from four deep, perfect wounds embedded in his flesh.

In his panic, Adam made a terrible mistake. He let Eddie go. Without a second of hesitation, Eddie tackled his assailant. He wrapped his pale, slender hand around Adam’s throat and squeezed. You watched Eddie’s knuckles turn white, his veins standing out against his skin. Beneath him, Adam gasped for air, thrashing desperately in an attempt to escape. You could hear him choking on his own blood as it poured down his face.

You heard something snap. A smile snuck its way onto your face.

Adam was still gasping, though the sound was almost nothing now. Static filled your ears. Roman screamed, a sound of deep rage, right in your ears. Eddie looked up at you, his eyes wide. A thick strand of scarlet something dripped from between Eddie’s lips.

And then he was gone.

You watched as Eddie fell back into the pit, dragging Adam with him. Someone was screaming- you. You were screaming. You couldn’t feel the strain in your throat. You could barely hear the sound. You hadn’t heard the gun go off, even though Roman had shot it inches away from your skull. You couldn’t feel Roman pulling you back. You couldn’t feel the stairs hitting the backs of your legs as he dragged you back up into the house.

All you could see was the dark void that Eddie had fallen into. All you knew was that dark void. There was nothing else. Tears ran down your cheeks. Eddie was gone. Broken sobs left your body as you collapsed into Roman’s arms- into the arms of the man that had destroyed your world in seconds. You were nothing but a wounded animal, now. Hunted, maimed, and brought forth for slaughter. You took some bitter joy in that thought. You knew you would see Eddie soon enough.

The hallways of the LeBuer mansion blurred into nothing. The portraits on the walls had the decency to look bereaved, but every little Jesus on every little cross you passed seemed to laugh at you. All the fight had been drained from you like blood from a cadaver. You said nothing as Roman pulled you back into the dining room. You didn’t flinch at his family’s carnivorous smiles. You didn’t make a sound when Roman let you drop to the floor.

Bruises began to form on your arms and shoulders but you didn’t feel the pain. Someone took your phone, not that it mattered. You let the family place you on their table. You let Roman tie you down. You let Cathrine tear open your dress. Even the chill of the room on your exposed flesh didn’t bother you. You just laid there, still as death, while Benedict approached with a large, intricate blade. He handed it off to his son.

“Roman, dearest, did you drug her?” Cecilia asked, “She hasn’t moved an inch. Usually they squirm so much…”

“Don’t worry, mother. As far as it concerns us, she’s already dead.”

“That’ll make the next few steps a lot easier. Perhaps she’ll bleed less,” Cathrine put a hand to your cheek, gently brushing the smooth pads of her fingers over your flesh. Her face was the only thing you could see, the only thing you had to focus on as the knife finally dug deep into your skin.

You refused to scream. You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Your tears, however, spilled from your eyes without your consent. Cathrine’s smile grew wider as her family tortured you, as you were penetrated again and again with the blade. You couldn’t see what they were doing. You didn’t know when they would finally end your suffering. Your world was made up of her cruel eyes and nothing else.

Your blood burned as it dripped over your sides, pooling beneath you until you could feel it between the table and the flesh of your back. You could hear drops of it falling to the marble floor. The sound was enough to drive you crazy- that is, if the pain didn’t do it first.

The blade ripped through your skin, diving deep into you with such brutality that your body shook from the force. You could feel yourself choking on blood. The world was turning gray, tunneling into a mess of static. The grunts of effort from Roman’s family were muted by the panicked sound of your own breathing. You were going to die here. You were going to die here, and Cathrine would be the last thing you would see. You didn’t try to fight it.

In a weird way, it was almost like sex- the blade thrusting in and out of your body, making you bleed, making you hurt. It was a violent intrusion. A man imposing his will on you to serve his own desires.

You didn’t have it in you to fight, but you did want to throw up really badly.

When she finally pulled back, you had just enough strength to look up and see what they’d done to you. You’d been stabbed. Just stabbed, a thousand times without a hint of grace or tact. You could see yourself bleeding out, blood pulsing to the surface with every weak beat of your heart. The sight made you sick. There was something viscerally wrong about your mutilated body lying before you.

You let out a soft cry as Roman put his hand low on your abdomen. It was a pitiful sound, the only thing you could make as your heart struggled to keep you alive.

“Thank you. For your sacrifice,” he pressed down, a final act of cruelty.

Cathrine wrapped her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “It’s what any woman would do.”

“My family,” Benedict began. Though his voice sounded miles away, you could still hear the jovial tone in his words, “Let us begin the prayer.”

You watched as Roman took Cathrine’s hand in his- specifically, his hand that wasn’t stained in your blood. She grabbed the golden crucifix around her throat and held it with a look of pride and hope.

“Our father,” you couldn’t tell who was speaking anymore. You just knew that they sounded happy.

“Forgive us this trespass and send us a servant of the one below.”

The lights flickered. You almost wanted to laugh. This was some cheesy fuckin shit. The air took on a sudden chill, not that you could feel it. Your blood provided you with a scorching heat as it spilled from your veins.

“A servant of your fallen son, to bless this fallen daughter.”

The lights flickered again. You could hear something loud above the voices. Something crashing, loud like thunder but not as natural.

“To bestow upon our family the ultimate gift- a child-” their voices cut out, “And your name.”

You were pretty sure one of the ten commandments was not to murder anyone- but you knew you weren’t a person to them. Thou shalt not kill didn’t apply to slaughtered lambs. Why would it apply to you?

“Accept this most humble offering, this lamb to slaughter, this child of Abraham.”

You heard a door open.

“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Or whatever. Amen.”

That voice- that voice was new. Roman’s family stopped their prayer. You could hear someone gasp. They sounded terrified. You wondered, briefly, what they would have to fear.

“You- you can’t be here. You’re dead.”

“Huh. Thanks for filling me in, I wouldn’t have noticed otherwise.”

“I shot you-”

“I’m aware.”

“Roman, who is this boy?” Was that Cecilia or Cathrine? For the life of you- something that was quickly coming to an end- you could not fucking tell.

“You asked for a demon,” you heard a pause. Footsteps. Something fell to the floor with a crash, “You got one.”

“No- you’re not, you can’t be-”

“Roman, darling-” was it concerning that you still couldn’t tell if that was your ex’s wife or his mom? It didn’t matter. The next thing you heard was Roman, enraged. You were sure of that. You heard it enough times.

“ENOUGH- I’m going to end this! I’m going to end-”

A shot rang out. There was another pause. Something small and metal clattered to the floor. Silence followed.

The lights went out.

Bathed in darkness, the voice of the new guest suddenly became clear, and when he spoke a fresh round of tears fell from your eyes. You were dead now. You were sure of it. The afterlife was fucking weird, but you were certain.

“Hey there, angel. You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you. Just tell me what to do.”

You drew in a shaky breath, your chest rattling, aching with the effort. The cold air hurt your lungs. You felt like you were burning from the inside out.

“Help me, Eddie.”

In an instant, his presence was gone. The room was still dark. When Eddie spoke again, his voice came from the doorway again.

“You’re going to get away from her now,” his voice was low, his words a warning, “This is your only warning.”

Footsteps echoed through the room. Someone was running. There was a grunt, a sound like someone exerting effort, throwing a punch.

There followed an awful, fleshy, tearing sound. Roman’s screams of agony met your ears, just as the snap of breaking bones jolted you back to some level of reality. There was another shout, a scream of paternal rage. More footsteps- and again, the sound of flesh being torn from bone. You couldn’t find it within yourself to feel bad about that. In fact, you almost laughed.

The next cry that rang out was definitely Cecilia’s. The noise she made was cut short, overtaken by cracking sounds of a shattering rib cage. Someone choked on their own blood, gagging and sputtering their way to a brutal death. You couldn’t really feel bad about that, either.

Roman was still screaming. You could hear Cathrine’s voice, demanding Roman’s freedom. It didn’t help much. The next thing you heard was Roman’s pained gasps for air.

Eddie’s voice rang out again, a source of comfort amid all the auditory gore.

“Let me get this straight. You two shit stains wanted a child so badly that you were willing to torture an innocent woman to get one? You were willing to brutalize her for your own sake?”

“It’s tradition! Roman’s family is cursed- they must have a sacrifice in the name of God! A holy baptism of blood! A new mass! The killing of one womb so that they may conceive in another-”

“God doesn’t give a shit about your family’s tradition of torture porn,” Eddie’s voice was strange, caught between a growl, a laugh, and a sob, “I’m half convinced he doesn't give a shit about anything. He doesn’t see you, Cathrine. He doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t bless you, he doesn’t bless this fucked up family, and he doesn’t bless your husband.”

You heard a weak wheeze before Roman spoke, “She- she gave her consent. I had her, she whored herself out to me. That means-”

“THAT DOESN’T MEAN SHIT,” Eddie had been enraged the entire time he’d been speaking, but this was something new. From your place on the dining table/alter, you could see a red light flickering off the ceiling.

“Consent to sex is not consent to ritual sacrifice, you stupid fuck.”

You were pretty sure the black mass that flew across your vision was Roman. You weren’t sure how Eddie managed that one, but you sure as shit weren’t complaining. A deafening crash came from one of the cabinets. Glass shattered on impact. You laughed- the sound was wet and broken, and the laugh itself was painful, but the sound still escaped. You hoped that whatever had happened to Roman had fucking hurt.

“Roman!” Cathrine’s scream all but confirmed your theory. You heard her footsteps as she tried to get to her husband, but something stopped her.

“And you. Well, you’re just a fucking disappointment. Tell me, kid, what makes you think you’re any different? What makes you think you’ll be spared from him? From his wrath? From his family? There’s a pit in the basement full of bodies, full of people this family has sacrificed for their own gain. What makes you think you won’t join them?”

“He- he loves me. Roman loves me.”

“He told (Y/N) the same thing. Look what he did to her. Look what you did to her.”

“She- she would have done the same thing! She would have killed me!”

“No. Not like this. I, on the other hand-”

Eddie didn’t finish that sentence. You just heard the squelch of skin splitting, the sound of something wet falling to the floor, and a half scream from the woman who watched as the light in your eyes faded to nothing. Like that, she was gone. You couldn’t help the smile that slipped across your face. You shut your eyes.

“(Y/N)- (Y/N), come on, keep your eyes open.”

You did. Eddie was above you, haloed in red light- and something was different. His eyes were dark, pupils blown. It almost looked like the dark overtook the whites of his eyes. His skin was pale, ashen, far more so than it normally was. You reached towards him and when he moved to take your hands you noticed them. Massive leathery wings stretched out behind your boy. You had to be dead already. Or at least close to it.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his hand squeezing yours, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never meant for any of this to happen. I never wanted you to get hurt, I never wanted you to see me like this-”

“You…” your voice was weak. Your blood stained your lips and teeth, “You’re pretty.”

He let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh. It broke your heart, a little bit. You wanted to pull him close to you and never let him go, but it hurt to move. You just wanted to close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

“No, no, no, come on. Stay with me, angel, stay awake.”

You could only hum in response.

“I- I’m going to have to touch you. Is that okay?”

You wanted to tell him that he could touch you however he wanted to. He could do whatever he wanted, he could finish what the LeBuers had started and cut you to bits and you would let him. Whatever was left of you was his. You loved him, and you wanted him to know that. All you could do was lie there and nod.

Apologies spilled from his lips as he let go of your hand and placed his own over your wounds. His touch was feather light. It should have hurt. By all logic, it should have hurt, but you didn’t feel any pain. You could feel something sharp against your flesh, but whatever it was, it didn’t cut into you. It just scratched sweetly across your skin as his fingers traced over your stomach and your ribs.

Eddie brushed over you slowly, gently, in a way that filled you with want. You could feel his hands start to tremble as they moved lower and lower. Warmth seeped into your body wherever he touched you. Slowly, the agony you felt- the sharp sting of your torn flesh, the bruised ribs, all of it- it just faded away.

You opened your eyes and slipped your hand into Eddie’s. Your fingers tangled with his over your stomach. Where you expected to feel blood, you only felt your own skin- and something sharp, attached to Eddie’s hands. Claws. Neat.

Your strength was coming back slowly, inch by inch, but you could feel it- you could feel life return to every vein and nerve you had.

“Whatever you’re doing,” you whispered, “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

A smile broke out across his face, “I won’t. I promise, I promise I won’t.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead and giving you a good view of those things behind him- wings. Actual fucking wings. They were beautiful, terrifying, and they were half wrapped around you, keeping you close to Eddie. You loved them, instantly, but good lord were you confused.

“Am I dead?” your voice was still quiet, still fragile despite your growing strength.

“No, sweetheart. I couldn’t let that happen to you. I couldn’t let them take you from me.”

“So this…” your eyes searched his face, “All of this is real. I’m not dead or dreaming?”

“You’re not. You’re awake, and alive, and in a few minutes we’re getting the fuck out of here.”

“Oh,” you nodded, “That’s nice. Are you going to fly me out of here?”

He paused, seeming surprised, as if he had forgotten about the massive wings behind him. A deep blush overtook his face, painting him red from his jaw to his ears.

“Yeah, about that,” he winced, “I know this is a terrible time to tell you, and I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but I’m not really a person. Or at least, I’m not anymore. I’m so sorry that-” You cut him off before he could say anything else.

“They’re perfect. You’re perfect. It’s all very metal.”

He laughed at your words, ignoring the tears that spilled over his cheeks. Without a word, you reached for him, trying to maneuver yourself into a sitting position as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He leaned down, meeting you halfway, and burying his face in the bare skin of your shoulder. His messy curls stuck to your skin. His strong arms curved around your back, his fingers digging into you as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“Just hold me for a second, please,” you whispered, running your fingers up and into his hair, “Don’t let me go.”

“Never,” he gasped, his voice trembling terribly, “I almost lost you. You’re not leaving my sight ever again.”

“Good,” your voice broke, your eyes burning as tears of your own began to fall, “Don’t let me go. Don’t ever let me go.”

“I won’t. I promise. I’ve got you.”

Eddie pulled away first. You made a small sound of protest, but he wasn’t gone long. He didn’t even take his hands off of you. He just took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

When you looked down at your body, at his clothes covering you, you couldn’t help but notice that you had been healed of every single stab wound and every single bruise. There wasn’t even a scar left behind.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, sweetheart.”

“I mean it, Eds. I would have died if you hadn’t come to get me, I-” you paused, watching as Eddie anxiously bit his lip. Heat pooled in your stomach like the births and deaths of a thousand stars. You couldn’t tear your eyes away. You really wanted to kiss him.

“I really want to kiss you,” you moved closer, your lips barely an inch away from his.

His eyes went wide. His grip on you tightened. You could feel his breath catch, feel the way he tensed up in anticipation. Everything about him betrayed how badly he wanted you.

“Shit, I-” he took a shuddering breath, his fingers kneading a pattern into your skin, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

“Good,” you leaned in, but he stopped you, placing a hand on your shoulder to put some space between you. You paused, tilting your head as his fingers ran down to your hip.

“Wait,” his voice was so quiet, “Just wait. I don’t want to- I don’t want to take advantage, y’know? You just went through something terrifying, and I-”

“You don’t want to hurt me,” you reached up to cradle Eddie’s jaw in your hands, letting your thumbs stroke across his skin, “You’re still protecting me. You’ve been doing that all night, y’know. You should let yourself take a break.”

Eddie tried not to grin and failed. His grip tightened on you as you pulled him closer, your chest pressing against his as you sat up properly.

“Hey, I have a demon question for ya,” you pulled one hand away from his face, tracing lines up and down his arm. You followed the thick ridges of his veins, a deep blue against his pale skin. You hid your grin as he inhaled sharply. His fingers would definitely leave bruises on your hip, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind.

“Demons usually offer their aid in exchange for something, right?”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Just answer the question, Munson,” you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, and you watched him melt in front of you.

“Yes, we usually take souls and shit, but I couldn’t ask you for that. I couldn’t, I-”

“Could you take something else?”

He let out a half gasp, “Wh- what?”

“Could you. Take. Something else?” you met his gaze dead on, “A firstborn, maybe?”

“Oh, sweet girl, you are trying to kill me.”

You giggled- actually fucking giggled- and leaned into his chest. Maybe you were trying to kill him, just a little bit. Maybe you wanted something else.

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, something across the room broke. Beneath the collapsed gun cabinet, something was moving.

“Shit,” Eddie whispered, “Get behind me.”

Without another word, he let you go and moved to stand in front of you. His wings spread wide, blocking you from sight as someone began to rise from the rubble.

“I’ll kill you,” Roman’s voice was weak, “I’LL KILL BOTH OF YOU!”

“Don’t you people ever die?” Eddie asked, exasperated as his body tensed, preparing for a fight.

You stepped to the side ever so slightly, getting a glimpse of Roman that you very much could have lived without. There he was, your ex boyfriend, his face painted red with his own blood. His shirt was torn revealing bruised and broken skin beneath.

He looked like a monster. And he looked like he wanted to kill Eddie.

For whatever reason, your gaze turned to the side. You winced as your eyes fell upon Cecilia’s body, lying across the room in a pool of crimson. Eddie had destroyed her. He’d destroyed all of them. It was a gorey sight, but you had a hard time finding sympathy for a woman who watched as you were held down and tortured. If Roman wasn’t being a little shit, you might have grinned.

Beside her, in a puddle of viscera that you could only assume was once Benedict , was the elaborately decorated knife that almost brought about your end.

“You haven’t even seen the worst that I could do to her,” Roman growled, “You love her, don’t you, demon? Then it’ll hurt you even more when I flay her alive.”

“You won’t live long enough to get the chance.”

“Won’t I? I’ve lived this long! You killed everyone else, but I’m still here! I-I have been chosen! By you- by God!”

You slipped under the table, dashing across the room to grab the knife.

“Man, I genuinely thought you were dead until right now. Your survival was a mistake.”

“There are no mistakes, demon. I was meant to be here. I was meant to survive! To carry on the LeBuer line! And I think I’ll use that pet of yours to do it.”

Eddie made a deep, inhuman sound at the back of his throat. From your space across the room, you watched as he lunged at Roman, teeth and claws bared. He was ready to attack, and so enraged that he didn’t see the grin that spread across the LeBuer boy’s face.

When Eddie flew across the room, Roman dove out of the way, bending down and seizing a wayward piece of glass. He leapt at Eddie, shoving him into the wall and bringing his forged weapon to his chest. Roman’s hand bled where it clenched around the sharp object, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I’d kill you now, demon, but it would be much more fun to make you watch,” he pressed the glass into Eddie’s shirt. Honestly, it didn’t do much. Eddie pulled back, his neck tensed. He looked absolutely murderous. Realizing his mistake, Roman dropped the blade and wrapped his undamaged hand around Eddie’s throat. It took everything you had to keep from screaming- and you couldn’t scream- for the sake of stealth.

The two men were so focused on each other that they didn’t notice you coming. They didn’t notice you leveling the knife at Roman’s back.

“Roman,” you called his attention to you. Roman turned, and from the look in his eyes alone, you knew that given half the chance, he would make good on every threat he’d made.

You took a deep breath and drove the knife straight through Roman’s chest. You didn’t stop until you had run him through. Roman let out an agonized screech as he stared down at the blade protruding through his body. You winced as he collapsed, his weight pulling the blade from your hands. As he spit blood at your feet, you whispered, “We’re. Fucking. Done.”

A moment passed, silent and still. Your hands shook slightly. Taking another deep breath, you looked up at Eddie. His big dark eyes were already on you. Without another thought, you leapt over Roman’s body, running into Eddie’s arms. You fell into him, and he caught you like he was made to do just that.

He held you close, his grip strong and reassuring. You buried your face in his chest for a moment, your hands gripping onto him hard enough to bruise. You could feel his wings wrap around you again, locking you in a soft and safe dimension of your own. Eddie whispered something to you, several somethings, but you couldn’t quite hear him. You could feel the vibration of his voice in his chest, but you couldn’t register anything. It was all just static.

You looked up at him, eyes wide. His soft lips were moving, speaking, and the motion was hypnotic.

“Can I kiss you now?”

He paused, lips parted slightly and eyes wide. You spread your fingers across his chest, brushing your thumb across his collar bone.

“I saved you. You saved me,” you leaned closer, “We’re even now, right? So we can kiss each other without feeling bad about it?”

He stared at your lips. His eyebrows furrowed together slightly, creating the picture of a conflicted man. You could feel his heart racing in his chest, just beneath your fingertips.

“Eddie?”

“Fuck it.”

Eddie’s lips were on yours before you could make another sound. His hands were on your face in an instant, cradling your jaw with such a sweet intensity that you almost melted into him, then and there. Your hands came up to grip his arms, and you followed them up the shape of his body until your fingers wrapped around his shoulders. Without another thought, you pulled him closer.

He let out the sweetest sounds as you parted his lips with your tongue. You wrapped one of your legs around his, desperate to feel his touch everywhere you could. He lowered a hand to your waist, nearly clawing your side in his desperation to hold you. Need turned the both of you into animals just a few shades from feral.

“We’re even,” he spoke against your lips, breathless and panting, “We are so, so even, angel. Fuck-”

“Haha, I get it now. You’re a demon, and I’m-” you cut yourself off, whining into Eddie’s mouth as he bit down on your lip just hard enough to make your flesh sting.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered as pressed kisses to your jaw, “You’re my angel. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Eds, I’m- I’m perfect… When's Hopper gonna get here?”

He paused, tilting his head, “Not for a while… why?”

“Because I have plans for us, pretty boy.”

A wicked grin crossed Eddie’s lips as he dove back into you.

Eddie may have seen you as angelic, but the thoughts running through your head were anything but holy. Your blood seemed to burn wherever he touched you. Sparks flew with every touch he left on your skin. You were seconds away from catching fire, from burning brighter than any star the sky had to offer. You let out a soft moan as Eddie’s lips trailed down your throat.

“I need you,” you panted, “I need you, Eddie, please.”

“Whatever you want, sweet girl, whatever you-”

You cut him off by leaning forward and wrapping your lips and teeth around his shoulder. You bit down, marking him up without drawing blood. The moan that slipped from him was far too pretty for you to handle. Your hips moved against his thigh, grinding against him desperately. You were very much aware that you were acting like a pathetic slut, but you didn’t really care. You needed him- and judging by the hard length pressed against you, he needed you just as much.

You wrapped your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him blindly towards the altar/table in the center of the room. He followed eagerly. You both stumbled, nearly falling to the ground since you both refused to break the kiss.

Your back hit the altar with a harsh thud. You let out a soft whine, jumping up to sit on the flat surface just as Eddie pulled away.

“Are you okay? That sounded like it hurt-”

“I’m fine,” you reached behind you and unhooked your bra, exposing your breasts to the cold air of the sacrifice room, “Can you do me a favor and tear off what’s left of my dress?”

Eddie didn’t move. He didn’t say anything, either. He kind of just froze for a second. When you looked up to meet his gaze, his eyes were completely glued to your chest. A sweet blush graced his cheeks, and you couldn’t help but grin.

The fact that he wanted you, that he couldn’t look away from you set off another set of sparks deep inside your body. Absolute want pooled at your core as galaxies formed in his eyes. You were his universe. You could see it.

“You okay there, Munson?”

“You’re so fucking pretty.”

You let out a laugh before reaching out and pulling him close. Once you had him between your thighs, you wrapped your legs around his hips.

“Thank you, Eds. Now are you gonna help me with my dress, or am I going to have to take it off myself?”

You tilted your head to the side, unable to wipe the smile from your face as Eddie continued to devour you with his eyes. His hands came up to your sides, trembling slightly as he took you into his hands. Something dark and dominant flashed in his eyes. His grip tightened.

“You’re gonna have to wait a second,” his voice was low, almost inhuman, and fucking delicious to your ears. You laughed again as he buried his face in your chest, kissing and biting your skin, leaving purple marks behind. Your laughter quickly gave way to breathy moans and desperate pleas as Eddie’s lips moved across your exposed flesh. Your hands found their way into his hair, tangling at the roots and giving them a slight tug. He growled against you, biting down hard and marking you with the shape of his teeth.

“God, I want you to do terrible things to me.”

“You’re-” he cut himself off with a kiss, “Adorable.”

“I’m serious! I almost died today- we both did. I’ve come face to face with my own mortality, and I realized that life is too short. If I don’t ask you to rail me now, who knows if I’ll get another chance? In other words, please fuck my brains out before we get hit by a meteor or something.”

He laughed. You could feel the vibrations in every place his skin met yours. You kind of wanted to scream.

“We’re not gonna get hit by a meteor.”

“You don’t know that!” you sat up, pulling his face from your chest and holding his jaw in one hand, “We could get meteored any second, so I need you to know that I love you.”

His soft brown eyes bore into your soul for a moment, and honestly, you wouldn’t have cared that much if a meteor did smite you at that particular moment. You had Eddie. You had everything you needed.

“I love you, too,” he pushed you back and finally, finally set his claws on your dress. He tore it off slowly, making you ache with anticipation. You could feel the sharp, pleasant scratch of his nails against your skin again, slipping beneath the waist of your underwear. You really wouldn’t complain if he just ripped you open, but you knew he wouldn’t. Not unless you asked nicely.

“By the way,” he leaned up to kiss you, “I wouldn’t let you get hit by a meteor.”

“Is that something you could prevent?” you tried to come off as confident, but your voice snapped into a million pieces as he pulled your panties down your thighs.

“I’d do my best,” he shrugged, tossing your underwear to the side for the moment.

“That’s comforting.”

“You’re the one that came up with the meteor thing,” he gripped your thighs, claws just biting at your flesh as his fingers flexed, “You know I’ll always protect you.”

He would. He had. He’d proved that much to you. He leaned in slowly, kissing your lips again before moving down to your throat, tracing the pattern of purple bruises and bite marks that he’d already left. You squirmed in his hold, hips thrashing slightly. You could feel yourself dripping. Arousal gathered between your thighs as he eased his way down your body.

Eddie’s arms hooked themselves around your thighs, hands spreading on your hips- he was holding you in place. After pressing another kiss to your skin just below your navel, Eddie paused. When he looked up at you, you could feel the space of the universe fill your lungs. When his eyes met yours, the heat of the sun made its home within your ribcage.

“Please,” you begged. It was all you had to say.

He bit his way down your thigh, leaving another trail of marks on your skin. His lips were so soft against your skin. When he reached your aching pussy, he grinned.

“You’re soaked for me, sweetheart. How long have you needed this?”

“Too long,” you whimpered, though the sound turned into a moan as he pressed a kiss to your throbbing clit.

“My poor girl,” his tone was soft with the slightest hint of mockery. You opened your mouth to respond, but you cut yourself off with a whine as Eddie’s tongue met your entrance. He lapped at you, collecting your arousal like something feral. His nose nudged against your clit, making you cry out his name.

“That’s it baby,” he moaned, “Just like that, fuck.”

You called out his name again, and he buried himself deeper inside you- a reward for your good behaviour. You could feel Eddie smile against you, grinning like a madman and lapping up your arousal as it dripped down his face. You could feel your body clench around nothing, feel yourself draw closer to the edge.

His hands reached up, moving over your hips to your breasts. His calloused fingers brushed over your nipples, squeezing and circling until you threw your head back against the altar. You tugged at his hair again, pulling him closer to your core with a desperate whine- not that he was any better at keeping his composure.

The noises he made were nothing short of delicious- hungry praises and moans that let you know just how much he wanted you. After the blood-soaked night you had, you needed to hear that. You needed to hear him moan your name. You needed to hear how badly he ached for you. It sent you right over the edge.

You let out a weak cry as he devoured you, as he sucked and bit softly, and as his fingers dipped down to find your dripping entrance. You clenched around nothing, your hips thrusting into his face of their own accord. The world faded around you, disappearing into a void of stars that burned half as brightly as you did.

“You taste so good,” he whispered, sounding almost mindless, rambling as if eating you out had decimated his ability to think, “So, so fucking good.”

You simply panted in response. Your grip relaxed on Eddie’s hair for just a second before you pulled him up to face you. He went willingly, obediently, following the unspoken order. When you brought his lips to yours, you could taste yourself on him.

One of his hands left your chest, moving to your back to pull you closer, deeper into the kiss. His fingers spread out across your back, rough fingertips dug into you carefully, almost gently. You pinned his other hand to your chest, threading your fingers through his and pressing your joined hands into your skin. You and Eddie wrapped your bodies around each other, refusing to let go as you kissed the breath from his lips.

His body was soft but firm beneath your hands. He was your anchor, keeping you tethered in the real world, ensuring that you didn’t float off into another world while you were with him. You needed that.

Slowly, keeping his hands on you, you sat up. You wrapped your free arm around his neck. He literally couldn’t get any closer to you, but that wouldn’t stop you from trying. The hand that you had tangled with his slipped away, tracing a line down his chest until it reached the button of his jeans.

You let your fingers play with the fabric, slipping beneath it to feel the rough, scarred skin of his hip. You paused for a minute, surprised at what you felt. Eddie pulled back for a second, a mildly embarrassed look on his face. You didn’t let him stay away for long. You pressed your lips to his again, hard and fast as you full on attacked his jeans.

“You must want me pretty bad, huh, angel?”

“How do you figure?” you asked, pulling him closer with the arm around his neck and bringing your lips to his neck. You kissed the column of his throat for a few moments before you bit down harshly, lips and teeth completely unforgiving. When you pulled back, a large swath of his skin was stained purple.

“Yeah, pretty boy,” you pressed a kiss to the sore spot, “I want you.”

“Good,” he growled, pushing you back onto the table and pulling you to the edge of the surface. He brushed his hand across the side of your face before lowering it, tracing down your side until he reached your cunt, “Because I want to do unspeakable things to you, pretty girl.”

You moaned, your face burning hotter than the heat death of a small universe. Eddie slipped his fingers into you. He took things slow at first, torturing you by easing you into things, pumping into you gently with just the tips of two fingers. You mewled, craving more of his touch. You’d given up on wondering how his claws weren’t cutting you. You just wanted his calloused fingers to go deeper.

Eddie silenced your pleading whines with a kiss. Slipping deeper into you, he whispered, “You have to be patient, angel. You can be patient for me, right?”

“I-” you moaned as he sunk his fingers deeper. His dark eyes watched your face intently, taking in every change in your expression.

“Come on, sweet thing. You can be patient, right?”

You whimpered, opening your mouth to respond. You didn’t get the chance. Eddie moved his fingers again, moving his fingers in and out of your dripping slit. You moaned softly, and as your lips parted, Eddie added a third finger. The sound you made snapped, becoming louder and more desperate as your demon brought you to the edge again.

“Eddie,” you whimpered, “Please. Don’t be mean to me.”

He laughed a little, pressing a kiss to your lips as he brought his thumb to your clit. You came quickly, thrashing slightly in his arms as you clenched around his fingers.

“God,” he groaned, “You’re so fuckin tight. Such a good girl for me.”

You let out a little whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down on top of you. The two of you stayed there for a moment, holding each other again as you calmed down.

“Think you can give me one more, pretty girl?”

“Is that even a question?”

He kissed your throat again, keeping you distracted as he freed his cock from his pants. He pulled away for a moment, allowing you to see the absolute monster he kept between his thighs. You knew, now, why he had prepared you so thoroughly. It was necessary.

His cock was almost unnatural- long and thick, red near the tip and covered in veins. It looked… demonic. And you wanted to take him inside you as soon as you possibly could.

“See something you like, sweetheart?”

“I do,” you grinned, reaching out for him. He leaned in, placing his face against your palm. He smiled down at you, his eyes incredibly fond. You were the thing he had searched all time and space for- and you had searched for him. Now, you were both found, both real- as batshit insane as it was that this was the place that made you so.

“Let me know if it hurts,” he whispered, “If I need to stop.”

“I will. I promise.” He pressed into you, slowly and gently, letting you feel every single ridge and vein. You shut your eyes, moaning softly. Eddie braced himself with one arm, using the other to knead at the soft flesh of your chest. His lips were on your throat again, adding more marks to the sea of purple that he’d already made.

Once he was inside, he paused, just taking a moment to feel your body around him. You clenched down on him, running a hand into his hair to tug at it again.

“You’re so fucking warm,” he growled in your ear, “So fucking tight.”

“Thanks, I worked hard on that.”

Eddie lost his composure, thrusting into you gently as he laughed, “You are so deeply strange. I adore you, did you know that?”

You thrust your hips up towards his, “I kind of figured, I’m not gonna lie.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, his thrusts increased in speed as you bathed in the light of his smile. You could feel his cock deep inside of you, pressing against every sensitive spot you had. You moaned softly as his thumb stroked over your nipple. The stimulation of his calloused touch on your breast had you arching your back, pressing further into him.

“You’re so deep inside,” your voice wasn’t much more than a whimper, though you willed it to be stronger, “Fuck, keep going.”

“Whatever you want, baby,” he thrust into you harder, leaning down to bite your chest, clearly not satisfied with the job he’d done on your neck.

His hand slipped down to your clit, pressing into your swollen nub. He circled it in time with his thrusts, alternating between heavy pressure and feather light touches until you were seeing stars and screaming his name.

“Are you gonna cum for me sweet thing?”

You didn’t even get to answer his question. You came around his cock quickly, and he fucked you through your orgasm without a moment of hesitation. Your body spasmed, your walls clenching down on him until he moaned your name into your skin.

Your chest heaved as you caught your breath. Eddie’s lips didn’t leave you. He laved his tongue over the bite marks he’d made, and you could feel his smile against your skin.

“You’re so perfect, sweetheart. Such a good girl for me.”

You clenched down around him again, moaning this time at the praise. You searched your mind for a witty comment, something cute to say to make him laugh, but your brain was full of stars and nothing else. Every time his cock stabbed into you, another damn galaxy found life behind your eyes.

You used the hand you had tangled in Eddie’s hair to pull him closer. You pressed your lips to every part of him that you could reach.

“I love you,” you whispered, “I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

“I know, sweet thing. I love you, too.”

You tugged his hair, biting down on the side of his throat, and he moaned softly. You clenched your now sensitive walls around him, whimpering slightly at the sensation. He let out a sharp exhale, and his hand left your clit to wrap around your hip. You could feel how wet your cunt was just from the feeling of his damp fingers on your skin.

His thrusts grew harsher, his pace speeding up to something unforgiving. His grip on you was bruising, but you wouldn’t mind the marks.

“Are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” you asked, “Are you gonna cum inside me?”

His hips stuttered, and you could practically feel his heart skip a beat, “Can I?”

“Please. I want to feel you- I want this.”

“You- you promise you want this? The whole- the whole deal about your only purpose being to create life, that isn’t in your head, right?”

You shook your head, “No. Not with you.”

One of his hands found one of yours. Your fingers tangled together like they were made to do just that. You leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips, “Besides, I’m on the pill, anyway.”

He laughed again, briefly against your lips before he went right back to kissing you. He squeezed down on your hand, his teeth grazing your lip. You could feel him twitching against your walls, could feel his cock throbbing inside you.

He thrust all the way inside you as he came. Ropes of hot cum flooded your walls, filling your cunt and warming you from the inside out. Another orgasm took you by surprise, rolling over you suddenly and making you clench down hard. Cum spilled down your thighs, pooling on the altar beneath you.

When Eddie pulled out, you were both completely breathless. His hand was still in yours, his body still draped over top of you. You wrapped your free arm around him, your fingers landing on the spot where his back met his wings. They unfurled behind him, showing you their impressive size in whole.

“You’re amazing,” your voice was quiet, trying not to ruin the post-orgasm haze, “I don’t know how I managed to land you.”

“Are you kidding?” he murmured, his voice just as quiet, “I don’t know how I managed to land you. You’re terrifying,” he pressed a kiss to your collarbone, “And sweet,” another kiss, “And you’re fucking stunning,” a third kiss.

He pulled back, warm eyes dead focused on you, “I’m in love with you, sweetheart. I have been for a while.”

“Good. Because I love you, too, and I think all of this would be a touch awkward if you didn’t love me.”

He grinned, pressing his face into your shoulder and pulling you up. More cum spilled out of you and onto the altar. You reached down, collecting some of it on your fingers and putting it in your mouth.

“Fuck-” Eddie hissed, “Don’t do that. You’re gonna make me cum again.”

You threw your head back, cackling as Eddie put his forehead against your shoulder.

“Would that really be such a bad thing?”

“Normally? No. But I just noticed that that painting looks kind of like my dad, and it’s freaking me out,” he pointed at the wall, to the massive portrait of the smirking gentleman with black hair.

You tilted your head, casually running a hand through Eddie’s hair. If you squinted, you could almost see the resemblance between Eddie and the man in the painting. You didn’t want to think about it. You’d had enough creepy shit for one evening.

“We should get going,” you murmured, wrapping Eddie’s leather jacket around you again, “Hopper will be here soon, and I don’t really want him to see us like this.”

“Fair enough,” Eddie looped his hand beneath your knees, “You brought your stuff for the weekend, right?”

“I-I did. Eddie, wait-!”

Before you could stop him, he lifted you up, carrying you over the bodies and out of the room. You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly.

“Am I not-? Do I weigh anything to you?”

“Demon strength. It’s like lifting a bunch of grapes.”

You scoffed, letting your head rest against Eddie’s shoulder, “I don’t know where the butlers put my stuff. My bag could be in the body pit for all I know.”

“It’s not, I was down there.”

You scoffed again, ”Well, we’ll have to hunt for my shit I guess.”

You did. It didn’t actually take long. Most of your things had just been left by the door. As was the-

“Oh shit! The wine!” you exclaimed, patting Eddie’s chest until he put you down. You ran over to the bottle, which had been left just beside your bags- bags that you ignored entirely in exchange for the sweet bottle of vintage.

“Angel, don’t you-? Want your clothes first-?”

“Eddie, you don’t understand, this wine was fucking expensive and I didn’t think I was gonna get a chance to drink it.”

You struggled helplessly with the cork for a few seconds before you gave up and handed it to Eddie.

“Demon strength?”

He laughed at you a little, but he did open the bottle for you. While he did, you pulled some clothes out of your bag- a shirt you’d meant to sleep in, and some pajama pants. You kept Eddie’s jacket wrapped around your shoulders.

Once you were dressed, the wine was ready to go. You gave Eddie a cheer, and a small round of applause. He joined you, and for a moment you both applauded like idiots in the foyer of Roman’s big ass house. The portraits seemed to smile down at you, grinning your approval as you drank the blood coloured wine.

You and Eddie passed the bottle back and forth wordlessly as you made your way to the door. Your hand slipped into his again. Every time you held his hand, you felt more and more like that’s what your hands were supposed to do- what you wanted them to do. When you weren’t busy taking over the world, you wanted to hold Eddie close to you.

The two of you sat together on the front stoop of the McMansion. The porch light cast a warm glow over the front yard. The freshly mowed lawn had drowned beneath a sea of leaves since you last saw it. You let your head rest on Eddie’s shoulder.

“What the fuck are we gonna tell Hopper?”

Eddie took a drink of the wine, “The truth. Your in-laws tried to kill you. We didn’t let them.”

“I’m pretty sure we both committed several counts of murder tonight.”

He shrugged, “Eh, it wouldn’t be the first time. For me, anyway.”

You looked up at him, concerned, though you didn’t move away from his shoulder, “Should I be concerned?”

“I mean, I haven’t technically killed any people? It’s a long story.”

“Oh,” you nodded, taking the bottle from him and taking down a deep sip of wine, “So. What about the melted puddles of people? How do we explain that? Do we just tell the cops that you’re a demon?”

Again, Eddie shrugged, though a wince crossed his face, “Well, Hopper knows.”

“WHAT?”

“Yep. And Steve. And Robin. They know.”

“What? Okay, okay, who else knows?”

“Nancy doesn’t know officially, but I think she’s aware. Also, you know those kids who come into Family Video like, constantly?”

“Mhmm, the freshmen.”

“Yeah, they know. One of them was there for it.”

“It?”

“The incident. I’ll tell you about it another night, we’ve… we’ve been through a lot today.”

“That’s one way of putting it. I think tonight was my incident.”

“You could definitely call it that.”

You smiled, lacing your fingers with Eddie’s, “If this was my incident, I’m glad you were here for it.”

“Yeah?” he asked, placing his head on top of yours.

“Yeah.”

You let your eyes flutter closed then, knowing that you were safe from harm. When you woke, there would be no sirens, and no flashing lights. Just the guy with the sweet daughter, who bought literally all of the Barbie movies and Die Hard. The former for his daughter and her friend, the latter for his daughter’s other friends.

When you woke, Eddie would be there with you. His eyes would be brown again, and his wings would be tucked away so well that you would wonder if this whole nightmare had been a terrible dream. You would feel his hand around yours, and you would know it hadn’t been. You would know, finally, that you were no longer anyone’s prey.

You were the hunter.

♥ A/N: I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS SINCE SEPTEMBER WHAT THE FUCK. IT'S SO LONG MY EDITING SOFTWARE WOULDN'T ACCEPT IT, SO YOU'RE GETTING THIS THING RAW. happy halloween babes, i hope you enjoyed this. thank you to @mxcheese for reading this a million times, and to my partner for listening to me ramble about various plot points with no context.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #read the tws on this one man #im nervous to actually tag them since tumblr's been Bad about that lately #lmk if i should #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

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