#i love ed's hair way too much i guess | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carolmunson · 1 year

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let's go, don't wait (e.m. x f!reader)

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, some sexual themes. some discussions of bad parents. eddie had some sad parts of his childhood. all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (11k) eddie is 32, reader is 30. so older!reader i guess, idk. i already started writing the part two which is almost entirely smut.

Jingle. Click. Creak. “Mmmm.” Eddie knows that groan anywhere, the deep primal urging of a one Gareth Emerson and the giggles of his girlfriend, Tatianna Edwards. They stumble into the apartment, lips attached, hands grabbing and fisting each other’s layers from the cold.

“Hi guys,” he calls out, his tone was as bored and annoyed as he hoped it would be. His eyes don’t leave the TV, transfixed on the screen while he watches another YouTube compilation of the best guitar solos of all time. He disagrees with most of them, but it’s enough to drone on in the background while he scrolls through his Twitter feed. He’s never even posted. Not once. Not even a picture on his profile.

“Hi Ed,” Tati chirps, clicking the side table lights on. He can smell her Chloe perfume when she comes to give him a hug hello. Her arms wrap around him from behind the couch, cheeks touching, a few of her butterfly twists falling forward over his shoulder.

“Did you stay in tonight?” she asks, pressing a glossy smooch to his cheek. “Sure did,” he huffs, arms crossing over hers in a semblance of an embrace. Her gold bracelets are cool against his skin, her gold rings match his silver ones. He thought when Tati entered the picture that he and Gareth would’ve started to drift apart. Instead, Tati became Eddie’s new best friend – Gare really took ‘date the girl version of Eddie’ to heart. They were two peas in a pod. “You should’ve come out, there were a lot of single girls there – you’re a good dancer, you coulda snagged one,” she sounds like a mother trying to set him up. Eddie tilts his head up and looks at her from below, her deep skin shimmering with the glitter fallout from her eye makeup. She always looks pretty with ease, even with her makeup smudged – like she meant to do that.

“Oh, I’m sure,” he smiles tightly, but the look falls to something soft when Tati lets go and her almond shaped manicured nails rake gently over his scalp through his conditioned curls. “You can’t just keep picking up girls from shows, dude,” Gareth chides playfully, coming around the couch to sit next to him, “They’re starting to get waaaay too young for you at the bars.”

“Yeah, perv,” Tatianna teases, ruffling his hair before curling up on the recliner closer to the TV.

“Can we please not talk about this again,” Eddie sighs, sinking further into the cushions. He presses on his eyes with the heels of his hands, “You do this every time you guys come back from a date.”

“We gotta get you on Hinge, or something,” Gareth says.

“Tinder at the very least,” Tatianna follows.

“Okay, I’m going to bed,” Eddie grunts when he gets up, a little dizzy at the speed before he finds his footing, “Don’t be too loud tonight.”

“Just trying to help!” Tati calls out, “You deserve to be too loud at night, too!”

Eddie sucks his teeth before he turns the corner to the hallway, disappearing for the night while his friends fell more in love.

It feels like they’re disassembling a bomb. Eddie sulks in a seat at the kitchen table while Robin, Steve, Nancy, and Gareth chatter behind him. Jeff and his wife sit across from him with just as much excitement as the group opposite them. Eddie frowns, bangs too long over his eyes, hands sweating onto the back of his banged up stickered phone case.

“I think you should put the picture of the guitar last, it doesn’t have your face in it. I’d swipe past you,” Robin points at the screen in front of him while he tries to make sense of his Hinge profile.

“Well you’re a whole lesbian Rob, so you’d swipe past me anyway,” Eddie’s clipped words make the group laugh instead of making them back off. His shoulders sink immediately. This was mortifying.

“She’s right though,” Steve pipes up, “They’ll think you’re some weirdo who's obsessed with his guitar if you — well, actually then maybe it’s fine…”

“Why don’t you—” Jeff starts.

“You’re married and you’ve been with Alycia since 2014. Your opinions are void,” Eddie interrupts with a sigh.

Jeff lets out a laugh from his broad smile, “Look, I’m just saying. Why don’t you focus on your answers to the questions rather than the pictures? Girls love stuff like that. You’re smart, you’re a good writer.”

“Babe, they’re not gonna care about his answers if the first picture they see is of an out of focus guitar taken on an iPhone 4S,” Alycia cocks her head at Jeff, “Like, at least be honest with him.”

“I know you’re squinting in that picture from Jeff’s wedding but maybe you can put that one first,” Nancy points to the screen and then scrolls down a little. It lands on a photo of Jeff and Eddie, both sweating from the night's activities. His dress shirt is unbuttoned half way down his chest, silver chains and tattoos on full display, tie tied around Jeff’s forehead like a makeshift Rambo.

“Yeah, you look really good in it,” Robin agrees.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Tati shuffles into the kitchen, “I got in touch with the photographer from the show two weeks ago at Wraith Bar and he’s sending me some pictures.”

“You can use the six pictures you’re tagged in from the last three years,” Tatianna scolds, “You look like a bum in them.”

The group frowns and tosses glances at each other, it’s true. The more recent pictures they had of Eddie were far and few between. He was either blinking or off to the side, blurry or ducking out of frame. Every picture where he looks like himself was either from a show or had Chrissy in it, and he deleted all of those three years ago.

“Stop, you look so fine in these,” Tatianna squeals, “The girls are gonna love you.” Everyone but Eddie huddles around Tatianna to scroll through the pictures. Some of him mid shred with sweat pouring down his chest. Some of him screaming into the mic, hair wild and wet around his face. There was one, that he begrudgingly really liked, where his head leaned back into the light with a winning Munson smile. It was when he heard the opening drums to cover ‘The Immigrant Song’ as a gag – but not really a gag ‘cause he loves that song. It gets everyone at the bar pretty excited – even if they only know the song from School of Rock.

Eventually, Eddie isn’t even holding his phone, it’s being passed between Tati, Steve, and Robin while he dictates his answers to stupid questions. By the time his profile is finished, his head is hidden in his mass of curls, resting his forehead on his forearms at the table.

“Are we done now?” he asks into the space between his face and the woodgrain. Despite the winter air flowing through the kitchen window, he’s overheated with embarrassment. There are suddenly too many people around, too much talking, too much giggling at his expense. He tilts his head back up and takes a full breath through his nose and out through his mouth – “Oh shit! You matched with someone!” “How? I didn’t even look at anyone yet,” Eddie’s brows furrow while his head slowly comes to center. “Don’t worry about it, dingus,” Robin chides, “Just talk to her.” Eddie takes the phone and looks at her profile. Rachel, 27, Vet tech. She’s pretty, soft eyes, great smile. He swallows thickly before he goes to his ‘Matches’ and types three letters that felt like they took ten years to write: Hey.

The chats start fast and die faster, some flirty banter here and there before he’s too nervous or quickly bored. His heart squeezes every time he gets a notification, a buzz in his pocket, a reminder of a message. Some girls don’t want a relationship and that’s fine, that’s just not what he’s looking for. Some girls ask the big questions first and he can’t answer right away. Some girls just aren’t his type and he isn’t theirs either.

The first date he goes on ends with her excusing herself to the bathroom before they even get to order dinner. She doesn’t come back — he’s not even sure what he did. It started off fine, she was pretty with blonde hair and blue eyes. Fun and easy conversation, a voice that sounded like powder puffs and sugar scented perfume. If he blurred his vision a little, she could’ve been Chris. But she wasn’t Chris.

Maybe that’s why she left. Maybe she got the vibe that he was preoccupied with her looking like his ex.

Maybe it was because he said, ‘You remind me so much of my ex-wife,’ before they got to order dinner.

His second date wasn’t much better. He was proud of himself for not going for another Chrissy look alike, but it was clear that this new girl was on a hunt for a husband.

“So are you planning on getting the tattoos removed?” she had asked, pursing her red lips. He was surprised at how well her lipstick stayed on after eating a pasta dish. Whenever he wears makeup for a show, it smudges before the lights come up.

“Uh, no why?” he asked.

“Just y’know, thinking ahead — family photos and whatever,” she shrugged. His mouth had never run so dry in his life. The chicken alfredo turned in his stomach.

The third ended up being a quickie in the bar bathroom only for her to leave right after and unmatch him without as much as a ‘Thanks for a good night!’ He at least wanted to be a gentleman about it.

The fourth fizzled out and neither of them felt the connection.

The fifth felt weird because they had talked so much on the app that they didn’t have anything left to talk about when they went out for drinks.

A month had gone by and all he had to show for it was five bad dates and dozens of unanswered chats. Eddie was found sitting in his bed in the dark, only the light on his phone keeping him illuminated while he thumbs through Instagram. Another app that he has for no reason, he never posts, he never shares anything. He just scrolls.

He wonders if Chrissy’s on Hinge. Eddie’s stomach lurches at the thought of coming across her profile. All blonde and blue eyes, all sweet and spunky, all the right answers to her curated questions. Photos of her in the Maldives, in her friend’s weddings, of her in Chicago after she moved. His heart hammers, sweat collects on his bare chest, heating up the chain lying flat against it until it sticks. He quickly swipes out of Instagram to his home screen, a photo of Robin and Steve flipping him off from the stage after a Corroded Show during load out. He holds his thumb on the app until all the apps shake, thumb hovering over the ‘x’ on the corner to delete the Hinge for good.

What’s another three years of being single?

“Ed?” he hears Tati on the other side of the door, her soft knock following her voice, “I got Indian and I’m not gonna eat it all. Gare doesn’t want it, you want it?”

“Yeah, sure,” he hums. She opens the door and sighs at the darkness. He squints as the light pools in from the hallway and sees her lean her shoulder against the door frame.

“Are you in here sulking?” she asks, one brow raising.

“Yeah, Tat, I’m in here sulking,” he groans, laying flat on his mattress, “I like to sulk. Let me sulk.”

“Don’t sulk,” she puts on a pout and flicks his light on, leaving the containers of rice and chicken saag. He groans when the light stings his eyes, tossing a forearm over his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice falling into kindergarten teacher territory. She never realized her profession would come so handy living with two grown men, “Why’re you being such a baby in here?”

“I think I’m gonna delete the app,” he murmurs, still hiding under the protection of his tattooed arm. The pressure feels good on his face, releasing the tension starting to brew behind his eyes. He hadn’t eaten since his lunch period at work, the hunger was starting to catch up to him.

“Don’t delete it,” she shakes her head, crawling onto the end of his bed. She takes her twists out of her jumbo claw clip and readjusts to pull them all back away from her face. Tati eases his phone out of his hand and slides her glasses on, flinging his dead arm off his face to use his Face ID. He whines, face scrunching is disapproval.

“I told you to stop doing that,” Eddie complains, sitting up against his pillows before crawling out of bed to get the food waiting on his dresser, “Do you have any naan or…?”

“Do I look like a food bank, Munson? Damn,” she tilts her head and he raises his brows in a silent ‘Well, do you?’

She sighs deeply, “Yes, I have extra naan but you can only have it if you don’t delete the app and eat with us in the living room.”

“Those are two totally different asks, Tati,” Eddie huffs.

“I don’t make the rules,” she shrugs before starting to laugh, “Actually, I totally do.”

The phone buzzes in her hand and Tatianna’s grin only widens when she sees the notification, “You have a new like.”

“Whatever,” he shrugs, face laced with disappointment and frustration, “It’s gonna be another dud. Why bother if there’s no point? Like, this can’t actually be how people meet each other —“

Tatianna opens her mouth to protest but Eddie interrupts his own thought before she can speak, “You and Gareth are the anomaly.”

“What if the sixth time’s a charm? She looks really cute,” She smiles, teeth bright against her smile, cheekbones glistening where her moisturized skin hits the light.

He rolls his neck and sighs while Tatianna continues to encourage him, “Just try. You owe yourself that. Chrissy wouldn’t—.”

“Fuck Chrissy, Tat,” Eddie’s voice raises slightly, suddenly defensive. His chest burns at the sound of her name, heat rising up through his neck to his face, “I don’t really give a fuck what Chrissy would and wouldn’t want. ‘Cause if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have to be on these stupid fucking apps.”

“Whew, tell me how you really feel Ed,” she says while she stands up off the bed to walk towards him.

“Look, I get you’re still mad about how things went down with Chris. I know you’re still hurting, but you’re denying yourself a chance to start over — just shoot this girl a message. She seems cool,” Tati speaks so gently to him that he soothes instantly. She offers his phone, still open on the new profile — he’s hesitant at first but he takes it from her to look at the screen.

There you are. You are cute. Your profile is simple: your name, age thirty, your opening tagline ‘idk i’m just out here i guess’. He lets a puff of air out of his nose at the sentiment — ‘Same,’ he thinks.

“Fine,” he says finally, “I’ll look through her stuff and I’ll message her. Are you happy?”

“Thrilled,” she smiles, “So thrilled that I’ll even let you have the extra samosa.”

He follows her out of the room with his phone and food in hand, looking at her fondly when she passes him a tinfoil covered piece of naan in the kitchen, “You’re my best fucking friend, dude.”

“I thought I was your best friend?” Gareth pouts from the kitchen table, D&D notes littered in front of him.

Eddie scrunches his nose, tilting his head while he considers, “You’re alright I guess.”

When the food is done and he’s gotten a proper look at your profile he decides to bite the bullet — fingers shaking while he matches back with you. He doesn’t start with ‘hey’ this time because Robin and Steve said that was boring, so he tries something new:

wild that you’re just ‘out here’, me too.

…

lol, twin behavior. how’s your night?

Eddie’s heart hammers at the response. He’s surprised at the reaction, he hadn’t had that with any of his other chats, normally expecting them to die off after the first ‘Hey, how are you?’ pleasantry. But maybe this could be different, maybe this could be fun.

scored some indian food from one of my roommates so it’s one of my better nights.

ooh, i’m so jealous. i have buyers remorse from some baked ziti i ordered. should’ve just made it.

what did you get?

chicken saag, still jealous?

i’m more of a saag paneer girl but consider me over here seething.

Eddie grins into the phone, cheeks hot while he thinks about what to say back. He skims over your profile again, eyes stilling at a photo of you laughing on what looks like a cruise deck. The sun hits you like a golden streak across your eyes. The caption reads ‘the last time i felt a single shred of genuine happiness’, he huffs an airy giggle before going back to the chat.

you’re funny, did you know that?

um ya, i’m the funniest person i know, actually. 🥰

that's crazy cause i’m the funniest person i know. and since now i know you, it’s looking like we gotta battle for who the funniest is.

Jesus fucking Christ Munson, why can’t you just be normal? Why can you just say ‘lol’ and call it a night? He frets. His leg bounces while he waits for your reply, food rolling in his stomach. The cool metal of his rings is welcomed on his warm cheeks while he leans against his hand on the arm of the couch. The few minutes he waits for the buzz of his phone feel like eternities. But there you are to save him from his embarrassment:

lmao okay. where did you wanna battle?

there’s a bar in the city that i think could host. you around tomornight?

tommorow night* sorry, fuck, i was trying so hard to be smooth with it.

TOMORROW***** FUCK. LET ME LOG OFF FOR ETERNITY REAL QUICK.

yiiiiikes! embarrassing. but this proves you actually might be funnier than me. i’m not a sore loser so i’ll go on a date with you if that’s what you’re asking.

do you drink? it doesn’t have to be a bar.

i do! where did you have in mind?

there’s a spot called little spoon saloon in the city if you’re familiar. sorta cozy.

oh yeah sounds great for a battle 🙄

but yeah i know it, that’s not too far from my place. maybe we’ve seen each other before and never known it. two ships passing in the night~*

does seven work for you? i know it’s a monday, so we can do earlier if you gotta be up early or something.

sevens fine :)

okay :)

see ya tomorrow! Eddie bites his lower lip, breathing steadily through his nose while he sends over his number. Anything to get out of looking at the app for at least another day, anything to spare him from potentially running into Chrissy’s profile despite her being in a different state. It was getting close to the holidays, she could be around at any moment.

Before he can spiral, his phone buzzes again – this time a text from an unknown number. His grin widens, too caught up in the excitement bubbling in his chest to feel Tatianna’s stare from the recliner. hi, it's me. jsyk if you don't reach out by like, two tomorrow -- i'm considering it a cancellation and i do have a 50% cancellation fee. sorry!

50%? stop selling yourself so short, kid. but don’t worry, i won’t cancel. no? you’re not scared to battle? i’m never scared of a battle. :) (A lie.) see you tomorrow.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Tatianna smiles, cheeks tight from being unable to hide her excitement. “Are you talking to a girrrrrl?” Gareth teases. Eddie let’s out a ‘tssss’ while he stands up and stretches, quirking a brow at his best friend. “Is it a girl? You takin’ her out?” he asks again. “Yeah G, it’s your mom,” he shrugs, “Night y’all.” “Ed,” Tati whines, “Come on.” Pink floats across his cheeks, itching his nose to hide his goofy smile behind his hand. “Yeah, it’s a girl. And yeah, I’m taking her on a date tomorrow,” he groans. Tatianna squeals, shimmying with giddiness while the recliner rocks with her. Eddie’s too caught up in hiding his face, “Ugh, she’s cuuuute, Tati, what am I supposed to do?”

“Show her what she’s been missing,” Tati shrugs, “Everyone needs an Eddie.”

Last night, Eddie fell asleep caught in a memory that became a dream. He’s eight years old at the YMCA, Wayne sitting in the stands watching him – this is maybe two weeks after his dad dropped him off before he got sent to prison. Wayne wanted to make sure his schedule stayed the same as it could, so Saturday swim lessons it was – today was diving off the block. Eddie had been dreading this lesson for a month, knowing that level 2.5 meant you had to at least try. In level two, they had you stand on the block just to get used to it. He could barely breathe for the ten seconds it was up there, tears stinging his eyes while his teacher encouraged him to come closer to the edge. Three of his classmates had already asked if they were allowed to jump off. It looked fun but it was just so high up. What if it hurts? What if he landed the wrong way? He was up soon, standing behind the block with the rest of the kids, shivering from being out of the water. He could dive off the edge of the pool just fine – in fact, his teacher said he was a great diver, especially for an eight year old. So it should be no problem to dive off the block, he just had to do the same thing he always does. Just higher.

Gareth, before Gareth was his best friend, climbs up the block and puts his feet at the edge of the white plastic and metal. His teacher, Miss Tiffany, tells him to put his arms up and bend his knees and to dive at the whistle. The whistle blows and Gareth leaps – but he doesn’t dive smoothly into the water.

“BELLY FLOP!” Jason Carver yells from the edge of the pool where all the kids who already dove sat. They start teasing him relentlessly, Miss Tiffany helping him out of the water to inspect his red belly. Tears well up in Gareth’s eyes, his mom leaning over the bannister from the seating area. “Are you okay, baby?” she asks. Gareth burns red with embarrassment, only encouraging the cackling kids to get crueler.

Miss Tiffany puffs her whistle three times, “If you tease again, you’re not allowed to go to free swim. Do you understand me?”

The group quiets, slowly kicking their feet in the water. “Alright Eddie, you’re up next!”

He gulps, climbing up on the block slowly before standing to full height with his eyes closed. He takes a deep breath through his nose and out through his mouth, like his Uncle Wayne taught him to do when he was feeling nervous. When Eddie’s eyes opened, a chill ran through his chest – for some reason the block seemed higher than ever.

“Ready Freddie?” Miss Tiffany asked, treading water in her red bathing suit. She grinned up at him, knowing that the phrase always made him giggle – but not today.

“Arms up, knees bent,” she continues. Ed looks down at the water and the room spins, he can hear Jason and the class giggling. Hear the splashes from the kicks of their feet.

The whistle blows. He doesn’t move. The whistle blows, again. He puts his arms down. “You okay, Eddie? You can do it! You’re a great diver!” she cheers.

Eddie chews on his lower lip, thinking about the smack of the water when it hit Gareth’s stomach. The laughter. The teasing. The potential of the pain. The whistle blows again. Eddie climbs down off the block, sniffling when he makes it back to the pool deck, “I don’t want to Miss Tiffany.”

“C’mon Ed, I know you can do it! Do you want me to save you for last?” she asks, her smile still bright and encouraging. Eddie sniffles again, eyes burning with tears while Jason and his friends start to tease him, too. “Swimming sucks,” he bites, stomping towards the boys room, grabbing his ratty towel off one of the benches on the way in. He’s only in the locker room for a few minutes before he hears the door open and Wayne’s apologetic voice talking to Miss Tiffany from the deck floor.

“He’s just goin’ through a lot right now,” Wayne says, his gruff voice rattling off the metal of the room.

“Eddie?” Tiffany’s voice calls.

“Come out here, son,” Wayne calls, “Y’know, if your decent.”

Eddie sniffles back his tears again, shuffling over to the door while Miss Tiffany waits with his Uncle.

“Do you maybe wanna stay a little late today and we can practice diving off the block when class is over?” she offers, “I know it can be scary to do it in front of your classmates, but I want you to pass to level three!”

“No thanks Miss Tiffany,” he mumbles to the tiles on the floor.

“That’s okay Eddie, maybe we can try again next week. How’s that sound? I know you can do it,” she says softly.

“Okay,” he murmurs before turning on his heel and moping back into the locker room. Wayne was waiting by the check in desk when Eddie emerged after changing, his ratty towel slung off his shoulder.

“You okay?” Wayne asked.

“Yeah, can we just go home?”

“Sure kid, was gonna stop and get us some lunch if you wanted,” Wayne’s eyes crinkle with his smile, “Wanna go to McDonalds?”

Eddie returns the smile half heartedly, “Yeah.”

They walk to Wayne’s pick-up hand in hand, despite some parents thinking he’s ‘too old’ to be doing that. He needed the support, and his uncle was never one to make him feel like he didn’t have it.

“So d’you wanna try again next week? Your starting form was great, buddy,” Wayne asks while Eddie puts his seatbelt on. Eddie considers it. Getting to the edge of the block and making Jason Carver eat his own words. Making him look like a loser for a change.

But the words ring in his ear ‘BELLY FLOP!’ The relentless teasing if he didn’t do it this week and then messed up next week. He’d be a baby and a joke.

“I don’t wanna do swimming anymore, Uncle Wayne,” he huffs.

“You sure?” his uncle frowns, putting the car into gear, “You’re really good, Ed. Y’could be on the swim team.”

“I don’t wanna come back. I quit,” he repeats. He crosses his arms while they pull out of the parking lot, watching the rest of the kids pool out of the doors with smiles on.

Eddie wakes up to his alarm blaring, back in his 32 year old body. He swears that the air of his bedroom smells like chlorine.

Eddie made sure to text you at 1:59 PM like an asshole.

still on for tonight? :)

so close to having to pay my cancellation fee.

but yes, still on for tonight :)

sorry, work’s been wild today. would’ve texted you sooner!

you’re off the hook…

for now. 😡

He likes your little attitude, he decides. That little hint of sass in your messages keeps him on his toes and it’s not lost on him that this is probably how you flirt. He wonders, selfishly, how easy you are to fluster. You both exchange a few back and forths before he’s finishing up work for the day and heading to Wheeler’s for a campaign chat.

The texts completely drop off while he gets ready to see you. He takes an extra long time in the shower, using the tiniest squeeze of Tati’s curl cream when he comes out because it makes his hair look good. He scrubs his face raw before shaving, following up with the skin care routine he kept up with, even though Chrissy curated it for him.

Once dressed, he stepped quietly out to the living room to grab his jacket in the closet and pull out his boots.

“You used my curl cream, I see,” Tatianna crosses her arms. He blushes.

“Don’t be mad, I just wanna look good,” he puts on a faux pout, eyes rounding while he slides the leather over arms.

“You look really good,” she smiles, “It’s gonna be great.”

Eddie shoves his socked feet in his Docs, worn in from years of wear, and looks up at her, “I’m kind of excited.”

“You should be! I don’t know, I just have a really good feeling about this one,” she smirks, “Text me at some point, let me know how it goes.”

“It’s a better indicator if he doesn’t text you, Tati,” Gareth says, coming up behind her, “You look sharp, dude.”

“Sharp?” Eddie rolls his eyes, “What’re you? Eighty?”

Tatianna clicks on her phone to look at the time, “Can you get the fuck outta here? You’re gonna be late!”

“I’m going, I’m going!” he laughs, arms up while he grabs his keys from the hook by the door, “Wish me luck, bye!”

Eddie felt sick. Suddenly feeling like he was standing at the edge of the pool in ‘98.

When he got his keys in the ignition of his Honda Civic, a text came through immediately. He swallowed tightly, in some way expecting it to be you. In some way, expecting you to be canceling on him.

Instead, it was Tatianna in the big group chat:

here, we made a playlist for you

Eddie clicks on the Spotify link and laughs. First Date - Blink 182

First Date - Blink 182

First Date - Blink 182 First Date - Blink 182 First Date - Blink 182 First Date - Blink 182

And so on. The music automatically connects, the opening guitar ripping through his speakers. Eddie quickly types up a response on his phone before pulling out into the street.

very creative, edwards.

someone in this house has to be. ‘In the car, I just can't wait, to pick you up on our very first date. Is it cool if I hold your hand? Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance?’ He rolls his eyes as Mark and Tom serenade him in the car, laughing at the lyrics. It’d been a while since he’d listened to this album, let alone this song. While he won’t admit it to Gareth or his girlfriend, it was exactly what he needed before he got to the bar.

‘Do you like my stupid hair? Would you guess that I didn't know what to wear? I'm just scared of what you think, you make me nervous so I really can't eat.’ “Let’s go, don’t wait, this night’s almost over,” he sings along, fingers tapping on his steering wheel while he waits at a red light. He’s on the fourth replay of the song by the time he pulls up. The ignition cuts off the lyrics before the chorus, he takes a big breath before opening the door. Just a couple minutes past seven, but he told you he was running a little late, so you wouldn’t be mad. His phone buzzes to Robin, Steve, and Jeff reacting to the playlist Tati sent. Alicia, Jeff, and Nancy sent him sweet good luck messages. Robin and Steve sent them a picture from a bar they were at, flipping him off. ‘Break a leg, dingus,’ came in her follow up voice memo. Eddie considers making this new picture his phone background.

He swallows hard when he gets to the door, his bottom lip getting pulled between his teeth in apprehension. He nods to himself, “You got this, Munson.” Another deep breath, he’s still ten, he’s still afraid to dive off the diving block. What if it hurts? What if he belly flops?

‘What if you don’t? What if you dive this time?’ He thinks to himself. He opens the door to the bar, his ten year old self puts one foot on the diving block. The chatter of a few conversations at once is disorienting, so is the low light of the bar in comparison to the neon outside. The man at the entrance asks for his ID and he awkwardly fumbles for his wallet as if it’s not obvious he’s been old enough to drink for eleven years. “Here, man,” he says, somehow nervous he’ll get caught with a fake like he’s nineteen again. The security’s light flashes over his birthdate and he passes it back with a short and gruff thank you. Eddie takes a few steps before checking his phone to remind him what you said you’d be wearing.

in a red cut off sweatshirt, jeans that look like dickies – hard to miss! white airforces! i’m here, looking for you if you can’t spot me just approach the most off putting girl at the bar, it’s probably me :)

He smiles into the light of his phone. You’re are funny. His phone lights up again, another text bubble added to your previous one. Eddie’s heart hammers in his chest when he looks at it, knowing you’re really only moments away. got you a guinness cause that’s what you said you liked on your profile. it looks like battery acid tbh. there’s a couple seats by the end of the bar, i’ll grab them. He looks up from his phone finally to see a blur of red start maneuvering over to the end of the bar. That’s you. Oh shit, that’s you. Oh shit, you’re – fuck. You have a fat fucking ass in those jeans. He swallows again, shaking the horny thoughts out of his head through the tendrils of his hair. Another deep breath through the nose, out of the water to the diving block just to dive again. He walks the length of the bar and hears his name, your voice in real life – not through a voice note or on your profile. “Ed?”

Eddie catches your eye and his heart sinks and leaps so quickly he thinks he’s going into cardiac arrest. You’re real pretty, even more so when you grin at him from a few feet away. You wave him over and he does his best to walk confidently towards you, taking his jacket off while he does. He doesn’t know it, but the other girls at the bar are looking. He’s all broad shoulders and dark tattoos, two silver chains and understated rings. Full lips and doe eyes. Tatianna never told a lie, he was unmistakably handsome – he just didn’t know what to do with it. You toss your hair when you speak to the bartender from the end of the bar with a bright smile. The man puts two drinks in front of you and you leave cash in their wake. Eddie winces when he sees you pay, but tries to ignore the sting. In a way, it feels like he’s already losing – like he’s playing Sims with Robin and he’s not on track to get a gold reward on date night. You’re hot and you know it, but he can tell it’s like you just found out. Your eyes are flirty no matter what you’re looking at, you’re full bodied and it’s like you know it’s making him salivate. Eddie can’t help but be nervous when he takes a seat next to you, fingers immediately drumming on the bar top in front of him. “Guinness for you,” you say, sliding the pint glass in front of him. “Thanks,” he smiles, “You didn’t have to do that. I asked you out, you’re not supposed to be paying for me.”

“I know, but – why don’t you get the next one and we’ll call it even?” you offer. He nods while he takes a sip, eyeing the lighter orangey liquid in your glass. “Did you get a cider?” he teases.

“It’s a grapefruit beer, thank you,” your brows furrow at him while you take a sip. You have a good face, part of him wants to say that but it seems like a weird compliment. ‘Nice face.’ Like, what does that even mean? His tongue feels heavy, he can feel the sweat building under his curly bangs. “Weaksauce,” he laughs, scrunching his nose, “Grapefruit beer? Not for me, toots.”

“Yeah, because you drink battery acid!” you tease back, “You’re a stout snob, huh?”

“Nah, just never heard of grapefruit beer. I always drink Guinness – or like, Miller light. Never really stray,” he shrugs.

“You wanna try mine?” you ask, sliding the glass to him.

“You sure?” he watches you nod and brings the beer to his lips. It’s tart, a little bubbly, hitting his tongue on the off beat from the stout before. It settles and then it’s sweet, he wonders if you’re the same. Eddie smacks his lips, “I don’t hate it.”

“That’s such a stout snob thing for you to say,” you pull a face, bringing your drink back to sit in front of you. “I’d offer you a sip of mine but I know you don’t like it,” he smiles, “Wouldn’t want to ruin the taste of your dessert beer.” “Fuck off,” you shake your head and smile, taking another sip of your drink. The Guinness in his hand makes him feel less nervous, but not all the way – toeing the line of the end of the diving block but not scared to look down into the water. He can tell you’re nervous too by the way you pick at a hangnail on your thumb absentmindedly, the way you cross and uncross your legs. Eddie’s eyes linger for a moment at the way they spill over each other, squishing flat on the seat of the stool when you keep them uncrossed. He tries to discreetly follow the line of your thighs to your hips, up to your waist before getting ahead of himself and pulling his eyes away.

“How was your day?” you ask. Not the question he was expecting. “My day?” he asks, brows raised while he tries to recollect anything before getting ready to see you. “Uh, my day was good. Yours?” You fucking dumbass, you couldn’t just spare one detail? She’s gonna think you’re an asshole. “It was fine,” you answer quietly. Your smile fades a little and he feels a panicked chill rush in his chest. “S-sorry, I should’ve elaborated. I sound like such a dick, sorry,” Eddie feels the heat creeping up on his cheeks, a clamminess starting up at his hairline, “I um, I went to work. Came home, went to a friend’s house for a minute and we talked about a campaign we’re putting together next weekend. I had some dinner, and then I started getting ready to see you and um – uh, now I’m here.” “Campaign? Are you a politician or somethin’?” you quirk a brow while you look him over. He feels insecure under your gaze, he hopes you like his tattoos.

“No, no, it’s for Dungeons and Dragons.” Saying it outloud makes him feel like a loser, even though you don’t react like you think so.

“Cool,” you smile.

“Do you like, even know what that is?” Defensive already, waiting for you to make fun of him. Waiting for this to end up another mistake. Waiting to belly flop.

“Yeah, I know what it is,” you answer quietly again, this time your shoulders, “Have some friends that play.”

“Oh, cool. Cool,” Eddie nods, chest tightening, toying with his rings while you reach for your drink, “Um, I’m — yeah, sorry if that came off like, dickish. I didn’t mean to—.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you shake your head when you say it, almost like it’s rehearsed. Like you’re always ‘okay’-ing something.

“Sometimes people think it’s weird when I tell them, I dunno,” he shrugs, still looking down at his rings, “If I’m being honest I haven’t been so great at this whole dating thing.”

You smile again and he looks up in time to see it, his breath hitches. You’re very pretty.

“If it makes you feel any better, I learned how to play Magic the Gathering twice to impress a boy. Two different ones,” you grimace, scrunching your nose, “Gross right?”

“Oof, that’s rough,” he jokes, “Magic the Gathering? That’s like, way worse than D&D.”

“Well the difference between you and me, is that I don’t still play,” you bite back, cocking your head while you take another drink. “Didn’t impress those boys after all, huh?” he raises a brow and your mouth falls open in faux offense.

“You’re so mean,” you gasp.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he drawls, “Should’ve put that in my profile.”

“Oh, so you are mean?” you grin.

“The meanest,” he grins back, teeth straight and shiny. Full lips pulled tight against them, “How was your day?” “I worked,” you shrug, “Not as exciting.”

“What do you do?” he asks, turning towards you on the stool, leaning one arm on the bar. He relaxes into the seat, legs spreading wide while his free hand runs nervously over his thigh.

“I’m a personal assistant to a jewelry maker,” you let out a half chuckle through your nose, “It sounds fake when I say it out loud. But basically, I just keep her schedule and run errands and keep her shit in order. She’s an older woman and she’s not the most tech savvy in the world — great at what she does though, really eccentric but I feel like you gotta be when you work in the arts like that.”

“That’s cool,” he says softly, watching you talk, “What kind of jewelry does she make?”

“Oh you’ll love this, since you like D&D and stuff,” you start, your excitement is infectious, his heart thrums, “She makes fine jewelry for the most part, but also makes anodized chain mail jewelry and wearable pieces for theater and ren fairs on the side. I told you, eccentric.”

“Oh, so she’s a little alchemist, huh?” he smirks.

“Kinda, yeah,” you shrug, heat hitting your cheeks while he keeps his gaze on you, “It’s cool to watch the first few times, and then you get bored.”

“I’m sure it’s the same for people who watch my band,” he laughs. You shake your head, a curve pulling from the corners of your lips while you finish your beer.

“Alchemist,” you repeat with a playful roll of your eyes, “You’re such a nerd.”

“What do you do for work?” he notices you fully turn when you ask, your knees toward him. He remembers Steve telling him once that it was always a good sign when they do that. Like Steve knows anything about body language and dating these days, he’s been platonically attached to Robin for years. His little guard dog.

“I’m a teacher,” he replies, knocking back the remainder of the Guinness in his glass.

“Hm,” you hum, looking him over suspiciously, “That’s surprising.”

“I work at a performing arts school,” he rolls his eyes, “It’s 2023, I’m allowed to have tattoos.” “What do you teach?” you squint when you look him over a second time, “Actually, let me guess – drama?”

“Music theory,” he corrects.

“Ooh, big brain,” you joke, “That’s cool.”

“Big brain? I don’t know about that, I just like music,” he shrugs, “It makes sense to me.” “When I was in high school everyone always talked about how hard music theory was – like, all the band kids,” you explain, there’s a sparkle starting to glint in your eye when you talk to him. “You were hanging out with the band kids?” he tosses a sarcastic knowing look before taking his glass in his hands, “And I’m a nerd? I dunno girl, it’s not looking good for you here...” “Even worse, I was dating one,” you grimace back. “Fuuuuck, you were really fighting for your life in 2009 huh?” Eddie laughs low, lower lip tucking in between his teeth to run his tongue over it.

“2007, 2008 all the way to like, 2016,” you hide your face in one hand and he wishes you wouldn’t.

“Damn, that’s a long time,” he observes, “You didn’t marry that guy?”

You lift your head back up, and shake your head, “It was on and off for a long time, he’s not a fan favorite. It’s uh – it’s why I normally don’t date musicians. I almost didn’t match with you ‘cause of your first picture.”

Fucking Tatianna.

“Eek, sorry,” Eddie puts his hands up, “Should I go?” “Do you play bass?” you wince.

“I play a lot of instruments,” he chuckles, “I can play the bass. But I’m not like…a bass player, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, I know what you mean,” you breathe out a sigh of relief, “Made that mistake more than once.” “What’s your favorite instrument that you play?” you ask, it’s almost girlish. He ponders it while you cross your legs, the toe of your shoe barely brushing the back of his calf but he knows it's there. You rest your chin on your fist while you watch him think about it. His brown eyes glint in the reflection of the light overhead, plush lips parted while he runs his hands over his stubble. “I think I’d have to say…electric guitar? I’ve been playing that the longest,” he hopes you think that’s cool. “Is it the same one that’s in your pictures?”

“The Warlock?” he asks with a grin, “Yeah, that’s my girl. Best relationship of my life, prob’ly the only lady who talks more than me.”

“It’s really nice. I like the color.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly, eyes darting to your knees where they sit between his, “Um, can I get you another drink? Do you want a beer or…?”

“If I get a real drink will you stop making fun of my beer?”

“I promise.” He slides off the stool, sad to see your close proximity to him fade away when he stands up.

“They have food here, right? I’m sort of hungry, if that’s okay,” your voice gets sheepish when you ask.

“Yeah, that’s okay. Did you eat dinner?” The words fall out of him too fondly.

“I had like, a huge spinach salad,” you explain, “Might not have been enough.”

Something tells him to press further before he buys you more liquor, lest this date go to the wayside too quickly, “Did you eat lunch?”

“I worked through lunch.”

“Did you eat breakfast?”

“I had a smoothie,” you confess.

“Okay, so before I get you a drink, why don’t I get you some chicken fingers or something?” he insists. You’re shy in your smile back to him, nodding along at his advice. Yes, you should eat more before you keep drinking with him. He doesn’t want you to think he’s just trying to get you tipsy, he’s never been that kind of guy – even when he’d bring home girls from the bar. (They’d at least be the same level of totally obliterated as he was.)

He beams back at you when you nod, “Atta girl.”

He doesn’t notice when your thighs clench.

The last chicken finger is eaten, the last fry of the basket he got for you to split crunched through. The conversation had lulled, not because you weren’t interesting – the nerves were getting to him, creeping up like vines along his chest. The look over the diving block at the water, it’s slow waves teasing him to jump.

“So um,” you began, swallowing your final fry and wiping your hands on a napkin, “Since you’re a teacher, how was school today?”

Eddie’s so used to this question that his response doesn’t change, always the same quote from the same movie. Forgetting he doesn’t know you like that, his mouth moves quicker than his desire to play things off cool.

“The worst day of my life, what do you think? Gosh!” Eddie sounds more like John Heder in 2004 than John Heder does now – but when he hears himself say it, he’s immediately embarrassed. Eddie opens his mouth to apologize, nervous you won’t understand but instead – you laugh. And what a sound that is for him to hear.

“Oh, shit. I haven’t watched Napoleon Dynamite in years. Like, not since grade school.” Eddie laughs with you, “Sorry, sorry, that’s like my go-to reaction at home when my roommates ask me that. I should’ve said something more normal like, ‘It was fine. The kids can’t stop trying to take TikTok fancams of me.”

“Roommates? Fancams? You’re so hip, tell me more,” you enthuse. He puts a finger up to stop you at first, locking eyes with the bartender so he can finally order another round of drinks.

“What kind of real drink do you want?” he asks.

“Just a marg on the rocks, salt,” you shrug.

“Psh, I said a real drink,” Eddie teases with a roll of the eyes, but they soften when you go to argue back, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

His toes inch towards the middle of the diving block.

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he flirts. Eddie can see the heat hit your cheeks, the creep of a smile slowly curving upwards, you’re embarrassed. Nervous like he is. Maybe this is going just fine.

When the drinks arrive he slides the margarita towards you and sips his own Jack and Coke slowly through the tiny bar straw.

“Okay, so. I have two roommates. Gareth, who’s been my best friend since I was nine; and Tatianna who has been my best friend since I was twenty-nine,” he explains.

“So why aren’t you dating Tatianna?” you challenge. You miss the straw when you reach for it with your mouth, it slides over to the other side of the cup. You try again and miss, cheeks burning while Eddie looks at you continue to fuck up. His eyes glint mischievously while you hold in your frustrated laughter, “Stop looking at me.”

“It’s fine, I’ll wait while you get your life figured out over there,” he jokes, checking ‘the time’ on his wrist, “Shouldn’t be too long until you finally get it.”

“You’re so annoying,” you grit out playfully while you capture the straw between your teeth, “Should’ve put that on your profile, too.”

“Anyway,” he continues, “I’m not dating Tatianna because Gare’s going to propose to her when they go on vacation in a few weeks.”

“Oh! Yeah, that makes sense,” you nod, “Probably not a good idea to date your best friend’s almost wife.”

“Yeah, definitely not well advised,” he shakes his head, pulling his hair up off of his neck for a minute before dropping it down, “Plus, her last name is Edwards and I dunno…don’t think I could live with myself if I was ‘Eddie Edwards’.”

You laugh again and he hoped you would. It’s a goofy laugh, you don’t try to sound cute when you do it. He knows you must be a loud laugher, if your small ones are any preview to what you could really do. You don’t sound like Chrissy. Her laugh was dainty, feathery. Like how they teach you to giggle in an etiquette class – all soft edges, all smooth lines.

“You wanna take the girl’s last name?” you raise your brows, “Very forward thinking. Progressive.”

“I don’t know, something about it’s kinda hot right?” he asks cock of his head, “Plus, my dad sucks so I don’t want to keep repping him by having his last name.”

“Oh wow, my dad sucks, too,” you reply cheerily, “We have so much in common!”

“What was it you said before? ‘Twin behavior’?”

“Twin behavior, yes!” your hands meet both of his knees where he sits across from you, your tone is light and earnest, “You get me.”

Eddie takes in a hitch of breath, desperate to keep his cool when he feels your hands on him. It’s not even sexy but he could shoot straight to the moon if you asked him to. You use his knees as leverage to hop down from your stool, grabbing your drink before nudging him with your hip.

“If we’re still battling though, there’s an air hockey table in the back room if you wanna play,” you offer.

“Are you any good?” he wonders, hopping off the stool to follow you to the back.

“I’m amazing,” you grin, “Actually won seventeen first place trophies in the intergalactic air hockey competition – of course I’m fucking bad at it, that’s why it’s fun to play.”

Eddie laughs this time, it’s gruff and nicotine soaked. You’re already winning the battle for funniest person – you’re sharp with him and he’s starting to like it. He runs his hand over the side of the air hockey table in the empty back room, more and more pleased that he put this date together on a Monday. He slides a dollar into the machine so it whirs to life, the neon lights flicking on with a stutter.

“This reminds me of birthday parties when I was a kid,” you muse to yourself, reaching for the hockey disc trapped in your goal, “Can you help me?”

He nods, hand grazing your back to get you out of the way – you’re warm to the touch. If he was a braver man he would’ve pulled you into him but he’s not, instead squatting down to reach further into the goal where your game piece was.

“Hm,” he murmurs, reaching further back and barely touching the top of it, “It’s in here, it’s just back there. I can get it, just –” he sucks his teeth like he did the night before, getting to his knees to try. Music plays over head, stuff the new crop of bar goers would consider oldies. You smile at the opening ‘Damn, shawty snappin’...’ of T-Pain’s ‘Buy U A Drank’, but even more surprised when you hear Eddie sing along softly to himself.

“Snap ya fingers, do yuh step, you can do it all by yourself. Babygirl, what’s your name?” “Not you knowing the lyrics,” you laugh.

“I was in highschool in 2007 of course, I know the lyrics,” he huffs, standing up, “I think it’s a bust for air hockey.”

“That’s fine,” you shrug, “We tried.”

“I know the club, close at three,” he lip syncs to himself before, turning his attention to you, “What’s the chances of you rollin’ with me?”

You back and forth to each other in time with the lyrics before settling back down in your spot at bar.

“You even know the Yung Joc part? Damn,” you laugh again, he loves it.

“Why’re you so surprised? Is it the tattoos?” he asks.

“Well yeah, you definitely give off a ‘loved Avenged Sevenfold’ in high school vibe,” you scooch your stool closer to his, your knees slotting between his open ones like a perfect puzzle. It’s not enough though, and he’s not sure if it’s himself or the Jack and Coke that encourages him, but he reaches for one of the legs of your stool to pull you closer.

“Hey,” he says, your faces only a few inches apart.

“Hey,” you respond. You catch his eyes flick briefly to your lips before they meet yours again. You can see the light smatter of freckles over his nose, long faded from the summer.

“You’re right, I was really into Avenged Sevenfold when I was in highschool.”

“I figured. I was into that whole scene thing, back then. All those singers that are mad at their dad’s and like, in retrospect, all hate women I guess,” you realize it as you speak.

“I probably would’ve thought you were cute,” he guesses.

“No, you would’ve called me a poser,” you correct, “Don’t lie.”

He hesitates before nodding, “No, no, you’re right I definitely would’ve called you a poser. Did you like Fall Out Boy and all of that shit?”

“Don’t shit on the music I liked,” you frown, “That’s not cool.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” he assures, pulse speeding, “I promise, I’m not. I’m sorry.” You continue talking about music, high school, college, some ins and outs. Nothing too serious. Nothing too intense. But by now, Eddie’s feeling nice and if one thing’s for certain:

He wants to fucking kiss you. Toes at the edge of the diving block, Miss Tiffany’s whistle caught between her teeth.

“So now that we’re three drinks in, can I ask you a personal question?” you ask, your eyes a little glassy. You’ve confessed that you’re tipsy, but aware, that if you have one more drink you won’t be – so Eddie already paid the tab.

“What do you wanna know?” he asks.

“Why’re you,” you enunciate, implying he’s something, “On the apps? It’s hard to believe that someone like you would be single. Unless you have like, something deeply wrong with you, but you’ve been all green flags so far.”

Your hand falls back to his knee and he eyes it before sliding his own hand down his thigh to lace your fingers with his.

“You want the real story?” he asks, lifting your hand up of his knee to play with your fingers in both of his hands while he talks. His hands are warm and calloused on the fingertips, but the rest are soft. Lacing and unlacing, running his thumb up the lengths of your fingers, tracing your palm.

“The real story.”

“You gonna tell me why you’re on the apps after?”

“Sure,” you nod. You look gentle, at ease. He eases in, too.

“I got divorced in 2020,” he confesses. It feels like a weight off his chest to tell you, “Married my high school sweetheart, things were great for a long time, but y’know. People grow and – the pandemic was not kind to us.”

“Oh, I’m…I’m sorry to hear that,” you offer softly.

“It’s okay,” he smiles tightly. “I guess I was both surprised and not surprised at all when she broke up with me. Almost relieved, I guess – that I didn’t have to play the part of her husband anymore. Not that she was a bad wife or anything, she was great she just – I don’t know,” he rambles, “And I don’t know, I just threw myself into work and my friends after. Girls after shows. Was too scared to like – go on dates incase it ended up like my marriage and –”

He laughs, “My friends were tired of seeing me be so sad, I guess.”

“You have such a solid support system,” you comment, “You mention your friends, like, every other sentence.”

A beat. “I like that,” you nod and smile. He can’t get over how you look when you do that.

“Why’re you on the apps?” he asks, your hand now cradled between the two of his, his fingers grazing your wrist.

“I’m six months out of a six year long relationship,” you let out a breath through your nose and drop your shoulders a little, “Figured it was time to get back out there – enter my slut era.”

“Oh yeah, you’re super slutty,” he teases, “That’s actually the first thing I thought when I saw you. ‘She’s in her slut era.’” “God, fuck offfff,” you giggle again.

“But yeah, I ended it. I figure I should make that clear,” you say, “Just in case that’s like, a red flag for you. But I don’t know, we just weren’t growing in the same directions. Things felt done way before I left and I – I don’t know. I think I was just scared. I took some time for myself and now, here I am.”

“It’s okay that you ended your relationship, it’s not a red flag,” Eddie’s voice soothes you when he says it, “If you told me you like, cheated on him and then hit him with your car then maybe yeah, I’d be a little concerned. But you’re an adult, you just know what you want better this time around.”

“Yeah,” you agree. Your eyes meet in a silent confirmation. His eyes flick to your lips for a second time before tucking his lower lip between his teeth again.

BELLY FLOP!

“You wanna head out? It’s getting a little late,” he offers.

Your brows raise in surprise, “Uh, sure, yeah.”

“Not that I don’t like spending time with you,” he assures, letting his fingers linger over your hand while he stands up, not wanting to lose contact just yet, “Just don’t want to keep you out too late.”

“Oh yes!” you start with an old southern twang, “My daddy’ll be out there with his pistol if I don’t get home ‘fore sundown.”

“You’re funny,” he laughs, letting go over your hand to reach up and squeeze your cheeks affectionately. You both put on your jackets and head outside, both of you wincing in the cold of the winter air.

“I’d really like to do this again, if you want,” a shy blush reaches his cheeks, meeting the pink from the cold.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you’re just as shy in your response, “This was fun. You’re fun.”

“Thank you,” he flushes deeper, trying to prolong the inevitable. What if he belly flops? What if it hurts? What if the kids make fun of him?

“I’d offer to drive you home but I’ve had a few,” he says, hand reaching out to fall on your shoulder, “I feel good to drive but like, god forbid anything happens so – I’m happy to get you a car or pay for it for you.”

“That’s really sweet, thanks. Let me just um,” you pull out your phone to get in Uber with a speed that impresses him, “It’s really not that pricey, I’m close-ish by.”

“Still,” he says, “Just wanna be a gentleman y’know?”

“You’re very gentlemanly,” you flirt. Eddie stiffens, nervous, palms clammy.

“So um, I’ll see you soon?” he asks, opening his arms to give you a hug.

“Yeah, for sure,” you nod while you let him engulf you. His scent is warm and spicy, mixed with tobacco. You guess either still smokes, or he used to, but he never got up to have a cigarette in the hours you were at the bar. Eddie let’s go and cups your cheek briefly before giving you a gentle but winning smile. His warm brown eyes linger for the last time on your lips, now they’re slightly parted, waiting for him. His toes curl over the edge of the diving block, his knees are bent, arms up over his head...I don’t want to Miss Tiffany.

Swimming sucks.

“See ya.”

You quirk your brow for a moment, having expected much more than a hug, “Oh, um…see ya.”

He walks half way down the street to his car, heart thrumming in his chest in embarrassment. He should’ve just done it. FUCK. He should’ve just kissed you.

But what if it hurts? What if she leaves? What if you can’t make it to level three? What if they laugh at you?

He breathes heavily through his nose while tears threaten to well up in his eyes, staining his eyelashes. What if you don’t want to see him again after this? What if you change your mind? He sighs audibly when he turns the key, phone auto connecting to the speakers. He turns up the radio while the car revs to life, pulling on his seatbelt and putting the wheels into gear. He leans back in his seat to pull out of his spot only to see you still waiting for the car outside of the bar.

Blink-182 blares through his speakers, hitting him straight in the chest.

‘Let’s go, don’t wait, this night’s almost over. Honest, let’s make,this night last forever. Forever. And ever. Let’s make this last forever.’

What if he did stay a little later after class? What if he got the chance to move on to level three?

Fuck it, he thinks. He turns off the ignition, shaking out the sounds of Jason Carver and the kids laughing, the sounds of their feet kicking in the water. Just Miss Tiffany and her whistle. He gets out of the car, determined. You’re still there, head whipping around to see him coming towards you while you bounce on the balls of your feet in the cold.

Arms up. Knees bent. “Ed? My car’s gonna be here in a sec–” Whistle. His hands reach out to your cold cheeks to pull you in before his full lips capture yours. His eyes flutter close at the contact, feeling your mouth react to his in time. Soft and needy, hydrated. You immediately know how to keep his pace while he separates and goes back in for more. Wet but not messy, passionate but not feverish. The smoothest dive he’d ever done in his life. Your hands escape your pockets, fingers sliding behind his neck to pull him closer, sliding through the nape of his hair. He breaks away for a moment to delicately push your hair out of your face and really look at you before pressing his lips to yours again. You only stop when your Uber beeps from across the street.

“I wanted to do that all night,” he mumbles sheepishly.

“I wanted you to do that all night, too,” you giggle, breathless and blushing, “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” he says, running a hand over his face, “Let me know when you get home, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, hurrying across the street as the car honks again, “Bye!”

“I’ll put something together for next time!” he calls out. ‘Cause there will be a next time.

Tatianna is leaning over the back of the couch with her chin in her hands when Eddie opens the door. Her cheshire cat grin matches his own.

“So I didn’t hear from you all night,” she starts, her voice syrupy smooth, “So that means it must’ve went really well.”

Eddie sighs dreamily, kicking off his boots at the entryway and hanging his jacket on one of the hooks by the door.

“Ooh, you like herrrr! I can tell! Look at your stupid face!” she laughs, pointing at him, bouncing on the cushions.

“Tati she’s…fuck,” he shakes his head in disbelief while he walks towards her, “There’s either two ways this could go.”

“Yeah?” she asks, looking up at him, “And those are?”

“I’m gonna marry her, or she’s gonna absolutely fuckin’ ruin my life.”

“I like her already,” Tati grins, “Sit down, tell me everything.”

“Yeah, yeah, give me a sec,” he grumbles, his phone buzzing in his pocket. He plops down onto the couch while Tati grabs two cups of tea from the kitchen that she made especially for the recap of his night. Gareth had been long asleep for an early morning at work tomorrow.

Eddie takes out his phone, two unread text alerts lingering on his home page. He opens them, smiling stupidly into the screen.

i’m home :) you’re a really good kisser by the way.

glad you made it home safe. you are too. :) but you started off pretty kissable so, that’s probably why. you’re making me blush over here, stop it.

Eddie lets out a soft chuckle through his nose, clicking out of your text conversation to go back to his home screen.

He deletes the apps.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson

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eagerbby · 2 years

Text

only you | e.m.

pairing| Eddie Munson x female reader

synopsis| You and Eddie were never meant to be just friends.

an| written in a world where Eddie was never accused, never died, and more importantly, finally graduated. not very canon, billy’s still alive and briefly mentioned. this was a quick break from a fix-it fic I’m currently writing and very much inspired by the song touch tank by quinnie. it’s eddies song and i’ll die on this hill.

warnings| oral (female receiving), PnV (protected), Eddie running his mouth, thats a warning in itself, 18+ only

[June 9, 1986]

The pitiless Indiana sun hung high in the cerulean sky, its uv-rays biting at your bare skin. The cool pool water lapping over your legs every time Eddie moved was the only relief at the moment.

“Have you ever been in the ocean?” He asked lazily, his long fingers flicking water across your bare thighs. The two of you lay opposite each other in the barely six foot wide and three foot deep blow up pool set up next to his front porch. Your feet floated next to his shoulders, grazing the freckled pale skin there every time he shifted or turned. Meanwhile, tall and gangly Eddie had his head propped up on the blue polyvinyl rim, his own feet hung over the side next to your head. He had bitched and moaned once the two of you had finally finished setting it up, “I don’t even fit all the way.” He’d complained. “Why’d you buy a damn kiddie pool?”

You had laughed at him, his pale body laying stick straight in the cool water in only a pair of plaid blue boxers. You had begged him to let you buy him a pair of swim shorts but he had refused.

“It’s just you and me, it’s not like you haven’t seen my boxers all over my bedroom floor.”

“Yeah, but what if you go to the public pool? You’ll need them then.”

“Ha. Not likely you’ll ever see Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson at the public pool. The parent’s would probably gather pitchforks and torches and hang me at the gallows.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Eds.”

“M’not. And anyway, I don’t like swimming, I’m only doing this for you.”

“My parents used to take my little brother and I to the Outer Banks when we were younger. We’d go every summer, swim in the ocean or walk the dunes to the lighthouse.” You opened your eyes to look at him only to find he’s already watching you speak, his deep brown eyes hidden behind the lens of his aviator sunglasses. His hair is almost dry now except for the ringlets that float atop his shoulders in the water. “You should probably take those sunglasses off before you get too much sun on your face. Gonna get a weird ass tan line from them.”

He does as you tell him, taking them off and tossing them onto the porch. “I’ve never been.” He said. “The ocean scares the fuck outta me. All that never ending water. Do you ever think about how many bodies are in the ocean? Lost to the dark depths of the sea.”

You sat up at his words, a perplexed look on your face as you stared at him. “Well that’s fucking morbid. Jesus Christ, Eddie.”

He only shrugged in his usual unbothered way, his knuckles grazing the skin of your thigh beneath the rippling water.

“You’ve never thought about it before?” He asked.

“Not really, no. I guess I blocked the thought from my mind. I love swimming in the ocean.”

“You love swimming with dead bodies. Got it.”

You splashed him at this, laughing as the small tidal wave blasted him. The shock of the cold water hitting his warm skin caused him to shoot up, water dripping down his face as he wrestled you backwards into the water. You squealed when he grabbed your shoulders, his hand holding the back of your neck as he dunked you. The gurgle of the water echoed your laugh and as he pulled you back up you spit a fountain of water right into his face.

“Who would have ever imagined that you, The Princess of Hawkins high and valediction, was such a freak.”

“I graduated two years ago, Eddie! Now I’m just the queen of folding panties at Starcourt mall, and failing my English lit course.”

You watched Eddie’s expression shift at the word panties, your best friend's eyes now slightly wider, his grip on the back of your neck a little harder. He was so close to you, sitting on his knees in the small pool, completely leaned over your body. You didn’t see him shirtless often and you had never seen him shirtless and so close. If you reached up you could trace the dark ink of his tattoo that sat just beneath his collarbone. Scratch your fingers against the small splattering of hair on his sternum. That strange feeling stirred in your stomach, the same one you’d been getting for a couple months now. You didn’t understand it and what made it worse was that Eddie, your best friend, was the sole cause of it.

You felt it for the first time after Eddie had fallen asleep during your weekly movie night. His head was laying on the pillow in your lap, you hadn’t even noticed he’d fallen asleep until you heard him softly snore. He’d had a bad day at school, Jason Carver and his cronies spray painting ‘Freak’ in bright red letters across the windshield of his van. When you got to his trailer later that day you found him sitting on the hood of the van with a razor blade, slowly scraping the still wet paint from the glass. You had tried helping him but he only waved you off, telling you it was fine. But his eyes were red rimmed and glassy like he’d been crying. You wanted to kill those stupid jocks, which you voiced with indignation. But Eddie had only shook his head. He wasn’t a fighter despite what the whole town thought. He just didn’t have it in him.

“Lets go.” You said softly, your hand holding onto his forearm as you looked up at him.

“What?”

“To the ocean. Let’s go to the ocean, Eddie.” It was only a whisper as it passed your lips, your eyes searching his face. His furrowed eyebrows made him appear confused, but there was something else swimming in the chocolate brown of his iris’.

“What are you talking about, Crazy?” He lazily dragged you to sit up as he shifted from his knees to stretch his long legs out in front of himself. You waited for him to get comfortable before bouncing up onto your own knees, your fingers excitedly grabbing the wet fabric of his boxers on his leg. You don’t notice his cheeks flush as his eyes quickly flashed down to your hands and back up to your eyes.

“You, Eddie Munson, are a high school graduate now. You have a whole summer before you have to start thinking about what's next! And I have some vacation time and a shoebox full of savings from the past two years.” You rambled, your smile so wide it hurts your cheeks. “We could take your van, o-or my car, and we could drive to the Outer Banks. Rent a motel and just have fun.”

“Y-you want to waste two years worth of savings to go to the beach?”

“It wouldn’t be a waste, Eddie! It’d be… well it’d be like an adventure.”

He was silent, looking away from you, his eyes scanning the quiet trailer park. Your shoulders dropped a little when you realized he didn’t share the same excitement as you. He had an entire summer to do whatever he wanted, why would he want to spend it with you driving to somewhere he’s never been.

He doesn’t even like the ocean, you idiot.

“Forget it. It’s stupid.” He jumped a little as you suddenly stood up, rivets of water rushing down the expanse of your body. You’ve stepped one foot out of the pool before he’s grabbing your wrist softly.

“Hey, where are you going?” He asked gently, his eyes wide like he’d just gotten into trouble.

“Inside to change. I think I got too much sun.” You shook your arm until his hand slipped from your wrist, falling back into the water with a splash. You snatched your towel from the rickety lawn chair and escaped into his trailer, ignoring him calling your name. You grabbed your bookbag from the couch and all but ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind you with shaking hands.

You felt so fucking stupid. You already spent eighty percent of your time with him, practically attached at the hip as his freshman friend Dustin had pointed out, how could you think he’d want to spend even more time with you. Especially somewhere far from home. For fucks sake, he hadn’t even looked at you as you went on and on about it. He was too nice to tell you it was a stupid idea. The way he stared off, probably thinking of how to let you down gently, was all the answer you needed.

In hindsight, it probably wasn’t that good of an idea. You weren’t known for your extraordinary planning skills and both of your vehicles were pieces of shit. In fact the likelihood of making it across the Indiana border just to break down in some podunk town was terribly high. The thought of spending the rest of your money getting the car fixed just to turn around and go right back home, broke and without ever seeing the damn beach, made you a little nauseous. Because that would be your luck.

A knock at the bathroom door made you jump. "Hey, you okay in there?" Eddie, voice peppered with concern. You tossed your bathing suit in the sink and turned the shower on.

"I gotta wash my hair, be out in a minute." You yelled back at the door before stepping into the shower stall, the hot water easing the tension from your muscles.

You didn't want him to think you were upset so you hurried through your shower, using his old spice to wash your body and his shampoo and conditioner that smelled of citrus in your hair. It was a distinct smell, one that was all him, and it made your stomach whirl once again. Your crush on him was starting to become a nuisance.

Once you were clean and dried off, dressed in his Iron Maiden shirt you stole from his drawer a couple weeks ago and a pair of black jean shorts that were frayed at the ends, you slowly cracked the door open, peering out towards the living room slash kitchen in search for a puff of raven curls.

He wasn’t there, so instead you followed the sound of Ozzy Osborne down the hall and into Eddie’s messy bedroom.

He was in his bed, back propped up against the headboard and rolling a joint with idle fingers. He was still shirtless but with a pair of gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, the band of his now white boxers resting against his dark happy trail. A wildfire blazed in your stomach at the sight and you couldn’t help but clamp your thighs together.

Does he not realize how unbearably hot he is?

He didn’t, actually, which was why seeing him like this all laid out with his chest bare and that smattering of hair that led down his abdomen and under his pants made your mouth so dry your tongue felt like it weighed 110 pounds and your hands so clammy you had to wipe them against your shorts. You cleared your throat in an attempt to subdue your racing thoughts and took a seat on the edge of his bed, body turned towards him watching him roll with ease.

He looked up with a smile when he felt your weight dip into the mattress. “Are you feeling any bette-'' He paused, glaring at the long haired zombie on your shirt. His shirt. “Is that my fucking shirt?”

You glanced down and back up, imitating the causal shrug he always gave you.

“Maybe.” You deadpanned. Eddie spluttered.

“Maybe? Who else do you know listens to Iron fucking Maiden?”

“I know people.”

“You know people?”

“A couple.”

Eddie’s eyes suddenly narrowed, a quiet disapproval in those deep brown eyes of his.

“Billy Hargrove?” He asked with a grating timbre in his voice you’d never heard before. He’d tossed the joint down into the ashtray and got off the bed, standing in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“B- What?” You’re so exasperated you can’t even form a sentence. “Billy Hargrove? What?”

“It’s him right? I know you used to hangout with him. He’s totally not an Iron Maiden fan, by the way. He definitely listens to Foreigner and cries in his piece of shit Camaro.”

“Hey! Don’t talk bad about Foreigner, I love them.” You stood up from the bed with your hands on your hips. “He’s a Guns N’ Roses guy anyways; completely idolizes Axel Rose.”

“Oh. Okay. So Billy Hargrove likes Guns N’ Roses and groupies for Axel Rose. Amazing.”

“I don’t hang out with Billy Hargrove, Eddie. Not like that, anyways.”

His nostrils flared and he nodded. “But you do hang out.”

“Maybe once or twice, I guess?” Your voice forms a question. You didn’t consider having a couple of the same friends and being at parties the other is at as ‘hanging out’. “What- What is this, Eddie? Why are you freaking out over Billy?”

“I’m not.” He said, blinking a couple times like he was trying to snap out of something. He leaned over your shoulder and grabbed the joint out the ashtray, lit it, and walked over to his cluttered table to search through a milk crate full of records. “Just figured the people you were talking about was him, s’all.”

“Eddie,” You said, coming up beside him to grab his wrist. He froze, his hands stopping their furious flipping of records, but his gaze stayed low. “I was fucking around, Eddie.”

“Fucking around?’

“Yes, Eddie. I was just joking.”

He turned to you at your words, staring dead into your eyes. The intensity of his stare made your heart stutter. “Were you trying to make me jealous?”

“Jealous? Wh- Eddie what the fuck are you talking about.”

There was a pregnant pause. Just you and Eddie staring into each other's eyes. Why would you want to make him jealous? You didn’t even know that was an option. You and Eddie were friends. Best friends. Friends don’t get jealous of their friends hanging out with other people. And Billy Hargrove? You had no idea where he pulled that one from. Not once had you ever even mentioned his name around Eddie. There was nothing worth mentioning. You thought Billy was stuck up and an absolute douchebag. Was he nice to look at? Sure. But you were nearly positive his heart was black with hatred and you believed being pretty meant nothing if your personality was shit.

“Uh, Eddie? Are you jealous?” He couldn’t look you in the eyes, instead he was flickering his gaze to anywhere but your face. “Eddie?”

“Would you hate me if I said yes?” He trailed his question off, biting at the skin on his lips as he waited for a response.

“I could never hate you, Eddie. You’re my best friend.”

He rolled his eyes. He rolled his fucking eyes. “Your best friend, right.” He said through a cloud of smoke. You snatched the joint sitting pretty between his fingers and dropped it in his other ashtray, the glass one shaped like a skull.

“Why are you saying it like that? You are my best friend.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be.” He said defiantly and your throat felt like it was going to close and your eyes burned from the prickle of your unshed tears welling in your eyes. He didn't want to be your best friend. Those words made you want to crawl into your body, to somehow vanish into thin air. Not too long ago you two were laughing together in the pool, discussing Steve Harrington's newest girl drama which was all supplied to you by Dustin Henderson. The night before you two made shitty Jiffy Pop while blazed out of your minds and sang karaoke so loud his neighbors came banging on the door, furious.

But now he didn’t want to be friends.

“Is this because I asked you to go on a roadtrip with me?” Your voice wavered and your chin started to tremble. “I know it was a bad idea.”

He strangely looked befuddled. “W-what? No. No, it’s not tha-”

“Well then what did I do?” You whined, tossing your hands about, unsure of what to do or what to say. What to think.

“You didn’t do-” He cut himself off, frustrated with his inability to explain himself. He looked at you, saw the tremble in your chin and shook his head. “You know what, fuck it.”

As soon as the words left his mouth he was surging forward, grasping your face in his hands, and pulling you towards him. His lips met yours with so much force you gasped, hands clutching his hips for purchase. You couldn’t form a single thought as you stood there, eyes squeezed shut, your chest so tight you couldn’t breathe. But then his hand smoothed over your cheek and grasped the back of your neck, his fingernails scraping over the sensitive skin there, and you finally kissed him back. Eddie moaned. The sound so loud it vibrated through your mouth and straight to the core of your being.

You kissed him with every ounce of power you had. Kissed him like you had daydreamed about so many times before as you watched him roll, or play guitar, or sing along to the radio as he drummed against the steering wheel. You kissed him for everytime he smiled and you felt your heart skip a beat. For every time he hugged you just because you looked like you needed one. For every smile he’d ever graced you with. You kissed him like you’d never kissed anyone before in your life, and it was messy and rough and probably looked horrific from a different point of view, but it felt perfect.

Eddie pulled away first, gasping for air in the crook of your neck, his body practically folded into you. “Fuck,” he drew out the word long enough to make you giggle, drunk off his lips.

“Eddie.” You soothed, combing your fingers through his hair. “Why don’t you wanna be my friend?”

He raised to his full height at your question. “Best friends can’t kiss like that.” He’s so out of breath, his words merely a whisper as he continued. “And every goddamn time I look at you all I wanna do is kiss your pretty fucking mouth.”

He left you speechless, looking up into his big brown eyes that you loved so much. He lets you take a second, think on it, all the while stroking his thumb across your cheek.

“How long?” Is all you can ask.

“Shit, since fucking middle school, baby.” He blushed as he said it, the pretty pink darkening to a cherry red as he watched your eyes widen in surprise.

“Middle school?” You whispered.

“I always have. But in middle school you showed up to the snowball in that cute purple dress with your hair all big and your makeup maybe a little too grown for a 12 year old and all I could think about was walking over and asking you to dance. Shit, I wanted to kiss your cheek so fucking bad.” You laughed at the way he scrunched his nose at the last part. You remembered middle school Eddie, his buzzed head and those horrible army green bell bottoms that he’d ripped up to look cool. You liked that Eddie as much as you liked this one, even back then.

“Why didn’t you?” You asked as you pushed up against his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist. In this position he had to look down his nose at you, his dark lashes fluttering across his cheeks.

“You were you and I was the freak.”

“I never thought that about you, Eddie.”

He sighed, kissing your forehead. “I didn’t know that then, baby.”

“Should have asked.” You teased, planting a kiss on his chest when he tried to act offended.

You two stood like that for a while, just wrapped up in each other, testing the waters of this new dynamic. One where you both knew where you stood with each other.

“I’m sorry I upset you earlier, you uh- you kinda surprised me.” He spoke into the crown of your head.

“It was a stupid idea, anyway.”

“No it’s not. I wanna go. I just don’t want to spend all your money doing it. Give me a couple months to save up and we can go.”

“I don’t care about the money, Eds.” You said as you took your head off his chest and gazed up at him.

“I know. Just give me a couple months, okay.”

“Okay, Eddie.”

Silence fell over the two of you. Eddie started swaying to the music at some point, humming along to a Black Sabbath song that was definitely not slow dance material. You kissed the tattoo on his chest as you swayed, looking up at him with your best version of puppy dog eyes.

“Hey, Eddie?” You asked softly. He hummed against you, kissing your forehead as he waited for you to finish your question. “Can you kiss me again?”

“Did you use my shampoo?”

Eddie’s voice raised up from the crease of your neck, a hint of amusement in his words. He had you laid out on his bed, slowly working kisses across your body. What had started as a soft little makeout session bloomed into something more when you had drug your nails up his spine the moment he found that sweet spot just behind your ear.

“Mhm.” You were too distracted to answer, focusing on the feel of his tongue laving against your neck and the way his hips shuddered against your clothed pussy every time you dug your nails into his skin.

“I like when you smell like me.” He mused. “Makes me feel like you’re mine.”

“M’yours, Eddie.” You whispered, guiding his face up to look at him. His lips were puffy and tinted red from sucking hickeys against your throat and his eyes were wide, searching your face for honesty.

“Promise?” He said after a quiet couple seconds and you nodded, leaning your head up to kiss the tip of his nose and the corner of his mouth.

“Promise.”

Eddie’s smile lit up his entire face, all dimpled and pink cheeked. It made your heart swell.

“Can I taste you?”

He asked in such a polite way, it caught you off guard. You couldn’t remember ever having a guy ask to eat you out. It was always something you hinted at and they brushed aside. One guy had even told you that eating a girl out made him soft and in the same breath forced your head down on his dick. But here was Eddie, looking at you so expectantly and yet so patiently.

“Yeah.”

Eddie didn’t waste a second getting to his knees on the mattress, fingers fumbling with the button of your shorts as he mumbled to himself. “Oh shit, okay. Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so fucking long, you don’t even understand. Pretty baby. So fucking pretty.”

You helped him shimmy the black fabric from your legs, Eddie tossing them over his shoulder with such force they knocked his acoustic guitar, that sat across from the bed, off its stand. He paid no attention to the instruments sharp bellow as it hit the carpet, instead he was transfixed on your purple lace panties.

“Christ.” He breathed, his index and middle finger tracing up the wet spot that had been steadily growing from the moment he kissed you. “You’re so wet.”

“Because of you.” You keened, Eddie suddenly adding more force in his stroking right against your clit. He flashed his eyes up to yours.

“Yeah?”

You nodded.

“Shit, I never thought I’d hear you say that outside of my dreams.” He seems to lose himself in his heavy caressing while you grip his sheets so hard your knuckles turn white.

“Eddie, please.” You couldn’t stop the whine that escaped your lips, dipping your fingers under the band of your panties and impatiently trying to take them off.

Eddie chuckled to himself as he watched you struggle. “Okay, okay. I’ve got you baby. Calm down.” He gave your panties the same treatment, peeling them down your thighs and tossing them over his shoulder. He bit his lip as he lowered his stomach to the bed, face to face with your weeping core. “So eager to be on my tongue, huh. Who woulda thought you’d be sobbing at the thought of me, The Freak, licking your sweet little pussy.”

“Eddie,” You were so touch starved, so desperate to feel his mouth on you, that you thought you might actually cry if he didn’t do something. “Shut the fuck up, please. Please. Just… Oh, Eddie, please.”

“Mm, okay.”

The second his warm tongue hit you, you cried out. Hands fumbling for purchase and finding it in his dark brown hair. You gripped the strands at the roots hard enough to hurt but Eddie only moaned and tightened his grip on your thighs, pulling them open even further to sink his tongue as far into your pussy as he could. His nose brushed against your swollen clit with each delve of his tongue, the muscle exploring every inch of your sensitive pussy. You trained your eyes on his nicotine stained ceiling, trying so hard to push back the fire rising in your stomach. You’d never felt anything like it before.

“That feels so fucking good, Eddie.” You loosened your grip on him to pet at his hair, unsure if it was to praise him or soothe yourself. Peeling your eyes from the ceiling you cast your hazy stare down only to find his big brown eyes watching you from between your thighs, mouth latched around your sensitive clit as he alternated from gentle sucks to fast flicks of his tongue. Your thighs burned as you rocked your hips against his face, fucking into his mouth for more friction, hands shaking against his cheeks. He looked so unbelievably pretty staring up at you with so much fondness and lust in his eyes, his mouth and tongue completely ravishing you like no man ever had before.. So you tell him…

“You’re so pretty like this, Eddie. You- oh fuuck- you’re always so pretty b-but-” You let out a wanton cry as Eddie slipped two fingers into your achy cunt. He finds that spot inside you that whitens your eyesight almost immediately, like he knew exactly where it was. Between his fingers and his devilish tongue you were seeing stars, tears slipping freely at how extreme the sensation was. “Oh god, Eddie. Eddie, I’m- I’m gonna-” You couldn’t even fucking speak anymore.

Eddie acknowledged you with a shuddering groan, quickening his movements to drive you over the precipice. His eyes never once leave your face.

You came with a small scream, hips arched off the bed, your fingernails leaving crescent moons into the skin of his wrist. The feeling was all consuming, overwhelming in all the best ways. You let out a sob as he eased you through it, rubbing your thighs comfortingly as they shook with fervor around his head. You could hear yourself speaking but it was muffled by the roaring in your ears; it sounded like you were speaking in tongues. Eddie heard every word.

“Ohgodohgodohgodohgod. Don’t stop, baby. Never fucking stop. So good, s-so fucking good. You’re so fucking good, Eddie. Oh my god, I love you.”

Eddie kissed your thighs as your orgasm faded, your burning lungs gasping for air. When you could finally breathe again, he left one last lingering kiss before crawling up your body. You held his face with shaking hands when he reached you, the biggest shit eating grin on his cum soaked face.

“You love me, huh?” He pondered with a fleeting kiss to your lips. “Or do you just love the way I eat your pussy?”

“Both you fucking deviant. Both.” Each inhale rattled in your chest and every exhale burned the lining of your throat. Eddie chuckled as he kissed you again, pressing his hard cock against your still sensitive core.

“Who knew you were a fucking screamer, baby.”

“I could tell you that was all you but then you’d fucking gloat about it for the rest of eternity.”

“Still might.” He hummed, ghosting kisses over your eyes and nose and lips. “You look so fucking hot when you cum. Never seen anything like it. Coulda cum right then and there but I wanna be inside you.”

You reached a hand between your bodies, running a heavy finger over the outline of his cock in his sweats. “Do you have a condom?” You asked, still a little breathless.

Eddie nodded excitedly before bounding up from the bed and over to his dresser. He rifled through it aggressively. Cursing here and there as he tossed socks and a random cassette tape onto the floor in his frenzied search. When he finally finds what he was looking for he exclaimed to himself, “Fucking finally.”.

He leaves the mess he made, struggling to pull his sweats and boxers off as he makes his way back over to you, sprawled out and butt naked in his bed. Once he finally gets there, after narrowly avoiding tripping over his own boots on the floor, he crawls on top of you with the aluminum wrapper between his teeth. You watched with bated breath as he ripped it open, rolling it down the dark pink head of his cock. Once he’s done he positioned himself in the apex of your thighs, fisting his cock and smoothing the latex covered head through your slick covered folds.

“I, uh, I’m probably not gonna last that long.” He said, his eyes downcast, watching the way your hips rutted into him with every swipe of his cock.

“It’s okay, Eds. Just fuck me.” You grabbed his chin, forcing his face up. When your eyes met you smiled at him sweetly and added, “Please.”

Eddie wasted no time pressing into you, his thick cock stretching you wide as he bottomed out inside you. His cheeks were flamed pink, a bead of sweat bleeding from his hairline down the curve of his nose. He pulled out gently and plunged back in, the tip of his tongue poking through his teeth as he concentrated on his slow deliberate thrusts. You dug your heels into the backs of his thighs, hoping he'd get the hint to go faster. Harder. The slow drag of his cock against that sweet spot inside of you was agonizing. But he only ignored your pressing and not so subtle whines, folding himself over top of you with one arm wrapped around your back and a callused hand holding your cheek. He was being so gentle. It wasn’t something you were used to. Every other guy you’d been with just used you to get off as fast as they could. But Eddie was taking his time, having found a pace that kept you needing more. You found yourself giggling at a particularly languid thrust and Eddie’s round eyes, with his pupils completely blown black, shot up to yours.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, stilling himself inside of you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just…” You giggled again and his eyes narrowed. “I just thought, who would have imagined you to be such a gentle lover. You know, with your bad boy–heavy metal image and all.”

“Don’t forget local drug dealer and devil worshiper.” His smile cracked wide as you giggled again. That giggle, however, turned into a sharp cry with a snap of his hips. “I can be gentle. When I want to be.”

You could only nod at this, your breath lodged in your throat at another hard snap of his hips. Your comment had urged him to go faster. To show you that, yes, he could be gentle. But he could also fuck you senseless.

“Imagine what they’d think of you, baby.” He whispered into your ear, forehead pressed hard to the side of your head, his hips building into a maddening pace. He had thrown your leg over his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper, to hit that spot inside your core that brought tears to your eyes. “You were always such a good girl. Hawkins number one girl. Do you even remember what they said when they found out we were friends?”

You shook your head, unable to speak with how hard and deliberate his thrusts were.

“They said I was corrupting you.” He released a breathy, dark laugh. His hand slotting through the strands of your hair to grip the roots. “But they didn’t know that you sought me out, hm. Followed me to the woods just so we could be alone. Made me laugh. Made me feel special.”

You remembered that day. Remembered watching him walk through the tree line all alone, that black metal lunch pail gripped tightly in his hand. You knew what he was doing, skipping class to go smoke up. You’d seen him do it before. But that day you followed after him, nervously gripping the ruched fabric of your cheer skirt as you went. You couldn’t help yourself, You wanted to know him so badly.

“Everyday after that, you found me.” His thrusts were starting to get sloppy and you could tell in the way he held you, in the way his words doubled as moans, that he was getting close. “I tried so hard to keep you from getting too close. People are shunned for being close to me. But you wouldn’t fucking quit. Always so fucking stubborn. It’s like you couldn’t stay away from me.”

“I couldn’t.” You cried out, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hair tickled your cheeks, his breath fanning over your lips as he held himself over you now. His brows furrowed in concentration as his cock throbbed inside of you. You clenched at the sight of him, looking so pretty and so fucked, and all yours. Because he was. He was it for you.

“Ah, shit.” He whimpered. He wouldn’t last much longer, but Eddie being who Eddie was, you knew he was gonna talk the whole way through it. “You fucking- You broke down every fucking wall I’d ever built. Smashed right fucking through them and straight into my fucking heart. I-I wanted to be good for you. Good enough that you’d want me like I wanted you. You corrupted me.”

“E-Eddie, I think I’m gonna c-cum.” That burning heat had returned but it was different this time. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the bottom of your toes. It thrummed every nerve like the string of a guitar, vibrating you to the bone.

“Good.” He said harshly, the word sounding almost mean falling from his red swollen lips, but the fingers stroking your face were still gentle. “I want you to scream for me again. I want everyone in this shitty trailer park, in this shitty fucking town, to know that I’m the one making you feel like this. Crying for my cock, desperate for me.”

You couldn’t handle it, couldn’t see through the tears falling, couldn’t feel anything but him and the white hot pleasure he was gifting to you. You were right there, so fucking close.

“I want them to know that you are mine.” Each word was punctuated with a hard, albeit sloppy, thrust and you came.

You came with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. You felt yourself clench down on him, hard, and his hips shuddered violently against you, succumbing to his own orgasm from your vise lock grip on his cock. He buried his face into the crook of your neck as he rocked his hips and moaned through it, your name and curses sounding like the sweetest song you’d ever heard.

“Jesus Christ.” He groaned before his body collapsed on top of yours. You could feel his thighs trembling against your own, mirroring the intensity of the feeling you both shared as you came.

The both of you laid there, shrouded in the warmth of each other's embrace, until finally he rolled away. Wincing as he pulled out and discarded the condom. You could only lay there and watch him rise from the bed on shaky legs to grab the half smoked joint from earlier. He placed it between his lips and lit it, standing there in all his naked glory, puffing on it till he could get a nice long hit. The slight skunky smell filled the room and you closed your eyes, relishing in it. But then, you were hit in the chest by something light and lacey.

“For your modesty.” Eddie smirked as you held your purple panties up in the light.

“Thanks.” You croaked, your voice hoarse and your throat sore.

Eddie crawled over you, flopping his sweaty body down next to yours. He handed you the joint, which you took gratefully, taking your own long drag and passing it back. The both of you laid in a comfortable silence, legs draped over each other and his fingers drawing lazy patterns on your bare thigh. But then something occurred to you and you turned your head to look at him.

“I didn’t corrupt you.” You said to him and he rolled his eyes, huffing out a laugh.

“Yes, you did.”

“No I did not, asshole.” You guffawed, slapping your hand playfully on his bare chest.

“I wear my seatbelt and listen to fucking Journey because of you. That’s corruption.” He teased with a cute little smirk, grabbing your thigh and squeezing the soft flesh there.

“That’s just safety and taste, baby. If you want me to corrupt you there are… different things I have in mind.” You watched his eyes widen and he laughed.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” He said as he leaned in, his lips tasted of you and the weed he had smoked and you smiled behind the kiss, chest full and body sore.

“Hey,” He started as he rested his head on your shoulder, gazing up at you like a little puppy. “You wanna go watch a movie? I can make some Jiffy Pop and we can cuddle on the couch?”

“Who’s picking the movie?” You asked, fingers playing with the ends of his hair.

“I had Steve score me a copy of Poltergeist 2. Picked it up from Family Video while you were at the store earlier.”

You sat up a little, an incredulous look etched into your features while he gave you those damn puppy eyes.

“Eddie, you literally told me two weeks ago that you'd rather be decapitated than watch that movie."

Eddie only shrugged, that casual slouch of his shoulder that you had become so accustomed to, and offered you a pretty smile.

“I would. But you wanted to see it. I'll suck it up, but only for you."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #stranger things fan fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic

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stevesbipanic · 2 months

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@steddielovemonth Day 29: Love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy @forgottenkanji

Eddie knew a lot of things about Steve. He knew he loved peonies more than roses and listened to folk music when he cooked. He knew he loved sledding in the winter and lake days in the summer. He knew every step of his hair care routine and loved head scratches the most. Above all he knew Steve loved Valentine's Day.

He remembered how Steve would always make sure every girl got at least one rose delivered to them in home room and loved decorating his locker. Always wrote his classmates cards to fill their love boxes and made sure the kids got plenty of chocolate. Watched some special girl get taken on a perfect date each year, wishing for a world it could be him.

He remembers there being no dates last year, Steve looking as forlorn as him. He would find out a couple months later it's because the golden boy had been harbouring an equally massive crush and they promptly got together.

Now this year he vowed to go all out for his sweet boyfriend and give him the Valentine's Day he deserved.

"Eddie you hate Valentine's Day."

"You said it was capitalist bullshit."

"You literally burnt a bouquet once."

Eddie glared at the other Hellfire boys, he'd asked them to the diner to help him plan the best day ever not be attacked.

"That was the old Eddie, a sad gay little teenager, adult Eddie has the prettiest boy in the world to please."

Jeff was looking at him fondly while Grant rolled his eyes and Gareth gagged.

"EW don't call my cousin pretty!"

"We literally perform a song where I do just that."

"GOLDEN GODDESS IS ABOUT STEVE!"

"Hush, Garebear, we have plans to make."

The plan began simple, Robin was to take Steve out for breakfast, well, Steve take her out after she begs. Convincing Robin of the plan was easy since she loves Steve and free food as much as Eddie.

Then, while the boys set up the final surprise, Eddie would meet up with Steve at the arcade with the kids.

"Can't wait til we're home and alone, Eds, nice to have someone on Valentine's Day again."

"Just you wait, sweetheart."

Max would then radio Steve asking him to drive her to the movies for her date (although she was refusing to call it that again) with Lucas. She was also easy to convince, liking free rides.

Eddie would quickly change and rush to Steve's apartment to make dinner, he'd told Max to delay getting ready til Steve got there to stall him. He figured he'd have just enough time before-

Eddie was only halfway through making dinner before he heard the keys in the lock. No, Steve was home early, the candles weren't even lit yet!

"Eddie?"

He felt caught and dejected, all his plans falling through his fingers.

Steve glanced around the apartment, rose petals and unlit candles and the dining table set for two with a bouquet of peonies in a vase. Steve's favourite, spaghetti bubbling away behind Eddie.

"Eds, did you do all this for me?"

There's a certain awe in his voice as he asks. Eddie turns, turning down the heat on the pot and steps towards Steve. He takes his boy's hands gazing at him softly, "Of course, sweetheart, you love Valentine's Day. You're always so busy making it special for everyone else, and you missed last year, I wanted you to get wooed for once."

Steve's eyes are a little misty but he's smiling so Eddie knows he's not upset, "You got home early tho, baby, I haven't even lit the candles or turned on the music," Eddie explained biting his lip softly.

"I'm guessing Max was meant to keep me busy? You didn't tell Sinclair and his mom picked her up," Steve laughed.

"Shit, I knew I forgot something."

Steve kissed his cheek, "I'm going to get changed, think that'll be enough time for you?"

"Knowing you'll take forever with your hair, yeah I'll be ready, angel."

Steve flicked him playfully, "Oi, you love my hair."

Eddie yelped but smiled coyly, "Love messing it up too," he said winking.

Steve blushed and went to his bedroom to change. Eddie quickly finished the food, turned on the radio and lit the candles hoping it all set a romantic mood. Like clockwork he plated the food just as Steve returned to the room.

"Smells delicious, baby, you made my favourite!"

Eddie helped him into his chair, playing up the gentlemen's act, "Anything for you, sunshine." He poured them wine and laughed together as Eddie explained the whole plan, including Gareth's protest which Steve's giggled at. They were now cuddled on the couch, not really watching the movie, more just looking at each other occasionally trading soft kisses.

"Thank you for today, Eds, it really means a lot."

"I want to make every day special for you, Stevie."

"I wanted to ask you something, was going to ask on our anniversary but no-one has ever seen me the way you do."

"You know you can ask me anything, love."

Steve took Eddie's hand, glancing down and playing with his rings, a habit Eddie knew he did when he was nervous, "I wanted to ask if you wanted to move in with me?"

A smile quickly crept across Eddie's face, thought about getting to come home everyday to Steve and wake up every morning to him. Thought about how home had become the boy sitting across from him, wherever he went Eddie always wanted to follow.

"I'd love to move in with you, Stevie."

Neither boy would ever have to spend another day, Valentine's or not, not feeling completely and utterly loved ever again.

#had to end love month with a big fluff piece #ty sandy for running this awesome event #cant wait for the next month challenge #might even be doing one of my own 👀#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #ficlet #fluff #valentines day #end of love month means end of summer for me here in aus

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nburkhardt · 10 months

Text

Of Scissors & Wild Curls

Trying to beat out my writers block by writing an au troupe I absolutely love reading and haven’t written before. Just a heads up, it’s in modern times just so I don’t have to worry about being accurate to anything in the 80s ✌️ (this was stated on June 16th, when I started it)

anyway enjoy!

It’s the worst day of his entire life.

Right now. This is absolutely the day to end all bad days. It’ll be in his autobiography, it’ll be written in news articles and maybe a movie someday.

He wants to die a million deaths, truly.

It’s The Worst.

…. Or he might be exaggerating a bit. Just a little. Really, it’s not the end of the world.

This time at least.

Look, he’s had a long ass week and had a fight with some idiot taking pictures of him absolutely not falling on his ass. And the record label just told him that they need at least another album before letting the band take a much needed break.

Also, if he’s being truthful here, his writers block is a killer.

There’s a wall just planted in his brain, cutting off any and all lyrics the band needs for another fucking album.

Where was he again? Oh, worst day of his life.

“We’re going to stop in the next town, maybe we can find a place to- help?”

He groans and throws his head back, looking over at Gareth, “dude, my hair is a fucking disaster. There’s no helping that!”

Gareth crosses his arms with a deadpan look, “Ed, I think you’re overreacting a little. It’s just a little piece of gum! It’s not even that far in your hair, maybe this can be a little-“

“Don’t say it!”

“-trim”

He glares at him, “a little trim? This piece of shit is near my goddamn neck, Gare! I CAN FEEL IT! That fucking asshole did it on purpose too, I just know it!”

There’s a little five foot asshole out in the world, that’s his number one enemy now. Slapping him on the back with a “great show, my man!” Before walking away with a snicker. At the moment he didn’t think anything of it, too busy focusing on the fans around him trying to get his attention. His adrenaline and energy buzzing too much to realize something off with that guy.

He didn’t even notice it, it was a goddamn fan to point it out. Because they felt it when they took a picture together.

See? Worst day ever.

Right now they’re in the bus already moving onto the next city for the next concert. He isn’t even sure what’s the next one, all he knows is his hair has fucking gum in it and it’s the worst thing to ever happen to him.

“I still think you’re overreacting just a little, look, maybe there’s a way to get it out without cutting anything. We just have to find a place, there’s a two day break before the next concert. Ok?” Gareth pulls his hands away from his face, “Chris even told our driver to be on the lookout for places already.”

Sighing, he leans back and looks at his best friend, “I guess you’re right”

“I’m always right, dude.”

Rolling his eyes, he gets up and decides to take a nap face down because there’s no way he’s making it worse and getting stuck to his sheets.

Okay so, he’s overreacting a little bit. But he’s been growing his hair out for years now. It’s the perfect length and just wild enough that everyone knows him just by the hair.

It’s his thing, okay?!

A phone is slammed down and he flinches before looking towards the front, “did the phone kill your dog? Or was that-“

Robin whipped her head around a pinched look on her face, “that was goddamn Fran asking for a perm, I swear to god I don’t know how you deal with her! She actually had the nerve to praise you about letting her go so long without paying! She’s scheduled for Friday, because and I quote ‘my hair is straight as a needle’ she doesn’t do shit with her hair, Steve!”

He shakes his head and grabs his water before walking towards her, “Truthfully? I kinda zone out when I’m working on her hair.”

Robin blinked at him before she burst out laughing.

Being one of the only hair salons in their tiny town has some benefits, which is taking some customers that only pay after ranking up to nearly $300. That and he can hire anyone he wants and having a crew of just their friends is a perfect way to deal with the few crazy customers they get.

Oh, and he gets to hang out with them all the time while doing something he actually loves.

When he decided to go to cosmetology school instead of whatever place his dad wanted, he didn’t think he’d end up here. Honestly. His mom told him there was a chance it would go no where, that it’ll just be another thing to add to his list of hobbies.

Baseball, basketball, swimming, drawing and lastly cutting hair.

According to his dad, all of that was pointless. Well, not basketball. To his mom, it just made him look good for future partners. Thankfully their opinions don’t matter to him much anymore, they’re long gone from this tiny town and he’s twenty five now.

Really, he doesn’t need their support or opinions anymore.

“Woah! Dingus come here!” Robin calls out without needing to, the shop is small and he’s just at his station, “there’s your dorky kids jumping around like actual kids”

Rolling his eyes, he stands next to her to find that; yes across the street is the kids- now teenagers jumping around some parked bus. He can’t quite make out what’s on the bus, his vision is shit with letters even with his contacts in. Whatever they’re excited about is probably related to their dragons game.

So definitely nothing he’d understand. Right?

His attention is drawn away from the teens because of the door opening, he spins around with a smile already on his face. “Hello, do you have an appointment today?”

Standing half way in the door is a tiny blonde with a high pony tail and clearly not from around here. He pretty much knows everyone in Hawkins, or at least he knows everyone that comes into his shop.

This person definitely hasn’t been in before, she is adorable though. Totally Robin’s type, actually. Glancing at his best friend, and yep, there’s already hearts in her eyes.

“Hi! No, actually I wanted to see if you did have any openings?” Tiny Blonde smiles and he can see her glance at Robin, “either of you?”

If he could, he’d totally leave Robin to handle this by herself. It’d be pay back for when she ditched him at the bar a few weeks ago, but he’s not that petty. “Technically she can’t cut or color anyone’s hair, but I’m free later. I got a person coming in like twenty minutes. What did you-“

“Actually, it’s for a friend of mine!” She shakes her head and pulls her phone out, glancing at it and typing something quickly before looking back at him, “Can you do like a quick, consult maybe? Not like now, but later?”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Robin nod her head as if she’s the one going to do it. Rolling his eyes he smiles and moves to the appointment book, taking a quick glance he can technically squeeze in something. “Just a consult?”

“Maybe a trim if all goes well, we could even come in tomorrow if you can’t today. We did just get into town, I’m sure my friend will understand if you can’t” her phone beeps and he can’t tell but it seems like she’s grimacing at whatever was sent, “or maybe you know another place?”

Technically he could send them somewhere else, but he’s curious plus from the glare he can feel from Robin- he glances at her and yep, she’s glaring a hole in his head.

He doesn’t need to ask her that she wants this pretty blonde to come back.

“Nah, you can come back at four. We can chat and figure out what needs or can be done.“ he smiles at her before handing over an appointment card, “I’m Steve, by the way. That’s Robin”

She takes the card with a smile, “Oh! I’m Chrissy, you don’t realize how much this will make my friend’s day. We’ll see you then, it’ll just be you two, right?”

“Yep! See you in a few hours!” Chrissy flashed a bright smile at him then Robin before opening the door and walking away.

He doesn’t even bother looking towards Robin to tell her, “You’ve got it bad”

There’s a loud shriek and then a laugh as Chrissy walks away. She smiles before looking down at her phone to text the good news.

‘Best news of your life right now, four o’clock. Dummy’

‘THANK YOU ❤️🖤’

It’s inching closer and closer to four and Steve isn’t sure if Chrissy just forgot or that her friend decided it wasn’t worth it. Either way, he’s going to clean up now because it’s been a long day and all he wants now is to drink some wine while relaxing on his couch.

He’s listening to Robin vent from across the salon, while cleaning the mirrors. “Despite how pretty she is, if they don’t show up soon I’m closing this place up!”

“It’s not even officially four yet, Robs.” He laughs and turns away from his mirror to clean the chair, “we have like five minutes before we give up on it.”

Robin let’s out a groan, spinning around to point at him with a glare, “It’s Friday night and I have plans, Steven!”

“I hope these plans don’t involve me, Robin. I have to be in here at fucking eight in the morning, I’d like to get at least five hours of sleep” he glares over at her, “the last time we went out and I had to work in the morning, I almost didn’t make it in”

Because of Robin’s loud laughter he nearly misses the door opening, he bounces up with a smile, “hi can I- Chrissy!”

Standing by the front desk is of course, Chrissy along with her is a tall guy with long wild curls standing next to her. He has a pair of sunglasses on and his hands shoved into the leather jacket he has on.

“Hi guys, sorry we didn’t get here sooner there was a crowd and this one couldn’t get passed it withou- ow! Eddie!” She glared at the man, Eddie apparently, and rubbing her arm.

It’s confusing but he’s not going to question it, his relationship with Robin is weird, probably weirder actually. So instead of questioning that he moves closer, “it’s fine, we were just cleaning up real quick. We said just a consult right or did you figure out what you wanted?”

Wordlessly, the two of a conversation right there. Hand movements, head nods and shakes before there’s a bright satisfied smile on Chrissy’s face appears. Eddie looks not upset per-say but definitely like he lost whatever was said in their conversation.

“Yep! He’ll do a trim, but there’s a little problem. You see, someone decided to put gum on his back and-”

Robin’s laughing again while he’s just horrified for Eddie. He can’t help but feel bad for the hair, well, maybe Eddie too. But he hasn’t said a word to them yet, still standing there with his glasses on and now crossing his arms with what looks like a pout on his face. Chrissy’s still talking about the gum and how it’s ruined Eddie’s day and they couldn’t figure out any other way to get it out.

He shakes his head, moving towards his chair and patting it, “well, I can’t figure anything out until you’re sitting in the chair and I get a closer look at the hair”

Eddie looks between the chair and Chrissy, before moving towards him and sitting in the chair. Sunglasses still on his face, a pout very much there as well. Up close, his hair is even more wild than he originally thought. The curls are a mess, that’s clear as he sticks his hand to figure out how much the gum is stuck.

It’s not too terrible, definitely bad but not enough where if he does cut it out, the hair wouldn’t be much different.

There is however, the fact that this guy is clearly not taking proper care of his hair. For as wild as it is, the curls are frizzy and not defined.

“Good news, I could cut the gum out and you’re hair won’t lose too much length or I could also try getting it out using some oil without taking scissors to your hair.”

“And the bad news?”

“You’re not taking proper care of your hair, these curls could be so much more”

He hears Chrissy let out a giggle and Robin’s definitely laughing with her, but his gaze is on Eddie, who’s mouth drops and nearly rips the glasses off to show that his eyes are wide with shock.

Steve can’t help himself, he smiles and lets his own little giggle out.

Eddie looks absolutely ridiculous and Steve might know him, like, at all. But he’s definitely someone he’d like to know eventually, being this dramatic over a little comment? That’s someone worth knowing, he thinks.

———

Ending it there lol.

Wanna know what’s funny? I started this to get out of my writers block and ended up getting it WITH THIS.

So I used wip wednesdays/weekends to push myself along and finally after also talking with @i-less-than-three-you & @strangersteddierthings I’ve decided to make this a two parter! I get to share what I already wrote AND give myself a way to write them actually getting together.

I also wanna shout out @artiststarme for helping me a bit too! They gave me a few suggestions and helped out so thank you to all three of them 🩷 you all are amazing and I love you!!

Tag list! (If you’d like to be added let me know)

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you

@yikes-a-bee @sc00ps-ahoy @geekymagicalpotato @thesuninyaface @penny00dreadful

PS: if you made it this far you get to know that the thing with someone not paying until the bill is up to $300 is a true fucking story. There’s a lady that comes into my work (a hair salon btw) and gets away with coming in for a hair wash or color or perms and doesn’t pay! Idk why my boss continues letting her do this but she does 🤷‍♀️

#steddie #steddie fic #implied buckingham #nburkhardt writes #hair salon meet #steve harrington x eddie munson #rockstar Eddie Munson #hair stylist Steve Harrington #platonic stobin #platonic hellcheer #corroded coffin #stranger things fic

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billys-pretty-babe · 29 days

Note

I need more of your dad Billy! You write him so well and there isn’t enough of it on here!!

i have so much dad!billy to share with you and everyone else. i hope you like this 💙

A Day with the Hargrove Family

Pairing : Dad!Billy Hargrove x Mom!Fem!Reader

Summary : A glimpse in the life of our favorite family 💙

Warnings : Swearing, implied smut at the end

A/N : Hannah is four, Billy and Reader are 22

June 1, 1989

You sat up in the King bed, holding your newest addition, William, to your chest. He was the perfect mixture of you and Billy. Billy did his hair at your vanity and you watched him getting ready for the day. Hannah burst into the room, the door slamming against the wall. Billy glanced at her in the mirror, "H, easy baby." She nodded, running over to where he was.

He picked her up, groaning a little. "You're getting too big for me to carry you, H." She pouted, "Nuh uh," she mumbled. He laughed, kissing the top of her head. "Let's tame that mane," he said as he grabbed the brush. He began brushing her hair and you noticed the way he was doing her hair.

"Billy," you laughed, "stop making my baby look like you." He laughed, turning them both to you, his cheek pressed against hers. "Your baby? It looks like I birthed her, you had no part in this. Like a seahorse or whatever the fuck gives birth as a guy. I think it's a seahorse." You laughed, rolling your eyes and shaking your head.

He grabbed the white box with her silver hoops and he gently put them on her, "There, Daddy's mini-me," he said, turning her to you. Her hair looked just like his and they had the same silver hoops on. He picked her up, plopping her on the bed beside you as he walked into the closet, picking out his outfit.

Hannah looked at William, gently petting his head and you laughed. "Make sure you're easy, Hannah. He's a baby." She nodded, leaning down and kissing the top of his head. "How are babies made," she asked. Billy cackled from the closet, walking out in jeans and a white tank top, his tattoos on display. His chest tattoo could be seen under the see through material, William and Hannah's names on his left pec and your initials were on his ring finger.

"Well, when mommies and daddies really love each other, a baby just appears. Do you remember how the stork brought Dumbo to the mommy elephant in Dumbo?" Hannah nodded, looking at Billy. "That's how William came, except the stork put him in mommy's belly and he grew in there." She hummed, nodding. He looked at you, winking.

"I think the stork needs to make another visit." You shook your head quickly, "Hell no, the stork died." He laughed, putting his head on your thigh as he ran his thumb under William's foot, seeing his little toes curl around his thumb and he smiled.

"Max is gonna stop by with Lucas to give stuff to the kids." You nodded, moving William to your other arm. He was nearly seven months old and was already the biggest momma's boy. He cried every time someone that wasn't you or Billy held him or tried to play with him. He only let you feed him, whether it was from his bottle or from the baby food that you had started giving him.

"Here, let me take him, mama," Billy said, gently taking William and laying him on his chest. William grabbed two fistfuls of Billy's tank top and Billy rubbed his back. You loved the way Billy was with your guys' babies, he was so gentle with them and was a lot less reckless.

He had straightened up the moment you took the test when the two of you were seventeen, he still cracked jokes here and there about how the condoms in sex ed didn't last the two of you, but he was everything that Neil said he'd never be.

"What're you thinking about," Billy asked you as he looked up, pushing his finger against the tip of your nose. You scrunched it and he laughed. "Nothing, just reminiscing, I guess." He nodded, "Tell me about it." You laughed, pulling Hannah into your lap as she smiled, cuddling against you, resting her head on your chest and you kissed the top of her head.

"Just everything from high school. You changed a lot, personality wise." He nodded, "So did you, you were this real shy girl. Just the mention of sex and you were squirming," he reached over, putting his hands over Hannah's ears as she giggled, "and now we're fucking every night." Your jaw dropped as you pushed his forehead and he laughed, taking his hands off of Hannah's ears.

"You can't say that stuff around our kids." He shrugged, looking at Hannah. "Did you hear what I said?" She shook her head, "Just heard you laugh." He nodded, glancing at you, "See, she doesn't even know what that stuff is anyways." He looked down at William, "Hey little man," he cooed as he stretched on Billy's chest.

William moved a little, so he was facing you, a gummy smile on his face as he did his best to wave, laughing at himself. You smiled, reached forward and gently rubbed his cheek as his eyes fluttered shut, and he snuggled back up to Billy. "All you do is sleep," Billy said, patting William's back.

William babbled, his face screwing up and Billy laughed, "He has your attitude already." You grumbled and he laughed, "You both make the same face." He gently turned William to you and you laughed, seeing your exact face and William burst into laughter when he heard you laugh.

Hannah cuddled closer to you and you smiled, rubbing her back. Billy lifted William up carefully, placing him right above his face as he kissed his cheek and William laughed again, his body shaking as he laughed and Billy laughed, placing William on the bed as he leaned over him, gently tickling his stomach and his neck.

The room was filled with your son's laughter as Hannah laughed at him. Billy's head snapped to where the two of you were as he snatched Hannah away from you, laying her next to William as he tickled the both of them.

You smiled, watching the way Billy interacted with the kids, you felt like every single day you fell in love with him all over again. He looked over at you, smiling, his smile reaching his eyes. "I love you so much," he said, his voice holding truth in it. You smiled, "I love you too, B." He smiled, picking up Hannah as she began to yawn.

He looked at his wristwatch, "Alright, nap time sweet baby, then we'll go out and get some stuff for your room." She nodded and he left the room, taking her to her room down the hallway. He came back, picking up William as he bounced him in his arms, leaving the room with him and Billy came back empty-handed.

"Alright, kids are put up." You laughed, "The stork is dead, no more babies." He laughed, shutting the bedroom door and laying on the bed with you, pulling you close to him as the two of you cuddled. "Thank you." You hummed, "For what?" He smiled, running his knuckle down the side of your face, "For them, H might not have been planned but she turned my world upside down, and for the better." You smiled, running your fingers through his hair, "Maybe the stork isn't dead." He laughed, rolling so he was on top of you and he kissed you.

"Gonna have a little army of Hargrove babies," he said against your lips. You laughed, gently pushing him away, "Little blonde babies with their aviators." He cheered, "We know my genes are strongest, look at Hannah. William favors you a little more but still has my hair and my eyes."

You laughed, "We are not having an army of Hargrove babies, my cut off is four." He shrugged, "Then four it is let's go ahead and give that stork a call, huh?" And that's exactly what he did, knocking the two of you out after an hour and a half

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x female reader #stranger things billy #william hargrove #billy stranger things #billy hargrove x f!reader #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargove imagine #dad!billy hargrove #mom!reader

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ladykailitha · 5 months

Text

Royal Pain Part 28

Hello! This is the last chapter before the epilogue. I'm so grateful for everyone who's still reading this little big story. Longest thing I've ever written. It caps out at nearly 60k words. I want to thank the people who have been reading this since day one and all the people that joined us for the ride along the way.

I love reading your comments and theories. I especially loved reading the freak outs over cliffhangers and the abuse I piled on our poor boys. But I am a sucker for happy endings.

Also a little treat for @goodolefashionedloverboi who wanted this way back in part 21.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15 Pt 16 Pt 17 Pt 18 Pt 19 Pt 20 Pt 21 Meta Pt 22 Pt 23 Pt 24 Pt 25 Pt 26 Pt 27

***

“Steve!” Robin called out. “Your boyfriend is here!”

Steve came running out of the back room. His grin nearly split his face in two.

He lifted Eddie up and spun him around. Eddie laughed out loud.

“Put me down, you menace!” Eddie said between gasps of giggles.

Steve gently put him down. And then kissed him right in front of Robin.

Who promptly fake gagged.

“Shush you,” Steve said. “You should be grateful I didn’t let him keep me in bed this morning.”

Robin gasped. “Betrayal! And in front of my coffee no less!” She covered her coffee with her hands as if to shield it from the scene in front of her.

Eddie laughed. “Sorry there Birdie, it was a very near thing. I had to be bribed!”

She shook her head. “Go on, get! Before you ruin my coffee with your sugary sweetness.”

Steve and Eddie just smiled and walked back to Steve’s room, hands in each other’s back pockets.

Once they got to the room, Eddie was all over Steve. Hands tangled in his hair, lips on that perfect mouth. Gripping the back of Eddie’s shirt was all he could do to keep upright.

“Baby,” Eddie whined when they finally broke apart. “I missed you so much. I promise to never leave you like that again.”

Steve nuzzled their noses together and sighed happily. “I know, Eds. I missed you too.”

Eddie stepped back to take off his shirt and Steve scanned over the expanse of his chest.

Eddie caught the look and grinned. “No new tattoos, sweetheart. I don’t trust anyone else but you.”

Steve blushed. “That’s nice to hear, beautiful. But I was just ogling my boyfriend.”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, okay that’s fair.” He walked over the chair and straddled it, resting his head on his folded arms.

“Let’s get this bad boy done, shall we?” Steve sighed happily.

“Sure thing, darlin’,” Eddie murmured. “Can’t wait.”

Steve started up his gun and got to work. All the while they chatted about the lighter stuff of the last three weeks. Eddie caught up on all the shop gossip.

“Honestly,” Steve said, “if Robin doesn’t pick soon, she’s going to be in the world’s most awkward polycule.”

Eddie laughed. “She’ll figure it out. But I guess Birdie really has a thing for redheads.”

Steve chuckled too. “Oh, yeah. Pretty much always had. Except once with Nancy back in high school. But that was more a ‘everyone had a crush on Nancy’ thing then a specific crush.”

Eddie hummed. “You said you had a thing for curly haired smart people with soulful eyes. You were talking about me too, right?”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Oh yeah. I’m not a subtle person when it comes to my crushes. Pretty much everyone figures it out before I do. Except in your case. I’ve had a crush on you since high school.”

“Me too, Stevie.”

“It’s about time we got our heads out of our asses, then.”

Eddie murmured his agreement and they settled into a comfortable silence.

Robin was still going to kick Eddie’s ass for making Steve sad for two weeks, but after hearing it from him how much he hated touring and how much he missed Steve, she forgave him for the most part. He sounded like he had been more miserable than Steve and that was honestly saying something.

So she went to Corroded Coffin’s return concert at the Nightmare Holes and cheered loudly for them.

She also knew she had to chose between Chrissy and Vickie soon otherwise they were going to have a cat fight.

But Robin didn’t want to chose. She liked the attention from both girls plus it would be super awkward if she chose Vickie and Chrissy stayed at the shop. But it would also be awkward working with Vickie at the front desk if she picked Chrissy.

It was a mess.

But then a lightbulb dawned over her head. Maybe she didn’t have to chose.

She spoke to them on their way to the club and ended up dancing with both of them all night.

Steve waved at the rest of the band as Eddie dragged him to his car, eager to get back to Steve’s apartment.

Steve laughed as Eddie shoved him into the passenger seat of his own car and got in the driver’s seat.

“Someone’s in a hurry there,” Steve teased.

“Stevie darling,” Eddie said. “I am vibrating out of my skin here with anticipation and if I don’t see that tattoo of yours soon, I’m might go absolutely feral. Do you understand?”

He laughed. “Yeah, baby, I hear you.”

Eddie breathed out and drove to the apartment. They walked up the stairs and once the door was closed behind they were all over each other. Hands and mouths all over as they tumbled onto the sofa.

Shirts were the first to fly, Steve careful with Eddie’s still healing tattoo.

“Baby,” Eddie whined. “Is your tattoo healed?”

Steve wiggled underneath him. “For the most part, it’s been about two weeks.”

Eddie let out another whine. “This won’t hurt you?”

Steve shook his head. “The scab is already gone. I heal fast.”

Eddie undid Steve’s jeans and slid them down his legs. He looked up at Steve for permission for the final layer of clothes to be removed. Steve nodded and lifted his hips for Eddie to slide off his underwear.

Eddie gasped when he saw it.

His thumb gently rubbed over the tattoo. It wasn’t very large, about the size of a half dollar. It was a simple heart with bat wings and a little crown.

“Baby, is this us?” he asked, breathless.

Steve nodded. “Yeah, do you like it?”

“I love it, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered. “And when my back is done, I am going to get it done on me, too.”

Steve’s eyes glistened with happy tears. “Okay, yeah. Suddenly I need that.”

Eddie kissed him deeply. “Me, too. I need you so much.”

They got Eddie’s pants and underwear off and Steve moaned at the long, graceful lines of his boyfriend’s lean body.

“Fuck, Eds,” Steve murmured. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

Eddie threw his head back and moaned. They had to be careful with Eddie’s still healing back, but they managed to make do and had a great time.

Once they had cleaned up and dressed, Steve began making dinner.

“So how did your meeting with Murray Bauman go?” he asked as he fried up the chicken for fajitas.

“It went great,” Eddie said. “Cec is still going to bring the contract to one of his law professors to make sure he didn’t miss any hidden bullshit, but yeah. It seems like Corroded Coffin is going to make an EP.”

Steve hummed. “And that different than a full record, right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, nodding. “It’s about five songs. But it’s what most new artists get. The record company doesn’t want to spend a boat load of money on an LP only for the band to not go anywhere.”

“That makes sense,” Steve murmured. “And you guys are going to keep working at the Nightmare Holes?”

Eddie nodded again. “Yeah, and if the record hits big, we can renegotiate our contract with Rick to get more money each week.”

“That’s great,” Steve said with a smile.

“And you and your genius schedule is going to work out great,” Eddie said with an answering grin. “They’ll even send a car for us every time, too.”

“Wow,” Steve said. “That’s awesome. Looks like I’m going have a rockstar boyfriend.”

“A perfect compliment to my tattoo artist boyfriend.”

Steve came over to where Eddie was seated at the table to kiss him. “Perfect indeed.”

They had dinner and sat down to watch a movie. They curled up on the sofa and just enjoyed each other’s company. Like they had so many times before.

Other than the sex, they were still Eddie and Steve. They still enjoyed the same movies, food, and music that they did before they got together.

They were just finally on the same page.

Once the movie was over, Eddie pulled out his guitar.

“You ready for this, baby?” he asked as Steve turned to face him on the couch.

Eddie played the first song he wrote on the road, the one that made Jeff and the others cry.

Tears streamed down Steve’s cheeks, too. “I’m sorry you were so lonely, Eds. I’m glad you’re home now.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” he murmured. “But I think you’ll like this one more.”

And he play the most beautiful, heart-stoppingly romantic song Steve had ever heard and it was for him. About them. And he was crying for a completely different reason now.

“Sunshine,” Steve said through his tears. “That was amazing. They both were. Thank you for sharing them with me.”

Eddie kissed him fiercely over the guitar. “Just you wait, Stevie. You’re going to get a life time of sappy love songs.”

“And I’ll cherish every single one.”

They got ready for bed and snuggled up together, falling asleep in each other’s arms.

The next morning led to morning sex, showers, and breakfast, never too far apart.

They were getting ready for a walk in the park when they got to witness a Robin Buckley walk of shame.

She opened the door and jumped when she saw them. “Shit!”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance.

“And what time do you call this, young lady,” Eddie teased.

Robin blushed all the way to her roots. She pulled out her phone. “Uh...11:13am?”

Eddie cackled as Steve grinned.

“And which lovely lady did you go home with last night?” Steve asked.

Robin’s blush deepened. “Both?”

Eddie and Steve glanced at each other again.

“You want to repeat that?” Eddie asked.

She shrugged. “I couldn’t decide. And Chrissy had hit on Vickie before, which lead to us talking to Vickie and once it was made clear that it wasn’t just a one time threesome she decided she was down for poly relationship.”

Eddie and Steve both held up their fists for her to bump and she fist bumped them both at the same time.

“You go girl!” Eddie crowed.

“Hell, yeah, Robs,” Steve said. “That’s awesome!”

“Where are you two love birds going?” Robin asked.

“Just for a walk in the park.”

“Have fun.”

***

Epilogue

Tag list: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @bookworm0690 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @aizawa-emma @yikes-a-bee @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @archermightbegay @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat @nightmareglitter @tinyplanet95 @novelnovella @jonesn4coffee @slowandsteddie @awkwardgravity1 @steaddie-on

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #tattoo artist steve

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dinodinodin0 · 2 years

Text

Time to Get to Know Yourself

Pairing: Eddie Munson x bestfriend!reader

Warnings: angst, slight mentions of being cross-faded, fem!reader

part one part two part three - Part four of the The other woman series part five

You brought your fist to the door, and knock.

it opened.

"y/n?"

it was Eddie. he looked as surprised as you were worried, while his eyes were dark. they seemed, deeper. as if a million thoughts were bouncing around in his head before you'd knocked on his door.

were there even more now?

"hey.. I.. well I wanted to apologize… for last night. I'm not sure what exactly I said, but I know the gist and.. I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have blown you off," you say, eyes darting everywhere but his eyes, fiddling with your hands.

"It's.. okay. I mean I wish you told me all of that when you weren't cross-faded out of your mind," he chuckled, ruffling your hair.

you look up at him, "can I come in?"

he nods and lets you pass. you plopped down on his couch and sighed, the air feeling thick as a layer of tension filled his trailer. he sat down next to you, twisting his rings deep in thought.

you speak, attempting to alleviate some tension, "so where's Wayne? isn't he still on the night shift?"

"yeah, he's actually hanging out at the bar with his friends right now. I'm glad because he would have had my head if he saw me skipping again. just.. needed to think somewhere where Dustin isn't going on and on about his nerd stuff- as admittedly cool as it is - and mike isn't being a total dickhead preteen," he jokes, staring into your eyes.

you watch as his expression softens for a second, before looking away and tensing up again. you've never seen him so preoccupied with something, apart from his campaigns. and this was a different concern.

you noticed how much his leg was bouncing, aswell.

"Can I ask.. what's got you thinking? like.. if it's something I had said to you?"

he bites his lip, assessing. he nods solemnly and begins to speak hesitantly.

"you.. you don't think I hate you right?" he says, brown eyes staring up at you needily. he looked genuinely worried about it, like it had been on his mind since last night. he looked like he desperately needed an answer, whether yes or no.

"no. I mean.. I don't think you hate me. I've just.. had some things I've been thinking about for a while," you sigh, slightly ashamed. you were ashamed you had them for so long but ashamed you blew up on him while you weren't sober.

he sighs, and some of both of your nerves relaxed.

"how long have you felt that way?"

you stopped, blushing a bright crimson red. Maybe he felt your eyes burning into him as you seemingly froze, but he chuckled.

"Sorry. Know it's probably not something you want to be out in the open like that, right?" he smiles reassuringly at you, "I'm… sorry you couldnt tell me. I mean, spent m'whole life trying to be your best friend and a safe space for you and I guess I've just been an added stress huh?"

"no! no.. don't think this is your fault, it isn't. I should have said something, I was just.. scared. I don't want to.. lose you. and if you're uncomfortable with me now I completely understand.."

he stops for a second, staring into your eyes. you stir, wondering what exactly he's thinking about. he sits closer to you, and places his hand on your cheek.

"You won't ever lose me, sweet girl. y'hear?"

for a moment, everything stood still. you were both smiling sweetly at each other, and though it was a prolonged amount contact, you didn't feel the need to look away or to sit back. it was just Eddie again.

you feel tears appear in the corners of your eyes, slowly running down your cheek.

he wipes them away and presses you to his chest, hugging you as tightly as he could.

"hey, hey it's okay. I promise. I'm sorry you've been harboring this for so long, you don't deserve that. I… I love you too."

...

"Ed's which towel can I use?" you hear a voice call out from the bathroom.

you slowly peak up, wiping your tears and staring past Eddie to the bathroom.

"Y/N, I know that probably sounds bad after right now but she just ended up staying at my house after, she didn't want her parents to know she-"

you sit up, not even bothering to look at him.

"i.. don't want to hear it. bye, Eddie. Tell Chrissy I said hi, okay?"

you smile and walk to his door, slowly opening it and walking out. you felt your knees attempt to buckle, but you soldiered on. you bit your lip harshly to keep it together.

You began to jog to your house, opening the door and releasing all of the hurt you had pent up.

"hun, whats wrong??" you mom prodded, running over to you and hugging you.

"He... doesnt care. you were right. He doesnt care about me anymore."

you mom looked at you briefly before hugging you tighter.

"i'm so sorry dear. Thats horrible, and just weird for him.. boys are stupid, sweetie. always will be, no way around it," she chuckled, patting you head and kissing the top of it.

after your sobbing subsided, your mom had advised you take a bath.

as you listened to the running water, you thought over your most recent moments with him. he was so sweet and reassuring, he even..

he even said he loved you.

why would he do that?

why was Chrissy there?

you know he tried to tell you, but you didn't want any excuses anymore. you just wanted to be by yourself, sinking into the warm water filling your bathtub.

as you relaxed, you heard you home phone ring multiple times in the next room. You also heard your mom telling the phone that you, 'didn't want to talk,' and you were grateful she wasn't taking his excuses either.

you looked at your hands, raising them above the water.

its time you learned how to be Y/N without eddie.

It's time you knew yourself a bit better.

staring at yourself, you noticed a beauty mark on your hand you never realized were there before.

you smelled the sweet air, and realized all of your candles were vanilla. You didn't realize you liked it so much.

you looked over your past interactions. despite being around certain people for so long, you were sure of yourself for the most part, and assertive. maybe you seemed mean, but realizing now why you were like that and that it was warranted, you were glad you were.

you were already noticing things about yourself apart from eddie.

a new beauty mark

your favorite scent

your own personality

you were excited to remove yourself from them. You have no more strings attached, no more puppet-master controlling your feelings anymore.

you smiled.

A/N: hey guys!!! dont worry, this isnt the end of this series. Y/N is just trying to find some self worth which they absolutely deserve. im so happy you all like this series so much, i really appreciate it :( this series has honestly been helping me get my mind off of things in my personal life, and seeing so many of you support me wether its with 900 notes or 100, is so important to me. thank you guys <3

tag list: @rebelcthulhu @ietss @soclover3000 @mddieeunson @charliiexx @bambi-munson @nightless @creativedogs @erodahellfire @thecraziestcrayon @yourfavoritefangirl @eddiemunson4ever @televisionboy @kellysimagines @comic-harley @chloebeansack @estellaisaloser @mcueveryday @thegirlthatsfalling @tillkummer @error-home-not-found @myfavoritesareproblematic @love-conquers-everythingg @munsonhrts @tayburkulosis @joekeeryswife @xoxoloverb @twihard08 @kibumslatina @eddiesange1 @tlclick73 @beep-beep-sherlock @littlemiss-yeehaw @violet-19999 @wyattsgirlfriend @0lissa0 @eddiethesexy @scoopsahoyspidey @givemehickeysplease @parker-natasha @seshacoono @alienthewolf @m-rae233 @rindousworld @minejungwoo

#eddie x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson series #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie x reader #eddie x you #reader x eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst fic #bestfriend!eddie #eddie munson x bestfriend!reader

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stobinesque · 10 months

Note

27. things you said through a closed door (Steddie)

here you go!! love a good through-a-closed-door convo 💙 rating: M (for frank discussions of sex) | wc: 679 cw/tags: hurt/comfort, erectile dysfunction, internalized ableism

“Come on, Eddie, just talk to me, please.” Steve’s back is pressed against the bathroom door where he feels like he’s been sitting for hours.

“No.” Eddie’s voice is muffled by what Steve is afraid might be tears, and not just the barrier between them.

“You…you don’t have anything to be embarrassed or ashamed of, you know that, right?”

Eddie laughs, but it’s derisive. “Oh, I don’t, do I? That’s real rich coming from King Steve.”

Steve hisses and thunks his head back. “Don’t…don’t do that, Eds,” he says softly.

There’s a weighty silence on the other side of the door. “I’m sorry.”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut. “It’s uh…it’s happened to me before, too, you know?”

“Yeah?” Eddie’s voice is small.

“Yeah, with, ummm, Ali Langfield?” His eyes blink open, and he stares up at the ceiling. “We were making out, and I took her upstairs at whatever party we were at—she seemed down for going all the way, but” Steve twists a wrist back and forth in his other hand. “I’d had too much to drink that night, so I just…couldn’t get hard. No matter what we tried to do. And— yeah, I guess it was kind of embarrassing? But honestly I think she felt worse about it than I did.”

Eddie scoffs. “Yeah, of course she did, Steve. She was probably thinking it was because you didn’t think she was hot enough, or something.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not the point. And it’s not what was happening. I just— I don’t think you think that about me. And I don’t think you’re, like, less of a man, or something. It happens to everyone.”

“Steve, the only time it happened to you was because you were drunk. This happens to me all the time now, and it’s not because I’ve had one too many beers, man! It’s because I’m broken.”

“I don’t care— ”

“Gee, thanks, Harrington.”

“Fucking stop that, okay?” Steve reaches up to yank at his hair. “Let me finish. And stop trying to push me away.

“I don’t care if you can’t get hard, and I don’t care if you’re broken. I don’t think you are, but I don’t think it matters, either. Because if you’re broken, then so is everyone else! That’s what this means, okay? You can’t watch someone die, and find out monsters are real, and then walk into hell, and somehow come out on the other side of all of that whole, Eddie!

“All of us—each and every one—is broken in some way. Some visible, some not. But if you go around slamming doors and throwing up walls every time someone finds one of your cracks, some day you’re not going to have anyone left to help pick up the pieces and glue them back together.” Steve exhales, heart thudding like he’s just run a mile.

“I love you—and I want you—however you are. If you can’t get hard, then we’ll have sex you don’t need to be hard for. If you don’t want me to touch your dick when it’s soft, I won’t. And if you do—I’ll touch you wherever and however you want, for as long as it feels good, because that is what having sex is supposed to be about. Not whatever dumb idea you’ve let assholes like fucking Mike Lewenski or something get stuck in your head. Okay?”

There’s silence on the other side of the door.

“Eddie?”

Steve falls backward with a yelp as the door is yanked open on him.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry!”

Steve rights himself just as Eddie starts frantically fluttering around him, his flapping hands hovering over Steve’s head, patting his shoulders, and eventually settling at the tops of his arms. Steve braces himself as his boyfriend clambers into his lap, and presses their foreheads together.

“I don’t even know who Mike Lewenski is, Steve,” Eddie murmurs.

That startles a laugh from him, giddy and free. “It’s a good thing he’s pretty unimportant, then,” he says, reaching up to pull Eddie into a kiss.

Eddie follows.

send me a pairing and a prompt!

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #read writes #fic #prompts #i can never figure out what counts as long enough to need a cut but the previous one felt like i was pushing it

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rainylana · 11 months

Text

“Bad day.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: another bully fic because i’m lowkey obsessed.

warnings: bully eddie, crying, language, requested by @somethingvicked

He pulled her hair, pinched her arm and kicked at her feet, threw her papers in the air and put super glue on her locker combination. He did everything to get her to play back. They played a game, a mean one, one that he looked forward to everyday. It was his only motivation to get up and go to school, really, all because he could pick on you.

He was in denial with his feelings for you. Everyone but him knew that he was smitten with you, but he was simply too cruel with you for you to realize his intentions.

It must had been a bad day, he realized, because you just weren’t playing back and it was pissing him off.

“Yo, Gar’,” Eddie snapped his fingers in his friends face, getting his attention. “You notice anything with L/n? She’s been acting weird today.”

Gareth chuckled, giving dustin a look before he tried to be serious with Eddie. “Who? Your girlfriend? I don’t know, Ed, you tell me.”

He rolled his eyes and payed no mind to him, used to him and everyone else’s jokes they made about the two of you.

“She’s actin’ weird.” He munched on a pretzel, shaking his head.

Eddie had been picking on you since the eighth grade when you’d moved there from California. His friends had asked many times if he’d simply developed a crush on you, to which he always gagged and said you were the ugly duckling of hawkins high.

He saw you across the cafeteria in your own world, sitting amongst your friends and picking at your food.

“Look at her!” He snapped, making everyone jump. “Look at the pathetic way she’s picking at her food! It’s disgusting!”

“Oh, my god,” Mike groaned. “Eddie, maybe she doesn’t want to mess around with you today, ever think about that?”

“Oh come on, don’t be ridiculous,” He scoffed. “She loves the attention. That’s the type of girl she is.”

He shook his head in disbelief and stared at you, crossing his arms in anger. Truth was, deep deep down, he was worried about you. Worried that something had happened. He knew Jason Carver was hitting on you, maybe he’d bothered you today? The idea made his blood boil. You’d had the nerve to ask him why he hated Jason so much, just because he liked to flirt with you. He’d pulled your pigtail so hard you nearly cried.

He decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Oh, boy, there he goes.” Dustin widened his eyes as Eddie stood up and marched over to the your side of the cafeteria,

He plopped down beside you, gaining weird looks from your friends. “Afternoon, ladies,” He winked at them.

You looked up in surprise. “Eddie?” You said in confusion. “What do you want?”

He smirked, lifting his leg to place in your lap. “What did you bring me today? Anything good?” He gestured to your lunchbox.

Your lips twitched down. “Eddie, not today, please.”

He yanked your lunchbox over to him, rivaling through it as he picked out a bag of chips. “I don’t like these kind, but it’ll do, I guess.”

“Good.” You huffed, shoving his leg off you. “Now, please, leave me alone.”

He couldn’t stand you. He thought you were annoying and agitating. Everytime you talked his skin crawled and his ears rang. He thought you were beautiful.

“Hey,” He pulled your ear, making you whine. “What’s up with the fuckin’ attitude today, huh?” He snapped, not caring that he was giving a show to your friends. “You’re acting like a real brat, you know?”

“Eddie, just leave me alone!” You pleaded, finally looking over to him with big eyes, watering eyes.

“No,” He banged his fist. “Tell me why-”

“Fuck you!” You snapped, slamming your lunchbox into his chest as you got up from your seat, the cafeteria dead as everyone watched you leave the room, slamming the door on the way out, leaving a loud echo in your trail.

Eddie groaned loudly in frustration, following you out the door.

“Hey!” He called after you down the hall. “Don’t walk away from me!”

“Fuck you, Eddie!” You turned, eyes bright with tears that made him stop in his tracks. “Stop fucking following me!”

“Don’t talk to me like that.” He said sternly, heavy boots taking long strides to you. “You watch your damn tone, you hear?”

“Why are you so obsessed with me?” You said incredulously.

“I’m not.” He denied in disgust, squinting his eyes. “I think you’re disgusting. I don’t know why I even give you the time of day.”

“Then why do you!” You nearly screamed, tears spilling down your face now. “Why do you torment me every day! I’m sick of it!”

No, you weren’t. You were obsessed with Eddie just as much as he was with you, but you were at your wits end with school and your home life, it all came crashing down. Eddie was just at the receiving end.

“Because you’re a spoiled little brat that needs put in her place.” He spat.

You both panted and huffed, tears falling down your face as you sniffled. Eddie watched you for almost two minutes until he finally sighed.

“Why are you so upset?” He gave in.

You hiccuped, looking up into his eyes. “Bad day.”

He nodded, licking his lips. “Well, don’t take it out on me. I’ll give you your space.”

With that, he turned on his heal and left, leaving you a crying mess.

#lana’s shit post #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson drabbles

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carolmunson · 7 months

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baby, as if | flashbacks pt. 2

welcome back to the jungle, babes. baby as if: masterlist (read with caution.)

welcome to the second part of the flashbacks. here we see what happened, where the sour parts began. here, we semi-answer the questions for why he's like that. tw: 18+ (21+ preferred), p in v sex, drug use, references to violence, active violence (domestic and non-domestic), references to gun violence, references to violence with a switchblade, references to club going/getting lapdances, established couple arguing, verbal abuse, psychological abuse/gaslighting, screaming matches, etc. dead dove, do not eat. for a more extensive list of trigger warnings please look at the master list.

5 Years Ago

“Oh, fuck that’s it,” Eddie huffs, sweat making the underside of his hair curlier than normal against his neck, “Ride it juss – mmm, shit, just like that.”

“S’good?” you whine out, eyes glassy and begging for a morsel of his praise. You both still had your clothes on, panties pushed to the side under your diner dress, jeans shoved down part way while he leaned back on the driver’s seat of the van – parked hidden away beyond the trees outside the diner parking lot. Your lunch break spent sucking him in between your thighs.

“Mmmfuckyes,” he hisses out, voice gravelly and deep, “Always so good, sweetheart. Fuck, this pussy’s all mine, isn’it?”

“All yours,” you yelp while his palm comes down in a loud crack on the side of your ass, “S’yours.” “That’s right, s’all mine,” he whines, eyes rolling while your hips slap against his pelvis. His hips stutter upwards and still, fingertips sinking into your skin where he grabs you, “Shitshitshitshitshit.” “Ooh yes, cum for me, cum for me,” you gasp, riding him through his orgasm, only slightly lucid from your own moments before. He grins at your encouragement, brows pinching in the ecstasy of his aftershocks before he pulls you in to kiss him while you both come down.

“Fuh-hu-hu-uck, I love you,” he whispers while he catches his breath, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” you smile into his neck, pressing yourself flush against his chest to hold him tighter.

His palm grazes your back, a soft hum pouring from his chest before he presses a kiss to your shoulder, “You gotta get a new dress for the diner soon, honey. This one’s a little tight, don’t you think?”

“You callin’ me fat, Ed?” you ask, abruptly leaning back from him.

He laughs, shaking his head, “No sweetheart, not at all. M’just sayin’ it’s showing you off a little more than I’d like it to.”

“How else am I gonna get tips, handsome?” you wink. He lets his eyes roam over your for a moment.

He shrugs with the cock of his head, “When you’re right, you’re right, I guess.”

Eddie leans in to kiss you again, one rough hand comes up to cup your cheek, “If things keep goin’ how they’re goin’ you won’t even need to work at the diner anymore, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” you mumble against his lips.

“Yeah, I’ll be takin’ good care’a you,” he smirks, mouth pressing against your cheek, your jaw, your neck, “Keep you at home with a couple babies, far the fuck away from Indiana.”

“Oh, I gotta stay home with the babies?” you giggle, “I can’t be an award winning journalist while you’re home with the kids?”

“I can do that,” he laughs, nuzzling against your skin, “Be a stay at home dad, watch you be great.” You give each other a few more kisses – soft and gentle, “I’ll see you at ten, kay?” “Okay,” you whisper against his lips, crawling off of him over the console and getting in the passenger's seat so he can drive you back into the parking lot. You touch up your make up in the mirror while he watches, lower lip tucking between his teeth. “You’re too pretty,” he scolds, “Who said you could look so pretty like that?” “Shut up,” you laugh, dabbing your chapstick on with your finger. You give him a final peck on the cheek before getting out of the van altogether, “See you later.”

Time ticks on at the diner and it’s a quiet night besides of the corner booths of your regular construction guys. You always take your time with them because they tip the best right after payday and even if you hate to admit it – they’re a little funny. They’re cute, too.

The grease and oil on their clothes smells like Eddie after a shift at the garage, smells like your dad’s coveralls. It’s what you expect men to smell like these days, never scrunching your nose the way some of the women do who walk by. “Who do you think’s winning Smackdown this season?” Bryan asks you in front of the guys. “Bry, you ask me something about WWE every time you’re here and every time I gotta tell you I have no clue what you’re talkin’ about,” you laugh, writing out the check and slipping it onto the table. “We gotta educate ya, girl,” the guys chime in, “Maybe one of these nights we can have the remote and put it on. We’ll tell you all about it.” “Over my boss’s dead body,” you roll your eyes, “No rush on the check fellas, let me know if you need anything else.” They always hang around late but you never mind too much, they don’t ask a lot and they never get too rowdy now matter how many beers they clear. Bryan and his closer work buddies have been coming around here since long before you were working behind the counter. He knows your birthday and you know his, you met his mom a couple of times, his grandparents twice. His daddy left when he was a kid, but his papa basically raised him.

The bell on the door clinks and you can smell the acrid tobacco from the Camel’s Eddie smoked when the air whooshes in with him. He smiles at you, soft pink lips splitting his face when he sees you behind the shiney linoleum. Ten o’clock on the dot. You pour him a cup of coffee when he sits on the stool across from you. “How long you think it’s gonna take to close up tonight?” he asks, tossing a glance over at the group in the corner booths. His brows raise slightly before he brings his attention back to you: the smear of your mascara under your eyes, the slight dampness at your hairline – too pretty. “Should be ready to hit the road around eleven,” you pass him a couple of creamers and a sugar packet which he always ignores. Sandra tries not to get mad when you flirt instead of closing up.

He leans up on the stool, lips pulling in for a smooch. You oblige him every time, never realizing all the reasons he does it. He wants those boys to know you aren't on the market, well taken care of by a man with his budding reputation. Eddie Munson wasn't really someone you wanted to get on the bad side of, at least that's what people were saying in town under their chitters of day to day gossip. His posture stiffens when the guys get up to pay about a half hour later, when they make jokes with you, when they imply they'll see you tomorrow. Eddie's jaw clenches and releases, rolling his shoulders when they file outside to smoke their end of night cigarettes.

"Busy night?" he asks once the bell stops dinging. "A little," you shrug, you walk around the counter to clean up their table; smiling to see they've stacked everything together to make it easier to carry. "Good tips?" he asks. You nod, patting your apron while you disappear in the back, letting Peter know that was the last of the dishes. Eddie catches you when you reappear, closing in on a slow kiss. "Thought about you all day," he smiles, "Your dad was pissed, I dropped a wrench twice under the hood of some new customer's car." "Don't test him," you tease, "He's a hard ass." "I'm his favorite," he winks, "Gonna be his son one day, right? He can't hate me now." You start to count out the register, catching his eye in between the change of bills -- he winks each time, making your heart race. But your smile falls when you see his phone start to buzz on the table.

“Don’t get all pouty, it could just be Gare,” he says when he catches your change in expression. The soft breath out of his nose tells you enough. “M’sorry baby, I gotta go,” he says, one foot already hitting the white and black tile below him, “Big move over by Rick’s and they need extra support.”

He leans over the counter again to give you a kiss, but your frown is evident. "How am I gonna get home, Ed?" you ask softly. "Aw, honey," he pouts, voice stuffy with baby talk, "M'so mean, huh? Why don't you call your dad? He'll come get you. Unless you wanna wait for me. I’ll be back in – I dunno, two hours tops. Come back a few G’s richer than I was before." "I'm not waiting around outside the diner until one in the morning," you sigh, reaching for your phone in your apron, "I'll figure something out." Your frustration is evident.

“C'mon, look'it me," he says softly, smiling when he meets your eye, "I’ll get you somethin’ pretty tomorrow." He leans forward to kiss you again – short little pecks, “Whatever.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss. “Want.” Kiss. “Don’t make this a regular thing,” you warn, crossing your arms and trying not to smile after the kissy assault. He nods, leaning in again to kiss you on the mouth more seriously than before.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” he says, gathering his keys and bouncing up off the stool, "Text me when you get home. I love you." “I know, handsome,” you nod.. He blushes at the name, you know it’s his favorite – he never really thought he was handsome before you came around to remind him all the time.

“Hey,” he pouts at you from the door, “Say it back.” "I love you, too," you sing song, leaning on your elbow on the clean counter top. That's how it's been -- always with a promise of something pretty, of something new, of something he wants to see you in, to smell you in, to kiss you in. New shoes, new dress, new mascara, new lip gloss, new, new, new. But you were starting to miss the old Eddie who didn’t have to be on call all the time. Eddie, who'd be excited to see Beau at the shop, who wasn’t too tired from being with Rick and the boys, from making deals all night – from pushing bricks in different states.

When 11 hits you make your way out of the diner, your dad didn't answer your call -- both your parents and Beau fast asleep by now. You light a cigarette, seeing the headlights of a car turn on in the dark parking lot headed your way. "Hey, where's your man?" Bryan says from the driver's side, another friend in the passenger. "Had somethin' to do," you shrug, flicking your ash into the bush behind you. "I can give you a ride, if you want."

You weren't in any position to say no to a ride.

A few weeks pass and Eddie hasn't been able to drive you home from the diner at all these days. Date nights coming in a little farther and few in between. Even Beau had been asking where he'd been lately. But tonight it was just the two of you, back pack filled for a night over at his place. Movies snuggled up on his couch, two different kinds of pizza and the cinnasticks you liked so much -- extra iceing. You could barely stop smiling during your mid-shift, giggling at every text message, every smiley he sent your way.

You jump at the harsh sound of the horn outside, expecting him to come in and give your mom a hug like he usually does. He's idling outside of your family's house, knee bouncing and fingers tapping on the steering wheel. Hair tied up, bangs curly and over flowing on his forehead, damp with sweat.

“Is that Ed, honey?” she calls from the kitchen, organizing pins back in her trusty tackle box of hair fixins that she keeps in the cabinets closer to her hair cutting chair.

“Yeah!” you yell back, shoving some essentials in your purse before running toward the door, “Um, I’ll probably see you tomorrow!”

“Okay, tell him I said hi!” she offera while you head outside. He flashes his high beams at you, honking the horn again while you squint under the harsh bright lights. Your keys jingle in your hand while your sneakers sink into the mud from the summer rain, hurrying to open the door.

“Hi handsome,” you smile, but he doesn’t look happy to see you, “You okay?”

“Babe, what’re you wearing?” he asks while he looks you over, “We’re goin’ to the club.”

You look him over, blackest black slim fit slacks, shoes shined, leather jacket newly conditioned while all the hardware glinted back at you in the light above him. You look down at your sweatshirt and jean shorts, your dirty sneakers, “Oh, um, I can go change.”

He sighs, big and heavy, leaning his head back on the headrest, “We don’t have time, I gotta meet Rick beforehand.”

“You didn’t – you didn’t tell me. I thought we were just going to yours tonight,” you say, hoisting yourself into the passengers seat, “So don’t act all – I don’t know – fuckin’ exasperated with me for not dressin’ up.”

He takes a deep breath through his mouth and out through his nose, eyes closing and fingers tightening on the wheel while you click your seatbelt into place, “M’not exasperated with you. But now I gotta leave you at Rick’s ‘cause I’m not gonna be late for this play just cause you don’t read your texts.”

Your furrow your brows at him, his tone feels clipped, sharpened – he was tense like a stretched elastic, waiting to snap, “You didn’t text me.”

“Yes I did,” he huffs, pulling out of the driveway and onto the street, “Why don’t you check?”

You do, even going as far to open your text conversation, his last message from the last hour in his shift: see u in two hours, qt :)

“It’s just from when you texted me from work,” you say, turning the screen toward him, “See?”

He scans it, knee bouncing, fingers drumming, he swipes his hand under his bangs to push away the sweat, “You have bad service or something? Did you delete it?”

“No, babe, I think you just didn’t press send,” you laugh lightly, “Unless you got some other bitches you were supposed to meet tonight.”

His head had never whipped so fast around, “Why would you say somethin’ like that, hm?” he snaps, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Ed, babe,” you say softly, “You serious? I was joking. It was just a slip up, I’ll hang at Rick’s.”

“Well it’s not funny,” he says, leg bouncing so fast it shakes the van at the red light you’re stopped at, “I don’t like that shit.”

Your heart sinks, watching the whites of his knuckles flex and relax on the wheel. Your suspicions might be right about why he was acting like this tonight, “You gonna kiss me hello, or no, Munson?”

His shoulders slump, turning to you to lean in for a kiss, but you catch his eyes in the streetlights – pupils blown to block out his pretty brown irises. Your brows pinch and you reach out to hold his chin in your hand.

“Wait – are you -- are you fucking tweaking right now?” you ask, the anger present on your face.

“Stop it,” he sighs, rolling his eyes and dragging his face out of your grip to look back on the road, “I had a little blow, m’not tweaking.”

“So you’re gonna do this play all revved up? Thought you weren’t ever gonna touch your own stash,” you snap. Eddie wasn’t innocent and you weren’t either, but he was always – always adamant on not touching what he sells.

“I’ve been awake for two days,” he boredly explains, raising his voice to drown out your disappointment, “I needed a boost.”

He grabs your hand from your lap, pulling your knuckles up to his mouth to kiss them, “Don’t be mad, please?”

“I’m not mad you just…you don’t have the right personality to be playing around with that shit,” You huff, savoring the feeling of his soft lips on your fingers.

“M’not playing around with it, it was just for a boost,” he pleads in a whine. You stay glaring at the windshield while his thumb caresses your hand.

“Baby…” he says sweetly, casting his hook, “Don’t be mad, baby girl. I’m sorry.”

Line. Sinker. You try not to grin but can’t help it, warmth pools through your body when he talks to you like that. He presses a kiss to your fingertips this time.

“Do you love me?” he asks. “Unfortunately,” you groan sarcastically.

“I love you more,” he says, keeping your hand with his on his lap, “Love you the most.”

You get to Rick's, hand in hand with your boyfriend while he guides you inside. To anyone else it would look like a party but the group was too small, it's what Eddie would call a gathering. He says his hellos and you say yours before Ed finds the man of the hour in the corner with Steve Harrington -- budding favorite dealer amongst Indiana's elite. "Harrington," Eddie nods, his arm skating around your waist. They nod at eachother mid conversation, you both wave. You try not to listen to whatever they're talking about, not wanting to get caught up in the stress. The smoke in the air burns your eyes against the neon pink light fixtures burning on the wall. You wonder where Rick ordered these one's from -- or stole them. Something. "Alright baby, I'm gonna head out with the guys but I'll be around later, alright? I'll come get you," he promises, pressing kisses on your cheek that offer you whispers of his cologne. It's not too long before a joint is perched between your lips, hearing the revs of cars and Steve's motorcycle outside, all headed to he same place. But Eddie didn't show up -- popped up two days later with a cross tattoo on one of his knuckles -- fresh. His eyes were dark, under eyes darker -- tense and overwhelmed -- but much richer than he was two days before. Not showing up became regular. Countless texts and calls of: ‘Sorry baby, things are running late.’ ‘Sorry baby, have to run some plays for Rick.’

‘Sorry baby, gotta go to Michigan with some of the guys.’

'Sorry baby, I'm just so tired.'

Bryan drove you home every shift for two months, ever since Eddie stopped coming by. Started spending his nights at clubs and bars to deal, ignoring your calls and texts for days on end.

You let Bryan start kissing you goodbye.

Four and a Half Years Ago

Eddie got another cross tattoo a month after his first, hunkering down and laying low for a while, especially now that his daddy was out of jail. No one liked Mack Munson the way they liked his son, not the same criminal he was. Mack did crime for sport, how far can you go? How many people can you hurt? How many envelopes can you push until you've pushed too many? He's normally out for a few months before he's back in again, but that's easy when you've got no where to go.

Eddie was different -- making a name for himself in all the right ways. Oh, a kid at the park's bike got stolen? Eddie got him a new one. Wayne's car broke down? He covered the cost to fix it. Mrs. Costner couldn't pay her heating bill? Don't worry, Eddie will be there with the cash before you can say 'hypothermia.' Even the cops were starting to let him slide if he could spare a few pills, a few ounces, a few dollars. It felt good to be bad if he could get some good out of it. Not that he was telling you anything, this was through the grapevine. Checking your phone to some of your friends with pictures of him at the club. 'This your man?'

Maybe.

He'd come see you sometimes at the diner, fresh and clean, nails shined and silver shinier. Eddie would look at you with those love sick eyes, watching you work in the overhead light. Your smile, your laugh, the way you hold one hand on your hip while you pour coffee. His phone would buzz and then he'd leave, sometimes without saying goodbye.

Your boyfriend, the ghost. Sex felt different when he offered it, he seemed distracted. You could've sworn you saw a girl's name pop up on the screen when he had a call come in but he'd flip it over before you were sure. Forehead to forehead, panting while he held your face in place to look at him. I love you, I love you, I love you. It was hollow, the dark blackness of his oversized pupils daring you to not say it back. You always did. How could you not?

Bryan was different -- he was long car rides and shared doughnuts. He always let you play your favotite songs on the radio. You weren't walking on egg shells, he liked when you bantered with his friends. There wasn't an underlying dread beneath every interaction the way it had become with Ed.

And Bryan's pupils always stayed the same size.

You aren't expecting to see Eddie's van outside the diner when you finish up your mid-day shift. The fall weather turned the sun down hours ago, but the night was still young and abuzz with life. You'd planned on going out since you had the weekened off, but it seemed like Eddie had different ideas for you.

He shoved the diner door open, looking disheveled and out touch, reeking of cigarettes he chainsmoked before he got in. "You done for the night?" he asks while you come around the corner of the counter with your jacket on. "Yeah, um -- why're you here? You didn't text me," you ask quietly, following him out into the crisp air. You wave your goodbyes through the newly repaired window to a dissapointed Sandra -- even if Eddie paid for the fix, she still didn't like that boy.

"We're goin' for a ride," he mumbles, "Gotta talk to you about somethin'."

You heart sinks and then hammers when you get in the passengers seat of the van. Fear floods through your veins, even overpowering your disappointment when you see a lipgloss in his cup holder that you know doesn't belong to you.

You take the moment that he's distracted from a phonecall with Gareth to text Bryan that you won't need a ride, shoving the phone in your pocket where he can't see. Eddie takes you to the lake where you both used to sit in talk in the summers when you were first getting to know each other. This visit didn't feel friendly in the same way, this time you knew he wasn't going to awkwardly reach for your hand or fumble over his wors like he used to.

“So you fucked some other guy?” he asks, flicking his cigarette into the lake, “You cheated on me?”

“I – Eddie -- we've barely been seeing each other. You've been dodging for months,” you explain, “I thought we were done.”

“Did I say that? Did I break up with you?” he snaps, “Cause I’m pretty sure your dad still thinks I’m your boyfriend. Pretty sure all the guys still think I’m your boyfriend. And now I look fuckin’ stupid ‘cause you’re goin’ around with some asshole.”

You shook your head no, feeling his anger radiate off of him, so quick to find it these days, “M’not goin’ around with someone. We aren’t like, together or anything. He took me on a few dates, he drives me home, we kissed, we–”

“You fucked him,” he spits, “And I know you did cause you can’t fuckin’ look me in the eyes. You at least owe me that much.”

You reluctantly make eye contact with him, your reflection shining back in his wet angry gaze. You take a deep breath through your nose and out through your mouth shakily, “Yeah, I fucked him. At least he’s fucking around for me to fuck.”

“Oh, s’that what this is?” he scoffs, “Not getting enough attention? God for-fuckin’-bid huh? God forbid I got shit to take care of so I can help out my uncle and get ‘im set up in an apartment. God forbid I start movin’ up the ranks so I can start making some more cash. And-and-and god fuckin’ forbid I take some different shifts at the garage so I can sleep in a little after being up all night tryna not get busted by Hopper and his fuckin’ pig brigade. So sorry I wasn’t comin’ home to you with flowers every night, I had to take care of some other shit. I mean Jesus Christ do you ever think about anyone but yourself?”

Your eyes meet the earth again, watching the way your calves flexed and unflexed, the crease and re-crease of your sneakers.

“You’ve been at the club, Ed,” you murmur quietly, “So you’re not so innocent either.”

“At the club?!” he balks, “You mean sellin’ drugs at the club?”

Your eyes burn with tears because he’s not hearing you, “You’re n-not just selling at the club. The girls’ve been showing me p-pictures. You’ve been hooking up there long before I started seeing Bryan.”

He lights another cigarette, letting the smoke billow out into your face, “So his name’s Bryan, huh? Okay.”

He takes a step toward you, sticks and wet grass crunching under his boots, “And what’s so great about Bryan, baby?”

You swallow thickly, suddenly aware of his looming presence, how big he can make himself seem when he’s angry. He takes another crunching step towards you, only a foot between the ends of your sneakers and the tips of his Docs. You feel the smoke of his next drag kiss your face again, hear his arms cross over his t-shirt.

“You forget how to talk, princess?” he bites. You shake your head no, matching his posture by crossing your arms over your chest. The straps of your tank top bite at your shoulders uner your jacket when you do, your bra straps pulling along with them.

“He cares,” you say quietly, “He’s not…he’s not giving me up to go, I don’t know, have strippers dance on him so he can make a buck at a bar.”

“He cares? Is that what you call it?” Eddie laughs bitterly, “So it wasn’t me caring about you when you’d call me every night from your dorm? Not me helpin’ watch your little brother when you needed to take an extra shift or two? Helping your mom with her errands? It’s not me caring when we’d drive out to the dunes cause you wanted to put your toes in the sand – you know how much money I lost that day?”

Your eyes pool with tears when you remember that day, he’d tossed his phone in the trunk. Nothin’s as important as bein’ with my girl, baby.

“Buying you a new TV for Beau so he can play video games in his room and not bother your dad? Fuck, takin’ your dad out to lunch so we can talk about the future I want with you? But I don’t fuckin’ care? Askin’ him your ring size but I don’t fuckin’ care?!” his voice raises with every sentence.

You wince when he shouts, not expecting the anger to be so explosive. His pupils are blown, but that was starting to become more expected than before. He shakes his head, "You know what, babe? You're right. I don't fuckin' care. I don't fuckin' need you." Eddie tosses his cigarette to his feet, stomping it out. "Plenty of other pussy to keep me occupied, right?" he asks, head tilting when he looks at you, "Since that's who I am, huh? Didn't bother to ask me if I was fuckin' around did you?"

"S'not like you'd tell me the truth," you argue back quietly, voice meek while you hold back your tears. "Pffft," he scoffs, "Better watch that attitude on you, girl. You're gonna run that mouth to the wrong person one day. Not every guy is like me."

He crunches back toward the van, lingering his eyes on you while he stands at the open door on the drivers side. His face is pale in the light of the moon, eyes aching for you to say something. Almost yearning before he hardens again. "Bryan can pick you up, right?"

Four-ish/Three-ish Years Ago

Bry asked you to be his girlfriend two weeks after your fight with Eddie. Pulled out all the stops with that union money; good dinners, nights out on the town, all the boys knew how to do was drink beer and party. You finally started to understand WWE in a way you weren't sure you were supposed to, but it was as fun as it was ridiculous. Boys nights became boys nights plus you, the crowd favorite. Pulled in for soft kisses on football Sundays and baseball games, borrowed jackets if it got chilly. Eddie never let you wear his jacket. After a month you were sure that you'd made the right decision. The soft way he looked at you, his sandy hair, the callouses on his hands from a hard day of work. He was a good boy, good enough that Sandra made sure to give them discounts every time him and his friends came in. You only thought about Eddie when you'd run into him or that crew in town, cigarette between his full lips and a snarl to match.

Eddie didn't like to be made a fool of the way you'd made a fool of him. After another month, you barely thought about him anymore -- you had other things to worry about.

Bliss has its costs.

The first time Bryan hit you it was a blip in time, followed by a water fall of apologies. Before you noticed how much beer he was backing when he was out with the guys, why he started off so nice. You never saw him after he got too drunk -- angry and ruddy in the face. Stumbling into his apartment where you'd be there waiting for him. He stopped liking it when you'd joke around with his friends. He stopped liking it when you'd come to boys nights. He stopped letting you listen to your favorite songs in the car.

But when he was good, he was so, so good.

When he was bad, he was horrid.

Eventually, your parents noticed that you stopped coming around. You never showed up at the shop, stopped bringing Beau to and from camp and school. Your mama never saw you, you hardly came home. Your daddy would text you in the morning and ask if you’d be in the diner that night to get a glimpse of you. Bryan would snatch your phone at every incessant call.

“Why do your folks wanna talk to you all the time?” he’d ask, “Did you tell ‘em you wanna leave?”

You got so many bouquets over the next five months you could open a flower shop or a funeral service. Either way, they were more often than not. The 'sorry's' never stopped coming and the bruising started to match. You went through concealer like the diner went through cooking grease -- opting to start wearing readers to work to detract from the caked up product on your cheeks, by your lips, on your throat. But no matter how bad it got your heart would soar at his smile, at his gentle touch, at the softness of his kiss. You knew now why it was so hard for all those other women to leave.

You started hearing stories about Eddie -- more erratic than he was before but somehow more beloved around his part of town. A violent type of Robinhood that you didn't want to cross. Gareth came by the diner one night when you had finally gone in, sitting across from you with a smile while you caught up on a slow Tuesday. Told you all about it, about him, about what was new with the guys. It felt nice, like old times -- a fondness in your chest blooming when you watched him leave.

Two days later, your phone buzzed in the darkness of Bryan's apartment -- RESTRICTED popping up on the screen. You didn't have to guess who it was; Gareth wasn't coming in for a late dinner. He was doing rounds. He was keeping tabs on you.

Bryan had passed out on the couch hours ago, the deep steadiness of his snoring echoing through the living room. You reach for your phone, tip-toeing to the back porch while you consider denying the call -- but you know he'll just keep calling. He hates being left in the dark.

You answer shakily, “Hello?”

“Where are you?” you hear him ask in a low voice, menacing, “Sandra told me what’s goin’ on. Where are you? Now.”

“Nothing’s goin’ on, Ed,” you say quietly.

“If nothings goin’ on then why’re you whisperin’, hm? You keepin’ quiet for what?” he challenges, “Are you at his house?”

“I’m not telling you where I am.” “You think I won’t find you? I got eyes all over this place,” his laughs, “You don’t think if I tell Sandra I’m comin’ to save your ass she won’t give me your schedule?”

“There’s a reason she doesn’t give it out to you,” you hiss, “It’s literally illegal. Can you stop your fuckin’ hero shit? You think you’re any better?”

“Hero shit?” he growls, “Your mama keeps calling me crying on the phone asking if I’d seen or heard from you at all. Your daddy hasn’t slept in days thinking maybe this asshole finally snapped your fuckin’ neck. You keep skippin’ out on shifts at the diner and you wanna shit on me for tryna help? Fuck outta here.”

“I’m fine,” you say through gritted teeth, “Stop. Calling.”

“And yeah, sweetheart, I do think I’m better,” his voice raises, blaring through the receiver, “When’d you ever hear that I’m beating on the bitches I take home? Who am I beating on? Don’t make shit up just ‘cause you wanna be stubborn.”

"Fuck off," you hiss. "Why did Gareth tell me you got bruisin' everywhere, hm? Why did Sandra stop me the other night at Melvald's to tell me to call you? I know she doesn't like me, so it must be serious -- right?" he challenges.

"I have it under control," you growl. "Yeah?" his voice lilts, argumentative and ready to go, "Well fu--" "Who're you talkin' to?"

Bryan takes your phone before you can answer.

When you show up to your shift the next day Sandra can barely recognize you, tears welling up in her eyes when you come in the door.

You do your best not to meet her gaze, simply nodding when she asks 'Was it him?'

You woke up late, knowing you couldn't miss another day or the owner would fire you -- already on probation for all the work you've missed. Didn't have a chance to shower let alone do your makeup, not that you could bare to touch some of it.

The morning is slow, she let's you sit in the back and cry it out to Paul while he flips burgers and flap jacks on the grill. You prep, chopping up whatever he could have you chop, anything to keep you back with him unless Bryan thought it was a good time to show up with his buddies.

He passes you a lemonade and two Advil at noon, winking in the way grandfather's do when they know you've had a bad day.

"Here ya go, sugar," he smiles. You smile back, igorning the sting of the tear in your lip reopening at the gesture.

"Thanks, Paul."

The bell dings during another slow period and you smell Camels before you catch a familiar whiff of Creed Aventus.

"She's in the back," you hear Sandra mutter through the server window.

“Oh, girl, what did he do to you?” You know that smoky voice anywhere, it pours like ice down your back. “You can’t be here,” you shake your head, stepping away while he steps closer to you.

“Hey, look,” he starts with his hands up, soft and gentle, “Look, look. Sandra called me, I’m just coming to pick you up.”

“I have to be here,” you assure, “I can't leave early, he's gonna know.” “That’s fine,” Eddie shrugs, “I’ll tell him you’re comin’ with me.”

You shake your head no, “It’s fine Ed, I can handle this. Please just go home.”

“I’m not doin’ this with you,” he shakes his head in response, gruffer this time, “This isn’t for me. Your folks, they – they miss you. Beau misses you. Asks me if I’ve seen you every time he’s at the shop. I can’t be lyin’ to Beau like that. Don’t you miss him? Don’t you miss your folks?”

Your lower lip wobbles when you think about Beau, all the basketball games you missed for his youth league. The voicemails of him begging you to come.

"C'mon, Sandra said it's okay if you dip out early," he says, ecouraging you with caution -- like you're a feral cat about to run away, "Come with me, I'll take you back to his so we can get your stuff." "Eddie please," you beg, "Please don't get involved -- he'll get the cops on your back I --" "I'm not worried about cops," he chuckles, a knowing smirk flickering on his lips, "Get your jacket, come get in the van." "I can't..." you urge again, throat tight with a threatening cry. You turn around, back to your chopping, drowning out the blood pumping in your ears with the beat of the knife.

"You can, c'mon." You ignore him, feeling his eyes on you, narrowing down to burn holes in the back of your skull. He doesn't have the same patience he used to. You hear his soft sigh, the cross and uncross of his leather jacket, the tinkling of his chains and hardware.

"Baby..."

The dam breaks as his smooth honey voice; it had been so long since someone had called you that. Said it like that, so low and pretty, like he means it. You let out a choked sob when you feel his palm slide over your back and around your shoulder.

"Oh, baby, baby, come here," he whispers, pulling you into him while you fall apart. Tears streaming over the bruises on your cheek bone, the tear in your lip, over your jaw.

"Let's go get your stuff, okay?" he asks, rubbing your back against the polyester of your work dress -- you got a new one in a size too big when Bryan said he didn't like how your old one fit, "Come on, let's go get in my car."

"Prince of the trailer park," Bryan grits toward Ed when he knocks on the door, "To what do I owe this white trash surprise?" "Comin' to get her stuff," he respons nonchalantly, "You gonna let me in or what?"

"Her stuff?" Bryan asks, sick smirk sliding over his face, bleary eyes peering into the van parked by the sidewalk. "What's she tellin' you?" he asks, arms crossed over his white tee, freckled arms flashing against the fabric.

"Nothin'," Ed shakes his head, "Just comin' to get her stuff." Bryan takes a step forward and that's all it takes to get Ed ready to go, arm out to keep his distance, to keep himself between your boyfriend and the van.

“I’m not playin’ around today, man,” Eddie warns, “Let me go grab her stuff and this doesn’t have to be a problem.”

“Problem? You’re ninety pounds soakin’ wet,” Bryan laughs, his couple inches on Eddie helping to bore over him, “What’s she telling you?”

“She hasn’t had to tell me anything,” Ed repeats, “S’all over her face. You’re all over her fuckin’ face man, now let me in the door before I do something you don’t like.”

Bryan lunges, but he’s not quick enough, the soft click of a gun cocking puts him back at attention. “My uncle did two tours, Bry, you think I don’t know my way around a trigger?” Eddie smirks. You watch from the van, horrified, heart racing when you see the black metal gleam in broad daylight. Ignoring Eddie’s demands to stay in the car you throw open the door and run to the sidewalk.

“What the fuck, Ed?” you rasp out, voice heavy with your earlier cry, “Put that shit away.”

Bryan catches your eye, looking at you with a fuming rage, “This is all you, huh?”

“No, it’s not – I didn’t say anything,” you plead up at him, “I promise.”

“Listen pal,” Eddie continues, another step forward while his heavy boot finds its way over the door frame, “We can make this real easy if you let me.”

They bark at each other like rabid dogs when the doors close behind the three of you, a barrage of insults from Bryan’s liquor soaked mouth. You grit your teeth, jaw tight while you decide what’s worth it to keep and what’s not. Your eyes glaze over with tears and the whirl of the place around you.

When did Eddie start carrying a gun?

When you’ve fit as much as you can in your duffle you make your way towards the door; hearing Eddie’s low growl of the threat when Bryan makes it way over to you.

“If you think for one second you’re gonna see or hear from her again then I promise you, you are sorely mistaken,” he mutters, the scrape of metal on metal rings in your ears when his rings slide over the short barrel.

“If I remember correctly, you’re not around too to find out are you?” Bryan bites back.

Eddie chuckles smugly, a tight pulled smile across his face with his dimples deep on his cheeks, “I got eyes on every corner, chief. Don’t test me.”

“We’ll see about that, huh Munson?” Bryan nods, eyes settling on Eddie’s knuckles – another fresh cross tattoo blazoned across pale skin.

“We won’t see about shit,” Eddie nods back, “I always keep my promises.”

He takes you to his place -- his uncle in a nice little apartment in the city now so the trailer's his. It looks the part, new repairs and updates the other people in the park couldn't believe when he started making them. You fret and worry the whole way there, not looking at him once for the ride, not even a thank you.

"He won't come to mine," Eddie soothes in the car, "I got a friend outside your folks place, too."

"Mhm," you nod, watching the town woosh by while he presses on the gas, two turns and it's just trees lining the street.

"You're okay," he says when he pulls in, hopping out to open your door from the otherside, "C'mere."

You follow him in, collapsing on his bed the moment you make it into his room. His sheets are fresh, they smell like him on his side, pillow laced with a few strands of his wavy hair.

"You know you're the only one I ever let in my bed," he says softly, kicking his boots off in line with his other shoes. "Hmm," you hum, too despondent to reply.

"Scooch," he mumbles, warm palm pushing gently at your arm. You make room for him, hearing his jacket slide off and his belt get undone. If it was a year and some change ago the sound would've sent your reeling with need, now it just sounds hollow.

He slides in next to you, encouraging you to flip over so he can see you. You haven't looked in those soft brown eyes in a while, it almost hurts. His brows furrow and then soften, yearning the way they did before he left you by the lake.

"You hurtin'?" he asks, hand reaching up to run over your hair, "Can I get you something?"

"I took some Advil at work," you answer, the ache at a dull thud in your face. Exhaustion starts to overtake you while you sink into his mattress, the first time you've felt safe in months.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks, thumb sliding feather light over the bruise on your cheek bone.

"Didn't want you to be right," you croak out. "Sounds like you," you smiles back. He comes in closer, arm snaking around you like he used to.

"I missed you," he whispers, "All the time."

Your eyes water, "Don't...don't do that."

"Baby, I'm being honest," he urges, "Couldn't stop thinking about you."

"You don't mean that," you sniffle, your heart sinking while he pours out more confessions.

"Of course I mean it," he says, looking at you with desperation behind his gaze. He leans in slow, warm lips brushing yours, careful not to press to hard on the swollen corner of yours. You relent, letting him kiss you, letting his hands roam over your waist and push you in from between your shoulder blades.

"Didn't you miss me?" he asks. The pit in your stomach knows that you didn't -- you didn't miss him breaking off dates, you didn't miss the ignored calls, you didn't miss him fucking off for who knows how long. You didn't miss finding lipgloss in his car, hair strands that weren't yours.

But you missed this. The way it feels to be told that you're the only one allowed in his bed. The only one he sends someone to keep tabs on. The only one he misses.

You nod, your body moving this time to get close to him.

"I'd never hurt you like that," he mumbles against your lips, "Not my baby. Not my girl."

He holds your eyes in his when he puts you gently on your back, gingerly pulling off your diner dress. He presses kisses down your neck, across your chest.

"Let me make you feel special," he says down at you, light shining behind his head like a halo, "Let me show you how special you are."

He still knows your body like he wrote the schematics for it, pulling soft needy moans out of you like a never ending string of chords he's always known how to play. You almost forget the thumping pain in your head, peppered in gentle kisses at every wince. 'I love you' weighing heavy on his tongue when he keeps eye contact, but never passing his lips. Never passing yours. Maybe neither of you have to say it.

You both settle afterwards, two rounds have pushed you past the point of exhaustion -- fast sleep in his arms after a bottle of water and two more Advil out of the palm of his hand.

You wake up in darkness, a sea of dark blue and black with a soft green glow of his side table clock. A little past midnight.

Your head pounds, dehydrated from all the crying. You search for your phone in the blankets -- noticing the bed next to you is empty while doing so. You peer over the mattress, no light coming in from under the door.

"Ed?" you call out, but no one responds. You sigh, finally finding your phone somwhere under your hip. Your inner thighs ache from having his hips slam into them hours before, hips in their full extension while he pushed into you deeper and deeper.

274 missed calls. All from Bryan.

Your blood runs cold, looking out the window to see Eddie's van missing. A car you don't recognize sits a trailer away, humming with muffled music, a shadowed figure inside behind a cloud of smoke. A gentle moment of ease flits through you -- at least someone was looking out.

i just woke up, where are you? who's the guy outside?

You wait for a bit, going through your socials to make sure Bryan is blocked on everything. You delete all the messages, not bothering to read them so your fear doesn't spike again.

Your phone buzzes.

i'm out.

You swallow, hoping he's not making good on any promises -- not after that show earlier this afternoon. But you don't have to wonder past the next scroll on Instagram.

Grainy with a filter is a photo posted 45 minutes ago from a friend of a friend, a bottle girl at the club that all the boys love the most. With two girls on each thigh there sits Eddie in a VIP back room, laughing at someone in the background -- whiskey neat in one hand, cigarette in the other. The caption makes your heart hammer --

'our king on his throne. ♡'

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #dark!eddie munson #dark eddie munson #stranger things fan fiction #modern!eddie munson #modern eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fan fiction

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hairmetal666 · 1 year

Text

Steddie Notes Part 4 (Welcome to Steve's POV)

CW//small instance that could be viewed as internalized homophobia

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

In the bottom of Steve’s closet is a Nike shoe box. It’s full of a year’s worth of torn notebook pages, paper menus, receipts, envelopes, sticky notes, notepad sheets, invoice carbon copies, discarded things from dnd, and whatever else they could find to write on.

It's this box that contains every bit of Steve’s heart.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

Steve’s at the school to pick up Dustin, Mike and Lucas, but they don’t appear at 9pm on the dot like they promised. Grumbling and annoyed, Steve heads down to the drama club room.

He hears Eddie’s voice even before he walks into the room. The low baritone, all husky and threatening, sends shivers down Steve’s spine.

Steve strides into the room, ready to berate his kids for their tardiness, but he stops literally in his tracks when he sees Eddie. Eddie looming over the table, all that long curly hair framing his face; his expression uncharacteristically dangerous, his eyes flat and promising violence.

He can’t do anything but stare, mouth shocked wide. Eddie lifts his gaze, locks it on Steve. Eddie’s looking at him with such intense command, such focus, that Steve knows he’d drop to his knees for that look, give Eddie anything he asked, everything.

He wants. So hard and so fast it makes him a little nauseous.

Eddie’s gaze flicks away, while Steve reels from the striking clarity of feeling that rewrites the year of their friendship frame-by-frame.

Steve hardly listens, still trying to come to terms with his sudden realization, with how right it is, with how obvious it’s been this whole time. He remembers, after Starcourt, the way Eddie made him feel safe, cared for. The way Eddie calling him baby echoed for hours, days, weeks after.

Of course Eddie doesn’t miss Steve's distraction. He leans into Steve's space, murmuring softly, “You okay, sweetheart? Sorry we ran late. Lost track of time.”

“Just tired, I guess.," he says. And he is distinctly not okay, because Eddie is calling him sweetheart and how did it take him this long to realize how much he loves the pet names?

He tries to tell Eddie. Can’t. Too afraid of losing his friend. He keeps going out with girls; nice girls, pretty girls, but wishes that Eddie was the one sitting beside him in the movie theater, in the passenger side of his car, across from him at the restaurant.

Eddie…I think I really like you

You’re my favorite person in the entire world

Some days you’re the only thing I can think about

I want to wake up in bed with you everyday

I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss you

Do you like me? Yes or No

✏️✏️✏️✏️

Steve’s in the Wheeler’s basement, leaning against Eddie's shoulder, waiting for the kids to finish up.

“What are they talking about?” He scribbles at the edge of Eddie’s campaign notes.

Eddie scowls at the note placement, responds anyway.

“Halloween costumes.”

“Wanna dress up together, Munson?”

“No way, Harrington, I’m not dressing up as Danny Zuko for you.”

“…obviously you’re Sandy.”

Eddie makes an offended noise.

“I could do end of the movie Sandy. But face it, baby, you’re the pretty, fresh-faced innocent and I’m the bad boy.”

Steve strangles back the sound he wants to make when his brain supplies him with an image of Eddie in those black, skin-tight pants.

“I could be a bad boy.”

Before Eddie can reply, the kids start shouting, and Eddie climbs on the wobbling card table, clapping his hands for attention.

“Jesus, Eds." He grabs Eddie’s ankle to keep him stable.

“I think a trip to the pumpkin patch is in order, what say you?”

There’s a blip where the whole room stills, every single one of them, aside from Eddie, remembering rotted fields and fetid tunnels filled with Upside Down spores and demo dogs.

“Oh, yeah, we don’t go to the pumpkin patch anymore. You know, since the tunnels—”

Steve shoots Dustin the most intense silencing looks he’s ever given anyone, which is really saying something.

They’d agreed, back in July that they would never tell Eddie what really happened at the mall. Eddie is too good, too gentle, brimming with too much pure kindness for Steve to want him anywhere near the Upside Down.

Eddie cackles. “Tunnels, Henderson?”

Lucas laughs, says, “He means the maze. Don’t you remember? They set it up one time a few years ago.”

“We got really lost. Took us hours to find the exit,” Dustin adds.

“Mike cried,” Lucas says.

“Hey! I did not!”

Mike’s anger at fake crying about a made-up crisis is enough to have them all in stitches, even Eddie who doesn’t know it’s a lie.

“What about that apple orchard?” Steve suggests.

Eddie pokes him in the cheek, excited. “Ooh, yes, apple orchard!?”

✏️✏️✏️✏️

The orchard is a mad dash of fighting over wheelbarrows, shrieking sprints into the trees, Steve stressing at the kids throwing themselves across branches with zero regard for personal safety.

Eddie nearly sends him into a coronary at the ripe old age of 19 by walking down a branch like he’s doing a tightrope.

“Munson! Get your ass down from there!”

“I’m fine, Stevie! I’ve got reflexes like a cat.”

“The hell you do!” Steve shouts as Eddie wobbles.

“Don’t worry, baby, I know you’ll always catch me,” Eddie yells back. He winks and Steve blushes about all of it.

“You’ll just get us both hurt,” he says right as Eddie shimmies easily back to the ground.

“You worry too much,” he scolds. “All this beautiful hair is going to go grey,” Eddie shuffles his fingers through the strands.

“You’re a menace,” he growls. Pushes Eddie playfully away.

They pick apples and drink cider and it’s the best time Steve’s had in a while. He kids are spread out around him, Eddie and Robin on the quest for an apple that’s perfectly red, like you could poison Snow White with it, and he’s content. Happy.

He lets himself bask in the moment, but it’s cut short by a familiar whooping yell and the crash of Eddie Munson clinging to his back.

He groans, almost loses his footing, but quickly hoists Eddie’s legs higher against his sides.

He runs and Eddie screams, giggling, and clutches his fists into the fabric of Steve’s sweater.

“Can’t believe you caught me, sweetheart,” Eddie says once Steve slows to a walk.

“I’ll always catch you, Eds,” he promises.

Eddie makes a little noise, almost like a whimper, pressing his cheek against Steve’s.

And for just a second, the barest hint of a moment in time, Steve swears he feels Eddie’s lips pressed against the sensitive skin right beneath his ear.

It’s right then that Steve knows he doesn’t just like Eddie. No, he’s positively, totally, and completely in love with him.

(Part 5)

Thank you all so much for your comments and reblogs and likes! I appreciate it more than I can say and am still so honored that so many people like this little series. Please let me know if I missed you in the tag list, and I'll make sure to get you added for future updates (I think we're looking at 3 more)!

@gaysonthefloor @little-gae-shit @ineffablecolors @mojowitchcraft @hiscrimsonangel @thegingerrapunzel @adelicioustragedy @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @im-sam-fucking-winchester @rainydays35 @gobbledy-gluk-gluk @gay-stranger-things @sherilitchi @gezell-igg @leather-and-freckles @bornonthesavage @ramyayaya @awkwardgravity1 @chaoticvictorianspirit @thosemessyvibes @beeing-stuupid @silentiumdelirium @freyaforestafay @thatbitchgayasf @sapphirecobalt-1 @sahh-dude @adorkfromnewyork @ollie-in-gray @extralegobrick @snapshotmaestro @fandomgenderz @nuttychaosface @thatcottagecorewitch @idoquitelikebread @shinekocreator @savveth @mackfrfr 0@yourebuckingkiddingme @steddieassheg0es @gamerdano @thebig-smoke @questionablequeeries @zerokrox-blog @thegingervulcan @charlies-candid-corner @perpetual-trashcan @sleepy-rainedrop @marvelous-musicals @hoffmannwrites @fromapayphone @courtjestermunson@juicinmyjams @daydreaming-mood @aceflavouredyougurt @emly03 @pille1983 @darcyshandflex @anteaterballs @adankrivervalleynearyou @didntwant2come @kittsu-makes-glass @alienace

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squishycheekanon · 3 months

Text

Limerence | Three

C H A P T E R T H R E E

limerence / lim-ê-rêns / (noun)

“Obsessive romantic attraction towards another person”

Summary: In which the owners of Jujutsu Incorporated, the Ôgami brothers, are suddenly interested in you.

Pairing: Alpha!Sukuna x reader, Alpha!Itadori x reader, Alpha!Gojo x reader, Alpha!Geto x reader, Alpha!Nanami x reader, Alpha!Kenjaku x reader

Status: Ongoing.

Genre: werewolf au, soulmate, polyamory relationship, angst, fluff, omegaverse, a/b/o dynamics.

Warnings: smut, violence, mentions of knotting, heats, ruts, insecurities, some descriptions of reader’s body, mention of possible ED, omegaspace, domdrop, swearing, blood, depression, suicidal thoughts, possessiveness, obsessive thoughts, Alpha tendencies.

Chapter Warnings: Omega’s being abused and killed, swearing, scent description, size difference - I’m not sorry Kenjaku is the biggest Alpha here and I’m not willing to argue about it, dark themes, Kenjaku kills someone but what else is new, self deprecation, anxiety attack, pup - yes that’s a warning.

Masterlist | Chapter two | Chapter four

Taglist: @better-imagination-9 @tiredjuniper @jjkz @honeybeeboobaa @cherryblossomdelusion @dependsonthedream @alluresenses @qardasngan @imcamboaf @ondragonhonour @misscaller06

Taglist is open.

————————————————————————

Previously on Limerence:

“I can’t do this!” You screeched hands gripping at your hair in frustration, “why would I of all people be gifted six alphas?!” You cried desperately wanting to know the answer. Gifted. He guesses that’s a good sign, at least you thought of a mate as a gift rather than a curse.

You blink up at both men and realise, your living room has never looked so small, they take up so much space. With just two of them the place is tiny, how’s it going to look with six of them? Your mind bounces around, worry still present and spinning you into a tizzy, yet you practically preen when Kenjaku’s eyes travel over you like he can see underneath your clothes. It makes a tense feeling in the pit of your stomach start to form, a feeling you’re not familiar with.

You suddenly wanted to be wrapped in their strong arms, you note that they both look like the warriors the news makes them out to be. Huge, brawny and very attractive. How were they yours? How were you worthy of this? And how were they going to ever love you when they find out what you did?

The world had changed a lot since 2013, the year werewolfs came into existence. Before they were just made up, thought to only exist in really bad movies paired with an emotionless vampire, that or Reddit forums.

Mass panic ensued with the werewolf epidemic but the world did what it had to and adapted. Around nine months later, Alphas began presenting. And the whole world literally went to shit. Going from humans to werewolves was one thing, everyone’s DNA literally changing yet people adapted. The world was still in the early stages of adaptation when suddenly men’s personalities, needs, desires, the way they think, eat, sleep. All of it, changed by becoming Alphas.

Their instincts were out of control. Being confused and unable to understand what was happening to them. However, trying their best, they continued to live their lives as usual. And as if it was a series of cruel tricks, the last trick was played on mankind, omegas began presenting. Once again things changed.

It had the Alphas going crazy. Omegas were pushed into heats the longer they spent around undated Alphas in an attempt to push out their pheromones so their mates could find them. This only made things worse. Dazed and delusional Omegas coming onto Alphas were beaten black and blue, some were killed. The Alpha’s inner wolves becoming angered by an Omega who wasn’t their mate trying to breed with them, this was left unchecked for far too long until Kento created Jujutsu Incorporated in 2017.

Kento remembers the exact moment he decided he was going to do something about the destruction that had befallen the world. The news was playing on the television, he and his brothers watching intensely as the news anchor reported that in the last week twenty seven Omegas had been abused and fourteen had been killed by unhinged Alphas. Kento ignored the jagged inhale from one of the pink haired men on the other sofa watching too, instead he got up and headed straight to his study. The idea had come to him and he had to write it down, he had to plan.

The company’s main purpose was to train Alphas to hone their werewolf instincts and abilities. For man to create a peaceful bond with beast in order to control them so the abuse of Omegas would be stopped. At first it was only worried parents sending their newly presented aggressive sons to the training compound thinking it was some sort of correctional facility and in a way it was.

Soon grown men decided signing up, then men who had committed crimes against Omegas were court sanctioned to go. Before long it became mandatory for every male who was of age to be sent there and trained. Now every year when Alphas present they are instantly signed up to be sent to Jujutsu Incorporated.

Seven years, fifty two awards, millions given by governments all over the world and some failed attempts from other companies to try and recreate what they made, later, Jujutsu Incorporated saved the world and they are thanked everyday for it.

While Sukuna and Kenjaku tried to calm you down and reason with you to meet the rest of the pack. Kento, Yuji, Suguru and Satoru were slowly, but surely, loosing it. The longer they were away from their mate after the bond snapped into place, the more aggressive they became. Their body temperatures rising, all their sweet scents turning sour as the stress increased.

Since Kento caught a whiff of your sweet vanilla-cinnamon scent on Sukuna’s clothes, he couldn’t get the sweet smell out of his head. He’d give anything to bury his face in it. It would be so much better than the awful smells surrounding him at this very moment. Baring in mind that on a good day Kento’s scent was usually the sweetest chocolate fudge cake, but with the growing need to have his mate with him not being sated, it had spiked to a burnt over cooked type smell. Yuji’s went from honeyed strawberry milk to wet dog. Suguru’s went from a delightful caramel coffee to rotten food. Satoru’s went from freshly baked cookies to sewers on a hot day.

The office reeked.

Kento felt the tension in the room, worry crawling up his throat as he had the realisation he might have to scruff one or two of his pack mates if they don’t calm down soon. There are several ways that pack alphas can control their packmates, with pheromones is one of them, but scruffing is easily the most effective. Scruffing is distinctly pack alpha behavior. The inherent dominance in one alphas pheromones over another is essential for a pack alpha.

He remembers growing up he was never really the leader type, instead he was rather shy and withdrawn. He didn’t have many friends nor did he wish to make any, much preferring to be alone with a good book. Kento became even more withdrawn when his father died of a heart attack. It was a shock to the system and instead of the brothers banding together to help one another grieve they all mourned alone.

When Kento made the change into a werewolf he loved it, becoming a werewolf only amplified who he already was yet somehow when he discovered his role as packleader he stepped into it like he was born to lead. Kento figured out his role in the pack when Yuji and Satoru were scrapping each other and it got a bit too violent. Without meaning to he used his Alpha tone on the boys and they instantly stopped to obey him. It was strange, the brothers tried to use their own Alpha tones on each other though the experiment had no results. Only Kento could do it.

Another reason Kento loved being a werewolf was that it brought his broken family back together as one. As a pack. They lived together, ate together, trained together, shifted together and ran together as one. It gave him a profound sense of love and happiness that he was able to have his brothers back in his life, though there was always something missing. You.

Kento had to pacify his desire to run out of the room straight to you. He was sick of waiting. His wolf just wanted to bring you to their house and give you everything you could ever want. You would never need to leave the nest he would lovingly watch you build. You would be provided for, protected, and sated, all while you’d have prettiest smile on your face. His wolf chirped happily simply thinking about being in your presence and caring for you. He was eager for you to be here with him.

And as if by magic, the office doors opened Sukuna strolling inside with a shit eating grin on his face, Kenjaku not far behind with the cutest little omega clinging onto the sleeve of his arm. You were here.

It wasn’t the sweet the way you were basically hiding behind his brother that disarmed him, it wasn’t even the way your pretty wide eyes stared up at him with a spec of fear shining in them. But smelling you in person, fuck, breathing in your invigorating scent the way he needed to, letting it swirl around him and leave him feeling hazy and high, all his thoughts disappearing. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

You do have to admit it was a rash decision to come here and meet the rest of the pack, it took a lot of convincing and encouragement by Sukuna and Kenjaku before you hesitantly said yes. And it was very hesitantly. The whole car ride there was silent, Kenjaku sitting in the back with you as Sukuna drove to Jujutsu Incorporated Headquarters. Subconsciously your omega was drifting towards the stoic black haired Alpha. Your Omega knowing that Kenjaku’s wolf was the scariest one out of the two just meant he was the best to protect you. His dominant aura was something you definitely didn’t want to mess with. So when you arrived and you were unsure wether you wanted to get out the car or not, all he had to do was offer his hand and send you a look and you were scrambling out of the car quickly grabbing onto him. He looked down at you letting out a grunt of disapproval when you let go of his large hand but seemed satisfied when you gripped onto the sleeve of his black leather jacket instead. You found yourself looking up at the big Alpha for his approval before you could stop yourself, even when you shook your head at yourself and looked away it was too late. Kenjaku had already grunted out a good pup that made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

The praise had you holding onto his jacket the whole walk to the elevator, the whole elevator ride and all the way into the office where you now stood trying to use Kenjaku’s big muscular body to hide from the four new pairs of eyes trying to catch a glimpse of you.

The fact that you, such a fragile small thing compared to him, was using him as a shield instead of running scared from him was baffling. Kenjaku was never a very nice guy, even as a child he was dubbed as the emo kid who you should never approach. Always getting into fights at school and that was before his father died, Kenjaku only go worse when he did.

And when Kenjaku became a werewolf he was even more violent than before, his vicious tendencies heightened along with his senses. He remembers all the bar fights, forest fights, street fights he go into finding a thrill within the rage. The night more vivid than all the fights though, was the night he killed another Alpha. And liked it.

It had been an accident, the man had started a fight with him and he was clearly drunk. Sober Kenjaku had only tried to defend himself but after pushing the drunken werewolf away he kept going, it snapped something in Kenjaku and he saw red. He beat the man to death and his wolf glowed with pride, the primal instinct to be the top Alpha male coming to light. He didn’t want to like it, but he did. That night he had buried the man in the forest with his bare hand, hours later he returned home caked in dirt, blood and sweat. He confessed to his brothers what he had done.

From then on he trained with Sukuna who taught him control over his wolf and his aggressive side, spending years dedicated to learning to control himself, still Kenjaku is easily the scariest and strongest Alpha in the pack. That’s why he was made The Ghost, The Shadow, The man behind the scenes who takes care of troubled Alphas. Also taking care of any crimes or accusations against the company.

The Killer Alpha. And you were choosing him to cling to, to protect you, this had his chest puffing out with pride. The little Omega and the big bad Alpha.

You were completely stuck to Kenjaku’s side as you started to let your anxiety turn your mind against you. These men were your mates? They all wanted you? Impossible. You couldn’t do this. Fuck sake, you had taken a big step coming here and you were just back to where you had started an hour ago. A numb feeling taking over you, your brain’s way of saving you from the stress of this situation.

The big man you were clinging to was towering over you with worried eyes as your short panicked breaths filled the room. “Princess?”

“Is she okay?”

“Are you okay?”

“Bunny you good?”

You were clearly having a moment of panic, not answering any of them. Their questions making you more antsy by the second. Everything felt like it was upside down at this very moment in time. Like the world was spinning.

Your other hand came up to grip onto Kenjaku’s jacket, desperately trying to use it to ground yourself. “Fuck I-“ you shivered, stumbling over your words as your couldn’t breathe properly.

“What is it pup? Hmm, what do you need princess?” Kenjaku remembered your reaction to the pet name from earlier instantly stepping into roll as the Alpha you needed surprising his brothers though they all knew with you around now, they’d be displaying sides of themselves they’ve never seen of each other before.

“I-I can’t,” you shook your head falling to your knees, Kenjaku fell with you holding you up, “I. I c-can’t, I can’t, I can’t do this.” You hiccuped at the end of your broken sentence, your fingers gripping so tightly onto the Alpha while your whole body shook.

“I know.” His words had your head shooting up, tear filled eyes meeting his, “but I’m going help you. If this is too much, then we will only do what you’re comfortable with. We just want to make you happy pup.” His body made him say the words, and he was glad it did. You were nodding as you listened, eyes focusing on every detail on his face while he spoke, his brown almond shaped eyes, sloped nose, the light freckles under his eyes, his plump lips.

“I don’t know how.” There was a hidden meaning behind it and all six alphas desperately wanted to know but they knew now was not the time. They could wait. Right now they had to focus on calming you down, getting you to relax.

Kenjaku felt his heart ache at the sight of your wobbly bottom lip all jutted out, you tear filled eyes and red face. You were so precious. Then and there he swore to protect you at all costs, even if he had to sell his soul, as long as you were safe. That’s all that mattered to him. “It’s okay pup, I’ll show you how.”

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