#my writings
auntvamp · 11 hours ago
dwayne scent marking i’m begging on my knees
HELLO MY LOVE *blows a kiss to you*
No no. I’m on my knees but uh. Serving for you 🧎‍♀️
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Dwayne x gn! reader
Dwayne’s hands caressed your ass as he pushed you against that back wall in a dimly lit bar. His needy mouth devouring yours in the heated kiss that had both of you panting and nearly de-clothed. Tongues tainted with alcohol and spirits. His long member fought with yours in the battle of dominance, his occasional low grunting kept your knees weak as he pushed against you harder, grinding his hardened member into your crotch and thigh. Just waiting to bust out and claim what he owned.
“Fuck baby, you get me goin’ so good sometimes. You intoxicatin’ me with your smell. Damn I’d be on my knees for you” he purred as he pulled away to look at you, his hips pinning you to that wall. His blown out eyes took you in. Looking you up and down as a string of saliva dripped down his chin from your “battle”. His lips plump from yours.
“Let them know who I belong too” you hummed to him, thinking he’d mark you with hickeys as one would. But— the vampire had other ways of marking you as his. To all unnatural creatures and beings that walked the earth. That you belonged to him, a vampire and that you were more than protected by him. You were bound to him in more sacred ways than any human could possibly know. By heart and mind.
Dwayne shoved his face into the crevice of your neck taking a deep breath of you in as he started to rub his face against you, your hands immediately shot into his hair as the new sensation brought a warmth into your core that was foreign. Something that didn’t feel human yet felt so. Intoxicating.
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metamorphesque · 2 months ago
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— a girl is a haunted house, tathève simonyan
[text ID: “I could’ve lived like this”, echoed in my head. / As I looked around, my eyes unthinkingly clung to places where I could’ve hidden my selves: the ones that didn’t come to being and the one that I was. In the cupboards of this kitchen I could’ve buried all the women I could’ve grown into. While doing so, I would’ve put on the apron of the one who inhabited the kitchen. The cups and the glasses would’ve made place for me. I could’ve easily found a home in between the kitchen table and refrigerator. As the fragrance of rosemary and thyme found their way to me, a picture found its way to the back of my eyes: a hushed scene, full of contentment, a shot of me standing in the center of this kitchen, feet thick brown trucks giving birth to dozens of snakelike radixes, covered in colorful moss, devoid of flowers but who needs flowers when all they do is wilt anyway? I would’ve thought so, had I been the me of that frame. / I could’ve been content here, not happy, but content. The cutlery and the plates would’ve made place for me. The dull roar of the washing machine would’ve hidden my cries, with the same diligence it sheltered my mother’s. The “what ifs” of this particular scenario smelled of cinnamon and vanilla. / I could’ve been content here. I thought as I placed the coffee cup on the countertop next to the gas stove: the surface always wet for it filled the space between the sink and the stove, in between water and fire.  / I could’ve been content here. I repeated as I unscrewed the lid of the coffee jar and took out a spoonful of the umber powder. / While turning on the gas and putting the cezve on its designated place, I cursed the mind that yearned for more, yearned to be more than what it was supposed to be. I cursed the eyes that only saw what was not in front of them, hands that wished to touch what wasn’t theirs to touch and the tongue that longed to taste what wasn’t hers to taste. I cursed myself because I understood that I could’ve been content here, and as the umber froth fought its way to the surface, my tears caved in to the gravitational force.]
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the-wild-wolves-around-you · 2 months ago
tell me we'll never get used to it
Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader; Eddie Munson/You
Summary: Sequel to "i can't carry it for you, but i can carry you," but this one can technically be read as a standalone.
Set a few weeks after the finale, you and Eddie are finally healed enough from your ordeals to have sex. You both get a little stoned on California weed, and then Eddie confesses to you that not only is he a virgin, he's also self-conscious of the scars the demo-bats gave him. So you seek to reassure him, remind him how much you love him, with both your words and your body.
Rating: E(xplicit). Minors DNI
Warnings: smoking/shotgunning weed, smut, virgin!eddie munson, loss of virginity, oral sex (f/m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, creampie, praise kink, dirty talk, pet names, riding, scars, self-confidence issues
A/N: I started this fic with the intention of making something quick and smutty, and then it turned into... this. And this fic stems from my deep seated belief that Eddie Munson deserves to get really high and have really tender loving sex, and since the Duffers are cowards, I did it myself. Also, as much as I love bad boy, sex-god Eddie, I just head cannon Eddie Munson as a virgin because come on, lol, he's a DnD nerd who plays in a "weird" band, sells drugs, and failed senior year twice. I love him with all my heart, but the boy has never gotten his dick wet lmao
(And, yes, I took the title from a Richard Siken poem, sue me)
Ao3 Link: Here
“‘Kay, kids, I think it’s time to pack it in,” Steve said as he stood up and clapped his hands.
“What?!” Mike, Lucas, Dustin, and Will protested in unison, snapping their heads up from where they were crowded around your long coffee table.
“We’ve barely even started,” Mike argued as his eyebrows furrowed sharply.
“Yeah, the sun hasn’t even set yet,” Dustin added, stabbing an accusatory finger at where the fading orange sunlight was filtering in through the living room window. “We’ve got like, at least thirty, thirty-five minutes before we need to leave.”
“But we’ve been playing for hours,” Robin groaned as she flopped over on the couch, into the space Steve had just vacated. “I’m bored.”
“You’re only bored because you died,” Dustin shot back. “By tripping off a cliff, I might add, which I’m still not sure how you did that…”
“And this is nothing,” Nancy scoffed from beside Robin. “Mike once ran a marathon forty-eight hour session in our basement, starting Friday and going all through the weekend. That room smelled disgusting by Sunday night.”
“Shut. Up. Nancy!” Mike was sitting cross-legged on the floor, and he turned and scowled at his sister over his shoulder. He was blushing, and when El giggled from where she was leaning against Mike’s opposite shoulder, he only blushed harder.
“Only telling the truth,” Nancy said as she raised her hands.
“I believe you,” Steve muttered and then ducked when Dustin threw a six-sided die at him. “Hey! That’s it! Party’s over. It’s past your bedtimes, so pack up all your little toys and dolls.”
“Hey, no need to disrespect the game, Harrington,” Eddie said from behind you.
He was sitting in the recliner your mom’s boyfriend bought only a few months ago, and he looked every inch like a king on his throne when you glanced up at him from where you were sitting— also cross-legged —between his feet. Since he’d been discharged from the hospital, he hadn’t let you leave his side, and he always had to be touching you, not that you were complaining. Right now, both of his legs were pressed against the outside of your arms, and one of his hands was idly playing with your hair.
“I have respect for the game,” Steve huffed with his hands on his hips, like a disgruntled mother. “But like Robin said, it’s been hours, and you know Agent Mustache gets pissed when we’re not back in our homes by sunset.”
All at once, the teasing atmosphere in your living room evaporated, and you watched as everyone’s smiles slowly faded.
It had been three weeks since everything went to shit. Three weeks since Hawkins was split in half by the Upside Down’s gates. In those three weeks, a lot had changed. For one, Hawkins felt like a ghost town now. Most people had either fled or been evacuated. But there were still a few hold outs: a couple of simply stubborn people who didn’t like being told what to do, a handful of others who just had nowhere else to go, and some old men and women who’d been born in Hawkins and planned to die there, too.
And, of course, the families of the kids in this room. El had needed to stay to deal with the gates, and Mike of course wasn’t leaving her, which meant neither were Dustin, Lucas, and Will. Steve, Nancy, and Robin felt like they needed to protect the kids, and you and Eddie had already given a pound of flesh to the cause, so what was a little more?
The government hadn’t been too happy with the number of liabilities left on their hands, but Mike pointed out that he and his friends had already broken into a secret lab and a Russian spy operation, so slipping back into Hawkins would have been child’s play. The government just gave up trying to make them leave after that.
Instead, they’d instated a curfew. A heavily enforced curfew. Soldiers armed with flamethrowers roamed the barren and broken streets of Hawkins at all times, but at night the patrols doubled, bright headlights sweeping the darkness for anything that moved.
Surprisingly, nothing had happened yet. In fact, it had been relatively quiet. The gates were still a ghostly specter that haunted the town, spewing forth ash and killing all plant life within a certain radius. But nothing else had come through the portals. No demo-dogs, or bats, no Demogorgons, nothing. El and Will said it felt like Vecna was biding his time, licking his wounds, preparing for his next big move, so everyone was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
But there were only so many strategy meetings a group of teens could sit through, only so much prep and training they could do. Sometimes, everyone just needed a break, a few hours to not think about monsters, or the world ending, or the fact that Max still hadn’t woken up, no matter how hard El tried to reach her.
And that’s where Eddie Munson came in. Eddie, with his infectious smile and enthusiasm, his elaborate storytelling skills that ensnared his audience and made the real world just fall away. Everyone had become an honorary member of the Hellfire Club, even Steve “the Hair” Harrington. Not everyone was particularly good, but it was a fun way to pass the time, a nice reprieve from all the life-and-death situations this group somehow always found themselves in.
But now, reality had come calling once again.
“Ugh, way to kill the mood, Steve,” Dustin sighed, breaking the morose silence as he flopped back onto the carpeted floor.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m the bad guy.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Blame me all you want, but we still gotta get going.”
The kids all grumbled as they started packing up, and as if on cue, Jonathan suddenly came stumbling in through the back door off the kitchen, coughing and watery-eyed. He’d excused himself about half an hour ago, and it wasn’t hard to tell what he’d been doing on your back porch.
“Hey, guys are we, uh, heading out soon?” he drawled. “Sun’s setting.”
He blinked slowly at everyone, and you saw Will roll his eyes, which made Mike, Lucas, and Dustin stifle snorts. Then Dustin got this mischievous look you knew too well, and he turned to Jonathan with a startled expression.
“What are you talking about, dude?” the kid asked. “We’ve been here all night, that’s the sunrise.”
Jonathan balked and snapped his head toward the window, which caused the whole room to break out in laughter. Blushing, the older Byers rubbed the back of his head, and Nancy smiled as she walked over, placed her hand on his arm, and murmured something to him in a reassuring cadence.
You didn’t know what was going on with Nancy and her so-called boyfriend, especially with the way Steve was staring at the pair of them, but you were a professional at minding your own damn business, so you turned away from them, craned your neck back, and looked up at Eddie behind you.
“That was a good session, Munson,” you said, smiling up at him as you leaned your temple against his knee.
“I know.” He smirked, but then he narrowed his eyes at you. “Wait, why do you sound surprised? All of my sessions are good sessions, Obi. You might be a Jedi Master, but I am the Dungeon Master.”
Even after all this time, that stupid nickname he gave you made butterflies erupt in your belly.
“Of course.” You nodded, making sure you face was very serious. “You are the Dungeon Master to end all Dungeon Masters. No one can hold a candle to your genius.”
“That’s more like it,” Eddie said with a pleased expression, and he wrapped a lock of your hair around his finger. His eyes were dark and deep as he stared down at you, but his touch was soft when his thumb brushed the side of your face.
You leaned into his hand with a sigh, but the moment was abruptly broken by Dustin making a gagging noise.
“Ugh, get a room you two,” he groaned.
You whipped your head around and raised an eyebrow at him.
“Um, this is my house, Henderson,” you reminded him. “And didn’t your babysitter say it was time to go, anyway?”
Dustin made an affronted noise, and you laughed as you stood up and stretched your back. But before you could move to help pick up some of the various snack bowls scattered around the living room floor, two hands suddenly snaked around your waist, tugging you backward.
“Munson!” you gasped as you fell into his lap, the chair rocking back from your added weight. You turned your head to chide him, but then Eddie seized your lips, one of his hands coming up to cup the back of your head.
Instantly, the living room, your friends, and the rest of the world faded around you. Eddie had this… magnetism about him or something. Every time he looked at you, touched you, especially kissed you, it was like nothing else existed except the two of you. Now wasn’t any different, and you sighed as you opened your mouth to his probing tongue.
But all too soon, he pulled away, and when your eyes fluttered open, he was smirking.
“Okay, yup, time to go,” you distantly heard Steve mutter, followed by a chorus of agreements.
“Heh, worked like a charm,” Eddie whispered in your ear, and you knew he was just joking around, but his warm breath brushing your skin made you shiver.
You didn’t want to completely embarrass yourself in front of your friends, though, so you shook your head to clear it, pushed yourself off Eddie’s lap, and walked everyone to the door. The sun was just starting to dip below the tree line, and you could see a government Jeep roll by the end of the street, but everyone lived pretty close, so they should able to beat curfew.
Nancy and Mike climbed into Nancy’s car to head back to the Wheelers’, and Steve was practically the designated carpool, so he was dropping off Robin, Lucas, and Dustin. Jonathan was taking Will and El back to the combined Hopper-Byers residence, and even though his eyes were still bloodshot, you knew Jonathan was a cautious driver and would get them all home.
Maybe just a little bit slower than everyone else.
You stood on your front porch and waved goodbye until the last car slipped out of sight, and you fought back a yawn as you dropped your arm. Then your eyes trailed to the reddish sky, searching the streaks of black clouds that perpetually hovered over the gates.
It felt so strange to be living a somewhat normal life with the apocalypse hanging over everyone’s neck, but what else were you supposed to do?
“Obiii-wannn.” Eddie’s singsongy voice pulled you from your thoughts, and his arms wrapped around your waist as he tugged you back against his chest. Then he pressed a kiss to your hair and rested his chin on the top of your head. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“All the shit rolling around up here would definitely cost more than a penny,” you snorted and leaned back into him.
“Ah, well, never mind then, cuz I’m broke.”
You laughed as you turned in the circle of his arms, and the lopsided grin you loved so much was beaming down at you. You rose up on your tiptoes to kiss him, but before your lips could meet, the sharp honk of a car horn blared behind you, making you jump.
Glancing over your shoulder, you saw one of the government Jeeps stopped in the middle of the street in front of your house, and the soldier in the passenger seat gave you a pointed look through the open window.
You blushed as you fell back on your heels, but Eddie just wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against his side.
“Evenin’, gentlemen,” he called out as he put two fingers to his forehead in a jaunty salute. “We were just heading inside. Keep up the good work!”
The soldiers seemed unimpressed with him, but Eddie just snickered as he turned and steered you back into the house.
“Tough crowd,” he said as you shut and locked the door behind you.
Since the town still needed power, and since he was used to the hours, Wayne had continued to work nightshifts— with ample guards, of course— so he wouldn’t be home until after dawn, and he had a copy of the key to let himself in.
“I don’t know why you have to antagonize them,” you sighed, referring to the soldiers, as you turned to your boyfriend.
“Because it’s funnnn.” Eddie grinned, and he reached out to pull you against him again. “And I’ll take all the fun I can get these days.”
You didn’t blame him for that.
Still, you playfully rolled your eyes as you pulled away. Eddie made a whining noise in the back of his throat and grabbed after you, but you batted his hands back.
“Help me pick up first,” you chuckled. “Then you can Velcro yourself to me while I warm up dinner.”
“Nooo, let’s just pick up everything later,” Eddie said with a cajoling grin.
“And let Wayne trip over all this shit in the morning when we inevitably forget and fall asleep?” You raised an eyebrow and gestured to the living room floor, which was still strewn with snacks and the various odds and ends that came with every DnD session.
“Fine,” Eddie pouted, but then he got a mischievous glint in his brown gaze. “That just means you’ll have to wait longer for my surprise.”
You couldn’t help it. Your curiosity was piqued.
“What surprise?” you asked as you narrowed your eyes at him.
“That’s not how surprises work, Obi.” He smirked and wagged a finger at you, spinning on heel. “You’ll just have to wait and see now. Cleaning up comes first after all. It’s so very important.”
You knew that when Eddie got like this, he would tease you to the point of torture. He would pick up one paper, one stray chip at a time just to drag it out until you eventually broke and gave in to his demands.
“I am a hostage living in my own home,” you muttered, bending down to pick up an empty bowl covered in Dorito-dust fingerprints.
“How’s that Stockholm Syndrome treating you, baby?” Eddie asked with a wink, and you turned away from him so he couldn’t see your stupid, dopey smile.
God, you loved him. Even when he was being annoying.
Thankfully, he didn’t seem in the mood to torture you too much tonight, because he helped you pick up relatively quickly. He did distract you several times by brushing up against you on his way to the kitchen, and then twice just to full on kiss you, but eventually the living room floor was no longer a death trap. You’d mostly just stacked the mess in different places— empty bowls on the kitchen counter, and DnD supplies on a living room end table— but at least it wasn’t underfoot anymore.
And it wasn’t like your mom or her boyfriend were here to bitch at you, anyway.
“Alright, Munson,” you said, and you turned to him and placed your hands on your hips. “What’s this surprise?”
“Aw, I think you can ask a little nicer than that, sweetheart,” Eddie teased as he faced you in the middle of your living room. His dark-brown eyes were dancing with a playful delight, and he tapped the fingers of his right hand against his lips, like he was trying to hide his shit-eating grin.
He wasn’t successful.
But two could play this game.
You dropped your arms from your hips and slowly sauntered up to him, closing the distance in three strides. Some of the cockiness went out of his gaze the closer you got, and once you came to a stop in front of him, you slowly wound your arms around his neck, pressing your chest into his. Then you rose up on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against the shell of his ear.
“Pretty please?” you breathed, punctuating the question with a flick of your tongue against his earlobe.
Eddie groaned deep in his chest, and you knew you’d won.
Smirking, you dropped back onto your heels, but Eddie latched his hands onto your hips to keep you from pulling away. When he looked down at you, his eyes were narrowed, and his lips were pressed into a thin line.
“You are evil,” he deadpanned. “Evil Obi. You might have all the others fooled, but I can see the horns holding up your halo.”
You grinned, stuck your tongue out, and lifted your hands up to your head in the symbol for horns, copying a face Eddie had made many times.
It worked like a charm, because the fake-hardness to his expression melted, and he bent down to slant his mouth over yours.
“Is this my surprise?” you giggled against his lips. “Not that I’m complaining, but it isn’t exactly a surprise when you kiss me every five minutes.”
“Five minutes?” Eddie gasped, pulling away from you with wide eyes. “Shit, I’m way off schedule. No way am I gonna make my daily quota now.”
You giggled again and playfully shoved his shoulder. “I’m serious. You have me dying with curiosity now. What’s the surprise?”
“Well, we definitely can’t have you dying,” Eddie said with a smirk, and one of his hands left your hip to dig around the back pocket of his jeans. After a moment of rummaging, he withdrew his hand with a flourish and dangled something in between your faces. “Ta-da!”
You blinked and leaned back a little to bring the object into focus, but the smell hit you before your brain processed what was in the small plastic baggie.
“No way,” you murmured, reaching up for the bag of weed. “Where the hell did you get this?”
The two of you hadn’t smoked anything besides cigarettes in weeks. Eddie had suggested maybe going back out to Rick’s to see if the drug dealer had anything stashed since Rick himself was still in jail, but Lover’s Lake was a hot zone with Watergate being in the center of it, so neither you nor Eddie wanted to take the risk for a little grass.
“I have my ways,” Eddie said as he tugged the bag out of your reach. “A good man never reveals his sources, like a magician never reveals his tricks.”
You raised an eyebrow at him and crossed your arms over your chest, and he caved in less than thirty seconds.
“Alright, twist my arm, damn,” he grumbled. “IIIII might have told Byers— the older one— that my pain levels have been… higher than they actually are, and he was a good enough friend to give me some primo pain management all the way from California.”
“Munson!” you gasped, your tone half scandalized, half amused. “You conned Jonathan out of what is probably the last of his Cali stash?”
“It was for a good cause!”
“And what cause is that?” you asked as you tried to keep from laughing, but it was hard when Eddie was standing there pouting like an innocent puppy while holding a bag of illicit substances.
“Becauseeeee… I wanted to get high with you?” Eddie replied with a sheepish smile. “And I think I deserve it after being such a brave hero, don’t you?”
“You’re really going to milk that forever, aren’t you?” you deadpanned, but secretly you were happy that he saw himself as you did, even if just a little, even if he tried to make it a joke.
“Forever and ever, baby.” He grinned before shaking the bag at you. “So, what do you say, Obi? Do you want to enjoy your surprise, or do you want to be a goody two shoes and give Byers back his weed?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look conflicted, but really, there was no question.
“Fine.” You snatched the bag out of his hand while his grin widened. “But I’m rolling. You always make them too fat.”
“No such thing,” Eddie snickered, but he dutifully followed you back to your bedroom.
You went over to your desk while Eddie sauntered over to the bed. Before your mother left, you always kept your papers and lighters hidden deep in a junk drawer, or even in the floorboards after David moved in and started giving you shit when you came home from Eddie’s smelling particularly skunky. But now she and David were gone, and Wayne honestly didn’t give a shit. He even sometimes smoked a bit himself to deal with the pain that came from working in a powerplant for thirty odd years. So, your tray was just sitting in the corner of your desk, and you pulled it towards you as you flicked on the lamp in the opposite corner.
Behind you, Eddie had grabbed his guitar from the side of the bed and was idly strumming out the riff of a Motorhead song. Gareth had given him a small amp after the Munson trailer was destroyed, but Eddie was always respectful and kept the volume at a tolerable level, unless you asked him to crank it up. It might be strange to some, but you found the heavy rock chords soothing, and you hummed along absently as you picked up your grinder.
“Obiiiii,” Eddie sing-songed from the bed behind you, and he suddenly paused his strumming.
“I haven’t even started yet, Munson,” you said without looking back at him. “Patience.”
“But why are you allllll the way over there?” he asked, and you could just imagine the pout on his face. “Just come roll it on the bed.”
“You know that never ends well,” you snorted, shooting a look at him over your shoulder. And yup, he was pouting. “We always end up spilling it, and I am not picking crumbs out of my carpet and wasting what little we have.”
“We don’t always spill it,” Eddie argued, but when you just cocked an eyebrow at him, he huffed. “Okay, maybe, like, eighty percent of the time.”
“So basically always.” You shook your head and faced forward again, opening the bag of weed and trying not to greedily inhale like a crazy person. God, you’d missed smoking. Your anxiety had been through the roof this past week as everyone waited for the other shoe to drop. You just wanted one night to not think about it. “Just give me five minutes, and I’ll come join you.”
“That’s soooo long, though,” Eddie groaned from behind you. “I don’t know if I’ll make it that long.”
You glanced at him again to see he’d sprawled back dramatically on your pillows, his guitar laying across his chest. He was staring at you with those puppy dog eyes again, but your gaze got sidetracked by the sliver of pale skin just visible between the hem of his black hoodie and the tops of his black and torn jeans— both hand-me-downs from Jonathan, though Eddie was a bit taller. Heat bloomed to life in the pit of your gut, but it was quickly extinguished when you saw the edge of a pink and still-healing scar.
That night, filled with blood and the shrieking of bats, suddenly filled your mind, and now you wanted to be close to him, too, to feel him pressed against you, warm skin and beating heart.
You didn’t say anything as you turned back to the desk, quickly gathered your tray and supplies, and stood from your chair. You crossed the room in two strides, but instead of sitting on the bed itself, you sat on the floor between the wall and the side of the bed. Pressing back against the mattress with Eddie’s legs dangling to the left of you, you stretched out your own legs and set the tray of supplies between your thighs.
“Wait, are you telling me that worked?” Eddie laughed from the bed above you.
“Hush, I’m working,” you muttered, but you leaned your shoulder into the side of his leg to quell the latent panic still haunting the corners of your brain.
He was fine. He was sitting right here beside you, alive, and the two of you were going to get high, so all was right with the world.
You repeated these things to yourself as you slowly ground up some of Jonathan’s weed, but almost like he could hear your thoughts, Eddie suddenly swung himself upright. Then he slid down to sit beside you on the floor, leaving his guitar against your pillows. His legs were longer than yours, so when he stretched them out, his toes brushed the edge of the wall in front of you.
“That’s better,” Eddie sighed as he leaned against you, settling his right hand on top of your thigh.
It was still strange to see his fingers bare, but the ring he previously wore on that hand was now perched on your middle finger, the black stone clicking off the grinder as you turned it. He’d given it to you a few days after he got out of the hospital, at first just lying on your couch with his head in your lap and playfully stacking his rings on your fingers. Most of them were too big, but the gemstone one fit, and he’d grinned so wide when he told you to keep it that you couldn’t deny him.
After a moment, Eddie started idly tugging at the dangling strings of your jean cutoffs, and his touch distracted you enough that you almost dropped the grinder and spilled everything.
“Munson.” You shot him a quick glare, and he grinned, stilling his hand but not taking it away.
“Sorry, princess,” he said. “I’ll be good.”
“I highly doubt that,” you muttered as you carefully opened the grinder, set it on the tray, and reached for the rolling papers.
“I take offense, dear Obi,” Eddie gasped, and his hand squeezed around the meat of your thigh, his thumb slipping under the hem of your shorts.
Your breathing stuttered as the papers crinkled in your hands, and you shot the dark-haired bastard another heated look.
Eddie glanced down at his hand like it wasn’t his, and then he moved it further down toward your knee and shot you another disarming smile.
“Okay, now, I’ll be good,” he said.
You shook your head but didn’t respond this time, instead focusing on the task at hand. Very slowly and very carefully, you bent one of the rolling papers into a shallow trench and then tapped some of the ground-up weed out of the grinder and into the paper. By some miracle, you didn’t spill any, and you set down the grinder and capped it before you started rolling the actual joint. Once you were satisfied by the overall size and shape, you brought the joint up to your mouth and licked the edge, your fingers nimbly rolling the paper into a cylinder and twisting off the ends.
“Ta-da.” You smirked and flourished the joint as you looked up at Eddie, but your smugness evaporated in an instant.
Eddie was staring at you with such an intent expression that you felt naked. His pupils were dilated, turning his already dark eyes into pools of black that glimmered with something you couldn’t name, and his gaze was locked onto your lips. You also realized his hand had tightened around your thigh again, and your skin broke out into goosebumps.
“Um…” Your voice cracked, your mouth suddenly dry, and you snaked your tongue out to wet your lips, Eddie tracking the movement like a predator tracks its prey. “Munson?”
His named seemed to snap him out of hit, and his eyes flicked up to yours.
“What?” he asked. His voice was raspy, rough, like he’d swallowed nails and gravel.
“I, uh…” You fought to regain your composure and suddenly remembered the joint in your hand. “I finished. And I w-will say, it looks pretty perfect. Definitely not too fat.”
Eddie stared at you for a long moment before his gaze finally drifted to the joint between your fingers, and now that his eyes weren’t boring into yours anymore, you felt like you could breathe.
“Hmm, I’ll be the judge of that, Obi,” he said as he plucked the joint from your hand, his voice back to its usual teasing cadence. He narrowed his eyes at the joint, inspecting it from every angle at great detail and making exaggerated faces. After a few moments, he clicked his tongue and looked back at you, and the hint of a smirk was tugging at his lips. “Well, I don’t know about perfect, but it’s pretty good. A solid eight out of ten.”
“Excuse me?” you scoffed, playing along. “And where did I lose two points?”
“The ends are messy,” he said with all seriousness. “And since there are two ends, you lose two points.”
“Fine, then give it back.” You reached out for the joint. “I’ll smoke it all by myself, messy ends and all.”
“Well, now, let’s not be too hasty,” Eddie laughed, leaning back and extending his arm out of your reach. Then he pressed the fingers of his opposite hand to his ear and nodded like someone else was talking to him. “Wait, what’s that? I’m hearing from the other judges that your score has been reconsidered! Perfect ten out of ten.”
“That’s what I thought.” You smirked and sat back against the mattress, picking up the lighter from your tray and tossing it into his lap. “And because I’m so nice, I’ll even let you light it up.”
“Your charity knows no bounds, Obi.” Eddie stuck the end of the joint between his lips and grinned as he picked up the lighter. “One of the things I love most about you.”
His tone and expression were joking, but there was a genuine earnestness to his eyes that made your cheeks flush.
But then he was striking the lighter, bringing the flame to the tip of the joint, and inhaling. You watched his cheeks hollow, the tendons in his neck standing out in stark relief, and the sight made the heat in your face travel down to the rest of your body.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“Shit,” Eddie exhaled a few seconds later, smoke curling from his lips and rising to the ceiling. The acrid smell hit you like a wave, and already you felt your body relaxing.
No, you needed this.
“Don’t hog it, Munson,” you muttered, nudging your elbow into his arm. “Sharing is caring.”
“And you said I needed patience,” he teased but handed the joint over.
The second it was at your lips, you inhaled slowly, holding the breath deep in your lungs until spots of color began to dance in the corners of your vision. Then you exhaled all at once, a sharp release, and your ears rang slightly as you started to cough.
“Fuckkkk.” You dropped your head back against the edge of the bed. Tears blurred your view of the ceiling, but then you blinked, and drops of warm water trailed down your cheeks.
“I know, right?” Eddie snickered, taking the joint back from you. “This shit’s way better that what I got from Rick. I didn’t know Byers was such a connoisseur.”
“Connoisseur,” you echoed and then giggled. Your head already felt a little swimmy, but that might be from the coughing and lack of oxygen. “That’s a funny word.”
“Blame the French, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckled before he took another drag.
The two of you passed the joint for a few rounds, and you felt like you could melt into the carpet. Every knot in every muscle you had unwound bit by bit, and the horrors of the Upside Down and the impending future faded until they were nothing but a distant memory.
“Hey, Obi,” Eddie murmured what felt like minutes and hours later. “Pssst, Obi.”
“Hmmm?” you hummed, lolling your head to the side to look at him.
His face was less than a foot away, so close you could count every pore and laugh line, and his brown eyes were hooded and glassy as they skipped over your face. He was holding the still-smoking joint between his middle and index finger, like he would hold a cigarette, but when he caught your gaze, he shifted his grip so he was holding it more firmly between his index finger and thumb.
“Can I try something?” he asked, and there was a glint in his gaze that you knew you should be worried about, but you felt too relaxed to worry about anything right now. “There’s this thing I’ve always wanted to try…”
“Sure,” you mumbled, and Eddie grinned before he brought the joint to his mouth and inhaled again, the cherry on the end flaring orange.
Then he held the joint out of the way and leaned forward, and dull surprise sparked through your veins when his lips met yours.
You opened up to him instinctively, inhaling sharply just from his proximity, and Eddie seized the opportunity to shotgun the hit he’d taken into your mouth. Your eyes fluttered closed as his tongue chased the smoke past your teeth, and he flicked the point of it against the roof of your mouth before he pulled away.
You held your breath for as long as you could before exhaling, and when you opened your eyes again, Eddie’s gaze was locked on your face. His eyes were black once more, his head backlit by the lamp on the bedside table behind him, and you suddenly realized what that something in his gaze had been when he’d watched you roll the joint. Because it was there again.
Your stomach immediately bottomed out inside of you as every hair on your body stood on end.
It had been three weeks since Eddie woke up in the hospital, three weeks since the two of you confessed your feelings to each other, since he moved into your house. He even slept beside you in your bed every night. Not at first, of course. For the first two nights, he just “slept” on your living room couch while Wayne took the master bedroom. But by the third morning, you couldn’t ignore the dark bags under Eddie’s eyes any longer and so confronted him. He had eventually confessed that he hadn’t been sleeping much. Kept being woken up by nightmares and then panicking that something was in the house and running to check on you in your bedroom. You had laughed a little, then, to his confusion, and told him you’d been checking up on him, too, the pair of you seemingly missing each other like ships in the night. Hell, for all you knew, you were the ones waking each other up.
After that, Eddie moved into your bedroom for both your peace of minds, but like a gentleman, he tried to take the floor. He piled it with sheets and blankets and pillows, assuring you it was fine, but that lasted all of five minutes after the lights were dimmed.
(You never turned them out completely at night, both you and Eddie too uneasy in the dark.)
Emboldened by the shadows hiding your furious blush, you were the one who broke and asked him to just come lie in the bed with you, and after only a few beats, Eddie had slowly and quietly climbed up onto the mattress. He’d been stiff, stretched out beside you on his back, and in an effort to help him relax, you’d rolled on your side to face him, tentatively placing your hand on his chest to show him it was okay. He’d immediately subsided into the sheets, sighing, and turned his head to brush a kiss against your brow. And the two of you slept that night with no nightmares, for either of you.
Since then, you’d slept every night in the same bed as him, and more and more lately, you woke up with him wrapped around you, his front to your back, holding you tightly against his body.
But it had never been sexual. (Well, you had woken up a few times with his morning wood pressed against your back, but that didn’t count, that was just an…unconscious physiological response, and you always pretended to be asleep until he rolled out of bed to go to the bathroom.)
Either way, nothing had happened between you two except for a few heavy makeout sessions, and those never happened in your bedroom. The living room, the kitchen, the hallway, but never the bedroom. And whenever things got too heated, Eddie was always the first to pull away, to press one last kiss to your brow and step back, changing the subject to something innocuous.
You knew it had been because the two of you were so injured at first. You’d only ditched the sling a few days ago, and your arm was still sore, needing to be exercised every morning and night. Eddie had also recently received the all-clear from the doctors, and you wondered if he’d just been waiting to make sure neither of you got hurt.
The look in his eyes was definitely not hesitant now, and you felt your core throb in response.
A thousand thoughts tumbled through your brain like rocks in a dryer, a very slow dryer, because everything felt slow and languid around you, like it always did when you got high. Your skin was lightly buzzing, but your tongue was heavy in your mouth, and Eddie’s hungry gaze continued to pin you to the spot like a butterfly pinned beneath glass.
“Do you…” The words fell from your mouth unbidden, slow like molasses, but nervousness suddenly traced its hand down your spine, making you shiver.
“Do I… what?” Eddie murmured after a moment of silence. His voice was lower than usual, made rougher by the smoke, and you suddenly remembered the joint in his hand.
For courage, you leaned forward and plucked the remnants of the joint from between his fingers. There was maybe one good hit left, so you took it, the embers burning your fingertips as the smoke swirled into your mouth before you held it there. Then, as Eddie’s black eyes swallowed you whole, you bridged the distance between your lips and his. He opened dutifully beneath you, inhaling as you exhaled, and one of his hands came up and cradled your jaw, long fingers framing your face.
Once your lungs were emptied, you pulled back a fraction, and since you were feeling a little more brave, you trapped his lower lip between your teeth and tugged. You let him go just as quickly, but Eddie’s fingers had burrowed into your hair now, holding you in place.
Your eyes fluttered open— when had you closed them?— and you could see a tiny version of yourself reflected in Eddie’s wide pupils. Then he exhaled sharply, a curtain of smoke rising between your faces, and you were just about to pull further back when he lunged forward and smashed his mouth against yours.
His sudden ferocity startled a gasp out of you, and Eddie cupped your face more soundly as he leaned forward, his tongue delving past your lips and pulling up a moan from deep within your chest.
You had just enough sense left to drop the ashes of the joint on your tray before you were tangling both hands in Eddie’s hair and kissing him back with equal intensity. The rings on his left hand felt cold against your temple, your cheek, but everywhere else you felt hot, so hot. His mouth was like a furnace, a fiery brand, tasting of ash and smoke.
You were both gasping for breath every time your lips parted, but then one of you would dive back in for more, teeth and tongues clashing. When his left hand trailed from your cheek down to your neck, you thought you were going to combust, and then his other hand tiptoed up your thigh, and you knew you were going to burst into flame.
The apex of your thighs throbbed again when his fingers brushed the hem of your shorts, and you whimpered before you ripped your mouth away, gasping for breath and dropping your hands from his hair.
“Come back here,” Eddie muttered as he chased after you, but then he suddenly hissed and froze.
The pained note in his voice abruptly cleared some of the fog from your mind, and you blinked as your gaze zeroed in on him.
“Are—” God, your voice sounded wrecked. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie nodded, but his eyes were tightly closed as he faced forward and leaned back against the bed again. “Just… twisted a little too far.”
His right hand ghosted over his side, and you chewed on your swollen lower lip.
“Sorry,” you murmured, guilt stabbing through you. He was still healing, and here you were being a horny mess.
Eddie opened the eye closest to you, and then, when he saw your expression, he opened the other and turned his head to face you.
“Nothing you should be apologizing for, princess,” he said, and his smile turned a little sheepish before he continued. “That was… so fuckin’ hot.”
His voice took on that gravelly quality again, and you could feel slickness pool in your panties.
“Yeah,” you breathed, the filter between your mind and mouth nonexistent, shrouded by smoke and the buzzing feeling in your veins. “It was.”
Hunger flashed in Eddie’s gaze again, and he reached his arm out to you.
“Come here,” he muttered, flexing his fingers in a grabby motion.
“I’m sitting right next to you,” you said, but you didn’t fight it when his fingers gently latched onto your wrist.
“Not close enough.” Eddie pouted at you, tugging your arm.
You were half turned anyway, so you kneeled and shifted to fully face him, shuffling forward until your knees were pressed to the outside of his thigh.
“Closerrrrr,” he hummed and tugged at you again.
You realized he wanted you to straddle his lap, and a wave of heat washed over you from head to toe.
“I-I don’t want to hurt you again,” you tried to argue.
“You didn’t hurt me in the first place, Obi,” he said with a lopsided smile, the one that always tore down all of your defenses. “I just turned in a weird way. Buttttt, if you’re sitting right in front of me…”
He yanked at your arm a third time, and to keep from falling over, you clumsily slung a leg over his lap. Once you regained your balance, you hovered over him with your knees digging into the carpet on either side of his thighs, and he grinned up at you.
“Now I don’t have to turn at all,” Eddie finished, sounding proud of himself, but it was hard to be angry at him when his hands were settling on your hips, thumbs rubbing at the jut of your hip bones through your shorts.
“That’s… good,” you said. The slow-firing synapses in your brain were unable to come up with anything else.
“Doing okay there, sweetheart?” he asked as he smiled up at you. His thumbs were still stroking your hips, slowly driving you insane.
Your mouth was so dry, but you swallowed as best you could and nodded.
“Yeah,” you murmured, but then you wobbled on your knees and had to put your hands on his shoulders for balance.
“You sure?” Eddie chuckled before he tugged on your hips. “Why don’t you sit back a bit, Ms. Weeble-Wobble.”
You slowly sat back on his thighs, careful to not crush his legs, and Eddie smiled when you were at eye level.
“Hi,” he said, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to the tip of your nose.
“Hi,” you giggled back, and then giggled again as you settled more comfortably on his thighs. “Shit, this stuff is good. I feel like I could float away.”
“Yeah, we’re definitely moving to California,” Eddie snickered and squeezed his hands over your hips. “And don’t worry. I’ll keep you anchored, princess.”
“You always do,” you sighed, and something flashed in the dark depths of his bloodshot eyes, but it was gone just as fast, fleeting and mercurial.
“What were you going to ask me before?”
“Huh?” You blinked to focus on his face a little better, and Eddie was staring at you intently.
“You started to ask me something before you took that last hit,” he clarified. “You said, ‘Do you…?’”
You frowned as you tried to remember, wading through smoke and the memories of his mouth hot against yours. Then you suddenly recalled why you’d taken that last hit in the first place, and your face burned with embarrassment.
“I don’t remember… it was nothing,” you said, squirming in his lap and then stopping when the movement pressed the seam of your shorts into your clit.
Fuck, when did you get so wet?
“Well, that’s not contradictory,” Eddie teased. “Which is it, Obi? You don’t remember, or it was nothing?”
“It was stupid,” you amended and refused to meet his eyes, staring instead at a spot on the bed above his shoulder.
“I highly doubt that,” he scoffed, but when you stayed silent, he reached out, gently took your chin between his thumb and index finger, and turned you to face him. He was still smiling gently, but his eyes were serious. “Nothing you say or do could ever be stupid.”
The sincerity in his face and voice made you blush even deeper, and you wished he would just drop it, but Eddie Munson was like a dog with a bone when he wanted something, and he stared at you patiently as he waited for you to respond.
“Fine, it’s… embarrassing,” you huffed, and you shifted your hands on his shoulders so you could fiddle with his curls.
“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Eddie smirked and turned to playfully nip at your fingers. “Come on, tell me.”
You stubbornly shook your head, pressing your lips together, and Eddie narrowed his eyes. After a moment, a familiar glimmer of mischief flashed across his face, and one of his hands abandoned your hips to cup your cheek.
Then he leaned forward until his lips were just a hair’s breadth away from yours, but he paused before kissing you.
“Not even if I say pretty please?” he whispered as he tossed your earlier words back at you, warm breath fanning across your lips.
His proximity, the warmth of his hands on your cheek and hip, and the high still buzzing through your body, it all overwhelmed your senses, short circuited your brain, and your mouth opened of its own accord.
“Do you want to have sex with me?” you blurted out.
Your words echoed in the deafening silence that followed, and Eddie’s eyes widened in surprise, his teasing expression going slack.
You were so embarrassed, you were sure your blood was going to start boiling.
“W-Wait, no, that’s not what I— that was stupid, oh my god, forget I said that… like that,” you rambled. Your tongue felt clumsy and alien in your mouth, and at this point you wanted to bite it off. Instead, you slammed your eyes closed and tried to pull away. “Never mind, I’ll just—”
“Woah, hey, now,” Eddie said, clamping his hands around your waist and keeping you seated on his thighs. “Where’s the fire? Come on, Obi, it’s okay. We all say things we don’t mean when we’re high.”
You peeked open your eyes to see him smiling at you reassuringly, and he was just so beautiful, so kind, that you couldn’t stop yourself from digging your hole even deeper.
“I… did mean it,” you murmured, and again your words seemed to surprise Eddie, his fingers flexing around your waist. You thought you saw his pupils dilate even further, and that gave you the courage to go on. “I-I mean, I know I’m high, but tonight isn’t the first time I’ve… thought about this. It was bad enough when we were just friends and I thought I didn’t have a shot with you, but ever since that first time you kissed me in the hospital, I’ve been… And I know we’ve both been healing, and the world is set to end at any moment, but I just… I want you, Eddie.”
You were panting for breath by the end of your little spiel, and you bit your lip as you searched his face for a reaction. You hadn’t been very eloquent, but you hoped he understood what you were trying to say.
Eddie’s pupils were definitely blown now, swallowing his irises into inky pools that contrasted with his reddened sclera. He exhaled shakily and licked his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his throat clicked with a swallow, and you thought you could feel his fingers tremble where they were still resting on your waist.
“Are—” Eddie started, stopped, cleared his throat. Then his gaze met yours, and you were surprised to see the uncertainty there. “Are you sure, Obi? B-Because I don’t want you to feel like you have to. I’m perfectly fine with taking things slow, just kissing you— god, just kissing you is already enough to drive me fucking insane. So we don’t have to rush. I don’t… I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. I don’t want to hurt you. Never want to hurt you.”
That last sentence was murmured softly, Eddie’s face twisting, and your heart twisted along with it. This man. This ridiculous, noble, gentle, kind man. You loved him with your entire being.
“You could never hurt me, Eddie Munson,” you said, leaning forward to brush your lips against his. The kiss was soft, barely there, and you didn’t seek to deepen it. Instead, you pulled back and moved one of your hands to his cheek, stubble scraping across your palm as your pressed your forehead to his and stared into his eyes. “And if you want to wait, that’s okay with me. Because I agree, kissing you is pretty awesome.”
Eddie cracked a smile, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.
“But,” you continued, your voice dropping low, and Eddie fingers tightened around your waist in response. “Just so you know, I could never regret anything I do with you. How could I regret something I’ve been dreaming about for almost an entire year?”
Eddie sucked in a breath and held it, and under your palm, you felt the muscles of his jaw flex as he ground his teeth together. He studied your face for a long, endless moment before he suddenly jerked his hips up. His belt buckle just barely brushed your clit through your shorts, but it was enough to tear a gasp from you, pleasure zapping through every nerve in your body, and Eddie snapped.
One of his hands left your waist to grab the back of your head, and then he was tugging you forward, crashing your mouth against his.
“Fuck, okay, yes, god, yes,” he gasped between kisses, and his hands were everywhere, in your hair, dragging down your spine, grabbing your ass to pull you against him.
“I… take it… you don’t want to… wait?” you couldn’t help but tease in the brief moments he released your lips.
“You’re not the only one who’s been dreaming of this, sweetheart,” he muttered as his mouth left yours, trailing across your jaw and down your neck. He pressed a kiss over your pulse point, and your breathing stuttered.
“Then maybe we should turn those dreams… into reality?” you suggested and tilted your head back to give him more access. The fact that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him made you bold, and you ground down into his lap to further emphasize your point.
“Shit,” Eddie hissed, and then his mouth was on yours again, hungry and insistent. His tongue traced over every one of your teeth before he pulled back and nipped at your lip, his voice coming out in a desperate gasp. “J-Just tell me what to do, Obi. Fuck, I’ll do anything, anything you want, just tell me.”
It could have just been dirty talk, but you thought you detected a strange note of uncertainty to his words, and the fire building in your gut cooled a degree as you pulled back and looked into Eddie’s face. His eyes were glassy and full of lust, but you saw insecurity there, too, and a question jumped to the forefront of your mind and off your tongue before you could stop it.
“Have you… done this before?” you asked.
Eddie winced slightly, more of that insecurity blooming on his face, and you felt him start to fiddle with his rings against your right hip.
“Well, um, technically, no, b-but I know the general gist. Talk floats around the boy’s locker room, ya know, and all those magazines under my bed certainly painted a picture— shit, fuck, forget I said that. What I’m trying to say is all of my knowledge is, uh, theoretical, not practical. Not a lot of girls lining up to sleep with the trailer trash freak who sells drugs and worships Satan and… wow, I’m really selling myself here, huh? So sexy. Shit.”
Groaning, Eddie clenched his eyes shut and dropped his head back, but you chased after him, rising up on your knees a little to lean into his chest.
“Hey,” you muttered, and when he wouldn’t look at you, you reached out with both hands to cup his face. “Hey, Munson.”
Reluctantly, he tilted his head up and opened his eyes, and you smiled.
“Hi there,” you giggled, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose like he had done to you earlier.
“Hi,” he grumbled back, but he let you brush his bangs out of his face and met your gaze.
“For the record,” you said as you ran your thumbs over his stubbled cheeks, and you couldn’t help but dip down and press a quick kiss to his parted lips. “I still think you’re very sexy.”
“Uh-huh,” Eddie muttered, sounding unconvinced.
“I’m serious.” You met his eyes again before your own started to trail over the features of his face. “Sexy. Handsome. Pretty. Beautiful. I think of at least one of these words every time I look at you. Your eyes always make me feel like my lungs forgot how to work, and every time you smile, especially if it’s directed at me, the world stops for just an instant. And don’t even get me started on the tattoos and jewelry. Chicks dig that stuff, you know?”
You ended on a partial joke because Eddie had started to squirm under your praise, but then he looked up at you, shifted one of your hands off his cheek, and pressed a kiss to your palm. He looked less uncomfortable now, less insecure, but his smile was still tentative.
“So… I haven’t ruined my chances, then?” he asked, and seeing the lust spark back to life in his eyes made you clench your thighs together.
“Definitely not,” you muttered as you hovered over him, your lips slowly descending toward his again.
“And you’re sure it doesn’t… bother you? That I haven’t… you know?”
“Not at all,” you breathed. You were less than a centimeter away from kissing him, but a sudden thought popped into your head, and you felt it only fair to voice it. “Does it bother you that I have?”
“No.” Eddie’s response was instantaneous, full of sincerity, and you couldn’t wait any longer. You dove down and slanted your mouth over his, and Eddie groaned against you, his fingers digging into your waist. All of his hesitation was gone now, and his hands burned a path down your back to cup your ass. You whimpered into the kiss, and your noise seemed to spur him on, because the next thing you knew, he was shifting his feet behind you and pushing upright.
“Eddie!” you gasped as you tore your mouth from his. “Be careful!”
“I got you, sweetheart, don’t worry,” he chuckled once he was fully on his feet, his hands tucked under your thighs that were wrapped around his waist.
“I’m more worried about you hurting yourself.” You frowned. You weren’t exactly thin, not like Nancy and Robin. “Put me down.”
“As the lady requests.” Eddie smirked and then turned, throwing you down on the bed beside his guitar, which he immediately moved out of the way and onto the floor. He was grinning when he looked back at you, but he seemed to freeze at the sight of you sprawled across the mattress.
You were wearing jean cutoffs, his old Metallica shirt that Dustin saved from the trailer, and a worn red flannel on top. It was a casual outfit, not even especially cute, but Eddie was staring down at you like you were wearing the sexiest set of lingerie.
“Fuck, Obi,” he breathed as his eyes pinned you to the mattress, and you squirmed under his scrutiny.
“Well, are you just going to stand there and stare at me, Munson?” you asked, cheeks flushing.
“Hell no,” he said, and then he was climbing onto the bed, hovering over you on his forearms and claiming your lips once again. He wore a new guitar pick necklace, the pick having fallen out of his copy of The Hobbit the other night. At some point, he’d apparently forgotten he was using it as a bookmark, but now it was hanging on a loose silver chain, brushing your jaw and neck as it dangled from his throat.
The two of you made out for a minute, but then Eddie started pressing kisses down your neck. When he reached your collarbones, he paused to dip his tongue into the hollow between them, and you moaned as you arched your back. The weed high was still making everything feel tingly and cranked up to eleven, and you could already feel that your panties were sticking to you beneath your shorts.
“Eddie, please,” you gasped as you buried a hand into his mane of curls.
“What do you want, Obi?” he muttered against the base of your throat, licking the skin there again.
“You.” Squirming, you arched up into him again, brain fuzzy with pleasure. “I-I want you. Want you to touch me.”
“Shit, sweetheart,” Eddie groaned before he lifted his head to seize your lips in another kiss. “Where? Where do you want me to touch you?”
“Everywhere,” you whined, reaching for the hem of your own shirt. It suddenly felt stifling in your bedroom, and you could feel sweat bead along your brow.
Eddie let out a litany of curses, but he helped to slip the shirt off over your head, and then you reached behind yourself and undid the clasp of your bra with a flick, too impatient to wait.
As you tossed the bra away and fell back onto the bed again, you saw that Eddie’s wide eyes were glued to your breasts, and his mouth hung open like the hinge of his jaw had broken.
“Oh, f-fuck, you’re so gorgeous, Obi, god, I want to put my mouth on them.” His dark gaze flicked to yours, begging. “Can I? Please?”
You wanted to tease him, but the earnest way he asked your permission made your pussy clench around nothing, and all you could do was nod your head.
Eddie wasted no time, diving down and immediately dragging his tongue over one of your nipples. The shock of his wet, hot mouth made you gasp, then whine as he closed his lips around you and sucked.
“O-Oh, shit,” you moaned when he reached up and tweaked your other nipple with his nimble fingers.
“Feel good?” he mumbled, words muffled by your flesh.
“So good,” you breathed and then cried out when he ran his teeth across your nipple. “F-Fuck! Don’t stop, don’t…”
You trailed off into another moan as Eddie flicked the nipple he wasn’t sucking on, the nub pebbling between his fingers.
“Goddamn, you make the prettiest noises, princess,” the metalhead muttered between your breasts, switching from one to the other. “Better than I ever dreamed of. And I’ve dreamed about sucking your titties a lot.”
The vulgar confession made more slick pool in your panties, and you whimpered as you reached an arm down, wiggling it between the two of you until you found the button of your jeans. But you couldn’t open it from this angle, and you groaned in frustration.
“Please, Eddie,” you begged, using your other hand to tug at his hair until he released your nipple with a slick ‘pop.’
“What?” he asked as he looked up at you, and his eyes were glassy with pleasure. You could also feel where he was hard against your thigh, and you pressed up into his bulge, making him stutter out a moan.
“Pants,” you gasped, reaching for the button of your shorts again. “Help me… help me get them off.”
“Shit,” Eddie exhaled with wide eyes as he watched you lift your hips, and then he was fumbling into motion. “Yeah, here let me just…”
With his help, you were able to push your cutoffs down your thighs and kick them away, but he stopped you when you reached for your panties.
“Eddieeee,” you whined, but he clasped your wrist firmly and pressed your hand into the bed beside your hip.
“Slow downnnn, Obi,” he said, that familiar teasing lilt in his voice, and he flashed a lopsided smile as he started to crawl down the length of you. “There are some things I want to savor.”
“Sadist,” you pouted, and Eddie opened his mouth like he was going to retort, but then his eyes zeroed in on the apex of your thighs.
“Fuckkkkk,” he breathed as he lied down on his stomach, legs dangling off the bed and his gaze glued to your pussy. “You’re so… wet. Did I do this to you?”
The awed disbelief in his voice made you moan, and you tried to clench your thighs together, but Eddie grabbed them, fingers digging into your skin.
“No, don’t hide,” his said, voice breathless. “I— fuck, I want to—”
He broke off suddenly and then just darted forward, licking a hot stripe up your slit that you felt even through the soaked fabric of your panties.
“Oh!” you gasped, the syllable cracking in the middle, and your hips bucked toward his face.
Eddie pulled back as he licked his lips, and then his wide eyes flicked from your pussy, to your face, and back again.
“S-Shit, you’re right,” he rasped out, and his fingers started clawing at your hips, tugging your panties down your thighs. “These have to go, gotta get out of the way, f-fuck.”
You giggled a little at his frantic fumbling and the way he threw your underwear over his shoulder, but then his hands were sliding up your thighs again, prying them apart, and the laughter hitched in your lungs when his eyes zeroed in on where you were wet and trembling.
“Je-Jesus Christ.” Eddie swallowed sharply as he lowered himself onto his stomach again, his gaze still locked on your pussy. “I— Jesus H. Christ. God, you look so pretty, so… Fuck, can I taste you, Obi? Please?”
Your whole body flushed, from the tips of your ears to your toes, and you squirmed beneath him.
“Y-You don’t have to,” you muttered. Despite not being a virgin yourself, you’d actually only slept with one other person, and he never did that to you. In fact, the whole “losing you virginity” thing took less than five minutes and was ultimately pretty unsatisfying.
“Oh, I want to, baby,” Eddie corrected as his eyes finally clicked to yours, dark with hunger. “Holy shit, do I want to.”
The last remnants of saliva in your mouth dried up, but you felt more wetness trickle out between your legs.
“O-Okay.” Your voice shook as you nodded, and Eddie grinned like you told him he won the lottery.
Fuck, he was going to destroy you.
Eddie wiggled a little to get more comfortable, but after a moment, he ended up just kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed, tugging you down until your butt met the edge of the mattress.
You gasped as he parted your thighs to make room for his broad shoulders, and he smiled as he trailed kisses up each of your legs before he pushed them back so your feet dangled near his ears.
In this position, you felt vulnerable, all of you laid out and laid bare, but the absolute adoration and lust in Eddie’s eyes chased away any of your lingering insecurities.
“Damn, I wish I had a camera,” he muttered as his gaze dragged over you, hot enough to burn. “You look… so fucking incredible.”
“Eddie, stop teasing me,” you huffed, reaching out to twine your fingers through his curls. “Please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely, pretty girl.” He smirked, but then his cocky expression grew a little hesitant. “I-I’ll probably fuck it up at first, but just tell me what feels good. I want to make you feel good.”
You nodded frantically, but all your words were lost when Eddie leaned forward, his breath fanning over your slick folds. His fingers dug into the meat of your thighs as he anchored himself, the rings on his left hand cold against your overheated skin. Then the flat of his tongue dragged across your pussy, and your vision whited out.
“F-Fuck!” You tossed your head back as pleasure zapped through you, and you unintentionally tugged on Eddie’s hair, pulling him further between your thighs.
“Oh, god,” Eddie whimpered, and then he was suddenly licking you with fervor, delving between your folds until his nose bumped into your clit. Even that slight stimulation to your bundle of nerves had you jolting, and Eddie noticed, shifting his mouth upward, tongue swirling in circles that made you see stars.
“Eddieeee,” you keened to the ceiling when he sucked your clit between his lips, and he immediately popped his head up so you could just see his wide eyes and slick mouth over the curve of your belly.
“Holy shit, you taste so fucking good, Obi,” he said, voice guttural. “Am I— does it feel good, too?”
“Y-Yes, fuck, Eddie, feels incredible,” you panted as you tugged at his hair. “Please don’t stop.”
Eddie stared at your flushed and writhing body for a moment before he was diving back between your legs, tongue and lips everywhere. He was a little sloppy, saliva mixing with your arousal and making everything slick, but his eagerness made up for it. He was also very attuned to your every sound and twitch, so when he dipped his tongue into your entrance, and your moans rose in pitch, he started swirling the tip of his tongue around your hole until you were practically sobbing. Then he fucked his tongue into you as far as it could go, his nose pressed firmly to your clit, and your eyes rolled into the back of your head.
You didn’t know if it was the weed still singing through your veins or if it was just Eddie, but your orgasm crept up on you without warning. One moment, Eddie was pressing a sucking kiss to your clit before fucking his tongue back into you, groaning at the taste, and in the next instant, your spine was arching off the bed as every muscle in your body locked up.
“Shit, I’m-- ohhhhhh!” you wailed as Eddie rapidly thrust his tongue into you, shaking his head at the same time so his nose flicked back and forth over your clit.
It felt like you shattered into a million pieces, lights and colors exploding behind your tightly shut eyelids. You could distantly feel your legs spasming and clamping around Eddie’s head, but he was still moaning as he tongue-fucked you through your climax. You whimpered and clawed at his hair, feeling like every nerve in your body was an exposed live-wire, chanting his name until you ran out of breath.
Once your whines took on a slightly pained quality, Eddie pulled his mouth away, and it was like you were a puppet whose strings got cut, because you immediately slumped into the bed.
Air sawed in and out of your lungs as you gasped for breath, and you stared blindly at the spinning ceiling while you slowly descended back into your body. Your limbs felt like they were filled with static, but you mustered up enough energy to lift you head and look down toward the foot of the bed.
Eddie was still kneeling on the floor between your legs, and you felt your walls flutter around nothing at the glimmer of your juices smeared across his chin. His breathing was as ragged as your own, and his hair was wild, mussed by your fingers. When he caught your eye, he exhaled sharply and half-heartedly dragged the back of his wrist against his chin, his chain bracelet glinting in the light of your lamp.
“Jesus Christ, Obi,” he grunted out, and his black eyes threatened to swallow you whole. “That was… fuck, that was so goddamn hot. I could feel you fluttering around my tongue. Shit.”
He reached down with his right hand, and though the edge of the bed hid it from view, you knew he was palming his cock through his jeans. His obvious arousal made you throb again, and you bit your lip.
“I’ve… I’ve never cum that fast,” you confessed, and your cheeks still flushed with embarrassment even though the man in front of you had been tongue deep in your pussy just seconds ago.
Eddie groaned at your admission, and then both of his hands were latching onto your inner thighs again, thumbs smearing saliva and slick into your skin.
“Do you— can you do it again?” he asked, his dilated eyes flicking from your folds to your face. “I want to see you do it again. Wanna see you cum, pretty girl.”
His pet names made more slick drip out of you, made your thoughts fizz out into static for a moment, but then you frowned and propped yourself up on your elbows.
“What about you?” From this angle, you could see his lower half, and his cock was straining against his tight black jeans. It looked like it hurt. “I want to make you feel good, too. Can I put my mouth on you instead?”
Another groan rattled deep in Eddie’s chest, and he had to reach down again to press the heel of his palm into his crotch.
“Christ, that’s fucking tempting,” he panted, but then his eyes drifted back to your pussy, and they got that hungry glint in them as he leaned down and darted his tongue between your folds.
You cried out as your elbows buckled, your spine falling back to the mattress.
“But you just taste too goddamn good, baby,” he muttered against your clit. “Wanna make you feel good again. Want you to fall apart on my tongue, my fingers.”
You whined as he started licking at you once more, and soon you could feel the coil in your gut tightening bit by bit. This time, Eddie focused his mouth around your clitoris, alternating between flicking it with his tongue and sucking it between his lips, and when your legs started twitching around his ears, he snaked a hand down your belly and pressed a finger to your entrance.
You immediately shoved your hips down, sucking his finger in to the knuckle, and the two of you moaned in unison, the sound rattling through your bones.
“O-Oh, fuck,” Eddie hissed as his twisted his finger inside you, pressing against the walls of your pussy. “Fuck, Obi, you’re so wet and goddamn tight. Holy shit.”
“Eddie,” you whimpered, clenching around him. His finger was thicker than any of yours were, but it was still not enough, so you bore down, tears gathering along your lashes as you begged. “M-More. Please, Eddie. Y-Your finger f-feels so good— fuck! So good. I need another one, please.”
You were practically sobbing now, humping into his hand, and Eddie leaned down to pepper kisses over your inner thighs.
“Shhh, shh, it’s okay,” he soothed, and you felt the tip of a second finger prod at your entrance. “It’s okay, baby, I got you, give you everything you want. Anything you want. Here you go… shit, you gotta relax sweetheart, let me in.”
You whined but listened as best as you could, and a moment later, he slotted both fingers home inside of you, drawing a shout from deep within your chest. Your pussy immediately clamped down around both digits, but Eddie twisted and spread them inside you, stretching your walls, until he brushed up against that one spongy spot that caused you to wail.
“Fuck, is that it, baby? Is that the spot?” he grunted, pressing more insistently on it.
You couldn’t respond because your toes were starting to curl, your moans rising in pitch, but apparently that was all the response Eddie needed because he suddenly started thrusting his fingers, hard. They nailed your G-spot with pinpoint accuracy, squelching through your wetness, and then you felt his thumb brush over your clit.
“Cum for me, Obi,” he said as he pressed on your pleasure zones from both the inside and outside. “Cum on my fingers. Want to see it so bad, baby, please.”
The coil in your gut spun tighter and tighter, but it finally exploded when Eddie leaned down and sank his teeth into the flesh of your inner thigh.
Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream, and you felt yourself levitate off the bed as your second climax crashed into you like a tsunami wave. The weed in your system amplified the sensations once again, sending your mind into the stratosphere and your limbs spasming like you were being electrocuted. Then there was a gush of wetness between your thighs, and Eddie’s guttural groan echoed through your bones.
The world blacked out around you for a moment, and when you came to, you were sprawled limp on the bed. Your chest heaved as your lungs fought for oxygen, but the sensation of a wet tongue dragging across your thigh caused you to jerk.
You blearily glanced down at Eddie, and a gasp whistled between your teeth at what you saw.
His curly head was propped against your thigh, which he was still kitten licking, but what shocked you were the droplets dripping off his cheeks, jaw, and bangs. Then you shifted, and you realized you were lying in a very wet spot.
“F-Fuck!” You propped yourself up on shaking elbows, disbelief burning through you. “Did I…”
You trailed off, unable to complete the sentence, and Eddie’s eyes finally met yours. They looked like twin oceans of oil that were threatening to suck you under.
“Squirt?” he finished your hanging question, and his tongue flicked out to lick a drop of your juices off his chin. “Fuck yeah you did. Hottest thing I’ve ever goddamn seen.”
“Shittttt, I’m sorry,” you groaned and covered your face with both hands, falling back onto the bed as shame spiraled through you. “I-I forgot that smoking sometimes makes me do… that.”
It had happened twice, both times after you left Eddie’s trailer high and had to come home to satiate the burning ache between your legs. It had been embarrassing then— when you were alone, and no one saw you shamefully wash your sheets in the middle of the might— but it was mortifying now.
Eddie was silent for a moment, but then you felt him shift, the bed dipping as he climbed up onto his feet and hovered over you.
“Did you miss the part where I said that was the hottest goddamn thing I’ve seen in my life?” he asked, and when you wouldn’t reply, he used one of his hands to pry yours from your face. His fingers were tacky against your skin, and you flushed when you realized it was from your orgasm.
“R-Really?” you asked tentatively, finding his eyes, and the lust in his brown gaze almost set you aflame.
In response, Eddie lowered his hips, rolling them against your own until his erection pressed into the crease of your thigh. He was hard as steel, and since he was still somehow fully clothed, his belt buckle and jeans scraped over your sensitive skin deliciously.
A whimper caught in the back of your throat, and Eddie dove down to seize your lips. You groaned at the tangy taste of yourself, and he rolled his hips into your thigh again.
“What do you think?” Eddie asked against your lips, the question half growl, and even though you’d already cum twice, desire ignited in your belly again.
“I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” you muttered as you reached down to grab the hem of his hoodie, but the instant you brushed fabric, his fingers latched onto your wrist, his grip tight and unyielding.
You thought he was teasing you again, but when you looked up at his face, the lust that had been there was suddenly gone, replaced by an uneasy fear.
His expression immediately made you still.
“Eddie?” you asked and shifted your head to meet his gaze more directly under the shadow of his bangs. “Are you… okay?”
“Y-Yeah.” He smiled shakily and cleared his throat before he turned the wattage up on the smile, but it still looked forced. You stared at him patiently for about ten seconds, and when Eddie saw he hadn’t convinced you, he sighed and averted his eyes. “It’s just, uhh, can I keep my shirt o-on?”
The question hung between the two of you for a moment, and Eddie seemed to hunch more into the curtain of his hair.
“If that’s what you’re comfortable with, of course,” you said as you frowned at him, frown deepening when he seemed to sigh in relief. “But… can I ask why?”
His sudden change in demeanor concerned you, and you could feel your desire fading, taking a back seat as you hesitantly reached out and cupped his face. Eddie ground his jaw beneath your palm, but when he finally met your eyes, his expression fractured.
“It’s just—” he started, stopped, took a deep breath. Closing his eyes, he turned his head and nuzzled into your palm. “I… don’t exactly look pretty from the neck down anymore. Damn bats really ruined my bikini body, ya know? And I just didn’t want my s-scars to ruin the mood, but hey, would you look at that, I did it all by myself, huh?”
He laughed in a dry, self-deprecating manner, but you immediately tilted his head up.
“Eddie, look at me, open your eyes,” you said firmly, and after a moment of hesitation, he obeyed. His deep brown eyes looked so lost now, so uncertain and scared, it broke your goddamn heart. “Eddie Munson, I want you to listen to me, and listen good. First off, you didn’t ruin anything. Secondly, and more importantly, you are the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met—”
He opened his mouth, probably intent to argue, but you narrowed your eyes at him, and his lips pursed shut.
“You are the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met,” you repeated as you held his gaze. “Both inside and out. And I know for a fact that will not change no matter what’s under your shirt. I-I love you, Eddie. Did you forget that?”
“No,” he murmured, voice strained.
“Good,” you said. “Because I do. Munson, I love you so much it drives me insane. Literally insane. Insane enough that I dove head first into a hellish dimension and took on an army of bats with a lighter, a can of hairspray, and a busted shoulder.”
Eddie cracked a smile at that, his eyes going soft as melted chocolate. “My warrior princess.”
“Damn straight,” you huffed before you grew serious again. “But I love you, Eddie. Love the way you are so passionate about everything, be it DnD or learning a new song on the guitar. I love the way you’re always looking to make someone smile, someone laugh, or feel included. And I love how fiercely loyal you are, even to the point of stupidity. So nothing about you could ever be ugly. Especially not your scars. Because those scars mean y-you’re still with me, still alive. I’m, fuck, I’m so goddamn grateful for those scars, Munson.”
Your voice grew rough with tears, the backs of your eyes burning, and Eddie’s face twisted.
“Fuck, Obi, no, don’t cry. Come here.” He quickly gathered your naked body up in his arms, and then he half-carried, half-dragged you up the bed until you were both settled against the headboard. “Shhhh. I’m sorry. Shit, I’m such an idiot.”
“No, no, you’re not,” you argued, rubbing your face into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you. He sighed into your hair, the sound tortured, and you knew you needed to lighten the mood. “Well, maybe a little. Sometimes. But not right now.”
“Ah, so the truth comes out.”
You snorted as you wiped your eyes against his hoodie and lifted your head off his shoulder, and Eddie immediately brushed back the hair hanging in your face. The two of you were settled on your sides—you, on your right, and him on his left— and his other hand, the one not in your hair, was wrapped around your back. His fingers trailed over your spine, spreading shivers, and you flushed a little when you remembered you were naked. You were naked, thighs still tacky with your release, and one of your legs was slotted between his.
“Sorry, again,” Eddie murmured as his eyes roamed over your face. “For, you know, ruining the mood and making you cry.”
You shook your head before you leaned up, pressing your lips chastely to his.
“Stop apologizing,” you said. “If anyone ruined the mood, it was me, the crybaby.”
Eddie smirked, his thumb brushing against your lower lip. “A very cute crybaby.”
You nipped at his thumb in retaliation, but when you felt his breath hitch, you flicked your thumb across the pad before drawing the whole digit into your mouth. Eddie stopped breathing completely then, and his eyes darkened as they stared intently at where your lips were wrapped around his thumb.
You sucked in briefly, hollowing your cheeks, and something twitched against your thigh from where it was wedged between his.
“Shit, Obi—” Eddie started, then hissed when you rocked your thigh into his crotch.
“I still haven’t made you feel good,” you whispered once you released his thumb with a pop. “Can I, Eddie? Please?”
“Fuck, how am I supposed to say no to that?” he groaned before he captured your mouth with his. When he pulled away, he was breathing hard, muttering against your lips as he rocked against your thigh. “Asking so sweetly, almost as sweet as you taste. Fuck, I love you, Obi. You know that, right? Tell me you know that.”
“I know, I know, love you, too,” you gasped and pressed your naked body against him, losing yourself in his kisses for a moment before you pulled away. He chased after you with a whine, but you placed your hand on his chest and pressed him back into the pillows propped up against the headboard. “But let me take care of you this time, baby.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said and then exhaled shakily as you carefully straddled his lap. “F-Fucking-- Christ, you’re so beautiful, Obi.”
“Mmmm, you, too,” you hummed and pecked a quick kiss against his lips. Then you leaned back a little, met his eyes, and took the hem of his hoodie between your fingers. “Let me see you?”
Eddie bit his lip and looked a little hesitant, but after a moment, he nodded.
You smiled and gave him another kiss. “Thank you.”
Even though he’d given you consent, you still took it slow as you worked the hoodie up over his chest and tossed it to the side. Eddie flicked his hair out of his eyes as his hands settled tentatively on your waist, and you ducked to press your lips against the tip of his nose.
“Hi, there, handsome,” you said, reveling in the slight flush that spread across his lightly freckled cheeks. You traced the spreading red hue with your lips, then your tongue, shifting as you trailed across his jaw and down his neck.
“Obi,” Eddie rasped as his fingers flexed around your waist.
“Shhhh.” You dipped your tongue into his collarbone like he had done to you earlier. “Unless you want me to stop, just lie back and let me make you feel good. Do you want me to stop, Eddie?”
“N-No, fuck, no,” he stuttered, tilting his neck back to give you more room.
You smiled against his skin and sucked a quick hickey into the base of his throat, causing him to moan, but then you pulled away and shuffled backwards so you were kneeling more over his knees than his thighs. Eddie’s fingers slipped from your waist as you sat up more fully, and you felt him stiffen slightly below you as you gazed down at his bare chest.
You were careful to keep you face completely neutral, but your heart ached inside your chest for the boy beneath you. You’d seen glimpses of him shirtless before, usually when he spilled something on himself while you two were getting high at his trailer, and he stumbled around his room half-naked to look for a semi-clean shirt. So, the long, pale expanse of his torso wasn’t necessarily new to you. You even knew all of his tattoos by heart, mostly because he loved showing them off. There were the bats, the wyvern, and the puppet master on his right arm, on his forearm, tricep, and inside of his wrist respectively. Then there was the black widow spider below his left collarbone and the skull of a demon below the spider, just above his heart.
Except both the spider and the demon were unrecognizable now.
Eddie’s chest and abdomen were covered in ropy scars, pink and knotted and barely healed. Slashes marred the tattoos on his chest, so the images were dissected and distorted. But the scars on his stomach— above his right hip and below the left side of his ribcage— were worse. These scars were more jagged, both from the demo-bats’ teeth, and from where you’d burned him with a serrated knife to cauterize his wounds. The skin there was more red than pink, and you frowned as you ghosted your fingers over the raised lines, almost but not quite touching.
“Obi?” Eddie asked, and the quiet timidness in his voice snapped you out of it.
You flicked your eyes up to find him starting at you with his lip caught between his teeth, and the tinge of fear in his eyes made your throat tight again, but you shoved it down.
“I was right,” you said instead. “Still as beautiful as ever, Munson. Truly, it’s a little unfair.”
“I-I think that’s my line, sweetheart,” he scoffed, but a small smile tugged at his lips, so shy and endearing that you had to crawl up his body again to kiss him.
Eddie opened his mouth to your tongue, groaning when your naked body brushed against his. For a second, you were worried you’d hurt him, but then his kiss turned more bruising, and one of his hands came up to grope your breasts, tweaking at your nipple and causing you to groan this time.
“S-Shit, how are you so goddamn soft everywhere?” he gasped against your lips. “My hands must feel like f-fucking sandpaper.”
“No,” you moaned as your pressed into his left hand, his rings cold against the hot flesh of your breast. “Your hands feel s-so good… but stop distracting me, Munson.”
You pulled back and pouted at him, and before he could stop you, you started kissing your way down his neck again. This time, you didn’t stop at his collarbones, and you hovered over him reverently as you oh so softly dragged your lips over his scars.
“So handsome,” you muttered, pressing a kiss to his sternum. “So fucking handsome, baby. Love you so much. Every bit of you.”
“Fuck, O-Obi,” Eddie whimpered above you, and you felt him buck his hips.
You didn’t want to torture or overstimulate him too much, so you continued down his torso, pausing only briefly to dip your tongue into his bellybutton and run it across his happy trail. When you got to the buckle of his belt, you glanced up at him, finding him staring back at you with eyes as wild as his hair.
“Is it okay if I keep going?” you asked as you reached for his belt.
Eddie bobbed his head sporadically but then seemed to swallow and find his words. “Yes. Christ, yes, please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely, pretty boy,” you parroted his earlier words back at him. It was supposed to be a joke, but you saw the breath hitch in his chest, and you felt his cock twitch beneath your fingers.
Oh. He seemed to like a little praise. This knowledge made you throb, and you filed it away to use later.
Instead, you focused your attention on opening his belt and jeans, and you immediately started working both his pants and boxers down his thighs. Eddie lifted his hips to help you, and after a brief tug, his cock sprang out and slapped against his belly, causing him to moan.
You quickly shoved the rest of his clothes down his legs, and Eddie kicked them off before you knelt in the V between his thighs.
“Christ,” you breathed. It was one of Eddie’s favorite words, and it was the only thing you could think of as you stared at his straining cock.
You admittedly hadn’t seen many dicks in your life, but his was by far the prettiest. Were dicks supposed to be pretty? Because his sure was. It stretched out maybe seven inches, arching towards his belly button, and the girth of it made saliva pool in your mouth. At the base sat a bush of dark brown curls even more wild than the hair on his head, and at the tip was a little mushroom cap, beading with pearly fluid.
“I-Is that a good, um, Christ?” Eddie asked nervously.
Instead of answering, you leaned down and licked up the underside of his cock, pausing at the tip to lap at his precum, and Eddie cried out, his hips leaping off the bed.
“Mmmm, you taste as good as you look, Munson,” you sighed and licked your lips. Then you shifted, positioning yourself flat on your stomach between his legs, your own kicking up into the air behind you. Eddie’s thighs tensed when you slid your hands across them, one snaking further up his pelvis to grip the base of his cock and tilt it toward you.
“Ohhhh, son of a—” Eddie whimpered as his shaft throbbed in your hand. It was warm, and softer than you imagined, and you couldn’t stop yourself from sticking out your tongue and swirling it around his head.
“I’m not exactly an expert at this, either,” you confessed, feathering a kiss under his mushroom shaped head. “So tell me if you do or don’t like something.”
“Obi,” he gritted out with his head pressed back into the pillows and his eyes tightly shut. “I can’t even fuckin’ look at you right now because I’m on the edge of losing my absolute shit. Y-You could probably just sit there like that for a minute, and it would be enough.”
“But where’s the fun in that?” You smirked, feeling high off the power you held over this man. And from the weed, too, if you were being honest.
Then, before he could say a single thing in retort, you fitted your lips over the head of his cock and sunk halfway down.
Eddie wordlessly shouted as he thrashed, and you had to use one of your hands to press his hips back into the mattress. The other you used to grip the base of his shaft, and you pumped softly as you swirled your tongue around the portion in your mouth. His skin tasted a little salty but clean, and the smell of him was more pungent here, muskier. It drove you a little crazy, and you felt drool dripping past your lips as you slowly started to bob your head.
“Fuckkkkk, Obi, holy shit, t-that feels—” Eddie broke off with a whine, and suddenly his fingers were tangling in your hair. He didn’t push your head down, though, just held you there as he twitched his hips upward, his shaft throbbing against your tongue.
After letting him shallowly thrust for a minute, you pulled back until his head popped free of your mouth, but you didn’t go far, pressing kisses to his tip and using the saliva running down his shaft to lubricate your still-pumping hand.
“God, you’re so hard, Eddie,” you muttered absently, feeling him throb between your fingers. “Does this feel good?”
“Ohhh, so good, so fucking good, you have no idea how good,” he babbled as his fingers scratched pleasantly against your scalp.
“Hmmm, excellent,” you hummed and licked at his leaking head like a lollipop. “Because I want to make you feel as incredible as you made me feel.”
“Fuck, baby, you’re already— AHH!” he cried out, voice cracking, as you suddenly took him in your mouth again and deepthroated him.
You gagged a little, eyes stinging, as he hit the back of your mouth, but your breathed in through your nose and swallowed, feeling the walls of your throat cinch around the head of his cock.
“Shit!” Eddie’s voice rose an octave, taking on a panicked pitch, and then he was suddenly, frantically, yanking at your hair. “F-Fuck, Obi! Stop, shit, stopstopstop!”
You immediately pulled your head back, his dick sliding out of your lips with a wet slurp. Your breathing was ragged as your looked up to find him in a half-seated position, his face contorted and eyes closed, and your stomach immediately churned.
“A-Are you okay?” you rasped, your voice hoarse but concerned. “Fuck, I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
You used your arms to push yourself up and away from his pelvis, until you were kneeling again between his thighs. Eddie panted as he slowly collapsed back onto your pillows, and one of his hands came up to push the damp bangs out of his face while the other flopped across his hips.
“Eddie?” you prompted when he didn’t answer, and finally he cracked open a single eye and tilted his head to look at you.
“You… didn’t hurt me,” he muttered, and he still sounded a little breathless. “I just— fuck, that felt so good, sweetheart. Too good. I, um, almost… ya know, i-in your mouth.”
“Oh.” You smiled, your concern melting away as your desire reignited. “You could have, you know. That was kind of the goal, Munson.”
Eddie exhaled shakily, and you saw his dick twitch where it laid against his stomach, still red and slick with your spit.
“Jesus Christ, don’t say stuff like that, Obi,” he breathed, and he reached down to squeeze the base of his cock. “I-I don’t want to… finish… in your mouth. This time.”
The ‘this time’ made the heat in your gut travel up into your chest, and your smile widened at the implication that he planned to do this again. Because you wanted to do it over and over, for the rest of forever. Until you got sick of it, though you didn’t think that was possible.
You’d only gotten a taste, and yet you knew you were quickly becoming addicted to Eddie Munson.
“Oh, really?” you asked with a smirk, slinking up his body until you were straddling his lap. Your pussy hovered right over his cock, but you stayed hovering above him as you met his glassy gaze. “Where do you want to finish then, Munson? What do you want?”
Eddie’s hands settled against your hips, and his eyes were wide as he gazed up at you with naked adoration etched across his face.
“I-Inside,” he stuttered and then swallowed as his fingers tightened around your hips. “God, Obi, I want to be inside you so fuckin’ bad, I— t-there’s a condom, in my jeans. Can I— let me grab it.”
“Since when have you started carrying around a condom in your pocket?” you teased.
“Since I started waking up every day with your ass pressed against my morning wood,” Eddie said, making your pussy throb, and he patted your naked thigh as he twitched beneath you. “Come on, let me up, it’ll only take a second.”
“Actually…” You bit your lip as you placed one of your hands on his sternum and gently pressed him back down into the bed. “I was thinking… y-you’re clean, since you’ve never, um, been with anyone. And I’ve only, uh, d-done this once, and I’ve been tested since then. Also, I’ve… been on birth control for years now, it helps to regulate my cyc— never mind. What I’m trying to say is we don’t need a condom… if that’s alright with you?”
You didn’t know where you found it in you to be embarrassed after everything you and Eddie had already done together, but your cheeks flushed with heat all the same. You were still hovering over Eddie’s lap, but that quickly changed when he suddenly lunged out and yanked you down onto his chest. You squeaked in surprise, barely able to catch yourself by bracing your hands on the bed beside his shoulders, but then Eddie was devouring your mouth, teeth and tongue and hands everywhere.
You moaned as his fingers skimmed up your sides, detouring to your breasts and nipples for a moment before they continued upwards to cup your face. His tongue swiped across yours one last time before he ripped himself away, and he panted against your mouth as he pressed his forehead to yours.
“That’s… holy shit, that’s so fucking hot,” he whimpered as he bucked up beneath you, and the brush of his bare dick on your wet folds punched a groan from your chest. “Obi, Christ, Obi, I need to be inside you. Fuck, please, I just— I’m gonna die if I’m not inside you in the next thirty seconds.”
“I already told you once, you’re not dying on me, Munson,” you said, snaking a hand down between your torsos to grasp the base of his cock.
Eddie whined again at your touch, but it was nothing compared to the strangled sound he made when you notched the head of his dick against your dripping cunt. You sat up a little to get the angle right, but then you paused and smiled at the tense, panting man beneath you.
“Love you, Eddie. I love you so goddamn much.”
“Fuck, I love you, too, sweetheart, I— OH!”
He broke off with a shout as you pushed your hips down, popping the head of his dick past your entrance. The stinging stretch made your eyes roll back into your head, and a guttural groan echoed up your throat as your slowly sank down, inch by inch, onto his cock.
“S-Shit, Eddie,” you whined once you sat in the cradle of his pelvis. Your walls ached and fluttered as they tried to accommodate him, and it felt like he was lodged all the way up in your chest. The first and last guy you’d been with definitely hadn’t felt like this.
“Fuckkkk,” Eddie practically sobbed out, and his nails dug into the skin of your hips, hard enough to leave bruises. But he managed to lift his head from where he’d thrown it back into the pillows, and his hazy, unfocused eyes found yours. “Christ on a fucking crutch. A-Are you okay, Obi? You’re so goddamn tight.”
“It’s cuz you’re f-fucking big,” you shot back, your voice a little breathless as you gently settled your palms against his belly, careful to avoid the worst scars. The stretch of him inside you still ached a little bit, but it was beginning to fade, and you slowly rocked your hips against his.
You moaned at the dual sensation of him moving inside your pussy while his pubes tickled your clit, and Eddie cursed again as his fingers clamped down around your waist.
“Wait, s-stop, stop,” he suddenly hissed, and you froze above him, lifting your hands off his stomach.
“Sorry, did I—” you started to ask, but Eddie quickly shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut.
“No, you just feel too goddamn good. Again.” Eddie laughed shakily before he took a deep breath and let it out slow. Then he opened his eyes, and he smiled up at you sheepishly. “Sorry. You’re just… so fuckin’ beautiful, and I’m on a virgin hair trigger here, and—”
“Eddie, it’s okay,” you cut him off with a smile, reaching down to pry one of his hands off your hips so you could press a kiss to his fingers. “You have nothing to apologize for. Do you feel good right now?”
“Good doesn’t even fuckin’ scratch the surface, sweetheart,” he breathed out, and when you released his hand, it immediately fell to one of your breasts, brushing over your nipple. “This is quite literally the best goddamn day of my life. Don’t know how it could get better from here.”
“I think I have an idea.” You smirked before you leaned down and slanted your mouth over his, rolling your hips in the process.
Eddie’s groan was muffled by your tongue, and you whimpered along with him as you lifted a few inches up his shaft before sitting right back down. You swirled your hips with him rooted deep inside you, and his hands ghosted up your spine, pressing you against him.
The two of you rocked together as you kissed, but you needed air eventually, so you tore your lips away, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder as you gasped for breath.
With his lips free, Eddie took to babbling, and every word out of his mouth just made you drip and clench around his cock.
“O-Oh, fuck, baby, you feel sooo good, so goddamn good. So wet and-- Fuck! Squeezing me so tightly. Christ, you’re driving me insane, I can’t even t-think. My brain is on fucking fire-- god! Obi. S-Shit, Obi, w-wait. I’m sorry, wait, waitwait.”
You froze midroll and whimpered as his cock brushed that special spot inside you. Eddie panted as he clutched you to him, but after a moment, he slowly relaxed into the sheets, and you carefully propped yourself up on your hands.
“Sorry,” Eddie muttered as he blinked up at you.
“I told you, you have nothing to apologize for,” you reminded him with a smile, but he still looked so contrite, so you clenched around him, rising up a little and sinking back down so he could hear the wet noises coming from between your bodies. “Hear that? That’s because you turn me on so much, Ed. You’re the one making me so wet. I could probably just sit here on your cock and cum without either of us moving. That’s how good you feel inside me.”
“Goddamn it, Obi,” he gritted out as he clenched his eyes shut again, his hands clutching at the top of your thighs. “I’m trying not to cum here, and you’re not helping.”
“But I want you to cum,” you said, sitting up fully and starting to rock on his cock again. From this angle, you could almost feel him in the back of your throat, and you tossed your head back as you settled your palms against his belly and rode him in slow but deep movements. “I, ah, want you to cum deep inside me, pretty boy. Want— fuck, want to feel it.”
“Oh, shit,” Eddie hissed and bared his teeth. Then his hands wrapped around your hips again, guiding you a little bit faster. “S-Shit. I— Can you cum again? Wanna feel you cum on my cock. Fuck, I want that so bad. What can I do?”
“Touch me,” you gasped. The coil in your gut was tightening again, wound tighter and tighter by the insistent press of his cock deep inside you.
“Y-Yeah, yeah, I can do that,” he groaned, shifting his left hand from your hip, and the cold bite of his metal rings against your heated and swollen clit made you cry out.
“Eddie!” You jolted further up his cock than you had been, and you were so slick that you just slid right back down, your ass meeting his pelvis with a wet slap. The head of his cock knocked against something inside you that made you see stars, and suddenly you were bouncing on his dick, rapid and wild, your eyes rolling back into your head.
“Fuck! Oh, god, oh, Christ, O-Obi, Obi, I’m— shit, I’m cumming.” Eddie’s voice rose into a high-pitched whine, his fingers and rings blindly bumping against your clit, his hips bucking off the bed to meet yours. “I’m cumming, fuck, cum with me, cum with me, baby, please!”
“Yes, cum inside me!” you sobbed as he snapped his hips up into yours, and your third orgasm of the night hit you like a freight train. “Eddie!”
You felt his cock thob in the tight clutch of your walls moments before you were filled with the warmth of his cum, and the sensation heightened your own climax. Your whole body spasmed, lightning in every nerve, and you only distantly felt Eddie tug you down onto his chest, his tongue invading your mouth, his sobs and curses muffled by your lips.
The two of you rolled and writhed against each other as you rode out your climaxes, but eventually your thighs burned too much, so you just collapsed limp on Eddie’s chest while he thrust up into you a few more times. You whimpered from oversensitivity and the aftershocks of your orgasm, and your brain felt like slush between your ears when Eddie finally gasped, shuddered, and stilled beneath you.
A long moment stretched by in silence as you both caught your breath and returned to your bodies, but Eddie was the first to stir, his hand feathering up your spine. It tickled slightly, so you involuntarily clenched, and then you both groaned as you tightened around his softening cock.
“Fuckkkkkk.” Eddie laughed, his chest rumbling beneath you, and his palm pressed flat between your shoulder blades. “That was… holy shit. I… I think I might have died. I think this might actually be heaven.”
“Why do you keep trying to die on me?” you grumbled as you lifted your head off his shoulder and pouted at him.
“’M not trying to, baby.” Eddie smiled and cupped your cheek, but then he bit his lip, his dark-brown eyes searching your face. “Was that… okay… for you?”
You blinked at him. And then again. “Munson. Did you not just make me cum three times?”
He blushed, but his smile was equal parts sheepish and proud. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I did.”
“Damn right you did,” you sighed, wincing as a cramp started up in your thigh. “But, um, I need to… dismount now. Leg cramp.”
“Oh, shit, yeah, let me—” Eddie paused and glanced down at where you were still connected, and then his eyes darted from side to side, searching. “My shirt, I—”
“Too slow,” you groaned, and you pulled up without warning.
His half flaccid cock slid out of you with a wet sound, and both of you whined. You could feel something start to trickle out of you and onto your inner thigh, but you just flopped onto your back, Eddie scooting over to make room for you against the headboard.
“Sorry,” you hissed as you stretched your legs out, pointing your toes. “Couldn’t wait. Damn Charlie horse.”
“Want me to rub it?” Eddie asked, and he shifted partially onto his side next to you.
“No, it’s fading, I’m okay,” you sighed, relaxing into the bed and turning your head to look at him. But he wasn’t looking at you. No, his eyes were glued to the inside of your thighs, and when you followed his gaze, you blushed. Your skin was wet, glistening in the light of the bed side lamp, and you could feel more wetness seeping out of you and onto the covers.
Oh, well. You needed to wash the sheets anyway. Thankfully, you had spares for tonight.
“Eddie,” you muttered when he just kept staring, and you tried to close your legs, but he suddenly reached out and stopped you, his fingertips pressing into the tacky skin of your thighs.
“No, wait… can I…” He trailed off as he glanced at you, and you wanted to tell him no, were already squirming with embarrassment, but you found yourself nodding yes.
Yes to whatever he wanted.
Eddie smiled before he scootched down the bed a little, and then he was pressing your thighs open, his fingers brushing against your sopping folds and spreading them apart.
“Fuck,” he breathed as he gaped at your swollen pussy, and you moaned, walls fluttering, pushing out another glob of his cum. “Goddamn, you look…”
He trailed off again, and you felt his thumb swipe up your slit, collecting his cum, before he slotted it back inside you.
“Ah!” you gasped, the sound transforming into a moan and then a whimper. You closed your thighs around his wrist and arched your back, trying to scoot away. “Eddie, s-sensitive.”
“Oops, sorry.” He immediately withdrew his thumb, but he paused a moment to inspect the slick glint of your combined juices on his skin.
You reached for his hand without thinking, meeting his wide eyes as you pulled his thumb to your mouth. Gently, you wrapped your lips around him, swiping your tongue over the pad of his digit. The taste was salty and tangy but not bad, and your eyelashes fluttered a little as you hollowed your cheeks.
When you released him, Eddie exhaled sharply, like he’d been holding his breath, and then he was swooping down to kiss you again. His tongue stabbed into your mouth, chasing the remnants of your combined flavors, and you moaned as you wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him down to lie half on top of you.
“Whoa,” Eddie laughed against your lips. Then he pulled away to stabilize himself so he didn’t fall off the bed or crush you. “Careful there, Obi. I might trip, fall, and end up with my dick inside you again.”
You giggled at the corny joke and pecked another kiss against the corner of his mouth. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”
“You are so evil,” Eddie groaned as he wrapped his arms around you, trapping your own against his chest. “Evil, evil Obi.”
“Muhahaha,” you murmured sleepily, settling against him. But then your eyes fluttered open, and you saw the scars inches away from your nose. Tentatively, you traced your fingertips down the pink, ropy tissue, and when Eddie tensed slightly, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the remnants of his spider tattoo. “I didn’t hurt you, though, did I?”
“Princess, what you made me feel was the opposite of pain,” Eddie sighed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You made me feel… fucking fantastic. Is it weird if I thank you? Because I feel like I should thank you. You know what, I’m doing it. Thank you, Obi. Thank you for rocking my goddamn world.”
“You’re welcome.” Giggling, you pressed another kiss to another scar. “And thank you, Munson. I… I love you.”
“Fuck, I love you, too,” he breathed as he placed his fingers under your chin and tilted your face up. His lips brushed over your so sweetly, and his opposite hand traced idle patterns against the bare skin of your back.
When he pulled back, he was smiling that smile you loved so much— the one that crinkled the lines around his eyes and made his dimples stand out— and there was a hint of mischief in his chocolate brown eyes.
“Now, what do you say to us rolling another joint, raiding your kitchen, and going round two?” Eddie smirked.
“I think…” you said with a smile, tickling your fingers against his chest until he giggled and pulled back. “That you better hurry up and get rolling, Munson.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned and smacked another kiss against your lips before clambering out of bed.
You laughed at his overexaggerated hurried pace, the way he kept glancing at the clock on your nightstand with increasing faux-worry. He somehow managed to roll another joint without spilling anything, and you felt your breath hitch a little as you watched him lick it closed.
Yeah, you were definitely addicted to Eddie Munson now.
But you didn’t really see the problem with that.
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jishyucks · a month ago
B. Material ‣ cbg
‣ pairing: best friend!Beomgyu x female!reader
‣ genre: f2l, fluff
‣ wc: 1.7k
‣ summary: In which the B in 'boyfriend material' stands for Beomgyu; alternatively, where you've fallen for Beomgyu's weird love language and you need to make that clear to him before he thinks otherwise
‣ warnings?: nothing really bad, misunderstanding and accidental eavesdropping, beomgyu being weird, slightly cheesy lmaooo
‣ an: this was just a random draft in my docs and I just wanted to post something real quick so quality might not be there, actually cute imo, the ending is very low-key rushed but it wasn't meant to be longer than 1k lmaooo
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“My lady~” 
You look at Beomgyu as if he was crazy, “What the fuck?” Your best friend gestures for you to step out of the car, holding the door open wide enough for you to exit but just enough so it wouldn’t hit the neighbouring vehicle. You can’t tell if he was joking or not. 
“My lady~” Beomgyu repeats. Then he leans forward and whispers, “This is when you get out of the car.” Oh, he was being serious.
Sliding out of your seat, you do just as he suggested, still giving him a puzzled look. What is he on?
Obviously, it isn’t the first time you’ve witnessed Beomgyu act off. It was different this time because he was acting his normal, goofy self before you arrived at your destination. 
Shutting the door, Beomgyu sprints to the front door of the building, opening it before using the same gesture as earlier, “My lady~”
Although your heart should be going crazy at the fact that Beomgyu’s basically calling you his, there was not one inch of you that could take him seriously right now. Not when he looked adorably stupid, “Gyu, we’re at McDonald’s.”
He chooses not to reply, holding the door open as he waits for you to go through. There are people entering and exiting the restaurant, but he doesn’t shift his gaze away from you. He’s waiting patiently, posing as if he were in some kind of ad. 
You sighed and walked through the open door, letting yourself in through the second set. Beomgyu hurriedly follows, sticking to your side and linking your arms. You cock a brow. Skinship between the two of you was certainly not out of the ordinary. Beomgyu has just never linked arms with you before. 
“What do you want to order?” He questions, eyeing the menu, “The same as always?” 
“Yeah, I’m not in the mood for trying anything new right now,” you reply, nodding. 
Beomgyu grins. “Okay, I’ll order for you.” 
Stepping up to the cashier, he almost drags you with him, forgetting that his arms are linked with yours. He chooses to ignore this, ordering for the both of you before bringing his card to the reader to pay. At that, he drags you to pick up counter, joining a few others who were waiting.
“Remind me to pay you back later,” you say quietly. A number is called out, prompting one of the other customers to pick up their food. 
Beomgyu gasps, bringing a hand up to his chest as if you just said something outwardly offensive. You want to laugh but you would be lying if you said you weren’t slightly worried about the boy. 
“What do you mean—” And you imitate Beomgyu’s gasp while giving him a puzzled look. 
Another number is called, leaving you, Beomgyu, and one last customer at the counter. Beomgyu replies, “I’m a gentleman, and a gentleman never lets his lady pay for her meal.” He closes his eyes and smiles proudly and at this point, you’re real close to smacking him on the side of the head to knock out whatever has possessed him. 
You give him a look, holding it in hopes to reel out the reason why he was acting like this. And although you’re burning holes through the side of his face, Beomgyu acts as if nothing’s up, watching the employee gather all of your guys’ food onto a tray. 
Recalling recent events, you try to narrow down why the hell Beomgyu was acting like those dudes in old movies. You don’t put the effort into coming up with a reason this could be happening, but the only possible cause of his behaviour could be that he joined the school’s drama production without your knowledge and he’s doing some sort of method acting. 
Your order’s number is finally called out by the girl at the counter. She pushes the tray towards the both of you before turning back to the kitchen to collect the next order. 
“I got it.” Beomgyu unlinks your arms and picks the tray up. You both decide to sit near the back of the restaurant, next to some windows. 
Just as you’re about to grab your food, Beomgyu takes your food into his hands and places it in front of you himself. Then, he grabs one of the straws, taps it against the table to poke it out of the wrapper, before sticking it into your drink’s cap. He places this in front of you too. 
You look at him, raising a brow, “You know… I could’ve done all of that myself, right?” 
Beomgyu looks completely clueless as he sets his own food, “Yes. But a gentleman always helps his lady out.” 
“Beomgyu…” At this point, it’s getting ridiculous. Method acting or not, you want an explanation from Beomgyu. He’s chewing on his food, eyes set at the centre of the table, obviously trying to avoid any sort of eye contact. 
“Choi Beomgyu,” you repeat. This time you lean down towards the table and try to catch his gaze. Granted that Beomgyu’s attention span was shorter than the average adult, his eyes flicker up to you. 
“Y-yes, my lady?” He lets out a nervous chuckle, grabbing his drink. 
You sit up straight, “Why are you being weird?” You’re straight to the point, but only because you’ve endured this long enough (because 10 minutes is long enough). 
“I’m not being weird,” Beomgyu sips on his drink, putting it back down before moving back to his fries, “This is how I am.” One corner of his mouth quirks.
You quote him, “‘My lady’? ‘Gentleman’? Gyu, I swear in all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never said those words once.” Then you add, “You opened the car door for me, you opened the front door for me… not to mention what you did just now…”
Beomgyu laughs, trying to play it off, “Can’t I just be the nice friend that I am?”
“You know I won’t judge you if you tell me the truth, right?” you say a bit calmer. It’s your turn to take a sip out of your drink.
Beomgyu hesitates to speak, eyes turned down at the table. He wonders if it would be odd to tell you the reason. It did involve him eavesdropping (though he claims it was more of a moment of overhearing). The root of his behaviour wasn’t his business in the first place. What if you got mad at him because of it?
“Do you swear that you won’t judge me?” Beomgyu’s voice is so quiet that you have to lean forward in your seat to hear him clearly, “Do you swear that you won’t get mad at me?”
Now he’s scaring you. But you nod anyway, “I swear.”
Beomgyu takes this as his cue to explain himself. Mentally, he could piece it all together easily. But trying to find the words to explain everything was something else. It all made sense to him personally, but he knew that once he begins speaking, you would be understandably lost. 
“The other day… when I came over without you knowing,” he begins, “I was making my way to your room and you were on a call with your friends.” 
You know exactly where this is going. You only know because Beomgyu was the topic of the night that night. 
“I swear I didn’t want to eavesdrop on purpose but hearing my name, it made me curious.” Beomgyu pauses and crosses his hands, bringing them to his lap out of nervousness. He’s swinging his feet but you don’t notice, “So I listened. And I heard you say that… that you couldn’t see me doing things a boyfriend would do. So, I did all of this to show you that I’m…” He thinks of the perfect way to put it, but unsure with his words, he lowers his volume, “Boyfriend material?”
You take in what Beomgyu just said, not knowing whether you should laugh or reassure him that his problems weren’t as serious as he thought they were because they weren’t. Beomgyu’s assumptions were entirely untrue, being that he did miss a huge chunk of your conversation. He simply misheard and misunderstood what you were going on about that night. 
“Why do you want to prove that you’re boyfriend material that bad?” 
Beomgyu avoids eye contact, shaking his head, “It’s nothing… just… it just hurt my ego a bit.” But you know damn well that Beomgyu’s lying. All the signs were there, but you didn’t want to fish out what he was truly feeling yourself. You wanted him to tell you himself. 
“We were talking about stereotypical boyfriend things,” you start, “Like what you just did. Holding the door open, ordering for me, just the things you’d typically see in movies or shows… but I said that I couldn’t see you doing those things because they weren’t you.
“In movies, the guy would lend his sweater, but you, you push for me to share the sweater with you because body warmth is ‘one-hundred-percent better’ than the warmth of the sweater itself. Other boyfriends, they’d agree to watch whatever his girlfriend wants to please her, but you, you choose to go for something I’ve never watched, and that led me to discover new shows that are actually really good.”
Beomgyu’s starting to feel more confident, eyes flickering between his food and you. 
“You spam me with tiktoks, take the nastiest photos of me without my knowledge, and eat my food without asking me—which some of those things, a typical, picture-perfect boyfriend would never do,” you go on, “You don’t care if you beat me in video games, you untie my shoes when I’m not looking, and you tease me until your heart’s content, but you know what? All those things, to me, are what makes you more boyfriend material than what people usually perceive as boyfriend material.”
“What are you saying?” Beomgyu’s riding a rollercoaster of emotions. He’s unsure whether all of this is a good or bad thing. He needs a direct explanation. 
“I’m saying that you’re boyfriend material in a different way, Gyu. There’s no need for you to do all those things because I’ve fallen for you and the way you show affection.” You feel laughter erupting in your stomach, not believing what you just indirectly confessed. 
Beomgyu’s still in a state of shock from what you just said, jaw nearly dropping onto his lap, “You’ve fallen… for me?” He doesn’t know how to react. He didn’t plan any of this. He simply wanted to show you how he can be boyfriend material. 
You nod sheepishly. 
“Good,” he replies quietly, “Because I’ve fallen for you too.”
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guccisweatpants · 3 months ago
steve harrington cockwarming and waking up to rough fucking PLEASEEEEE
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the morning after
the thoughts racing through my head rn.... HERE YA GO ANON
content warnings: S M U T (if you're uncomfortable reading sexual situations, this fic might not be for you! 18+ READERS ONLY), swearing, p in v sex unprotected (wrap it before you tap it)
steve harrington x female reader
have a fic idea? let me write it for you!
after, a wild night of drinking, partying, and fucking, your eyes meet the bright sun peaking in through your blinds. closing one eye, you carefully look forward at the small clock on the table next to your bed. you were naked, of course. your boyfriend, steve, has a tight grip on you as he is still lost in sleep. the more you got back in a comfortable position, the more you realize he was still inside you. then you remembered,
"let me stay inside you while we sleep, can't get enough of that pussy," he growled in your ear.
"well, i'm not going to say no to your cock in me all night long, since it's already been there forever now," you leaned forward to kiss him and fell asleep in each other's arms.
his snores reach your ear as you gain more comfort. the feeling of him being inside you just turned you on. you grind yourself on his cock in an attempt to wake him up. you take his hand resting over your hip and grab your breast with it.
"steve," you moan, only to receive a small groan in return, "steve, wake up."
"it's so early, babe."
"no, i need you to fuck me," you grabbed the back of his head.
he opened one eye as he was curious to see if you were serious or not. once he realized you were not kidding, he found himself rock hard again.
in an instant, you found yourself underneath him as he lined himself up with your sensitive entrance. he slowly pushed himself into you, knowing you're already used to his length due to being inside you all night.
it was a feeling you'll never grow tired of. the feeling of being filled by the man you love. once you gave him the signal, he sped up his pace. you wrapped your arms around his neck and pushed him deeper inside you with your legs. you needed more.
"faster, harder, stevie, please," a long moan left your body. you mentally thanked God that your parents were away on business.
"someone's eager this morning," he raised himself on his knees to switch the angle up a bit.
"i'm just fucking horny," you set your hands behind your head for your tits to bounce freely.
steves eyes went to your breasts and watched in awe as his moves were making them bounce like that. the moans coming out of your mouth was music to his ears, he reminds you constantly that those sounds can only be heard by him only. he sped up the pace, chasing your highs, quickly finding your clit to give it some harsh rubs.
she gained enough power to flip the both of them over so she was on top, "sorry, i need a new angle."
you on top really made his cock hit your cervix a whole new way, and you were desperate for that feeling.
"no need to apologize, you taking control like that, babe, it was fuckin' hot," he grabbed your hips, most likely going to leave bruises, but you didn't care.
"oh, yeah, God, you're so fucking good at this," she steadied herself with her hands on his chest, brushing through the hairs. not everyone enjoyed steve's hairy chest, but you thought it was the sexiest thing ever. so who cares what other people think?
"steve, you close baby," you moaned, finding steve's hand and pressing his finger to your aching clit.
she grinded as fast as she could until she couldn't take it anymore as the pleasure was too strong. steve knew how to make you come undone with just the tip of his finger. you felt him come inside you as his cum attacked your walls. you were on the pill, so the two of you had nothing to worry about.
you fell on top of his chest, he stayed inside you until he fell soft.
"that was," you stared.
"amazing," he finished.
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etherealperrie · 3 months ago
Stuck With You {pt. I}
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Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader: In which Class President!Reader is paired with Stoner!Eddie Munson for a class project. Despite their best efforts to get a new partner and a general hatred one another, Reader and Eddie find out there might be more to one another than they first thought. And...Hey, wait, you're actually kind of sweet and misunderstood?
Word Count: 2k
Contains: Mild language | Enemies to friends to (later) lovers trope | Class President!Reader | Fluff & cute banter |
A/N: Italics indicate a flashback sequence. Story takes place pre-season 4, so no spoilers for the newest season (aside from Eddie being a character and existing in the ST universe). (Almost) gender neutral, aside from the use of the word "madame" a handful of times. My first time writing for Eddie Munson. Hope you enjoy <3
This is the first part in the "Stuck With You" series! Here are the links to parts 2 | 3 | 4 |
You were meant to be helping prep for tomorrow’s pep rally, but you’d somehow let Eddie the freak Munson convince you to trek across town to Forest Hills Trailer Park just to get some work done. Convenient for him, at the least. You’d never even been to this side of Hawkins before. Well, you’d driven past on your way to and from school, but you’ve never spent any real time here. Not until today. Groaning, you glance down at your watch as you trudge across the grass, searching for the right trailer. 8:13pm.
It wasn’t like you didn’t try to get a different partner, it was that Ms. O’Donnell refused your plea. Eddie didn’t look pleased about the pairing either, but he didn’t often look pleased about anything. The only time you ever saw him smile was when you caught glimpses of the Hellfire Club meetings after school in one of the empty classrooms as you passed by on your way to and from student council meetings. The room was always loud and raucous, shouting and whooping both at and on behalf of Eddie as he rolled some dice. In the classroom though, he was rarely present – physically or mentally. Barely passing the class, you assumed, which was why Ms. O’Donnell had the sadistic idea to pair him with you: in hopes of finally getting him graduated. 
“I prefer to work alone,” you say, looking up into the eyes of Ms. O’Donnell. 
She clicks her tongue, shaking her head. “This is a partnered project, it’s too much work to do alone.” She starts to turn away but you refuse, pushing yourself up from your desk to step between her and the chalkboard. 
“But, I’ve already read The Scarlet Letter! And, we both know I’m going to end up doing all of the work anyway. Anyone else, please.”
The words tumble out of your mouth, sounding a bit more desperate than you wanted, but it was just unfair. You had a winter ball and a pep rally to plan, plus a student council to run, you didn’t need to waste time trying to get a deadbeat student to do some work. 
“My mind's made up, my dear. You should get to work, I’m certain you and Mr. Munson will work well together if you put aside your differences and try.”
You open your mouth to object once again, but she holds a hand up, signaling that the conversation was over. Groaning, you turn back to the class, everyone in the room divided evenly into pairs. At the very back is none other than Eddie Munson. He’s leant back in the chair, his feet propped up on the desk, a smug grin on his lips. 
“Madame President, what an honor,” he teases as you slide into the seat next to him. He sits up at attention in his chair, mocking a salute. The silver skull ring on his middle finger glints under the stream of sunlight coming in through the adjacent window. His fingers, long and nimble, crash down onto the desk as he chuckles to himself, too proud of his own joke. 
You roll your eyes, sliding him a copy of the book Ms. O’Donnell had given you. “Trust me, I’m just about as delighted with this pairing as you are.” 
He scoffs, feigning hurt, and picks up the book. He pages through it haphazardly before setting it back down, all in the same second. His eyes move to you, his smile spreading. “Actually – Madame President – I am quite delighted with my partner. This is the last class I need to pass to get the fuck out of here and I have a feeling you’ll be able to get me that passing grade.”
“I’m not doing all of this by myself to float your ass to graduation so you can go jack off with your stupid club and sell drugs in the meantime.” You cross your arms harshly, shooting him an accusatory look. 
“You are a truly ruthless leader, Madame President.” 
“Enough with the nickname already, Munson. Or, if you’d prefer to stick with them, I have a few I could use for you.” 
He raises an eyebrow, challenging you. “Would ‘Oh, Mighty One’ be better?” 
You open your mouth to argue, but snap it shut. 
He didn’t know you and didn’t want to. You didn’t know him either, but you didn’t need to. It didn’t matter much either way, there was a project that needed to be done and you weren’t going to let a stoner like Eddie Munson tarnish your permanent record, not with graduation just a few weeks away. You could both graduate and move on with your lives, this project would be nothing but a small blip in the rearview mirror of life. 
“Let’s just get this over with. The sooner we start, the sooner we can be done. What are you doing after school?”
“Oh my god are you asking me out?” he gasps, his voice lifting an octave as he twirls a piece of hair between his fingers. 
“For the project,” you hiss. “We could meet in the library before my student council meeting.”
He laughs loudly, catching the attention of a few of the students around you. 
“I’ve got Hellfire Club.” He lifts his hand and puts up a finger, counting each thing off with his other hand as he talks. “Then a couple of drug deals – the usual, weed, Special K...you know how it is–” he looks up at you with a smirk, chuckling at your wide eyes. “And then after that, I’m working with the band. So, no, the library won’t work for me. But you can drop by after we’re done.”
The evening was cold and dark, fog rolling in over the small town. You thought you might hear the final moments of Eddie’s band rehearsal as you approached a light blue trailer near the end of the park, but they must’ve been long finished. You wondered if they were actually any good. You couldn’t actually imagine liking it, you weren’t a fan of metal music – more of a Cyndi Lauper fan, yourself – but you couldn’t curb your own curiosity. To your dismay, it was eerily quiet. Tugging your jacket a little close to your chest, you hope you’d stumble upon the Munson residence sooner rather than later. 
“Boo!” A voice shouts, echoing into the night. You jump, goosebumps crawling across your skin as you crash into the side of the trailer in front of you, your heart thumping loudly against your chest. “Woah, woah, sorry, I didn’t really mean to scare you.” Eddie Munson comes into view, his long hair wild and mussed, his eyebrow quirked. A haze of smoke pools around him, a cigarette dangling lazily between his fingers. He takes you in, his gaze moving down your body and back up to your face, assessing the situation. 
“You okay?” His smug smile fades, his brow knitting together in worry. He drops the cigarette and stamps it out, stepping closer to you.
“I think so.” You peel yourself from the side of the trailer, your heart still pounding, your breathing labored and ragged. “Ouch,” you mumble. A tinge of pain stings your head, where you’d smacked it in your moment of panic. You cough, batting away the smoke and reach up to rub the sore spot. 
“I thought you saw me, that was a shitty idea, my bad.” He steps forward, leaning over you to check out your head. He was so much taller than you thought, a good foot taller than you. As he hovers nearby, you breathe in the scent of him: cigarettes, sweat, and a musky cologne flooding your senses. “Come on in, I think I’ve got some ice for your head.” He yanks open the trailer door and steps through the frame, leaning back to help you in. 
You’d never been this close to him before nor seen him outside of school. You were always rushing around at school so you never really had an opportunity to study him. A pair of black jeans hang low on his hips, held up by a studded dark leather belt. Standing with his hand resting on top of the doorframe, a thin strip of his stomach is visible underneath his Hellfire Club t-shirt. Your eyes work their way up his long torso, taking note of the various tattoos scattered across his arms and collarbones. 
Before you know it you’re sitting on the edge of Eddie Munson’s bed, holding a bag of frozen peas to your head and watching him rush around you. He stashes a black metal lunchbox into his dresser and kicks a pile of clothes into the tiny closet, shutting the doors behind him. The room was small and stunk of cigarettes and weed. An ashtray sits on his bedside table, along with a small collection of silver jewelry, a couple of figurines of characters you didn’t recognize, and his copy of The Scarlet Letter – a bookmark fit snugly between the pages. Had he actually started reading it?
His voice draws you back to reality. “I know it’s a mess, sorry…but at least my uncle, uh, had the peas.” He finally stops cleaning and plops down onto his bed, leaving plenty of space between the two of you.
“It’s okay, really, thank you.” You lift the pack of peas from your head and set it down on his black duvet. “I think I’ve been healed.” 
“You sure? You’re not having any hallucinations, are you?” 
“Sitting in Eddie Munson’s bedroom, I feel like I might be. This is happening, right?” You nod in the direction of the book on his nightstand. “Like, did you actually read that?” 
“I skimmed the book.” He rolls his eyes, letting out a small laugh. “And I could say the same thing, I almost don’t believe our class president, the sweetheart of Hawkins High is in my bedroom right now.” 
“Sweetheart of Hawkins High is a bit of an overstatement.” 
“Only the most adored person ever would say that.” 
You shake your head. “No, people adore girls who are sweet and charming, like Chrissy Cunningham. Some kids respect me, because I make a lot of important decisions — like starting tater tot Tuesday — but for the most part they just tolerate me. They don't like me.” 
A beat of silence falls between you. 
“Well shit, Madame President.” 
You shoot him a glare and he laughs. Sighing, he scoots down to the edge of the bed where you sit, being careful to not get too close. Suddenly, you’re not sure if you would mind. 
“I get it, you’re looking at Hawkins’ resident freak. Though, they don’t really even tolerate me.”
“To be fair, you do come across as mean and scary.” 
His lip twitches as he thinks over your comment. “I do? Is it the tattoos or the hair?” 
You laugh. "I think it might be the satan shirt and the Dungeons and Dragons worship."
He glances down at his shirt and shrugs, snickering to himself.
“I hate to break it to you babe, but you come across the same way.” 
“Shit, I do? Is it my impressively high GPA or my amazing pep rallies?” 
“I actually think it’s the obnoxiously big ‘Class President’ patch on your denim jacket.” 
“Fuck, Munson, I was just starting to not hate you.” You blurt, watching him. He laughs, knocking his knee against yours. “Seriously, you’re not like I thought you’d be.”
You immediately regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth. Eddie didn’t need to know you thought about him, about who he might really be underneath the school facade. You’d never considered he might be different until tonight, until you noticed the way his face softened when he thought you might be hurt or scared. You didn’t think he really even cared what people at school thought about him, but like you, it was more bothersome than he let on.  
“I don’t hate you either, Oh Mighty One.” He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, “and I’ll admit, you’re better than I thought you’d be.” 
Within seconds your eyes reconnect with his. Brown eyes bore into yours, a smirk painted across his pink lips. Heat pulses through your body, rising in your cheeks. Clearing your throat, you hold up your book, smiling. “Then, let’s get to work.” 
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demonicheadcanons · 5 months ago
How the OM! Brothers React to MC Pulling Them Down To Their Height For A Kiss
AN: Kind of just how the title sounds. I’m quite ill at the moment including brain fog and a fever so excuse typos and general idiocy. No proof reading we thrive like fools.
The one I’m most torn about because I feel like he would be the most torn inside.
Lucifer loves any form of affection from you so long as its not in front of his brothers. But in some way, being pulled down both feeds and sparks against his ego. Please, MC, if you wanted a kiss that bad you could’ve just asked him. Also he really doesn’t appreciate that now his collar is all rumpled, and makes a show of straightening it out again before he presses a kiss to your forehead.
If he’s in a good mood he might just laugh. And not a little chuckle, but something a lot more than that. In fact, you’ll be able to kiss him again a lot easier because he’s doubled over with the force of it, not quite meeting your eyes as his mind replays what’s just happened - you seriously just full on pulled this man down by the collar to kiss him? Out of nowhere? And even then, you were practically still stood on your tiptoes? Lucifer knows realistically that he’s tall, even amongst his brothers, but that’s hilarious.
If he’s in a bad mood, you can hear the growl from his throat that stops the second your lips are against his. He’s not in the mood to be yanked about today, MC, but he supposes a few more kisses might make up for it. However, it might be best to let him take the lead now - his neck will hurt if you keep pulling at him like that.
Hey human! What are you doi- ohokay
He never said stop, did he? He absolutely wasn’t protesting, he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. If anything, Mammon thinks you should just continue with what you were doing, and maybe don’t stop please?
He levels you with puppy dog eyes once he’s at your height and within easy reach. He’s also blushing furiously, and his hands are shaking with nerves until he cups your face in them or wraps them around your waist to keep you close. You can tell he’s practically holding his breath as you litter his face with more kisses, but Mammon very quickly relaxes into it, adoring the shower of affection - he needs it. He needs someone to show their love, because all too often its hidden behind the harshest of words and actions.
If he was in a bad mood before you did it, he seems almost ready to push you away at first until he holds you as close as he physically can, in a hug so tight its amazing it doesn’t hurt (Mammon knows. Mammon’s the brother who’s learned just how tight he can hold you, who’s memorised the best way to do it to keep you close to him without causing you any harm, who knows exactly where to put his arms so they’ll fit perfectly around you. Of course he has, this demon who has so much love to give and no one else who’ll accept it.)
Kind of likes being pulled, kind of doesn’t - he needs something softer sometimes. Put your hands on his shoulders or neck and gently guide him instead and he will thrive.
Hah! What do you think you’re doing? What kind of normie act is that?
But then again, didn’t that one character do that in that one show with the way-too-long-title Levi somehow has memorised? Did you do that just to make him happy, then, because you two watched a few episodes of it once a few months back?
Any act of affection is overwhelming for Levi, but he has a sense of pride that he’s the one you’ve decided to pull this on. And that he’s tall enough you have to physically pull him down to your level. Levi isn’t one to show off his height and actually sometimes wishes he were smaller so that no one would pay any notice to him, but for this moment alone he’s actually almost happy with himself as you reach up and get the best grip you can on him before planting your lips against his own.
That doesn’t stop his brain from short-circuiting, though. Nothing could, really. He stumbles back and detaches himself from your grip before covering his mouth, face redder than some of Henry’s scales. He’s stuttering out some kind of question, or asking if maybe it was an accident and you were just trying to get something out of his hair, or-
Finally, he mumbles something about not hating it even though you probably did, tone thoroughly defeated. Go ahead and do it again, keep trying! Levi will learn to accept your affections someday.
Quite immediately, Satan decides he is perfectly fine with this. He’s probably the quickest person to reciprocate, putting his arms around you before you could even hope to pull away.
He does chuckle though, and makes comments on how that was adorable and thoroughly charming. As open as he is, Satan makes it known that he doesn’t mind this one bit, that you’re free to do that any time his brothers aren’t around. Or maybe do it in front of Lucifer to make him jealous - Satan would love to see his expression.
Despite keeping a tight lid on his feelings, Satan can’t help but escalate things if you kiss him at all. He keeps so much held in, so if you initiate kisses you’re doing it at your own risk. Of course, he never pushes you any further than you allow, but just be aware that he is so very often in an affectionate mood.
Also, Satan unfortunately develops a habit of standing up straight around you and smirking knowingly. If you want a kiss from now on, you’ll have to work for it. Bring him down to your level - you’re the only person who’s allowed to, after all. Thankfully, though, there’s absolutely no resistance from him, and he will move with you if you cup his face or put a hand on his shoulder. Want a kiss, kitten? Well, you know what to do.
Oh, MC! That is just so CUTE! Do it again, do it again!
Watch his clothes though. Don’t try to pull him down by the collar unless he’s said its fine in this outfit. His scarf is fair game so long as you don’t tear it or leave any bruises on the back of his neck - its fine another way, but not like this. Yes, he winks as he says that.
Honestly Asmo is pretty much nearly always fair game. If you want to kiss him you need only ask, but there is something he finds thrilling about being forcefully pulled down to your height first. It excites him and makes him happy, hands quick to find your hips and rest there, or to sling across your shoulders and ask what’s next, what more do you want? You’re taking charge today and there’s no one he’d trust more to, no one else he’d so willingly play along with, no one he gazes at and wonders just how happy he could make them instead of the other way about. You need only say the word - he is so entirely at your disposal, dear MC.
So? What will it be?
This is probably your third or fourth time trying to pull Beel down to your height. Its hard to get a good grip on him and he’s eating so often you’re not even sure you’d want to kiss him.
When you do finally manage, Beel responds fairly well, all grins as he beams at you and lifts you off the ground in a hug. If you wanted a kiss that bad, he could’ve just as easily picked you up, don’t be afraid to ask!
Beel doesn’t really like being pulled about, though. He likes kisses, but he’d really rather pick you up or just lean down by himself. He’ll make this more known only if you attempt to do it again first, not one to bring up his concerns without being asked.
With that, he’ll probably come up with some sort of system instead - tap his arm twice and he’ll lean down, reach your arms out to him and he’ll pick you up, and so on. He wants to make you happy, but he doesn’t want to do it at his own expense. He also gets into the habit of tapping your arm or shoulder twice, gentle as can be, if he wants something from you.
Unfortunately, you manage to catch Belphegor off guard with this act and he makes a kind of surprised noise against your mouth. From now on, he decides to make that your problem.
Want a kiss? Try and pull him down to your height, go on! You’ve done it before, so why are you struggling now?
He’s actually fine with it, potentially even enjoys it, but he’s also an asshole who likes to make things as difficult as possible. Belphie will continue to stand tall and won’t stoop down to your height until it looks like you’re about to give up trying. He’ll then smother you with an overwhelming amount of affection, intentionally trying to take your breath away and charm you completely. If he catches you off guard he grins against your mouth, feeling entirely victorious.
Eventually, Belphie will let up and he’ll work on side with you, stooping down to let you do as you please, but it will take a while to get there. He’s going to milk this for all its worth before then.
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starwarsaddiction · 2 months ago
I had a brother, once
When I was about nine, and he was four, I think, he went away. He was so cute, he had a bunch of shiny copper hair, a nice smile and those big blue eyes. I loved to play with him, he was so little and funny. But one day he started moving things around the house, like small things that ran across the table to his little hands, and once he befriended a bird outside the window, it came so close to him that it accepted the food he gave it. My mother didn't believe me at first when I said that, but then she and dad started watching him closely, and I remember they talked of a thing called the Temple, after a while. Dad looked sad for a bit, but mum was so thrilled. She had an old picture, she always told me the woman in the picture was his grand grand grandmother, from centuries ago, and that she went to the Temple, and one evening they came into our room and talked to us. They told us that my little brother, Ben, had a special gift, like the woman in the picture. That he was touched by the light, and he could do great things, and that new people would come to test him and see if he was touched enough to learn how to use his gift for the Galaxy and the Republic. I was so scared, at first, I didn't want my little brother to go away. I screamed and hugged him, and he was so still in my arms. My parents were emotional too, mum said to me that giving a child to the Temple was a privilege and that he could live better with them than with us. I didn't understand at first, but they told me that the Temple was full of people like him, with his gift, and that their job was so important to the Republic, and he would have the chance to become a good person between them. We were just humble citizens, my dad was an architect, like me, and my mom was an artist and a painter. She told me that Ben could become something that they could never prepare him for, and the people at the Temple could help him with his gift and prepare him to be the best person he could be.
Some days after that, people from the Temple came to see my family. There was a tall black man and a creature with a mask on his face and eyes. They played with Ben and asked him a lot of questions, and then they came to me. They asked me if I loved him, and if I wanted him to be happy. Of course, I wanted that. The black man told me that he understand I was sad and didn't want to lose my brother, and he was right. He told me that Ben was going to live a life in the Temple, that he would learn how to use his gifts, and that he would be happy with them, but I was afraid that he would be alone and sad.
So they brought us all to the Temple, and we had the chance to see where he would live and grow. The school and the creche were so fun, and warm, that I even asked if I could stay with them too. But I was not gifted as him, so I couldn't. We hugged my brother for the last time, but every year, for the anniversary of the day he went to the Temple we received a picture and a few words from his teachers. It went on until he became a Padawan, around fourteen, and it was ten years since he left us.
We never forgot him, and I was still a bit sad, but I grow up being proud that my youngest brother went to become a Jedi. I got married and watched my children closely, in their youth, wondering if there was a hint of the same gift that he had, but apparently, that wasn't the case. It was a relief, surely, I didn't have to say goodbye to one of my children at such a young age, because I remember how conflicted my parents were, when we left him on Coruscant, in the Temple. They cried a lot, and I thought that it was because they didn't want to leave him behind, but then I understand. Sometimes it's hard to choose the best for your children, and you wish you can do everything yourself. But it's not always possible. He had great power in his little hands, and with great power comes great responsibility, and sometimes as a parent, your job is to accept that you're not the best fit to teach something important to your children. We knew nothing of the Force, we couldn't help him with it. We wouldn't be able to give him the proper teachings to understand and use his power in the best way, and it could easily hurt him and the people around him. Instead, he went on and became a great Jedi, and now I can read about him, saving the Republic and the galaxy with his power, against the Separatists that want to destroy our way of life.
So, yes, I spent my youth wondering how he was and if he was happy with the Jedi, but now I know he was. And every time someone at work asks me "are you related to that Kenobi?" I always smile.
Yeah... that's my brother.
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becauseicantthinkwritings · a month ago
Never Quite Enough//2
Read part 1 here
Billy Russo x Female Reader
Warnings: angst, harassment, mentions of sexual situations, violence and blood as well.
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He wasn't expecting you to look this put together.
It was as if nothing had ever happened between you at all. The thought had speared into his heart and gutted him like a fish.
A week had passed, you'd feigned sickness. Billy had agonised himself the entire week, only truly focused on firing Andrew and Walter and the two others who had roped him into the bet and sold him out in front of you. It didn't change a thing. You still wouldn't answer his calls, you still wouldn't hear him out.
Billy was truly, inexplicably, the worst human to ever walk the planet.
He almost crumbled to his knees when he stepped into the conference room the following Monday and saw you busy reading over something written on a while legal pad. You were a temporary replacement for your boss who couldn't make it at the last minute. Your hair was put together, the cut of your eyeliner sharp, daring him to speak to you.
You'd looked up, met his eyes, and then back to the note pad. No expression. No recognition in your cold eyes.
He should crumble anyway.
When you'd addressed him as 'Mister Russo,' when the meeting had concluded and you'd prepared your things to leave, he wanted to scream.
How could he know what his name sounded like, rushing past your lips on a mindblowing orgasm, and still be sane after?
He'd could still hear it now, his name on your lips after rough, sweet sex, your hands in his hair and his mouth latched to the spot above your breast and all he can hear is 'BillyBillyBillyBilly.'
But now, he had become 'Mister Russo,' once again.
At least you knew what everyone thought of you now. At least you didn't have to make excuses for someone when they spoke over you, or completely extracted you from every plan.
At least you knew that no one really minded when you smiled, backed away, and returned to your desk to sit alone.
It was easier to extricate yourself... until it wasn't.
Your boss had put you in charge of the new trainee, Dex, who'd just finished college and ached to go to every after-work mixer possible.
He'd pleaded with you to come along, needed the introductions, and you'd sighed and obliged him.
Dex was extroverted, smiled a lot, shy but he could light up a room. Everyone was drawn to him, happy to get to know him.
You just stood by his side, smiled, introduced him to whoever he asked.
The music in the bar was low to encourage conversation, but loud enough to enjoy too. Every now and then, Dex would glance at you and smile, and you'd be forced to smile back.
You couldn't let your eyes wander. You didn't want to catch sight of...him. You wonder what new thing he'd decided to bet on, maybe another woman.
The thought sobers you. You look around the room. There was no way you'd let him do this to someone else-
Billy's eyes are already locked on you.
Shit.... shit! You look down at your shoes.
Well, he didn't look like he was talking to anyone anyway, but you decide to keep a distant eye on him, a little weary that he'd try to do this to someone else.
Though, it wasn't like anyone else was as difficult to be around as you were.
You sigh.
Billy can see it.
In the way you limit your interactions, in the way you hardly smile. You look down at your shoes so much and he has to find a way to accept that this... this is what he's done to you.
He can't figure out how to fix it, should he just apologise? Or find a way to include you in more activities so that people can see the real you? You probably hated him so much now.
He sighs, taking a slow sip of his beer, chipping in to the casual conversation of the people around him and he uses it as a way to keep his eyes on you.
He'd really taken your advice- seen a therapist- he hadn't been able to work up the courage to tell Frank what he'd done. His therapist had advised him to work on himself, and not be so focused on chasing you and getting you back. Billy was told to accept the possibility that he may never get you back.
He was going to fire his new therapist.
The want he had for you was so visceral. He wanted to take your hands in his and drop to his knees and beg and beg and beg even though he'd barely knew you. The thought embarrassed him, made him ashamed, made him hate himself.
And still, his mind wouldn't rid him of the thoughts, of your laughter, your soft skin, the taste of your lips. It was like you were everywhere around him, everywhere he looked, all he saw was you. Your influence on him had ruined the very way he saw the world and now he was tainted by your touch.
He watches your eyes fixed to your beer, smiling along to the conversation and not really involving yourself. His chest aches. Every scenario he imagines to find a way to talk to you fails.
You bump into him on your way out of the bathroom.
You're not watching where you're going, just trying to think of an excuse to get out of here when you smack right into him.
You don't have to look up at his face. The scent alone sets familiarity into your bones and you know it's him by the grip of his hands on your shoulders and the shine of his shoes.
"Sorry." You say quickly, pulling out of his grip to step to the side. He moves with you, and you sigh, staying in place when he moves again to get out of your way.
"Don't apologise to me," He says softly, voice barely abovea whisper, "I don't deserve it."
You nod, turning away, pausing when he says your name, your eyes fall shut at the sound.
"I never- none of it- you're not-" he lets out a frustrated breath, shaking his fist. You think you should just put him out of his misery and walk away.
"You mean a lot to me." He finally blurts when you take a step away from him. You blink down at the floor.
"I can't stop thinking about you." He finishes.
You finally look up into his eyes, and you watch his breath catch in his throat.
"You really are a good actor," you muse to yourself, "If I didn't know any better I'd think it were true."
"It is. It is-"
The shake of your head stops him from speaking, a wry, upward tilt of your lips
"I know better now. It won't work on me." You say, walking away.
Maybe he was getting triple to get you back? You ponder, staring into the amber liquid of your beer. Maybe he was making double or nothing if he managed to lure you back into his arms. A little game of how low were your standards? Or how good at manipulation was Billy?
Regardless, it wouldn't work, because you couldn't really feel anything anymore. There was no love or hate or anger inside of you. There was... nothing, and you'd hoped Billy could see it in your eyes when you looked at him.
It was worse than dying. To have you look at him with empty eyes. The stabbing feeling in his chest wouldn't go away. Did you really not feel anything for him anymore? He remembers only a week ago when your eyes had been warm with the aftereffects of your orgasm. You'd smiled at him as you came down from your high, kissing him in the heat of the moment, he could still taste you on his tongue.
But when you'd looked at him just now. It was like you didn't even know him.
He rubs at his chest, deep in thought, only blinking up when someone asks him his opinion.
Dex won't stop flirting with you. You don't know how to tell him you're not interested. He smiles and he bumps his shoulder against yours and you return his smile with a smaller one of your own but you know he's not going to give up.
So, in your desperation, when he asks if you have any pets, you respond easily with, "Not me, but my boyfriend has a cat named Butter."
You see it, the flinch of his eyebrow as he processes your words.
"Oh? You have a boyfriend?" He asks casually.
You slam your brain trying to remember any details you have about Butter's owner."
"Yeah. Matt, he's a- a lawyer." You say, smiling.
Oh, but this actually opens up a lot of doors for you, because while Dex pulls back on his flirting, you get to glance at your phone, with a smile.
"Speaking of, Matt's working late tonight so I'll have to leave soon to feed Butter." You grin, feeling like you've accomplished the impossible by creating a fake boyfriend.
You slip off your seat, rising to a stand.
"I'll see you on Monday, yeah? Have fun." You wave goodbye.
Dex doesn't protest and you grin the entire way out.
Until the cold air of the night hits you and you realise that you just made up a fake relationship, because you're not good enough to have a real one.
You sigh.
Regardless, your imaginary boyfriend Matt means you get to shy away from all types of flirting with absolutely zero consequences. It's a little disgusting that some men need to know you're taken in order to back off, but you're not out here trying to change every random man that can't take no for an answer, you're only just trying to survive.
But one day it's not enough, and a client persists on his advances, commenting on the fact that he doesn't see a ring.
So, you go shopping for one.
And you gladly sport the antique ring on your left hand, and things aren't too bad, because you can exist in your shell without friends and without company and with an occasional intruding cat coming around.
And for a brief moment, it's not so bad.
That is, until you bump into Frank Castle in the elevator.
You smile politely, but you can tell Frank is intent on conversation. You make short responses, about some of your sales, and some upcoming deliveries, and then he notices the ring.
You don’t even realise he's seen it. When he goes quiet, you think it's hopefully because he gets the message that you're not interested in talking.
"Did Billy get you that?" Frank asks, eyebrows furrowed, nodding in the direction of the ring.
You know Frank is usually managing other branches in other cities, but you didn't know he was this out of the loop.
"I- you- Billy didn't tell you?" You ask.
Frank raises his eyebrows curiously.
"We- he- I broke up with him." You say quietly.
The elevator opens and you smile stepping out.
"Can I ask why?" Frank's quiet voice follows in step beside you.
Like a deer caught in headlights, you look up at him in shock and surprise.
You're surprised to know he didn't know, but you take a sick satisfaction in telling him. You give Frank every detail you know, watching his face move from astonishment to anger, and you realise that Frank Castle is too good of a man to be associated with Billy.
He's able to calm his anger for a moment.
"Are you okay?" He asks.
You look down at your feet. You can't meet his eyes.
"Yeah I'm fine." You murmur in a light, casual voice, "but I have to get home, so I'll see you around, yeah?"
Frank doesn't leave before taking you into his arms.
The sensation almost breaks you.
You swallow down the lump in your throat, giving him a weak smile as you turn to leave.
When Frank swings on Billy, he aims right for the mouth.
He doesn't stop, but Billy is too quick, and when he swings again, his fist only brushes the side of his head.
"What the fuck, Frank!" Billy shouts, backing away, pressed against his desk, one hand pressed to his mouth where his lips is split and bleeding.
Frank though, is calm, he had time on the elevator ride up to figure out what he was going to say.
"She was probably the best thing to ever happen to a little shit like you." Frank spits.
Billy's eyes widen in realisation. There's a long moment of silence, before Frank can see the pain shine in Billy's eyes.
"I know she was." Billy agrees, dropping his hand from his mouth, letting the blood flow.
"I've never seen someone make you that happy. Hell, Bill, I didn't even know you could get that happy."
Billy's shoulders drop.
"I didn't know how amazing she was, I took the bet, and when I realised... I was planning on staying with her, but..."
"But she found out." Frank finishes for Billy, watching the man nod, blood dripping down his chin.
"I want her back, Frankie." Billy says in such a small voice that Frank can almost blink and see a little boy and not a seasoned soldier.
Frank takes a few steps, and Billy looks at him wearily as he approaches, his eyes are watery, and unsure, but Billy doesn't move, accepting of any punishment Frank wants to dole out.
Instead, Frank wraps his arms around Billy, and he feels Billy let out a broken sob.
"I'm the worst fucking person." Billy says into Frank's shoulder.
"You're not, Bill. You just made a mistake, a bad one. You're not a bad person because of it." Frank says. Billy continues to cry.
His tears and blood soak into Frank's shirt, but it's a small price to pay to support his brother.
"Help me get her back... please."
Frank sighs.
"Bill- it might be too late. She- she's wearin' a ring."
Billy pulls away, mouth parted in shock.
"What do you mean she's wearing a ring?"
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bytheviolight · 7 months ago
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Someone Else Taking Care of You
- For Bakugou -even reaching a level of wanting to be with someone requires a deep amount of trust and respect for that person. (Their is no casual dates with this guy). He is not gonna flinch at the sight of you being hit on. Sure, he would prefer if these extras didn’t even bother. He’ll kick some ass if thinks your uncomfortable. But Bakugou knows you can handle yourself and that you love him.
- You didn’t even think that he had a jealous side.
- Think again.
- One day while waiting at the front of school for Bakugou so you guys could walk home together. He was taking a while and while you idly tapped away at your phone passing the time. A certain friend with spiky red hair called out to you. You glanced away from your phone and greeted Kirishima with a wave. Chattering away for awhile. You mentioned how you were waiting for Bakugou
- “Oh I think I know where he is Y/N. Wanna go get him?”
- Nodding, “Please and thank you. He’s taking forever”. Kirishima started the trek forward. While you took only one step….then stumbled forward. One foot had captured the other by holding down the shoelace. You huffed in embarrassment and got up from the ground. Kirishima only lowered himself and reached for the untied shoe, “Here I’ve got it”
- Worst timing ever.
- Your beloved spiky haired boyfriend finally appeared. You smiled at him. But he was glaring intently at the scene. “The fuck are you doing Kirishima?” 
- Your eyes shifted between the two of them. What the hell was your boyfriend mad about now? Seemed Kirishima had no clue either. As he got off the ground and only smiled but was met with more seething from Bakugou.
- You eased the unnecessary tension with, “Well…thanks for the company Kiri!”
- Bakugou immediately strode off and grabbed your hand in the process. Tugging you away from Kirishima and whatever not-so-apparent atrocity that occurred. Bakugou’s was holding your hand tightly and was warm. But he remained silent. Unbearably so. You finally asked, “What’s the problem, Katsuki?”
- Bakugou stopped in his tracks and he turned around with a slight blush on his cheeks. “It’s my job to do that…” You raised an eyebrow, “It’s your job to…to tie my shoe?”
- Bakugou scowled, “No dumbass! It’s my job to take care of you…”
- Oh…
- You didn’t say anything for a second. Which flustered him more and he was about to say something else. But then it was your turn to tug Bakugou along. He raised his brows, letting out a sigh, but led him forward. You added softly, “As long as I get to take care of you too.”
- Bakugou eyed the back of your head, groaning inwardly. He knew his expression was a stupidly boyish grin. He let himself get lovingly dragged on the stroll. And hoped you wouldn’t turn around to see the small smile plastered on his face. Bakugou would never hear the end of it then.
- “You better apologize to Kirishima though”
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it-happened-one-fic · 3 months ago
I Just Missed You - Riddle
Author Notes: This one is a touch indulgent. As soon as I thought about Riddle having to go home and face his mom after overblotting I wanted him to have some sort of escape. So I gave him one. An easy chat with the Prefect. This one is female-reader simply because I felt like it and it was written to "Far Away" by Nickelback
Type: Angst/Comfort/Fluff/ Platonic or Romantic you choose.
Warning: Riddle's Mom... that's it.
Word Count: 928
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Riddle inhaled deeply, resting his head back against the door of his room and letting his hand lay limply in his lap, cradling his phone. He’d known visiting home was going to be a test worse than anything he’d ever faced before.
He’d come quite a ways since his overblot. Y/n, the Prefect, had helped him to better himself. To change his ways and not become a tyrant fit to overtake his mother. But it was still hard. Returning home to the place where it had all started. 
Everyone had told him he shouldn’t have been treated that way. Even Ace, who’d held Riddle accountable for his oppressive actions, agreed that his mother had been in the wrong. And yet Riddle wasn’t comfortable blaming her.
 It was true, she’d been tyrannical about her rules and had, in many ways, treated him horribly. But she’d also raised him. Without her there was no telling who he’d be now.
He looked down at his phone, already feeling drained. It hadn’t taken his mother long at all to discover the changes in him.
“I thought you were in Heartslabyul? What about the rules?!” Her astonished and evident agitation had made him cringe and want to burst into apologies. But he knew he shouldn’t. He couldn’t really help the overblot nor the Heartslabyul rules. The worst part was he didn’t know what she was upset about.
“Having cake each day at the Unbirthday Parties is a rule Mother.” She’d pursed her lips at his surprisingly calm statement. But rules were reliable. They were a way he and his mother could communicate.
“And your grades?” Riddle had offered a sheet on which he’d carefully monitored his progress, doing his best not to tense as she scanned the neat line of top-notch scores.
“Perfect as always Mother.” She’d hummed as she scanned her way down the sheet of perfect attendance and grades. When she’d given an approving nod and returned the sheet to him, Riddle had almost beamed. It had felt like a pressure had been lifted from his chest and could breathe again. From now on this visit would be smooth sailing.
Or so he had thought.
“And you aren’t making any… unsuitable friends? The sort that would lead you astray? I heard that Clover boy was going there and when you were young-”
“Of course not Mother.” The lie had fallen from his lips like a defense mechanism. Too fast and desperate. A condemnation.
Her eyes had narrowed at his irretrievable reply. It had sounded too urgent even to his ears. She hadn’t said anything but Riddle knew it was coming. That was why he’d sealed himself in his room with the excuse of studying.
The moment she’d questioned his choice in friends, Y/n had come to mind. A wonderful person and a loyal friend, but definitely not what his mother would deem suitable. Not with their light-hearted teasing and easy going nature. Y/n wasn't strict enough about rules and didn’t have high enough grades.
Mother didn’t even view Trey as trustworthy and only barely accepted that he was the vice-housewarden when Riddle had explained how well he knew and obeyed the rules. There was no way she’d accept Y/n… Much less Ace or Cater.
Riddle’s fingers itched to tap in the number that the Prefect had given him just before he’d left on break. She’d donned such a bright smile as she’d handed him a tiny slip of paper, “I haven't ever given you my number so, here! If you get bored or… need anything, I’m just a call away and I’m not going to be doing anything anyway.”
It was like she’d known he would need someone to get him through this ordeal. Sure, he could leave the house and go visit Trey but….
Trey would doubtless be busy with customers and catching up with his family. After all, his siblings and parents adored him and their bakery was always busy.
If Riddle were to be totally honest, he missed the Prefect who’d turned his life upside down. She’d done far more than just save him from overblotting and then work with him to figure out the Spelldrive situation. She’d worked with him and helped him to overcome his obsession with rules. She’d shown him he didn’t have to punish every single slight infraction and could relax at times. And he missed her.
His fingers hovered tentatively over the screen. She was a single tap away and even though it’d only been a few days it already felt like it had been far too long since he’d heard her calm but friendly voice.
What would she say? Probably something along the lines of knowing he could face this and that everything would turn out alright in the end. And then she would ask him mundane questions about his home and he would humor her. Calming down at the sound of her quiet voice that always ensured he relaxed. That ensured he didn’t melt into a ball of stress and frustration.
Riddle had hardly realized what he was doing until he heard the beep at the end of the line and her familiar voice sounded from far away, “Hello?”
He exhaled, strangely relieved to hear her voice, “Hey, It’s me.” He could hear the smile in her voice when she responded, immediately chipper.
“Riddle! What’s up?” He smiled despite himself at her casual words. No, Mother definitely wouldn’t like them. But he did.
“I just…” He hesitated and she waited, ever patient with his hesitations and unsureness. “I just missed you.”
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dobaara · a month ago
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my anger and loneliness are lovers. 08/24. S.R.
napowrimo day 24 using @mercuriian's prompts (x): a poem about something you can't do
transcript under the cut:-
my anger and loneliness are lovers
The bodies on the olive branch writhe. The leaves fall one by one when I cut the tongue of Nemesis. A clean swoop, a bloodied strike. It falls to the floor writhing like the fishes I caught yesterday to eat. It whispers to me, secrets that are not secrets anymore. What is the point of the world when it is not hidden anymore?
I find myself in a cracked mirror each night. From a world where every heart is a stab wound, some with the knives still buried in them. It scorches my skin when I try to pull them out. The knives find a home in my hand, I find a home in the edge.
Let me be clear: every version of this story ends with rage licking my body all over before slaughtering me by feeding me ignorance.
My anger and loneliness are lovers. They stroll the gardens hand in hand and each kiss of theirs turns my world to dust. My loneliness throws a fit of rage each night if they do not get to sleep on either side of me. When they get married, I can do nothing but sob and stare at the sparkle each knife has. There is no fire to extinguish this wounded rage.
When I was seven, my father taught me to make a fist. He taught me to make a fist when I was seven and I carry those punches in a sack that chars my hands. And my anger is all early apologies as it throws me to the ground, tears it apart, and feasts on them like a servant of hades.
I cannot let them go. While anger and loneliness wander off for their sojourn of the world, I feel alone without them like a picture in a stained glass window. Immovable and longing for someone to see them and not look.
I get down on my knees and pray at a shattered altar. I pray my anger is enough to die out. I pray that my loneliness dies with it too, two lovers in a locked embrace, reunited by demise. I pray the enemy (hope) is strong enough to stop me. I twist the serpent and bee in a reunion of mayhem. I do not wish for them to leave. I would be all alone then. I do not want to be alone. I do not want to let them go…
Forgive me, I have eaten up all the anger from the store-bought box. I think I should buy one more in another flavour.
— S.R.
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metamorphesque · 4 months ago
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— Tathève Simonyan, Colourless Musings
[text ID: In my corner of the world, killing is a love language.]
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the-wild-wolves-around-you · 2 months ago
i can't carry it for you, but i can carry you (an eddie munson fix-it fic)
Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader; Eddie Munson/You
Summary: Eddie tries to sacrifice himself and be the hero, but you're not letting him go that easily.
What if there was one more person on Eddie and Dustin's team when they went into the Upside Down? What if they were able to get to him in time?
Rating: M(ature)
Warnings: Adult language, some descriptions of blood and violence. *** Some spoilers for the Season 4 Finale if you haven't seen it.
A/N: Eddie Munson is the new loml. Seriously giggling and kicking my feet just thinking of him. I'm already thinking of writing a smutty ch 2 and another kas fic. anyway, hope you enjoy! <3
Ao3 Link: Here
Update: Links to the smutty sequel - Tumblr / Ao3
“Alright, you’re next, sweetheart!” Eddie shouted, and his elbow shoved you toward the makeshift rope.
You stumbled as you raggedly gasped in the tainted air of this godforsaken place, but you grabbed the length of knotted sheets in your trembling hands.
“What about you?” you asked, snapping your gaze back to Eddie, who was standing between you and the door that the demo-bats were steadily splintering into pieces.
“I’ll be right behind you, princess!” Eddie tossed you a smile over his shoulder, but you could see the stark terror in his dark-brown eyes. “I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I left you behind, now would I?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but an all-mighty crack suddenly echoed through the trailer.
“Hurry, go!” Eddie said as he turned to fully face the weakening door.
“Guys, hurry up!” Dustin yelled from above you, and you looked up to see the boy dancing around anxiously on the other side of the portal.
You knew you couldn’t waste any more time, but you threw Eddie one last look before you started pulling yourself up the rope. Your arms burned from the strain, and the unholy screeching of the demo-bats was making your ears ring, but before you knew it, you felt yourself cross the portal, gravity taking hold of you again and pulling you down.
“Eddie, come on, let’s go!” Dustin screamed as your back hit the mattress, and you looked up through the ceiling of the trailer, seeing Eddie’s pale, terrified, dirt-streaked face staring back at you.
You could still hear the demo-bats shrieking on the other side of the gate, could feel the cold splatter of their dark blood on your cheeks and collarbones. Your chest heaved as your lungs worked overtime, heart pounding a war march in your ears, but your wide, unblinking gaze was locked on Eddie Munson.
The dark-haired man was halfway up the rope, just a full more pull ups, and he would fall through and land on top of you. Dustin was still screaming— Eddie, you’re so close! Eddie! Let’s go!—but Eddie slowed, then stopped, and his eyes found yours.
They were scared, so scared… but also resolute, and realization washed over you like an ice cold wave.
The word echoed through your mind before it fell from your lips.
“No!” you gasped, scrambling to your feet. “Eddie!”
But you were too late.
Eddie had let go of the rope, falling back onto his feet with a thud that shook you to your core.
“What are you doing?” Dustin yelled, and he reached for the rope, but Eddie sliced through it on the other side, the length of sheets collapsing onto the mattress at your feet. “Eddie, no! Stop, stop!”
The same words were screaming through your head, but you couldn’t find the breath to voice them. It felt like a fist was squeezing your lungs into clay. The center of your chest ached, and dots began to dance in the corners of your vision, blurred by tears.
“Eddie, what are you doing?!” Dustin moaned as he frantically gripped his head, and the two of you watched helplessly as the metalhead shoved the mattress on the other side away from the portal.
“I’m buying more time,” Eddie said, glancing up, or rather down, at you and Dustin. His dark eyes settled on yours for what felt like an endless moment, and his face twisted with sadness. “Henderson, get Obi out of here.”
The nickname— that stupid nickname— hit you like a blow to the chest, forcing the last bit of oxygen from your shriveled lungs.
Ever since you offered to tutor him last fall— in the hopes of making this his last senior year— he’d taken to giving you nicknames in retaliation, and not the usual “sweetheart” or “princess” he had been calling you from the moment he met you. No, he said that if you were truly going to be his mentor, then he should treat you with respect… by calling you “Gandalf” and “Master Obi-Wan” or Obi for short. Obi was his favorite, the one he resorted to most, to the point where Dustin and some of the others had started to call you that, too.
You had always rolled your eyes and playfully shoved Eddie every time he called you these things, but secretly, you loved it.
And now, it was tearing you to pieces.
“No, Eddie, please!” Dustin wailed, ripping you out of your reverie and back to the present.
Your eyes focused just in time to see Eddie slip out of sight on the other side of the gate, and the moment he was gone, every cell in your body rebelled.
No. No, this can’t happen. He can’t do this. I won’t let him.
All at once, you were suddenly in motion, shoving past a still screaming Dustin and stumbling toward the back of the trailer.
“Obi, where are you going?” the boy yelled after you, but you ignored him.
There was no time for talking. No time for explanations. No time, no time, notime.
You burst into Eddie’s bedroom, the door rebounding off the wall with a crunching sound. You ignored that, too, and frantically cast your eyes around the disheveled and messy room. The sight of Eddie’s guitar on the wall made your gut churn, the phantom echoes of his Upside Down concert still ringing in your ears. You half-expected demo-bats to come exploding out of the ceiling vent again, but you ignored the terrified skip of your heart as you fell to your knees and started rifling through the mess.
“Come on, come on,” you muttered, shoving aside dirty clothes, stray papers, old magazines.
“What the hell are you doing?” Dustin shouted from the doorway behind you. “Obi! We need to get back there! Eddie’s—”
“Aha!” you cheered in triumph, spotting your prize in a plastic bag beneath the dresser. You ripped it from its hiding place and dumped the contents on top of the dresser, DnD figurines and cassette tapes clattering to the floor.
The several cans of hairspray pinged as they bounced off each other, and you snapped them up, shaking them to estimate how much was left.
Not a lot, but enough. Thank god Eddie was a diva about his hair.
You shoved two of the cans into the waistband of your ripped jean shorts, one at each hip, and the third you grasped in your sweaty palm. Then you searched the mess on the dresser for a glint of metal, one you just saw a moment ago…
“There you are, bastard,” you said, snatching up the Zippo lighter perched precariously on the edge of the dresser. There were always half a dozen lighters in Eddie’s room at any given time, most usually lost and forgotten, but you were so grateful for this fact now as you shoved the Zippo in your pocket.
“Obi—” Dustin tried again, but you were suddenly whirling on him, grabbing his wrist, and sprinting back to the gate.
“Give me a boost.” You skidded to a stop beneath the portal and looked back at Dustin, who was pale and gaping at you.
“Dustin!” you snapped, though you didn’t mean to. “We don’t have the time to build another rope, and Eddie is alone against a fucking army of bloodthirsty bats. Give me a goddamn boost!”
“I-I don’t know if I can,” he stammered out.
You frowned in confusion but then remembered the boy didn’t have fucking collarbones.
“Shit,” you cursed before your eyes fell on a rickety yellow chair. “Here!”
You dragged the chair under the gate and clambered up onto it, the metal legs groaning under your weight, but you were short, an inch or two shorter than even Dustin, and the ceiling seemed impossibly out of reach.
“Jump,” Dustin suddenly said, and when you looked down at him, his eyes were still scared but determined. Like Eddie’s had been. “Jump, and if you can reach the edge, I can push you through.”
There wasn’t time to think of alternatives, so you nodded quickly and shoved the third can of hairspray down the front of your shirt, in between your breasts and under the center band of your bra. The metal was cold against your skin, and you swore you could hear your thundering heartbeat echoing through the canister.
“Okay,” you breathed as you wiped your sweaty palms on your shorts. “Okay, I’ll go on three. Ready?”
“Shit,” Dustin said, his expression tortured, but he nodded. “Ready.”
You swallowed sharply as you looked up through the portal, the dark reflection of the Munson trailer staring back at you. Fear started to crawl up your spine like a million ants, but you ignored it as you bent your knees and prayed the wobbly chair beneath you held out.
“Alright, one,” you started, heart in your throat, flexing your fingers to get some feeling back into them. “Two… Three!”
On three, you jumped up with all your might, the chair screeching across the floor beneath you, but then you were in the air, your fingers extending, reaching…
And latching on to the edge of the gate.
The slick vines almost made you immediately lose your grip, but you dug your nails in deep, grunting as your shoulders strained against your body weight. Your legs kicked in the air, finding no purchase, until they smacked into something solid.
“Ow!” Dustin hissed. “Stop kicking!”
“Sorry,” you gasped, but that was all you could get out, because your arms were already starting to shake. You did stop kicking, though, and just hung there for a moment before you felt Dustin’s hands wrap around your feet and start to push.
You gritted your teeth and heaved yourself upwards, and with Dustin’s help, you started to breach the gate. First your head, then your shoulders, but as the Upside Down’s gravity latched onto you, you realized you forgot one important detail.
The landing.
“Oh, shit!” you yelped as your hands lost purchase, and you felt Dustin’s hands slip from your ankles as you plummeted toward the trailer floor.
“Obi!” Dustin yelled.
Your body flailed through the air, and you had just enough time to turn your body so your shoulder— and not your face— took the brunt of the fall.
The impact still knocked the breath and the sense out of you. You also heard a dull crunch as your shoulder crashed into the shitty linoleum tile, and a moment later, red-hot pain lanced through your body.
“Fuck!” you gasped, rolling onto your back and squeezing your eyes shut. A kaleidoscope of colors danced across the back of your eyelids, pulsing in time with the pain radiating from your shoulder.
You must have broken something. At least fractured it. The pain was so overwhelming, your mouth started to fill with saliva, but you swallowed it down, along with the bile rising in the back of your throat.
Eddie. Eddie needed you. He was alone. He needed help.
“Obi!” Dustin shouted again, and your eyes flew open as you sucked in a deep breath.
“I’m fine,” you croaked, dissolving into a cough and then a groan as the motion aggravated your shoulder.
You didn’t have time for this. Eddie didn’t have time for this. It had already been several minutes since you’d seen him. And since you weren’t being eaten alive, the bats must have left the trailer. But you could still hear them screeching, so they weren’t far off, which meant Eddie was still close by.
You could save him.
The thought had you rolling upright, biting through your tongue to keep from vomiting. Somehow, you ended up on your feet, though your vision was blurry with tears.
“I’m… gonna go find him,” you grunted out as you fixed your eyes on the splintered front door of the trailer.
“No, Obi, wait for me,” Dustin pleaded, and you heard him start to scrape the chair back into place.
“Can’t,” you said through gritted teeth, but then you suddenly heart a faint shout coming from outside the trailer.
A very human shout.
You were moving before you realized it, stumbling and then jogging out of the trailer, Dustin’s voice growing fainter and fainter behind you.
“Obi, wait, stop!”
But you couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t. The pain in your shoulder even felt distant at this point, removed, muffled. As you staggered down the road, you reached into your shirt with your good arm and pulled out the can of hairspray that had somehow stayed snuggled under your bra. You were distantly grateful that the cans hadn’t exploded when you crashed into the trailer floor, but then Eddie’s voice echoed out across the trailer park again, and all other thoughts evaporated from your brain.
Because now, he was screaming.
The sound tore at your insides, infinitely more painful than a busted shoulder, and you rounded a corner to see a fucking tornado of bats circling the middle of the road.
Circling Eddie.
He was trying to fight them off, but they were so many, too many, and you watched in horror as one lashed its tail around his neck, yanking him off his feet. You saw him hit the asphalt before more of the bats descended and blocked him completely from view.
No, no, no.
Now, you were running, sprinting, gripping the can of hair spray in your fist like a sword as you used your good hand to dig the Zippo out of your pocket. The bats were so focused on Eddie, they didn’t even notice you approach, and within the blink of an eye, you were upon them. Pain flared through your shoulder like a supernova as you used your bad arm to flick open the lighter, and then you lifted the hairspray in front of it and aimed blindly at the cyclone of bats. You hit the striker as you simultaneously pressed down on the hairspray nozzle, and a column of fire erupted from your hand.
Your distantly heard Eddie’s voice at the back of your head, cackling. Obi uses fireball, anndddd that’s a hit!
And a hit it was.
The demo-bats directly in front of you immediately went up in flames, screeching and shrieking an unholy cacophony. They flailed and pinwheeled into each other, spreading the blaze, and one-by-one, they started to fall out of the sky and crash into the asphalt, little more than piles of smoldering leather skin and ashes.
But more importantly, a path was suddenly cleared before you, and you could see Eddie lying on the ground less than thirty feet away.
Adrenaline was making every nerve in your body buzz and sing, drowning out the terror, so when the hairspray can in your hand abruptly sputtered, empty, you didn’t miss a beat as you tossed it away and yanked another one from your waistband.
The bats were wailing as they burned, and you kept the column of flames going as you stumbled over their smoldering corpses. Some of the flying bastards were starting to catch on, though, and they dive-bombed you as you reached Eddie. You turned your back on his prone form— refusing to look down, refusing to see if he was still breathing because he had to be— and you lifted up your arms as you aimed for the eye of the winged storm.
“Fuck youuuuuu!” you bellowed, spinning in a circle to roast every demo-bat that came within five feet.
One of the bats directly above you shrieked so loudly your ears popped, and you aimed for the fucker just to shut it up. Its ugly snarling face was swallowed by the inferno, and its screech cut off as it suddenly went limp and plummeted from the sky.
You gasped but then remembered Eddie lying at your feet, and you didn’t even have to think about it as you turned and threw your body over his.
The grunt that escaped his chest when you landed on him would have made you weep for joy— alive, alive, he’s alive— but an instant later, you felt the corpse of the demo-bat slam into your spine while still on fire.
You cried out wordlessly as the flames scalded your shoulder blades, the smell of burning hair filling your nose, and you immediately rolled off Eddie. The bat carcass flopped to the side, and you kicked it away, rolling on your back again to put out any residual embers.
The pain in your shoulder was worse now, rearing its head past the adrenaline rushing through your veins, and now your back felt like a charred grill.
But you couldn’t think about that, couldn’t give into the pain, because the demo-bats were still screaming around you, and now they were pissed.
You scrambled to your feet and pulled your third and last can of hairspray from your waistband. You’d lost the previous one in your fall, and there was no time to look for it amongst the smoldering bodies surrounding you. Thankfully, you’d kept hold of the Zippo, because there were still dozens of bats circling overhead, and in the brief reprieve from the flames, they decided to get bold again.
They dive-bombed you in unison, and your heart lurched into your throat as you stood in the face of what now seemed like countless winged nightmares. Their snarling maws, filled with teeth, descended on you like a plague, and you just barely got the Zippo and hairspray up before you were torn to pieces.
Flames exploded into life a moment later, and most of the bats veered off, but one fucker wasn’t deterred, and it swooped and raked its talons across your arm before spiraling off, burning.
“Shit!” you screamed as white-hot agony raced up your arm, and a gush of your own blood arched through the air, glinting in the lightning and flames flashing around you.
The bat had gotten you across your good forearm and bicep, and now both of your arms felt heavy as lead. Your body ached to drop them, to give up, but you refused.
You weren’t going to die. Because if you died, Eddie was going to die, and you were not going to let that happen.
“Come on, you sons of bitches!” you roared at the sky, baring your teeth at the demo-bats.
They screeched out their own war cry and dove once more, and you were there to meet them with flames and rage.
What felt like an eternity passed as you roasted the bats left and right, but then you felt the hairspray sputter in your hand, and your stomach dropped into your shoes. You only had a brief instant to panic before the flames died out all at once, and you stared at the can like it had personally betrayed you. But then you tossed it away like you had the others, shoved the lighter in your pocket out of habit, and gasped for breath as you searched for something, anything, to keep the bats at bay.
A flash of lightning illuminated the gloom around you, glinting off some metal half buried under the embers of a demo-bat corpse. Recognition hit you like a bus, and you lunged forward, dragging Eddie’s handmade shield and spear into your hands. Your busted shoulder screamed as you hefted the shield up in front of you, spikes pointed out, and the fingers of your opposite hand were slick with your own blood on the haft of the spear.
You crouched defensively like you had seen Eddie and Dustin do when they were fucking around in that field what felt like a lifetime ago, and your heartbeat was so loud in your ear, you almost didn’t hear Eddie’s voice.
“Obi,” he rasped behind you, but his voice sounded wrong, wet, and your insides froze. “O-bi… run.”
“No,” you said right before the bats seemed to realize you were out of fire, and then there was no more time for talking.
The cloud of them descended upon you, blocking out the sky, and you stepped back to protectively stand over Eddie’s body as you lifted you shield, closed your eyes, and braced for impact.
The first demo-bat to slam into the shield nearly knocked you off your feet, but you widened your stance and shouted wordlessly, extending your shield arm out until the pain was so great in your shoulder that you almost couldn’t feel it anymore. Bats kept slamming into the metal disk, one after another, and you lifted your spear, expecting one to swoop at you from behind.
But they didn’t.
In fact, after a moment, even the impacts against your shield stopped, and suddenly, it was eerily quiet. The demo-bats weren’t shrieking anymore, they were almost… whimpering. And the sound wasn’t coming from above you. It was coming from… below.
You tentatively peeked beyond your shield, bringing your spear in front of you, ready to impale anything that moved. But when you looked around, your eyes widened. The breath stilled in your lungs.
The sky was clear, and the demo-bats were… dead. Or dying. They twitched and writhed on the asphalt around you like worms after a big rain. Most of them were scorched in some manner, but some of them looked whole and unblemished, like they had just dropped out of the sky.
What the fuck?
You stood there panting for several seconds, but no more nightmares came swooping down out of the black clouds. The vines on the trailers around you didn’t come alive, a Demogorgon didn’t sprout of the ground and attack. There was… nothing.
Was it… was it over?
Before you could think any more about it, Eddie coughed behind you, and you whirled around.
“Eddie,” you gasped as you stumbled forward, your arms going limp at your sides. The shield and spear clattered onto the road, but you barely heard them, your eyes and all your attention focused on the man sprawled out at your feet.
It was the first time you had really looked at him since you started to attack the bats, and your breath immediately caught in your chest.
“Eddie,” you said again, but this time it was more of a whimper, your voice as weak as your buckling knees. You dropped into a kneeling position beside him, the hot asphalt digging and burning your bare skin, but it was all so very distant.
Because there was just so much blood surrounding Eddie.
His Hellfire shirt was torn to shreds, the gaping holes in the fabric matching the gaping holes in his skin. Blood trickled out of the jagged wounds, pooling on the road beneath him, spreading like oil slicks. You could feel some of it warm against your kneecaps, but the rest of you felt cold, ice cold.
“Well,” Eddie said, and his lips were red with blood as they flickered into a faint smile. “You… really proved yourself the master now, huh, Obi?”
“Shut up,” you replied reflexively, your go-to response when he was teasing you, but your voice cracked halfway through as tears blurred your vision. It felt as if you were watching this scene from outside your body, like you were seeing it at the end of a very long, dark tunnel.
Eddie laughed, which was his go to response, but he choked on a groan, coughing, blood now staining his teeth.
His pained noise snapped you back into your body, and you were suddenly moving, shuffling forward on your knees and pressing your hands into his gut. His hot blood pulsed through your fingers, slow and getting slower, and panic started to crawl up your throat.
“Goddamn it, Munson,” you said through your tears, keeping one hand on his stomach as you used the other to unknot the flannel tied around your waist. “Why’d you have to go and be such an idiot?”
You balled up the flannel and then quickly replaced your hand with it. Eddie groaned as you pressed down hard, but you needed to stop the bleeding.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you still muttered, hating the fact that you were hurting him.
Dustin’s voice was like the crack of a gun in the otherwise silent trailer park, making you flinch, but you refused to turn and face him. You listened as he stumbled across the bat-strewn asphalt, and a moment later, he was collapsing onto his knees on the other side of Eddie.
“Oh, god,” the boy whimpered, tears already streaking down his face. “Oh, god, Eddie.”
“Bad, huh?” the metalhead grunted beneath you, and you could feel how he struggled to get the words out.
Panic had latched onto the back of your tongue, pulling itself hand over hand upwards, and you knew you were moments away from screaming and never stopping.
“No, no, you’re gonna be fine,” Dustin said as he reached out and gently stroked the top of Eddie’s head. “J-Just gotta get you to a hospital, okay?”
Hospital. The word rang through your head like a bell. You needed to get him to a hospital. If you could get him back through the gate, it was less than a ten minute drive, especially while speeding. He could make it.
He had to.
“Yes, yes, a hospital, we gotta get to the hospital,” you mumbled, the filter between your thoughts and words nonexistent now. Eddie’s blood was still burning your hands like a brand, but the flannel hadn’t soaked through yet. If you kept applying steady pressure, everything would be fine. “Dustin, I need rope, your shirt, anything that I can use to tie this flannel against him.”
“Y-Yeah, of course, here,” Dustin said, immediately shucking off part of his outfit. He handed you something that was part mesh, part ghillie suit, but it was elastic and flexible, which was what you needed.
“Okay, Eddie, I’m gonna have to shift you a little,” you warned, keeping one hand pressed to his torso as you slid your other one— the one holding the mesh fabric —underneath his side.
“Sure,” the dark-haired man mumbled, but his voice was very light, little more than a breath, and his eyes were starting to flutter.
You couldn’t waste any more time, so you shoved your arm beneath him. You skin scraped across the asphalt, tiny pinpricks of pain, but they were so easy to ignore as the you shoved your hand out on the other side of him.
“Dustin, grab it,” you ordered, and when he did, you quickly withdrew your hand and pressed it beside your other one on the man’s stomach. “This might hurt, Eddie, I’m sorry.”
“Wait, wait.” His dark brown eyes flickered open, finding yours. They looked so tired. And scared. “I-I think I just… need a second, okay?”
Dustin stifled a sob beside you, but your eyes were dry as you glared down at the man bleeding out beneath your fingers.
“Eddie, we don’t have a second,” you said. “We need to stop this bleeding before we can even move you, and then we have to somehow get you through the gate, and the hospital is still like ten minutes away, and goddamn it, why did you do this Munson?”
You gasped for breath at the end of your rant, your throat constricting, and the backs of your eyes started to feel hot again.
No, stop it, you couldn’t cry. You couldn’t cry because Eddie wasn’t going to die. You kept repeating this to yourself, even as Eddie coughed again, the sound wet, and smiled weakly up at you.
“I-I didn’t run away this time, though, right?” he asked, a begging for validation behind his dark eyes.
“No, no, you didn’t run,” Dustin said, voice choked.
“You’re… gonna have to look after those little sheep for me, okay, Henderson?” Eddie’s eyes slid from you to the boy on his other side, and his resigned tone suddenly infuriated you.
“No,” you snarled, Dustin sobbing out the same word. You pried one of your hands off Eddie’s stomach, leaning forward and grabbing both of Dustin’s. Your fingers were tacky with blood against his skin, but you ignored it as you met the kid’s eyes and maneuvered his hands. “Keep applying pressure. Hard. Here and here. Don’t let up.”
“W-What are you doing?” Dustin asked, but he did as instructed while you half turned and groped behind you.
You didn’t respond as your fingers closed around the haft of Eddie’s makeshift spear.
“Henderson,” Eddie coughed, but you refused to look at him. “Say it. Say ‘I’m gonna look after them.’”
“No, you’re gonna do that yourself,” Dustin sniffled as you turned back to face them.
You glanced down and saw blood was starting to drip from the flannel.
“Say it.” Eddie’s face was pleading.
“Don’t say shit, Dustin,” you growled, and then you leaned over and down so your face was hovering just over Eddie’s. “Do you hear that, Munson? I’m not letting your ass die, so shut the fuck up.”
Eddie’s bloody face twitched, too many emotions to name rippling across it, but you tore your eyes away and turned to Dustin.
“When I tell you to, move,” you said as you dug around in your pocket for the Zippo. Once it was in your hands, you flicked it open and laid the homemade spear across your lap.
“B-But I thought you said not t— what are you doing?” Dustin cut himself off, his wide eyes staring at where you were now running the Zippo’s flame along the knife used as the spear’s head.
“Pressure isn’t enough, he’s still bleeding,” you said in a flat, robotic tone, your eyes never leaving the lighter’s flame. “We need to cauterize the wounds. It’s the only way we’ll get him out of here in time.”
“Shittttt,” Dustin whined, and you knew if his hands weren’t glued to Eddie’s gut, they would be tearing at his hair.
“That… doesn’t sound fun,” Eddie rasped quietly.
“It won’t be,” you snapped and finally tore your eyes away from where the flat edge of the knife was beginning to glow orange. “That’s what you get for being stupid.”
“Aww, come on, princess.” He cracked a bloody smile. “You… can’t give me my hero moment? I-I think I was pretty badass. Let me go out in a blaze of glory.”
“No,” you spat, your voice cracking again as tears abruptly returned to your eyes with a vengeance. “No, because what about me? What the fuck am I supposed to do with you gone, Munson?”
Eddie blinked slowly at you, a numb sort of surprise flickering across his features.
“You’ll… be okay,” he said after a moment.
“No, I won’t,” you countered vehemently, and tears started to slip down your cheeks, dropping onto Eddie’s face and neck. “I won’t be okay. Because you’ll be dead, and I’ll spend the rest of my life in love with a goddamn ghost.”
You didn’t mean to say it, had told yourself you would take your embarrassing crush to the grave, but your mind was starting to spiral in desperation.
Eddie’s dark-brown eyes widened, but you snapped your head up to glare at Dustin.
The boy ripped his hands away and fell back on his ass, and you dropped the Zippo, using your now free hand to shove the bloody flannel and Eddie’s Hellfire shirt up and out of the way. His pale torso was soaked in blood, the crimson blocking out some of his tattoos, and you could see where it was still oozing from. Jagged bite and slash marks littered his ribs and sides, but your eyes quickly identified the two worst ones, the ones that were making him lose too much blood.
The spearhead was still glowing as you maneuvered it over Eddie’s torso, and you couldn’t help but find his eyes again.
They were still wide with fear and surprise, but you thought you saw trust there too in the dark depths of his gaze.
Without thinking about it, you leaned down and pressed your lips to his. Eddie drew in a ragged gasp, and you briefly darted your tongue into his mouth, tasting blood. Then you pulled back and stared into his eyes.
“Don’t you fucking die on me, Munson,” you murmured in the space between your mouths.
“Y-Yes, ma’am,” he exhaled, and you seized the moment to position the hot spearhead over the worst of his wounds and press down.
The sound and smell of sizzling flesh hit you, and Eddie yelled out wordlessly as his back arched.
“Stay still, stay still,” you begged, trying not to stab him with the knife pressed to his skin.
Dustin leaped forward and pressed down on Eddie’s shoulder and thigh, anchoring him to the ground and whispering reassurances.
You counted to ten in your head and then carefully pried the knife away from his side. The skin was still streaked with crimson, and now it was red and raised in an angry, jagged pattern that matched the serrated edge of the knife. But no new blood trickled from the wound, and relief made your head swim.
You would still need to get him to a hospital for any internal injuries, but if you could stop the external bleeding, it would buy him some time.
“Okay, okay, just one more,” you panted, picking up the Zippo in shaking fingers to reheat the flat of the blade.
“You hear that, Eddie?” Dustin asked and shook him a little. “Just a little more.”
Eddie choked out a laugh, his eyes glassy and unfocused as he stared up at the dark sky. “’S’all good. It… doesn’t even really hurt anymore.”
Dustin whimpered, and you gritted your teeth, burning the tips of your fingers as you all but pressed the flame into the knife.
“Hey, Munson? Munson! What year is it?” you asked frantically.
“Hmmm, ’86, baby,” Eddie hummed, his voice sleepy. “My year. I think it’s finally… gonna be my year.”
“That’s right.” The flat of the blade was now orange, so you dropped the Zippo again and zeroed in on the second-worst bite. “So you gotta stay alive. It’s your year, and you’re going to graduate, and the second shit settles down, you’re taking me on a date.”
“Am… I?” His dark eyes refocused a little and found yours.
“Yes,” you said and steeled yourself. “So, keep breathing and focus on me.”
“Second part’s n-not hard at all, sweetheart.” He smiled weakly at you, but then his face contorted as you pressed the hot metal into his skin once more. “F-Fuck! Shitshitshit.”
“Shhh, I know, I’m sorry, so sorry,” you babbled as Dustin whined but held Eddie down.
You counted to ten again before pulling the blade away, and again, the skin was ugly and raised, but sealed. Your eyes danced over Eddie’s torso, but the rest of the bite and slash marks were shallow, most already clotted over. It was like the bats only got two good bites in before you started barbequing them.
Thank fucking Christ.
“Okay, okay, that’s it.” You dropped the spear and then hurriedly tugged your flannel and his shirt back over his stomach. You pressed the flannel against his gut, grabbing the mesh ghillie suit that was still underneath him and quickly tying it around his waist.
Eddie groaned, but when you were done, his torso was bound good and tight, and with the worst of the wounds cauterized, you should be able to move him.
He just needed to stay awake and keep breathing a little while longer.
“I-Is it done?” Dustin asked, his voice quiet and sounding much younger than he actually was. “Is he… gonna be okay?”
“I’ve done all I can, and most of the bleeding’s stopped,” you said, and you glanced from the curly-haired boy to the panting man beneath you. “We still need to get him to the hospital. ASAP. Do you hear that, Eddie? We gotta move.”
“I… don’t think I can,” he sighed, eyes fluttering, struggling to find yours. “S-So sleepy.”
“Hey, hey.” You reached out and cupped his face, trying to keep him awake, and his gaze cleared a little as it met yours. “What’s that line, from the Return of the King? The one Sam says to Frodo on the slopes of Mount Doom? When Frodo says he can’t go on.”
Eddie blinked up at you, a small crease forming between his eyebrows, but Dustin beat him to it.
“I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you,” the kid recited from memory, and a smile bloomed across your face.
“Yeah, that one,” you said, shifting so you were crouching on your heels instead of kneeling. “I can carry you. But I need you to at least sit up for me. Can you do that, Munson?”
Eddie stared at you with an expression you couldn’t place. He looked on the precipice of either breaking out into tears or into a smile, but his eyes were steady as they held yours.
“Obi,” he breathed, but you could already hear it in his tone, so you started shaking your head.
“Nope, nuh-uh, I’m not hearing any arguments. Can you sit up, yes or no?”
Eddie pursed his lips before jerking his chin down once.
“Alright, Henderson, help me sit him up,” you said, gently tucking your fingers under Eddie’s right shoulder while Dustin did the same on the left. “Slowly!”
Together, you and Dustin painstakingly levered Eddie upright.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the metalhead hissed through gritted teeth, and then he slumped against you once you had him in a seated position. His breath was hot and damp against the skin of your collarbones, his forehead pressed into the crook of your neck.
“Still with me, Munson?” you murmured as you wrapped your left arm around his back.
“Present and accounted for,” he groaned, rolling his brow against your good shoulder.
“Good, good. Now…” You shifted a little in your crouched position, your thighs and knees beginning to burn. “I need you to drape your arm around my shoulders, and I’m going to wrap mine around your waist. On three, we’re going to stand up, and Dustin’s going to slip under your other arm. Alright?”
“M’kay,” Eddie sighed as he nuzzled his nose behind your ear. “You smell good, Obi.”
Any other time, that sentence would have made butterflies explode into flight in your stomach, but you could hear the slur in his words, and you knew he wasn’t going to stay conscious much longer. The three of you needed to get back through the gate before he passed out.
“You can smell me all you want later, yeah?” you said and jostled him. “Drape your arm over my shoulder, Munson.”
Eddie hummed wordlessly but listened, so you made sure your hold on him was secure before you took a deep breath.
“Okay, one, two, three!”
You shoved upwards, body aching from the strain of Eddie’s additional weight. He was practically limp against you, but you got the pair of you upright, and he managed to somewhat stay on his feet.
“Alright, good,” you grunted, swaying, and you dug your fingers into Eddie’s opposite hip. The hand you had wrapped around his back was the one that demo-bat slashed, and you could feel your own blood still dripping down your skin, but you ignored it as you looked at Dustin. “Grab that spear. Something weird happened to the bats, I didn’t kill them all, so more might come back.”
“Shit, I hope not,” Dustin said, but he picked up the spear anyway before he moved to Eddie’s other side.
It was then you noticed his limp, and your eyes narrowed.
“Henderson, what happened to your leg?” you demanded.
“Well, what happened to your shoulder?” he shot back, raising his eyebrows at the shoulder Eddie wasn’t collapsed against, the one that was starting to ache something fierce now that the adrenaline was beginning to fade.
You winced and then sighed. You couldn’t reprimand him for something you had also done.
“Okay, fine, but never mind helping us,” you said, and you tucked your fingers into the belt loop on Eddie’s opposite side. “I can get him. Just… keep an eye out and lead us back to the gate.”
Dustin frowned, but his leg must have really been hurting because he didn’t argue. He just nodded, spared Eddie one more glance, and turned toward the Munson trailer.
“Alright, Munson, just put one foot in front of the other for me,” you murmured as you dragged your left foot forward.
Eddie stumbled after you, his weight dragging you down, but he stayed upright, his head lolling against your shoulder.
“’M so tired, Obi,” he sighed into your ear. “Can’t I nap first? I’ll study after, promise.”
His words were both slurred and nonsensical now, and you swallowed past the lump in your throat and quickened your pace as much as you could.
“No can do, Munson. We gotta get back to your trailer first.”
“Hmmm… and you gonna spend the night? Got this… new strain from Rick. ‘s killer.”
You’d spent the night at his place before, usually when you were too stoned or tired to drive back to your mom’s house and have her new boyfriend bitch at you for coming in so late. Of course, nothing had ever happened between you and Eddie, besides you drooling on his shoulder or on his couch, but the memory of being so close to him, his warm body pressed to your side while you watched some cheesy horror movie, made you want to scream.
Because his face felt so cold where it was pressed into your neck now.
“Yeah, I’ll stay the night,” you said in an effort to keep Eddie awake. “We can get as high as you want, and I’ll even let you practice Master of Puppets again.”
“I’ve almost… nailed the solo,” Eddie sighed into your hair. “So close. It’s going to be so m-metal.”
The memory of him playing on top of the trailer, rocking out even as an army of bats descended on him, made a slightly hysterical giggle slip from your lips.
“You’re right, it was so metal,” you said just as he stumbled, and you grunted as you caught him. “Hey. Hey, Munson. Eddie!”
“Hmmm?” he hummed, but he started walking again, and you could see his trailer in the distance.
“We’re almost there, so close, just keep walking for me, okay?” You met Dustin’s eye from where he was limping a few feet ahead of you, and while he still looked scared shitless, there was a hint of hope in his gaze now.
“H-Hey, Eddie,” Dustin stammered out, his voice high-pitched. “I-I was thinking, after you graduate, to celebrate, the club should have a one-shot night, and one of the other guys can DM. That way, you can be a player again a-and see that the torch has rightly been passed on. Obi wanted to play too, right, Obi?”
“Y-Yeah,” you said, though this was the first you’d ever even heard of this idea. “I’ve watched you guys play long enough. What do you say, Munson? Help me build a character?”
“You’re a Rouge,” Eddie laughed before he coughed again, and his feet tangled. You managed to keep the two of you from falling over, but his breath was ragged in your ear.
“Really, why?” The question just fell out of your mouth, anything to keep him talking, and Eddie could talk about DnD for hours.
“Sneaky,” he muttered, head lolling against yours, his arm that was draped over your shoulders weighing down on your neck like a yoke. “Sneaky little thief.”
“When have you ever seen me steal something, Munson?” The trailer was so close now, the steps just yards away, the remnants of the front door hanging from its hinges.
“Sneaky,” Eddie said again, but it was more like a sigh. “Snuck into my chest and… stole my heart. Whisked it away and hid it somewhere.”
Now, your feet tripped against each other. You knew he was delirious, barely conscious, speaking nonsense. But a part of you— a very small part buried beneath all the fear and anxiety and fading adrenaline— couldn’t help but wonder.
Did he… share your feelings?
Unfortunately, your brief trip to fantasy land was abruptly cancelled, because Eddie suddenly went completely limp against you and started to pitch forward.
“Eddie!” you gasped, trying to grab him, your arms screaming in pain.
Luckily, Dustin lunged back and helped catch the metalhead, but the two of you couldn’t keep him upright, so you lowered him onto the ground just in front of the steps to his trailer.
“Shit!” Dustin cursed, and he started to hyperventilate. “Shit, no. I-Is he--?”
“He’s alive,” you sighed in relief as you cupped a hand in front of Eddie’s mouth. His breathing was slow but even, just like his pulse when you groped under his neck to check. “I think he just passed out. His… body’s been though a lot.”
“Oh, okay,” Dustin said before he took a deep breath to recompose himself.
Of course, that was when the ground started rumbling beneath you, the Munson trailer creaking ominously.
You and Dustin stared wide-eyed at each other for a long moment, but then the rumbling worsened, followed by red lightning cracking across the sky again, and Dustin grasped at his head.
“Shit, what do we do?!” he wailed.
You glanced down at Eddie’s slack and bloody face for the briefest instant before you started moving.
“Grab his feet and help me get him in the trailer, Henderson,” you ordered, shifting so you could pick up Eddie’s shoulders. “Then you’re going to find whatever sheets or fabric you can in under thirty seconds and tie them together. Ready? On three.”
Dustin scrambled to comply, and as the world continued to shake at the seams around you, you focused on the rise and fall of Eddie’s chest.
He was alive, alive, alive, and you were going to do whatever you had to in order to keep him that way.
Two Days Later
Another yawn cracked your jaw as you slumped in the hard plastic chair, and you shook your head, trying to wake up a little.
The sunlight coming through the windows behind you was an orange bordering on red, and the clock on the wall said it was just past seven pm. The sun would set completely soon, and you knew you needed to eat something for dinner, having skipped breakfast and snagging chips from the vending machine for lunch. Your stomach gurgled in agreement, but your heavy eyes and sore body kept you glued to your seat.
The steady beating of the heart monitor wasn’t helping either, the even rhythm like a metronome trying to lull you to sleep, and you scrubbed your face with your right hand, since you left was bundle up in a sling.
As you tiredly dragged your fingers down your cheek, your gaze drifted over to the still form on the bed. In front of you lay Eddie Munson, still breathing, still alive, but pale, his cheeks lacking their usual color, his lips cracked and peeling. He looked… smaller wrapped in bandages and a hospital gown, tucked under sterile white sheets. He also hadn’t woken up since he passed out on the steps of his trailer in the Upside Down. The doctors assured you he would. He’d had some minor internal bleeding, like you expected, but it only took you fifteen minutes after he passed out to get him through the doors of the hospital.
You’d almost killed yourself getting back through the gate, and then almost fallen into a miles’ wide sinkhole, and then nearly crashed the car as you were speeding down the road in a stolen vehicle while the earth quaked to the foundations of Hawkins, but you got Eddie here in time. The doctors said so. He would have some bad scarring— part of that your fault— but once his body recovered from the blood loss, he should be okay.
He just had to wake up.
You glared at Eddie’s sleeping face as you willed him to move, twitch, anything, but he stayed still and silent, and you sighed as you painstakingly got to your feet. You’d been sitting in that chair for hours now, like you had all night and the previous day. You needed to stretch.
Even though it somewhat pained you, you tore your eyes away from Eddie and moved to the window, staring impassively at the orange sky streaked with what look like black smoke, gray ash fluttering down to build upon the windowsill.
Steve had already called to tell you what was going on. Apparently, Mike, his superhero girlfriend Eleven— who you had yet to meet— and some of the others had seen the gates worsening with their own eyes. They were holding a strategy meeting at the Wheelers’ at eight, which Steve invited you to, and you wondered if there would be food there.
You knew you should be more worried, more scared, but all you felt was tired and numb. Everything kind of felt… suspended around you, like the deep breath before a plunge. You were waiting. Waiting for Eddie to wake up. Once he did, you could worry about the gates and the end of the world and whatever else. As long as he was awake.
You continued to stare blindly out at the sky and wondered how it had come to this.
You’d actually grown up in Hawkins. Had fond memories of biking around town, playing in the woods when you were young. Then, when you were about ten, your father got a new job in a bigger city, and he moved you and your mother out of Hawkins for this “great, new opportunity.” That lasted a few years, but when that job fell through, like they always did for your father, your mother finally had enough. She divorced him, and he signed away all his rights, so your mom moved the two of you back to her hometown, completely ignoring that it was your senior year.
She definitely regretted that now.
Small towns were pretty close-knit, so for the ten months you spent at Hawkins High, you mostly kept to yourself. You got good grades since you were good at memorizing and regurgitating information, but your mother was too busy with her new boyfriend to notice. They’d gone to your graduation, though, so that was something at least.
But you didn’t have the money to go to college. At least, not right away. So, you got a summer job at the mall slinging ice cream with Steve “the Hair” Harrington. You’d seen him around school since he was in your graduating class, but since you kept to yourself, you’d never had any interactions with him. He was actually cooler than his reputation made him out to be, in a kind of dorky, endearing way, and you had fun shooting the shit with him, Robin Buckley, and the children that just seemed to flock to Steve for some reason. You’d especially liked Dustin Henderson, specifically because he seemed to get under Steve’s skin in the most hilarious, annoying little brother way.
Then, of course, you got pulled into the whole “Russian spy/Oh-yeah-monsters-are-real” game, which wasn’t how you accepted to spend your summer last year.
But it wasn’t all bad. For the first time in your life, you had real friends. Friends who would literally die for you, and vice versa. Even after the world had been saved— or so you thought at the time— they still stuck around. Robin even helped you get a job at Family Video, and despite some reoccurring nightmares, you were… happy.
Then Dustin and the other kids started high school, met the Hellfire Club, met… Eddie.
Steve always complained about how much Dustin went on and on about this Eddie, but you thought it was sweet. You’d heard of Eddie Munson during your time at Hawkins High, but you never had any classes with him, and you always kept your head down in the halls and left immediately after school. Steven scoffed and rolled his eyes, said Eddie was just a stoner loser, which made Dustin heartily protest, and it always devolved into an argument either you or Robin had to break up.
You could admit you were curious about this Eddie Munson, but it was a mild curiosity.
Then, one rainy day in the fall, when Dustin blew out one of his bike tires and needed a ride home after Hellfire, you offered to pick him up since Steve had a shift that night. You’d run into the room where the club was wrapping up their session, dripping water everywhere, and when you finally shook your wet hair out of your face and looked up, your eyes immediately locked onto dark-brown ones that were staring at you with interest.
You suspected that was the moment you fell in love with Eddie Munson. But the next moment— the one where Dustin introduced you, and Eddie slid off his throne and onto his feet before dipping into a graceful, flourishing bow— was a close second.
For the next several weeks, Dustin had asked you to pick him up from Hellfire, but after Mike let it slip that Dustin’s bike was already fixed, you’d asked the curly-haired boy why. He’d reluctantly admitted that Eddie asked him to bring you around, so the next time the club met, you drove up to the school. Dustin was already leaving with Lucas and Mike, the three of them waving from their bikes, and Eddie had blinked at you in shock when he saw you leaning against your car. Then a wide smile bloomed across his face, crinkling his eyes, and it was all downhill from there.
You started spending time with Eddie in the afternoons or evenings or on your days off from the video store, and you quickly discovered that the hardcore metalhead persona was just a mask. The real Eddie Munson was a nerd through and through. But he was also sweet, funny, quick to smile and quicker to make you laugh.
The two of you spent hours talking about everything and nothing, passing joints back and forth until they were just ashes. You learned that he was actually pretty smart and well-read. His dog-earned copies of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings were worn from use and even annotated, and one night, when the two of you were really high, he read a passage from one of the books, doing all the different voices. You had dissolved into giggles at some point, pushed over the edge by a particularly ridiculously voice, and Eddie had looked so proud of himself, dimples prominently framing his wide grin.
His DnD campaigns were also incredibly complex and compelling, and you told him he could honestly be a writer someday. He had blushed and laughed you off, saying he was probably never even going to graduate high school, and the defeat in his voice had twisted your heart. So, you’d offered to tutor him, help him study, in the hopes of getting him to graduation. Eddie moaned and complained at first, but he let you quiz him with flashcards, started taking notes, and his grades had gone up a little in the last few months. As he’d crowed to the Hellfire Club numerous times, he had just needed to pass Ms. O’Donall’s final.
Of course, none of that mattered anymore. Half the town had already fled, and the school was being used as an evacuation center for those who remained. You’d heard rumors that the school administration was just going to pass all its students for the year, to make the paperwork for transferring easier, but you weren’t sure if that was true or not.
You hoped it was. Eddie deserved some good news when he woke up.
You sighed again and knew you needed to start heading for the Wheelers’. With one more glance at the darkening sky, you turned away from the window and went to pick up your jacket from the back of your chair.
But when you looked up, your eyes clashed with dark-brown ones, staring at you with interest.
“Jesus H. Christ!” you gasped, stumbling back a step as your right, bandaged hand flew to your chest.
Your heart was pounding in your ears, and Eddie Munson was staring back at you from the hospital bed. His gaze was glassy and a little disoriented, but it was focused on you, and after a moment, his dry lips parted, his tongue snaking out to wet them.
“Hey, Obi,” he rasped, and a faint smile tugged at his mouth.
You exhaled a sound halfway between a sob and a choke, and then you were stumbling forward, shoving the chair out of the way so you could sit on the edge of the bed.
“H-Holy shit,” you stuttered out, tears blurring your vision as you took Eddie’s hand in yours. His palm was warm against your own. “Fuck, Munson. Y-You took your damn time waking up.”
“ ’M sorry,” he sighed, but his fingers squeezed yours, and a tear finally escaped and trailed down your cheek. Eddie frowned at the sight, and his glassy gaze cleared a little bit. “Why… are you crying, princess?”
You choked out a laugh, more tears spilling down your cheeks. “Because you’re in the hospital, dingus. You almost died.”
“Oh, yeah.” He blinked placidly up at you for a moment, but then his eyes widened, and you heard on the monitor as his heart began to race. “Shit, wait, what happened? I-I remember the bats— Fuck! Where’s Henderson, is he okay? And what about Harrington? Wheeler? Sinclair? And the redhead, oh, fuck, did Vecna get her?”
“Eddie,” you tried to cut in, but he was fully starting to panic now, his fingers digging into your hand, his breath coming out in shallow pants.
“A-And am I in the Hawkins hospital? What about the cops? Fuck, are they on their way? Do we need to start running? I—”
“Eddie!” you said, this time louder, and he cut off with a gasp, his wild and terrified eyes staring into yours.
“Y-Yes?” he asked, his voice quiet and timid.
“Take a deep breath, Christ,” you sighed, and you would have run a hand through your hair if one of them wasn’t in a sling and the other held in a death grip by long, slender fingers, rough with guitar callouses.
Eddie inhaled shakily through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, and his eyes never left yours.
“Good,” you said, a weak but genuine smile stretching across your face. “Now, one thing at a time. What do you want to know first?”
“Henderson,” Eddie blurted without hesitation. “Is he alive?”
“Yes.” You nodded. “Dustin’s fine, just has a sprained ankle. Steve, Nancy, Robin, and Lucas are also fine. And Max is… alive.”
“I don’t like that tone, Obi,” Eddie said as he frowned at you. “What happened?”
He could always read you too easily.
“Vecna… did get her,” you sighed, eyes dropping to where your hand was intertwined with his. “Partially. Mike’s superhero girlfriend Eleven was able to beat him, but… Max is in rough shape. The doctors aren’t sure if she’ll wake up again.”
“Shit,” Eddie breathed, his face twisting. “That… sucks.”
His response startled a snort out of you, and his cheeks flushed a light pink.
“I-I’m sorry, that was stupid to say, I’m just drugged up—” he started to ramble, but you squeezed his hand and smiled at him again.
“No, you’re right, it sucks,” you agreed. “It fucking sucks royally. But apparently there’s a chance Eleven might be able to wake Max up, so there’s some hope.”
“Well, that’s good,” Eddie said, but then he shifted slightly and flinched.
“Are you okay?” you immediately asked, your eyes falling to his stomach, half-anticipating to see him bleeding through his gown.
“Fine, fine, just… sore,” he groaned and pressed his head back into the pillow, his long hair a dark halo around him. “Everywhere.”
“Welcome to the club,” you scoffed, awkwardly waving your sling-bound arm like a chicken wing.
Eddie frowned at your arm before his eyes found yours again. “How did that happen?”
“Well…” You bit your lip. “How much you do remember? From right before you passed out.”
“I… remember jamming out on top of the trailer,” Eddie started slowly as a crease formed in the middle of his brow. “I remember the bats, running from the bats, the bats getting into the trailer, and… oh.”
He flinched again, a little guilt beginning to leech into his eyes, and you knew he’d remembered his “decision.”
“Yeah, oh,” you repeated, your voice taking on an edge as you glared down at him. “You, Edward Munson, decided to fucking oh-so-heroically sacrifice yourself.”
“Aw, come on, Obi.” He tried for a smile, but it withered as your glare increased. “Okay, I know you’re angry, but I couldn’t just let you get eaten by monster bats. Y-You and Henderson, I mean. I was trying to give you both enough time to escape.”
“Did you honestly think we would just leave you there?” you demanded. You tried to sound angry— were angry— but you voice came out a little hurt.
“Well…” Eddie said as he chewed the dry skin off his lower lip. “I’d hoped you would. Especially after I cut the sheets down.”
“All that succeeded in doing was making it harder for Dustin and I to get back, which resorted in his sprained ankle, and my fractured fucking shoulder.” Your words were sharper than you meant them to be, and Eddie winced like you’d struck him. He averted his gaze and started to extract his hand from yours, but you clamped your fingers down around his. “Wait, no, I—”
You cut yourself off, sighed, and took a deep breath.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you, I’m sorry,” you muttered, running your thumb across the backs of Eddie’s knuckles. “I just… god, Munson. Do you know how fucking terrified I was when I saw those bats circling you? And don’t get me started on how much blood you lost. I nearly lost my goddamn mind trying to stop the bleeding.”
“You… burned me,” Eddie said, and his eyes narrowed as he fought to remember.
“Yes.” Now, it was your turn to flinch. “To stop the bleeding. I-I didn’t wanna hurt you, but it was the only way—”
“Calm down, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckled, and that lopsided grin you loved so much spread across his face. “You obviously did everything right, since I’m sitting here talkin’ to ya.”
You exhaled shakily because he was right. You’d kept him alive. That was the important part.
“Yeah, well, lugging your ass through that gate certainly wasn’t easy,” you scoffed, but you flashed him a smirk to show you were partially joking.
“How’d ya do it?” Eddie asked, settling back into the pillows as he absently played with your fingers.
“Well, the earthquake certainly didn’t give us a lot of time—” you started.
“Wait, what earthquake?”
“Would you let me finish?” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him, and he sheepishly smiled.
“Sorry, go on,” he muttered.
“Like I said,” you sighed. “Right after you passed out, it felt like the Upside Down was trying to shake apart. So, Dustin and I carried you into the trailer, and Dustin tied together any fabric he could find while I used the furniture to prop up the mattress vertically beneath the gate. Dustin helped tie you to my back in the weirdest piggyback ride ever, and then he clambered up the mattress and through the portal. You and I more fell through, but Henderson made sure we had a landing pad this time, so minimal injury on that front. Then we hauled ass to the hospital. But…”
You trailed off and bit your lip, unsure of how to break the bad news to him.
“But what?” Eddie asked with a furrowed brow.
“But the earthquakes didn’t stop,” you went on as you tightened your grip on his hand. “The gates… grew. They fucking split Hawkins in half. And… they swallowed your trailer.”
“Oh, shit,” Eddie breathed, his face paling, and then his nails dug into your skin. “Shit, Wayne?”
“Wayne’s fine,” you quickly assured him. “He was at the plant when it happened. He was actually here just a while ago. Went out to find something to eat.”
“Thank fucking Christ,” he sighed as some of the tension fled his body, but his eyes quickly found yours again. “So, the trailer’s just… gone, huh?”
“Yes.” You nodded and stroked your thumb across his knuckles again. “Along with half of Hawkins. Butttttt… Henderson was able to grab a few things while I was starting up the car.”
Eddie cocked his head at you curiously, his bangs trailing across his forehead, and you fought the urge to brush them back.
You smiled instead and tried to extract your hand from his, but his grip clamped down around you, and his brown eyes went a little panicked.
“It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere,” you soothed. “Just need to reach under my chair, and I only have one hand at the moment.”
A blush stained Eddie’s cheeks, and he reluctantly released your fingers. “Sorry.”
You just continued to smile at him as you stood and turned around. A small box had been stashed under your chair, but you’d kicked it out of your way when you’d rushed to Eddie’s side earlier. The cardboard box was shoved against the wall beneath the window, and you stifled a groan as you bent down and picked it up with one arm.
“It’s… not a lot,” you grunted as you set the box on the edge of the bed, pressed to Eddie’s thigh. “Mostly just what Dustin could sweep or throw in a box in under ten seconds. But it’s something, and I’d thought you’d like to have something familiar when you woke up.”
Eddie wiggled a little in the bed, wincing as he struggled upright.
“Here, let me help,” you said, leaning over to press the button on the side of the bed. The head of the mattress started to slowly raise, but you didn’t want to put too much pressure on Eddie’s gut yet, so you left the bed in a half reclined position. Then you hit another button to turn up the lights since the sun had fully set by this point, and Eddie blinked in the sudden brightness.
“Alright, what do we got here?” the metalhead asked as he peeked into the box, but his teasing expression turned soft when he saw the contents.
Slowly, he pulled out a few cassettes— Iron Maiden, Megadeath, Judas Priest— along with faded Metallica t-shirt, one of his favorites. Next was his DnD binder, stuffed full of notes, campaigns, and character sheets. And lastly, there were his copies of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings.
“Goddamn Henderson,” Eddie muttered with a fond expression, and his eyes grew glassy again, this time with tears.
“He also managed to grab your guitar,” you added and grinned, saving the best for last.
“Are you fucking serious?” Eddie gasped as his gaze snapped to yours.
“He’s got it at his house,” you chuckled. “Said he’d keep it safe for you until you got out of the hospital.”
“That fucking kid.” Eddie grinned and shook his head, but his smile slowly faded.
“What?” you asked as you studied his troubled face.
Eddie slowly put all his things back into the box and nudged it back at you, so you took it and set it on the ground at your feet.
“Obi, be honest with me.” He met your eyes dead-on. “Am I going straight to jail from here? Are the cops just waiting for me to wake up to arrest me?”
“Not… exactly,” you said, pursing your lips. “It’s complicated.”
“Oh, you’re killing me, princess,” he groaned. “Am I bound for the gallows or not?”
“You’re not,” you clarified. “All of Hawkins, the police department especially, have more pressing matters to focus on at the moment. Plus, um, Lucas kind of pinned the whole thing on Jason.”
“What?!” Eddie’s voice rose in pitch, and his eyes bulged out of his head. “And the cops believed Sinclair?”
“Well, they kind of had to.” You shrugged. “Especially since Jason couldn’t defend himself. Given the fact he’s dead. But he’s half the reason Max got hurt anyway. He found her and Lucas, attacked Lucas, and broke Max’s Walkman. Then he apparently got cut in half by the gate widening, so Lucas told the cops that Jason was the one who killed Chrissy. He thought Chrissy was cheating on him with you, so he killed her and framed you for the murder. Then he just went psycho, killing more people, and he confessed all this to Lucas before he tragically died in the earthquake.”
Eddie’s eyes grew larger and larger as you spoke, and when you finished, he exhaled sharply.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his gaze growing distant. “So does that mean… I’m free?”
“For the most part, yeah.” You smiled. “Half the town has fled in the last couple days, and the ones that are left are too busy worrying about the rest of Hawkins just falling into hell. The police exonerated you yesterday at an emergency town meeting, but no one seemed to really care anymore.”
“Fucking figures,” Eddie grumbled, and he rolled his eyes. “They were all up in arms to drag me through town and burn me at the stake, but now they’ve probably already forgotten my name.”
“Good,” you said as you reached out and took his hand again. “Those fuckers don’t deserve to utter your name anyway.”
Eddie seemed taken back for a moment, face slack with surprise, but he quickly covered it up with a smirk.
“Damn straight, sweetheart.” He winked before dropping his head back with a sigh. A moment of silence passed between the two of you, and then Eddie snorted before he started laughing.
“What?” you asked, his laughter contagious, pulling your lips upward.
“Nothin’.” He shook his head, still chuckling. “It’s just… guess I’m not graduating this year, either. ’86 wasn’t my year after all.”
“Actually,” you said as your smile grew, “I heard a rumor the school is just going to pass everyone. You know, in the wake of the ‘disaster.’ So I wouldn’t throw your towel in yet, Munson. I still think ’86 is going to be your year.”
Eddie grinned, a full grin this time, every inch the lively, crazy boy you’d known for months. His brown eyes sparkled with that mischievous glint you loved so much, and he abruptly lifted the hand that was intertwined with yours and pressed a smacking kiss to the back of your knuckles.
“’86, baby,” he crowed. “My year. And it’s all thanks to you, Obi.”
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, falling back into your usual song and dance, but Eddie suddenly grew serious.
“I mean it,” he said, all traces of laughter gone from his voice. His dark-brown eyes bored into yours, and your breath hitched in your chest. “I would have flunked out months ago without you pushing me to study, and I would have bled out in that fucked up place if you hadn’t saved me. I owe you. More than I can ever repay. But once I get out of this damn bed, find a place to live, and get a job, I’ll figure out how I can start. You know, if the world doesn’t end before then.”
“Excuses, excuses, Munson,” you teased but averted your gaze, uncomfortable with how deeply he was staring into you. You cast your mind about for something, anything else to say, and words tumbled from your mouth before you could fully process them. “M-My house didn’t get swallowed by the gate, so you could just stay with me, you know. J-Just until you find something else. Or the world ends. Whichever comes first.”
You laughed awkwardly, but you could still feel Eddie staring at you, and when you darted a glance in his direction, his eyes were wide. He quickly cleared his throat when he caught your gaze, but you could see your offer had surprised him.
“W-Well, that’s awfully kind of you, princess,” he stuttered out before plastering on a smile. “But I’m sure your mom won’t be thrilled to have the Munson men move in. And I can’t leave Wayne by himself.”
“Wayne can come, too,” you blurted out, dropping your gaze again. You stared at your scraped up knuckles, intertwined with Eddie’s, and tried to fight back your blush. “A-And my mom won’t be a problem. She… left.”
“She… left?” Eddie repeated in an incredulous tone. “What the hell do you mean, ‘she left?’”
“She left.” You shrugged, still refusing to look at him. “Yesterday morning, after I got done talking to the police, helping Lucas to corroborate the Jason lie, my mom showed up. She and David had already packed up the cars and were ready to get the hell out of Dodge. But I wouldn’t go with her. I couldn’t just leave you. I-I mean, you and the rest of the gang. Shit’s only gonna get worse before it gets better, and I know we’ll need all hands on deck if we’re going to keep the Upside Down from swallowing up the real world. So, I refused to go with her. She got upset, and David got pissed, but I’m nineteen. They can’t make me do anything. So… they left.”
Several beats of silence passed, and when it grew too much for you, you chanced a glance at Eddie’s face. His expression was caught between gaping shock and incandescent rage, and you blinked in surprise.
“Are you… are you alright?” you murmured, squeezing his hand.
Eddie seemed to snap out of it, and his gaze found yours again.
“Am I alright?” he scoffed, voice tinged with hysteria. “I should be asking you that. Your mom just… fuck, I’m sorry, but I can’t believe she just fucking abandoned you in the middle of this shitstorm. What a goddamn bitch. N-No offense, of course.”
“No, you’re right,” you said with a wry smile, and you shrugged again. “She is a bitch. We’ve never had the best relationship, I always reminded her too much of my father. But… at least this way she’ll be safe. David might be a dick, but he actually seems to care about her, and I know my mother would kill him if he tried to lay a hand on her. So… she’ll be fine. And who knows? Maybe, once this shit is all over and Eleven saves the world again, my mom will come to her senses and apologize.”
You and Eddie stared at each other for a long moment. You were the one to break first, poorly stifling a snort, and then Eddie caved after you, and soon the two of you were giggling and gasping for breath.
“Ow, ow, ow,” Eddie hissed as he grasped at his side, but he was still laughing. “Ughh, that hurts, Obi, don’t make me laughhhh.”
“Sorry, sorry,” you snickered, and your cheeks ached from smiling so wide.
The pair of you lapsed into silence again as Eddie caught his breath, and then he flopped his head to the side to meet your eyes.
“So… your house, huh?” he asked, lips twitching up at the corners.
“I-If you want,” you stammered as you felt heat rise into your cheeks. “Granted, it might also get swallowed up at any moment, and you and Wayne would have to decide who gets the other bedroom and who gets the couch, but… yeah.”
You bit your lip and would have picked at your fingers if Eddie wasn’t still holding your hand. His face was soft and thoughtful as his brown eyes considered you, but then nervousness started to creep into his expression for some reason.
He seemed to take a moment to build up his courage, and he licked his lips before he spoke again.
“Can… can I ask you something, Obi?”
The seriousness of his tone made you sit up a little straighter.
“It’s just… my memory is still a little spotty, after the bats got me,” he started, and his thumb started brushing over your knuckles again, like he usually played with the rings on his fingers. “I remember… some things, b-but I can’t tell if they actually happened or if I was just hallucinating from blood loss at that point. I— Look, I’m just gonna come out and ask, and you can’t laugh at me because I’m very injured and fragile and might cry. Alright?”
“A-Alright,” you said, swallowing past your suddenly dry throat.
You had a sneaking suspicion you already knew what he was going to ask.
Eddie took a deep breath, and then his chocolate-brown eyes stabbed into you, pinned you to the spot.
“Did you kiss me?”
Your breath hitched in your lungs, panic sparking along your nerves. You didn’t think he would remember. He’d been dying and delirious, and you were just trying to keep him alive, would have said whatever you needed to in order to keep him alive.
Part of you wanted to lie, save yourself the embarrassment, but you couldn’t with the way Eddie was staring into your soul.
“Yes,” you whispered, confessed, and you braced yourself for his rejection.
You’d never said anything about your feelings because you were sure they could never be reciprocated. Eddie had never made a move in all the months you’d known him. He was always affectionate, touching you in innocuous ways, playing with your fingers, tugging gently at your hair, throwing his arm over your shoulders, but it was never sexual, even when you passed out in his bed with him that one time, too stoned to move. So, he obviously didn’t see you like that, and you were too scared to risk your friendship by saying anything.
Besides, Eddie always talked about wanting to get the hell out of Hawkins and never look back, and you didn’t want to be the thing that got in the way of his dreams. You told yourself you would keep your dirty secret, take it to the grave, and yet here you were, on the precipice of spilling your guts.
“And… did you say that you… loved me? Like in love with me?” Eddie asked as he stared at you intently.
You couldn’t read his expression, his tone, your brain too busy setting itself on fire in embarrassment.
“Yes,” you said again, voice no more than a breath, and you dropped your gaze, unable to bare the rejection that would soon appear in his eyes.
“And did you mean it?”
It would be better to lie. To laugh it off, say you were just spouting nonsense to keep him awake. Tell him that of course you loved him, he was your best friend and nothing more.
You couldn’t, though. You were just so tired, and this secret had been weighing you down for so long. It was time to give it up.
But you couldn’t find your voice now, throat hot and tight with building tears, so you just nodded your head silently.
Eddie inhaled sharply, so sharply it sounded like he was in pain, and you just started babbling.
“I’m sorry, look, we can just forget all about it, really. It doesn’t have to mean anything. I’m just so happy you’re still alive, and I don’t want to lose you. Y-You’re my best friend, Munson. Besides, we still have all this gate shit to take care of, and—”
“Obi,” Eddie cut you off. Then he said your name. Your real name. He hadn’t used it in months, and it caused a shiver to roll down your spine.
You snapped your head up in shock, your mouth hanging open in a small ‘o.’
Eddie was still staring at you, but now he was smiling, so wide that his eyes crinkled and the dimples besides his mouth almost leapt off his cheeks. Tears dotted his eyelashes, but he looked so happy, you didn’t understand.
“What’s with the surprise?” he laughed when he saw your face. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know, sweetheart.”
“K-Know what?” you stuttered, trying to piece things together.
“That I’ve been in love with you since the moment you walked into Hellfire, dripping wet, last fall,” he said simply, easily, his smile going a little lopsided. “I had to bow to you to keep from falling to my knees.”
“What?” It felt like the breath had been knocked out of you. Your ears started to ring, and your vision darkened at the edges until all you could see was his face.
“Seriously, Obi?” He smirked. “For a Jedi master, you can sometimes be a little slow. Why do you think I asked Henderson to lie to you about fixing his bike? I wanted to see you. At first, I was worried you were just showing up out of obligation toward the kid, but then there you were that day, leaning against your car in the parking lot, waiting for me. That was probably the happiest day of my life. If you discount all the other days I’ve spent with you since then.”
You gaped at him wordlessly, his words echoing around your skull but failing to process.
He… he loved you? He loved you back?
“B-But you never… you never said anything,” you stuttered. “Never gave any indication…”
“I thought I was pretty obvious, the way I’m always hanging all over you,” he snorted. “But I couldn’t help myself. I just… always want to be around you, Obi. You make the chaos in my head a little quieter. You were like this one spot of bright light in this ugly town. But, like you said, I-I didn’t want to ruin what we already had. Besides, I’m Eddie the Freak, and you’re like lightyears out of my league. Why would you ever go for someone like me?”
“You’re not a freak,” you immediately countered, your voice strong in your surety. “Don’t call yourself that. You’re… you’re Eddie the Brave, not the Freak.”
“Wait, I thought you were the Samwise to my Frodo,” Eddie quipped, so he apparently remembered a lot of what you said while he was dying.
“I’m serious.” You frowned. “You were willing to sacrifice yourself for Dustin and me. You’re a hero, Eddie. A truly metal hero.”
Eddie flushed at your praise, dropping his eyes so his long lashes brushed against the tops of his cheeks. He played with your fingers, and after a moment, he raised one of his shoulders in a half shrug.
“Yeah, well, it’s easy to be a hero when you’ve got such a beautiful maiden to save,” he said, eyes darting up to yours, and a smirk tugged at his lips.
“You are seriously the worst,” you groaned and pulled your hand from his, but he caught it again, brought it to his lips, and pressed a kiss to the center of your palm.
“True, but you love me,” he said, but you could see there was a question in his dark eyes, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.
“Yeah,” you breathed, cupping your hand over his warm cheek. “I do.”
Eddie nuzzled into your palm and grinned so brilliantly it was like looking into the sun, and you thought that you could handle any nightmare the Upside Down tried to throw at you, as long as you could see his smile every day for the rest of your life. However long it might be.
“Hey, Obi?” he muttered.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, voice quiet and reverent.
Your stomach bottomed out inside you, and it felt like bubbles had replaced the blood in your veins. You felt light, weightless, like you would float away at any moment.
There was only one answer you could give.
“Yes,” you whispered.
Eddie smiled again, softer but no less happy, and he lifted his hand and gently tucked it behind your head. He played with your hair for a moment before his palm slid to the back of your neck, and then he was slowly tugging you down to meet him, and you were leaning the rest of the way to bridge the distance.
His lips were still dry and chapped when they brushed yours, but just the knowledge that it was him kissing you made every hair on your body stand on end. You tilted your head slightly to get a better angle, opening your mouth to let your tongue trace over his lower lip.
Eddie made a small, surprised noise that trailed off into a groan, and then his grip on the back of your neck tightened. He opened his mouth under yours, his tongue darting out, and the kiss deepened, grew more urgent. His other hand reached out to grab your waist, and he tried to pull your even closer, even though you were already half lying on his body.
You didn’t care, though. In fact, you also wanted to be closer, and you were just considering the logistics of trying to straddle him without exacerbating his wounds when you heard the door open behind you.
“Oh!” a voice gasped.
You ripped yourself away from Eddie, but his hand on your waist tightened and wouldn’t let you go far. You shot a quick glare at him before you glanced at the doorway, and your cheeks filled with fire when you saw the middle-aged nurse standing there.
“H-Hello,” you stammered, trying to stand up and failing when Eddie’s hand flattened against the top of your thigh.
“Hello,” the nurse said as she raised an eyebrow at the pair of you, and though her face looked disapproving, there was a hint of amusement in her gaze.
“H-He just woke up a minute ago.” You cleared your throat, and in your peripherals, you could see Eddie smirking up at you, unbothered. “I was… just about to call someone to check on him.”
“Of course,” the nurse said, but she didn’t sound or look convinced. “Well, I’ll need to give him a quick exam, but it should only take a minute. Then I’m sure you and your boyfriend must be hungry, so I’ll have someone bring you guys dinner.”
“Thank you,” you muttered, your cheeks still on fire.
The nurse hummed and approached the opposite side of the bed, but then she paused and raised an eyebrow at you again.
“I’ll need you to get off the bed for the exam,” she said and looked pointedly at the chair shoved against the wall.
“R-Right,” you stuttered, and then you shot a narrowed-eyed glare at Eddie.
He smiled innocently up at you, but he did remove his hand from your thigh, and you hurriedly got off the bed and moved to sit in the chair.
The nurse was quick and efficient in her exam, and she said Eddie was recovering nicely. If he could keep some food down and sleep through the night, he should be able to discharge in the morning.
“Alright, I’ll go see about getting you some dinner,” the nurse said as she made her way to the door again.
“Oh, wait,” Eddie called out, and when the nurse turned to him, he plastered on his most charming, dimpled smile. “Could you make sure we get the red Jello? That’s my girlfriend’s favorite.”
The easy and casual way he said ‘girlfriend’— not to mention the fact that he remembered which Jello was your favorite— made a heat wave flash through your body, and it felt like your heart had been replaced by humming bird wings.
“Sure, hon.” The nurse nodded before she shot the two of you a look. “But I will say that a hospital is a place for healing, so I expect the two of you to be respectful of that.”
“Of course, ma’am,” Eddie said with a completely earnest expression, and he raised his right hand. “Scout’s honor.”
You were too embarrassed to actually say anything, but you nodded your head all the same. Thankfully, the nurse seemed satisfied with that because she left without saying anything else.
But the moment she was gone, Eddie snapped his head toward you and smirked.
“Yeah, Obi,” he teased. “You need to be more respectful of the sacred hospital. Keep it in your pants.”
“That’s it, I’m leaving,” you deadpanned as you rose from your chair. “Goodbye, Munson.”
“No, no, I was just kidding,” he laughed, but when you stepped toward the door, his voice dipped into a whine. “Nooooo, Obi, don’t be mean to meeee. I’m wounded. A wounded hero!”
You shook your head but couldn’t keep yourself from smiling, and somehow, you ended sitting on the edge of his bed again. You were too nervous about the nurse coming back to do anything ‘untoward,’ but Eddie seemed content to hold your hand and ask about everything else that had happened in the last few days.
The nurse soon returned with two trays of food, and while hospital food wasn’t exactly gourmet, it filled the aching void in the pit of your stomach. Eddie also had fun feeding you since he insisted your arms were too injured to move, and some of the mash potatoes did end up smeared across your cheeks, but Eddie was quick to lean forward and lick it off, silencing your complaints and setting your cheeks aflame.
While you two were eating, Wayne came back, and the poor man nearly fainted from shock when he saw Eddie awake, upright, and eating. Once he recomposed himself, he rushed forward to pull his nephew into a hug, and you subtlety slid off the edge of the bed to give them some room. You mouthed to Eddie over Wayne’s shoulder that you were going to make a phone call, and while the metalhead seemed reluctant to let you out of his sight, he nodded.
You left the two Munsons to reconnect in private, and you made your way to a payphone in one of the waiting rooms. You called the Wheelers’ place, and Dustin picked up on the second ring. He’d apparently been waiting for your call, wondering where you were since the strategy meeting was about to start. You regretfully informed him that you wouldn’t be making it to the meeting, but before he started to complain, you told him Eddie was awake.
The boy nearly blew out your eardrum with how loudly he cheered, but the relief and excitement in his voice only made you grin. Dustin rambled out a million questions before he cut himself off and said he was coming to the hospital, but you told him to stay at the Wheelers and go ahead with the meeting. He tried to argue, but you reminded him that Eddie still needed some rest, which he reluctantly agreed with. You assured him that he would be the first person you and Eddie went to see once Eddie was discharged tomorrow, and Dustin said he would hold you to that.
The two of you spoke for a few more minutes before you hung up the phone, and it had been about ten minutes since you left the Munsons, so you slowly made your way back to Eddie’s room.
Wayne was sitting in the chair beside Eddie’s bed when you eased open the door and slid silently into the room, and judging by his disturbed, slack jawed expression, you assumed Eddie was giving him an edited recap of all the Upside Down shenanigans.
“So, yeah,” Eddie finished in an incongruously chipper voice. “That’s the long and the short of it. I know, it’s fucked up, but it’s the truth.”
Wayne was silent for a long moment, and then he sighed and ran a hand over the top of his head.
“Few weeks ago, I might have called you crazy, but now… I believe you, kid,” he muttered and shook his head. “I’ve seen these… gates. Nothing of this world should look like that. So, I believe you.”
“Good,” Eddie sighed as he relaxed back into his pillows, but then he saw you standing by the door, and a grin broke out over his face. “There you are, sweetheart. I was just talkin’ bout ya.”
Wayne looked up as you hesitantly approached the bed. You’d met him in passing a few times, mostly when you would come over to get high with Eddie and Wayne was on his way out the door for his night shift, and you flashed the older man a tentative smile.
“Hi, Mr. Munson,” you said respectfully.
Wayne didn’t say anything in response as he slowly rose from his chair, and he rounded the end of the bed to stand in front of you, still without saying a word.
“Uhh…” Your eyes darted to Eddie, who looked just as confused, but before you could say anything else, Wayne suddenly pulled you into a tight, crushing hug.
“Thank you,” Wayne rasped into your ear, his voice sounding choked. “Thank you for saving my boy.”
Your eyes widened in surprise, but you slowly returned the man’s hug.
“O-Of course,” you stuttered before you cleared your throat. “I-I love Eddie, Mr. Munson. I wasn’t going to let him die, no matter how stubborn he was being.”
Wayne chuckled as he released you, wiping his eyes and flashing you a wry smile.
“That sounds like him,” he said.
“Hey!” Eddie protested from the bed, which you and Wayne ignored.
“Also, just call me Wayne,” the older Munson added.
“Alright, Wayne.” You smiled.
“Can we stop playing the ‘Ignore Eddie’ game?” Eddie pouted from the bed, and when you looked over at him, he made grabby motions in your direction.
You and Wayne shared an eyeroll, but Eddie’s uncle stepped to the side so you could reach the side of the bed. Eddie immediately grabbed your hand and tugged you down to sit on the mattress, and he smiled like he hadn’t seen you in years.
“Hi,” he breathed, already playing with your fingers.
“Hi,” you giggled back.
“Well, that’s my cue,” Wayne grunted behind you, and you turned to see him pulling on his jacket. “The, uh, power plant has asked the people left to take on extra shifts if they can, just until the government aid fully arrives. My shift ends around 3am, so I’ll catch some sleep at the high school before I come pick you up after they discharge you, Ed.”
“Oh, actually,” you interjected as you pulled your hand out of Eddie’s. He made a noise of protest, but you ignored him as you dug around in your jeans pocket and pulled out your keys. Then you turned and extended them out to Wayne. “The key with green paint on the top is my house key. My house is still intact, and, um, there’s no one living there at the moment besides me. I already offered this to Eddie, but you both can stay with me until we… figure out what to do about all this… mess.”
Wayne stared at you incredulously. “I-I don’t think—”
“Really, it’s fine, Mr. Mun— Wayne,” you corrected with a smile. “My place isn’t much, but I know a real bed is a right sight better than a cot stuffed in a high school gymnasium. I’ll, um, probably stay here at the hospital tonight anyway, just in case, so, really, you’ll have the place to yourself. And I can drive Eddie home after he’s discharged in the morning. Just leave my car keys.”
Wayne blinked at you, then at the keys, then at Eddie.
“I’d just take them, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie said over your shoulder. “If you think I’m stubborn, Obi is like an immoveable object. Or an unstoppable force. Or both, really.”
You turned and narrowed your eyes at Eddie, and he immediately raised his hands in surrender.
“See?” he stage-whispered to his uncle out of the side of his mouth, and you rolled your eyes and turned back to Wayne.
The keys were still dangling from your fingers, but after a moment, Wayne reached out, took them, and started to work the green painted key off the ring. When he was done, he returned the others to you, and you smiled up at him.
“Thank you,” he grunted. “This is very… kind of you.”
“Kind is Obi’s middle name,” Eddie teased, causing you to blush.
Wayne spent a few more minutes saying goodbye, and you gave him directions to your house. You also told him which bedroom used to be your mothers, and where to find clean sheets.
Once he was gone, Eddie sighed and subsided into the pillows.
“Man, I’m tired,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.
“Almost dying will do that,” you said, and though you hadn’t meant to be funny, he laughed. The sound was infections, and you smiled slightly, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his brow. “Why don’t you lay back and get some sleep? I’ll be right here.”
“Will you lay with me?” Eddie asked as he looked up at you through his lashes.
The bastard. He knew you were powerless against his puppy dog eyes.
But you still tried to be sensible.
“You’re still injured, Munson,” you pointed out rationally. “Plus, the bed is like two feet wide, and the nurse is going to rip us both a new one if she finds me in that bed again.”
“Don’t care,” he muttered, tugging at your arm as he fought through a yawn. “I don’t even feel any pain cause of the morphine, and fuck the nurse. I just want to feel you close. I always sleep better with you close.”
The simple confession evaporated the rest of the fight in you, and you sighed.
“Fine,” you relented, like you always did with him.
“Yay.” Eddie grinned and scooted over until his opposite shoulder was pressed against the guard rail.
You shook your head at him as you toed off your shoes, but when you saw the cardboard box half stashed under the bed, you got an idea. Bending down, you rifled through Eddie’s few remaining possessions before your fingers closed around the thing you were searching for, and then you stood up with your prize.
“Ooooh,” Eddie said when he saw the book in your hand, and his brown eyes lit up with delight. “You gonna read me a bedtime story, Obi?”
“Maybe, if you can be quiet long enough,” you huffed as you handed him the book. “Hold this.”
He dutifully took the book from you, and then you spent the next few minutes trying to figure out how to clamber up into the bed without harming either of you. In the end, you were both lying on your backs, hips and shoulders pressed together. Thankfully, your busted shoulder was on the outside of the bed, and you pulled up the guardrail again so you couldn’t roll out of bed in the middle of the night and fully break your already fractured bones.
“Hmm, this is nice,” Eddie hummed as he snuggled his face against your shoulder, his long hair brushing against your neck. “You smell good, Obi.”
“Stop it, you’re tickling me,” you giggled, trying to crane your head away, but he just chased after you.
“Nuh-uh, sweetheart. You said I could smell you all I want if I stayed alive, and here I am, still kicking and breathing. Are you going back on your word, princess?”
“No,” you grumbled and just gave in.
Eddie made a happy noise as he pressed his nose to the column of your throat and inhaled, and then he pressed a quick kiss there that made goosebumps erupt over your skin.
“Okay, I’m ready,” he announced as he plopped the book back into your lap. “You may begin.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” you teased, but you picked up the worn book all the same. “Do you want me to pick up at a certain spot?”
“Hmm, nah,” Eddie said, snuggling up more against you, and his eyes were heavy when you looked down at him. “Just start at the beginning.”
“Alright, but I’m not doing all those ridiculous voices you do for the dwarves,” you warned as you flipped to the first page.
“That’s okay, that’s where I’ll jump in,” Eddie snickered and pressed another kiss to the curve of your shoulder. “Because I know how much you love it.”
You couldn’t even deny that. You loved it because Eddie was always so passionate, just like he was about everything else.
“Deal,” you chuckled, and then you cleared your throat before you began. “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.”
You had to admit, as much as your related to Bilbo and the other hobbits, you didn’t find comfort in a hole, or a house, or any one place.
No, your comfort was the man lying beside you, and no matter what lay ahead for the two of you, and for the rest of Hawkins, you knew you would always have a home as long as Eddie Munson was at your side.
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jishyucks · 5 days ago
fibs. ‣ cyj
‣ pairing: store neighbour!yeonjun x female!reader
‣ genre: sorta but not really f2l, beginning of the relationship type shi, ig you can say it's fluff
‣ wc: 1.4k (was supposed to be <1k oops)
‣ summary: In which Yeonjun has (quite obviously) taken a liking to you but you're not really sure if you reciprocate his feelings; alternatively, you're lying to yourself but you just don't know it yet
‣ warnings?: none I don't think, reader's lowkey 'mean' to yeonjun but this is what makes it cuter okok, yeonjun's not even hiding how he feels (dude he's flirting)
‣ an (pt.1): shoulda used the time I spent writing this for school but that's a future me problem,,, just needed to escape it a bit |_・) so it may or may not be my best. anyways enjoy!
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“Y/N, your boyfriend is here again.”
Sending a death glare toward Yeri sends her back to folding the clothes that recent customers had just messed up. She knows damn well that said ‘boy’ isn’t your ‘boyfriend’, nor do you want him to be. If anything he wasn’t even a friend, he was more of an acquaintance.
“Hi, Y/N!” Yeonjun waddles up to you, smiling a bit too innocently for your liking. He’s waving as if he’s more than a few yards away from you, “Good afternoon. I hope your day is going well.”
“Yeonjun,” you replied. You start rocking forth on the balls of your feet, feeling ache being to spread across them, “It’s been eh. How about yours?” 
“Great! Now that I get to see you!” Yeonjun’s cheekbones hike up high on his face, eyes nearly disappearing. 
You want to gag. 
“I brought you some snacks,” he places a neatly tied bag onto the register counter, “I thought that maybe you’d be hungry… you’ve been working since one, right?” He starts to untie the bag, slipping out the selection of food he used his employee discount on. 
You nod, “Yeah. I want to leave.” 
Yeonjun pushes the food towards you and gestures, “Eat.” “I can’t, I’m not on break,” you say dryly, “What are you doing here?” 
Yeonjun shrugs, “I’m on my break. I wanted to bring you food.” He’s not at all bothered by the way you were speaking to him, understanding that you were on hour six of your eight-hour shift and you probably haven’t eaten anything. 
“Yeah he wanted to bring you food,” Yeri comments from the side, “Be nice.”
“Thank you,” you sighed. There’s no way you were showing that you were actually grateful for the boy and his random act of kindness, “I guess.”
You briefly look up at Yeonjun and remember the first time he pranced into the store on a gloomy May afternoon. He was sent to the store, the very store you worked at, in search of a mask because his dumbass forgot to bring one (and for some reason his workplace didn’t have its own box). You were the one stationed at the cash register, your other coworkers were working on new packages at the back. 
“Hello,” he greeted. You can easily recall the way Yeonjun held a rather irritating smirk on his face, one that made you swoon and cringe altogether. 
“If you’re looking for something for your girlfriend,” you mutter, “I suggest looking at the new arrivals.” 
Yeonjun sighs, “I’m not here for my non-existent girlfriend. I was wondering if you guys had any extra masks.” Without another word, you picked one up from under the register counter and hold it out to him. “Thank you, you’re an angel.”
And ever since that very brief, and rather insignificant interaction, Yeonjun’s found himself gravitating towards your store despite the fact he really doesn’t have any business being in there. Besides you, of course.
It was funny. Funny because you can’t recollect any memory of you showing any interest in Yeonjun—because you don’t—yet he continues shuffling into the store whenever you have a shift. Each day, Yeonjun would make up some ridiculous reason as to why he’s decided to waste part of his short break at your store, but since he was his own person, there was really nothing you could do to send him off. 
“I was sent here to ask if you guys had a step stool,” was one of his reasons. Yeonjun craned his neck over the cash counter as he tried to see if you somehow had hidden the small ladder behind it. 
You looked him up and down, brows furrowing, “Aren’t you like six feet tall? I don’t think you need a ladder.”
“I’m five feet eleven, so yes I need a ladder,” he quipped. 
You rolled your eyes and muttered a ‘whatever you say’ before turning to the back of the store where the store’s ladder was kept. 
It had been like this for the past few months, and although you’ve never went out of your way to reciprocate his actions, Yeonjun continued and still continues to put effort in this friendship (or whatever he’s chosen to consider it). 
“You’re very very welcome,” he grins. You don’t realize yourself, but you hold back a smile, though Yeonjun sees this. Not entirely, but he can see the way one corner of your mouth twitches, “Anyways, my break is almost up. I’ll see you around.”
And at that, he’s gone. Just like you wanted.
“That guy is down bad for you,” Yeri comments the moment Yeonjun’s out of sight, “It’s so cute watching it all go down.” Yeri half-assedly sweeps the floor, sending you suspicious looks. “So?” you say, “I’m not interested in him.” 
Yeri starts laughing out loud. She’s lucky there are no customers shopping because you already know they’d think she was crazy, “Liar. I can see that you pretty much are just by the way you consistently shift when he’s here. You’re restless around him. That says a lot.”
You scoff, “That doesn’t mean anything.” 
“‘That doesn’t mean anything’ my ass,” Yeri lets out one single ‘ha,’ and continues, “Whatever you say, girl. Whatever you say.”
Before you’re able to reply, a group of teenage girls enter the store, pulling you and Yeri back into customer service mode.
At the end of your shift, long forgetting the conversation with Yeri, you leave the store with the mental images of your house and your dinner and your bed and your very soft pillow and…
Jumping, your head shoots towards whoever had called you, eyes wide and heart pumping. “Yeonjun, for fuck’s sake!” You notice Yeonjun’s changed out of the attire you usually see him in, which was his work uniform. He��s wearing a plain white t-shirt and black jeans. It was basic, but even you can admit that he looks… good?
“Sorry,” he laughs, “I thought you would see me but you seemed distracted.” Yeonjun picks up his pace to walk beside you. You notice that two of your steps equal one of his.
“Just tired,” You reply, shrugging, “I just want to go home.” You can already see the mall entrance from where you both were and you never wanted to run like hell towards it until now. You really did want to go home. “Do you want a ride?” he offers, “I know you bus home.”
“Are you a stalker?” you stop and eye him down, “Because then I’ll have to refuse.”
“I see you waiting at the bus stop when I drive home,” he replies quietly, “You don’t know how many times I wanted to stop and ask you if you wanted a ride but right before I get to you, the bus pulls up and you get on.” You don’t reply and Yeonjun’s unsure if what he said was a bit too much or not. He changes the subject, “How was the food I gave you?”
“It was good,” you say, “Cold, but it was good. It wasn’t your fault, though.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” By now, you and Yeonjun have reached the door. He holds it open for you and you slip out before him. Then you hold the door open for him, “So, do you want a ride?”
You don’t reply and just think about the offer. Could you trust Yeonjun? What if he’s out to get you? 
“I’m not taking no for an answer,” he says quietly, “It’s night and it’ll make me feel better if you said yes.” Yeonjun pushes his lips to one side of his face as he gazes down at you. 
You’re confused.
“I don’t get it.” You say out loud. You look around and notice that the pavement is slightly wet from what you believe was rain. The wetness of the car windows said it all—that and the moisture in the night air. 
“Get what?” Yeonjun’s head tilts slightly to the side. 
You cross your arms and shift your weight towards one leg, “I’m… not the nicest to you. But you’re here and you’re offering me a ride despite all that. Not to mention you bringing food that without even being asked… I just don’t get it.”
Yeonjun’s eyes fall to his feet, “It’s nothing, really.” He’s not sure whether it would be appropriate to tell that he likes you. That he’s taken a liking to you even though you both haven’t really gotten to know each other, “It’s just how I am.” 
The hope in Yeonjun’s eyes goes unnoticed by you, “Well in that case, I’ll accept that ride.” 
“Really?” Yeonjun’s face lights up, “You trust me?”
You nodded, “Yeah.” 
A car whizzes by, sending gusts of wind to blow past the both of you.
“I guess I do.”
°•. ✿ .•°
 an (pt.2): all the lies are italicized
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guccisweatpants · 26 days ago
the battle
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daemon targaryen x reader (using she/her pronouns)
She sat nervously in her seat. The one next to her—typically taken by her husband, Daemon—was empty. Now, she had nothing to fear when it came to Daemon partaking in jousting. He was unbeatable as he had the best training and the strongest armor. Still, it pained her to see him hurting or getting hit hard. 
The crowd roared as his opponent made his way around the playing field. He made eye contact with you, giving her a light nod and moving to his side. The crowd grew louder as her husband rode his horse up to the tower. She walked up to greet him as she towered above him. He looked at her with a smirk. 
“Do I get a good luck kiss from my wife?” 
She bit her lip and walked quickly over to the steps that lead onto the field. He got off his house and brought her into his arms. The way his lips felt on hers never got old. She licked into his mouth quickly before allowing the kiss to go any further. 
“Win. For me, cause you know what happens when you win,” she kissed him once more before returning to her seat. 
“Always do my love.” 
She watched as Daemon continued to win each game, even when he had to get off his horse to fight. Until a stranger from Dorne made his way onto the playing field. He gave Daemon a run for his money. His wooden lanse caused Daemon to fall off his horse and hit the ground hard. 
Daemon always told her not to show any fear or emotion when at jousting matches as it showed “weakness,” however, she disagreed with his statement, but she obeyed. She gripped her nails into the wooden arm rest. Someone gave him a new lance as he got back up on his horse and they went another round, only for Daemon to hit the ground again, harder. The two ended up in a fight on the ground where the man continued to beat Daemon till he couldn’t last any longer. There was a new champion. 
She watched as Daemon slowly walked off the field tired and beaten. 
She walked up the stone staircase that lead to their bedroom once she was finished conversing with the king. He was always so kind to her. She quietly opened the door to see him standing at the window, watching the activity happening below. He was naked. She quietly walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his back. He let out a sigh as he felt her touch, he was tired. 
“You did good today, my love.” 
“I lost,” he chuckled. 
“You’re still the winner in my eyes.” 
“I disappointed him.” 
“My father.” 
Daemon’s father was always hard on him. He pushed Daemon past his boundaries and forced him to train until ungodly hours of the night. 
“You’re only human, Daemon. You may be very powerful, but you’re just a human being. You have emotions and feelings, I know you do. Okay, you lost a battle. So fucking what? You’ll do better next time.” 
He knew she was right. 
He turned around in her grip and leaned down for a kiss. Her hands roamed around his back and over his broad chest. His forehead rested on hers. She caressed his cheek, noticing he was still dirty from the fight. They continued to kiss for a while until she felt him  She began placing tiny kisses on his chest. They made eye contact as she sunk down to her knees. When they hit the stone floor, she took his semi-hard cock into her hands to help him get 100 percent turned on—it didn’t take too long. She took some saliva from her mouth and rubbed it all over his length. A long groan left the prince’s mouth. 
She instantly knew she was doing a good job, but knew that she could do better. Once he was looking down at her with those gorgeous green eyes, she licked up his shaft to slightly tease him. Once she reached the tip, she slowly put him in her mouth. She slightly gagged once he reached the back of her throat. She looked back up at him to see his head leaned back as his hands brushed through her hair. She bobbed on his cock until a line of spit separated her and his dick. She continued his assault on his dick with her hand. She was eager for him to come—to make him feel good. 
He put his hand under her shoulders and lifted her to her feet and instantly attached his plump lips to hers. Her hands rested lightly on his cheeks as he lifted her up and carried her to their shared king bed. He dropped her on his side of the bed. She pushed herself up on the bed so Daemon had enough room to lay on top of her. Her dress was already to her hips as he legs were spread wide for him. Through her panties, he could already tell how wet and ready she was for him. He slid off her underwear and pushed her dress up to showcase her breasts. She brought her hands to massage her breasts, relieved they are free from the tightness of the dress. She leaned forward to take the clothing off of her, leaving her completely naked. He stayed on his knees to pump his spit-covered cock until he was ready to devour her. 
“You’re always so good with your mouth,” he breathed. 
“Only for you, my sweet prince,” she quickly reached up to place her hands against his shoulders to pull him down on top of her. Before their lips attached, they enjoyed feeling each other’s hot breath on one another. Their tongues battled for dominance with Daemon winning—per usual. He lined himself up to her entrance and slowly pushed inside, admiring her face as she got used to the stretch. She gripped onto his shoulders, bound to leave bruises in the morning. He placed almost all his weight on her and let out a loud, long moan into her ear once he pushed himself all the way inside her. She wrapped her hands around his neck and spread her legs even further to fully enjoy his assault. 
While Daemon was thrusting in and out of her, he whispered sweet nothings into her ear, causing her to blush. His hand snaked up her body starting with her thighs to her ass to her hips to her breasts, using the tips of his fingers to bring goosebumps to her skin. This move helps her nipples harden and is easier for him to play with. After each thrust, her moans grew louder—which was music to Daemon’s ears. She repeatedly told her to scream as loud as she likes as she wanted Westeros to know how good he fucks his wife. Sometimes, she’s concerned he will break the bed frame for how hard he grips the wood and how it hits the wall, but he never does. 
Once she exclaimed that she was about to come, he lifted his head to watch as his girl came undone underneath him. He brought his hand down to her clit to rub harsh circles against the sensitive nerve. That only brought her over the edge even more as she made ungodly noises beneath him. He kept working her through her orgasm, which eventually lead him to his. The couple bathed together to watch the scent of sex off of them, but it only lead them to multiple sex sessions. Still bathing, she laid on his chest while he lightly drew shapes on her back with his lips pressed to her temple. 
“Are you going to be okay?” she asked, lifting her head to make eye contact with her. 
“What do you mean, my love?” 
“With battles? And not being the heir to the throne?” 
He playfully rolled his eyes, “You’re definitely my wife,” he laughed, “I will be fine, my darling. Don’t you worry about me. Am I jealous of my cousin? Yes. Do I wish it was me? Yes. Did I fuck up by calling my newest little cousin ‘Heir for the day,’ but you know my brother. He’ll forgive me one day then we will be good as new.” 
“I love you,” she responded. 
“I love you, too, my princess.”
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etherealperrie · 3 months ago
Call It What You Want
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Eddie Munson x Reader: In which Eddie and Reader spend a rare quiet night together in his trailer complete with gentle, loving glances, wandering hands, and soft laughter.
Word Count: 1k
Contains: GenderNeutral!Reader | Immense amounts of fluff | Partial nudity | Allusion to smut (but only soft touches present in this fic) | Established relationship | Eddie being soft for the person he loves |
Warnings: None
A/N: Story takes place pre-season 4, so no spoilers for the newest season (aside from Eddie being a character and existing in the ST universe).
No one expected it, not even you.
Loving Eddie Munson wasn’t a part of your life plan and it certainly wasn’t a choice your parents would have made on your behalf.
You didn’t know what to expect when you first met Eddie at the start of senior year. That uncertainty somehow grew into a genuine friendship and later tumbled deeper into love. His love was unlike anything you’d experienced before. The feeling of his hand intertwined with your own and the feeling of his silken lips skimming across your skin, making their way up to finally grant you a kiss were all things you’d only dreamed of prior to him. 
Even now with his head in your lap with your hands running through his wild curls, you struggle to believe it’s real. You smile at his body curled up under your shared blanket as you lay on the couch, MTV playing faintly on the television, his cheek resting gently against your thigh, his brown eyes glossed over and droopy with sleep. You didn’t want to disturb him. In fact, you’d prefer to stay here in this trailer, in this very position, forever, admiring every inch of his being; the subtle rise and fall of his chest, the feeling of his stubble as you rub your thumb across his cheek. He didn’t often just rest, quiet moments with Eddie were rare. 
He heaves a heavy sigh and yawns, pushing himself up off of you, rubbing his tired eyes. He glances around the room in search of the time, but his face softens, a smile emerging slowly across his lips as he takes you in. 
“Hi,” he mumbles, sitting up next to you. “Can you stay?” he asks, his voice soft.
You just nod and turn off the television, the little living room fading into darkness. He reaches for your hand and laces his fingers through yours. You shiver at the feeling of his cold silver rings against your warm skin and he chuckles to himself, nudging you softly. He often forgot he was even wearing them, the trio of rings had become a permanent extension of him. He pulls you down the dark hallway and into his bedroom where the bed lay unmade from this morning. 
You watch him as he flops down onto the mattress, still clothed in the Hellfire Club t-shirt and ripped black jeans he’d worn to school. The very same outfit you had to hold yourself back from coaxing him out of during your brief moment together during lunch. 
He yawns again and pats the empty space next to him – beckoning you. Stepping out of your Converse, you cross the room in two steps, bouncing down next to him. You both laugh as he rolls over onto his stomach, now on top of you. He grabs your wrists and moves them above your head, peppering kisses down your neck and across the visible parts of your chest. 
The feeling of his lips, warm and slick, skimming across your skin sends you into a daze, wanting nothing more than his never-ending attention. 
“I thought you were tired,” you gasp. 
Eddie places another quick kiss to your cheek and rolls off of you, his pale skin turning red. “I was tired.” 
You take advantage of his brief moment of weakness to sit up and reach across his torso, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt, easing the fabric up his abdomen. He smiles, licking his lips, and sits up face you, his eyes intent on you as you slide the shirt up and over his torso, shoulders, and head, tossing the cotton fabric onto the floor. 
He raises an eyebrow and reaches forward to tease the Hawkins hoodie up and over your figure, revealing nothing underneath, leaving the two of you equally exposed. His eyes widen before slowly narrowing, darkening, as he drinks in the image before him. 
But it’s his body that’s the enigma, a beautiful one. His form is one that you’ll never tire of. Seeing him each time is just like the first, each time leaving you breathless and wanting more. The strength of his arms and the beauty in the art of his numerous tattoos are far beyond your comprehension, but oh, so deserving of your praise and adoration. You’re certain he thinks the same of you, that look in his eyes is familiar, as you’ve been both the recipient and the purveyor of the lust flecked in his soft brown eyes. 
There’s nothing more that needs to be said as the two of you crawl up and under the covers, Eddie sliding off his jeans as you undo the zipper of your bottoms. He rolls over onto his side, and you instinctively do the same – turning away from him, awaiting his embrace as you did every other night you stayed with him.
“Mmm,” he hums. 
“What?” you ask, curious as to why he was denying you the physical affection you so craved. 
“I wanna look at you,” he whispers, tracing his fingers down your spine leaving chills in his wake. You consider denying him, making him snuggle close to your back and wrap his arms around your torso, kissing the nape of your neck, but you give into his wish. Not because he was in control, but because ultimately, you wanted it too. 
The room is dark but you can see him smile when you flip over to face him, pressing your forehead against his. He snuggled in close to you running his fingers along your body: over the swell of your chest, across the valley of your stomach, and down your hip bone. Without thought, your hand is at the back of his neck, once again playing with his hair while your thumb rubs small circles just under his ear. 
“Is that better?” you ask, half mocking him and half genuinely curious. He doesn’t respond, just let’s put a soft hum. In the quiet, you let your eyes fall shut and savor the feeling of his warm palms on your body. 
He takes your hand from the back of his neck and brings it to his lips, kissing each knuckle. “Much better.”  
“You are such a softie, Munson.” 
“Shhh, don’t tell anyone,” he mumbles.
Laughter fills the quiet room.
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