Hi! I love you writing and I was wondering if you could write a fic we’re Eddie and the reader kinda have like a frenemies vibe going on and then one day they sleep together but Eddie has no idea the reader is a virgin because of people saying stories about her and then they sleep together and he finds out after they did it??
Can I Kiss You?
a/n: thanks so much for the request, & thank you everyone for 1k followers!!! i’m so happy people are liking my little stories <3 a few notes: reader is dustin’s older sister in this fic, but i make it a point to say that she was adopted, so you can def read this as not white reader still. i also briefly mention the reader’s birth parents passing away when she was very young, so tw for family death. and there’s a part where it’s said that the reader’s last name isn’t henderson (because she kept her original surname after being adopted) so if anyone’s reading this and your irl last name is henderson… just like pretend it’s not for a sec? oh also i hid a taylor swift lyric in here. first person to find it wins! anyways i hope y’all like it!!
summary: Your little brother's annoying DM is always hanging around and trying to bother you. Embarrassingly, you developed a crush on him, you were just too proud to do anything about it.
tags/warnings: fem!virgin!reader (18+ and a high school graduate), also adopted!henderson!reader, slight mention of family death, fluff, smut, friends/frenemies to lovers, praise kink, fingering (f receiving), descriptions of masturbation (both f and m receiving), use of pet names (baby, princess), unprotected p in v penetration (she’s on the pill, use condoms irl of course), no use of y/n
“He’s not here,” you deadpan with a roll of your eyes as you open the front door. You weren’t expecting any visitors, so when you heard knocking you were quick to find a makeshift weapon before seeing who it was. Your paranoia diminished when you saw it was merely your little brother's DM.
“I’d be tempted to say ‘how do you know I’m not here to see you?’, but that lamp in your hands has me second guessing myself,” Eddie replies with a laugh, pushing past you to enter your home without permission. “You gonna attack me, princess? Didn’t know you found me that annoying.”
“I’m a young woman home alone, and a lot of really strange things happen in this town,” you explain, setting the lamp back down on the end table. “Sue me for being defensive.”
He shakes off his backpack and tosses on the floor. “Better safe than sorry I guess,” he agrees, though you can hear his amused smirk in his tone. “Why you home alone? Your mom got a hot date or something?”
“Book club,” you correct him while crossing your arms, “And Dustin’s sleeping over at the Wheeler’s.”
Eddie hums in response, licking his lips as he looks you up and down. “Cute pajamas,” he says, winking at you.
At his comment, you realize with a start that your robe had fallen open, and crossing your arms only accentuated the suggestive low cut of your silk nightie. Quickly scrambling to cover yourself and retie the knot, you frustratedly grumble, “What are you even doing here? Dustin didn’t say anything about you coming over.”
He flops down on the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and settling into the well-worn cushions, making himself at home. “He talked me into letting him DM for a campaign, so I thought I’d stop by with my copy of the Dungeon Master’s Guide. He was bitching about only having the Player’s Handbook and Monster Manual, so…” he trails off with a shrug as he leans forward to snatch the remote to the TV from next to his boot.
“Get your dirty shoes off of my mother’s clean furniture,” you scold before physically grabbing his ankles and forcing his feet to the floor. “Can you at least pretend to have manners?”
“I could try, but then you wouldn’t have a crush on me anymore,” he laughs, then hooks one of his fingers into the belt of your robe, pulling you down to be seated next to him. He rests his arm on the back of the couch behind your shoulders, not reacting when you retort with a curt ‘In your dreams.’
You know that logistically you could make him leave- this was your home, after all- but the possibility of him actually going without protest was very low. It seemed like Eddie’s favorite thing in the world was annoying you, and sometimes you find yourself missing the days back when he barely acknowledged your existence. He was originally two years ahead of you in school, but due to him being held back twice he ended up being a part of your graduating class. You didn’t run in the same crowd, in fact you couldn’t have been further out of each other’s social spheres. You were quite popular, invited to many parties, even won prom queen your senior year. Eddie, on the other hand, only showed up at parties to sell drugs, and didn’t attend prom for any of his senior years.
When your little brother entered high school, you worried about him being bullied. You were aware that most of the school’s population were under the impression that Dungeon and Dragons was a devil worshiping cult, and the Hellfire club along with it. Having been exposed to the game for so long thanks to Dustin’s nerdy interests, you knew better than what the propaganda surrounding D&D tried to peddle to the public, but you held concerns that your status-obsessed ‘friends’ wouldn’t be so easily convinced otherwise. Popularity was never something you sought out, it just came naturally to you, and while it was nice always having weekend plans there was no way in hell you were going to let anyone give your baby brother and his friends any shit. If sticking up for your family made the ‘cool kids’ at school not want to have you in their clique, then that was fine by you. To your surprise, everyone seemed to get the message loud and clear that Dustin and his band of misfits were off limits bullying-wise, and you were able to stay relatively well liked by your peers.
The first time you stood up for Dustin, it was a few weeks into his freshman year in the hallway before first period. One of the guys from the basketball team was giving him a hard time, and you marched right up to the meathead jock and shoved him away. You made sure to get your point across that if you ever saw him fucking with your brother again that you weren’t afraid to fight back. The opposing boy cowered away, not expecting one of the most popular girls at Hawkins to so adamantly defend who he considered a ‘nerd’. Word traveled fast, and by lunchtime the hottest gossip was how you sucker-punched Damian Smith square in the jaw outside of Mrs. Hackett’s classroom this morning. It wasn’t true by a long shot, but you found it rather amusing how much the story got twisted when there were so many witnesses. That day was also the first time you spoke to Eddie.
He had cornered you in the cafeteria, and was attempting to use his ‘bad boy, outcast’ demeanor to intimidate you into leaving Dustin alone. Some of the cheerleaders got the attention of their boyfriends, and pretty soon a group had gathered to see why someone at the bottom of the food chain was messing with you. You called them off with a wave of your hand, then took Eddie’s arm to drag him out into the hall and figure out what the hell he was talking about. He clearly had the wrong idea, because he was telling you off about ‘pretending to stand up for the nerdy freshmen’ and how he ‘knew this was part of some elaborate prank’.
He had no idea you were Dustin’s sister. It made sense, you didn’t look all that similar and you didn’t even share a last name. Your biological parents were family friends of the Hendersons, and they died when you were fairly young. You were legally adopted by your godmother, and were raised as a member of the family. Most everyone who you’ve told has tried to console you after learning the truth, and while it is sad that you didn’t get to grow up with your birth mother and father, you know you were lucky to be a Henderson (by love, not by name). Family is family, even if there’s no blood relation, and that’s exactly what you told Eddie. You let him know that he could accuse you of being one of those airheads whose main concern is how many pages of the yearbook they make it on, but that wasn’t going to stop you from beating the shit out of anyone who tried to give your brother a hard time.
With Eddie becoming a close friend of Dustin’s, even somewhat of a role model (much to your dismay), you saw him pretty often. He was always finding excuses to come over, and you suspected it had something to do with his new life mission of bothering you at every waking moment. The two of you didn’t hate each other per se, on the contrary you actually always secretly enjoyed spending time with the metalhead, despite your differences. That being said, your rapport consisted mainly of jestful bantering, constantly trying to have the one-up in the exchange. You both finished high school together, he actually gave you a ride to graduation (not without a snide comment on the length of your dress, prompting a middle finger from you). Now you were taking a gap year before college and he was staying in Hawkins to focus on his music, the plan being to move to Indianapolis when the final member of Corroded Coffin graduated. With the freedom awarded by not attending Hawkins anymore- from both the stressful preparation for another four years of school and the pressure to stick to the status quo- you found yourself spending a lot of downtime with Eddie. You’re not quite sure either of you would readily call the other a friend, but maybe relationship labels were overrated. All you knew was that if Dustin was hitching a ride home, you could count on Eddie’s van being parked in the driveway for at least a couple hours while he berated you inside.
Lately though, the playful bickering between you two morphed into what almost felt like flirting. Eddie seemed to be laying it on thicker and thicker each time he came to see you, as if he was testing the waters for how much he could get away with without you getting upset. What he didn’t know, however, was that you’ve been harboring a secret crush on him for a while now. After actually getting to know him through the excuse of you both caring about Dustin, you came to the realization that he’s not all bad like his reputation.
Eddie switches on the TV, turning it to your favorite channel without asking and setting the remote back down on the table. It’s the little gestures like these that have you falling harder for him everyday. You lose your train of thought getting lost in fantasies of doing exactly this with him, only while being able to call him your boyfriend. You’re ripped back to reality when his arm shifts from the back of the couch to actually over your shoulders. His face doesn’t show any sign that he thinks of this as overly intimate, so you try to not let any reaction show.
Some hours pass this way, and you wonder how long Eddie plans to stay for. You silently pray that your neighbors won’t say anything to your mom about his van parked in the driveway, but even if they do, the tingling you felt in your chest was well worth it- and besides, no matter what she said, you were an adult. Just as you're thinking this, Eddie stands to pick his bag up off of the floor, slipping the books he brought out onto the coffee table, before zipping it back up and holding it awkwardly in his hands.
“I guess I should probably get going,” he says with a shrug, “It’s getting late, and your mom will be home soon.”
“She said they were going to drink wine,” you respond. “You know Claudia, she wouldn’t drive after having even a sip. She’s going to sleep on her friend’s couch.”
“Oh,” he says, his eyes lighting up a little before he purses his lips and looks out the window. “Well, it’s pretty dark out now. I don’t wanna keep you up…”
There’s a brief pocket of silence, neither of you wanting to be the one to suggest what you’re thinking for fear of the other not returning the same feeling. You don’t want your disappointment at the idea of him not staying to be too evident, but you’re not sure how convincing you’re being. Your gaze drops down to his pretty lips, distracted by how he’s biting them, and wishing you could bite them instead. Faintly, so faintly you’re almost unsure if you even really heard it, he speaks your name, bringing your attention back to his eyes. You watch as he gathers the courage for his next words.
“Can I kiss you?”
It’s like time stops. You resist the urge to squeal like a little girl with a crush, but that is exactly how you feel. Slowly, you nod your head before moving your lips to say, ‘Yes,’ though no sound escapes you. He drops the bag, and kicks it out of the way when it lands at his feet before taking long strides toward you. The both of you lean forward, and he tilts his head slightly to make room for your noses. His breath fans your lips as he hesitates to close the distance. Impatient after months of pining, you grab him by the zipper of his jacket and finally do what you’ve been dreaming about for so long.
His lips are as soft as they look, and you conclude that your theory about his chapstick addiction is correct. With as much as he smokes (medicinal or otherwise), he must moisturize them pretty often. He actually tastes very faintly of tobacco, and you remember how he said he was trying to quit and only smoked cigarettes when he was jittery. You wonder if that meant that you make him as nervous as he makes you. The dirty taste was thankfully mostly covered up by a strong minty flavor, and that only makes you wonder even more, this time about if he also obsesses over little detail when he knows he’s going to see you. Whenever Dustin would inform you Eddie was on his way over, you would find yourself primping in front of the mirror, making sure your hair fell in place just the right way and your skin was clear of any blemishes. You even did this before you fully understood your feelings for the man were romantic. Picturing him having the afterthought to pop a mint before driving over to see you had you smiling against his lips.
“What?” he laughs, pulling away from you slightly and raising an eyebrow with both curiosity and amusement.
“Nothing,’ you reply, giggling softly. “Just thinking.”
“Oh? What about?” he asks, leaning in once again to peck you chastely before simply resting his forehead against your and gazing into your eyes. He walks you backwards, back to the couch and sits, pulling you down next to him.
You shake your head, still smiling. Your mind was racing a mile a minute and it was too much to explain, especially when the only thing you wanted was for him to kiss you silly. “Not now. Just come here,” you whisper as you thread your fingers through his hair and push yourself flush against him, ending up fully sat in his lap with his hands gripping your thighs.
You two last like this for a while, (mostly) innocently kissing, just enjoying the feeling of finally giving into temptation. Pretty soon, Eddie’s touch begins to roam, and your hips begin to rock. It was very quickly crossing the line from PG-13 to R. When you feel his cock harden beneath you, you make up your mind about what you want to happen.
“Eddie,” you moan while his tongue circles a bite mark he left on your neck, soothing the sting. He dismisses the sound, lost in his own world as his hands find purchase on your butt, assisting your movements against him. “Eddie,” you try again, shaking his shoulders slightly.
He immediately slides his hands up to a more modest area on your waist, and he lifts his head away from your neck to look at you. His pupils are blown wide, and his hair is wild. “Yeah, baby?” he says, sounding out of breath.
“Do you want to go to my room?” you ask. You can tell by the way he glances back down at your lips, then to your thighs, and finally back up to your eyes, that he knows exactly what you are implying.
“A- are you sure?” he forces out, barely believing what he’s hearing.
“I’m sure,” you confirm. “I’m ready.”
You’re both hurrying down the hallway, nearly tripping over each other’s feet in your haste. The walk to your bedroom is short, but after putting off the inevitable for so long, you can barely wait and have to resist jumping his bones before reaching your destination. Throwing open the door, he ushers you inside and shuts it behind him.
Eddie’s heavy leather jacket thuds as it hits the floor, his shirt being discarded soon after. Your mouth waters at the sight of his tattoos, but you barely have time to admire his partial nudity. He’s on top of you in a flash, pressing you into the wall and kissing you passionately. His curious hands rake over your body, and their wandering loosen the knot on your robe’s belt, causing the thick fabric to open slightly and expose your collarbone. Like a man starved, Eddie’s lips never lose contact with you as he rips the tie from your body, almost making you fall with the force behind it. He steadies you with his hands back on your waist, this time underneath the robe, and you can feel his touch so much better with only the thin silk of your nightgown between you. Shrugging the robe off, he helps you pull it down your arms before tossing it onto your carpet, and the cold air of your bedroom is fought off by his body warmth invading every inch of you.
“Do you want this as much as I do?” he whispers gravelly after parting his lips from yours.
He doesn’t need to clarify what exactly he wants, because you want it all with him. “I do,” you confirm.
He leads you over to your bed, a queen-sized four-poster, still unmade from this morning. You climb on top and turn to face him while sitting on your knees. He looms over you, standing at the foot of the bed with you kneeling on the mattress in front of him. His pretty eyes darken as he looks down and takes in your form.
“God, I like you like this,” he laughs from above you, “Is this what I gotta do for you to shut your mouth?”
“You like my mouth” you shoot back, sitting up to reach him and tangling your hands in his curls. You make a fist, thus pulling his hair slightly.
He grunts as you tug on his locks, but doesn’t let the innuendo in your last comment go. “You do have a real nice mouth,” he says as he swipes his thumb against your bottom lip. Before he can retract his hand, you open your mouth and suck the digit into it, swirling your tongue around the tip while looking up at him from behind your eyelashes.
“Fuck, baby,” he brokenly breathes out.
The only thing you see in his eyes is pure unadulterated lust, and you feel your belly grow warmer at the thought of what he was going to do about it. He withdraws his hand only to place it on your neck, his palm on the front of your windpipe. He’s not applying any pressure, so you can’t call it choking, but just the implication of such a touch has arousal pooling in your underwear. His thumb is warm and wet on your throat, and when he trails his hand from your neck to the back of your head, the breeze of air on the leftover saliva makes your skin feel cool. Eddie drops his head and his lips meet yours once again, but only just barely making contact. You try to deepen the kiss, but he’s returned the favor of holding onto a tuft of your hair, making it impossible to press against him more firmly without your hair being pulled. He laughs at your cries of protest, but gives in, sucking on your bottom lip and nipping at it before licking his tongue past the threshold of your mouth.
Kissing like this isn’t the most comfortable, what with the springs of your mattress digging into your knees and your neck craning up to be able to reach Eddie, but you could stay in this position for hours if it meant he was going to keep touching you the way he was. The hand not tangled and tugging at your hair was sliding up your side, dragging the silk of your nightie up. He bunched the fabric up in a fist, which caused it to be lifted enough that your cotton panties were on display. You briefly worry about whether he was going to think the underwear you had on was sexy or not, considering it wasn’t silky or lacy like your nightgown was. It was just a simple and comfortable pair of navy blue panties with a white elastic waistband.
While you were busy overthinking, Eddie bent at his knees and kissed down your jaw, releasing your hair to raise the fabric on the other side of your nightie up to the same level, then backed away to pull it the rest of the way up over your head and off your body. You felt a little self conscious, bare chested in nothing but a pair of underwear that wasn’t even sexy. Your arms went to fold in front of you, but Eddie dropped the silk and grabbed your wrists, stopping you.
“Don’t cover yourself,” he whispers, his eyes glued to your body, “You’re so beautiful.”
Blood rushes to your head as you bite back a smile at his compliment. Any anxiety you previously felt about him judging you vanishes, and in its place comes even more need. Eddie tells you to lay down as he softly nudges your shoulder, and you do as he says with no contest. He hooks his fingers underneath the elastic of your panties before waiting for one last head nod from you. When you give the okay and lift your hips, he slowly pulls the fabric off of you, sucking in a breath when your bare pussy finally crosses his line of sight.
He crawls onto the bed and kisses up your torso, starting at your hip bone and making his way all the way up to your clavicle. The hard tent in his jeans rubs against the delicate skin of your inner thigh as he spends extra time marking up your neck, and you get impossibly wetter at the proof of the effect you have on him. When he pulls away, the mattress dips by both sides of your face due to him propping himself up by his arms. His legs bend as he sits up, successfully caging you in, and he takes a moment to just look at you.
“I’m gonna get you ready for me, okay baby?” he says quietly, one of his hands leaving their spot next to your head as he traces his fingertips lightly down the dip in between your breasts, over your belly button, and caresses your dripping slit.
“Yeah, okay,” you mutter out your consent. With your brain as cloudy as it was, you weren’t entirely sure what he was proposing, but you were at a point by now where you would agree to anything.
His middle digit slips easily past the soaked folds around your weeping hole, and he circles the entrance teasingly, collecting your juices before finally breaching, and just his fingertip enters into you. An embarrassing high pitched squeak escapes from your throat, and you raise yourself up onto your elbows to get a better look at what he’s doing to you.
“You wanna watch as I warm you up with my fingers, princess?” he croons at you sweetly. “It’s pretty, ain’t it?”
You take a deep gasp of air as his finger disappears further into you, his hands are bigger and tougher than your own, and the difference is very noticeable. He bends and straightens his wrist over and over, pumping in and out of you with ease, and the foreign feeling is strange yet pleasurable. Another finger slides inside, and he works them into you, opening you up. He’s determined to make the next step after this as satisfying for you as possible.
“You’re so wet and tight, baby. You’re gonna feel so good on my cock,” he practically mewls. There’s a wild look in his eyes, and it only steers you closer to your climax. “You want that, baby? You wanna make me feel good? Make me crave you all the time, even more than I already do?”
His words are slurring together as he rambles on about how perfect he knows your pussy is going to feel around him. For the life of you, you can’t form any response that isn’t loud moaning, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind one bit. You feel the build up inside of you start, and your entire body tenses involuntarily as you prepare for what you know will be a mind-blowing orgasm.
“Are you gonna cum? My princess is gonna cum?” he asks, and you nod your head to the best of your ability given that the muscles in your neck are locked up. “You’re squeezing my fingers so fucking tight, baby. Show me how pretty you are when you cum. Show me, and I promise I’ll fuck you so good, so right. I’ll fuck you as many times as you let me, and I’ll do it anyway you want. Hard, slow, soft, fast… Just show me how perfect my girl is when she’s cumming around my fingers and I’ll give you what you need”
His promises push you over the edge, and you finish while crying out his name. Literally, you feel moisture leak from your eyes as your head pushes into the pillow beneath you. Eddie leans forward to kiss away the tears, all while still fingering you, helping you to ride out your orgasm for as long as possible.
“That’s it, that’s my girl,” you hear as you start to come back to the world. His hand slows down slightly, more focused on a deep and sensual rhythm, and you feel his hot breath on your temple as he continues to soothe you through your come down. “Did such a good job, sounded so pretty moaning my name, wanna make you make those sounds forever…”
He trails off as he pulls his hand away, and you both stare at his hand and watch how the light reflects off the glistening slick coating his fingers. He plunges them into his mouth, and groans around them at the taste as your jaw drops in disbelief. It was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Still recovering from both your shock and intense orgasm, you grunt out in annoyance when Eddie rolls off of you and stands up. You’re about to complain at the loss of contact, until you realize his reason for doing so was to unbutton his jeans. You instantly rise. Your head feels dizzy from sitting up too fast, but you push through the lightheadedness in order to give your full attention to what was about to happen.
Eddie hurriedly moves to yank his tight jeans down his legs, stumbling slightly but regaining his balance enough to not fall, then succeeds pulling down the denim and kicking his legs out of it. His legs are pale- as could be suspected from wearing nothing but full length pants in Indiana- and they look rather soft. You want to reach your hand out and graze his calf to see if they’re as soft as they appear, or if looks are deceiving and his dark wisps of leg hair actually have a coarse texture. There’s no time to dwell on that instinct, as very soon after discarding his pants he follows his boxers with them, and you’re distracted by hair in another area.
Eddie’s cock springs to his stomach when he straightens up from pulling off his underwear. The sight of it both makes you want to spread your legs and squeeze your thighs together, but the choice is made for you when Eddie takes your knee with one of his hands and settles between your legs on the bed. His lips met yours as his shaft grazed your soaked lips, brushing against your clit and causing you to buck up into hip, but your hips are pinned down by his pelvis. The pressure allows some relief, but you crave more.
“Fuck me,” you beg, “Please fuck me, Eddie.” You sound pathetic even to yourself, but you’re far past the point of no return as far as shame goes.
“Do you have protection?” he asks, in between kisses. “I didn’t bring condoms. I didn’t think- I didn’t expect you to actually-”
“I’m on the pill,” you cut him off. “Just fuck me.”
“Oh my god,” he groans, “Are you sure, princess?”
“Please, Eds,” you whine, “I need you.”
“You need me, baby?” he smiles against you while you nod your head. His teeth clash with yours as you try to pull him somehow closer to you than he already is. “I know what you need. I’m gonna give it to you, don’t worry.”
He lifts himself up so that he can grasp the base of his shaft, and slides up and down your slit before he positions the head of his cock to be poking your entrance. There was a stinging sensation as he stretched you out, sinking in slowly inch by inch until you can’t take anymore and have to stop him.
“Too big?” he asks, and the tone of his voice leads you to believe he’s asking this with genuine concern rather than inflating his own ego. He really doesn’t want to hurt you.
“I just need a s- second,” you stutter out while adjusting your pelvis, trying to ease the dull ache.
“Take all the time you need,” he murmurs while pecking you on the tip of your nose. Your hand immediately flies up to guide his lips to your own, and the emotion behind the kiss distracts you from the tenseness you feel, allowing you to loosen up slightly.
“God,” he moans, “you feel even more perfect than I imagined.”
A smug smirk crosses your face and you lift an eyebrow at him. “So you’ve imagined?” you ask, tilting your head and chuckling.
“Don’t act you haven’t fucked yourself with those fingers of yours while calling out my name,” he responds with a challenging look, “I can just picture it now, your sheets all crumpled from you tossing and turning, your hands cramping up but you ignoring it cause you’re so desperate to cum. Tell me, princess, when we would hang out, how long would you wait after I left to run up here and start rubbing this pretty little clit.”
As he tortures you with these (very true) accusations, his right hand snakes its way in between your bodies to start playing with your clit. He touches the nub with the tip of his thumb, applying pressure before rolling it in gentle circles. It’s too much and not enough at the same time.
“I asked you a question, baby,” he says, his lips now moving against your jaw as you focus on relaxing and getting used to the feeling of him inside you. “You gonna be a good girl and answer me?”
His vulgar words combined with his hand’s actions send you a wave of slick arousal, and suddenly you’re ready, and you want him deeper. “Eddie,” you whine, “more.”
“Nuh-uh,” he mutters, not moving an inch and keeping that deviously slow pace with his fingers. “I wanna hear about you touching yourself, princess.”
“Ugh!” you groan, kicking your leg out like a kid throwing a tantrum. “Eddie! It’s embarrassing!”
“No it’s not,” he comforts you, his left hand stroking your cheekbone as he leans down to kiss you sweetly on the lips. “When I’m thinking of you, I like to go nice and slow at first…”
Your breath gets stuck in your throat as you realize what he’s about to do. He’s going to tell you about him getting off to dirty thoughts of you. It should disgust you to know the boy who was teasing you and picking little fights for the past almost two years has been fantasizing about you, but it only gets you going more. You force your eyes open to look at him, and he’s already staring deeply at you, his face showing no signs of mocking.
“I think about those pretty lips, so soft. I think about what they’d feel like on my skin, around my cock.” His unabashed admissions are doing nothing to help with how impatient you’re getting, but his fingers stop circling your clit when you try to slide down deeper onto his dick yourself.
“I know you want it baby, but I’m trying to talk to you,” he whispers, “You don’t wanna be rude, do you? You already wouldn’t answer my question.”
“Sorry,” you whimper weakly, hoping that if you play along he’ll hurry up.
“So sweet for me,” he says as his hand starts up again and he nips at the sensitive skin in the crook of your neck. “I knew you’d be sweet. I knew your tough girl act was a show. All the times you got mouthy and bratty with me, you just wanted to be my sweet, good girl.”
“I take off everything but my panties. And then I lay down in bed, with the fan on cause I get hot. And I start feeling up my stomach-”
He cuts you off with a chuckle. “What are you talking about, princess?”
You bang your head on the pillow and start squirming. “I’m answering your question,” you whimper, “You’re taking too long, Eddie, I need it!”
His fingers circle your clit fast and he finally, finally sinks the rest of the way in you, bottoming out and filling you up so deep and full. “Keep going,” he orders as he starts rocking in and out of you at such a cruelly slow rate. As if reading your mind, he adds on, “I’ll go faster if you keep going.”
“Fuck, Eds,” you moan out in ecstasy, your mind empty and only able to think about his cock and what he’s doing to you. But you want- no, need- him to go faster, so you summon every brain cell you have and force yourself to speak semi-coherently.
“I feel up my stomach til I get goosebumps, and I start massaging my tits and thinking about what it would feel like if it was your h-hands,” you start to stutter as his left hand mimics your descriptions, tickling your abdomen as it makes its way to your chest. “And while I did that, I would spit on my fingers a little bit then stick my hand in my underwear, and I would start rubbing my clit.”
“And you imagined it was me doing it?” he interrupts, now thrusting into you a little harder and a little deeper, his hand massaging your breast before taking a nipple in between his thumb and pointer finger and rolling it gently.
You nod your head, too lost in the feeling to answer verbally. He really started to pick up the speed now, hitting a spot in you that you were never quite able to reach on your own, and it’s so sinfully delicious that you feel like you’re going to black out from the intensity of the pleasure. He feels so perfect moving against you, the velvety skin of his cock merging so right with your inner walls. You chastise yourself for holding out for so long, if you had known how blissful it would be, you would have confessed the day you realized your feelings. The idea that you could have been doing this for nearly a year has you cursing whatever forces that kept you apart, though a bitter voice in the back of your head reminded you it was your own stubbornness.
“Then what do you do?” he urges you on.
“Um, I would stay like that for a little while,” you continue, finding it difficult to get your thoughts out into full sentences, “and then when I was close I would… um, like stop playing with my tits. So that I could use that hand to finger myself.”
“Fuck, princess. The way you describe it… I bet you look so pretty when you’re touching yourself,” he groans, now pummeling in and out of you in a steady, fast rhythm. His eyes keep switching between watching you and being scrunched closed, like he’s trying to focus on making this last but still wants to look at your face. “I wanna see it someday. Will you show me?”
“Yeah, mhm, sure,” you agree, not even really paying attention to what he was asking you due to being too lost in what you were experiencing. Your orgasm was near, and you wouldn’t be able to hold it off for much longer. “Eddie, I’m close,” you warn, your nails digging into his back as your arms tighten around his neck.
“Me too, baby,” he says back. The rocking of his hips combined with the closeness of his face caused his lips to brush against yours in a repeated pattern, and the intimacy of that only builds your climax up faster. “Where do you want it?”
Eddie Munson, the bane of your existence for the past couple of years is asking you where you want him to cum. “Inside,” you answer without thought. “Inside me, Eds, I wanna feel you leaking out of me.”
“Oh fuck. You can’t say shit like that to me. How am I supposed to keep living my life like normal after this?” he whines, “Are you gonna cum for me, baby? I want you to go first.”
As he finishes telling you this, the wire snaps and you feel electricity shoot throughout your body. Your second orgasm is much stronger than your first, and considering how the first one had you nearly losing consciousness, that was really saying something. The shockwaves make you feel like you’re literally vibrating around him, and being able to feel his dick twitching as he released his load into you only added to that feeling. You were a moaning mess, gasping in and puffing out little breaths of air as you hopelessly cry out, ‘I’m cumming, Eddie, you’re making me cum,’ along with assorted swears over and over and over. His grip on your waist loosened as he wrapped his arms around your middle and held on tight, burying his head into your neck as he rode out his own orgasm. He muttered something into your skin that you couldn’t quite make out with it being muffled, but it sounded suspiciously close to, ‘I love you,’ and your heart leapt at that possibility.
After a few minutes, after you both gathered yourselfs, he rolled over onto his back and you cuddled up to his side. Your head rested on his bare chest and your arms hugged around his stomach, pulling him as close as you could.
“So,” he starts, his arms folded behind his head and a crooked grin adorning his face, “was I the biggest you’ve taken, or does that happen with all the guys you bring home?”
You furrow your brows in confusion as you turn your head to look at him. “What do you mean?” you manage to mumble out.
“I mean, how tight you were. And how you couldn’t take all of me at first,” he says, like it was obvious.
“Well, in sex-ed they said the first time usually hurts. This wasn’t as bad as I was expecting though, just kinda stung a little bit at first,” you explain, laying your head flat against him once more and scraping at the nail on your index finger with your thumb.
Eddie stops moving and is quiet for a good thirty seconds. You start to feel a trickling of doubt, and become anxious that you somehow said the wrong thing. He reaches up to take your hand in his, effectively stopping your nervous finger picking and stealing your attention. When you glance back up at him he’s staring at you with wide eyes and an open mouth.
“Princess,” he says slowly, like somehow you were the one in this situation not making any sense, “You’re not telling me that was your first time.”
Oh. You suppose that was a pretty important tidbit of information you withheld that he probably would’ve liked to have known before you engaged in intercourse. In your defense, there was no reason for him to assume you weren’t a virgin. You only graduated high school the year prior, and during your time at Hawkins you never had a serious boyfriend. Even when you were being crowned prom queen, your date to the dance was James McKenna, and he came out as gay the week after graduation before moving to New York. Sure, you were privy to the rumors thrown around in the boy’s locker room about what you did to this guy under the bleachers and what you did to that guy at Skull Rock, but there was no more gossip surrounding you than the average cheerleader.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize, suddenly feeling guilty for not being completely transparent. “I guess I just thought you knew, or like, would be able to tell?” you say, your intonation changing to a questioning lilt by the end of your sentence.
He starts blinking his wide eyes frantically, his head shaking in disbelief as he tries to think of what to say. That self conscious dread from earlier starts to sneak it’s way back in, and you begin having second thoughts, worrying if he- like your high school friends- thought it was weird that you waited to have sex. He must have noticed the fear in your eye, because he held you tighter against him and comfortingly rubbed up and down your forearm.
“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” he says, speaking quickly. “I guess I just assumed. I mean, you were so popular. Everyone wanted you, anyone would have been lucky to have you-” you smile and blush at his words- “And those guys on the basketball team were always bragging and telling stories-”
“If a plate of spaghetti grew legs and started walking around, those guys would claim that they fucked it. Why would you listen to that noise?” you interjected, your annoyance clear.
He held his hands up in defense. “You’re right, I don’t know why I believed any of that crap. I know you have better taste than that. I mean, you like me, so that proves you have a much more sophisticated taste in men.”
“Sophisticated is one word for it, I guess,” you mumble while rolling your eyes, before sitting up to grab your nightie from the foot of the bed.
“If you weren’t active, why were you on the pill?” he questions you while rubbing your back.
“I’m a grown woman. I figured it was going to happen eventually, and I wanted to make sure I was ready when it did,” you answer distractedly as you work on turning your pajamas the right side out.
Eddie hums in understanding but is otherwise quiet as he watches you redress yourself, except for a cheeky wolf whistle when you need to bend over to pick up your panties. Once you're covered up again, you turn around to see him staring at you in amusement.
“What?” you ask with a smile, climbing back onto the bed and throwing a leg over his thighs, settling onto his lap. The tips of your noses brush against each other as you see that gleam in his eyes you recognize as him trying to stifle laughter when teasing you. “What is it?” you repeat, shoving him gently on his chest before looping your arms around his neck.
He shakes with silent laughter then leans back to quirk a brow at you. “A plate of spaghetti?” he asks. You grab a pillow to hit him in the head with, but drop it when you’re tackled and pinned down, giggling and kicking your feet as he kisses up your collar bone.
rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader scenario maybe??<3
why have I never done this b4. tysm for ur request! this is all consensual they're just messing around!!! ♡ fem!reader
"You can't go out there tonight like that," Eddie says.
You stare at him.
"You realise you're wearing less clothing than I am, right?" you ask.
"It's not about how much. Just... fuck. Fuck, how am I supposed to go out there and act like you're not the hottest girl on earth?"
You snort at your bandmates overdramatics and pull down the ends of your skirt to cover more of your thigh than before. Not a lot, but some.
Eddie takes a step toward you and his wild curls jolt with the movement. You take a step back, already giggling at his desperate look. "Stay the fuck away from me," you say.
You take another step back and almost trip over a low table covered in mini sandwiches. "I'm serious, Munson," you say, not serious at all.
"You're a fucking sicko. Dressing like that 'n I'm supposed to ignore it? Get over here, now."
"Brrr," you say, pretending to rub your naked upper arms. "Chills, seriously."
He narrows his eyes at you and rounds the table in one quick step, all long legs and arms as he grabs you and presses you down into the couch. You kick the table as you go and a plate of cucumber and carrot sticks goes flying.
"Nice going," you say. You look up into Eddie's eyes unflinchingly. They're darker now, stage make-up lining under his long lashes so that they appear impossibly larger.
Eddie squeezes your waist, too rough by a fraction. Your breath hitches in your throat as he feels up the length of you, ring-heavy fingers curling in the end of your shirt and tugging.
He looks like a kid in a candy store.
"We don't have time for this."
"It's this or we fuck on stage," he says seriously.
You laugh and drop your head against your shoulder, peeking up at him from under your lashes. Demure, you murmur, "Oh, well we can't have that."
He raises his eyebrows. "Maybe-"
You slap his chest lightly and find it quickly crushed between you, his face ducked down to catch yours in a kiss equal parts rough and adoring. He smiles as your teeth click, as you gasp, as you turn your face into his searchingly.
"Ouch," you mumble, faux-annoyed at his roughness.
He mouths messily over your cheek, quick and nipping kisses. "Shut up, you like it," he says at your ear.
You're inclined to agree.
moments tucked away
Steve Harrington x Reader
Summary: Steve is a menace to sleep with. Why? Because he hogs all your blankets.
A/N: That's it, that's the story; I just vomited fluff on my writing app. Enjoy.
The situation was less than ideal.
It's not like Indiana highways near Hawkins had many luxury motels. But still, would it be too much trouble to have a heater in the room?
It was mid-winter and the roads wore a white blanket over them. When one is coming back from Indianapolis — after a trip that was supposed to be quick but wasn't, because someone forgot to check the car's battery — and all but a blizzard starts falling from the sky, snow so thick you can't see five feet ahead of you, it gets just about impossible to keep driving in the night.
You didn't have to think too much about it when the motel's old neon sign appeared on the white horizon. It was safer to wait it out even if you didn't have a change of clothes with you, even if there were unspoken words darting back and forth between the looks you shared with Steve, your roommate for the night.
There wasn't a spot in the parking lot near the entrance, many people had the same idea as you. You two had to bury your feet in the light snow to reach the reception, soaking your sneakers and coating Steve's hair in white snowflakes.
The old lady in the reception was less than impressed by your clattering teeth and Steve's purple lips, she handed you the keys and before you could ask for separate rooms she was shutting you up with; "this is the last one we have."
And so you ended up here, in a double bed that felt way too small to be called a double bed, hearing the glass windows shake with the howling wind outside — wind that seeped through the cracks in the wood and didn't allow the room to hold warmth — and with your back pressed to Steve's shoulder, your feet brushing his lower leg when you moved, and all too aware of how warm his body felt.
The night seemed to stretch on endlessly, the red numbers on the bedside clock telling you it had been about five minutes since the last time you looked when it felt like thirty.
Steve was snoring softly beside you. You couldn't sleep.
You clutched the covers in your hands, which were barely covering you, and pulled them closer to your chest, trying to fool your body into warming itself up. Blowing hot breath into your hands, the tips of your fingers against your lips were icy.
Your movements were all rigid and slow, just trying to get comfortable because it's been about two hours since the most awkward conversation of your life — convincing Steve to not sleep in the sorry excuse of a couch you had in the room because you didn't fancy waking up to him in a hypothermic state — and all you did was toss and turn in the bed.
Steve's breathing changed pace beside you, he mumbled something, and turned, away from you and taking the damn covers with him in a strong grip.
Cold air bit at your skin instantly, your lips hovering open as if he'd personally offended you. With an annoyed huff, you turned too, both hands gripping the end of the pastel pink blanket and yanking hard.
Steve woke up with a start when the fluffy material was snatched from his grip. He sat up in a quick motion, blinking several times until his eyes adjusted, head turning from one side to another trying to remember where he was.
You felt bad, but only a little.
Just after his eyes landed on you beside him, that Steve seemed to relax, shoulders moving with deep breaths. He let himself fall back on the bed, hitting his pillow with a thud, one hand going over his eyes. "What the hell?" He grumbled, voice thick with sleep.
"You were hogging the blankets and it's cold." You mumbled, only being able to make out the outline of Steve's nose and lips in the dark.
He let out a mix between a sigh and a chuckle, turning to you, his eyes shining with the faint glow of the street lights from outside. "'m sorry."
You two were all lazy words and forgotten boundaries, with the rational part of your brains clouded with sleep at such late hours.
You reached out, throwing the other half of the blanket over Steve again; the warmth of his body momentarily engulfed your touch, your fingers grazing over his chest, making you want to be closer. Even closer, that is.
"Are you cold?" He whispered, his breath fanning over your lips. A hand caught hold of yours before you could tuck it back, his fingers closed around yours.
"A little." You breathed, the skin of his palm holding most of the focus still awake in your body.
You pulled away when, instead of answering, Steve made to move closer; "go back to sleep Steve, we still have a bit of a drive in the morning."
The yearning to say more was almost palpable, Steve's lips hovering open for a beat before he clamped them shut and nodded. He did as told, and closed his eyes.
An hour passed, maybe less, and sleep was finally starting to take over your tired body; but the boy beside you had other plans.
The covers were taken from you, again, in a smooth motion, remaining only over your feet.
You groaned his name in frustration, bringing both hands over your eyes and feeling droplets of tears collecting there; because you were tired, and you were cold. You just wanted to rest and honestly, you just wanted to be closer to-
"Didn't mean to, didn't mean- sorry." Came Steve's groggy voice right after, his eyes not even completely open and he was already turning to you.
He threw the covers over your body, his arm going around your waist and staying there when you refused to look at him. "Hey, hey, jus- just come here yeah?" He urged, words slurring together as he gently tugged on your shirt.
You slowly uncovered your eyes with a sigh, looking in his direction with pursed lips, "what?"
"C'mere, c'mon." Steve didn't wait for an answer before pulling you closer, steady arms around your waist gluing your body to his.
He was like a human radiator, all soft and warm skin and tight embraces, the kind that makes you feel the safest. He had his limbs tangled with yours in no time, face burying in your hair as a pleased hum escaped his lips.
You didn't know if his brain was half asleep and he wasn't thinking this through, or if he just didn't care about the implications at all. But he was so goddamn warm, and as you snuggled against his chest and slid a bold hand under his shirt to hold him; you decided you didn't care either.
Morning came with the company of a clear sky, the calm after the storm; a chilly breeze flowing outside with the company of birds singing and basking in the sun's rays.
A low groan escaped Steve when a golden light came over his eyes. He furrowed his brows, slowly blinking his eyes open. For a cheap motel bed, he felt incredibly cozy and well-rested. He squeezed the comforting weight that rested on top of him, breathing in the sweet smell of coconut shampoo.
His hand moved up on the curve of your waist, drawing up your shirt a little, over your shoulder blades, and up to your hair, then finally his drowsy mind started to catch up with what happened last night.
Steve tensed, his body going rigid under you for just a second, just until he glanced down; your head was resting on his chest, lips partly open as you snored softly, your hand had disappeared under his shirt, and he could feel your skin touching his abdomen.
There was a beat, a moment tucked away in a secluded motel bedroom where Steve prayed his thundering heart wouldn't wake you up, not yet. He raised a hand, all silk-like touch and innocent hope, fingertips brushing away a few stray hairs that covered your eyes.
Your eyebrows crunched together and Steve wanted to plant a kiss in between them. You woke up with a groan, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with your free hand. Steve felt when you realized the same thing he did just a moment ago, your body freezing on his hold before you tentatively glanced up at him.
"Morning," Steve tried with a smile, fingers tracing up and down your arm as he counted the beats of his heart until the moment you'd pull away.
It never came. You huffed, cheek marked with sleep as a lazy smirk came to your lips. Your eyes moved over Steve's face and he could only imagine the wildness of his hair at this time in the morning.
You stretched, and snuggled against him again comfortably. You played with the hem of his shirt as you said, "next time, we're using two blankets."
Steve chuckled, all warm cheeks and goofy smile. He hugged you closer, lips brushing over your hairline.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3
Steve’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @tiaamberxx @alexisaflop @alicetweven @just-love-reading @katsukis1wife @frostandflamesfanfic @k1ngeddie @andraimeide @esoltis280 @robinbuckleyssgf @justacrush
Let me know if you wanna be added to his taglist.
hihi honey :] today i am simply thinking about kissing eddie. i know he's the grossest, messiest kisser in the world, and if you have anything to add to that, i'd be a very happy gal <3
mei my baby!!!! this is for u honey <3 (i tried to make it messy. i really did!)
you find comfort in the calloused skin of his palm that cradles your face. the rough texture of his denim tickles the inside of your thighs, legs on either side of him. his hot breath aerates your plump cheeks that his thumbs keep caressing, nose meeting in a soft impact whenever he tilts his head. your joint lips crescendos the faster and the quicker your lips break apart as avidity amplifies.
it's as if his lips are hemlock and mithridatism titles itself vain as you melt and dissolve into his pacifying kiss. eddie swallows your moans and heavy breaths, one hand steering down to grip tightly on the pudgy flesh of your ass, impelling your chest against his; his mouth is greedy, omnipotent, so fucking saccharine, and messy.
eddie kisses you idly with a wide mouth and a tongue that ventures the inside of your mouth, his thick muscle grazing your own—if not, entwining. your hand tangles itself in his hair, tugging just the way he likes it, feeling the fire that surrounds robust as you go deeper against him. he grunts, moving his hand up to your waist, the other tilting your head to the other side as he leans up.
"your lips..." he mumbles suddenly, lips hovering yours, slanting for an upcoming kiss yet your mouths never abut. your eyes flutter open, peering through your eyelashes to gaze into his darkened umber eyes, pupils blown in reverential lust. "taste so fucking amazing,"
you chuckle shyly, your hands resting beneath his jawline to camber his neck upward. eddie smiles, pearls glinting. "is it because of the weed, or the mac and cheese?"
he tucks a stray hand behind your ear, smile falling lightly to gaze up at you like some deity as the sun that peers through the window descends above your head like a deformed gilded halo; eddie moves your head down until his lips meet your forehead, a cold, wet but soft texture pressed against it. "just you, sweetheart,"
"flirt," you trace a finger across his jawline down to his neck. "you're already kissing me. cut the moves, munson."
he kisses you this time. messier. grosser. his tongue darts out, grazing the sides of your lips just so they'd meet yours. you break apart in wet, almost lewd clicks, his teeth biting lightly on your bottom lip, tugging before he lets it go and watches it plop back in place before he sucks lightly on your tongue. you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head before his mouth invades yours once more.
you're grinding on his lap now, feeling something acute growing beneath you that lifts you up just a bit. you whine softly, spit smeared across eddie's lips, now swollen. but he looks so pretty. so pretty.
and with that, his hand lifts and lands down to slap your ass. you jolt, gasping in his mouth, only for him to sit up and wrap his arms around you like a bear hug to make your mouth even wetter. your chin's got a sheen layer of saliva from his slobby kisses, and he finds it so interesting that eddie smiles.
"eds," you move away from him, wiping the back of your hand across your mouth. "baby. 's getting messy,"
he shakes his head, whines like a petulant child. "nuh uh. more. come here."
when he kisses you again, eddie's grunting now like an animal. lips covetous, avaricious, selfish for more of your taste; the wanting to usurp horrifying to others but oh so luxurious to your hedonistic pursuits. it's evergreen that burns beautifully in the fires of hell.
heavenly ━━━ steve harrington blurb.
pairings: steve harrington x fem!reader.
summary: oral sex with steve.
warnings: nsfw, oral sex, fingering, cursing, slight use of degrading terms and uses of pet names.
author’s note: in my ‘i hate my writing but i need to post something’ mood so enjoy this ig. do not copy, post on another site, translate or claim any of my works as your own or you will be reported! nav.
If there was one thing in this world to which you were addicted to, it would be Steve's mouth. Every part of your body had been touched and marked by it, which loved to worship the temple of your softness. He has always had a wonderful mouth, and you are endlessly satisfied by it, but other than his beautiful mouth that gives you endless pleasure, you also love his tongue.
Steve always had a sense of putting you at ease. His love and lust combined for you filled you with his never-ending crystalline passion; there was something about the way he was so committed to please that you absolutely adored about him. He had this kind of charm that he radiated whenever he was around you.
The sensation of his lips against your skin was enough to push you over the edge as you marveled at the way his mouth nibbled and sucked on your neck, covering it with lovebites as you whimpered and moaned underneath him. You were silently sighing as Steve kissed you on your neck, to your collar bones, and then your shoulders. His movements were unhurried, as if he were taking his sweet time to enjoy every inch of you.
You started to tremble as Steve's mouth moved from your shoulders to your bare chest and finally your stomach, grabbing his hair with your delicate hands and biting your bottom lip. His large hands were at your hips as he rough-kissed your stomach and rubbed his thumbs against the fabric of your underwear before pulling it down. You gasped in shock when you realized that you were completely bare in front of Steve.
Not the first time anyway.
Steve's finger found its way to your clit and he rubbed the tip of his fingers on the slit before carefully inserting a finger, then another, making you buck your hips and moan ludicrously. It felt so fucking good, Steve's fingers were stretching your pussy wider, and his other hand went to your thighs to widen your legs to give him more access.
“You're such a filthy slut; are you going to cum just from my fingers?” Steve teased you by pumping and swirling his fingers on your clit.
“God, Steve, shit,” you moaned, your hands gripping the sheets of the bed.
“My pretty baby is so filthy only for me, isn’t that right?” he groaned.
“Yes,” you cried out, soaring on the sensation of his fingers stretching you.
You bucked your hips up, wanting to grind more on his fingers, but Steve's other hand pulled you down and you were breathing heavily as you sneaked a peek at him. You saw his eyes darken with sheen lust as he removed his fingers from your cunt, making you whine, and he lowered his head until his hot breath was hitting the entrance of your swollen pussy, making you moan in pleasure and surprise.
His marvelous mouth began kissing your inner thighs, and you sighed with pleasure. You then let out a loud groan as his lips brushed firmly on your pussy and caressed it. His large hands were both at your waist to prevent you from bucking your hips. The sounds he made as he devoured your pussy caused you to arch your back as his tongue caressed your sensitive cunt.
“Shit,” he moaned against your pussy, making you throb at the buzz of his lips. When you came, you felt Steve smiling against you and he licked every drop clean of your pussy with no shame. His tongue was so fucking pleasing. “You taste so heavenly, princess.”
𝐓𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 (𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐅!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a little fic about eddie and your stuffed animals, and him finally getting one of his own. 
𝐀/𝐍: so @mindidjarin and i were talking about how much eddie would love your stuffed animals and we wanted to share what we came up with!
Eddie is absolutely obsessed with your stuffed animals. From the first time he came over to your house, he’s always taken an interest in them- asking you their names and when you got them. It makes you so happy that he didn’t mind them because you’d been so anxious about him making fun of you- even considering hiding your collection away under your bed.
But now, without fail, you can always find Eddie lying on your bed, looking a little out of place, with one of your childhood teddies held close to his chest. His favourite thing to do with them is to talk in a, shockingly bad, British accent- performing various dramatic monologues, moving the animal’s paws as he speaks them. At first, you thought he was doing it to make you laugh, but deep down, Eddie is the one having all the fun.
One day when, as usual, he’s lying among your stuffed animals, you ask him why he always gravitates towards them when he enters your room. With a sheepish smile and a flushed face, he tells you about how he didn’t really have any when he was younger- always moving houses and never having much money meant that these things were never a priority. By the time he moved in with Wayne, he just assumed he was too old for that kind of thing.
Your heart broke hearing this. He of course shrugged it off and said it was fine, that others have worse childhoods. But you couldn’t help wanting to do a little something for younger Eddie.
The next day, you go down to your nearest shopping mall and meticulously search for the perfect stuffed animal. You really want something that fits Eddie’s personality, and you aren’t going to settle for anything but the best.
Finally, you find the perfect bear, and you race back to his trailer. When you get there, a confused Eddie looks down at the gift bag you’re clutching excitedly, practically bouncing up and down on his front step. You drag him inside, not being able to wait a moment longer, and hand him his present.
He pulls it from the bag, making the normal sized bear look tiny in his ringed fingers. “I wanted to buy you your first bear,” you explain to him.
The smile he gives you makes the two hour hunt worth it. It’s hard not to get choked up when you see the emotion in his chocolate brown eyes, almost like it’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him.
With a boyish smile, he introduces himself to the bear and talks in the same voice he uses for your stuffed animals. “His name is Teddy Munson,” you tell him with a giggle.
He looks between you and the bear, appearing sceptical at the choice of name at first, before shaking its paw and sternly saying, “a pleasure to meet you, Mr Teddy Munson.”
Eddie kisses you on the forehead, lingering there for a few moments as he caresses your cheekbone. You know what he means, what he’s trying to wordlessly say, and you return the gesture with a kiss to the nose before also introducing yourself to the new member of the family.
Teddy does not leave his side for the rest of the night, even joining the both of you on the couch to watch a movie. You begin to think maybe this wasn’t the best idea as he insists on wedging him between you both as you sleep. You pout, missing your usual cuddles. But it all fades away when you wake in the middle of the night to find him cuddling the bear close to his chest, looking so peaceful and beautiful. Maybe even the most metal boyfriend deserves something soft in his life.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @sweetpeapod @munsonownsmyass
Casual Dominance - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: various instances where your bf Eddie Munson demonstrates dominant behaviors in your relationship.
A/N: I wrote this pretty quickly as all these scenarios of Eddie being soft/dominant came to me all at once. I am such a sucker for casual dominance like this with Eddie in other fics and had to divulge and write some of my own. I must admit I did draw inspo from a writer on here who I can't remember (sorry!) where they wrote something about Eddie pulling the reader's skirt down. Ever since I read that, it has lived in my brain rent free and thus this was created. So, thank you to that writer whoever you are! Also, the format of this fic is a bit wonky but I hope you're still able to enjoy! <3
Word Count: 1,467
Warnings: smoking, creepy men, drinking, protective Eddie, kissing, defensive Eddie, drugs, fluff
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Eddie is definitely the type to display various ways of casual dominance. He would never be overbearing but I feel like he’d be very protective of you, wanting to ensure the absolute best for you. He had never loved someone so deeply as love in his own life was scarce. A true romantic at heart, Eddie would vow to protect those who he loves dearly, and my oh my if you were his significant other, you would be at the top of his list.
Sometimes when you’d come home drunk after seeing Corroded Coffin perform at The Hideout, he’d take off your makeup for you, knowing you’d regret it if you didn't because every single time your eyes burned as soon as you cracked them open in the morning. He’d lead your stumbling figure over to sit on the toilet before getting your makeup wipes that he had stashed away in his room.
“Come on Edsss,” you drawled out, “ ‘m tired,” punctuating your sentence with a huff and a slight pout to your drawn lips.
He chuckled as he ran his thumb softly over your extended bottom lip, he found you so endearing when you were like this.
“I know, honey, but we got to get your makeup off.” He spoke in a hushed voice despite the trailer being only the two of you as Wayne was working his shift at the plant.
You mumbled incoherently with a slight whine to your now higher-pitched voice.
Eddie had now kneeled to be eye level with you, one of his large jeweled hands expanding over your exposed knee. His warmth seeping into your already heated body.
His other hand worked to wipe at your darkened eyes gently. His face contorted in concentration as he worked. His dark eyebrows pulled in towards each other as his pink tongue made its way to the corner of his lip. The room suddenly grew quiet with only the hum of the overhead fan going and the soft breaths of yours and Eddie’s filled the air.
Finally finishing your eyes, Eddie made haste in wiping off the color on your now stained lips. You hummed at this, knowing he’d be finished soon. As that peaceful look came across your face, he couldn't help but stare with pure love and adoration in his eyes. His large brown doe eyes sparkled under the rather dull bathroom light but all could see the purity that pooled in his eyes.
He could no longer resist before pressing his lips to yours in a soft gentle kiss. You reciprocated it despite not being able to really feel it as the alcohol still coursed heavy through your veins.
“I love you so much sweetheart, you know that?”
You now opened your eyes to see the face that you were always meant to love.
“Yes, Eds. I love you too.”
The two of you stared, taking the moment to truly let the words sink in. You interrupted the serene moment as the weight of your limbs came back from the floaty feeling Eddie’s love gave you just a moment before.
”Can I cuddle with my Eddie Teddy now?” You asked as your lips pouted again and your eyes turned to puppy ones.
Eddie’s laugh ricocheted off the plastic walls as your smile grew into a giggle.
“Of course, sweetheart, let’s go.”
Another instance would be when you’d be talking energetically about something and he would adjust your clothing or hair. Once you were talking enthusiastically about how great the new song was to the hellfire boys at a band session when the neckline of your shirt began to lower. Eddie was quick to spot the top of your bra and moved to smooth out your shirt.
He placed his large hand on your back and slightly tugged the shirt back into place. All the while, the boys made sure to keep direct eye contact with you as they respected Eddie too much to be disrespecting him in front of him. His eyes met yours briefly as you continued to talk and he gave you an encouraging smile as you continued expressing your excited feelings.
Another time, you both were at a party playing a stupid drinking game that he can’t seem to ever remember where you were standing and sitting down again. With your constant movement of going up and down, your skirt had begun to ride up. He noticed some of the guys were taking quick glances at your receding skirt line and exposed thighs. Eddie would tell them “Hey! Watch yourself,” putting on that intimidating, hard exterior that had been cultivated from years of being the town freak.
It worked every single time as the guys would quickly look away and not dare to spare another curious glance. His large hand would then gently tug down the material of your skirt, all while admiring your beautiful smile and knowing only he could get to see that much of your exposed skin. Therefore, tying into my idea of Eddie being a “my girl can wear what she wants, I can fight” kind of guy.
Eddie would constantly carry your purse, backpack, shopping bags, anything. He’d refuse to let you carry things as he wanted you to be as comfortable as possible and enjoy whatever you were doing wholeheartedly. He would often look silly with your frilly, soft-toned purses against his hard, studded outfits of metal band t-shirts, signature leather jacket, battle vest, and ripped jeans. Yet, he never hesitated and always felt pride with you by his side.
One thing he’d always make sure to do was be the driver when you'd two hang out or go to school. He felt a sense of control when he was behind the wheel, knowing he’d be cautious in protecting his beautiful passenger princess.
When he’d catch you trying to smoke one of his cigarettes, he’d give you a stern warning that often led into a lecture on how he does not want a pretty thing like you to get addicted. When you’d ask him why he could do it but not you, he'd reply with a simple, “I’ve got a reputation to maintain, sweetheart.” The response always left you huffing and puffing while he gave you a signature Munson smirk and inhaled the delicious smoke.
He would also put you behind him if someone got in his face or a client would unexpectedly walk up to him. Sometimes when things got a little rowdy at The Hideout, he’d shield you away from the brashness of heightened testosterone and alcohol levels. Whether it’d be someone in the audience or a member from the other acts wanting to pick a fight, he’d slowly put his arm out and guide you behind his tall figure, puffing his chest out and making his stature stoic and hard. You couldn't complain though, as the view of his broad shoulders and stiff back had you swooning and wanting to run your hands over the expanse of his sexy back profile.
Or when you’d be out and about around town, enjoying yourselves and a client would interrupt the two of you. You knew he dealt and was fine with it but he did not want those two aspects of his life crossing. Thus, when a client who was seemingly desperate for goods came up to you and Eddie, he’d immediately shield you from their sight. He’d tell them that now was not the time in that lower register of his that you’d never hear directed at you.
The client would try and argue with Eddie but he never backed down. Meanwhile, You’d just brush your thumb across his knuckles as he held your hand behind him, assuring him of your calming presence. Once the agitated client left, Eddie would relax his body and apologize softly. You’d always forgive him but the incident would still leave him upset for a while. That is until the next time he spoke to said client and it would be understood that that would never happen again.
Even when he was not around, he had told the boys to look out for you as the target on his back easily transferred to yours. The hellfire boys all agreed as you’d quickly become one of their own. So in the rare moments when he wasn’t with you and one of the boys was when someone decided to shoot off a mean remark, they’d be there ready to defend you.
So yeah, even though this isn’t an ask or really a fic, more like a really long blurb???, I definitely feel like Eddie would be casually dominant with you out of sheer love. Now, in the bedroom, this would transfer in mind-blowing ways that plenty of people here on this site have written about.
Thank you for reading, Angel! <3
𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.
bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader
✶There was an obvious implication as to why Eddie would invite you to ring in the New Year with him. Even his friends knew it, leaving you two alone at the countdown to 1986. Would tonight be the night he finally kissed you?✶
NSFW — mechanic!eddie, fluff, flirting, being dumb teenagers young adults, 18+ overall for smut, drug/alcohol mention/use
chapter: 8/? [wc: 8.1k]
↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08
Chapter 8: Midnight Sparks
You nestled deeper into your coat, and jogged to the door of Bradley’s Big Buy, wincing from the glare of the gray clouds reflected on the windows. The forecast said it was supposed to be sunny today.
It started with a weekly phone call like any other. You were huddled on your bed, face turned away from your roommate’s prying gaze. She sat at her study desk, cranking the timer you both used to keep things civil.
Whatever. What did she care if the line was busy, anyway? It’s not like she had a new boyfriend to call her after she was dumped two weeks ago.
“They give you a few days off, don’t they?” Eddie probed with a persuasive inflection at the end of his sentence. “C’mon, it’s New Years. Why don’t you swing by and pay a visit to your dear ol’ pal, Eddie?”
He was smirking like a villain, wasn’t he? So smug, so carefree. Cracking a smile to where his top lip met his cheek dimple, showing off the mischievous gleam on his canines. It’s just the worst expression. Detestable.
“Swing by?” you repeated incredulously. “In what world is a trip to see your sorry ass in Indiana ‘swinging by’?”
“I know you don’t have plans for New Year’s–”
“You don’t know that.”
“Do you have plans?”
“..No,” you admitted.
You could picture him with irritating clarity. How his raised eyebrows fell into diabolical slants, eyes crinkled at the corners, stupid grin deepening once he caught you; how he shrugged and clapped his hands when he assumed a pitying, pompous tone after sucking his teeth, “Well, I guess that settles it, then! You’re coming here to spend New Year’s Eve with us. I’ll make the trip worth it, I promise. Tons of fireworks, hanging out with the guys, and hey, I’ll even throw in the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of a private show of your favorite band, Corroded Coffin, up close and personal.” He paused to grant you the space for one sigh, then he sweetened the deal. “I’ll tune up your car for you.”
He laughed. “Free, but I do accept gifts and favors as a form of payment, my dear.”
“As humble as ever, I see,” you said, rather than commit to more. It was bad enough he had you wrapped around his finger, speaking gently into the phone snug against his mouth, dragging his lips over the plastic, invoking the tender side of him when trying to convince you to come see him. Where a subconscious sadness smoothed the sharp edges of his teasing.
Of course you wanted to see him again.. However, the traditional way of ringing in the New Year sat like a weight on your chest. The same creeping anxiety of knowing he’d ask you to come to Hawkins again, and the same dread of knowing nothing would come of it.
It was finally your turn to be noticed.
“Fine, you’ve worn me down. I’ll come. But I’m not happy about it.” You’ve made worst decisions in your life.
And that’s the story of how a boy persuaded you into coming back to the small town you had no intention of returning to without a good reason.
Eyes adjusting to the dingy grocery store, you scanned the short aisles for anyone you recognized, and were relieved to see the place was rather empty, aside from the owner doing a crossword puzzle at the counter. You grabbed a hand basket and perused the cold section at the back. Subsisting on convenient snacks and coffee since you left campus, you were more than ready for one of the ready-made sandwiches in the deli section, and any piece of fresh fruit or vegetable you could find.
Reading over the flavors of Gatorade in the drink cooler, you grabbed one, dropped it in the basket on the floor and stood up, arguing in your head about if you should order take-out to be delivered for the group tonight, or wait and see if someone like Jeff was considerate enough to think of that ahead of time. All of this left you vulnerable to the looming presence behind you, who was bending to speak over your shoulder.
You spun so fast, the creep’s lips brushed the shell of your ear. His warm breath fanned your neck. Flashes of walking to your dorm alone at night had you springing into action before a second thought crossed your mind.
At the front of the store, the owner looked up from his newspaper, peering over his glasses at your nuisance.
“Whoa, there,” Eddie laughed, tracing the corner of his mouth with his tongue, doing a terrible job at hiding his amusement amidst his surprise. He made a motion like he was going to cup his hands over your fists to ease you out of your defensive position, then thought better of it. He posed with his arms up like he was surrendering.
Still considering punching him, you released a seething exhale of, “Jesus Christ, Eddie–!”
“I guess that answers if you’re a ‘fight’ or ‘flight’ response type of person.”
Refraining from greeting him, you went straight to asking the one question he deserved, “I’ve been here for all of three minutes, how is it you always know where to find me? And don’t,” –You emphasized– “Don’t tell me that you just do.”
“It’s my special talent,” he answered like the bastard he was.
You should’ve punched him.
Taking a tiny step away, Eddie averted his attention around the store for a few vain seconds, then gave up, returning to you. He chewed the inside of his cheek in spite of his abundant grin growing under the shy once-over you gave him. “Almost didn’t recognize you,” he said, more blatant in his observations. Raking his gaze over the length of your body. Deliberate, and tenacious. Taking his time to absorb you as you stood before him. Stopping at details you could only guess at. Devouring you openly. Fearlessly involving his fingers on your suede sleeve, dragging his fingertips down to the fluffy cuff and curling them inward, admiring the softness brushing over his knuckles. He wasn’t touching you, really. “A Penny Lane jacket and flared jeans? Were you invited to some retro costume party I don’t know about, or something?”
You couldn’t discern if his pink cheeks were because of the harsh wind outside, or something else. “I think some old lady died, and I got her wardrobe at the thrift store.” Riding the high of his flattery, you crossed your ankles and spun on the soles of your chunky boots, sweeping your hands down your clothing. “An entire outfit for less than twenty bucks.”
“It looks good on you.” He said it in that lower register. Where his voice cracked in and out. Quiet. More akin to the guys who hit on you.
You thanked him by doing the silly thing of putting your hands in your pockets. Swaying side to side. Not awkward at all, and definitely not trying to hide your smile.
Clearly not in here to grab groceries, he tipped his head towards his van outside, and asked, “I’m making a trip outside city limits for the good fireworks. Wanna come with?”
“I’m sorry.” You wanted to go. Just to sit next to him. To steal more time with him. Listen to music, hang out, fill in the blanks phone conversations couldn’t do justice. Hear his voice in person again. Say things that earned his rolodex of smiles, or laughs. Find ways to garner more compliments, more affection. Yet, your body ached in a severe way you couldn’t ignore. “I’ve been driving since about 3 this morning, and I’m kinda tired. Is it okay if I take a nap and meet you later?”
He screwed his eyes shut and faltered. Shook his head, and scrunched his face in a pained expression, speaking as if he was the one in the wrong for asking in the first place, “Of course! Yeah. Yeah, you’ve been driving all night. You deserve to relax. I didn’t mean to just–Yeah. Anyway, when were you leaving? You here for a few days?” he ended in a hopeful lilt.
It sucked letting him down. “Sorry, I’ve gotta leave pretty early tomorrow. I have two assignments due the first Friday after break, and it’s competition season, so lots of meets now; pretty much every other weekend starting the second week of January.”
He moved further away. Absently reading the labels on the bags of chips while he sorted through whatever disappointment he harbored. Tapping his knuckle on an end cap for an aisle, staying in his thoughts. Using the cold metal to rein in his feelings about your short time together.
“I’m sorry, Eddie..”
“Don’t apologize,” he said. He donned a happy persona. “That just means we’ll have to make the most of tonight, right?”
“Right.” You hated his fake turn in attitude. It’s not like you wanted this shitty reality, either. The ones in your head were much more preferable. Much more romantic. “We’ll make some good memories to last us until next time.”
Usually, Eddie was easy to read. He shared his emotions openly. However, when he looked at you like he did now–skimming his gaze from your eyebrows to your nose, scoping out the kindness of your glossy lips–you had to wonder what he was thinking, and if he was observing you with curiosity, or something sweeter. Please be sweeter.
“We will,” he promised. “We’ll go out with a bang, sweetheart.”
In a phenomenal execution of decorum, you did not, indeed, choke on your spit at his word choice.
The receipt with Eddie’s handwriting on the back waved between your fingers. You drove away from the corner unit of the Motel 6 with your windows rolled down, enjoying the sunshine. It almost didn’t feel like winter with how it warmed up while you laid in bed, replaying the scene of your best friend tilting his head to check out your tight fitting jeans when you bent over to pick your grocery basket off the floor.
Someone should’ve told him the door to the drink cooler was quite reflective.
Still, you had to question why he would bother giving you Gareth’s address when he could’ve simply told you it was the nicer subdivision on the north side of town you both ransacked during Halloween. From there, it was painfully obvious which house he was talking about.
Low-tuned sludgy riffs of doom metal called out to you from the main road. It was just Lloyd on bass and Jeff on guitar playing together while Eddie had the back doors of his van open, helping Gareth slide out sheets of plywood and stack them in the dead grass.
You pulled into the driveway and Eddie waved at you to park behind him.
“There she is,” he announced over the music. Interestingly, he dropped the pet names around his friends, but Gareth gave you two a sneaky glance, regardless. “Running me low on daylight after begging me to fix her car.”
Mouth agape, you filled your lungs to the fullest with an absolute dissertation’s amount of rebuttal, but your fortitude vanished. The bane of your existence eclipsed the sun.
Eddie folded his arms atop your open window, leaning onto your car door, kicking his hip out, regarding you down his broad nose.
Music faded out one strum at a time. The guys crowded the back of the garage, hooking up extension cords to Eddie’s power tools, and carried them to the saw horses they had set up, keeping themselves busy and at a distance.
Eddie’s hair fell over his shoulders. He provoked you in a softer voice, “What’s my payment for doing this kind gesture for you, hmm?” The tendons in his neck flexed as he hummed.
The smallest muscle in his cheek twitched the longer you schooled your face from reacting. Giving him nothing to work with, leaving him to guess if he was being annoying in the wrong way. Making him sweat under the heat of his innuendo.
If only he knew you’d be on your knees the split second he gave the command.
But, you remained strong in the face of temptations, and opened the door, shoving him back a few steps. “Have I ever told you I hate you?”
“Once or twice,” he said after feigning to think about it.
“And to answer you..” You kicked the door closed behind you, and drew yourself to your full height as if you were in front of suited up judges. Chin high, shoulders back. Taller in your boots. Meeting his eye easily. An intimidating strength to your intense demeanor. “I’m here, aren’t I?” Both a gift and a favor. His gift. His favor. His girl.
Eddie snorted. “How could I forget? Your presence is my greatest treasure.”
You tipped your cheek to your shoulder as you considered him. “I’m your greatest treasure?” His brashness deflated upon hearing you repeat it back at him. Your eyes narrowed wickedly while his widened. “I seem to remember you saying you’d take care of me if I came back.”
For a blissful beat, memories of that first phone call passed over his unfocused gaze. You, too, unlocked a few repressed images you swore you wouldn’t release when he was standing right in front of you; fully clothed, and very handsome.
Then, Eddie stuttered something, but there was no telling what, because Jeff started up the whirring circular saw with a smile of pure innocence. “Oh, did I interrupt you guys? My bad.”
You threw him a sardonic smile, and addressed your flustered mechanic. “Shall we?”
It seemed Eddie struggled to move past your tongue-in-cheek proposition. Either that, or something else had his mind scrambled. “Uh, y-yeah,” he stammered, tripping over his own feet, making finger guns at his van where he left his tool bag. “We should. Y’know, daylight.” You agreed and tossed him your keys.
Unbeknownst to either of you, Lloyd exchanged knowing looks with Jeff and Gareth, who both shook their heads and rolled their eyes.
Some favor this turned out to be.
“How long has it been making that sound?” Eddie asked from the driver’s seat, aghast.
You shrugged at the exposed engine cranking and churning out a sound not unlike a dead man’s cough. “I dunno. Maybe a month? No.. Two, or three?”
“Babe,” he groaned to himself, thumping his head on the headrest. He ran his hands over the leather steering wheel, wringing the vibrations under his palms, listening to the racket. Stewing over his knee-jerk reaction to shake you until you promised to maintain your only means of transportation which brought you to him today. What if it broke down and you were stranded in some seedy city where someone could take advantage of you?
Working his jaw, he turned off the car and unfolded himself from your cramped seat.
Inside the back of his van, he collected a few replacements for parts he could tell were worn, and put them near the edge. “Have you changed the air filters lately?” You blinked up at him. He added new ones to the pile and hopped down.
“Do I want to know when was the last time you got an oil change?”
You crossed your arms and leaned your hip against the car, keen to the way he went into his zone, moving with skill over the motor in a predetermined method–an order to his operations. “You changed it for my mom the summer before I left, didn’t you?” He paused with the dipstick in his hand, brown eyes pinning you with glints of mortification, and disbelief. “Eddie, I’m kidding..” He wiped it on the dirty rag balled in his fist and his expression foretold the scolding you were about to get. “I got it changed like a year ago.” More angry staring. “Maybe it was two years ago,” you amended.
He added another task to his mental list. “You’re sending me to an early grave.”
Gareth began sawing pieces of 2x4s after Jeff measured them. The noise covered your private moment with Eddie.
Angling your head under the popped hood, you gut-punched him with a poignant truth he despised about himself. “Joke about an early grave all you want, I think you like doing this stuff for me because it makes you feel needed. Now that I’m away at college, you can’t just come over and fix a leak in my roof, or patch up a hole in the drywall, or pick me up from work when I’m too tired to drive.” Your gaze settled on his frown. “I appreciate you fixing my car, but I don’t want it to come across like that’s the only reason I’m here. You don’t need to do these things for me to come see you. I’m here because I like being with you. You��re my best friend, Eddie.”
You're my best friend, Eddie.
He invoked every fiber of self-restraint woven into his musculature to not look at you. “Do you have a hair tie?”
“Sure.” You took one from your wrist and handed it to him. Adding to your previous point, “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to feel needed–”
“What, did you smoke a joint and read your psychology textbook before coming here? Be a doll and hold this for me.” He slipped out of his jacket, and tossed it at you. From his periphery he watched you clutch it to your chest, and in that moment–when your fingers curled around the collar, and your arms embraced his armor like a hug–he decided enough was enough. Tonight was the night.
Crossing your legs at the ankle, you sat back against the car door. A fine vantage point for pretending you were observing the guy's build.. whatever it was they were building, while your eyes fell to Eddie more often than not. Noticing him gather his hair at his nape and wrap the hair tie around it several times, not pulling through on the last loop, thus allowing it to fan out from a bun in springy waves. The rest of his short layers sat over his ears, catching the wind when he whipped around to seize a car part from his stash. Probably salvaged from the junkyard you played in as kids; a place you owed many of your scars to.
The shirt he wore was for a local band in Indy. Their name strained over his full chest, white letters stretching and bunching as he employed his skilled hands over your motor. A remarkably snug fit on him. Tight. Formed to the curves of his body. Capped sleeves stopping at the apex of his shoulders. Sharp cut of his tricep contouring an elegant shadow from one tattoo to the next, black ink flexing as he cranked a wrench.
Loose strands of hair clung to the sheen on his neck.
Black leather baked in your arms under the setting sun, intensifying the cheap cologne he doused to disguise the layers of weed and cigarette smoke, accompanied by the same deodorant that was on his Hellfire shirt.
The peppered stubble on his jaw. His shaved mustache. Smudges of grease in the hollow of his cheek as he chewed on another complaint in your direction. Mouth twisted to the side in concentration, until his tongue involved itself, parting his lips.
His tongue was a dangerous thing to be jealous of, yet here you were, fawning over its ability to be intimate with his mouth, his lips. Oh yes, his lips. How many hours you wasted of your adult life being stuck in boring lectures delivered by droning professors while you were thinking about his lips framing your name in the warmest of manners.
Eddie was stunning. Dirty, and stunning. Sweaty from being the gentleman he was, giving you a hand in one of the areas of your life you neglected, and he was in dire need of someone to clean him off. Someone whose fingers were as kind as yours to treat the scope of his understated beauty.
Someone to bathe him after a long day.
Get him nice and clean.
Then dirty again.
His hips were pressed to the red metal of your car. Tight jeans showing each thrust he made as he yanked on something out of your view. Handcuff belt buckle clinking every so often. Shirt wrinkled over the pudge on his stomach, and you couldn’t fathom a better place to land a few kisses on your way down to his–
“You like watching me work?” he asked plainly, bent over the headlight closest to you, eyes affixed on his project.
You jerked as if you snapped awake from a dream, and asked the guys crowding around the saw horses, “Hey, whatcha makin’? Can I help?” Apparently, Gareth and Jeff were laboring over a quarterpipe, and Lloyd was making a wide ramp. Why he specified wide, you didn’t know, but it was the perfect excuse to get the hell away from Eddie.
It was too real being next to him in person, and you needed a break.
Your swanky Penny Lane coat proved too insulating on the unusually balmy winter afternoon, so you unclasped the ornate button and draped it over your car door, revealing your cherry red blouse and silk scarf tied around your neck.
As you placed Eddie’s jacket alongside yours, something fell out of his pocket. You picked up the white and red package and turned it over. Wrigley’s Spearmint. It was missing a few foil-wrapped sticks of gum. Thinking nothing of it, you put it back, and joined Lloyd.
“What should I do?”
“Did you just time travel from a Hendrix show?” Jeff asked, earning your middle finger.
Lloyd instructed you where to hold the boards he was cutting, and revved the jigsaw. Wood shavings rained in its wake.
A cacophony of buzzing drowned out further conversation. Saws, drills, and a stream of swears filled the lull of the drifting creeping sunset.
Gareth looked around him for the nail gun, and realized he left it in the van. He told Jeff to keep his weight on the curved plywood. “I’ll get it.” And what a poor sight he stumbled upon. He could almost feel his heartstrings tug for his friend’s transparent pining. Almost.
Gareth’s saunter took on a swagger as he approached Eddie, and clapped him on the shoulder, shocking him from his awestruck daze. “Might wanna pick your jaw off the floor.”
Eddie was quick to close his mouth, and go to work with his back facing you. So what if your scarf was cute. And your blouse hugged you in all the right places. And the color complemented you. And the space between the buttons gapped. And your bra was white. And he could admire your jeans without your coat blocking the view. He was allowed to appreciate these things on a platonic level. He was a respectable young man, after all.
Besides, he was well within his right to stare.. from beneath your car after jacking it up, laying on his back, sliding under the engine on a creeper board with a wrench in his hand to do.. something. He forgot.
How was he supposed to concentrate when he’d been deprived of touch for so long he found his chest tensing, and his throat closing, at the memory of his lips grazing your ear at the grocery store, and how if he kept his face there, your lips would’ve connected with his when you turned?
Daylight burned to dusk.
The quarterpipe sat in the middle of the road opposite the ramp. No one else seemed to care if cars could pass by, so you didn’t either.
Eddie dug his heels into the driveway and wheeled himself back and forth on the roller board, face turned to scrutinize what you were doing instead of minding his own business; and you’d know, because this was hardly the first time your gazes met, and you both looked away as if it never happened.
Though, an unexpected object entered your field of view, anyway.
“A shopping cart?” you questioned. Jeff nodded enthusiastically on his way to the quarterpipe, hauling it to the top. Surely they weren’t planning on..
Gareth’s eyes shone with teenage madness. “You wanna get the firecrackers? We need to christen the cart.”
“Sure..” you drawled. Silly you for assuming the overturned hunk of dented metal in the neighbor’s ditch was discarded trash and not some prized possession.
You stepped over a pair of black jean-clad legs on your way to the back of Eddie’s van, and opened the doors wider, peering inside. It was much messier than last time you were in it. Blown out speakers, guitar cases, and the aforementioned scrounged up parts to extend your car’s life occupied most of the space, along with loose papers and textbooks for school. Near you, there were boxes upon boxes of fireworks. Way more than you thought necessary, but he did say he wanted to end 1985 with a bang.
Pulling one closer to you, you found the red packs of fireworks strung together like a bandolier, and grabbed several belts worth.
And, of course, when you turned around, you gasped and backed into the rear bumper.
Fluttering your eyes closed, you stated in an even tone, “If you scare me one more time.”
“Maybe you should pay more attention to your surroundings.” Eddie wrung a dirty rag around his stained fingers, hip cocked out. He jerked his chin at your car. “Almost done. Not as good as new, but in a lot better condition than when you drove here.”
“Thank you. You seriously didn’t have to go and do all of this for me.”
The harsh light coming from Gareth’s garage divided Eddie’s face in halves. He held his hands up to inspect the grime under his fingernails, and answered, “I did it for me, so I can rest easy knowing you’re safe.” A shadow concealed his mouth, but you were certain he wasn’t smiling. The serious knot between his brows, and the bluntness in his visible eye pierced the uprising of nighttime splitting you into two sides of the same friendship. What you showed each other and what you kept hidden in the dark. “What if something happened and you got hurt?”
Your forearm was alive with the sensation of his warmth penetrating the chill on your skin. “I don’t live a safe life. I could fall and snap my neck at any moment on the uneven bars. A single missed catch and I’m gone.” As you spoke, you swayed closer, taunting the electricity to spark between you. His chest swelled with a breath. He smelled of spearmint. “If you want to keep me out of harm’s way, you’ll have to do better than fix my car.”
A single firework in the distance struck the saturated sky. Then more. More bangs, squeals, children shouting in awe around the subdivision.
Eddie didn’t say anything else, so you didn’t either.
Eddie didn’t make a move, so you didn’t either.
The delicate paper crinkled in your hands. “Do you have a lighter on you?”
Roused from his trance, he pointed at his jacket hanging over your door. “In my..” He trailed off, hand lowering as something registered to him. “Actually, I think I have some matches on my dash.”
It was a weird moment–the whole exchange, the awkward faltering–but you found the worn paper package on his dashboard, and joined the others, avoiding giving a side-long glance at Eddie, who involved himself in the finishing touches on your car.
The guys became more psyched up when you handed them the goodies. They tangled the fireworks around the handle of the shopping cart balanced precariously at the top of the quarterpipe, and Jeff propped his foot on one of the wheels, while Gareth climbed into the basket.
Jeff raised a single match and aligned it on the strike strip. “We hereby commence tonight’s festivities! Let the new year bring forth joy!” He looked at Gareth, then Lloyd. “Prosperity!” He spun to you, a certain glint of glee when his eyes landed on yours, then somewhere behind you. “And love,” he finished, lighting the match with flair.
It burned bright.
Flame to fuse, sparks flew.
Before even the first firecracker popped, the cart was wrangled, and Jeff was in motion. Shoving it over the edge, putting power behind his sprint as it sped down the slope. He let go. Gareth gripped the sides and whooped as he approached the wide ramp at max speed. It hit the incline, and together, they flew–at least, they gave the impression of flying right before they smacked the pavement. Bouncing, clanging, almost tipping nose-first, and recovering at the last second, skidding to a halt upright and uninjured.
The firecrackers burnt out their last bang, and fell to the road in dwindling flames.
Lloyd cruised alongside the chaos on his skateboard, and gave a hearty, “Hell yeah!” Gareth appeared a little shaken, but otherwise fine.
“Is the ramp okay?”
Relaxing from your wince, you peeped an eye open to confirm it did remain in one piece.
“Nice!” Jeff said, kicking the support beam you screwed into place. “It held up. The other one cracked on the first run.” Apparently that was a win in their books.
Gareth rode the back of the shopping cart to its wobbly stop in front of you. “Wanna take it for a spin?” He swung his arm over the reckless vehicle, and towards the safety hazards you helped facilitate.
The quarterpipe suddenly seemed towering. Much taller than when it was being constructed.
You placed your hands in your back pockets, and conjured an excuse while shifting from foot to foot. “Interestingly enough, as a NCAA athlete, I signed a contract stating I would not partake in irresponsible behavior. You know, the usual stuff to prevent an injury before Nationals. No ice skating, no shenanigans, no horsing around, and..” You tsked. “Definitely no tomfoolery.” You served him a cheeky grin, oblivious to the unamused stare Eddie was giving you after your little speech earlier.
“C’mon,” Gareth appealed in an equally charming twang. He stamped the end of his skateboard and caught it in his hand, spinning it around to where the grip tape faced you. “How about we start with this on solid ground? You don’t have to be scared. I’ll teach you.”
Pursing your lips, you stalled.
“Don’t let him peer pressure you,” Eddie warned from your driver’s seat, about to put the key in the ignition. “Think about your future. You can’t compete with a broken wrist.”
A searing flash of anger struck your nerves. Somehow, when it was Eddie worrying over you, it was so much more irritating than being called scared. Like hell you were scared, and like hell you were going to get hurt. It was riding a fucking skateboard, not jumping through a flaming hoop. And how hard could it be? Balancing was sort of your thing.
You raised your eyebrows at Gareth, and shrugged. “Sure, yeah, teach me.”
The annoyed sigh behind you encouraged you all the more.
Eddie could suck a fat one. You wanted to have fun.
Gareth led you to the street, and gave you a rundown on where to put your feet, talking you through the process of transferring your weight through your stance, and to trust him. Jeff was nearby giving feedback, as well, and Lloyd dropped in from the quarterpipe to skate circles around you. They reassured you that everyone shook like a newborn deer when stepping onto the board for the first time.
Although Gareth was grasping you around your forearms, he felt too far away when the board creaked. You didn’t expect it to lurch forwards and back from how you stood on it sideways. In a blink, you grappled for his shoulders, snatching fistfuls of his gray hoodie and the collar of his flannel vest into your vice grip, panicking.
He laughed. “You’re good, you’re good.” Moving to where he was cupping the undersides of your elbows, he waited for you to regain your balance, and said, “Don’t look at your feet, it’s throwing you off.” You lifted your gaze to his face. His eyes were kinder up close. “We’re just gonna.. Yeah, like that.” Like a waltz.
Guiding you at the snail’s pace you were comfortable at, you discovered every ridge of every bump of every pebble stuck in every crack in the asphalt beneath the wheels. He eased you in a straight line. The pins on his flannel reflected the burst of bottle rockets being set off in the cul-de-sac.
Your concentration was dedicated to staying standing, but you were aware of the sound of your engine dying down, and a set of watchful eyes on the back of your head.
“Put your weight on your back foot. It’ll lift the front of the board, so you can steer yourself in a circle.” You listened, and did as he said, bringing the nose up in quick pops. It wasn’t quite a circle, but the guys were stoked for your progress.
“I’m doing it!” you said, conquering your fear with another tap, tap, tap of a circle. You didn’t have the hang of balancing in your shoulders yet, rather than your hips, but it was something. Tap, tap, tap. Braver. Bigger movements. Faster. He spun you faster. More weight on your back foot. Another circle. More weight. And then, pain.
“I’ll get it,” Jeff mumbled, running off in some direction.
“Hey, we got the first fall out of the way. Not so bad, right?”
You got too daring, it seemed, judging by Gareth’s surprised face hovering above yours, on account of you bringing him down with you.
You let go of him with an apology, but he kept his hold on you to make sure your head didn’t hit the pavement. He was about to ask if you were okay, and you were about to say your right ass cheek stung, however, an aura of told-you-so forced him to exit your immediate vicinity.
“Nope, we’re done with that,” Eddie enunciated through his teeth. He stuck his hand out with the intent to help you up, and you mirrored him. Yet. He hesitated. Imperceivable to his friends who won his affection easily, but to you, it was the longest split second decision you had the agony of enduring. Your hand was there. Right there, and he rejected it. He aimed for your wrist instead, clasping his washed fingers around your polyester sleeve, and he was wearing his jacket now. Even if you wanted to touch him, you couldn’t. He ensured you couldn’t. No contact. Ever.
It was starting to get old.
You accepted his offer, and voiced your exasperation, “Eddie, I fell like, two feet. I’m fine.”
“Fine? What if you twisted your ankle?”
Determined to keep him tethered to you, you locked his wrist into your hand’s dominant embrace, and stepped to him, speaking right above a tame whisper, “But I didn’t.”
“And what if you landed on your knee?” he asked, matching your low tone. He drew you closer. Not enough to be witnessed, but you were consumed by the discreet pressure of his frustration on your pulse. Thrilled by it, even.
“Ease up, man. Your girl survived the Great Skateboard Crash of 1985 without so much as a scratch.”
“I’m not his girl.”
“She’s not my girl,” Eddie reiterated at the expense of Jeff’s shit eating grin, refusing to break your eye contact. “She’s the thorn in my side.” He initiated letting go of you all too soon. This time, you were the one to pursue him.
Taking him by the upper arms, you sank your nails into his leather barrier, and teased your bottom lip into an exaggerated pout. “I think Eddie forgot how to have fun. Remember, Munson, we used to build ramps out of tossed construction materials propped onto deflated tires we found around the trailer park? How many times did we crash our bikes and almost knock our teeth out? By those standards, this is totally OSHA compliant. Live a little.”
“Yeah, Eddie, live a little,” Gareth snarked.
“He’s only this protective over you,” Lloyd observed with a note of mock hurt. “He doesn’t care if we get hurt.”
“Bullshit,” Eddie dismissed, fighting a smile. “I care if you can’t make it to Hellfire.” Earning a round of laughter, stress ebbed from his posture. His grumpiness melted under your firm palms pleading for him to relax.
With a voice overflowing with reluctance, he asked, ”You want a ride in the cart?” You nodded. “Get in.”
Besides being the one at the helm of your fate, Eddie had a few conditions: arms and legs must remain inside the vehicle at all times, no ramp, wear your coat, no ramp, don’t aim the Roman candle at his handsome face, and–most importantly–no ramp. And there you were, sitting in the basket of the shopping cart atop the quarterpipe’s platform, shoulders against the handlebar that Eddie gripped with white knuckles, twisting your head to smile up at him.
“Don’t look so pleased with yourself,” he said.
You smiled bigger.
Eddie took a match from Jeff, and lit the top of the tube in your hand. “Any last words?”
“Just one,” you said, waving your middle finger.
Ever gentle, he shook the cart, scaring you into facing forward as he approached the edge. The fire spouting from your firework grew in fierceness. Blindingly bright, and hot as it crept down the tube. Eddie asked if you were ready, and the first ball shot out like a flare gun, hitting a tree branch in its path, before landing on a roof and fizzling out.
You’re convinced he didn’t wait for you to answer.
The front wheels crested the top of the quarterpipe. Completely vertical, your insides performed a somersault as the hard, unforgiving street below stretched on for eons; and then, it was gone. Replaced by the ache of your body being slammed against metal. A disorienting jumble of the firework’s floom as it went off beside your head, and Eddie’s cackling laugh reverberating between your ears.
You sailed past where the ramp used to be. Eddie was the captain of your ship. Running and hopping onto the back of the shopping cart. His hands gripped your shoulders, not the handle. His thumbs were everything you needed, prodding deep into your muscles. Fingertips perched on your collar bone. Exploring further down as the blur of houses came to a reasonable scroll when the fun slowed to a crawl.
He wasn’t as close as he was in the grocery store, but you whipped your head around in hopes of catching a close look at his lips. It was worth it for his half-lidded eyes alone.
The last firework went off, illuminating his face in a lovely shade of red.
You said, “Let’s do it again.”
He said, “Absolutely not.”
The rest of the evening was much different from its rocky start.
Everyone was buzzing like bees. Playing music at random intervals, wrestling in the front yard, showing off their skate tricks. Demanding you do another backflip off the ramp, even though you did several already. Challenging you to arm wrestling matches on the hood of your car. Totally normal occurrences.
You clicked your tongue in a pitying gesture at Jeff. “Lost again.” He forked up another dollar by throwing it at you, muttering about how you must’ve cheated.
Later, minutes to midnight, it was almost as if they coordinated jamming together in the garage, only to make excuses to leave, right when you walked inside to tell them the rest of the fireworks were out of Eddie’s van.
“We’re gonna set those up!”
“Yeah, three heads are better than one.”
“Six hands are better than two!”
You had to wonder if they were always this ridiculous as they left you alone with Eddie in the most obvious way possible.
“Did you like that one?” he asked about the last song. His face was hidden behind the curtain of his hair, looking down at his guitar as he practiced a thrashy transition.
“Loved it.” And it was the whole truth spoken from the depths of your subconscious, where the sparks of old feelings resided, watching his mouth from afar, pressing his lips to the microphone as he spouted rather poetic lyrics about his brain being cracked open and spiders crawling out.
A smirk stretched his face. “Really?” He re-tuned the bottom strings of his guitar and turned a knob on his amp. “I figured you were more of this type.” Plucking a simple chord, he scrunched his nose, and oscillated the whammy bar while grooving on one of his pedals, acting like he was super into the psychedelic vibrato it created. “Something like that for, roughly, twenty-eight minutes while everyone is tripping on acid.”
“Ha-ha,” you deadpanned. He was annoying, but back to normal. Chewing on another stick of gum, covered in dirt from pinning Jeff in the front yard earlier. Blades of dead grass tangled in his curls. And you immersed yourself in your role as well, dwelling over the psychical pain of not being able to explore the intimacy of removing them. To become familiar with the feel of his scalp beneath your fingers. To understand the proximity of his face near yours without aversion. To know the taste of his minty gum on your tongue..
Something dawned on you.
Chewing gum since this afternoon.
His prickliness when you crossed him.
He hadn’t smoked today.
He was chewing gum to curb his compulsion for a cigarette. No drinking, or other drugs, either. He cared to have minty breath. He wanted to be sober. He cared to have minty breath, and he wanted to be sober for midnight.
Maybe you were spiraling into territory you shouldn’t, but the implication was too tangible to argue against.
A midnight kiss.
It was impossible to keep the softness out of your tone, and the delicate flutter from tainting your words, but you held fast, “Wanna watch the fireworks together?”
He read his watch. “Yeah, it’s almost time.”
The stairs leading to Gareth’s front door were cozy. It was impossible to share them with another person without touching. You were surprised Eddie agreed to sit with you, molded to one another from hip, to the length of your thighs, pressed together in foreign inseparability. Hands, arms, and elbows were curled in tight, but your shoulders bumped on occasion. The guys had their backs to you, giving you privacy, while they tied the final fuses of illegally purchased fireworks together, running low on matches.
Now, the inky black night was constantly alight with an assortment of colors in a range of patterns.
The neighborhood was alive with a countdown.
Your heart was in your throat. Pounding beats in your temples. It was coming.
Three matches were struck and shared. The guys danced around the pile in the street, shouting and giggling, and retreating to the end of the driveway, away from danger. But not far enough to witness Eddie running his sweaty palms over his jeans.
You couldn’t discern the numbers being counted. Your senses dulled. Tunnel vision for the man beside you. Everything else faded away.
“One!” someone shouted over the dozens of screeching fireworks being set off at once.
Eddie didn’t make a move.
But you did.
Leaning over the appropriate amount necessary to be heard, you spoke into his ear, smitten by the fortuitous tickle of his hair brushing over your nose, “Looks like it’s officially your year.”
You must’ve taken him off-guard.
Initially, he jumped. Or shivered, you didn’t know. But when he turned to look at you, he slowed at the introduction of your cheeks sliding along one another as he drew away. Separating once the corner of your lips were at risk of converging. His stubble was scratchy. Your skin was soft. Who knew.
His gaze bounced around your candid expression. Memorizing your raw innocence at the newness of the sensation, like you memorized his. “Yeah, I’ll finally graduate,” he agreed. His exhale landed on your lips. A caress. Your body longed for more. Then, with absolute confidence, he declared, “After that, I’m gonna follow you everywhere.”
You urged your attention away from his lips, to his shy, brown eyes seeking yours, resisting the impulse to look away.
He displayed his hope in the timid dimple emerging in his cheek. “I don’t think college is in my future, but I’m good at other things. Fixing cars, working with my hands, charming bar owners into giving me a gig. I..” His tongue paused on the tip of his teeth. Vulnerability whelmed him; mouth falling open and closed as he found an ounce of bravery. “Olympics.. The circus, whatever.. Wherever you go, I’ll follow. So we never have to be alone again. We’ll have each other. Be together..” His shaky whisper went faint as his nerves stole his voice. “You need a best friend to take care of you. To keep you safe. I’ll keep you safe.. Forever.”
He used the dreaded label–best friends–but this time.. It didn’t bother you.
He promised you forever.
Rendered speechless, you uttered the first thing that came to mind, expecting him to go along with the joke, as if he wasn’t serious. “The circus is a lot more dangerous than falling off a skateboard. I could get hurt.”
“Not if I’m there to catch you.”
Your chest caved under the impact of the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to you. Fireworks burst in your stunned silence. Vision blurring with unadulterated happiness, managing a single, gravelly, “Okay,” amongst the content, and relieved, laugh you two shared, unsure of what this confession meant to either of you.
Jeff rapidly tapped the back of his hand on Lloyd’s chest. “I’m not wearing my glasses. Did they kiss?” he asked, excited.
Sighing, Lloyd let him down. “No.. But they do look happy.”
Gareth rolled his eyes. “How can they both be so stupid?”
Eddie knew he forfeited another chance at kissing you when he stopped leaning into your car, and wished you a safe drive, accepting the fact he wouldn’t see you again before you left. Your precious lips were right there, grinning at him with undue tenderness, eyes shining with an emotion he couldn’t place, but he couldn’t bring himself to risk it. Your futures were entwined now. He’d see you soon. Hopefully it wouldn’t take over three months for you to visit again, but he didn’t mind. It just meant more time for him to summon up the courage to almost, vaguely, in a roundabout way, with the caveat of being friends-only, sort of admit his feelings for you.
Still, he was proud of himself.
He wore his smile all the way home, putting a little pep in his step as he rushed up the stairs, and threw open the door to his trailer, scrambling for the pack of cigarettes and lighter he left on the kitchen counter.
Lord, he smoked through the first one in some kind of nicotine-induced euphoria.
He was in paradise. “Not if I’m there to catch you,” he mumbled to himself on his way to his room, swinging his arms, wholly intoxicated by his own charisma. “God, I’m corny.”
Tossing the carton of Camels on his nightstand, he went to put the lighter in his jacket pocket, and encountered what felt like wadded up papers stuffed inside. Pulling his hand out, he uncurled his fingers, and stared.
More hundred dollar bills than he’d ever had the pleasure of holding at once. A few twenties, too. Blood rushed to his cheeks. This was supposed to be a favor, and you snuck behind his back to pay him as if he were a real mechanic.. But that wasn’t the only thing that had his heart racing.
He flipped the accompanying Polaroid over.
The beach photo you promised. New Jersey 1985 written in the blank space at the bottom. More importantly, you in a bikini. Posed coyly with one arm crossed beneath your tits to create a gorgeous amount of cleavage, while staring into the camera with enough of a smirk to know what you were doing, while still being able to deny it.
After a beat, Eddie tipped his head and surrendered. He began unfastening his belt. “Great way to end the night, sweetheart.”
Taglist: @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @myfavoritesareproblematic @henhouse-horrors @tlclick73 @sidthedollface2 @i-will-duckyou-up @qnsfwthoughts @captainonaboat @eddiemuns0nl0ver @godcreatoreli @harrys-tittie @eg-dr3amer3 @trixyvix88 @venomsvl @lacrymosa-24 @sashaphantomhive @sharp-and-swift @emokid-ellie @mantorokk-writes @drdvlss @mirrorsstuff @bebe0701 @eddiethesexy @edsforehead @b-irock @brittney69 @princesseddie @hes-a-rainbow @churchmuffins
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟒
▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑
▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔
▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 ▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖 ▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗
▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐
Thank you so much for all the support on this series so far and your patience; all the lovely comments and reblogs and asks are making my days and I’m so happy about every single one of them🖤 I hope you enjoy this chapter! - Love, Kiki 🖤
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Eddie Munson x female reader
𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | THEN. You’re the only survivor among the Mind Flayer’s victims, thanks to your friends - but after the Battle of Starcourt, you find yourself adrift in a sea of nightmares. Until an encounter in the woods with Eddie The Freak Munson offers an unexpected life line and turns your world upside down.
NOW. Four months have passed since the winter night you walked out of Eddie’s trailer and his life for good. But when the mysterious headaches and nightmares return full-force and something wicked stirs in sleepy Hawkins, starting a witch hunt against Eddie, you realize that there are two things in this world that might be more persistent than you’d thought: Evil…and love.
The story is told in two timelines: the past (after the Battle of Starcourt) and the present (during the events of season 4).
𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 | angst with a happy ending (I PROMISE!!!), fluff, smut, it turned into a fix it fic for ST4
𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (you need to be 18+ to read this story!), angst with a happy ending, attempted assault, bullying, canon-typical violence
𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | ~1 hour
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | mentions of attempted assault, canon-typical gore & violence, blood
𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.
𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 & 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡
▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑
▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔
▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 ▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖 ▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗
▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐
[Wednesday, March 27th, 1986.
Life’s not a game of D&D.
That’s what Wayne Munson used to tell Eddie. He’d said it when the cops had escorted a distraught sixteen-years-old Eddie back home because they’d caught him drinking a beer. He’d said it again when he’d picked up Eddie at the police station two years later because Andy Warren had snitched on Eddie’s drug dealing, and he’d said it when, a few weeks later, a letter from school had informed him that Eddie wouldn’t graduate. And the year after that, when a similar letter had found its way to the Munson trailer.
Wayne had never been one to get angry at Eddie, though.
He’d shouted at him once, when Eddie had still been a kid and he’d accidentally smashed the pane of the kitchen window with a baseball bat – but the way Eddie had flinched and shied away in response had stuck with Wayne Munson, and he’d never again raised his voice at his nephew.
It was the disappointment which stung, probably more than the words warning him not to veer off the right path even though Wayne knew, with all his heart, that Eddie would never wind up like the older Munson brother had.
It were those words, though, that came to Eddie’s mind now.
They were true.
While, as in life, D&D was an intricate pattern of choices following each other, tipping into each other like domino stones, the throw of the dice guided by the hands of luck determining the outcome as much as the player’s choice…some choices were a gamble.
You rolled the dice and hoped for the best, hoped luck would make you stronger than the monsters.
Sometimes you were lucky and landed a Crit Hit, a natural twenty defeating evil.
Sometimes, you weren’t, and the dice sealed your fate.
But Wayne had been right when it came to one crucial point.
When you died at the gaming table, there would be other games, other campaigns.
In life, there was only one campaign.
And no way to get back in once the dice had kicked you out.
[FIFTY MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT.]
Don’t try to be cute, okay? Don’t try to be heroes.
Steve’s words still rang in your mind as you watched the three figures walking away from the Forest Hills trailer park, past the Welcome sign at the side of the road that didn’t look welcoming at all covered by tar-black creepers, your friends’ backpacks stacked with makeshift-weapons.
Nancy’s curly head, Steve’s broad shoulders, and Robin, fiddling nervously with the straps of her backpack.
The plan was a simple one.
You’d split into three teams.
Team Creel House in the Rightside Up with Max as Vecna’s bait, accompanied by Erica and Lucas.
Team Demobats with Eddie, Dustin and you, waiting for the signal to lure the swarm of bats away from Vecna’s lair in the Upside Down version of Creel House and towards Eddie’s trailer to clear the path for team number three – Team Crit Hit, with Nancy, Robin and Steve, armed to the teeth and ready to land the killing blow as soon as the bats were gone and Vecna was defenseless in the trance of his making.
A perfect row of dominos, waiting for the first one to be tipped.
Something felt…weird. Off.
As if you all should have been greeted by an army of monsters upon entering the Upside Down again.
But the Upside Down was calm and still, like the surface of a lake in a tranquil night.
In the distance, your friends had reached the tree line of the woods separating the trailer park from the rest of Hawkins, leading right up to the little hill and Creel House like the crown on top of it.
And with every step they took, increasing the distance, every second that passed…that sense of doom descended upon you, nestled in your guts.
As if something horrible was going to happen.
In your mind, the branches of the naked trees in the woods were turning into skeletal hands, reaching out for your friends.
In a matter of minutes, everything in this place would try to kill them. Kill all of you.
But above all else…it would try to kill Eddie.
Eddie, your songbird, who would soon be on the roof of that trailer to draw in hundreds, thousands of the very bats which had devoured him in your nightmares sweat-soaked night after sweat-soaked night for the past four months.
Nightmares…or something else. Something way more horrible than a nightmare.
Because nightmares, no matter how cruel, ended at some point. You woke up, and the horror was over.
But what if they had never been nightmares or threats at all, but…visons? Glimpses not of what Vecna wanted to do to Eddie or what you feared most, but at the future itself?
Voices floated over to where you standing at the side of the trailer, and your fist tightened around the can of gasoline you’d been holding, its contents emptied on the dead grass in a ring around the Munson trailer, ready to be set aflame once the bats had arrived to keep them trapped and diverted.
“…looks so cool.”
“As if she was destined for another dimension.”
Eddie’s voice pierced the gloom and fear in your heart as you turned to where Dustin and Eddie were sitting on the steps leading up to the Munson trailer.
Eddie was holding his Warlock guitar in his lap, the deep, dark red of the instrument a splotch of color amidst the obscure half-dark of the Upside Down.
“You think you can teach me when we’re out of here? To play guitar?” You could practically feel Dustin vibrate with his excitement, and Eddie’s surprised smile in reply as he scanned Dustin’s face.
“Uh, yeah. Sure. I still got my first guitar. It was an acoustic one. It’ll do for a start.”
“Wait, you’re not gonna teach me with that one?”, Dustin inquired with a nod at the Warlock guitar.
There was a beat of silence as Eddie gave Dustin a playfully shocked once-over. “Hell, no. You gotta start slow. Like when you learn to ride a bike. You’re gonna start with the old acoustic guitar. It’s your metaphorical training wheels. Gotta earn this beautiful sweetheart here.”
You smiled as Eddie gently patted the polished surface of the instrument in his lap, before his gaze flitted to Dustin, who was fiddling with the sleeves of his hoodie. It was obvious, even from the distance, how anxious the boy was.
“You know,” Eddie began slowly, a small smile curving his lips, “I could show a few chords, though.”
“Right now?” Dustin’s head snapped up.
“No time like the present,” Eddie shrugged, “They didn’t even RT to tell us they’re in position yet so, uh, guess we gotta pass the time some way.”
Hadn’t you known Eddie so well, you might have fallen for his lighthearted, decidedly bored tone.
But you knew him better than you knew the pages of your favorite book, better than your own heart.
And you could tell he was scared – trying hard to play it cool for Dustin’s sake, probably fighting the overpowering urge to pace around like a trapped beast.
You could see the tremor shaking Eddie’s hand when he patted the spot on the concrete step below, gesturing for Dustin to sit between his legs so he could show the boy how to hold the guitar, and your heart was overflowing with affection at the gesture.
Eddie had always taken care of others. Had given them a safe place in Hellfire when they’d been lost in the shark tank that was Hawkins High, a place where they wouldn’t be judged or scorned upon.
You didn’t know much about Eddie’s past, but you knew enough to fill in some blanks. To know that, when Eddie could have become cold and uncaring and mean just like the world treated him…he had chosen kindness. He had chosen to remain gentle instead of letting the vile words and the bullying he’d had to endure harden his heart, and he’d chosen to look after others when it would have been so much easier to just take care of himself.
You wished you could tell Eddie, who kept insisting he wasn’t a hero and would never be, how much of a hero he already was, for being himself in a world that tried to change him – and for giving others a place and the courage to be themselves as well. Hell, he’d done the very same thing for you, without you even noticing it, you realized now.
It was so easy, to let your guards down around Eddie, to be yourself. As easy as breathing. As easy as loving him.
You stayed in your spot around the trailer’s corner, not wanting to interrupt the moment between the two, and your heart swelled even more, like the sea come high tide, at the happy little smile on Dustin’s face as he sat on the step between Eddie’s legs.
Eddie would have been the most amazing big brother.
“Whoa, careful, man,” Eddie cautioned as Dustin’s arms shot up to make room for the guitar, and with the same gentleness as if it were a wounded little bird, Eddie slowly placed the guitar in Dustin’s lap.
“’Kay, you put it on your thigh, and then your left hand goes here –“ he explained as he took Dustin’s hand to place it on the guitar neck, “And the other goes here. There.”
There was a distorted clang of the guitar’s strings being pulled and a strangled sound ripping from Eddie that sounded as if he’d stepped on Lego while walking barefoot, and you pressed your hand in front of your mouth to catch the giggle threatening to spill and give you away as Eddie exclaimed, “Jesus Christ, Henderson, careful.”
“Sorry! Sorry. What now?”
“We start with a few simple chords. Gimme a sec.”
“Old Macdonald Had A Farm?”, Dustin proposed, giving Eddie a look over his shoulder, and even from your spot half-hidden behind the corner, you could sense the offended glance Eddie was giving Dustin.
“If you’re ever gonna propose to play Old Macdonald Had A Farm on my sweetheart,” Eddie retorted, “You gotta e-i-e-i-o yourself to another D&D club ‘cause you’ll be banished from Hellfire’s game table for the rest of your life. Goddamnit.”
Dustin giggled, before Eddie reached out to place his hands over Dustin’s still hovering over the guitar’s strings, guiding the boy’s fingers apart before placing them over the strings on the guitar neck.
“We’re gonna start with the first riff of You’ve Got Another Thing Comin, that’s an easy one. ’Kay, like that – that’s an F – and then with your right hand, you do this –“, he steered Dustin’s other hand over the strings, the first note floating into the air, “And then you switch the left one here, to B –“
A second note, and then a third one, joined the white spores floating through the air, the guitar’s soft sounds obscured and dulled by the weird atmosphere of the place, and for a few moments, you listened to Eddie’s voice, giving instructions and explaining the notes, accompanied by the soft tinkling sounds of the guitar, slowly, the same seven notes repeating before Eddie announced, “Yeah, that’s good. There, try on your own.”
“’course. Who’s gonna judge you, the monsters?”, Eddie snickered, but it didn’t sound mocking at all.
There was a pause before the first note warbled into the air, then the next, slow and stumbling but definitely a melody, and when the final note of the little riff floated into the air, Dustin threw Eddie a questioning, proud little grin over his shoulder.
“Dude,” Eddie grinned, giving Dustin’s head a gentle shove, “That was good!”
“I think I could learn it.”
“Sure. We’re gonna make a guitarist out of you in no time.”
“Suzie’s going to love it,” Dustin grinned, before the smile slipped a little. “Steve says girls love guys who can play instruments.”
Eddie gave Dustin a dubious glance as he took the guitar back into his own hands, fingers working to tune the instrument a final time for the big moment as his eyes narrowed.
“Are you tryna learn to play the guitar to impress a girl or because you want to learn it?”
Dustin hesitated. “Both? I mean…it doesn’t hurt, right?”
You waited for Eddie to muster one of his usual witty retorts, anything…but he didn’t.
There was a beat of silence. When Eddie spoke up again, his voice had lost its playfulness, his tone gentle but stern. “You shouldn’t do things to impress others. Ever.”
“It’s just a tiny little thing,” Dustin protested, but Eddie’s hand gently game to rest on the boy’s shoulder, the silver rings glinting in the half-light, and Dustin fell silent again.
“It’s not. It’s not just a tiny little thing, you hear me? The way you dress, the things you like, the way you’re passionate about the things you enjoy, those aren’t little things. The sum of those things makes you you. And you should be proud of them, of who you are. If you actually wanna learn to play the guitar, because you think it will be fun, I’m gonna teach you. Right away. Tomorrow, if you’re up for it,” Eddie chuckled. “But I need you to promise me something, ‘kay?”
With Eddie’s head turned to face Dustin, you could only see the back of his head, his mane of dark curls spilling from the bandana almost ink-black in the dim light of the Upside Down. But you didn’t need to see his face to know his expression was stern. There was something strange in Eddie’s voice as he gently settled a hand on Dustin’s shoulder.
As if he urged the boy to listen.
As if it was the last chance to tell him.
Dustin seemed to sense it, too. His smile slipped, his expression growing serious.
“Never change, Dustin Henderson. Not for anyone. Not ever. Promise me?”
The words were like a punch to your gut.
They sounded like goodbye.
“I…yeah,” Dustin uttered, surprised, but you didn’t get to hear the rest of the conversation.
You spun around, your hand pressed in front of your mouth to suppress the sob already lodged at the back of your throat, the blood roaring in your ears –
The crackle of static pierced the air, followed by Nancy’s urgent voice through Dustin’s walkie.
“They’re in position. You can start diverting the bats.”
“Alright,” Eddie replied, rising to his feet alongside Dustin, who was already in the process of shutting off the walkie again, and Eddie’s gaze met yours as you took a step around the corner.
Only then did you realize you were still holding the empty canister in your grip, fist tightened around the metal handle hard enough to make your knuckles go numb.
“Gimme a sec,” Eddie murmured as Dustin already started to climb the ladder to the roof, and you watched him break into a little sprint towards you.
“You ready for the most metal concert in the history of the world, monster slayer? Might dedicate it to you if you cheer loud enough for m-“ He cut himself off as he reached you, the grin slipping from his face as he took in your expression.
“What’s wrong?”, he asked gently, prying the empty canister from your hand to lace your fingers with his own.
“You were saying goodbye,” you whispered, choked already by the stupid tears that wouldn’t stop flowing. “Why are you saying goodbye?”
“No, no, no, I didn’t. I just…I dunno, I wanted Henderson to know. That’s all. It was the right moment.”
“You feel it, too,” you breathed. “You can feel that something will happen.”
“Shit, I’m scared out of my mind. But I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always come back to you, no matter what, remember?”, Eddie inquired softly, raising his free hand, the one with your green silk ribbon tied around his wrist. “You said it always found its way back to you. So will I, sweetheart. Always and forever, ‘kay? Just like you’ll always find your way back to me.”
With the softest smile, he tapped his index finger against his guitar pick dangling around your neck, before he tucked it underneath the collar of your Hellfire shirt for safekeeping.
And with his eyes on yours, he drew the zipper of your own combat vest closed a little higher.
“It’s gonna be metal. And in two months, when we graduated and we’re skinny dipping in the ocean on some Californian beach by night, we’re gonna laugh about it.”
Eddie’s hands snaked up to cup your cheeks while he leaned in, his lips capturing yours for a kiss, searing and passionate and desperate.
So very desperate, his lips moving against yours while he pressed closer, chest to chest, racing heartbeat against racing heartbeat, plunging you into sweet oblivion for a few blissful seconds as your eyes fluttered closed and your senses zoned in on the movement of Eddie’s soft lips on yours, his scent, memorizing the moment.
And once more, you wished you could freeze time right now. Freeze this moment and place it in the glittering world of a snow globe behind thick, polished glass. Keeping it safe.
You memorized it, the way it felt like whenever Eddie kissed you, like sparks and glitter and sunlight rushing through your veins. The way his breath hitched when you reciprocated the kiss, as if he were still surprised by the fact that you were kissing him back. The way his hands were warm on the sides of your face, the way his thumb grazed your racing pulse before he gently angled your head to deepen the kiss, your own fingertips brushing over the fabric of the bandana tied around his head before tangling in the soft curls at the nape of his neck to pull him closer.
The way he tasted, of Yoo-Hoo and the faintest trace of cigarettes, of himself.
It was over too soon.
Tears pricked your eyes as Eddie untangled himself from you, his umber eyes shimmering with his own panic as they found yours, holding your gaze as he gently placed a kiss on your knuckles.
“I love you. See you in a few, monster slayer,” Eddie smiled.
I love you, too, you wanted to tell him, but the words were stuck in your throat, suffocated by the tears which threatened to spill from you.
Eddie turned to race away, towards the ladder resting against the side of the Munson trailer, the strings of his guitar strapped to his back caught the dim light of the lonely street lamp flickering a few feet away, shedding its pale beam across the space.
Don’t let this have been the last kiss, you silently begged, raising your head towards the skies to combat the tears of panic, a plea at the stars, just like you’d done that November night after you’d broken his heart.
For the briefest of moments, your mind flitted back to that night in November, when you’d been with him on this very roof. When the skies above hadn’t been an endless void, but a glittering sea of stars. When you’d first seen the door with its stained-glass roses – and the Mind Flayer’s spidery silhouette looming right above Eddie. Watching him.
Vecna watching him, finding your weak spot, the one thing in the world which’s loss would thoroughly destroy you.
It was that night, you realized, that Vecna had picked him.
Keep him save.
But there were no stars in the skies arching over the Upside Down.
But something else stirred awake at your unspoken plea.
Not something in the frozen world around you…but something from within your own chest, your own soul, the darkness which had been nestling there ever since Starcourt – the part of Vecna’s powers you’d stolen – like a sleepy cat raising its head, yellow eyes blinking open to see who’d roused it from its slumber.
And just like at the clearing, with Eddie’s gentle voice guiding you towards that sliver of darkness within your heart, your eyes fluttered closed.
This time, though, for the first time…there was no fear or repulsion when you thought about the darkness.
Something had changed, a few hours ago.
A knife in itself isn’t a bad thing. It can’t be good or bad, it’s just a weapon. It’s a matter of who wields it and for what cause that determines a weapon’s purpose. In those three times these powers have been activated, it has been to protect. Not once did they flare to life to attack.
Eddie’s words were still present in your mind, the truth you hadn’t seen those past few months because fear and panic had been clouding your mind.
All those months, it had been Vecna who’d sent the headaches and nosebleeds, the hallucinations and nightmares that had haunted you like a horde of demons – not darkness you’d ripped from him.
You could feel it react to your thoughts, something alive and conscious yet bound to you, part of you. It laced around your mind like tendrils of black mist, weaving around your thoughts like a cat weaving around its owner’s legs in greeting.
Like a companion.
The realization crossed your mind like the sudden flash of a shooting star cutting through the darkness of your panic.
It wanted to save Eddie, because you wanted to save Eddie.
It loved Eddie, because you loved Eddie.
And all of a sudden…you didn’t feel so alone anymore in your endeavor to protect him.
To your own surprise, you could feel a tentative smile tuck at your lips.
The high-pitched noise of the amplifiers positioned on the Munson trailer’s roof as Eddie connected them to his guitar tore you from your thoughts, and you craned your neck to get a glimpse at him as the first few notes of the guitar riff pierced the eerie silence of the Upside Down.
Eddie had believed they could do it.
That it was possible, to break the curse, set the girl he loved free from her demons and end the horrors haunting Hawkins.
That he could take you to prom, to the beach, whisk you away from small-minded little Hawkins.
But then everything had gone so horribly wrong.
Like a row of dominos collapsing on each other.
And once the first domino had toppled over…there was no way to stop the rest from falling, too, one after the other.
He’d bought you more time – in exchange for all of his own. That’s why people called it buying time, after all. It came with a price.
It was the words within the pages of his favorite story of all that came to his mind, in the end.
I would rather spend one lifetime with you than face all the ages of the world alone.
He was only sorry that this one lifetime had been such a brutally short one.
[THIRTY MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT.]
The song Eddie had chosen wasn’t soft and slow like the metal songs he’d turned into ballads when he’d played for you Saturday after Saturday to ward off your nightmares while you’d slept in his bed.
It wasn’t an unspoken confession of love he drew from the strings of his guitar right now – it was a declaration of war.
It was a battle cry.
You’d always known Eddie Munson was a force of nature when it came to the things he loved. It had always drawn you in, his unwavering, infectious joy and passion – for D&D, for music and playing the guitar, for metal and art and stories.
But as you watched him now, you realized that Eddie was made for this.
The rooftop of his trailer became his stage, his spotlight the crimson bolts of lightning slashing across the fabric of the starless skies above, illuminating his pale features, making the metal on his hands and his wrists glint.
With a euphoric smile on his lips, he threw his head back, wild dark curls flying around his handsome face and skilled fingers dancing over the strings of his guitar as he let himself get carried away by the music.
You could easily imagine him playing for a crowd of thousands.
He looked beautiful.
Like a god of war having arrived to wage his wrath upon the human-turned-monster reigning over this dark mirror realm – and win.
When he began to sing, his dark voice beautifully raspy as it laced with the guitar’s tunes in the cold air, it felt like it was thrumming right along your veins.
“End of passion play, crumbling away
I’m your source of self-destruction.”
You could feel the rage against Vecna in every word, every note; the desire to hunt and kill and hurt this monstrous being which had hurt Eddie – and Max, and you, and all the other victims, destroying life after life, silencing heartbeat after heartbeat. Breaking bone after bone.
Not Eddie’s rage, but your own, you realized, his song pulsing alongside your own heartbeat.
“Veins that pump with fear, sucking darkest clear,
Leading on your death’s construction.”
It sounded scratchy and powerful, his beautiful dark voice weaving the lyrics with the melody he drew from his guitar to form the siren’s song that would lure Vecna’s army of bats away from their master, leaving him vulnerable and defenseless for your friends’ bullets to land the killing blow.
“Taste me you will see,
More is all you need,
How I’m killing you.”
It was evident why Eddie had chosen this song.
He was quite literally flipping Vecna the bird, in his very own Eddie way.
And watching your songbird caught up in his music he so loved, so passionate as his fingers danced over the strings of his beloved guitar and the lyrics spilling from his lips as Dustin took his place at the edge of the roof, binoculars raised and gaze already trained on the western skies, towards Creel House, you couldn’t help the wide, happy grin tucking at your lips at the infectious joy Eddie was radiating.
“Come crawling faster.”
Tearing your gaze away from Eddie, you squinted, following Dustin’s line of sight to the western sky in the distance, the dark thunderclouds rolling in to herald the storm to come.
And there, above the treetops of the nearby woods…were the first bats.
The ones which must have been closer – only a few, trailblazers for the swarm which would soon follow suit.
And a cruel one, at that.
“Obey your master.”
Over the noise of Eddie’s music, you didn’t hear the sound of the door to the trailer creaking on its rusty old hinges as it was being opened.
“Your life burns faster.”
Neither did you hear the footsteps behind you, drawing closer.
A hand settled on your shoulder, fingers digging into the fabric of your own combat vest as your heart dropped with shock and you whirled around.
Coming face to face with a pair of steel blue eyes, bloodshot and crazed with madness.
“Master of puppets, I’m pulling your strings.”
You opened your mouth in shock, but the shellshocked gasp was cut off as Jason’s hand shot out to wrap around your throat.
There was no chance for you to call out for Eddie, to warn him and Dustin.
“Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams.”
“Game over, slut.” Jason’s voice, low and calm like that of a preacher during his Sunday morning sermon, was barely audible over the noise of the music.
But the look in his bloodshot eyes changed, growing darker, hungrier even than before as they locked on a point behind you.
Too diverted by playing bait for a swarm of monsters on the roof at top volume to notice the ones which had followed you through the gate from the other side.
“Blinded by me you can’t see a thing.”
With Jason’s hand squeezing your throat, cutting off oxygen and making the first stars dancing in your vision as panic swept over you, you closed your eyes and reached out to rouse the darkness nestled within your soul to command it, wield it like a fairy tale knight his flaming sword – but you were too slow.
Jason slammed your head against the trailer’s wall.
“Just call my name ‘cause I’ll hear you scream.”
Stars burst in your vision as the side of your face hit the wall, the pain of the impact hitting you like one of the crimson bolts of lightning above to split your skull as Jason finally let go of your throat.
You slid down the wall, falling like a puppet with its strings cut, your muscles disobeying the desperate command to climb back to your feet while the world spun around you as if you’d been strapped to a carousel, going faster and faster and faster until the world was split into two, three images, all dancing over each other.
Three Jasons looming above you, raising their head like a creature sprung straight out of the cover of one of Eddie’s D&D books, six pairs of eyes locking on the rooftop of the trailer.
“Watch the slut,” he commanded, and in your daze, you followed his gaze to the second person standing on top of the steps to the Munson trailer, his baseball cap casting a shadow across his face, only the flash of his teeth visible as gave you a leering grin.
With a nod Jason turned towards the ladder leaning at the trailer’s side, ready to climb towards Eddie and Dustin on the roof – before, one fist already clamped around one of the ladder’s steps, he paused.
You fought the nausea, fought for your hands to splay on the dead grass, fingers digging into the cold earth as your vision started to clear, three Jasons becoming one again while his free hand disappeared in the pocket of his letterman jacket.
“Come crawling faster.”
Help me, you pleaded at the darkness in your soul, reaching out but finding nothing but skull-splitting pain in your head, the ringing in your ears and the roar of your own blood mingling with Eddie’s song, loud enough to drown out the havoc on the ground at his feet as his own eyes and Dustin’s were locked at the distant skies, the first of the bats soaring towards you all across the treetops of the woods.
“Obey your master.”
And through the haze creeping in at the edges of your vision, more lights burst in front of your eyes as Jason pulled his hand out of his pocket again – only it wasn’t lights.
“Your life burns faster.”
It was the glint of a lightning bolt catching on the polished metal surface of whatever it was Jason was holding.
Jason had a gun.
No. No, no –
With panic morphing into raw, unfiltered terror, the surge of adrenaline momentarily conquered the pain and the daze of the blow to your head as you crawled across the grass towards Jason, ready to climb to your feet and stop him –
“Be a good girl and stay here, little slut,” Andy drawled. The tip of his sneaker hit your side as he kicked you down into the grass again, hard enough to force the air from your lungs for a second time and plunge you into a world of pain as you felt your ribs cracking, the sensation vibrating through your body as the impact forced you on your back.
“Obey your master.”
There was no air, no strength left in you for a warning scream – but Eddie and Dustin wouldn’t have heard it, anyways. The music was too loud.
And the last thing you saw as your senses were slipping, like water running through your hands as tears of panic and despair ran down your cheeks and fell into the grass, was the glinting gun clamped in Jason’s fist as he climbed the ladder to the roof.
Just as the first trailblazers of the swarm reached the trailer park.
There was never much going on in Eddie’s mind when he played the guitar or sang.
There was only the music, a current washing through him, stronger than the strongest weed could ever be as it infused him with the kind of ecstatic happiness that made him feel like he was flying, like the world was small and far away and the music his wings.
There were only two things that could make him as happy, as alive and awake. Making music – and being with you.
And fucking hell, he was good.
A little bit of self-hype in the face of a slow, painful death currently drawing closer in the distance on leathery wings, he figured, was okay.
It definitely was the most metal concert in the history of the world.
In this moment, Eddie felt more metal than Ozzy himself.
He’d wanted to take you to the Hideout one day so you could see him play with Corroded Coffin…but he wasn’t sure if anything could ever top this.
Most. Metal. Ever.
And in the haze of endorphins and serotonin and all the other -ins currently flooding his system as his fingers danced over the strings of his guitar, his muscles guided by reflexes more than anything else and the lyrics of the song spilling from his lips, it took a few split seconds for Eddie to notice the flash of movement in the corner of his eye.
And when he finally did, it was too late.
The song was cut off, the final note floating among the white spores dancing in the cold air as Eddie froze mid-movement, his eyes locking on the icy blue ones of Jason Carver – before they flitted down.
Coming to rest on the gun aimed right at Eddie’s face.
“Hey, freak,” Jason spat.
His fists were clutching the gun so tightly that his knuckles were white – but there was no tremor running through his hands.
He was as deadly calm as the atmosphere of this dark dimension.
“Jason,” Eddie replied quietly, fighting hard and failing miserably to banish the quiver of panic from his voice as he slowly let go of the guitar strapped around his torso to raise his hands in a gesture of surrender – in the hopes to keep Jason’s focus from straying to Dustin, who was cowering on the roof somewhere behind Eddie.
And if Jason was here, had followed through the gate –
“Where is she,” Eddie breathed, his eyes leaving the barrel of the gun to read Jason’s.
There was not a single spark of sanity left in them.
Nothing, not even the moment he’d realized Vecna had caught you in a trance, could compare to the raw terror gripping Eddie now, like a numbing, freezing, icy wave.
Not for the first of the murderous swarm of bats drawing closer with every second, not even for the gun aimed at his face, but at the thought of what Jason might have done to you, the image of that September night when he’d found you in the woods conjured up into his mind once more.
The smirk on Jason’s lips made Eddie want to throw up.
“Your little slut’s in good company. Andy’s taking care of her until I’m done with you.”
It felt as if someone had injected the icy water of Lover’s Lake straight into Eddie’s veins.
But before he could muster a reply, a high-pitched, blood-curdling shriek pierced the frozen air, making his gaze flit towards the woods, the first black dots against the backdrop of the dark skies illuminated by those eerie crimson flashes of lightning, before his eyes found Jason’s again.
“Listen,” Eddie tried, his voice trembling as hard as his hands, still raised in a gesture of surrender, “This thing that hurt Chrissy and Patrick and Fred Benson? It’s here. It lives here. And we’re here because we want to stop it. Make sure it won’t hurt anyone ever again. And right now, this thing – this, this demon – is sending its army of monsters right here so we need to get away from –“
“SHUT UP!” Jason’s roar came out of nowhere, making Eddie jump. “Don’t you dare say her name. Any of their names.”
Another high-pitched shriek echoed through the air, drawing closer and closer – but Eddie didn’t dare pull his gaze away from Jason again to check how close the bats already were.
He needed a distraction. He needed to get that fucking gun out of Jason’s hands, get Dustin and himself away from the roof and to you before the bats or Andy or whatever shit would happen next could hurt you, hurt any of them.
“DON’T MOVE!”, Jason hollered, and Eddie’s heart dropped to the floor a second time as he realized Jason had noticed Dustin somewhere behind Eddie.
“He’s telling the truth,” Dustin began quietly, his voice even. “Eddie didn’t hurt anyone. He’s trying to help. The demon –“
“The demon you summoned,” Jason hissed, his cold eyes locking on Eddie’s again. “You and your little cult. The boy’s in with you, right? Him and Sinclair. Your acolytes.”
“We don’t have time –“
“Dustin!”, Eddie hissed to silence Dustin, draw Jason’s attention away from the boy and back to himself as he slowly inched to the side, to put himself between the barrel of Jason’s gun and Dustin.
Time was running out.
Judging by the sound of shrieks and screeches filling the air, there were seconds left until the first of the bats would arrive at the trailer park – and minutes until the rest of the swarm drawn away from Creel House would follow suit.
“I know what you did. Sold your soul to the devil to make fires with your mind. But you know what? Fire won’t be fast enough. Not against a bullet.”
“You know what else will be faster? These things,” Eddie hissed, the shrieks filling the air growing louder by the second. But Jason didn’t budge, didn’t let his focus on Eddie falter.
“They’ll eat you alive,” Dustin breathed.
“Yeah?”, Jason sneered, taking a step closer towards Eddie, “Let them try. I got enough bullets. But the first one –“
There was a resounding click as Jason cocked the gun.
“The first one’s for you, freak.”
Pain. The world was ablaze with blinding, white-hot pain thumping through your skull, your ribs, charging through you with every beat of your pulse and every labored intake of breath as you fought for your muscles to obey your desperate commands to move, to somehow get the fuck up from the ground and race after Jason, terror clouding your muddled senses.
Your fingers sinking into the cold, dead ground of the Upside Down, fingernails breaking and teeth gritted with fierce determination, you dragged yourself towards the ladder, Andy’s leering chuckle sounding from behind you as he watched you struggle and fail to climb back to your feet.
There was something warm and sticky running down the side of your face – but whether it were tears or blood, you couldn’t tell. Didn’t care to tell.
There were shrieks in the distance, neither human nor animal. You didn’t need to look at the western sky to know what it was. The first bats, heralding the murderous swarm to follow suit. And the screeches were drawing closer fast.
You needed to get up.
Your hand splayed on the dead grass, and with a suppressed hiss of pain as your cracked rib protested at the movement and your skull felt like a glass vase shattering on the floor, you dragged yourself up to your feet.
“Aw, look at you, little slut,” Andy cooed. “Are you in love with the freak?”
A low wail ripped from you as Andy grabbed a fistful of your hair before yanking you backwards, against him.
“What do you see in that creep, anyways, huh?”, he crooned into your ear, his hot breath stale as it hit the side of your face, overpowering panic gripping you as Andy’s free hand clamped around your jaw, forcing your head up at the three silhouettes on the roof. Dustin, cowering on the ground behind Eddie, his hands raised – and Jason, holding Eddie at gunpoint.
“Jason’s gonna blow a bullet right into his ugly face. Send him straight down to Hell where he belongs.”
Help me, you pleaded at the darkness, but the haze clouding your senses was too strong, the spinning sensation too fast. The darkness didn’t heed your call.
Your senses were still reeling from the blow to your head, the crack in your ribs, the panic shrouding your mind in impenetrable fog as Jason’s shout rang out from the roof, the words muddled by the ringing in your ears, high-pitched and growing louder and louder.
Only that it wasn’t in your ears, but in the air.
And Andy was ripped away from you.
With his iron grip holding you upright gone, your legs gave in once more and you tumbled back into the grass as Andy’s scream rang through the night air, the crack of a gunshot ringing through the air, too loud –
But it wasn’t Jason who’d shot, you realized, momentary relief surging through you on another wave of adrenaline as you raised your head from the grass as a second gunshot sounded, like the crack of a whip, and a third, lacing with Andy’s screams.
The bats had him in a chokehold.
Right now, there were only a few of them, half a dozen in a blur of pale leathery wings, the horrors from your nightmares come to life. Andy’s bullets had missed them.
They were holding him on the ground, paper-streamer-tails wrapped around his limbs like ropes. His fist around the hilt of his gun loosened as one of the creatures wrapped its tail around his throat to silence his panicked screams, and the weapon fell from his hand, useless against the monstrous creatures, anyways.
More of them shot down from the skies, and you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for them to get you next.
But they didn’t.
There was a muted wail of pain ripping from Andy, nearly drowned out by the cacophony of screeching and hissing.
When your eyes flew open again, it was to the gruesome image of the bats sinking teeth and talons into Andy’s chest, blood splattering – but none of the creatures attacked you.
As if they didn’t even notice you were there, helpless and struggling on the cold ground mere feet away.
Another flash of lightning zigzagged across the skies above, everything too bright, too loud, a pandemonium of noise and light and nausea.
Your eyes fell on something small, discarded in the grass.
“Call them back.” Jason’s voice was barely loud enough to be heard over the screeches of the bats, over Andy Warren’s agonized, throttled wails as those…those things were eating him alive.
Eddie needed to get down there, needed to get to you, and get you and Dustin away from these things –
“I SAID CALL THEM BACK, FREAK!”
There was a streak of panic mingling with the hatred in Jason’s scream now as he waved the cocked gun at Eddie’s head, making him shrink back, still blocking Dustin from the madman’s line of vision, “CALL THESE FUCKING THINGS BACK!”
And through the daze of panic, it dawned on Eddie that Jason thought he’d been commanding them with his guitar.
“CALL THEM BACK OR I’LL BLOW YOUR FUCKING BRAINS OUT!”
Andy’s screams were growing louder, more agonized, more nauseating with every second.
Before Eddie could muster a reply, tell Jason he couldn’t…the clap of a gunshot pierced the air.
You couldn’t remember how you’d managed to climb back to your feet to throw yourself onto Andy’s discarded weapon, or the feeling of your fingers closing around its hilt.
But you remembered the feeling of grim determination flooding you as you’d raised the gun, aiming at the figure on the roof, the green of his letterman jacket marking the bullseye.
Never in a million years would you have thought you’d ever aim a gun at something else than a monster, at another person – but Jason was as much of a monster as the creatures devouring Andy Warren behind you, his agonized, muted wails dying down, drowning in the cacophony of screeches and the noise of flesh being ripped from his bones.
But the horror of Andy’s death cries, the hissing, screeching bats, the Upside Down…it all blurred into insignificance as you cocked the gun, your arms trembling with the remaining strength the adrenaline in your veins managed to rally.
There was not a single second of hesitation.
When your index finger settled on the trigger, your mind’s eye didn’t conjure up the memory of the look Jason had given you that September night as he’s forced his legs between yours, pressed you against the picnic table.
It showed you the memory of Jason, hovering above Eddie, your songbird slumped in Andy’s grip and dark curls spilling over his shoulders to hide his bloodied face as Jason raised the crowbar, the glint of silver moonlight catching on metal.
His words, spat at Eddie.
Let’s give the Freak a taste of his own medicine. I want to see how many bones we can break before we need a new crowbar.
You pulled the trigger.
The shot was a miss, the bullet not even grazing Jason before it hit the amplifier behind him, a rain of sparks flying in the air as the device died with an ear-shattering screech to momentarily rival the noise of the bats on the ground, the ones drawing closer above the woods.
But it was all the diversion Eddie needed.
Jason noticed his mistake too late.
With a roar of rage ripping from Eddie, the guitar soared down, Jason’s bloodshot eyes widening as they locked on Eddie’s – and Jason grunted in surprise as the guitar knocked the gun from his grip.
The weapon clattered to the ground.
For a split second, time seemed to freeze as Eddie and Jason watched as the gun slid across the rooftop, the scraping sound of it drowned out by Andy Warren’s dying cries as the bats continued to devour him.
The shellshocked moment was broken when Eddie’s eyes met Jason’s, abysses of rage and madness staring back.
Eddie lunged towards the discarded gun, having come to a stop at the edge of the trailer’s roof – but so did Jason, throwing himself onto the weapon just as Eddie reached it, and together, they plummeted from the roof.
The impact made blinding pain bolt through Eddie as he landed on his side, right on the cracked ribs Andy Warren had left with his crowbar, the force of it muting Eddie’s pained scream as stars danced in his vision, but he couldn’t wait for the pain to ebb.
He needed to get back to his feet and get the fucking gun before Jason could, and he needed to find you.
A hiss of pain ripping from Eddie’s throat, he rolled over, onto his stomach, elbows digging into the dead grass of the lawn as, through the pain exploding in his side, he fought himself up to his feet. A wave of dizziness swept over him before he caught himself, one hand splayed against the trailer’s side to steady himself.
The first thing he saw when he blinked back the tears of pain was Andy.
Or…what was left of him.
There was a twitch running through the guy’s hand, sprawled on the ground, coated with blood, as the bats continued to consume him, the wet sounds of teeth and talons tearing through skin and muscle and tissue too loud.
Eddie felt acidic bile rise in his throat as he averted his gaze, the horrid image already burned in his mind, joining Chrissy and her broken bones in his own collection of nightmares to haunt him. He would endure them all, as long as when he woke up drenched in sweat and tears with a scream on his lips, he would only have to turn and see you slumbering peacefully next to him.
Eddie could endure whatever shit would come his way, as long as you were there beside him.
But he was too late.
Eddie’s eyes locked on yours, wide and terrified in Jason’s chokehold, the gun pressed against the side of your head, a sickening grin twisting the jock’s freckled features as his cold eyes met Eddie’s.
“Game over, freak.”
And in the sky behind Jason, the swarm of bats had reached the edge of the woods.
He’d been over you before your muddled mind could catch up with what was happening, kicking the gun out of your grip with ease before grabbing the weapon and dragging you off the ground, your struggle weak, movements sluggish as if you were stuck in mud.
The barrel of the gun was cold against your skin as Jason pressed the weapon against your temple now, his arm locked around your throat to keep you in a chokehold, your back pressed against his chest.
Your vision blurred, coming in and out of focus before your eyes found Eddie’s.
There were tearstains glittering on his pale cheeks, and the cut on his brow you’d mended with the fish hook had ruptured again, fresh blood running down his temple, a few stray curls sticking to the crimson rivulets as he pushed himself away from the trailer’s wall, swaying a little on his feet while his hands shot to his side as his face contorted with pain, the spot where Andy’s crowbar had hit home back at the boathouse to crack Eddie’s ribs.
“Let her go,” Eddie breathed, his eyes travelling from yours to Jason’s, wide and pleading.
Help me, you screamed once more at the darkness you’d ripped away from Vecna, reaching out to grasp it, rouse it like you’d done in the boathouse, but you couldn’t reach it through the muddled daze in your mind.
If Jason had realized what had happened to Andy, he didn’t care.
The sickening sounds of the bats feasting on what was left of Andy were swallowed by the noise of the swarm, drawing closer by the second.
They’d tear you all to ribbons – if the bats occupied with Andy’s remains didn’t tire of him to do the job before the rest of the swarm could reach you.
Eddie moved to dart towards you before Jason’s hiss made him freeze once more. “Don’t. Move. Or I’ll kill her.”
The nausea churning in your guts was overpowering at the feeling of Jason’s hot breath hitting the side of your face, the barrel of the gun pressed so hard against your temple that you could feel the bruise forming beneath the metal already.
“I followed you because I wanted to kill you, Freak. For what you did to Chrissy. But I think I got a better idea.” Jason’s grip around your throat tightened, making darkness creep in at the edges of your vision as you gasped for air. “So much better. You took Chrissy. I’ll take your little slut. It’s fair, don’t you think?”
Eddie’s umber eyes were wide with terror as they locked on yours, tears spilling from his eyes – but his face blurred beneath your own tears as Jason forced you to the ground, your knees hitting the cold dirt and pain burst through your body as his chokehold around you loosened to grab a fistful of your hair, so hard that if felt as if he’d rip your scalp clean off.
The click as he cocked the gun vibrated through your throbbing skull –
“I did it.”
At the sound of Eddie’s voice, having reached its breaking point, Jason’s grip on you stilled.
“I killed Chrissy,” Eddie repeated quietly, his panicked gaze flicking to you before it settled on Jason again, and horrid realization hit you about what Eddie was doing.
Because Jason was so caught up in his twisted vigilante fantasies, in his own version of the story painting him a tragic hero and Eddie the monstrous villain to defeat. And Eddie was giving him what he wanted, a shot in the dark to buy more time and keep Jason occupied.
“I summoned a demon and made a deal. Create fires with my mind. And in exchange, he wanted lives. He chose them, I brought them to him. Fred, Patrick. Chrissy.” Eddie’s voice was growing steady as he spoke, the skilled dungeon master taking over to weave the desperate lie. Only his hands, curled into fists at his sides in an attempt to hide the tremors running through him, betrayed his panic and despair. With a small nod at you, he breathed, “The demon wants her next. She’s under a spell.”
“A spell,” Jason echoed hollowly. “Chrissy was under a spell.”
It attested Jason’s descend into madness that he truly believed the absurd fairy tale Eddie was weaving for him.
And maybe, just maybe…it could work.
“That’s why Chrissy went with you. You put her under a spell.”
No, you wanted to hiss at Jason, Chrissy went to buy drugs because she knew you wouldn’t care enough to help her.
“Is – is she under that spell now?” Pain shot through you as Jason gave you a little nudge, his fist still in your hair to keep you from falling face-first to the ground, drawing a weak cry from you.
His jaw set with grim determination, Eddie said, “Yeah.”
“I don’t believe you. Your little slut came to the boathouse. She –“
“Do you think she’d have ever wanted anything to do with Eddie The Freak?”, Eddie spat, and your heart squeezed in your chest at his words, echoing those he’d used in the cafeteria that day when he’d faced off Jason for spreading his vile, ugly lies.
It was exactly what Jason wanted to hear.
This wasn’t about Chrissy, or even you.
It was all about Jason and his ego, his hurt pride. And it had always been.
And Eddie, clever, empathic Eddie, knew exactly how to wield Jason’s narcissism in his own favor.
It dawned on you that Eddie wasn’t trying to buy more time to figure another way to save you both.
He was trying to paint you as the damsel in distress in need of saving, playing Jason’s game, and rendering himself the villain so Jason could be the hero he saw himself as.
So Jason would let you go.
There was a beat of hesitation, of Jason’s grasp around you loosening – before it tightened once more, ripping your head back while he bent down to you, his stench of sweat mingling with the tang of blood in the air as, his breath stirring your hair, he sneered, “You love her.”
There was an incredulous, maniacal laugh bubbling from Jason’s lips. “Eddie The Freak is in love. You know what? I don’t care if she’s under a spell. You’re not. You took Chrissy. I’ll take your slut. Say bye-bye.”
It happened too fast for your muddled mind to catch up.
Eddie’s eyes widened, tensing as his hands shot out as he darted forward as if in an attempt to tackle Jason to the ground, rip him away from you before he could pull the trigger – but someone else was faster.
There was a low grunt as Jason’s grip around you vanished, and you fell to the ground, hands splaying in the cold dirt to catch your fall as you whirled around. To Dustin.
He must’ve made his way down from the roof while the rest of you had been diverted, snuck up on Jason. And with a roar, Dustin raised the branch he’d picked up from the ground, ready to swing it at Jason for a second time.
But this time, Jason saw it coming.
And he was so much stronger than Dustin.
The roar morphed into a wail of pain as Jason’s fist connected with the boy’s face before you could command your muscles to move and stop him, and Dustin slumped to the ground.
And before you could charge at Jason, he whirled around, his fist connecting with your cheek – and in a rain of stars, you fell to the ground, and the world went dark.
Eddie had never been violent.
He’d always been a small kid, the punching ball for the bigger kids, too weak to ever even land a blow in return until puberty had struck, and he’d shot up, becoming tall enough for his height and his metal clothes to ward off any more physical attacks.
And even now, tall as he was, he was lanky. And no matter how strong he was, he probably wasn’t strong enough to best Jason, the jock, in a fight.
But despair and adrenaline and rage, the kind of blind rage Eddie had never felt before in his life before he’d ripped Jason away from you that September night, were like his very own superpower running through his veins as he charged, his fist clamping around the collar of Jason’s letterman jacket to yank him away from you and Dustin, his free hand already curled into a fist to land the first blow.
There was a split second of grim satisfaction at the sensation of his rings slamming against Jason’s cheek, metal meeting bone as pain shot through his fist at the impact.
The feeling didn’t last.
Jason’s crazed eyes flashing with fury, he attacked.
Eddie was too slow.
Before he could duck away, Jason’s fist slammed into his broken ribs, and Eddie’s scream was muted as the air was squeezed from him at the pain searing through his body, his legs giving in as Jason crashed into him.
It wasn’t a voice, exactly.
It was a feeling, something nudging and urging you from within, black mist battling the one numbing your mind and senses as you realized the shred of Vecna’s – of your – powers had finally been roused.
And it was stronger than the ringing in your ears, the pain in your skull, the spinning carousel of your senses; a tether of steel anchoring you amidst the storm that pushed your senses like a tiny little kite.
Your eyes flew open, your vision sharpening, colors crashing back to you as your eyes locked on the sky.
It was the color of a fresh bruise, crimson flashes zigzagging across like angry welts on skin, black thunderclouds rolling in fast over the nearby woods –
Hundreds, thousands of creatures like the ones which were still ripping the flesh from Andy Warren’s bones at the end of the yard.
And they’d nearly reached the trailer park.
It was the final realization to make the rest of your senses snap back to reality, pierce the haze clouding your mind.
Eddie. And Dustin.
You pushed yourself up from the ground, eyes snapping up to Dustin, rolled up on his side and obviously dazed by the blow to his head.
“Dustin, can you get up?”, you pressed, clambering to your knees as your eyes scanned your surroundings for Eddie.
He was on the ground mere feet away from you, Jason on top of him, pinning him into the dirt with his own weight as Eddie struggled against the hold.
There was a swift movement as Jason drew back his fist for another punch – but the blow never followed.
Instead, there was a flash of something, glinting in the sparse light, and your heart skipped its next beat as you fought yourself to your feet, far too slow to reach Eddie in time, your body going numb with shock.
Because clutched tightly in Jason’s fist, the serrated blade glinting eerily in the half-light, was a hunting knife.
Eddie’s name rang through the air on your scream, your voice breaking with panic.
Reflexes taking over, Eddie’s hand shot out to stop the trajectory of Jason’s knife as it soared down towards his exposed throat, adrenaline taking the wheel.
He didn’t feel pain as his fist wrapped around the jagged blade of Jason’s hunting knife mid-air.
He didn’t even feel the blood welling up where the serrated metal was sinking into the skin of his palm, dripping down on him like warm summer rain, Jason hovering right above him, his weight pressing Eddie to the ground.
In that moment, Eddie was certain not even Vecna’s eyes could hold so much madness and evil as Jason’s did right now; glaring abysses of nothing but hatred and bloodlust, his features twisted into a crazed grimace as his other hand, the one which had been pinning Eddie’s left arm to the ground, flew up, gripping the knife’s handle with both hands as he leaned his entire weight on it now, driving it closer to Eddie’s exposed neck, inch by inch, pain now flaring from the deep gash – but if he let go now, Jason would kill him.
The tip of the serrated blade grazed Eddie’s throat, cold metal biting the skin right above his collarbone as he realized he was losing, horribly losing this fight, the dice falling on a natural one to seal his fate at the hands of Jason Carver.
Eddie’s other hand, the one not wrapped around the blade, groped at the dead grass at his side, for a stone, something, anything to use to get Jason and his knife off of him.
Eddie could feel blood welling from the cut on his neck, collecting in a little pool in the hollow above his collarbone as Jason pushed the knife further, Eddie’s strength fading, the pain searing in his palm clutching the serrated blade growing unbearable, making him scream –
“It’s funny, to see you struggle”, Jason hissed, spit dribbling from his lips.
By now, he looked more like a rabid beast than a person.
Eddie’s fingers brushed against something in the grass, cool and smooth, the familiar feeling of it beneath his fingertips like discovering a friendly face in a crowd of strangers.
He didn’t need to look to know what it was. Hope flooded him as his hand wrapped around the neck of his guitar. It must have come loose when he’d tumbled from the roof.
“Just like your little slut struggled, in the woods.” Jason sneered, before a lewd smirk tucked at his lips and his voice morphed, becoming as calm as the surface of a pond. “She missed out. I would’ve made her feel so much better than you could ever have, freak.”
Eddie knew Jason had meant the words as a final stab, a final I’ve won, before his knife would slit Eddie’s throat.
But the memory Jason’s words conjured up, of you, struggling as Jason pinned you against that picnic table, his hands forcing their way underneath the hem of your cheerleader skirt right before Eddie had ripped him away from you, was what tipped the scales.
With a blazing surge of rage, Eddie swung the guitar – just as Jason was tackled off of him.
You didn’t remember how you’d managed to climb back to your feet, how your trembling legs had carried you across the dead grass, staggering towards Eddie and Jason.
There was only blind despair and white-hot fury fueling your movements as, with a roar of all the pent-up anger and hatred at Jason Carver, you crashed into him, tackling him off of Eddie like Eddie had ripped him away from you back in the woods that fateful September night six months ago.
The impact catapulted you to the ground alongside Jason, his contorted face a demonic mask as he used the momentum to roll on top of you, his hands closing around your throat –
The guitar’s strings released a distorted tone into the half-dark when Eddie slammed the instrument into the side of Jason’s head, hard enough for the impact to splinter his beloved guitar with an ugly crunching noise that reminded Eddie of the sound of Chrissy Cunningham’s bones snapping on his ceiling, and Jason was knocked off of you, slumping in the grass beside you like a limp rag.
With a silent thank you at his beloved guitar, Eddie let the pieces fall into the grass, pulling you to your feet with a swift motion as his uninjured hand came up to your cheek, his eyes finding yours, scanning you for injuries, but there was no time to check, or grasp what had just happened, or gather you up in his arms.
“WE GOTTA GO!” Dustin’s howl mingled with the noise of the swarm, of thousands of wings flapping in the air as they descended upon the Forest Hills trailer park.
There was no time to check on each other, to set the ring of gasoline on fire as initially planned to form a second barrier against the bats. The trailer’s reinforcements would have to do.
His hand gripping yours, Eddie dragged you towards the trailer.
And then the bats were there.
Ready to feast.
It had been Dustin’s idea to use the veranda door instead of the front door, the canopy of the roof and the metal fencing you’d fastened around to form a cage the perfect first barrier against the vicious swarm of monsters hot on your heels when Eddie slammed the fence’s door closed with the rattling of metal lacing and the furious screeches of the first bats as they slammed into the fence.
Their frustrated screeches rang in your ears as Eddie locked the fence’s door with a quick movement, jumping back before the creatures’ claws reaching through the gaps of the metal could catch him.
You jumped as one of the creatures smashed into the fence right in front of your face, and with only the fence wire between you and the beast, you stared in horror.
Up close, they looked even deadlier than in your nightmares.
Serrated claws made to slice through bone in a fellow swoop, eyeless faces opening up to a sea of razorblade-teeth, the putrid stench of rotting meat clinging to their pallid, leathery skin making your guts churn with nausea.
They weren’t beasts of prey. No, beasts of prey hunted to survive.
Those creatures…they were made to kill for the sake of killing.
The images your mind conjured up, of those serrated, hooked claws tearing through Eddie’s skin, through muscle and sinew and bone as he screamed in agony, pinned you in place before Eddie ripped you from your trance, his gentle hands pulling you backwards into the trailer.
Another door slamming shut, another chain rattling as Eddie put the lock in place, the scrape of metal against metal barely audible against the cacophony of screeching, hissing, screaming.
The noise of the bats hailing against the door, the walls, the roof was that of a hailstorm as the three of you caught your breaths.
When you’d reinforced the trailer with the metal plates, you’d been certain it would hold.
Now you wondered if that had been a terrible miscalculation.
“Shit,” Eddie panted, breaking the shaken silence before he turned around to come face to face with Dustin and you.
Blood was splattered across his throat, dripping from a shallow cut above his collarbone and soaking the fabric of the Hellfire shirt peeking out from under the combat vest. Dirt and grass and spores had caught in the dark curls spilling from the bandana around his head, and more blood was running from the gash on his brow which had ripped open again at some point as his chest heaved with every pant as his eyes flitted from you to Dustin and back, assessing the damage.
Eddie opened his mouth to utter a reply, but he was interrupted by Dustin’s shout, “EDDIE WHAT THE FUCK?!”, making Eddie and you jump, and your heart froze in your chest as you stared at the spot on Eddie’s side Dustin was frantically pointing at.
On the polished wooden hilt of Jason’s knife lodged there.
“JESUS H CHRIST,” Eddie called out with a squeal rivalling the bat’s shrieks outside as he pulled the knife out of his side before you could protest, mind racing with panic because you should never, ever, ever take the weapon out of a stab wound because it would only further the blood loss, your hands trembling uncontrollably as Eddie let himself sink to the ground and you moved to rip open the zipper of his combat vest to assess the damage, Dustin shouts high-pitched beside you, “Holy shit! Holy shit!” –
But when you pushed the vest aside to assess the damage Jason’s knife had done beneath, there was no blood. Not a single droplet.
The three of you fell silent again, the havoc of the bats raging outside momentarily blurring against the ringing in your ears as all of you stared at the pearly white fabric of Eddie’s Hellfire shirt.
“Jesus H Christ,” Eddie whispered, one hand pressed over his heart in shock, “Holy fuck.”
“Dude,” Dustin agreed on a trembling breath.
“The vest,” you murmured, lifting the side of the padded fabric, the two frayed holes where the blade had gone clean through, a hair’s breadth past Eddie’s side.
“Guess you were right about pulling up the zipper, huh,” Eddie stated weakly, and you raised the broken zipper in your hand.
“I broke it.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Eddie gave you a shaken grin, “It did its job.”
Another beat of silence, before Eddie rose back to his feet, swaying a little with residual shock before his gaze travelled from Dustin to you to assess the damage, before he croaked, “Anybody hurt?”
Dustin cocked an eyebrow. “Dude. Everybody’s hurt.”
A noise made you start, something slamming against the front door with more fervor than before, and your eyes met Eddie’s.
“We need get out of here.”
“It worked,” Dustin breathed, hands coming up to his head with a wide, bewildered grin on his face, “It fucking worked!”
There was unspoken understanding crossing between Eddie and you.
Because with the noise of the bats trying to find their way into the trailer…you weren’t so sure whether you shared Dustin’s optimism.
And the dark feeling in your guts was right…somebody had to keep the bats out of the trailer and away from the gate before they could wreak havoc and bloodbath over the Rightside Up Hawkins.
It wasn’t over yet.
With a subtle nod at you, Eddie turned to Dustin. “Okay, Dustin, get your ass through the gate. See if you can reach Erica to check in with them. We’re gonna be with you in a minute.”
“What? Why?! It’s only a sprained ankle. I fell a little weird when I jumped off the roof, that’s all. I can still –“
“Dustin,” Eddie interjected, more vehemently than probably intended, his voice strained as he tried to speak over the havoc the swarm was wreaking outside, “For once, do what you’re told, ‘kay? You’re limping, for fuck’s sake. What are you gonna do if these things come in here, argue with them?!”
To your surprise, Dustin actually clamped his mouth shut and heeded Eddie’s command without another attempt to change his mind, limping over towards the makeshift rope dangling from the gate in the middle of the living room as Eddie watched him, swatting a few of the spores away from his face before he inquired gently, “You need some help, man?”
Dustin gave him a grin over his shoulder.
“How? Are you gonna yeet me to the other side?”
“If you keep that tone, I might,” Eddie snickered while he watched Dustin start climbing, before turning back to you, and all the lightheartedness left his face, the mask stripped to reveal the terror beneath, before he raised his hand to cup your cheek.
His jaw set when his umber eyes locked on the gash on your brow where Jason had slammed your head against the trailer’s wall.
“It’s just a scratch,” you murmured.
“It’s not.” Eddie’s low voice was trembling so hard it was breaking. “What else…?”
“A concussion. A few broken ribs, pretty sure” you flinched, giving him a lopsided smirk, “Now we match.”
You reached out to grab Eddie’s other hand, coated with the blood running through his fingers and dripping to the floor, and you winced as you gently pried his fist open to reveal the deep cut running through his palm as Eddie let out a pained wince of his own.
“Uh, guess I’m officially Kas The Bloody-Handed now, huh?”, Eddie announced weakly. “Though I can’t handle another fish-hook-situation.”
There was no time for stitches, anyways.
Judging by the noise of the swarm pounding down on the trailer…you needed to get ready to fight.
With a small nod, you reached for the first-aid box Eddie had deposited on the kitchen aisle when you’d all went through the gate a few hours ago.
It was so Eddie, to think of something as small yet so significant like that little first-aid box.
You swallowed against the lump in your throat as you unrolled one of the gauze strips, and Eddie watched as you started to wrap the material around his palm, as firmly as possible to staunch the bleeding.
A few seconds longer, and Jason’s knife would have cut right to the bone.
The thought of Jason falling victim to those things ripping at the trailer’s outsides held that familiar feeling of dark, grim satisfaction. This time, though, there was no guilt, no shame about it.
At his softspoken words, your head snapped up from the bandage, meeting Eddie’s eyes which were swimming with concern, the silent question within. Are you okay?
“Do you think he’s dead?”
Your whisper was swallowed by the noise of the bats hailing against the walls, the roof, hacking and clawing at the metal reinforcements in their search for a way inside.
But Eddie had heard you, anyways.
“I dunno,” he said gently, his uninjured hand grasping yours. Watching you, he brushed the pad of his thumb over your wrist, the soothing little gesture you’d already become so used to, “Do you want him to be?”
Jason had been unconscious, knocked out by the blow to the head with Eddie’s guitar – but the bats would do to him what they’d done to Andy. The memory of it, the wet, squelching sounds of flesh being ripped from bones, made your guts churn and bile rise in your throat. You didn’t yet know what to feel about both of their cruel demises. But after everything they’d done, would have done…you couldn’t find it in you to pity them.
Not right now.
Maybe not ever.
All that mattered right now was that Team Crit Hit would be able to kill Vecna, that your friends and Eddie were safe.
“I want him to never hurt anyone ever again,” you finally replied.
“He won’t,” Eddie soothed, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours, a moment of quiet understanding passing between the two of you, his presence a sanctuary amidst the raging storm as the tears you’d been fighting to hold back stole themselves into your eyes after all, hot against your cheeks as they ran down your face and mingled with the blood still seeping from the gash on your brow.
“He won’t hurt you again.”
Before you could muster a reply, something slammed against the front door again, with such force that the hinges gave a low groan, making you jump apart, wide gazes meeting.
In wordless understanding, the two of you jumped to grab the makeshift weapons you’d spread out on the kitchen table.
Two spears, hunting knifes strapped to sticks.
And two shields, long nails driven through the metal of trashcan lids.
They’d have to make do.
Spear at the ready, your fingers clammy as they wrapped around the handle of the trashcan-lid-shield and the last remnants of dizziness not yet having receded from your senses, you positioned yourself beside Eddie in the middle of the Munson trailer’s living room, right underneath the gate, your back pressed flush against his as you listened to the noise of the bats trying to claw their way into the trailer.
And if those serrated claws could cut through bone…
Eddie’s skin was warm against your own as he angled his hand holding the makeshift spear, his pinkie linking with yours in a silent gesture of reassurance.
“It won’t hold forever, will it?”, you breathed.
Eddie swallowed. “No. It won’t.”
You nodded, panic threatening to sweep you away all over again.
“But it doesn’t have to,” Eddie added. You couldn’t tell whether he believed the words. “Only until they burned him to a crisp.”
And as if on cue, the ear-shattering noise…
As if the swarm had frozen mid-movement.
In the silence which settled over the trailer, you could hear the roar of blood in your ears, the thundering of your heartbeat as it mingled with the sound of your and Eddie’s ragged breaths in the air as you listened.
And in the silence, there was a soft flutter, travelling up the walls. Travelling up towards…
“The roof,” Eddie whispered, and you glanced over your shoulder to look at him. His head was raised, umber eyes scanning the ceiling, a single beam of light from the gate falling across his face to illuminate his profile. “They’re on the roof.”
There was another horrid realization dawning on you.
Whereas the Demodogs had hunted like…well, like animals, in a way…
The bats seemed to have a level of understanding which decidedly exceeded the wit of the Demodogs.
A scraping sound made your head snap up to a spot in the kitchen ceiling.
To the air vent above the stove.
“They can’t get in there,” you breathed. “That’s not possible.”
But even while you spoke the words…you knew it was.
The vent’s seal was pushed away from the outside, clattering to the kitchen floor with a noise that rang like the crack of a whip in the shaken silence of the Munson’s trailer.
Before you could react, tear yourself out of your panicked daze, Eddie did.
A feral roar spilled from him as he darted towards the kitchen, the first of the bats already clawing their way through the air vent – but before they could get through, Eddie slammed the spiked trashcan-lid-shield over the opening, hard enough for it to hold, sealing the vent.
With a shaken little grin, Eddie turned back to you, brushing a stray curl away from his lips. “There. Fixed it.”
“There are no other vents, are there?”, you breathed, and Eddie’s face fell the second realization hit you like a truck.
In Eddie’s bedroom.
The thought passing between the two of you, you both whirled around to dart towards Eddie’s bedroom, a weird, screeching sound ringing through the air like nails drawn across a chalkboard, as if something big from outside were tearing at the metal plates barring the windows.
The second the two of you burst through the doorway to Eddie’s bedroom, glass shattered, and the bedroom window burst into a million glittering pieces raining through the air as something big sailed through, landing on the carpet in the middle of the room.
It had ripped the metal away which had barred the window.
And as if time had frozen alongside you, Eddie and you watched in quiet horror how the thing cowering on the carpet raised its head.
It was Jason.
He looked like something which had already died and clawed its way from its grave.
Blood was spilling from a gash in his temple where Eddie’s guitar had broken the skin on impact when Eddie had knocked him off of you, and cuts were marring his face, tiny shards of broken window glass sticking out from the side of his face, his neck, like thorns from the skin of a monster.
And where his eyes should have been, bloodshot and burning with hatred…were two black holes, weeping blood.
The bats had taken his eyes.
“Please -” It was barely more than a whisper, a strangled sob, spilling from Jason’s lips.
Then, everything happened at once.
As Eddie pushed you behind him to shield you, the swarm broke through the shattered bedroom window like a deadly tsunami of fangs and talons, sweeping over Jason to drown him within. His strangled outcry was cut off amidst the pandemonium as Eddie pushed you backwards through the door, out of the bedroom, the first of the bats already flitting through the door, followed by a second one, before Eddie could slam it shut.
In the tiny hallway, there was no room to wield the spears, Eddie already trying to pull you back and place himself between you and the attacking bats as you raised your shield, readying yourself for the fight –
But the attack never came.
Just like with Andy Warren outside, the bats sailed past you, the tips of their wings brushing your cheeks like a soft caress as they pounced on Eddie, faces opening up to bare rows and rows of needle-sharp fangs, Eddie’s own shield gone, stuck to the kitchen ceiling to block the path through the air vent.
With a howl of fury, you slammed your own shield into the bats to knock them off of Eddie, your spear clattering to the ground as your other hand reached to grab one of them by the tail, ripping it away from Eddie who lashed at the second creature with his own spear, the blade driving clean through the thing’s wing to pin it against the wall as the nails of your spiked shield impaled the second one.
In perfect synchrony, you both darted towards the metal plates stored in the kitchen should any of the barriers around the trailer break so you could fix it from within, Eddie grabbing one of the corrugated sheets while you grabbed the nail gun, and the bedroom door was barred anew in a matter of seconds, just in time before the old wood could give in and tear from its hinges.
There was no time to assess your handywork, though.
“GUYS!”, Dustin’s shout from the Rightside Up rang through the gate, barely audible over the havoc the rest of the swarm was wreaking on the bedroom door.
“WE’RE BUSY!”, you shouted back as Eddie and you retreated towards the gate, remaining weapons raised – his spear and your shield, readying for the storm to come, terror gripping your senses and adrenaline flooding your veins.
Your sudden scream rang through the air as pain, searing, white-hot pain shot through your skull like a lightning bolt, your shield clattering to the ground as your hands flew up to press against the sides of your head because you feared the bone might shatter like Eddie’s bedroom window if you didn’t.
Pictures flooded your mind, images of Nancy and Robin and Steve, tied to the walls by tar-black creepers wrapping around their limbs, their throats, like mice in the hold of constrictor snakes, throttling them as they struggled against their force, bound and helpless.
Memories. No, not memories.
It was happening.
Your name rang through the air on Eddie’s desperate shout, and the pictures stopped, Eddie’s face coming into focus as he knelt in front of you on the ground, his hands folded over yours.
“We’re losing,” you whispered.
“What? What are you-”
“He’ll kill them,” you sobbed, “He’ll kill them all.”
“No,” Eddie breathed, “No, listen – he’s –“
“I SAW IT!”, you cried. “I – images from the hivemind. He’s killing them right now.”
“Monster slayer, listen to me –“
Scrambling back to your feet, “I need to help them.”
“Wait a second –“
“There is no second, Eddie!”
“LISTEN TO ME, GODDAMNIT!”, Eddie shouted, his hands settling on your shoulders with a gentleness so opposed to his raised voice, his eyes pleading as they locked on yours. “Sweetheart, please, think. He shows you what he wants you to see. That’s what he does! He’s a master-manipulator –“
Dustin’s voice, trembling with panic as it floated through the gate, made your heads snap up towards him, standing beneath the gate on the Rightside Up, his walkie in his hand.
“Erica called. Things escalated. There – Chance and a few of Jason’s friends attacked them. At Creel House. They’re gone now, but…they broke the Walkman.”
Max’s only chance to get out of the trance.
Your eyes locked on Eddie’s.
“It’s real,” you whispered. “I can go out there.”
“The bats –“
“They won’t hurt me. They didn’t attack. I don’t know why but they stayed away from me when they attacked Andy, and they stayed away right now when they attacked you. You saw it yourself. It’s…it’s like they don’t even see me. They won’t hurt me. It’s…it’s logical, I’m carrying a part of their hive. They think I’m with them.”
You bent down, grabbing the remaining spiked shield from the floor. “I need to save them.”
“I know”, Eddie breathed, voice shattering as tears streamed down his face. You barely heard the words over the noise of the swarm still trying to get through the bedroom door. “I’m coming with you.”
“No. No, you need to stay here. With Dustin. Go through the gate. Go to Fred’s gate. I’ll meet you there. We’ll all meet you there. Okay?”
“Eddie,” you pleaded. “Please. Please, listen to me. Go through the gate. Promise me you’ll go through the gate. Promise me you’ll get Dustin and run.”
There was a split second of hesitation, Eddie’s eyes scanning yours, before his hand came up to cradle your cheek and his lips crashed on yours in a final, desperate kiss filled with all the things there was no time left to say.
I love you. Promise this is not good-bye. Promise you’ll come back to me.
Your fingertips brushed over your green silk ribbon tied around Eddie’s wrist. Your lucky charm.
Pulling away from the kiss, you gently placed the spiked makeshift-shield in Eddie’s uninjured hand.
He wasn’t one for spears or swords.
He’d always been someone who protected instead of attacked.
You hoped he’d realized it made him as heroic and brave as a person could ever be.
“See you on the other side, monster slayer”, Eddie breathed.
And with a last glance at Eddie, his beautiful umber eyes shining with terror as he watched you go, you turned and raced out of the trailer.
Seconds bled into minutes.
One minute into two, into three.
The blood still gushing from the cut in Eddie’s hand was starting to soak through the gauze you’d wrapped around his palm, staining the bedsheets tied together to the makeshift rope as his fist tightened around the fabric, his uninjured hand clamped around the trashcan-shield’s handle.
There was the noise of the bats trying to get through the barred door of his bedroom, of Dustin frantically calling for Lucas and Erica on his RT, the silence on the other side, all of it blurring into white noise as Eddie’s mind was reeling.
There was something wrong.
Something he couldn’t quite pinpoint, gnawing at the back of his mind.
A thought lost in the fog of adrenaline and terror about everything that had happened, the horrors of Andy and Jason’s gory demise, and above all, the terror of knowing you were in danger.
While he was staying behind.
Not quite running again, but not fighting, either, no matter how hard he’d already fought, how he’d proven that maybe he wasn’t that guy anymore who ran as soon as danger arose.
But helpless, because he couldn’t be with you.
Because you were right; the bats didn’t touch you and if he’d went with you, the monsters would have killed him in a matter of minutes, shredded him to ribbons like they’d done with Andy and Jason.
It still broke Eddie to know you were facing this final battle on your own.
You wouldn’t have had to worry about the bats entering the trailer as you left, you realized as you slipped through the door.
Most of the swarm were still in Eddie’s bedroom, trying to get to the gate in the living room.
Trying to get to Eddie who, by now, would have made true of his promise and climbed through the gate, back to Dustin and the safety of the Rightside Up and on his way to the designated meeting point at Fred’s gate you’d all agreed upon.
Out of the danger zone.
And the rest of the bats which were clawing at the trailer’s walls, the roof, the fencing you left behind as you sprinted down the path to the road leading past the trailer park…they’d noticed you, but didn’t react.
As if you were one of them.
The part you’d stolen from Vecna protected you, once again helping to save those you loved.
Amidst the panic, there was gratitude for that darkness.
You weren’t alone.
Your breath forming little clouds in the toxic, freezing air of the Upside Down, legs burning and lungs on fire while your head felt as if it were being split apart by a drill from within, you raced into the woods lining the street.
Fog was crawling over the dead leaves on the ground, crawling up the naked trees like Vecna’s creeping vines as it grew thicker with every second, your panting filling the eerie silence of this place.
Frozen in time, like Sleeping Beauty’s cursed kingdom.
Your body was screaming in pain, but you were propelled forwards by the image of Robin, Nancy and Steve tied up, choking beneath the force of the black vines pinning them to the walls of Creel House, a horrid mirror image of Vecna’s lair, the lost, broken souls pinned to their pillars like dead butterflies, the colors gone from their once vibrant wings, muted and dull and stripped of everything they’d once been.
Eddie was safe for now, and so was Dustin.
And you begged all the higher powers that might listen to let your legs carry you fast enough to save Max and the rest of your friends.
This time as the pictures forced their way into your mind, making your body go numb as if you’d been plunged into a freezing lake, it knocked you off your feet.
The floor tilted as you tumbled into the dead grass, the blinding headache making you hiss in pain as it felt like your skull was split open so the images could pounce on your mind like the bats on the Munson trailer.
Of Max, suspended in the air like a fragile little puppet on its strings, her hair the color of flames in the dim blue light of the camping lantern barely able to keep the darkness in the attic of Creel House at bay.
Her eyes were white, rolled back in her head, lips parted with a muted scream.
And her bones…her bones started snapping.
Her fingers. One by one.
Her left arm, the sound resounding through your skull, like the sound of twigs being snapped in two. Then the right one.
You’d seen what had happened to poor Patrick, had seen Chrissy’s broken body.
But Max, who’d endured so much, the fierce girl with fire in her hair and fire in her heart, brave in the face of danger, who’d outrun the monster already…
It couldn’t be happening. It was a trick. Vecna was in your mind, tricking you once again, another trance to stop you because if the bats knew you’d left the trailer, so did he, of course he did.
Blood started running down her cheeks in crimson rivulets, so bright against her pale, freckled face.
As vibrant and bright as the life fading from her.
You could feel it, draining away like water down a tub.
No, not draining away…
Sucked out of her.
No. No, this isn’t real, not real, not real –
Before you could scream her name, the vision stopped and you rolled onto your back, ringing for air.
[FIFTEEN MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT.]
Eddie knew something bad had happened. He felt it in every fiber of his being, as the noise of the bats wreaking havoc on the blocked door to his bedroom, the walls and roof…stopped.
The pandemonium of wings beating against the outside of the trailer, of blood-curdling screams and hissing filling the air and of talons scratching and tearing at the metal plates reinforcing the tailer’s outside…it all stopped.
Deadly silence fell over the place, broken only by Eddie’s labored breaths, the wild thumping of his heart against his broken ribs.
The bats…the bats were leaving.
And the feeling which had been gnawing at the back of Eddie’s mind hit him like a speeding truck.
Realization, the final piece of the puzzle falling into place.
You’d connected the dots – but you’d all connected them so horribly, horribly wrong.
The bats hadn’t attacked you, yes. But not because they’d recognized the part of Vecna’s powers you’d stolen, marking you as part of the hive.
It had been a trap all along.
To lure you to Creel House, to his lair, trying to save your friends.
Vecna wanted to hurt you.
His monster slayer had run straight into Vecna’s waiting arms.
And his bats, those horrid creatures…they were leaving to follow.
To tear you and the rest of your friends to ribbons, just like he’d done with Andy and Jason.
But Eddie wouldn’t let them.
As you rolled over to scramble back to your feet, the seconds draining away like your friend’s lives in the creepers’ chokehold, Max’s life in Vecna’s, thunder rumbled through the air, louder than any storm you’d ever heard.
Only it wasn’t thunder.
The ground was moving.
And even before the ground split open, Creel House Cracking apart like the shell of an egg, you knew it hadn’t been a warning, or a threat.
What Vecna had shown you had been real.
You were too late.
And Max, clever, fierce, sarcastic Max who never let anything get her down, who never hesitated to fight tooth and claw for those she loved…
Max was dead.
[TEN MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT.]
In Little River, Louisiana, there sometimes had been hurricanes.
They’d went on for days, and when they’d moved on, there had of the Little River trailer park.
It had happened twice, as far as Eddie could remember.
He also remembered that feeling, when the noise of the wind and rain against the sides of the community shelter they’d had to seek refuge in had stopped, and they’d all stepped outside and the air had felt…calm. Clean and peaceful, in that odd way it did after a storm.
Eddie felt like that right now, with all of the panic which had dazed his mind only moments before just fading away, making room for a strange serenity.
“EDDIE WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!”, Dustin shouted through the gate, and Eddie’s eyes flitted up to meet the boy’s blue ones, wide with panic, his cheeks wet with tears.
They stared at each other. Rightside Up and Upside Down, frozen in their place for a single shared heartbeat like two ships passing in the night.
Eddie knew he would never reach Creel House in time in to help you fend off the bats, and even if he did – those things couldn’t be fought. There were too many of them.
Except…he didn’t have to.
Because Vecna wanted him. He wanted to kill Eddie to hurt you – and if Vecna was as petty as Eddie hoped he was…revenge would be the first box to tick off his to-do list.
All Eddie had to do was cause some havoc. Lure the bats away from you and your friends and back to him.
Because every second he’d manage to run to divert the bats and Vecna was time for you and the rest of the party to escape, to potentially kill the monster.
And if there was one thing he could do better even than play the guitar, Eddie figured, it was running.
Maybe this was why he’d been running all his life.
Running away from everything, not knowing that he was running to you.
Running away all his goddamn life so in the end, he would be able to run now and buy you more time.
“EDDIE COME ON!”
“Go to Fred’s gate.”
There was no time.
Eddie bent down to grab the makeshift spear discarded on the ground, his heart racing with the knowledge of what he was about to do.
“EDDIE!”, Dustin screamed as Eddie raised the spear.
The blade caught the crimson glow of the gate as it whirred through the air.
The makeshift rope fluttered to the ground on both sides of the gate, the bridge between worlds severed. Eddie could only hope it was enough to keep Dustin out of the Upside Down.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
What Eddie had always done from the moment he’d met you in the woods, what he’d wanted to do from the second he’d ripped Jason away from you.
“Keeping her safe,” Eddie replied softly, his eyes meeting Dustin’s. “Go to Fred’s gate. Wait for the others. I’ll meet you there.”
They both knew it was a lie.
“No. No, you promised her you’d go through the gate.”
“Yeah, I did.”
It was funny, how history repeated itself in the smallest ways.
Only days ago, Eddie had watched Nancy jump into Lover’s Lake after Steve, her bravery bordering on recklessness.
As unambiguous a sign of true love as those cynical eyes have ever seen.
He’d always understood why Nancy had done it. He’d known that he’d have done the same for you. No hesitation.
Eddie would have dived right into that cold, dark lake for the sliver of a chance to save you.
And that’s what he was doing now.
His eyes fell on the green silk ribbon you’d tied around his wrist only hours ago in the calm before the storm. It felt like an entire fucking lifetime ago.
He’d been so certain he’d never break a promise he made for you.
Eddie gave Dustin a sad little smile.
Goodbye, Dustin Henderson. Look after those lost little sheepies for me, ‘kay?
Eddie didn’t need to say the words.
He knew Dustin, the boy who, at some point along the way, had stopped being a friend to become a little brother to Eddie, understood.
And with the spear and shield in his hands, Eddie raced out of the trailer.
Onto the battlefield.
Max is dead.
Max is dead.
Max is dead.
Before you could react, let the realization settle in, you felt it.
Not yours but Vecna’s.
The Warlock guitar lay broken on the ground, two parts dangling from the strings.
But Eddie didn’t need a guitar to divert the bats.
There were a million other ways to draw them in – make Vecna sic them upon him.
With a howl of rage, Eddie drove the tip of the spear down, into one of the black creepers running through this eerie realm like blood vessels, covering the dead grass at his feet.
“THAT’S WHAT YOU WANTED, RIGHT?! I’M RIGHT HERE!”
The thing hissed, an eerie sound amidst the quietness, as Eddie pierced the spear through the slick black thing for a second time, the bats nowhere to be seen in the skies.
“I’M HERE, YOU SON OF A BITCH!” His voice echoed across the trailer park’s mirror image as he kept attacking the creepers on the ground. “I’M HERE YOU FUCKER! COME AND GET ME! YOU WANT ME, DON’T YA?! I’M –“
The words were cut off as something wrapped around Eddie’s ankles.
The impact as he slammed into the ground momentarily knocked the wind from his lungs, pain bolting through his cracked ribs as he struggled to get back on his feet, realizing that he couldn’t.
The creepers on the ground had grabbed his ankles, chaining him to the ground.
Eddie lashed at them with the blade of his spear, cutting and slashing while they slithered up his legs, faster and faster, panic rising in his chest – as his eyes locked on the tree line right across the street, the wood surrounding the Forest Hills trailer park.
The naked trees looked…wrong.
Movement travelled through them, all along the edge of the woods.
The horrid realization had hit Eddie that it had been a trap.
The bats weren’t in the sky.
And they’d never left.
They’d hidden in the trees at the edge of the woods, waiting for him to take the bait in his blind, all-consuming fear for you.
A thousand eyeless faces swiveled in his direction as the swarm broke away from the trees.
Panic was clawing its way up his chest as Eddie frantically hacked away at the creepers pinning him to the ground, hard enough for the strings tying the knife to the staff to come loose.
There was no time. He grabbed the knife, the gash on his palm ripping open again, blood pooling through the already soaked gauze and running down his hand in wet rivulets as Eddie drove the knife into the writhing black substance of the creepers again and again, hacking them away piece by piece, too slow.
They fell away, their hissing sounds swallowed by the cacophony of the swarm of bats soaring across the street and towards him.
A tidal wave of wings, of talons and teeth.
Before Eddie could scramble back to his feet, it reached him.
And swallowed him whole.
Images were pelting on your mind in rapid-fire frequency.
Robin and Steve, throwing Molotov cocktails.
Nancy, cocking her shotgun as the stench of burning, rotten flesh filled the air, Vecna’s roars of pain.
And then, you felt them.
Hundreds, thousands of…of beings, neurons in a network.
Wasps in a hive.
A thousand consciousnesses becoming one.
The swarm of bats.
Having bided their time.
Waiting, hiding in the trees.
And then, they weren’t hiding anymore.
They were attacking.
Eddie had been right.
It had been a trap.
And you’d both fallen for it.
“I’ll take your songbird. I’ll break him, bone by bone. And when I’m done, I’ll shatter his mind the way you shattered his heart, little thief. And maybe then…I’ll put him out of his misery.”
That was why the bats hadn’t attacked you.
Because their master had held them back.
And once again, you’d been stupid enough to fall for his tricks.
No. No, no, no –
With Eddie’s name ripping from you in a broken, desperate scream, you raced down the hill.
Into the woods.
Towards the trailer park.
But even then, you knew you were too late.
They were upon him.
A maelstrom, trapping him in their midst, a pandemonium of wings slapping his face, talons reaching for him, as, with a scream of fury and despair, Eddie grabbed the shield from the ground, slamming it into the nearest of those creatures in an attempt to keep them away, keep them at bay.
But there was no way he could.
There were thousands of them.
Their movement made the world around him tilt with vertigo as he leashed out with the knife, the tails of one of those creatures already wrapping around his wrist mid-movement to restrain him, and Eddie screamed as they ripped him to the ground, the bones in his wrist crushed beneath the creatures tail as more of them pounced down.
Tails wrapped around his other wrist, his ankles, pinning him to the cold ground, writhing and struggling and helpless as pain took over and his vision blurred with his tears.
And then, the rest of the swarm hailed down on him.
The scene unfolding in front of you when you broke out of the woods, Eddie’s name carried through the air on your broken scream, was one you’d seen before.
So many times. Night after sweat-drenched, tear-soaked night.
In your nightmares, though, Eddie had screamed. Battle cries fusing into dying ones.
Nothing like the horrible silence pressing in from all sides as you raced across the road, down the gravel to the Munson trailer.
They made room for you, the sea of wings and teeth and talons parting for you.
Of course they did.
That’s what Vecna had always promised you.
To take Eddie. Making him pay for what you’d stolen, knowing that nothing would ever be able to break you like losing Eddie could.
It was only logical to grant you the front seat as he did it.
“EDDIE!” The scream shattered as you let yourself fall to the ground beside him, the last of the bats letting go of him and darting into the air before you could rip them away, your knees hitting the dead grass, wet with rain –
No, not rain.
There was no rain in the Upside Down.
It was blood, Eddie’s blood, soaking the dead grass. Soaking his Hellfire shirt, blossoms of red unfurling on the white fabric where the combat vest was glaring open because you’d ripped away the zipper only moments before everything had went to hell.
The bats had fallen silent, locking you in this moment as they drew their circles in the air around the two of you, keeping you at the eye of the storm.
The sound of your name leaving Eddie’s lips was the ghost of a whisper as his umber eyes found yours.
“Eddie. It’s – it’s okay, I’m here. I’m here.” Your hands pressed over the wounds on his chest in a desperate attempt to staunch the bleeding, stop the flow of blood that was pooling beneath your palms, running through your fingers, warm and bright, the life draining out of him too fast. “We’ll get you out of here, okay? You need to hold on, Eddie. You gotta hold on because we can get you out of here, patch you up like – like at Skull Rock, okay? We’ll –“ Your words were cut off with the sobs you were trying so hard to suppress for his sake.
“Gonna need…a lot of fish hooks,” Eddie pressed, his voice so weak, but his lips curved into the ghost of one of his radiant sunshine-smiles like always when he tried to make you laugh, set you at ease.
No fish hook in the world could mend those wounds.
You both knew it.
You both knew this was the end.
With a sob ripping from you, you shuffled closer, gently cradling the back of his head as your other hand brushed away a few stray curls from where they’d stuck to the blood seeping from the bite wound on his cheek.
Eddie’s eyes, those beautiful umber eyes, were glittering with the tears spilling down his face, mirroring the ones you so desperately tried to hold back for his sake.
“’M sorry,” Eddie breathed. His voice was frail, crumbling away beneath the agony of his wounds, “’m sorry I broke my promise. I thought –“
“I know,” you breathed, softly shushing him. “I know. It’s okay, Eddie. It’s fine.”
Nothing would ever be okay again.
You gently reached out with your free hand, catching the tears that were running down Eddie’s face, the pad of your thumb caressing his cheek as, his eyes firmly locked on yours instead of the swarm swirling around you in the air, Eddie whispered, “Did we win?”
No. No, you didn’t.
Max was dead.
And you could feel Vecna’s presence even now, a dark shadow eclipsing everything in this realm. His wrath, the pain of whatever wounds Nancy and the others had managed to inflict on him, yet not enough to kill.
“Yes,” you breathed, forcing a smile on your lips to carry the lie, “Yes, we did. We won. Nancy landed the Crit Hit. They’re all okay.”
The smile of relief on Eddie’s lips broke you into a thousand pieces, before it turned sad. So deeply sad. “’M sorry I’m not gonna be there to take you to prom.”
“Eddie –“, you sobbed.
“Promise me…promise me you’ll graduate,” Eddie breathed. “Promise me you’ll…go to the beach. Live your life, ‘kay? Be happy.”
You would never be again.
Not without him. Not without Eddie, because Eddie was your happiness. He was your sun to light the day and the moon to illuminate the night and the stars to guide you through the dark.
And all of this light…it was dying. Fading away.
When it was left, there would only be darkness left.
An eternal void, right inside of your chest.
“You need…you need to promise me, monster slayer,” Eddie choked, his eyes pleading as he forced out the words. You could see how much it pained him to speak.
“Promise you’ll be happy again. Promise you’ll never lose that…that beautiful laugh of yours, ‘kay?”
There were no words. You couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe, your world ending yet the one you were in kept spinning as you forced yourself to nod, forced the tears away because if they started falling, they’d blur your vision and you couldn’t let that happen because you wanted to see Eddie, wanted to see the radiance of the soft smile he gave you despite the agony he must have been in; wanted to see the light in his beautiful umber eyes before it would forever be snuffed out.
“I need…to hear it, sweetheart.”
“Yes,” you choked out. It wasn’t a lie, not exactly. Because you wouldn’t lose your laugh.
Eddie would take it with him wherever he was going now, into the place where you couldn’t follow no matter how much you wished you could.
The lyrics of Max’s song came to your mind.
If I only could make a deal with god, and get him to swap our places…
You would. Without a second of hesitation.
But there was no god in this realm filled with horrors.
And Vecna didn’t make deals.
He only took.
“I love you-hoo, monster slayer,” Eddie whispered, blinking against his tears. “It’s always been you.”
The words faded into the air, barely more than a susurration. Soft like a spring breeze.
And the light, this radiant light in Eddie’s beautiful umber eyes, all the sparks and life which had been there, so vibrant…it was snuffed out.
Just like that.
You wanted to catch it like fireflies in the summer night’s air, trap it in a glass and put it back into Eddie’s eyes.
But you couldn’t bring it back.
There was no power in the world that could.
What stayed behind was the tenderness with which Eddie had always gazed at you, the ghost of his soft sunshine-smiles on his lips as if even his final breaths, so happy that you were with him, joy had won over the agony of his wounds, the terror of death.
But Eddie…Eddie was gone.
Vecna had made true of his promise.
He’d taken the most precious thing away from you after all.
He’d taken away your songbird.
He’d taken Eddie from you.
The scream which had been locked within your chest ripped free.
Of agony and loss and rage, clawing at you, ripping out of you from deep within, from the spot where you could feel something break.
Irreversibly, into so many pieces, that you would never be able to mend them, breaking and breaking until they were too small to break any further.
Like sand was made.
Maybe your heart would turn into a beach, to contain the ocean of darkness which spread through you, numbing your body as you keeled over, your face pressed into the crook of Eddie’s neck, his soft curls tickling your cheeks. The warmth had not yet started to fade from his skin, his scent of soap and chocolate and the faint traces of cigarettes still clinging to him beneath the metallic tang of blood.
“I love you, too,” you choked out, nuzzling your face against the side of his neck, the angry red marks the tails of the bats had left there, before you placed the softest of kisses on his lips. “I will always, always love you, Eddie Munson.”
You curled up on the hard ground, Eddie’s blood on the grass as cold now as the rest of this dark realm, and rested your head on his chest, above the spot where his heart had fluttered so beautifully against your palm only hours before.
Your favorite tune in the world, silenced forever.
You stayed like this. Curled up against Eddie’s side, your head resting on his chest, sobs ripping through you as the bats kept drawing their circles around the two of you, the flutter of their wings filling the air with soft rustles as the spores drifted all around you like fresh snow, settling in Eddie’s curls, in your lashes, on your cheeks.
You waited for them to cover you whole.
Find their way into your lungs and suffocate you like this grief was, this all-consuming grief tearing you apart.
To make it all stop.
To let you follow to wherever Eddie had gone.
Death, stories had taught Eddie, was supposed to be gentle.
It was supposed to be a warm, dark current to immerse him, make the agony of his wounds stop – but how could it ever be gentle and peaceful knowing that he’d leave his monster slayer behind in this horrible, freezing dark realm? How could it be peaceful when Eddie knew the girl he loved more even than he loved music and stories would stay behind, after going through so much already, left alone to weep over his body in this horrible place full of monsters?
I’m sorry. Eddie’s fingers found your green ribbon tied around his wrist; the silk soft beneath his fingertips. It was still there.
I will always, always come back to you, monster slayer. I promise.
The second promise he’d broken.
I’m so sorry, sweetheart.
When Eddie’s eyes fluttered open, there was only darkness. All around him.
The kind of darkness that was eternal, stretching on and on and on.
And Eddie was…afloat?
No, not afloat.
There was water, covering the ground all around him, but it didn’t soak him. He didn’t feel it.
He didn’t feel anything.
The agony of his wounds was gone – and so were the wounds, he realized as his hands shot out to his face, his chest.
“What the –“
The whisper travelled through the air, filling the silence of this place, mingling with the soft sloshing sound of the water beneath him as he rolled to his side, hackles raising.
There was something else there. In the darkness with him.
He could feel it, a looming presence.
He climbed back to his feet, the water at his feet gurgling happily, its echo floating through the eerie silence of this void.
And when Eddie turned around…
Something had changed.
There was a table, amidst the darkness, its legs sinking into the water.
A single, large table, like those in the Hawkins High cafeteria.
And on the table…
“What the fuck,” Eddie whispered, grasping one of the little figurines placed on the tabletop to examine it – just as a movement made his head snap up and his attention zone in on the figure at the head of the table, rising from a lonely chair, behind a black-and-silver dungeon master’s screen positioned there.
Eddie’s dungeon master screen, he realized, the doodle of the skull with the flash of lightning and the bat wings staring back at him from where he’d taped it to the plastic years ago. It had been the first draft of the Hellfire Club logo.
And the face surfacing from behind the screen, the lonely figure rising from the throne at the table’s head…
It was a little boy.
Seven, maybe eight years old, with the most unsettling eyes Eddie had ever seen.
The vibrant blue of blooming forget-me-nots dotting the sides of hiking trails in the woods around Lover’s Lake come summer.
A dark premonition or an educated guess, but…Eddie knew who the little boy was.
Eddie flinched at the sound of that name, placing the little figurine of the Mind Flayer back on the table in front of him, watching the boy tilt his head with a quirk of his lips, the ghost of a devious smirk that was so weirdly out of place on the child’s serene little face.
The boy’s arm shot out as he tossed something, and Eddie caught it mid-air, something small and hard. Like a pebble stone.
When he opened his palm to assess what it was he’d just caught, Eddie’s eyes widened.
Resting in his palm was a crimson D&D dice.
“Will you play a game with me, Eddie?”, Henry Creel asked.
I SWEAR ON DUSTIN’S MOTHER THERE WILL BE A HAPPY ENDING NEXT CHAPTER! Thank you so much for reading, for commenting and reblogging and sending all the lovely asks about this series. Thank you for sticking with me for fourteen chapters - here’s to the final one yet to come; I hope to have it ready for the weekend. Love ya 🖤
At least once a day eddie will walk up to you, say your name super serious to get your attention, and then proceed to pull his shirt all the way up to his collarbones to flash you. It’s not super scandalous or anything, the dude lounges around shirtless with you all of the time, but for some reason it makes your face and ears get hot like it is. He always manages to catch you off guard with it, and will do it in public just because he thinks it’s extra funny.
hi ❤ may I request a fic where the reader goes 😳 everytime they see eddie's lips and one day he can't help but ask why they keep looking at him (in a teasing way)?
Hello love! Sorry that it took a while to get this done, and even now, it's rather short, because I'm down with a cold (so I hope this makes sense and isn't messed up due to my drugged up brain). It got a little suggestive, more than I thought it would, but I hope this is kinda what you were picturing 💚
Requests are open | prompt lists for inspiration | Stranger Things Masterlist
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Word count: 1334
Warning/Tags: slightly suggestive, fluff, eddie being a tease (let me know if I missed anything)
Lips Like Honey
It was bad, really bad, but you couldn’t keep your mind from wandering, couldn’t even say when this had started, but at one point, your eyes had landed on Eddie’s lips when you’d been sitting at the table in the cafeteria and you’d wondered what they would feel like on your own lips, on your skin. You’d quickly shaken your head to get that idea out of your head, cheeks burning with embarrassment, because this was nothing you should think about someone who was your friend - and Eddie was your friend, wasn’t he? A couple of weeks ago, he’d asked you to sit with them, since you’d realised that you liked the same stuff, that you were in great company with the boys of Hellfire, and it had proven to be the best decision. Ever since then, you’d been looking forward to your lunch breaks, and to the Club meetings that you were allowed to join to get to know the game.
“You can join us for the next campaign, you know? Make your own character.” Eddie pulled you from your thoughts, your eyes landing on his lips again, which they tended to do even more when he was speaking. Your own lips opened, but closed again, while you slowly looked up at him like he’d just caught you doing something illegal.
“We’ll definitely help you!” Dustin said before Eddie could say what had been on the tip of his tongue. Probably for the better, because he didn’t really want to embarrass you in front of the others, but he’d definitely noticed you staring at his lips again and again, and it made him curious. Especially because you tried to hide it all the time, because you always got so flustered after you’d stared at his lips probably a moment too long. He’d also noticed you squirming in your seat, but ever since he’d noticed, he hadn’t caught you alone.
“Yeah… sounds good,” you managed to say, giving Dustin a faint smile, before you concentrated on your sandwich. That way you didn’t have to look up at Eddie again, whose eyes were boring into you.
Even in class, you began daydreaming when he was there. He didn’t even say anything in class, but he focused on scribbling something down in his notebook - probably lyrics that just came to his mind - or started to draw something, but you couldn’t see what. Because your eyes were glued to his lips again, to the way the tip of his tongue was sticking out. Something he always did when he was concentrating on something.
You cursed yourself for your vivid imagination, because the pictures in your head immediately made you squirm in your seat. You were lucky that your teacher was so focused on delivering his speech, because you wouldn’t have realised if he’d talked to you in that moment. Because in your head, you were somewhere private, Eddie’s lips moving all over your body. Normally, these thoughts were reserved for your dreams that always left you frustrated, because Eddie was nowhere near when you woke up.
“Y/N? Hey, can you hear me?” Eddie snapped his fingers in front of your face, which made you jump a little, hand on your chest to calm your racing heart. You quickly glanced around only to see that everyone except for you two had already filed out of the room because the lesson was over. “You alright? You kinda zoned out there for a bit.” He couldn’t hide the smirk on his lips, because he’d caught you staring again. And you were doing it now as well, only for a moment, before you caught yourself and scrambled up to put your books in your bag and get going.
“Yeah, fine. Just…” You wet your suddenly dry lips with your tongue trying to come up with an explanation. “Just a lot on my mind.”
“You sure that’s it?” Eddie leaned back against his table, arms crossed over his chest, while he kept looking at you like he just caught you doing… what you’d been doing.
“Yeah… yep. See you later!” Nearly tripping over your own feet, you made it out of the room and down the hall, because you just needed to get away. Away from him, away from school to hopefully get a grip.
It probably helped that you didn’t see Eddie until the next Hellfire Club meeting for the end of the current campaign. You’d promised that you’d be there, and you really thought you’d be alright. The meetings were always so lively, so energetic that you had to follow, that your attention was drawn away from Eddie, even though you loved listening to him, and watching him talk. But it was better for you to get that distraction. What you hadn’t expected, though, was that Eddie was in the room alone by the time you arrived. You were usually the last one to get there, and so you’d thought it would be the same right now as well. But it was just the two of you.
“Where is everyone?” you asked, putting your bag down next to your usual spot next to Eddie, because you had the perfect overview from there, and it would have been weird if you’d chosen a different spot today.
“They’re running a bit late as it seems.”
“All of them?”
“Don’t ask me, I’m the one who is already here,” he said with a smirk, because he’d told everyone that they would start half an hour later except for you. Because he’d realised that you’d been keeping your distance, even avoiding him, after you hadn’t spent your lunch breaks with them. He had a pretty good idea what this was about, but he had to find out, had to make sure, and therefore, he wanted to be alone with you.
“So, I haven’t seen you in the last couple of days. Everything alright? You sleep well?” Eddie inched closer to you, leaning over to put his face even closer to yours. “Have any nice dreams?”
His voice dropped lower, and when you cast your eyes downward to his lips, you could see that lopsided smile that made you swallow. You were glad that you were seated right now, because that voice mixed with that look did things to you, that you didn’t want to say out loud.
“So tell me… why do you always look at my lips?”
His words made you hold your breath. You’d been way too obvious for your own good, and you’d had a feeling that he’d caught up with that, but that he asked you about it now, made you wish that the floor beneath you would open up and swallow you whole. At least until he kept talking.
“Been thinking about what they could do?” He leaned even closer now, his lips brushing against your cheek, while his hand landed on you thigh for leverage. “How they would feel on your skin?” He’d seen right through you, and you couldn’t suppress a whimper when his lips made contact with the shell of your ear. “Because I’d gladly show you. Been thinking about this as well.”
“Eddie…” you whispered, but it came out more like a moan. That sound made Eddie’s grip on your thigh tighten, and he pulled back a little.“Just say the word and we can make these thoughts reality.” Now, his eyes were lingering on your lips, waiting for you to say something, but before you could do that, the door opened, making you both pull back when the others filed into the room. Your heart was still racing in your chest, and Eddie’s look told you that he was still waiting for an answer - and he’d get that answer once you finished that campaign, knowing that it would be torture for Eddie. But after weeks of dreaming about him, of torturing yourself, it was only fair that he got to suffer a little before you yelled yes from the top of your lungs.
Tag-list: @violetpenguinkris @tellhound @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @spideyanakin-interacts @bellamy-barnes @beepisbeep @snapefiction @hardysbitch @give-em-hellfire @sadbitchfangirl @ravenclawkimmi @lacrymosa-24 @ruinedbythehobbit @samlealea @hacker-ghost @kirsteng42 @princesseddie @anaisweird @harringtonfan4
Let me know (send me a message) if you want to be on one of my tag-lists. I have one for the Promises Series, Eddie x Reader, Steddie and Steve x Reader 💚
eddie saying “hey babe, come here?” and both reader and roan show up
i love this idea, I know it's not exactly what you asked for but I hope you like it !!!! ♡ fem!reader
Eddie gets home and can't see either of his girls. Not a brilliant sign but not necessarily a bad thing, he sheds his clothing one piece at a time. Steel-toed boots at the door, oil-covered coveralls at the couch, gross socks in the kitchen. He screws them up into a grease containing ball and drops them onto the floor with intention to pick them up later.
There's a pot of macaroni simmering on the furthest burner. He lifts the lid, stirs the pasta with a wooden spoon and then licks it clean, eyes rolling up into his head at the unmistakable pleasure of melty hot cheese. He turns off the heat and moves on to a pile of clothes he'd ironed last night on the table, finding for himself a new pair of socks and some well loved slacks, their left hem sewn back together by your clumsy, well-meaning hand.
He can hear the shower going as he nears the bathroom, and Roan's animated make pretend from her own bedroom. He bypasses both, desperate for a hair tie to pull his hair out of his face after a day of it tickling his cheeks. His first hair tie had snapped halfway through the day, and Wayne had laughed and told him he should've cut it a long time ago.
You swear in the bathroom. The shower gets turned off and you flash past the open door, a blur of skin and your white towel. You cuss with every wet footprint you leave behind, though eventually you must realise he's home, because you ask, "Eddie?"
"In here, baby."
Roan throws open her bedroom door with as much strength as her body possesses and stares across the way with a small frown. "What, daddy?"
He's going to say, I wasn't calling you, sweetheart, you can go back to your game, because her formidable expression might be indicative of a grouchy mood on the horizon, but he's missed her so much he gives in.
"Can't spare a kiss for dad, can you?" he asks, throwing a hand against his forehead.
She drags her feet and Eddie swoops her up into his arms, dropping kiss across her face anywhere he can. She cracks quickly like an egg with a soft shell and deigns to give him the cuddle he'd been craving.
You watch from the doorway with your hand held to your chest, holding your towel closed.
"You alright, sweetheart?" he asks you.
"Perfect," Roan answers.
You both grin over her head. Eddie shifts her weight into one arm so he can hold out the other and beckon you you him, hugging your damp shoulder.
"Ew, dad. You stink," Roan says.
You giggle from under his arm. "He really does."
"To think I was missing you both," he grumbles.
more eddie and roan
Kinktober week 1 - Shibari
Summary: After a bad day, all you want is some downtime with your boyfriend. And downtime includes some rope and a whole lotta fun.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word count: 4,693
Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, bdsm, shibari (using rope), oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kiddos), aftercare, lots of fluff, sex with a lil humour sprinkled in as a treat, just quite sweet really? porn with plot, softdom!Eddie, sub!reader, reader has a vagina, use of petnames (sweetheart, angel etc.)
AN: Massive shoutout to @mantorokk-writes, @steve-harringtons-slut & @charlie-heatons-whxre for giving me a boot up the arse to get Kinktober kicked off! Hoping to do at least once a week? I got ideas for the next one, but if there’s anything you wanna see please lemme know! Hope you enjoy!!
You’d both had a hell of a day.
Everything that could go wrong, had gone utterly wrong. Murphy’s law, and all that. Work had been a drag; usually, you could have sworn the diner was cursed or haunted, considering how temperamental the old machinery in there could be. Today? Today, you were sure gremlins had snuck in during the night shift and were determined to fuck with you any way possible. The coffee machine went bust, the dishwasher refused to turn on, and to top it all off, your boss was in one of his shitty moods.
You’d finished up your day shift in a mood that caused your whole features to harden, practically scowling the whole way on your walk home. Usually, you didn’t mind the twenty minutes it took to get to your little run down home, but it was just that little bit too cold to be pleasant, and you’d forgotten your jacket on your rush out the door. Yet another straw to the camel’s back, and you could feel yourself beginning to break.
Though the dark cloud looming over your head didn’t shift fully, it lightened a few shades as soon as you stepped through your front door. The place was pretty run down; when you had first moved in, you could tell the previous owner was still firmly stuck in the 60’s. Wallpaper peeled off the walls, stained jaundice from cigarette smoke, and the kitchen was in desperate need of a renovation, “A fixer upper,” Eddie had told you, when you’d first seen it with him. At first, it all felt like too much. Sure, it was the only thing you two could sensibly afford, but it was hard to see the bigger picture. Luckily, Eddie could see that picture clearly. You kind of missed that honeymoon phase now, when you’d first moved in and spent your free weekends decorating. Painting the walls side by side as the radio played, only getting into a paint fight once. Alright, two times, but you couldn’t leave Eddie that smug that he was the victor. He was quite the handyman, as it turned out. Wayne had come to help, lugging heavy toolboxes, and the Munson men had got to work fixing loose fittings and squeaky hinges. You’d supplied the beer and lunch, watching the two men from a distance as you painted old photo frames that you’d thrifted.
Your home wasn’t perfect. A lot of the furniture didn’t match – a few pieces plucked from various dumpsters around town, the rest second-hand – some doors still had to be jiggled just right to open and close, and your oven seemed to have an attitude problem. But it was yours and Eddie’s. Various photos of moments of your relationship together dotted surfaces and walls, his beloved posters hung neatly in different rooms. His amps and guitars in the living room, your battered old record player and collection of vinyls beside them. Home wasn’t bricks and mortar. It was a feeling. It was feeling safe, and secure, and remembering that the stain on your couch was thanks to Dustin spilling Pepsi when he jumped out of his skin during a Halloween movie night. It was a feeling that soon, Eddie would be home, and you could ease each other’s minds without having to put much effort in.
You heard the roar of his van while you were making dinner, music blasting and no doubt pissing off the neighbours even further. By the time you took the plates out of the cabinet, you heard the front door unlock, Eddie’s voice calling out he was home. You could tell instantly that he had just as much of a shit day as you had by voice alone. The usually melodic timbre now sombre and flat, sounding bone tired. As he came into the kitchen, though he graced you with a smile, it didn’t quite reach his eyes like it usually did. It made your heart slightly ache as you frowned at him. “Bad day?”
He hummed in agreement, hands coming up to scrub his face as he leaned against the counter. “Phil’s been riding my ass all day,” he murmured through his palms, arms dropping as he winced. “Shit, sorry baby. Didn’t mean to come in and just start complainin’.”
“No, tell me about it,” you said as you shook your head, busying yourself with serving up as Eddie moved to set the table. No matter what mood you were both in, it was a routine heavily engrained by now. Whoever cooked, the other would set the table and clean up after. Pretty much muscle memory, at this point.
“First of all, Tina called in to let us know that her kid had broken his arm falling out of a damn tree, so I was left to fend for myself. Then the shipment for that Dirty Dancing album still didn’t show yet again, and I had to deal with hormonal teenagers complaining no fuckin’ end about something I have no control over, y’know? It’s like they expect me to magically pull CD’s out of my ass or something.”
You nodded along as he complained about his day, pottering around the kitchen to grab a couple of beers and finally sitting yourself down at the dinner table. As Eddie talked between mouthfuls of food, you could see him starting to ever so slowly unwind. Having someone to vent to always helped him, and no doubt he was hangry from not being able to grab more than a couple of bites at work. He loved working at the record store, for the most part. He knew about music probably better than anything else, and it was usually slow and steady work when new releases that swept Hawkins like wildfire were readily available. But it seemed like for the both of you, today was just one of those days.
“But enough about me,” he sighed after a few moments of silence, grabbing his beer and taking a sip. “What about you? You look tired.”
“Feel tired,” you chuckled, shrugging as you leaned back in your chair. “Just the diner gremlins acting up again. You know, the usual.”
“Ah,” he nodded, clicking his teeth with his tongue. “Should really cast banishment in that place.”
The serious tone of his voice, mixed with that whisper of a smirk, never failed to make you smile. “Yeah, should really get on that,” you nodded with a mock look of sincerity. “Hard to find any warlocks around town, though.”
You both smiled, tensions easing as you fell into that comfortable bliss that you could both create with one another. The rest of the meal was spent with small talk; everything and nothing, including Eddie asking you if you’d still love him if he was a worm for some reason. To which you replied honestly. Of course. Only the finest soil and decaying leaves for worm Eddie. That seemed to cheer him up.
At first, you wondered if he wanted to just cuddle for the night, considering how you both had a long day. But it seemed that the good meal had given you both energy, and all it had took for you to agree with his slightly raised eyebrow as he suggested going to the bedroom for a bit of playtime was that certain look in his darkened eye as he gestured his head towards the stairs. It was something you both enjoyed often, especially when both of your minds were racing. A way to turn your brains off, for one to relinquish control and the other to reclaim it. Working in tandem to a headspace where nothing but each other’s bodies existed, soft inhales and exhales between locked lips and soft sounds of ecstasy. And by the look on Eddie’s face, he needed it just as badly as you did.
“Turn around a little for me, angel.”
It had felt like hours since you started, but you knew it was realistically not too long ago. The sun had settled behind the horizon just before you sat down on the bed, the bedroom now softly illuminated by the lamps on the bedside table. Eddie had taken his time undressing you, pressing kisses to your skin after each layer was dropped to the floor, beginning to sink you into that place in your mind where everything became slightly fuzzy and dreamlike. He had chosen the hemp rope from the selection that you had both acquired that lived in the bottom drawer of your dresser, and you slowly closed your eyes as you relaxed into the feeling of the soft strands whispering across your skin as he worked.
From the endless conversations that you’d had with Eddie about using rope, you knew it had just as much of an effect on him as it did for you. But it came from another angle. Where you were happy to give up the control for the however hours it took, revelling in the sensation of being restrained and cared for, he found it intensely helpful to have a single thing to work on. He wasn’t thinking about work, or bills, or the trash that needed to be taken out. He was thinking of the intricate folding and gentle tugging of the rope to create works of beauty that made you look so ethereal, so beautiful, nothing else but the here and now. It soothed his mind that was constantly racing about a hundred different things at once, and it was nice to have a repetitive, comforting task. And you have to admit, he was getting really good at it. He would spend hours pouring over books that he got from God knows where, always wanting to try new positions or knots. And you were more than happy to indulge.
Tonight, he had chosen his favourite ties. A pentagram harness that decorated your chest and cupped your breasts, using the extra length to secure your arms in a box tie. Both hands cupping your elbows as comfortably as they could, with enough rope to let them rely on the strands to hold them up. He was getting started on your legs, and judging by the way he wanted you kneeling and the two lengths of red rope in his hands, you had an idea with what he wanted.
Shifting yourself as much as you could with his helpful grip on you, you turned to face the foot of the bed, halfway down the length of it to give you enough space. His warm hands lingered on your skin, smoothing over it as you softly sighed at the sensation.
“Still with me?” he whispered, taking great effort not to be too loud in case it startled you. He knew that you were more fragile in this state, always attentive to when your shoulders slightly sagged and your lips parted. You nodded slightly, and you heard him huff in slight amusement as he gently squeezed your knee. “Need to hear you, baby.”
“Still here,” you murmured, taking a second to take a deep breath before you opened your eyes. Your gaze drifted to him, and you could melt under the look he was giving you. It wasn’t the hard, steely glare that he sometimes had when you played rough, the one that sent shock waves to your core. The look still held control, but God, he was looking at you like you were the finest masterpiece that he’d ever laid eyes on. It made you feel like a priceless piece of artwork in the best way possible; like you were made to be looked upon and revered, worshipped even. But you wanted him to continue, and to finally sink into that place where nothing existed outside of those four walls. “I’m green, Eds.”
He smiled at your use of the traffic light system that you used – green for continue, orange for slow down and red to stop completely – and pressed one final kiss to your temple before he resumed his work. As you suspected, it was a frog tie. Your thigh secured to your calves, making it impossible to move your legs and keeping you kneeling. You opened your eyes just enough to watch his face as he secured the final ties, and you couldn’t help but smile as you noticed the way the tip of his tongue was peeking from his lips, eyes narrowed as deft fingers pulled and knotted the strands. He must have caught you staring out of his periphery, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he tucked away the loose ends and leaned back to take you in. “Well, aren’t you lookin’ all pretty? Gimme a lil wiggle, gorgeous.”
You did as he asked, being careful not to topple over as you struggled against the restraints. Just like you knew would happen, the ropes didn’t yield, sparks shooting down your spine and straight to your pussy when you realised that you were truly helpless. You could feel how wet you’d become during his work, most likely already forming a damp spot on the sheets. You knew he liked to watch you squirm, and you could tell it was having an effect on him. He was still fully clothed for now; you knew it was for a reason. A non-verbal show of who had the power, and it fuelled your headspace like logs to a fire. But you wanted him to touch you so bad, to finally give that part of you attention that was now grabbing all your attention, and you let out a small whine as you bit your lip, giving him your most sultry look to try and entice him.
Eddie could read you like a book. He knew exactly what you were trying to do, yet he was seemingly playing the clueless card as he tilted his head. “Something the matter, baby?” he asked, a brow raised as he smirked.
“Please,” you mewled, knees separating even further to expose just how soaked you were. “Please Eds, need you to touch me.”
“But I have been,” he countered, face slowly morphing into one of knowing as he tutted once. “That’s it, isn’t it baby? Need me to take care of you? Need me to touch that pretty little pussy of yours?”
You nodded frenetically, letting out another small noise of need as you desperately tried to gain some friction on your clit, trying to rut against the bed and failing to gain any contact thanks to the position you were in. “Please, I wan’ it,” you whimpered, worrying your lower lip between your teeth.
You watched as he reached behind you, laying down two pillows behind your back and pressing a large palm to your chest, fingers curling under the pentagram of your tie as his other hand rested on the back of your head. Gently laying you down with a show of control that had you reeling, you settled on your back, thankful that the pillows left a gap for your arms to slot into, making the position a lot more comfortable. Your knees came up closer to your chest, falling to the sides and exposing you even more than your previous position. Eddie towered over you, sitting on his haunches as his eyes followed every curve and dip of your body, a look of hunger evident in his eyes as his palms skated over the insides of your thighs. So close to where you wanted him, but not enough. Not nearly enough. “You know the rules, baby. You gotta ask me real nicely,” he murmured, a small smirk on his face as he relished in the power.
“Pleeeease.” Your voice sounded so small, elongating every character or the word as your back arched. “Please Sir, please make me feel good. Need it so badly, wan’ you to make me come so much.”
You knew the honorific would wreck him, and judging by the low groan he let out, you were going to have what you wanted. “How can I resist when you say it all pretty like that?” he said, voice gruff and low in the way that it did whenever he wanted you. You watched as he shifted down the bed, laying on his front as he peppered your innermost thighs with kisses. “Gonna keep those legs open for me like a good girl, sweetheart?”
You nodded vigorously. You’d agree to anything, do anything, sell your soul to the fucking Devil if it finally meant having his mouth on you. And fuck, you almost came when he licked a languid stripe from your entrance to your clit, latching onto the sensitive bud as his tongue swirled around it. Your eyes screwing shut as your head tipped back, the sensations of his moans vibrating against your cunt as he continued his ministrations sending you barrelling towards your climax that much quicker. All you could hear were the sinful sounds of wetness and messy kisses to your slit, Eddie’s mumbles against your skin of “you taste so fucking good,” and “so wet f’ me,” making your legs shake as you rutted against his mouth, desperate for your release. You felt his finger enter you, one at first, hilted to the last knuckle before a second joined it, curling until it hit that spot that made you see stars behind your eyes, that coil deep in your gut tightening and tightening until it reached a near unbearable tension.
“Gonna- Fuck Eds, please, gonna…” You could barely think, barely speak under his skilled tongue and hands, but you wanted his permission. Knowing that with it, you could come undone even harder, until the tiny remains of thoughts finally slipped out of your grasp. All you wanted to feel was the bliss, and to know that he was the one causing it.
“Come for me baby, I got you,” he urged, fingers pumping into you eyen faster, words garbled as he didn’t let up from his task of swirling the tip of his tongue against your bud in dizzyingly fast movements. “Let go.”
It was his words, a final jab to your sweet spot inside you, and a soft suck to your clit that finally snapped the last remaining threads of your tether to reality. Your jaw fell slack into a silent scream, back arched and head thrown back as you tightened around his fingers, hips bucking as you rode out your orgasm. The restraints fuelling it, elongating it, as you writhed underneath them and found no escape. The pure hedonistic ecstasy causing your walls to pulse, even after Eddie removed his fingers from you.
Crowding over you after you managed to catch your breath and wrench your eyes open, Eddie kissed you with fervour, all teeth and tongue as he settled his weight onto his forearms on either side of your head. You could taste yourself on him, a pleasant tang that you grew to love whenever he kissed you after going down on you, the shame long gone about it. “You doing okay?” he murmured between kisses, lips trailing down your chin and across the length of your jaw.
“Green,” you managed to whisper, suddenly needy for him again, now he was finally on top of you. You craved him; you craved the fullness of his cock deep inside you, knowing it’d send you toppling over the edge again. During the moments of your comedown he must have got undressed, since you could feel his bare chest against yours, causing the rope to rub against your skin deliciously with his every movement. “More, please. Need you more, Eds. Fuck me.”
He huffed out a small laugh, now tracing his canines over the soft flesh of your neck, soothing it with his tongue afterwards. “Planning on it, pretty girl. Just gotta check you first, ‘kay?”
You were confused for a second, until he pulled away enough to turn you to your side. You felt his fingers gently pinch the tip of your own, checking for good blood flow. You couldn’t help but smile as you felt it, adoring how even in this moment, he would forgo his own pleasure just in case there was a hint of you being uncomfortable. “Feels fine,” you nodded reassuringly, words ever so slightly slurred. “Can go on for a bit longer.”
You were starting to come back to yourself, though everything was still hazy. Like your mind was replaced with cotton wool, like a fogged up mirror after a hot shower. Placing you back down gently, he smiled as he kissed you again, feeling the expression against your own lips. One of his hands reached between your bodies, and you felt the tip of his cock rub against your slit, eliciting a high pitched keen from you that he gleefully swallowed down as his tongue explored your mouth.
Eddie could be patient, when he wanted to be. And right now? Now, he was pacing you, stretching you out so slowly you thought you would combust. You swore you could feel every vein and ridge of his cock, each thrust stealing the air from your lungs as his lips never left your own. You could hear his soft grunts and whines as a hand comes up to stroke your hair away from your face, his hips setting a slow pace when he finally bottomed out into you.
The fact that this was lovemaking so tender, so stark against your restrained body clad in rope, that made it all the more intense. It’s not like he didn’t have the tendency to be rough with you on other occasions, and as much as you loved it, you were thankful that he chose tonight to worship your body. The bad day you had was so far away, when all you could feel was him, the way he rutted into you so carefully, as if you were made of fine china. The hand that tucked away the errant hairs came down to explore you, brush against your pebbled nipples, one after the other, trailing down your stomach and to where of you both met. Circling around your sensitive clit and made your cries even louder. You knew you weren’t gonna last long.
“M’close,” you managed to puff out, wriggling as much as your prone position afforded you to fuck back against him, the urge to come again starting to balloon inside you, until it was all you wanted.
“Me too,” he replied through gritted teeth, pace beginning to get irregular and more frantic as his hand settled on your hip for leverage. “Come with me baby, ‘kay? Can feel you getting so tight, shit.”
All that could be heard were your mixed sounds of pleasure; his grunts and low moans, your high keens and mewls as you tightened around him, walls pulsing and milking him for all that you could. You felt him twitch inside you, the tightening of his jaw the indicator that he was finally there. He spilled into you for what felt like hours, hips still rutting into you as if to push his cum as deep into you as you possibly could, and you loved the sensation of it. He finally slumped after the last few groans, resting his forehead on yours as he panted hard to catch his breath. You were doing the same, and you loved how you seemed to be breathing in tandem. His exhale to your inhale, and vice versa. Sharing air in a way that felt so intimate, making your head spin as you started to finally come down.
You both lay there what felt like an age, until the ache of your joints finally started to seep in, reality hitting you that you’d been in the same position for a while. Eddie must have picked up on your squirming, pressing one last kiss to your temple before slowly pulling out of you. You gently whined at the loss, and he smiled at it, giving you an apologetic look as he kneeled in between your legs and started to untie them. “You back to Earth yet, space cadet?” he asked you, the little quip making you giggle.
“Getting there,” you nodded, slightly hissing as he ever so gently started to ease your left leg straight, discomfort shooting through your muscles as he did so.
“I know baby,” he murmured, soothing you as he gently massaged your thighs and calves to get the blood flow back to them. “Sorry, should’a thought to let your legs go before I fucked you.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” you smiled, looking down at him as he worked on the other leg. “Was really fuckin’ hot being fucked like that.”
“God, it really was,” he wistfully sighed, taking a second to marvel at the indents that the rope left on your skin. Tracing his calloused fingertips over them, the motion making you bite your bottom lip and let out a soft moan at how good it felt. “Take it you wouldn’t mind doing this tie combination again?”
“Would I mind,” you scoffed, a playfulness coming back to you as you nudged his waist with your ankle. “If you make me come like that again, you can do it whenever you want.”
“Noted,” he smirked, tossing you a wink as he reached forward to carefully take hold of your shoulders. “Gonna help you sit up, if that’s okay?”
You nodded, allowing him to guide you until you were sitting as he settled you on his chest. You perched your head onto his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his cologne and a smell that could only be described as Eddie as you nuzzled into his neck. “Y’ smell good,” you mumbled into the skin.
You felt his laugh rumble though his chest against yours more than you heard it. “I probably smell like nothing but sweat at this point, sweetheart,” he answered, carefully letting your arms fall to your sides as he took care in massaging them like he had done your legs. “Been at work all day and just came so hard I think I saw God for a minute. Need a shower after all that.”
“Noooo,” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck now they were finally free, hating the idea of him leaving your embrace. “Shower later. Cuddles first.”
Though it surely made his task more difficult, he didn’t make you separate from him as he uncoiled the rest of the harness around your chest, shushing you gently as he carefully pulled the beginning knot from around your middle. “M’ not goin’ anywhere yet, sweetheart. Cuddles first, promise.”
That appeased you enough, letting your eyes close as you felt yourself be gently moved until you were laying down, your head on his chest and hearing his heartbeat begin to slow to a normal pace. He only shifted you one more time, so he could pull the blankets up over you, making sure you were tucked in and warm enough as he kissed the crown of your head. “Did so well f’ me, angel. Such a good girl.”
Your only answer was a small hum of acknowledgement, sleep starting to pull at your mind as you began to drift away. You were so cosy, and so warm and felt so loved. You could barely remember what had led you here, to this moment. All you knew was that before, you were having a bad day. Now, you were finally so relaxed that you couldn’t find it within yourself to move.
“You fallin’ asleep on me baby?” Eddie whispered, sounding amused as he stroked soothing patterns up and down your spine, the motion aiding you in drifting off.
You vaguely remember nodding, before you finally dozed off. And you could remember him saying something about a shower, but you were too blissed out to worry about that. Knowing Eddie, he’d probably wake you up in a while to clean you up and get you changed into fresh pyjamas. But right now, all you wanted was him. To feel him so close to you, and to feel protected and cherished in his arms.
And you felt exactly that.
eddie munson but he’s a phil dunphy!dad
as in: “if i’m not my kids best friend, then what’s the point?” and “i don’t wanna be bad cop. i have to counteract your bad cop so they know they’re still loved.”
nik. eddie's child would so radiate his craziness.
— two oc's named joan from joan jett & the blackhearts, and james from metallica.
it looks like an interrogation scene here — you and eddie standing in front of your two, guilt-ridden but proud children, the lights above the table the only light in the kitchen. you have your arms at your sides and eddie's crossed, though his expression was way far from disappointment.
"i've got a question for you, joan," you place your fingers down on the table, leaning forward. "on 10:16pm, you said you were going to bed, correct?"
eleven-year-old joan stares up at you, hands at her sides, hair disheveled that matches her fathers. she looks like a splitting image of him, so it's kind of hard to pretend to be mad at her.
"yes," she says.
"i went to visit your room at around 10:47, and you were asleep. snoring, even." behind you, eddie nods, comically slow, eyes narrowed; you can't see his expression, but seeing james stifle a laugh beside his sister, you know damn well eddie's being unserious right now.
"that is correct,"
"so how come, when your father and i went down to take a glass of water—"
both eddie and james cough. you kick your husband in the shin.
"—and not only do i see your little brother, but i see you. and you claim to have, what?"
joan's eyes are nothing but sassy, an eyebrow raised. "i said i saw a rat beneath the table."
"but how did you know that there was a rat if you were asleep?"
"i followed it down here,"
"so you saw it at your bedroom?" she nods. "how did you see the rat if you were asleep?"
"it made a noise."
she nods. "a noise. behind the cabinet. i heard squeaking and i followed it down,"
you pretend to be suspicious, even though you know she wasn't really asleep. but joan's got the mind of her father — it's easy to make up a story and convince people it was real. though she uses that opportunity for good. but now...
turning your head, you look at eddie with raised eyebrows as if to say it was his turn. he sighs, pulling a chair out to sit in front of his kids. he places his elbows on the table, the sleeves of his shirt wrinkled.
"joan..." eddie leans close, voice low but loud enough to be heard. "did you take the cookie?"
she gasps, dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. "why must you accuse me of this?! your own daugher?! dad, you know i never take cookies from the jar past 8pm."
eddie sighs gravely. "of course i know you wouldn't sweetheart," he leans over to pinch her cheek. you fight back the urge to roll your eyes as he moves on the james. "alright little buddy. tell me how you got the cookies."
james, although a mama's boy, loves it when eddie does this. he leans close, to the point where he thinks you wouldn't hear his whisper but oh, you so do.
"joan picked me up to reach the jar."
you and joan both gasp. eddie raises his hand to high five his son. your daughter groans and starts berating james, and you turn to eddie. "honey, you were supposed to be the bad cop!"
he pouts. "i don’t wanna be bad cop. i have to counteract your bad cop so they know they’re still loved."
sighing, you rub your forehead as the siblings argue, joan complaining on why james would snitch on her. eddie gives you begging eyes, almost sympathetic.
"you know i ought to be my child's best friend, babe. what's the point of children if i'm not their best friend?!"
you roll your eyes. "okay. okay okay, hey! you two," they both stop, hands halfway raised into the small slapping contest. "no more cookies past seven, got it? if i catch you guys do this again, no cookies for a week."
the kids look adorably forlorn. but eddie being eddie, leans close again and bickers their ears in. "next time, just ask daddy or try not to get caught, okay?"
"eddie, i'm taking away your cookie priveleges."
husband!steve, Unprotected sex, p in v, cumming inside, talk of pregnancy, cock warming, pubic hair, dom!steve, sub!reader
You felt steve’s arms pull you closer, you felt his warm skin against your back and you shuddered a bit, the mix of the morning coolness and his warmth was weirdly nice. Before you knew it soft kisses were planted on your neck. this was a morning tradition by this point, waking up in each other's arms and then him cumming inside you.
“You’re already hard” you whispered, feeling his hard-on pressing onto your ass. Steve laughed, he rubbed his forehead on your shoulder and he moved the arm he had around you to play with the hem of your shirt.
“Good thing, just have to work you up now” he whispered, hand moving between your legs. Steve’s fingers rubbed up and down over your panties, making sure he put more pressure when he made it up to your clit.
You shifted onto your back, opening your legs for him. Steve’s cock rubbed against your hip, and his fingers slipped into your panties, moving down and getting his fingers slick with your arousal then coming and circling his fingertips on your clit.
Soon you were tugging down your panties and steve was tossing his boxers onto the floor then moving on top of you and between your legs.
“Gonna fill your fuckin’ cunt up” steve huffed, his hand helping his cock slide smoothly through your folds before bringing it to your entrance and pushing in.
“you’re gonna carry my fucking child, aren’t you pretty girl?” steve grunted, your legs tightened around his waist as you moved with his thrusts, grinding up and his pubic hair tickled your clit while he grinded into you.
you nodded as short breaths left you, “mhm! i will” you mumbled and your hand gripped his shoulder. you knew steve was a family man, wanting six kids was no joke and you knew he truly wanted it, wanted a family with you.
quick and hard thrusts and the friction on your clit had you cumming hard, clenching around him and make him squeeze his eyes shut.
steve didn’t even have to tell you that he was about to cum, you could feel it and it only confirmed your thoughts when you felt the warmth. his weight rested on you, his head resting against your neck and your nails scratched his back soothingly.
“gonna make sure you get every drop” steve whispered, he pulled away and your hands went to beside your sides, his hands moving your hips up a little, he pulled out and pushed the cum that came leaking out back into you then pushing his cock back in and coming back to rest on you.
pairing: robin x fem! reader
contains: first kisses, fluff, an established (but new!) relationship
“I wanna kiss you.”
It’s a rather sudden, unexpected selection of words that take you for a fool the minute you hear them— face burning with heat, chest tightening, stomach making monumental, olympic grade flips.
Apparently, studying is no longer on the agenda.
You look up from the book you’ve been reading, a little dazed, meeting Robin’s gaze with butterflies fluttering against your ribcage. “I— um. Can you repeat that for me?”
The world tilts on its axis.
“I said, ‘I wanna kiss you.’” She’s looking at you and you can’t quite decipher what it is she’s feeling, but she’s smiling— and it’s a nice smile. The kind that reaches her eyes and pokes in her dimples, shows the crowns of her canines. “That alright with you?”
Owlishly, you blink back at her. “I… I wouldn’t mind,” the words you say are airy, not quite real, “if you did.”
Robin tilts her head. The tips of her ears are scarlet, and she’s twirling the pen between her fingers like she does when she’s nervous, artfully as ever. Still, her voice doesn’t waver. Rather, it enlists a certain bravado that makes you impossibly weak in the knees. You thank the stars you’re seated.
“But do you want me to? It’s okay if you aren’t ready yet. You just— ah— look so cute when you concentrate.”
Gosh, it isn’t fair, how she tugs all the air out of your lungs so easily. You nod, and your head feels heavy, full of cosmic wonder, you think. Dating Robin has made a habit of being perpetually in orbit, world spinning. It’s new and exciting and you’re practically over the moon that she’s finally, finally asking because you’ve been dreaming about what her lips would taste like since the moment you met her. Sweet, perhaps.
“Yeah. I want— I want that. A lot.”
Not too dissimilar to music, she offers a laugh— a giggle, your mind corrects— shaking her head a little. She’d tried to tie her hair back; it’s falling out of the little ponytail she’d managed to fuss it into, and there’s smudge of blue ink high on her cheekbone . She looks pretty. Really, very gorgeous. “Alright then,” she hums, “since it’s something we both want.”
She leans forehead slightly, brushing her hand against the side of your face and it feels like electricity dances where she touches you. Instinctively, you close your eyes. Robin runs a thumb across the plain of your lips.
When her mouth plants against yours, it is gentle and kind and a little clumsy and absolutely perfect. The universe expands and snaps in your skull. It feels like an interstellar event.
Vaguely, you note, that she tastes like the tangerines you’d shared at lunch. Sweet.
No because steve would be the sweetest most caring boyfriend but he’s also sooo nasty 🥺 like hell be all gentlemanly about taking you to a cute diner, sharing a milkshake, giving you his jacket. And then he drives off to Lover’s Lake so he can finger you all nicely while you makeout ❤️
STOP IT MY 🐱 IS SCREAMING 😫
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾
“Sit there nice ‘n’ pretty for me, honey.”
Steve’s voice filtered into the cool air, muffled slightly because of his mouth on yours— the cool hood of his BMW was prominent from beneath you while he settled himself, standing between your spread thighs and bending just enough to reach your lips, two of his thick fingers inside of your puffy pussy.
“Always so good, ain’t ya, baby?” He cooed, quick and rhetorical, leaning in to suckle on your bottom lip before pulling back soon after. “Gotta spoil you a bit more, don’t you think?”
You whined against his perfect lips, so pretty and plump against your own, his tongue warm and lolling in your mouth, swiping over your own tongue and flicking over your teeth— so obscene, but you loved it.
His fingers curled upwards, thrusting and rutting so perfectly, constantly nudging that special spot so deep, your slick arousal dripping along his knuckles and wrist, creaming his fingers completely.
“Atta girl, lettin’ me fuck you on the hood of my car—” his mouth was so red, glistening with the combination of your spit and his in the light of the silvery moon above you. “shit, you’re squeezin’ em so hard, baby, can barely move.”
“Can’t help it, Stevie.” You were whining, babbling against his tongue, drool slipping down your chin and over the hand that kept you in place.
“I know, I know-” he sucked in a shaky breath when you tugged at his thick tresses, fingers completely tangled and he couldn’t help but rut against you— cock hard and hurting so bad from underneath his tight jeans. “Don’t cum yet though, honey. Gotta get my mouth on you first.”
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