homowithinternet

[homowithinternet]

Bedtime stories (Eddie Munson x GN reader)

Warnings: Talk of racism, homophobia, violence, and gore (in the book, not directed towards anyone), F-slur (I am gay pls dont come for me) 16+ please!!

GN reader, no race or physical description, all are welcome here :)

AN: I am aware that the book contains the n-word multiple times, and for the sake of the story and the fact that I am white, please know that when the book is being read, the word is ALWAYS skipped. I DON'T APPROVE OF THE FACT STEPHEN KING PUT THAT IN HIS BOOK AND I WILL NEVER EVER BE OKAY WITH ANY NON-POC SAYING IT!!!

“The Start of the flood, 1957” you said, your voice softly echoing off the walls. You were laying in bed, Eddie's head on your chest as you were reading to him, and you ran your hand through his hair. You could hear his soft, even breaths, and the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof. As you read, you take the opportunity to inhale his scent, a soft musky odor mixed with ash, weed and a sort of spearmint. You'd never tell him this but you have always found his smell comforting. You continue to read on, to the part right where Georgie meets his doom. “‘Everything down here floats’ that chuckling, rotten voice whispered, and suddenly there was a ripping noise, and a flaring sheet of agony, and Georgie Denbrough knew no more.” you speak softly. It always amazed Eddie how soft and gentle and lulling your voice could be when you spoke to him compared to anyone else. “Jesus, only you could make the most gruesome words sound like the most beautiful thing on the goddamn Earth.” He chuckled, and you jostled your shoulder, shaking him as you poke his ribs,” Watch it Munson, or I'll make sure Pennywise gets you next” you say tone dropping towards the end speaking in the spookiest voice you could muster, only making him laugh harder. “Yeah yeah whatever, just get back to reading, weirdo.” he grumbled, laying back into his comfortable position on your chest. You keep reading on to the next chapter, the both of you cringing lightly as you read of the fateful demise of Adrian Mellon. “God, I wish that this bullshit would stop. Like why cant gay people exist in peace without someone calling us fags or beating us half to death. What did we ever do?” Eddie asks, slightly turning further into your body, as if to protect himself, and he inhales your scent.He could never narrow down exactly what you smelled like besides the smell of your shampoo but it didn't matter. If you were to ask him, he'd always say you smelled like home, like safety, comfort, love, and most importantly, you smelled like YOU. Eddie has known his sexuality since he was young, and growing up in Indiana as a young bisexual boy who didn’t meet societies standards didn’t bode too well for him. More often than not, Wayne would be sitting down with the poor boy and cleaning his wounds after he’d get beat up by the local homophobes. You understood why he was hesitant for you to continue reading, given how it affects him, so while you wait for the OK to continue, you set the book down on your legs to hold the man. Running your fingers through his hair and trying to get him out of his head you say, “Baby, i'm so sorry for the shit this horrible town has put you through, but I need you to know, I love you, I cherish you, and you are such an amazing person, I'll always be here for you. You know that, right?”. He lifts his head up with a solemn look on his face but adoration in his eyes and says “You're the best thing I could have ever wished for, baby bat. Thank you for all that you do for me. Now, that creepy ass book filled with clowns and orgies awaits us!” punctuating his words by thrusting his arm in the air as if in triumph, and with that you continue on, reading until you start to hear his breathing even out and soon your words become replaced by his soft snores.