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dearviper · 1 year

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𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗲 | dark-ish!joel miller x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | when you don't have enough rations to get your fix, you have to find something else to trade

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | a bit under 5k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | dubious consent SMUT (18+ only; unprotected sex, oral m receiving, creampie, sex as currency), orgasm control, slapping, choking, spanking, very dirty talk including degradation (slut, whore, etc.), possessiveness, discussions/threats of anal but no actual anal, just a touch of daddy kink and sir kink, implied age gap but not specified, joel is a lil mean but in a sexy way, reader is a pill user/addict

(gif originally by @joelmjller tumblr absolutely refused to show it in gif search)

You chewed your nails nervously as you watched him walk up to your usual spot; you tried to act casual, but the more of this stuff you got, the more you needed it— and the more you needed, the harder it was to act casual when you knew it was coming.

“You got the stuff?” you asked quickly, giving your anxiousness away.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “you got the rations?”

You didn’t respond, even with a nod, you just pulled the stack of papers out of your pocket and handed them over. Your foot tapped on the ground— a little tacky, mud’s still drying from the storm two days ago— as he flipped through them.

It’s hard to say what you expected. Like he’d forget how to count or something? “This isn’t enough,” he informed you flatly, looking up from the stack to shoot you a glare.

“C’mon, Joel, be cool,” you whimpered, “so I’m a little short—”

“A little short?” he repeated. “This is less than half what you owe me.”

“Less than half? That’s fourteen— your prices went up?” you wondered.

“No,” he shook his head, seeming frustrated, “what you owe for today plus what you owe from when I spotted you for last week’s fix—”

“Fuck,” you groaned, “I forgot, I’m sorry— but you know I’m good for it.”

He tried to hand the ration cards back to you, and you bit your lip to stop it from shaking.

“I need this, Joel— you know I need this,” you began to ramble, but he stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder. Looking him in the eyes, you cowered a bit just from how intense his stare was.

“You need to get it together, kid,” he warned you, but you were only halfway paying attention.

“M’not a kid,” you defended yourself quietly, though your mind was already somewhere else as your eyes on the hand holding your shoulder. "I'm low on rations," you admitted, "but I can get you something else."

He gave you a confused look, until you reached forward and rested a hand gently on his chest, through the heavy dark green jacket he wore. Then he understood, and gave you a disappointed look. "I don't do that."

"Do what, relax? Take some time for yourself?" you pressed, letting your teeth catch your bottom lip slightly. His eyes did linger on your mouth for a moment, and you hoped this was working. "How long's it been since you got some?"

"Not that long," he said defensively, letting go of your shoulder, but you stepped closer to him and kept sizing him up.

"How long's it been since you got whatever you wanted?"

That seemed to get his attention a bit better. "You can't just say that— you can't just offer that," he corrected firmly. "You say that to the wrong creep trying to get extra cigarettes or something and you end up—"

"M'not saying it to anybody else, Joel," you promised, "this is just for you— I never traded something like this before, but, you know… we go back, and I trust you."

He raised an eyebrow at you. "Can I trust you?"

Smiling, you pressed your body up against his; he stiffened up— not in the way you were hoping, either— but didn't stop you. "Trust me how? What would I do?"

"I dunno," he muttered.

"I think the better question is, Joel," you lowered your voice as you looked at him through your lashes, "do you think I'm pretty?"

He scoffed, but you saw right through it. He was trying to tell himself he was better than this, that he needed the rations more, that you weren't worth the trouble. But his neck flexed and you knew you were in.

"Honestly, you'd be doing me a favor," you shrugged, standing up on your tiptoes so you could whisper in his ear: "I always wanted to suck your cock."

"Goddamnit," he hissed, and you thought he was about to throw you off when he grabbed your arm. Instead, he started to walk and guide you with him. "Not here."

He took you, eventually, to his room— it was much more spacious than most, especially yours, and you wondered what you'd have to do to get to spend a night here.

A second later, he pulled you into him; his hands ran up your back, and you smiled as he pressed against you. "Lemme see you first, baby, lemme see you," he whispered, helping you out of your shirt and sighing as he grabbed handfuls of your tits.

Your hands, meanwhile, rubbed the front of his jeans— but he wasn't hard yet, at least not much. Not until he unbuckled your pants and pushed them down along with your underwear, immediately groping your bare ass with a sigh.

"Got a nice ass," he decided, jiggling it briefly with his hand— and before you could react to that, he slipped that hand around and cupped your pussy with it, sliding one finger between the seam of your lips.

"Fuck, Joel," you whispered, reeling a bit from how sudden it all was.

But then it stopped— just as instantly as it had started— and he sat down on the couch. "Well?" he prompted after you just stood there dumbfounded for a moment.

He kept his legs spread wide, and put his hands up behind his head as he leaned back. Why was that so hot?

Swallowing, you got down on your knees between his, running your hands up his denim-covered legs for just a moment before finding his belt.

He let you do the work, opening the buckle and sliding the leather out, reaching into the fly and pulling out—

Fuck, he was big. Thick as hell, a fat head with a vein running up the side… you let your mouth water, knowing it would make this easier, and held his shaft tight as you began to lean forward.

"Hey," he said suddenly, making you stop for a second. "You better make it good for me, or no pills."

Looking up at him and hoping your eyes didn't give your nervousness away, you nodded. He smiled, and leaned back to really sink into the couch.

You started with just a few gentle, teasing licks to the tip, one right over his slit, and his only reaction was adjusting his leg a bit. Taking the head in your mouth, you suckled carefully, letting excess spit run down until it collided with your hand at his base.

It wasn't until he started to get harder in your mouth that you realized he wasn't fully hard before. You knew he was hard enough and thought maybe that was where it capped out for a man his age— no, clearly not, and you felt your hand struggle to wrap fully around his girth as he grew even more.

Trying to sink your lips down further, you had to open up your jaw like you never had before; it wasn't painful per se, but it was an odd feeling, and your lips were a little dry to be stretched this far…

You took him deeper until the tip kissed your throat, and you started to really get into the rhythm of it as your hand stroked what was left in time with the bobbing of your head.

Just when you thought you'd found the pattern and pace that would take you to the end of this, you were interrupted. He smiled a little, and a hand grabbed your shoulder suddenly and tightly; you froze. "Slow, baby, slow," he reminded you. "There's no rush, okay?"

You nodded a bit, still holding him in your mouth, and resumed— much more careful with your speed this time.

"Better," he praised, letting go of your shoulder and getting comfortable on the sofa again.

You kept the same motions, but tried not to get too lost in it— letting your tongue lick and taste, trying to really treat him so you wouldn't get corrected again.

It was a struggle to get much deeper, not just for your throat but for your lips and jaw forced wide open. Still, you worked to warm yourself up, taking your time as he'd encouraged you to.

For a while, he didn't react much, though he did watch you very closely. The first thing he did to show he was really here was brush some hair away from your face, tilting your face back slightly in the process.

"Look up at me," he whispered, "there you go… pretty eyes…"

It made your chest warm and your pussy tingle for just a second; his stare was intense, you struggled to keep eye contact with him looking at you like that.

He held your head and started to move his hips a bit, gently sliding his cock in and out of your mouth— just an inch at first, and he held you still while he did what he wanted with you. "Pretty lips," he continued, running his thumb over them, tracing the shape your mouth was forced into by his cock. "Use that tongue, baby, I told you to make it good for me."

Humming in agreement-meets-apology, you ran your tongue firmly along the underside of his cock as he moved in your mouth.

That went on for a while until your jaw was fucking killing you and you had to take a break; even with his hands on your hair he let you pull yourself off, though the look on his face did show some confusion and disappointment.

That all changed when he realized what you were doing. He smiled at you— a dark, yet amused, grin— as you sunk deeper between his legs to lick his balls. They were heavy in your mouth, and a little salty with his sweat; the mix of dark and grey hairs rubbed roughly on your tongue. "That's cute," he informed you, running his fingers over your cheek for a moment. You weren't sure if that was the word you would use for this, but you didn't disagree because your mouth was full.

You switched to the other one, closing your eyes while you really savored it, tracing the shape of them with the tip of your tongue before sucking them carefully into your mouth.

He moaned when you did that, and you opened your eyes. He looked so fucking good like this, eyes shut and head fallen back and his hands tightening into fists at his side. "That's nice, keep going," he encouraged, suddenly grabbing your hair when you sucked even harder on the bulb in your mouth. But he didn't try to stop you, or guide you, he just kept it there and hissed in a breath through his teeth as you continued.

When your jaw had had enough of a break you tried to get right back to it, but he shoved your face back between his legs and groaned.

"Not yet," he snapped, "keep licking my balls— fuck, like that… so dirty, baby…"

When it was time for you to stop that and get back to the main event, he made it pretty clear; he pushed your head back and shoved his cock into your mouth, groaning lowly as he let go and let you get back to it. He seemed to like how eager you were now, not stopping you to slow you down like before.

You twisted your hand around him, because everything was plenty slippery enough to do that, as you bobbed your head; obscene slurping noises filled the room and you felt like a proper whore now, spoiling him with the absolute best head you had to offer, using your mouth to pleasure him until you couldn't remember any other purpose for it.

After a few minutes of that, he yanked you off of his cock by your hair, making you gasp and blink up at him. "Is it good, daddy?" you asked with a smile.

He slapped you quickly on the cheek, and you yelped a bit as your face spun to the side. But you moaned, too. "You like that?" he realized.

"Yeah," you sighed, "unless you don't want me to."

He laughed breathlessly. "No, it's hot— you're such a whore, baby, keep sucking…"

He guided you back, pushing his cock onto your tongue with just his thumb until you could wrap your lips around him again and continue your work.

"Fuck yeah," he sighed, head falling back again.

With each bob of your head, you took him a little deeper— deeper, deeper, until the tip breached your throat and he moaned loudly as you gagged.

"Yeah, choke on it," he encouraged, "show me what you can do— fuck, baby…"

Deeper, deeper, until his whole head was past the back of your throat and you fought the urge to swallow, knowing you'd have to start all over.

"Shit, that's good," he mumbled. "Really fucking good…"

You took him deeper still, until all of a sudden your lips were at his base and his dick was further than you ever thought possible.

"Oh fuck," he moaned, stroking your hair, "you— fuck, baby, that throat… you've got a fucking talent, kid."

You did not expect to get wet from him calling you that… maybe it's just because you never thought he'd say it in a time like this. But it made your thighs clench together and your hips shift.

"No wonder this is what you wanted to do, huh? Wanted to show me your little party trick, take my cock down your fuckin' throat?" he snarled. "Bet you do this all the fucking time, a blowjob for a fix or more rations or something else you want…"

You shook your head, and he laughed a bit.

"No? You're a good girl?"

You nodded, moaning around him.

"Then what are you doing blowing me for pills, huh? Is that what good girls do?"

You shook your head, but he pulled you off by your hair again.

"Say it," he ordered. "Is that what good girls do, suck cock for drugs?"

"No," you answered.

"No sir," he corrected.

"No, sir," you repeated, heat pooling between your legs until you worried you'd drip on his floor.

"Keep sucking, slut," he ordered, putting you back in your place literally and figuratively. "Show me what a bad girl you are— yeah, fuck, show me how you use that whore mouth, fuck—"

You struggled to get back into your pace when he was holding your head, moving you the way he wanted. Unlike before, he was speeding you up, faster and faster until he was basically just fucking your mouth. You did your best to use your hand, but eventually just gave up and kept your throat open, letting him use you however he liked.

"Gonna come in that pretty mouth," he promised, biting his lip for a moment. "Fuck, gonna fill that little mouth— don't swallow it 'til I say so."

You tried to nod, but your movements were controlled by him now; you felt his cock flex and pulse, and you shut your eyes in anticipation of it.

"No, fuck, keep them open," he pleaded, "look up at me while I come— yes, fuck, fuck!"

As he came, you sighed through your nose with relief. You were already thinking about getting that baggy of pills, about how deliciously high you were gonna be tonight, all because you did this. It took longer than you expected, but it was relatively painless— except for your jaw, and your throat, and your cheek, and your knees…

"Show me," he ordered, and you opened your mouth to carefully pool his spend on your tongue. "Mm," he hummed proudly when you displayed it all for him, holding your chin so he could turn your face either way and get a good look at what he'd done to you.

It was humiliating, sort of, and yet you felt proud of yourself when he looked at you like that.

"Good, baby, you can swallow now," he offered, and you did so quickly— but it didn't quite get the taste off your tongue.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you were about to try to stand up, maybe thank him for letting you do this instead of paying for the pills, but you realized this wasn't over yet just by the way he was looking at you.

"Come up here," he encouraged, patting his thigh and smiling down at you. "Let's see what else you can do."

With shaky knees, you stood up and took your pants off from around your ankles, climbing up to straddle his lap. "Are we really gonna—?"

He interrupted you by grabbing your hips and already starting to give commands. "Over here, baby, like this— there you go…"

He had you right where he needed you in order to guide his cock up to your hole and slide you down onto him. From the second his tip breached your opening, you gasped.

"Tight fuckin' pussy," he grunted, his top lip curling in a snarl for just a second.

He kept pushing you down until your inner thighs were pressed to his jeans, and he watched you shiver as his cock stirred places deep inside you— too deep, you'd thought before, for a cock to reach.

"Go ahead," he instructed, "ride."

You lifted yourself up and down, whimpering as his thick cock stretched you; it was taking you longer than you expected to adjust to it, but you almost didn't want to…

"Too big?" he wondered with a smug smirk.

"I-I can take it," you said, not sounding especially confident.

"You do this a lot?" he interrogated. "Ride big cocks?"

"No," you promised, "I don't— fuck…"

He laughed a little, and moved you so you had to pick up your pace a bit. You had to hold onto the couch to keep your balance as a wavering moan jumped from your lips. "Feels good, baby? Feels nice and thick, givin' that pussy a stretch?" he taunted.

"Yeah," you panted, "feels good."

"Who feels good?"

"You— Joel, it's you, you feel so good, you feel so fucking good," you babbled pathetically, moving faster again. He moved your hands from the back of the couch to his shoulders, before putting his grip back on your hips.

"Keep riding, baby," he instructed, "keep riding my cock, yeah, like that…"

Your head fell back and a low groan slid from your throat. "Joel," you moaned, "fuck, so deep…"

"You know I had to use this whole pussy, baby, every inch," he grinned. "Of course I'm deep— it's all mine, isn't it? I can go as deep as I want."

"Yeah," you breathed, nodding.

"I can go as hard as I want," he continued.

"Yes!"

"I can go as slow as I want," he added, laughing when you whined at the way he forced your pace to slow down again. "What's the rush, baby? Why are you always trying to get it over with? I know you fucking like it."

He held your face for just a second before he slapped it— then he did it again, again… just when you thought he'd never stop slapping you, he did, only to move his hand down to wrap around your neck

"Shit, you like that too?" he grinned, massaging your neck so hard that it already made your head spin. You nodded.

He tightened his grip until your gasp was cut short and you were totally at his mercy, static filling your brain.

"That's it— fuck, you get really tight when I choke you," he noticed when he let go, and you coughed a little but moaned impatiently. "You want more? Shit… fucking slut."

He choked you again, your hips struggling to keep up the pace when all the air was gone; but that didn't seem to bother him much, if anything he liked seeing you struggle.

Still, he kept one hand on your hips to guide you, occasionally exploring with it so he could rub your thigh or play with your tits. It made you more aware that he'd never even taken his boots off while you were fully nude, grinding in his lap while he just sat back and watched you. You felt so inferior; why did it feel so good?

"Joel," you gasped when his roaming hand rubbed over your clit briefly. He smirked.

"Here, baby?" he teased, drawing the gentlest circles on your bud. "Want me to play with your little pussy, that's what you need?"

"Yes, fuck, please," you begged, but your words were cut short when the hand on your neck tightened again. He rubbed your clit hard, but you couldn't scream while he choked you, and your whole body felt like it was filled with pressure as he fucked up into you off the couch.

"Fuck, you soak me every damn time I choke you," he noticed; his voice was the only one in the room now with your moans silenced, and yet he sounded so far away past the ringing in your ears.

When he let go, you breathed in a deep gasp and moaned much louder than you meant to.

"Bounce on it, come on," he encouraged roughly, smacking your ass to kick you back into gear; you held on tight to his shoulders and swirled your hips, moaning shamelessly now at the feeling of his cock filling your sensitive pussy.

"Joel," you sobbed, "fuck, I— so good, I wanna— oh god—"

He slapped you one more time to get you back to your senses. "What's that, baby?" he pressed.

"I— I— fuck," you stammered, unable to get any other words out. I'm gonna come if you don't stop. But he didn't need to hear you say it, he already knew.

"You want more?" he grunted, watching your face closely. "You want more, baby? Say it."

Another hard slap to the face seemed to fix the part of your brain that makes words, and you spoke more coherently. "I want more," you whined, "fuck me harder, Joel, I want it!"

He grabbed you by your fucking neck and threw you off of him, onto the couch, with a sneer. As he shoved your head down and yanked your hips up, you arched your back to get yourself in position for him; but instead he smacked your ass hard and your back jolted up the other way.

"Slut," he scolded roughly, giving the other cheek a spank next.

You nodded against the couch. "I am, I am," you admitted with a sigh.

"Fucking dirty slut," he repeated, getting up on his knees to clumsily guide his cock to your hole; and you both groaned when he slipped in. "God," he choked, fucking you fast and deep right away, "so fuckin' tight— no baby, no no—"

He shoved your lower back down again when it tried to arch up, a natural response to his cock hitting the deepest parts of you. You yelped each time, a sharp pang in your gut with every thrust, but he fucked you as hard and deep as he wanted regardless.

"S'better— keep it like this, show me that ass," he ordered roughly as his gaze went back and forth from your twisted face of pain to his cock slamming into your cunt. "Good girl."

Even when it was getting battered to all fuck, your pussy managed to give him a nice squeeze when he said that.

"Real cute ass, too," he added, and you jumped a bit when his thumb brushed over your other hole. "Should I fuck it?"

"Joel," you gasped, not answering his question.

"Do you want me to?"

After hesitating, you shook your head.

"No?" he pressed.

"No," you admitted in a pout.

"Ask me not to," he ordered.

"Don't… don't fuck my ass, Joel, please…" you obliged, not sure if he was taunting you before he did it anyways or what. You both knew that you were in no position to stop him.

"What's that? You don't want it?"

"No, Joel, please! Not there!" you pleaded again, a little more emphatically.

"So I can't?"

You hesitated again. "You can… I just don't want you to," you relented, and he laughed.

"Don't worry, baby, I'm not gonna," he promised. "Pussy's too good. You're just cute when you're scared."

You couldn't say if that was true, but one thing you did discover was that you came faster when you were scared; it was already reaching the point of no return, that feeling deep inside. It was building faster than you could handle it, like he was forcing the pleasure to overtake your body— like your body obeyed him before you now. "God, fuck, fuck—" you choked out weakly, starting to shake all over.

"Close?" he noticed, and you nodded. "Not 'til I say so."

"Fuck, Joel, c'mon," you whined, getting another spank for your insolence.

"Not 'til I fuckin' say so," he insisted, speaking through his teeth as he kept a bruising grip on your hips. "Better not fuckin' come until I say, got it? Or you're not getting your pills."

"Okay, okay," you panted, "not gonna come unless you let me… I'll come when you say, just please…"

He chuckled a little, making you whimper in the back of your throat when he angled his hips to push his cock as absolutely deep as you could go; you'd never gotten a stomach ache from sex before, but he was churning everything inside you and making your whole body his plaything. Was that why he was going to make you wait to come? To make sure you knew how easily he owned you?

'Cause then it wasn't really necessary; you already knew, it was obvious.

"Good girl," he praised again, and you shivered all over; he fucked you harder, keeping up a ruthless pace, and you knew he was close.

At least, you hoped he was close, 'cause you weren't sure how much more of this you could take.

"Whose is this, baby?" he asked in a rough voice.

"Yours, yours," you promised with a whimper, "s'all yours, daddy, everything— s'all for you."

"Damn right," he grunted in agreement. "You're mine, baby— my whore, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah," you agreed fervently, "fuck I'm gonna come, Joel, please… please let me—"

"Come, whore."

He groaned as it hit you— he must have felt it— and you made a sound you were pretty sure you'd never made before as your fingers clung tightly to the cushion under you.

His pace faltered and you were so lost in your ecstasy that you didn't even question it… until he slowed down to a near stop, grunting weakly with every stuttered thrust into you.

"Oh god," he moaned, "that was good."

When you realized, it was far too late. "Shit, fuck!" you spat. "You came inside?!"

"You said 'whatever I wanted'," he recalled, not seeming to feel very guilty for what he'd done.

"I said I wanted to blow you," you remembered, starting to sober up very quickly, "and you fucked me— and you fucking came inside, asshole, what the fuck am I gonna do if—"

His grip tightened on your neck again, and you stopped. "Quit fucking whining or I'll give you another load," he warned, letting go of your neck a second later and finally pulling out.

You swallowed, awkwardly laying your sore hips down on the couch. "You could… really do that? You already came twice."

"I lied— it has been that long," he admitted. "And with a tight pussy like this to fuck?"

He looked over at you, grabbing your thigh and lifting it so he could see his come leaking from your abused hole.

"Yeah, I could go again," he assured you, patting your ass gently after he let it drop back down. "You'd have to suck me for a while though, get me hard again…"

You sat up, slowly, and found more soreness in your muscles than you expected. "How many pills would I get? If I did that?"

He looked at you and smirked. "Whatever you want, baby," he promised, and you absent-mindedly licked your lips. He laughed as you leaned forward, getting on your knees beside him so you could put your head down in his lap. "Really? You were just bitching at me, figured you'd wanna leave and go shower so you could wash all that come out, try not to get knocked up."

You lifted his softening cock up to your lips, suckling at the tip and humming at the taste of yourself on his skin.

"But you wanna blow me again, huh?" he continued, voice raspier as he pet the back of your head. "Wanna get me hard so I can fuck that come back into you?"

You didn't respond to his question, just started to find your rhythm again until you heard him moan lowly as you sucked.

"Damn, baby… gonna get all the pills you want…" he mumbled his promises. "Gonna be my little whore, right? Gonna take care of daddy?"

Shutting your eyes tight, you hummed around him; this was far from over— this was never gonna be over. This was the new normal. At least you could keep your rations… hopefully.

"Yeah, that's what I thought…"

#my recs #jesus christ #this is so goddamn hot #respectfully #and also disrespectfully #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

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dearviper · 1 year

Text

When You Wake Up, Will You Walk Out? Chapter 8

Eddie Munson x Cheerleader!Reader (note: reader is over the age of 18)

WARNINGS: 18+ (minors dni!)

Table of Contents | My Masterlist | AO3 Link

The Hideaway was as much of a dingy dive bar as you had expected. Your Keds clung to whatever substance coated the floor. A sticky pop accompanied each step you took.

Smoke clouded the air in the bar. The haze it cast combined with the heady feeling of each inhale made you feel as though you were walking in a dream.

Shaking your head to steady yourself, you took in the room around you. The crowd was buzzing with an electric energy, due in no small part to the bartender’s blind eye to the age of the patrons.

You were surprised by just how many teenagers were there. Though you knew the bands were comprised solely of high schoolers, the event wasn’t school-sanctioned and the drinking age was still very much 21.

You supposed the owners didn’t look too closely at IDs and feigned ignorance, but it was almost laughable how young some of the patrons were.

A couple of Eddie’s D&D disciples, kids who were no older than 14 or 15, were huddled together. With the skittish, uncertain looks on their faces, they reminded you of a herd of deer. They didn’t seem to be drinking, though, and so you turned your attention back to the task at hand.

As your eyes roved over the rest of the venue, they landed on the small stage and a doorway beside it. Supposing that was the backstage area for the bands, you made your way there and peaked through.

Suddenly, a meaty hand landed on your shoulder. You whirled around to face one of the largest men you had ever seen.

“Backstage is for bands only.”

“I’m with Corroded Coffin,” you lied immediately.

The bouncer took in your bright cheerleading uniform and gave you a skeptical look.

“I highly doubt that, sweetheart. No groupies until after the show.”

You bristled at being called a “groupie,” but nodded and sulked away.

It was probably for the best, anyway. You didn’t want to disturb Eddie before he had a chance to perform; if things went south, you’d be sabotaging his chances.

You retreated to the front of the bar, away from the small stage.

About to sit down, you paused when the merch table caught your eye. Remembering something Eddie had said the last time you saw him, you dug for your wallet and headed over.

Eddie tried to keep himself distracted leading up to the concert and failed miserably. It seemed a simple enough goal, but in the end his thoughts always drifted back to you.

During soundcheck he had at least been able to focus on tuning his guitar and warming up his voice, but the current chatter of his bandmates was mere background noise to his misery.

This is fucking pathetic, man, he mentally chastised himself. One of the biggest nights in your music career, and all you can think about is some girl.

But you weren’t just some girl, were you? That was the problem. You were the girl — his girl.

Or at least you should be.

He couldn’t shake the memory of the inscrutable look on your face after Jason kissed you. You seemed surprised, obviously, but beyond that he couldn’t gauge your feelings.

“Eddie, you okay, man?” Jeff asked. He was far more intuitive than most boys his age, and Eddie had trouble hiding his feelings from him.

Waving his friend’s concern away, Eddie smiled reassuringly. “Just a little stage fright, I guess.”

Jeff paused, giving Eddie a skeptical look. The two boys shared a silent understanding; they both knew Eddie wasn’t the type to get stage fright, meaning they both knew Eddie was lying.

Still, Jeff had the grace to leave well enough alone, and so he slowly nodded.

“You got performance anxiety, Munson?” Gareth quipped with a shit-eating grin, unaware of what had passed between his bandmates. Jeff elbowed him sharply, eliciting an involuntary oof. “It was a joke!”

He turned to Eddie with a look of exasperation and repeated himself. “It was a joke. You know that, don’t you, Eddie?”

“You’re a joke,” he replied, chucking his guitar pick at Gareth, who dodged it easily and yelled an irritated, “Hey!”

“Serves you right,” Jeff taunted, laughing for only a second before Gareth rammed into him.

Eddie shared a look of mild amusement with Freak as the boys grappled.

Turning back, he said, “Why don’t you spare my poor nerves and break each other’s arms after the show?”

Gareth shoved Jeff off of him with a grin. “Fine by me. I won anyway.”

“Did not!”

The two made to attack each other again and Eddie groaned internally. He thanked his lucky stars the other bands had already cleared out to the main portion of the bar so no one saw the childish display.

“Boys!” Eddie shouted, clapping loudly to get their attention. “We only have to get through three songs and then you can kick the shit out of each other. Can you behave until then?”

Each muttered a sullen “yes” at the scolding.

“Beautiful!” He hopped up, grinning with genuine excitement for the first time that night. “Let’s rock and roll.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Battle of the Bands!” the emcee howled into the mic with a grin, eliciting a round of woos from the intoxicated audience. “We’ve got a great line up for you tonight. Before we bring the first band on, I’m gonna explain quickly how voting works…”

You tuned out his voice, taking a sip of your water. The bartender had given you a funny look, surprised by the fact that you weren’t taking advantage of the lax rules like every other teen in the place.

Normally you’d be joining them, but you wanted to stay sharp tonight. You only had one chance to make things right with Eddie, and you didn’t want to squander it by being tipsy during your apology.

“Get ready for one hell of a show! Our first band is from Hawkins. Give it up for Corroded Coffin!”

Your breath caught when your eyes landed on Eddie. It was the first time you had seen him since your confrontation at the high school, and he was… beautiful.

With his wild hair and kohl eyeliner smudged around his eyes, he looked like one of the rock gods he admired. Even as your anxiety churned your stomach, desire filled you at the sight of him.

Barely acknowledging the crowd, the band members nodded to each other before launching into their first song. The bass boomed throughout the already-deafening sounds of the crowd.

You could feel its pulse thundering through your bones and rewriting the rhythm of your heartbeat as Eddie glanced up and met your gaze.

Or so you thought — his eyes slid away seconds later without any sign of recognition.

Camouflaged by the crowd and the shadowy corner your table was in, you realized you were invisible from the stage. You stood up slowly and trailed over behind a few rows of other concert-goers.

Mustering your courage, you started to move forward as Corroded Coffin wrapped up their first song.

Pausing only a moment for applause they went right into the second song, another thrashing headbanger.

Emboldened by the knowledge that Eddie was too enraptured to notice you mid-song, you moved through the crowd until you were only a few feet from the stage.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” Eddie grinned into the mic as the song ended, barely audible over the roar of the crowd.

Eddie proceeded to introduce his bandmates to the audience, but you could only focus on him. He looked happy. Was that just for show? Or was he truly fine? Were you more broken up about how you left things than he was?

I shouldn’t have come here, you lamented internally, feeling your cheeks burn with shame.

You should have just let him move on with his life. You should have accepted that you fucked things up beyond repair. You should’ve-

“For this last song we’re gonna-”

Eddie’s voice caught in his throat, and this time you knew that his eyes had finally found yours. Meekly, you waved and mouthed hi, watching as his eyes dropped to the shirt you were wearing — the Corroded Coffin shirt you had just purchased from the merch table.

His expression changed infinitesimally, but you couldn’t tell what this new emotion playing across his face was.

“Um,” he started again, clearing his throat and flashing the crowd another grin. “For this last song we’re gonna slow things down a bit.”

His eyes returned once more to you as he gave a soft smile before Corroded Coffin began to play a ballad. It was a song you’d heard him singing to himself before when he thought you weren’t listening.

Eddie’s eyes stayed glued on you as he sang, and the heat in your cheeks shifted from embarrassment to something else entirely.

Time both froze and sped up, and before you knew it the song was over and he was addressing the audience again, thanking them for coming and encouraging them to vote for Corroded Coffin.

With a final glance at you, Eddie waved to the audience and left the stage with his bandmates.

You didn’t hesitate at all before following him backstage.

It took you a little longer to make it back there, as you practically had to fight your way through the rowdy crowd.

You burst unthinkingly through the door, interrupting the ongoing conversation among Corroded Coffin as all four boys turned to look at you.

“Give us a few minutes, guys,” Eddie dismissed them, shooting an irritated look at Gareth as they exited.

When Eddie turned back to face you, his expression turned to weary trepidation. As his eyes fell back on your outfit, though, his face softened.

“You’re wearing our shirt.”

“I wanted to support my favorite band,” you said with a small smile, making him roll his eyes.

“Laying it on a little thick there,” he snorted. “I, uh… I didn’t expect you to come.”

“Yeah, um, I wanted to talk to you.”

The trepidation returned to his eyes, but he pulled up a chair and gestured for you to speak.

“I’m not getting back together with Jason,” you blurted out. The only reaction he showed was a slight raise of his brows.

“Ah. What a shame.”

“Eddie, I don’t want to get back together with Jason.”

“No? Why’s that?” He tried to sound uncaring, but the tremble in his voice betrayed him.

“Because I don’t love Jason.”

You took one hesitant step toward him, and then another.

“I love someone else. But I’m afraid.”

You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nervously. “Of what?”

“That it’s too late,” you whispered, forcing your voice not to crack. “That I messed up and he’s done with me. That he- that you don’t want me anymore.”

“I…” he faltered, swallowing harshly. “I’m always gonna want you. But I don’t want to be your backup boyfriend.”

You shook your head harshly at the thought. “No, you’re not- you’re not the backup, not in the slightest.”

Needing him to believe you, you stepped closer and took his hands into your own.

“Eddie, I was too stupid to realize it before but… he’s nothing to me. Not anymore. And you… you’re everything.” Shameful, remorseful tears were falling down your face. “And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you were anything less than that because you’re the most wonderful person I know and I… I love you, Eddie.”

He stared at you with wide eyes.

“You… me?” Eddie asked in vulnerable doubt, forgoing the fearful verb entirely.

“I love you,” you repeated forcefully, squeezing his hands for emphasis. “More than I’ve ever loved anyone. More than anything.”

You choked on the last word as you brought your palm to his cheek, gently stroking his face. “So please just- just give me another chance.”

In the silence that followed, you could hear your pulse pounding in your ears. He didn’t say anything for a long time, and your heart sunk as you waited for inevitable rejection.

“Say it again,” he ordered in a low tone, eyes dropping to your lips.

“What?”

“Say it. Again.” His gaze was severe and locked on you.

Licking your lips, you murmured, “I love you, Eddie.”

“Again,” he demanded more desperately, hands coming up to rest on your waist. “Please.”

“I love you,” you repeated yourself, lips forming an uncertain smile at his reaction. “I love you so much.”

He let out a faltering, unbelieving breath but otherwise said nothing. Furrowing your brows, you pulled back a bit to look at him.

“So…” you prompted, trying to keep the apprehension out of your voice. “Do you… will you give me another chance?”

Eddie’s gaze softened with affection. Reaching out, he tugged the edge of your skirt to bring you in closer.

“Y’ever hear that old Isley Brothers song, ‘This Old Heart of Mine’?” Eddie asked.

“What’s that got to do-”

“Wayne used to play it a ton. There’s a line that’s like-”

He paused, glancing at the ceiling as if the lyrics were written there before starting to sing.

“But if you leave me a hundred times, a hundred times I’ll take you back.” His voice cracked on the last few words and you giggled as he grinned bashfully. “Cut me some slack, sweetheart, I was just screaming on stage for 20 minutes.”

“But the point still stands,” he continued as he pulled you against his chest. Reaching out a finger, he tilted your chin up so your eyes met his. “I’m all yours. I’ll always be yours.”

You let out a grateful whimper, surging forward to press your lips against his.

“Thank you,” you whispered between each kiss to his lips, his nose, his cheeks. “Thank you.”

Eddie’s arms wound around your back, crushing you against his chest. Face buried in the crook of his neck, you inhaled deeply and took in that scent that had become home to you.

“Do you wanna go back out there with the guys?” you asked into his shoulder, feeling him shake his head as soon as the words left your mouth.

“In a bit, I just… let’s just stay like this for a while.”

You nodded, pressing a kiss into his neck and finding his hand with your own. Intertwining your fingers with his, you sighed and relaxed into the warmth of his body.

Jason, the jocks, the cheerleaders… They could talk and sneer behind your back, but you found you no longer minded. None of them mattered now.

The only person who mattered now was the boy standing before you, forgiving you and loving you. The boy whose shirt you wore, the boy whose concert you were at, and the boy whose hand you would gladly hold as long as he would let you.

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #stranger things #when you wake up will you walk out?

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