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sirensarecallingmehome · 2 years

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𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one | part two | part three | part four

summary you’re a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. queue the movies, nachos, cherry cough syrup, and a couple of moments of clarity. [10k]

warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie’s birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!! tw sick fic

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Eddie has the most peculiar curl tucked up by his neck. Where most are frizzy and loose, this one falls in a perfect shiny ringlet below his ear. He shifts and it's out of view, a curtain of dark hair falling forward and hiding his face as he puts your car in park.

"Remind me why you had to drive?" you ask, ducking down to look at the glaring white lights of the movie theatre across the street.

"You were gonna fall asleep behind the wheel."

For once, Eddie might not be exaggerating. He grins at your lack of rebuttal and throws an arm behind your shoulders, twisting in the driver's seat to set his sights on Junie.

"Are you ready?" he asks her.

She wiggles. It's an ecstatic movement. Her clothes are prim and sweet if you do say so yourself, a long sleeved shirt under a pair of the world's cutest dungarees. They crinkle as she moves, pressed to perfection.

You and Eddie open opposite doors in tandem and step out into the brisk, early night. The sidewalk shines with rain, a black slickness stretching in every direction. You shiver and pull your thin jacket tighter to your torso as you turn back to the car, intending to retrieve Junie and rush into the theatre before you can freeze on the spot.

Eddie's already swung open the door and rescued your daughter from the confines of her car seat, neatening up the hem of one of her socks with her face pushed over his shoulder.

She giggles about something and Eddie says, "Sorry, June. 'M tickling you, am I?" so fondly you have to avert your eyes.

He locks the car and hands over your keys with a smile. You smile back, heart flipping like a spinning coin. Head over tails, over and over.

The big, ring-heavy hand he holds to Junie's back reaches for you suddenly enough that you flinch.

"I'm sorry," he apologises, suppressing a laugh, "your necklace is twisted."

He moves in a second time and you raise your chin, chest aflame as his fingers glance off of your bare skin. He slips the chain over his index and pulls, encouraging the links around until the clasp is hidden again.

"Thank you." You huff an awkward, sheepish laugh.

"You owe me," he says, mock-severe.

Your laugh is much more genuine as you follow him across the road.

You're squinting as you approach The Hawk movie theatre. The title cards are hard to look at, aggressively white with black capital letters that read, 'The Great Mouse Detective 7'.

There's a small line of families waiting by the front. You realise it like a shock, that the three of you must look like a family too.

Eddie carries Junie with the surety of a dad that's carried his child a hundred times before; he strokes the back of her head with the affection of one, soothing the mess of flyaways she'd acquired by squirming in her car seat. Junie responds with familiarity, hands tucked into his hair and tugging. She's trying to be nice but his hair won't allow it, all his long curls tangled at the ends from a day at work.

Still, he says, "Thanks, baby. Make sure you get the back, okay?"

"Okay," she echoes.

You look down at your wringing hands. There's ink smudged up the side of your writing hand. You scratch at it half-heartedly, blinking against your fatigue.

You're exhausted tonight and it's only Wednesday. You can't imagine how you'll fare tomorrow considering how little sleep you're expecting tonight — there are a thousand things to do when you get home. Laundry to wash and press, cleaning to do, dinner to make.

You'd been writing cheques for due bills when Eddie had come knocking, well-dressed, stupid-handsome, and announced that tonight you would be accompanying him to the movies. He'd actually said 'accompanying'.

Despite a full agenda, you'd said yes. You're not very good at saying no. At least, not to him.

It takes you a moment to realise you're at the front of the line. You pay for the tickets before Eddie can try it, and with his hands full he can't really stop you. He whines about it all the way to the concession stand.

"You can buy the snacks," you say. His face lights up, and you amend, "If you're reasonable."

"I'm always reasonable…ly over the top," he says, chided by your hard stare.

"Yes, you are."

He follows you down the two steps to the concession and cuts in front of you. "How did you do that? What face was that? I felt my soul leave my body."

"That's my disapproving mom look. I'm disapproving."

"Ah." He pats Junie's side sympathetically.

She pulls her head from over his shoulder and smiles at you. Her arms vy for your hold. You steal her from Eddie and kiss her all over her tiny face, uplifted by how much she loves you, how happy she is to be in your arms.

"What snacks do you want? Do you eat popcorn with butter? Without?" Eddie asks, his newly emptied arms already posed thoughtfully, a hand under his chin as he thinks over his options.

The theatre has a huge array of jellies, an even bigger array of candy bars. There are more brands of soda than there are glasses in your kitchen cabinet.

You're daunted.

"Whatever you want," you say.

Eddie groans and tips his head back. "Don't play with me like this. Butter or no butter? It's an easy question."

"I don't know. Without?"

"You are so weird," he says happily.

You pout and pull Junie closer.

Standing at the side while he gathers concessions, too many things, you watch in awe as Eddie stacks it all against his chest with the sure confidence of someone who's done it before.

He grins at you from between two huge cups. "Are we ready?"

If you could, you'd leave him here in the foyer with his jumbo deluxe popcorn. As it stands, you like him too much to leave him behind. You juggle Junie and your bag to push open the doors for him outside of screen two.

"Thanks, babe," he says outside of screen two. You bite your lip, surprised by his easy tone.

You climb up the stairs and into your seats. You're high enough for Junie to sit in her own chair between you and Eddie and see the screen comfortably but she adamantly refuses, stretching out in your lap like an alley cat hungry for affection.

Eddie moves into the ragtag velvet seat beside you, a million things in his lap and at your feet. He's pretty enough under the theatre lights to dull the panging ache at the back of your head. "If she won't sit here, I will. I got you a lemonade, is that cool?"

If it weren't you'd hardly tell him.

"She's being extremely well-behaved," Eddie notes, an inkling of pride in his tone.

You could sucker punch him. Why does he do this to you?

"I know," you say with a shy smile, "it's suspicious, isn't it?"

"I don't know. If I were in your lap I might be well-behaved too." He raises his eyebrows, an over-exaggerated show of flirtatiousness.

You reach over the arm to take a handful of popcorn. Eyes on Junie, you offer her your stolen goods and say, "I've got two thighs."

"Don't tempt me."

Junie all but snatches the popcorn and tilts her head back. A kernel falls from her hand and disappears between the seats. You make a mental note to pick it up afterward, ears full of her chomping.

You'd worried she might be a little loud for the movies but there's a bunch of kids and none seem keen on keeping quiet, a cacophony of childish complaints to hide your conversation.

"Are babies supposed to eat popcorn?"

You freeze up. "Oh- I don't know," you say, turning Junie toward you so you can watch her swallow.

"I thought I read that somewhere, but-"

"No, I think you're right. Um…" Junie looks at you with obvious confusion. "Was that yummy?" you ask. You hide your concern with a strained bubbly attentiveness.

"I guess she's old enough."

Eddie's being very casual – it is casual. He's just thinking out loud. You know he's not criticising you. He never has, though sometimes you think he should.

It must show on your face anyhow that you're having a 'I'm a bad mom' crisis. A mean stroke of insecurity.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says suddenly, brows pinched, "it's alright. It was just a thought. And she had no problem eating it, I'm sure she's gonna be aces. Better than aces."

Junie climbs out of your lap and into his. He sets the popcorn on the floor to take her, and when her hands reach for his drink he holds the straw to her mouth. All the while his eyes move between her and you.

"Okay," you say, because you're being silly.

Junie is fine. Eddie was only saying something that's very well true. Babies aren't supposed to have popcorn, but June's not a baby, really. She knows how to chew properly. It's unlikely she'll choke.

Eddie has to keep his focus on her to avoid getting soaked – she barely knows how to use a straw and keeps trying to turn the cup upside down.

"Not like that, trouble. Right way up. You got it."

You pick at the loose stitching at the end of your shirt and have to change the subject before the embarrassment of it all swallows you. Such a small thing.

"Can I try one of these?" you ask, grabbing the first bag of candy you can find. They're a bag of Super Sour Suckers.

He looks at you over Junie's head, startled and hiding it poorly. Then, a smile so bright it increases the embarrassment you're feeling tenfold.

"You have to! Robin said they're even worse than the normal ones, I don't wanna go through that alone," he says urgently.

Robin is one of his friends. You're not jealous that he has friends (though you are, because you want your own, but not jealous that he has friends that aren't you). He's mentioned her in passing before. When you'd asked as bravely as you dared if they were anything more than friends he'd laughed maniacally.

"We're definitely just friends," he'd said.

You fight to stay smiling and pull open the bag of candies. Ironically, the jellies inside are shaped like pacifiers. Covered in sugar packed densely and looking almost wet with what you suspect to be citric acid, you shake the packet wearily and search for a candy that won't ruin your tongue.

Eddie holds out his hand. You drop a green one into his palm. Your fingertips ride up the curve of his thumb.

He's unflinching as he eats it. After a few seconds his eyes screw up and he clutches June tight to his chest, raising an unhelpful hand to his jaw.

"Holy sugar," he says, wincing.

You bite into a pink pacifier unfortunately layered in sugar and wait nervously for the sourness to kick in. Sure enough, it comes quick and torturous. It's a knife cutting through fog.

It's hard to feel tired when there's something this sour in your mouth.

"You can't spit it out!" Eddie says.

You stop with your hand halfway to your mouth. "What?" you ask incredulously, trying not to dribble.

"You gotta eat it! Chew and swallow!"

You chew miserably. He laughs at your expression – a warm and hyper sound, practically giggling. Junie joins in as she always does. His joy can't be overstated.

The lights go down while you're still fighting for your life. Your eyes water and you have to smother the taste with a quick drink and a gasping breath.

"You're sick. I can't believe you let me eat that," you whisper.

"You saw me eat mine! You knew what you were getting into… Think June wants one?"

Your outrage has him laughing again. It's a magnetic sound. Every time he does it you want to touch him, his arm one pole and your hand another.

Junie gets comfortable on his right leg, head tipped expectantly against his chest and eyes drawn to the screen as the trailers begin. You don't bother with jealousy; in ten minutes she'll be climbing over the arm to sit with you again, or want to sit in her own seat. She may even try to walk around. Toddlers are indecisive and easily distracted.

Even if she weren't. Even if she sat there in his lap for the next hour and a half and didn't look your way, you're not sure you could harbour any envy against him. His hand spreads over the front of her torso with fingers splayed against her ribs, stroking thoughtlessly through the fabric of her thick clothes.

He tips his head toward your chair. "There's nachos."

"I saw."

"Wanna eat some before they get cold?"

"Subtle."

He snorts. "Yep. That's what they call me. Eddie Subtle Munson."

You reach over the dark floor for the tray of nachos and balance them carefully on the armrest between your two seats. Eddie digs in without fuss, you fret over which ones have jalapeños on them, and Junie gets mad that nobody's sharing with her. She puts her hands straight in a mound of orange cheese. Her face is a picture when she brings it to her mouth. She's discovered molten gold.

"Junie," Eddie says lightly, carding hair away from her ear so she can hear him properly. "Don't get cheese on your pretty clothes. It took your mom a week to get the rocky road out of your strawberry jammies, you know?"

He doesn't care that she's mauled the food. He's worried she might stain her dungarees. Your heart goes crazy, another sudden surge of clarity.

Junie climbs back into your own lap as the movie begins. You whisper to her about proper theatre etiquette in your mommy voice and she doesn't do too bad a job at listening. She finds the appearance of the Great Mouse Detective himself quite funny, and laughs at his grave features and expressions every now and then. It's a golden sound.

Try as you might, you can't keep your eyes open. Junie's having such a good time and Eddie whispers funny commentary beside you, but eventually your eyelids creep shut and Eddie squeezes your arm, skin braceleted by his thick, warm fingers.

"C'mere," Eddie prompts, hands vying for your daughter where she's perched in your lap.

"Why?" Junie asks.

He's surprised at her inquisition. "You don't want a hug?"

She nods voraciously. Eddie lifts her off of your lap before she can use you as a climbing frame and into his own.

"I think mommy's sleeping," he tells her.

Junie looks at you curiously. You've got a wet wipe in your limp hand, which he takes and discards, and your head's fallen to one side. You'll have an awesome crick in your neck when you wake up.

Junie gives him a hug. He loves her hugs. They're so small and sweet, she's genuinely an extremely loving little girl. Her smile when she hugs people is beautiful as yours is, though her affection is less hesitant.

Everything's going well until she catches a look at the huge, scary bad guy Professor Ratigan somewhere in the middle.

Eddie's crunching through a greedy mouthful of popcorn and almost chokes as she turns around and hides in his chest. He brings a hand up to her back protectively though he doesn't know what happened, eyes moving between her and the screen at lightning speed.

"Aw, June," he murmurs sympathetically. He really is a scary looking guy.

"Eddie," she says, dangerously close to tears.

"Sweetheart, it's okay! He's only on TV."

She says something that might be, "Don't want." It's not quite there but Eddie thinks she's doing a great job lately with her talking, patting her back in a silent well done as he attempts to reassure her. "Basil's gonna outsmart him, Junie. The Great Mouse Detective is gonna save the day, scout's honour."

"No," she whines softly.

He covers her unhappy face with his hand.

"It's okay," he murmurs, melted and bemused. "It's okay, junebug. I swear."

Despite his best efforts, she starts to cry. Eddie freezes up because she doesn't cry often, not with him. When she does you're always there to find a solution. He supposes the novelty of being a new person has long worn off, and that he's going to have to make more of an effort than just tickling her or petting her hair to make it better.

Her volume increases. He shushes her, clumsy and awkward but earnest, trying the best that he can to make it up. He offers candies and drinks, he rummages through your baby bag for Mr. Bear. She takes it all but none of it lasts.

Someone in the chair behind him coughs pointedly.

Eddie turns to wake you up. He gets one good look at your face and can't follow through.

You're sleeping deeply, at the movie theatre of all places. How tired are you, and why hadn't you said? He'd known to some extent — it's why he'd offered to drive — but with the movie blaring and all the kids and noise and now Junie's crying, he realises you must be exhausted to sleep through it. Why hadn't he noticed? He kicks himself.

He lifts her up with his head angled down, giving your shoulder a swift squeeze and then bumping down the steps with Junie until he's out into the lights of the hallway. The door swings closed.

It's oddly quiet and extremely bright. Junie stops crying to blink, and starts to cry again once she's adjusted.

Eddie does not know what to do. It's a kick to his ego that he quickly accepts, though he does murmur a rueful, "Babe, I thought you liked me."

Lost on deaf ears, his comment hangs in the air.

He pats her back some more, wracking his brain for how you take care of her when she gets like this. Mostly, you're patient. You hum and you wait. Eddie tries to emulate you and your kind heart, walking her up and down the hall as he taps the bottom of her spine.

"It's okay," he repeats. The more he says it the easier it feels. It is okay. He has to find a way to help June understand that, is all.

She grizzles. It's a long process. A couple of times he wonders if he's in over his head, if it's even his place, if he should wake you up and admit defeat.

But Eddie Munson is trying to prove something.

He works Mr. Bear out of Junie's iron grip and pinches his back taut so that his face and arms wiggle when he wants them to.

"Baby June," he begins, in as gruff a voice as he can manage. He tries to channel his uncle's sternness, and his fondness. "Won't you quit crying? You're getting tears on the neck of your t-shirt and all over your cheeks."

Junie quietens. She still cries, but the severity of the situation noticeably shifts.

Eddie keeps on. "I got just the thing," he says, pushing Mr. Bear forward and making smacking sounds as he kisses both of her cheeks. "Gotta kiss these tears right off a'you."

She laughs as Mr. Bear kisses her face dry and laughs some more when Eddie kisses the top of her head.

Eddie loves Junie.

He knows it for a fact.

She's very easy to love. She's beautiful as you are, she's loving, she's sweet. Her laugh is adorable and her smile is more. When she cries, Eddie finds he's never annoyed. Grated by the repetitive sound, maybe, but he can't find it in himself to be mad with her ever. He wants to help her work through it. To get you both through it. Eddie wants to be good at this.

He has Mr. Bear kiss Junie all over her face.

"See?" Mr. Bear asks. "Isn't that better? No more tears, little girl, or we'll never see the end of the movie!"

As Eddie says it, he wonders if taking her back into the theatre is a good idea.

"Hey, junebug?" he says, all drama set aside.

Junie lifts her flushed face.

He smiles gratefully. "Do you wanna go back inside? Go check on mommy?" Leaving you by yourself doesn't exactly sit right with him.

Ah, there's the face he was expecting. Puzzlement, surprise. Junie frowns at him and looks over his shoulder, her own, searching the empty hallway for you and finding only reflective floor lights and patterned carpet.

Eddie starts back into the screen room before she can cry over your being missing, chatting quietly but in a way that commands her attention. He's effective in the art of distraction if nothing else.

The mouse detective and his friends have defeated Professor Ratigan, though Eddie shields Junie's head from the screen in case he's thinking about making a comeback, finding his way back to you in the dark. He picks over other people's snacks and then the abundance of your own, finding you still sound asleep. The sight doesn't spell good tidings.

"Here she is," Eddie tells Junie, "here's mom. You wanna give her a kiss?"

He sits down in his seat and squishes a bag of gummy worms under his boot. Junie immediately bends over the armrest and grabs at your front. You'd worried to him once that she had separation anxiety, and Eddie didn't know anything about it to agree or not. This display makes him think she might. She's clinging to you, desperately wanting your attention.

Eddie winces as she grabs your face. She's obviously not trying to be cruel, hand stroking over your cheek as you'd stroke hers.

"Mom," she whispers, the action itself enough to get Eddie laughing. Her version of whispering is almost like a character in a pantomime.

He doesn't laugh for very long. You're not easy to wake up. Junie squishes your cheek and tries again. "Mommy," she says.

You groan in your sleep and your eyes scrunch together. "What?" you murmur finally, voice scratchy.

"You're missing the movie," Eddie says, patting your thigh.

Your arms come to life before you do. You wrap them around Junie's short torso and encourage her up your chest until you can nose at the top of her head. You rub slow lines, a steady back and forth. Eddie would bet money you don't have a clue in the world where you are.

"S'loud," you complain. Your voice is weak with sleep.

Junie looks at Eddie weirdly. He suspects it's her way of asking him to help out without asking.

He tenses his hand where it rests at your thigh. "Do you wanna go home?"

You don't answer. You go limp under his touch and Junie's weight, nose and lips set in a frown but otherwise near languid.

Eddie's small (and alarmingly ever-present) worry for you multiplies by a hundred.

He grabs up a bag of chips and entices your daughter back onto his thigh. She digs through half the bag as the movie draws to a finish, distracted if not happy, her face and fingers swiftly flaked in corn dust. The lights are thrown up and the noise is immense, a hundred pairs of shoes over tipped popcorn, babies and young kids unsettled, their parents eager to head home and watch their own movies no doubt.

Eddie can't say he'd really watched the film besides precursory glances, his focus on you and your fidgety offspring. He'd been excited to tell you about his Junie success, but now he just wants to get you home.

He says your name as clearly as he can, his hand finding its way to your thigh for the third time. He rubs down toward your knee and gives your leg a shake.

Junie climbs off of his own. Now the lights are on she can see the grand assortment of snacks laid out before her, and she seems eager to try them all.

You eventually, thankfully rouse, you drag a palm over your eyes and cross your legs, squishing his hand in the process. He steals it back.

"Babe, you gotta get up. The attendants are looking at us funny. I think they think I've run you ragged, and while the dad tag doesn't bother me, 'cruel husband' doesn't suit me."

"What?" you ask.

He shrugs. "Junie pissed her pants."

Your eyes open, lashes parting clumsily. You move like the air around you has turned to glue and moan in a quiet display of agony as your neck clicks. "She leaked through?"

"Nah, I'm messing with you. Movie's done. Getting some weird stares."

You're quiet, but you shrug on your jacket and Eddie packs what he can of the leftover candy into your bag. He swings it over his shoulder.

"You wanna come up?" he asks Junie.

She raises both arms.

You stand on shaky legs. Eddie stations Junie on one hip with one arm wrapped around her and holds out the other. You let him fold you up into his side.

"You okay?" he asks.

Your face drops into his shoulder. "I'm so tired."

"You're alright to walk out to the car?"

His worry is like a rubber band. You snap to attention, disengage from his hold. It's a foreign and really uncomfortable feeling to see you out of sorts.

Eddie walks behind you with a hand nearly but not touching your back. If you topple, he's not sure how he's gonna save you. Determined anyways, he guards you down the hollow stairs and through the hallway, one step behind you.

It's a cool, crisp night outside.

The smell of rain sticks around. You lift your chin. It's much colder now that night's fallen. The breeze kisses your damp skin. When did you start sweating?

He presses his hand to your shoulders and guides you across the road.

Junie starts her lovely babbling in his ear. "Mouse 'tective," she says at one point. You don't react, affirming his theory: you're more than tired. You're sick.

"Mouse detective," he agrees, arm around your shoulder to assuage his own worries as he gives Junie the best of his attention. "You liked that one, huh?" Besides the evil Professor. "Better than the Muppets in New York? Junebug, you little traitor. How easily your favour changes."

"Are you surprised? She took to you like," — you yawn wide enough that Eddie feels it under his arm, a full body thing — "a duck to water."

He beams, relieved to hear your voice. "Yeah, well, I'm special."

"That's true."

Eddie walks you around to the passenger side and opens your door.

"Flirting! Awesome. You're not too sick to forget how much of a catch I am. Watch your head."

"I gotta do Junie's straps," you say.

"I think I can do it by now."

He's only sort of bluffing. It takes him much longer than it would've taken you. He celebrates his win by pinching her cheek lightly and then whacking his head hard on the roof of your car.

"Fuck," he mutters as he jogs around the hood, scrubbing at the back of his head.

You're staring at him as he opens the door.

He puts the baby bag in your lap and shoves the key in the ignition, trying not to buckle under the weight of your gaze. He cracks quicker than he should, hand paused in its action.

"What?"

"You tryna give yourself a concussion?"

"Kiss it better?"

You kiss the tip of your finger and touch it to his head. It's an instant healing potion.

Getting you both home is easy enough, it's the trying to leave that's hard. You collapse heavily into the couch, Junie drapes herself over your lap and begs for her clothes to be taken off. Your second wind has worn away to nothing, leaving you plainly exhausted.

Eddie can't go home, not until he knows you're alright.

He slinks into your bedroom and tries not to look around too much. It feels like an invasion of privacy despite having made it in here a couple of times, always with his hip to the door as you search for something. He fails spectacularly and straight away, always hungry to know more about you. These days especially.

Your bed looks like you shook out the duvet but never tucked the corners. Your pillow's on the floor, your thin throw blanket is screwed up in a ball. There's a bunch of Junie's stuffies against the headboard. He grins at their straight backs.

He makes for your wardrobe, a cheap bit of cherry wood with one sagging door. As much as he wants to outfit Junie in her goodwill band t-shirt, he pulls a soft pair of cotton pyjamas out from a neatly folded stack, thumbing the blue fabric fondly. There's a noticeable disparity between her clothes and yours. One work skirt and one work shirt hang from two lonely hangers, accompanied only by your infamous 'best jeans'. He frowns at a small stain at the knee and scratches it fruitlessly. Not her best jeans, he thinks in horror, picturing your unhappy face. He can see it so clearly, the pinching of your brows.

Junie squeals happily from the living room. Eddie remembers himself and follows the sound, finding you both on the ground. You're kneeling, blowing raspberries into Junie's naked stomach where she lays on her changing mat, a discarded diaper and her dirty clothes to the side.

There's a big break between raspberries where your eyes drift shut sluggishly. Junie whines for another.

Eddie sits next to you. Stupidly close, his crossed leg kisses your thigh. He could wrap you up in a hug easily right here, and he wants to. Your tired face has his stomach aching with guilt.

"Sweetheart," he says to you firmly, "get back on the couch. You look like you're gonna fall asleep right here."

You don't argue, leaving Eddie the impossible duty of dressing your baby. Junie hates the shirt more than he can describe, loathes the fabric as it covers her face. He has to pick her up to get her into her pants, another fury. She forgives him easily once he's done, lingering by his side with Mr. Bear in hand. She pinches his back and imitates Eddie's low growl, laughing at herself as she does. She finds it very funny. Eddie can't help giggling with her.

"Eddie?" you ask.

He turns. You look miserable.

"What?" he asks softly, startled by your intense expression.

"Thank you."

"Oh, baby," he says, loud and brash as he twists where he is to grab both of your knees. He practically throws himself at you, at your feet, ducking his cheek to your leg. "You really are sick as a dog."

You look visibly embarrassed.

"Listen," he says, insistent, "If we start saying thank you to each other, we won't stop. We'll be a loop of thank yous."

"I think I have more to say than you do," you murmur.

He shakes his head, exasperated at your inability to see him for what he is even now. It's funny. Eddie thinks you've a better view of him than anybody else, that you see him more generously than anyone has ever seen him, and you still haven't noticed he's a boy in love.

You must feel his grin as he kisses your knee, his thumb stroking over the ridge of the cap.

"If I started to say thanks for all the things you've given me I wouldn't stop. I'd talk myself hoarse," Eddie argues.

You laugh at his dungeon master dramatics, but reaffirm, "I haven't given you anything."

"You don't know what you've given me," he says into your leg.

Eddie lifts his head, weary of his chin digging into your leg.

Now isn't the best time to declare devotion, or drop kisses into you when you can't offer any in return. Not that he's expecting you to. Not that he wouldn't receive them gratefully.

"I should go home."

You reach for him. Your hand moves slowly like you've a weight around your wrist, but your fingertips curve over his cheek; you move from the corner of his lip, under his eye, and then finish your circle at the skin beneath his ear.

"Can you hug me?" you ask.

"Yeah," Eddie says. He doesn't waste any time.

He gets up, slides a knee between your knees and rests his full weight on the couch between them as his arms curve around you and his hands feel for the dip of your lower back. He clutches without any hesitation.

"Can I? Did you mean it like that? My arms work fine."

You curl your arms around him and groan. "You're gonna crush me."

"Really?" He pulls you closer. "How 'bout now?"

"Ow," you whine.

He laughs and pushes his face toward your ear. "Liar," he whispers. "No way that hurts."

"Why's everybody always on top of me?"

"That's your issue?" He pulls back. "You want to sit in my lap?"

"No!"

"Aw, my poor girl. You totally wanna sit in my lap. Alright, get in it."

He sits down beside you and waits, one arm still behind your back. He gives you an encouraging tug.

"I'm not sitting in your lap."

"I didn't think you would, just- Just c'mere," he prompts, pulling your face into his chest.

Your arms slide around his waist. He can feel the scratchy skin on your left index finger, a scar of a recent kitchen accident, against his hip where his shirt has ridden.

"You're really handsy. Has anyone told you that before?" Eddie asks, trying to cover the entirety of your back with his arms alone.

You push your face as far as it'll go into his chest. Eddie keeps you there, and soon a little body has found its way onto the couch next to you both, demanding to be included. Eddie quickly drags her in.

Long minutes of quiet hugs.

"Wish we could stay like this forever," you murmur.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere. If you were worried."

He massages over the slope of your shoulder, a tight looking muscle. You sigh inaudibly, a hot patch over his heart.

"I wasn't," you say.

Eddie thinks you might finally be on the same page.

You get really, really sick.

"On my days off!" you croak, the injustice too much to handle.

Eddie laughs from the end of your bed, a bandana tied around his face like a doctor from one of his awful horror movies, though the bandana is far from a clinical white. "That's exactly why you're still sick. Your body sensed the weekend."

Hadn't it? You'd been achy and awful on Friday and Benny had sent you home at lunch, citing a need to keep his patrons from infection. Which sucked, because you'd really wanted to stick around for the very beginning of the Friday night rush and get some payday tips. People are generous when they're high on the buzz of a forthcoming weekend, especially to over obsequious waitresses.

It had sucked worse when Junie came out of daycare in the best mood ever and demanded kisses. You'd had a headache the size of a tennis ball behind your eyes and didn't want to pass anything over, and the crushed look on her face had made you cry in the car on the way home.

Eddie dropped in particularly early that night with soup. "I had a feeling," he'd said.

And now here he is again the day after.

"At least one of us is enjoying this," you say.

"You think I'm enjoying this?" Eddie asks.

You give his precautionary outfit a once over. "Yes."

"This is just something I had lying around."

"Shut up! Shut up, no it wasn't!" You're voice cracks, giggly and giddy even with the spikes of pain to your tender head.

"It was. We did a campaign, I was a plague doctor-"

"That is in terrible taste."

"It was perfectly appropriate, thank you very much. You're determined to vilify me. Need to slow down with the cold medicine, I think."

You shriek as he tries to take the bottle. "No! No, please, my throat hurts."

He takes the bottle. It is a hurtful defeat. You curl your fingers around nothing and sulk, slouching down into a sanctuary of pillows and blankets to hide from him. Extra pillows provided by Eddie. With fresh covers, duh. They smell like him anyway. You turn your nose into it indulgently.

"You've had too much to safely be responsible for any further consumption."

"Further consumption," you echo, eyes closing in defeat as he leaves.

"You okay, June?" you hear him ask, voice occluded partially by the sound of the TV.

"Okay, Eddie?" she asks.

You grin to yourself.

"I'm great. This looks very fun. I'm gonna make mom a cold pack for her head and then you can help me make dinner, okay? Does that sound fun? Tell me, June."

The 'Tell me, June,' isn't a command so much as a gentle reminder that she can answer the question if she wants to.

"Fun," she says.

"Hey, great. Oh, thank you. Thank you."

They better not be cuddling without me, you think bitterly, grin swiftly replaced by a self-pitying frown.

You cough into your hand, roil in your own misery for a second and then grab the big glass of water Eddie had insisted on from the night stand. You tip it down yourself in your hurry.

"Missed your mouth," Eddie says, appearing at exactly the wrong moment.

"Don't baby me."

He pads into the room with a cold pack wrapped in a hand towel. "For your head."

"This is silly. I don't need to be in bed."

"Obviously you do. You're sick, did you notice? Stupid question," he adds regretfully, gesturing for you to lie back. He sets the pack to your forehead. "You wouldn't notice a hole in your stomach. You'd be dripping entrails in the freezer aisle wondering if Junie wants corn on the cob or mashed potato with dinner tonight."

"What does she want for dinner tonight?"

"Boo! Exactly my point."

"I'm gonna go ask her-"

Eddie puts an unapologetic hand in the middle of your chest and pushes down. "You will do no such thing." He lowers his face to yours. "I'm willing to get physical. So behave."

You flush with heat because you're sick and not because he says it a certain way, dropping back down into your fluffed pillows without another word.

Eddie's hand climbs up to your collar, your neck. His fingers slide one after another behind it. It's a blessed cold. You can't find a comfortable temperature today, moving between chills and hot flashes at the drop of a hat.

Or a bandana. Eddie unties the dark fabric from his neck and leaves it where it lands, staring at you without saying anything.

His thumb presses into your sore throat carefully, the barest hint of pressure, and his lips part. He doesn't say anything for a while. It looks like he wants to.

"Do me a favour?" he asks finally.

"Of course." Anything to feel useful right now.

"Take it easy." He again lowers his head, talking to you with a private smile. "The sooner you chill out, the sooner you'll beat this thing."

"Don't say that. Like I have something serious."

"The sooner you'll beat this moderate-"

"Mild-"

"-affliction." He strokes quarter-circles into your neck.

"I don't need to lie down. There's things I have to do."

"On a Saturday?"

"Yes. There's things I need to do everyday." You clear your throat. It's useless, the lump remains and your voice stays scratchy. "I have- I always have laundry. So that first. Gotta wash it and put it out and bring it in and press it. I gotta make sure Junie has lunch for daycare this week 'n if she doesn't I have to go get it, I gotta," — you cover his hand with your own thoughtlessly — "make sure her rash is getting better. And I promised we'd do a tea party tomorrow, I have to make sandwiches!"

"We both know she doesn't remember the tea party."

"I promised."

"And if I… If I tried to get all those things done, would you stay in bed?"

"You can't."

"But if I tried it? I can do laundry. I'm good at it. Get oil stains out of Wayne's coveralls every Sunday."

You slump into a lump of sadness and achy arms. "Don't do my laundry. Don't do any of that stuff. I'll punch you if you do."

Eddie bursts into laughter. "You'll punch me? You horrible woman."

"I will," you promise, fingers curling around his arm to hold him in place.

"Why don't I believe you?"

"I don't know. 'Cos you're a know-it-all who dislikes me."

"I far from dislike you." He grins at you, all dimpled and pretty. "I don't believe you'd hit me because I know you, idiot."

"Name-calling."

"Uh-huh. Are you sleeping or am I helping you out onto the couch?"

While you're happy for the compromise, you have one problem. "I don't think I can move."

Eddie lets his face fall amicably to your collar. "No, I bet you can't. More reason for me to get you on the couch. I think you've genuinely had too much cough syrup," he worries, warm breath fanning over your skin.

You bring your spare hand to his head. He has so many curls.

He lifts his head and you're close enough to kiss. There's no other reason anyone has ever been this close.

"I can see your beauty mark," you say, hushed. You don't wanna breathe on him too much.

"Freckle."

"Your freckle." You lift and drop his curls, fingers toying through the softness towards his roots, the frizz at the ends.

"You- You smell like fucking cherry syrup."

You abandon his hair to clap a hand over your mouth. "I'm sorry."

He covers his own mouth. "It's okay," he says, similarly muffled. "I like the sweet stuff."

What the fuck does that mean? Your stomach doesn't flip — it leaps right up into your throat. "You're an idiot," you breathe, caught off guard.

"What was that?" he asks, taking away his hand. "Didn't catch it."

"I said, 'You're an-"

"Amazing friend and confidante?"

You try to talk and he says, "A real stand-up guy?"

You try again and he says, "A total rockstar? Baby, if you really think all this you should've said."

You flop completely onto your back, away from his hands, his jokes and his lovely brown eyes where they bore into your own. Eddie hums and rubs brashly over the top of your arm until the skin glows with heat.

"Please stay in bed," Eddie says as he stands.

Medicine or his touch, you're feeling pretty tired. You pull up your blankets and sink like a stone, head disappearing into a mess of pillows and throws.

It's much later when you wake. You move into the land of the living abrupt as whiplash.

Eddie seems very sorry. "Sweetheart, June's past due for a new diaper, and I-"

"Oh, right," you say, sounding much more alert than you feel. You're a girl made of sandpaper.

"I would've, I mean. If it wouldn't make you uncomfortable, I would've tried. But I've never changed a diaper in my life."

You scratch your flaky eyes, disorientated and head like a boiling saucepan with the lid glued on.

"That's okay," you say. Your voice refuses to cooperate with you, gruff and too quiet. "It wouldn't bother me, but it's also not your job, so… Um." You yawn wide and cover your entire face.

You spend a minute rubbing your eyes.

"Fuck, what time's it?" you ask, squinting at him and bringing your hands to either side of your face.

"Like, seven. Ish."

"Eddie…"

"I know. I thought you could use the rest. I knew you could. And it's not urgent, you know? Come around, first. Everything's stellar."

You peel back the sheets. You're a clammy, too-hot mess with weak legs.

Eddie sees you wobble and rushes to wrap an arm around your waist. Completely unnecessarily, heart-achingly kind. You wince at the dampness of your shirt under his touch.

Junie sits on the couch in her jammies with a yellow-green soup stain down the front. She's propped up like a princess, a pillow behind her head between the armrest and her blanket covering her legs, cheek pressed to the cushions. Eyes trained on the TV and her bottle propped in a slackening grip, your baby is peaceful, near luxurious.

Only a little wiggle might suggest she's uncomfortable.

You part from Eddie's side and sit down beside her, the seat warm. She doesn't even look up.

"What, no hi for mom?" you ask tenderly, hand falling to the top of her head. She's lovely.

She gasps, little lungs fit to burst. It's pure excitement, her bottle dislodged and the blanket pushed away immediately. She doesn't bother getting to her feet, throwing herself into your lap and assuming you'll do the rest. Of course you will. You pull her up and kiss the top of her head, though you quickly hold her at arm's length.

"Sorry, mommy's still sick," you tell her, sympathetic at her crushed expression.

"Mis'd," she says.

"Yeah? You missed me?" you ask hopefully.

Her lips part in comprehension. "Missed you," she confirms.

You throw your gaze over your shoulder to Eddie. He stands by Junie's changing station with a smug smile. "What?"

"You're not very convincing."

"I'm not trying to convince you, thanks," he says, holding up two hands in surrender.

"She didn't learn that herself," you argue.

"She might've. You tell her enough."

You go back to your girl, pleased at her own smug smile. "I missed you, too, I missed you so much. Missed you millions. Sorry I've been sleeping all day, you've been such a good girl. She has, hasn't she?"

Eddie sorts through a nearly empty bag of diapers and brandishes one with fish printed on the back. "Oh, yeah. Junebug's been amazing. She came in with me to see you earlier, took your temperature." You frown. "From a distance. Kind of. I held her above you. It was… acrobatic."

You close your eyes at his absurdity, your laugh prompting another spike of pain.

Junie forces herself closer and gets both arms around your neck.

You sag into the contact, defeated. "Aw, June," you mumble ruefully. "M'trying to make sure you don't get sick too. Wasting my time."

"Mommy," she says into your neck.

"That's me."

You know she has something she wants to say. You can't wait for the days where she can. Exciting, to think that one day she'll be able to share all of her thoughts.

Right now, she's probably thinking, Woah, mom, you smell weird. And you look weirder.

You feel her back with your hand and cringe. Definitely time to get her changed.

Afterward, you sit with your back to the open front door on one of the porch steps. Physical exertion of any kind seems to be inadvisable; you're sweating up a storm. Junie sits beside you at her own insistence, her hand clasped in your hand and her head on your arm. You look down at her thighs next to your own and marvel at their small size. The evening breeze is a blessing.

Eddie stands in front of you with his backpack slung over his shoulder and a checklist.

"Tea party sandwiches are badly made and saran wrapped in the fridge. Junie doesn't have lunch for Monday but I can go tomorrow if you want me to. Her clothes are folded in the hamper. Uh, some stuff got left out, you might need to press them. Not tonight though, please."

"Thank you."

He talks around a smile. "Soup's on the stove. I'll come back later, if-"

"You don't have to."

"I want to. I wouldn't actually leave, but-"

"Eddie-" You cough into your shoulder. He waits for you to finish. "You- You didn't have to take care of me."

"What does that mean? Of course I did."

He hikes his backpack higher up his shoulder and pads back up the steps, not all of them but enough for him to lean down and stare at Junie.

"Thanks for the best day ever," he says seriously, looking out of the corner of his eye at you. "Almost. See you later?"

Junie nods voraciously and reaches up with her empty hand. Eddie takes it and kisses her temple. He does the same to you, lips brushing soft as downy-feather over your skin.

"I'll come back around ten? Is that cool?"

"Don't knock too loudly," you mumble, very aware of his proximity.

He backs up and bows like an idiot, hand moving in circles.

You and Junie wave him off.

"To work?" Junie asks.

Your eyebrows jump as you pull your gaze from his retreating figure. "Huh?"

"To work?"

You play with her fingers. "No, he's not going to work. He's going to take care of someone else, now."

Wayne, Eddie said, in a fondly exasperated tone that explained everything you needed to know. His uncle's self-preservation must come in similar disinterest to himself as yours does to you.

"We'll see him tomorrow," you say. It's not even a lie, you will both see him tomorrow.

But apparently he's coming back tonight.

True to his word, Eddie Munson knocks your door carefully at nearing ten o'clock.

Wayne's dismissal chases his heels. He'd spent an hour worrying about you at the dinner table with his uncle, fingers curling anxiously in his hair.

Wayne had been talking about some gab the boys in the shop had heard about killer mice or killer lice or something when he'd suddenly cleared his throat and snapped Eddie to attention.

"You're a good kid. Notice how I said good, and not smart," Wayne had said.

"Gee, thanks. You always did know how to make a guy feel loved, Wayne."

"You don't wanna be here."

Eddie had frowned. "Obviously I do."

"Kid, what I mean is, you gotta," — he'd nodded his head hard to one side and raised his eyebrows — "you know."

"Haven't brushed up on my mysterious gestures lately. Translate that one for me?"

Wayne had flicked up his newspaper and sighed. "Don't be dumb."

"You keep saying that."

"You keep being dumb, boy."

"I don't know what you want me to do."

"Think you better go look after your girl, don't you?" Wayne had asked finally, clearing his throat.

So here he is to look after you. A tad early, worried you'll be sleeping on the couch with a misbehaving baby in your lap or passed out in the bathroom after an impromptu cleaning.

Thankfully, you open the door in different clothes than he'd left you in, the neckline dark with run-off and face damp under your eyes and by your ears. You dab at your tacky skin with your index knuckle.

"You look better," he says. He wishes he could take it back instantly, though you don't take any offence.

"Hot shower," you explain.

You step back to let him in. Eddie closes the door behind him without turning, eyes glued to your fresh face. He's depressed by the lingering fatigue he finds lining your darling features.

"You okay?" you ask him, perturbed by his silence.

Eddie's better than okay.

He steps close. You look like you might step back, make room for him he doesn't want, so he reaches out for your face and holds it in one hand, the other landing in tandem on your arm.

Your cheek lists into his hand as he wipes away what's left of the dampness on your face. He's not sure you know you're doing it.

"Did you take any more medicine?" he asks quietly, rubbing under your eye carefully with the tip of his thumb.

"No, I- I think you fixed me, Munson. Me and Junie had your soup, and after a shower I felt way better. It was really nice. She slept easy."

He presses the back of his hand to your forehead. "You don't feel too hot."

"Like I said. Fixed me. My hero."

He looks over your shoulder at your life — at his life, or at least where a majority of it seems to take place. All his favourite parts these days happen right there on your couch, or at that table, or knee to knee with a baby that isn't his but- but-

"You said that to me the first time we met," Eddie recalls, shaking his head. It's like there's water in his ears. A few strands of hair drift into his eyes.

You catch his elbows in both hands. "It feels like a really long time ago now."

Months. Only months. "I feel like I've known you for years."

He strokes over your face, chin to cheek, the tip of his thumb pressed to the corner of your mouth.

"That's how I feel, too," you whisper. Utter. Hushed, your words ring loud anyway. "You're my best friend."

Eddie doesn't take it for a door closing because it isn't. It's a door kicked wide open. Split on its hinges. You and Eddie stand on equal ground, and, for once, the same page.

"You know I don't mind taking care of you?" he asks, hand passing over your ear to hide behind it. He wants to see all of your face.

Predictably, you drop your eyes to his neck, pupils wobbling as you search for somewhere to plant yourself. "I know. I'm not sure I deserve it."

"Why wouldn't you deserve it? Everyone deserves taking care of."

"Even murderers?"

"Maybe not murderers-"

"The evil guys from your game? Necromancers?"

"They're not all evil." His left palm skirts up the curve of your neck, encouraging your face back to his. "Don't change the subject."

You press your lips together, caught.

"I actually…" — he gathers as much bravery as he has — "want to take care of you."

"You do."

He holds your face in both hands. "You know you- You know you started it, right? You know it's- that without your-" He cringes internally at his stammering, but he has to get this part right. "You have gold where your heart should be."

"Y/N The Golden Hearted. Doesn't have the best ring to it," you muse, hands clinging to the crooks of his elbows like twin pooled teardrops waiting to fall.

Eddie stares at you, floored.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" he asks.

"What's your name?" you demand, grinning.

"Eddie the Subtle. Munson the Mad."

You huff a laugh. "That's a cop-out."

"Maybe."

"How about…" The air feels thick as jelly. Light from under the bedroom door stops short of your legs, your toes almost touching. His rubber soles, your socks. "Eddie the Indomitable?"

He crinkles his nose. "I'd almost think you were trying to flirt with me, that's how bad that is."

Your blinks are slow. Your eyes soften.

"What if I was?" you ask.

A stock-still silence pervades, filled only by the hum of the refrigerator and the droning of the bathroom light, left on. He could tell you the contents of this room by its sounds alone.

His hand moves of its own accord, up and down the slope of your neck. "I'd say you needed a better pick up line."

"Like what?" you ask, chest rising too fast.

Eddie takes a step and feels his jacket zipper cut into the cotton of your shirt. It's your matching band t-shirt.

Eddie drags his gaze slowly to your widened eyes, your lashes as they move almost imperceptibly upward. Taking him in as he inches closer.

"You're so fucking pretty," he says.

He leans in. He closes the gap. Eddie Munson takes the leap.

Your hand comes quickly to his upper arm and you turn your face just enough to force his lips, his kiss landing a centimetre shy of your nose.

He struggles to keep his eyes closed. His heart thrums like a blown amp.

"You can't kiss me," you say. Eddie struggles to discern your tone.

His nose presses to yours. Not desperately, but almost. "I can't?" he asks, throat thick with emotion, a stickying, cloying taffy.

"I'll make you sick."

He turns your face with his palm, lips hovering above yours, a hair's width. Close enough to feel their heat.

"Can I trust you'll nurse me back to health, in the event that that happens?" Would you take care of me? His hands tremble where they're touching you. He's too scared to open his eyes.

You don't answer.

You cover his hands and the seconds stretch endlessly, a thousand moments of terror and pining and want suddenly flattened into one as you kiss him.

He exhales against you. His relief is a palpable, viscous thing as he pulls you in and his nose digs into yours. Lips soft as he'd imagined, as he'd known they'd be, you kiss back tentatively. Sweetly.

You're kissing him like he's something that needs a careful touch.

Eddie screws his eyes shut tight enough to see stars, firecrackers, a shattering bouquet of colours as you move beneath him. He can't believe he's kissing you. He can't believe there was a time where he wasn't.

He yields, leaning back just enough to see your face. You keep your eyes shut, your eyelashes kissing the delicate skin beneath. They move like blades of grass in the breeze as Eddie tries to catch his breath, regaining some of his composure. It's hard while he's here, this close.

You make a small sound, a breath like a barb. The shaky demarcation of tears.

"Okay?" he asks, more movement than sound. His lips skip over your own.

You have to feel it.

A laugh bubbles up through your parted lips like a hiccup. "I'm definitely gonna make you sick," you mumble regretfully.

"Make me sick, sweetheart," he says, begs. Whatever.

Whatever word you want to use. He doesn't care if he pays for it afterwards, he wants to be close to you now, unapologetically close. And kissing you — kissing you like this, your reciprocation, it's everything because it means you feel the same as he does.

Or a fraction the same. He's reassured either way. If you felt a fraction of what he felt, that's enough.

It's a lot. To be touching you, finally. He grabs at the nape of your neck and kisses, kisses, kisses. He goes slowly, not quite sweetly. He's never been as sweet as you have, never as soft or patient.

It doesn't feel like it matters.

You pull his hands from your face, press his and your own, all four hands to the collar of your shirt.

"It wasn't just a, uh, pick up line, was it?" you ask breathlessly.

"Wh- No." Eddie massages the back of your hands. "No, you're the fucking prettiest girl ever. I think you're aces. Killer. Everything."

"Everything," you say, an almost indecipherable glassiness to your eyes.

"Everything," he says. He spreads his hand over your heart.

You don't throw yourself at him, but you move alarmingly quickly. Arms over his shoulders, hands crossed and buried in his hair. Your laugh is magic, a bright and exuberant sound loud in his ear and then the skin underneath. He's barely got an arm around the small of your back when you start to kiss him, repetitive, chaste pecks over his pulse. It capers under your lips.

"I don't know what kind of girl you think I am-" He begins deadpan and breaks abruptly, your second wave of laughter impossible to ignore.

Your arms tighten at his laughing, palm cupping the back of his head.

"You're my best friend, too," he says. "But you knew that."

"Maybe," you murmur, your smile wide against his skin. You're uncharacteristically mischievous.

He lets his back bend under your weight until your heels lift and you're scrabbling to stay on your own two feet and is rewarded by your shrieking laughter.

Oh, god, he thinks, ecstatic.

"Wait," you say, bargaining for freedom as he squeezes you hard enough to make you laugh again, and again, "wait, wait! Wait, let go. I have something to tell you."

Eddie sets you down. He's reluctant to let you go, almost desperate to hug you now that he knows he can, but his curiosity gets the better of him. What could you have to tell him now that isn't confessional? It's like being promised something good.

You stand sure and sweet in front of him.

"It's…" You look shyly at his lips.

"What?"

"I…"

He shakes his head gently from side to side. "What? Tell me."

"Nothing," you say, beaming. Act dropped, you take his face into both hands and kiss him soundly.

Eddie's barely got his hands on you before you're pulling back.

"Just wanted to do that," you say.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist | this fic is multi-chapter

if you enjoyed (i I really hope you did), please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

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sirensarecallingmehome · 2 years

Text

I feel like he would have loved the jousting events, maybe even participated at least once

I need Renaissance!Eddie. I think he would have loved dressing up and going to the festivals. It’s kind of ridiculous, but I can’t stop picturing him in tights.

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sirensarecallingmehome · 2 years

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don't mind me i'm just thinking about how Eddie Munson would SO pretend to be someone you know if you come up to him in a store or so and whisper to him how this guy has been creeping you out for ages 'n he would take to his role so well 😭 i need to shift dimensions I need to be with this guy

i'd commit unspeakable horrors to be his girlfriend

You almost feel bad practically tackling the man from behind. All he was doing was grabbing a can of soup off of the shelf, and you made him your impromptu best friend.

He lurches forward at the contact, and turns to look at you with fire in his eyes. You're absolutely certain he's going to scold you, but he sizes you up at his eyes soften slightly. He raises one eyebrow, a silent 'what the fuck do you want?' and you ramble breathlessly.

"Please pretend you're my friend," You whisper, the squeaky wheels of the cart you're dreading the owner of coming towards you down the aisle, "He's following me and I don't know what to do."

He doesn't even blink. His face doesn't shift in the slightest, and for a quick moment you're unsure whether he heard you at all. But his arm curls around your own, and he spins you to face the soups.

"-so I was thinking chicken and stars, but R2-D2 absolutely kills as a noodle," He drawls, ringed fingers gesturing vaguely at each can that he names, "'S whatever you want, babe."

You hear your supermarket stalker's wheels squeak to a stop at the end of the aisle, and you don't dare turn to see his face. You'd prefer never to see it again, a reminder of the lewd comment he'd made in the produce section about melons.

"Star Wars," You decide, plucking the can off of the shelf and handing it to him, "Uh, thank you."

"Now we need," He squints at his list, tongue poking out of his mouth and sticking to his upper lip, "Ritz crackers, and chicken for tomorrow night."

He mimes looking for the crackers, noticing the man standing at the end of the aisle, waiting.

"Oh, sorry," He lifts the back wheels of the cart with the handle, scooting it sideways so that the man can pass, though you both know he doesn't want to, "Were we in your way? Go ahead, we're gonna be here for a while."

The man stares at you, you can feel it. But your new best friend sets a hand gently, politely on the small of your back, leading you around him and sandwiching you between the aisle and him. He holds the list out in front of you, "Babe, can you tell what that says? Can't even read my own writing," He laughs good-naturedly, "I think it says 'blueberries'?"

"Or blub errands," You try deciphering his messy scrawl, weight lifting from your shoulders as the man finally decides to move, crossing your path and bumping the wheel of your new cart as he does.

"Definitely blub errands," The boy beside you snickers, glancing at the reflective panel of the aisle beside him to watch for when the man finally turns a corner, "Some nice improv, babe."

You're not sure why he's still using the nickname, the man is out of earshot. But you're too relieved to care, physically relaxing as your shoulders slump.

"Oh my god," You let out a much bigger breath than you intend to, almost dizzying yourself, "Thank you so much. I just- he was always there and I didn't know what to do! I'm sorry I almost knocked you over," You turn sheepish, eyeing his ankle that you're fairly certain he'd twisted in the meetup, "Are you okay?"

"You're fine," He waves off your apology, rolling the ankle in question with a cheeky grin, "I'm tough."

"You look it," You eye him up and down, a silver chain dangling from his belt that's almost covered by a leather jacket, "Do you have, like, a really big tattoo of a heart with a knife through it on your arm? Bonus points if it says mom."

He laughs incredulously, shrugging the shoulder of his jacket off to prove you wrong, "Uh, no, but thanks for the idea."

You let out a laugh, something that seems impossible considering how scared you just were, but one that comes naturally. The boy you'd found seems to be the type you'd go for both in and out of a life-threatening scenario, and you're starting to wonder if you'll get this lucky with any real relationships you're in.

"Well, listen," He stuffs the list in his pocket, a scrap of the paper sticking out, "I've only got a few more things. If you want, we can check out together," He motions towards the hand-held basket you're holding, "'Cause I don't think that guy's gone. I'd offer you a ride home," He reaches a hand up to scratch aimlessly at the nape of his neck, "But I drive a van, and I think me asking you to get into it would be creepier than anything that guy did."

"It's okay!" You assure him, a light laugh escaping you at his earnestness, "I'm sure I'll be fine driving home. But seriously, thank you," You smile at him, clutching the handles of your basket tighter in an effort not to hug him, "I really appreciate this."

"Anytime, babe." There's that nickname again, paired with the grin you'd seen before, "Now come walk with me, you're helping me find the blub errands."

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sirensarecallingmehome · 2 years

Text

I want Eddie Munson playing Robin Hood in the school play

I need Renaissance!Eddie. I think he would have loved dressing up and going to the festivals. It’s kind of ridiculous, but I can’t stop picturing him in tights.

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things imagine

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sirensarecallingmehome · 2 years

Text

I need Renaissance!Eddie. I think he would have loved dressing up and going to the festivals. It’s kind of ridiculous, but I can’t stop picturing him in tights.

#eddie munson #stranger things

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sirensarecallingmehome · 2 years

Text

Pretty

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: three times eddie almost asks you out, and the one time he does.

word count: 4.5k

warnings: nothing! smitten eddie and reader with lots of fluff and waiting for them to get together!

a/n: hi hi! sorry for the wait for this one, but i hope you guys like it and pls let me know what u think :D

༄

Somehow, Eddie was roped into bringing Dustin to the arcade on a random weeknight. Something about Steve working and a new game being installed that he couldn’t miss.

And anyway, he has a hard time saying no to the kid.

So, that led him to having to clean out his van of his staches and anything he deemed unsuitable for the nosy eyes of Dustin Henderson. Eddie never thought he’d care so much about the youngest members of Hellfire, but he saw a lot of himself in them.

After picking up Dustin, who insisted on choosing the music, and driving to the arcade, he parked and followed Dustin inside. Of course, Eddie’s been to the arcade before, but last time he went, Keith was the one working there.

And you—who had a bright smile and was waving to Dustin—were certainly not Keith.

Eddie trailed behind his younger friend as he walked over to the counter to talk to you. Of course, Eddie knew who you were, but you were different from the person he went to school with, you seemed happier, like there was a weight that wasn’t holding you down anymore. He also had no idea you knew Dustin.

“Hurry up!” The curly-haired boy called from where he stood by the counter.

Eddie hadn’t even realized he stopped walking.

He caught up quickly, coming to rest his elbows on the desk you stood behind. You were laughing at something Dustin had said and it was a beautiful sight. Eddie wanted to make you laugh like that himself.

“Finally. Eddie, this is my old babysitter,” Dustin introduced you, even if you already knew each other. “Now she’s here all the time and loves when I come in.”

Eddie whispers your name, testing it on his tongue.

“You how he found out about this new game?” He faces you, and he swears he can feel his heart stutter when you make eye contact.

Your eyes are kind, soft, and surrounded by smudgy eyeliner that brings them out even more. He’s struck by how pretty you are. Not that you weren’t before, he’s just never noticed it until now.

“Guilty,” you shrug with a shy smile. “But hey, you can hang out with me here if you’d rather.”

Dustin was off with a rushed promise of getting the high score, and then it was just you and Eddie. He decided to take you up on your offer of passing the time with you. He’s sure it beats listening to Dustin yell at a video game.

“So, Eddie,” you prop yourself up with an elbow on the counter, chin perched on your hand. “Haven’t seen you since school. How are you?”

“Good, yeah. Finally graduated, so that’s something.”

“That’s great! What about your band?”

He’s surprised you knew about it, but he tries to hide it. “Corroded Coffin, yep. Still going.”

“And Hellfire? Dustin tells me all about it when he’s here.”

He can’t deny the pleasure he feels knowing you know about his hobbies. Even if you’ve probably learned it all through Dustin.

“Couldn’t let it go so I still run it. It’s nerdy but I love it.”

“Nothing wrong with nerdy. I’ve heard lots about it and it sounds really fun.”

You don’t mean to sound creepy or come off that way, knowing about Eddie and wanting to talk about it. You’re interested in knowing, you want to be his friend. He’s kind and funny and has an energy about him that you want to be around. He makes you a little nervous, even if you hide it well.

“It’s, um.. Yeah. It’s great.”

The evening moves along and you and Eddie talk through it all, save the interruptions from customers when you’re actually needed. It was easy and even through the awkward points, you both wanted to be there.

Eddie wasn’t expecting to actually enjoy himself, he was expecting a night that was a favor to Dustin and that’s it. But you were there. You made it better.

“Alright, I’m ready to go,” Dustin strolls up to the counter and sets his hands on his hips, impatient and demanding as always. You smile at him.

“Get the high score?”

“You know it! You better tell me if anyone beats it.”

“Always do, Dusty.”

He gives you that toothy grin that you love. He really is a great kid. He then turns to Eddie and gives him a look that said ‘let’s go.’

“Well, duty calls. It was nice to see you.”

“You too, Eddie. See you.”

“Bye, pretty.”

He’s out the door before you can properly react to his term of endearment. You certainly could get used to hearing it from him, though.

In the van, Dustin eyes Eddie before saying, “so did you ask her out?”

“What?”

Dustin huffs, like it’s obvious. “You were all oh my gosh, swoon, as soon as you saw her. Seriously.”

“I was not,” was he? Eddie had no idea what he was feeling but he knew that you were pretty, and that he wanted to spend time with you again. That was it.

“You were! She was too, so you guys should totally date.”

“Listen here, Henderson. I’m the elder, so I give the advice and make the decisions. It’s not like that, just haven’t seen her in a long time.”

“Sure.”

It’s the weekend after that day at the arcade and your friends have managed to wrangle you into a night out. You weren’t opposed to going it, you just had to be in the right mood. That mood didn’t come until they told you Corroded Coffin would be playing.

Eddie’s band.

You don’t want to admit it, but you’ve been waiting for him to come in again since last time. And every time Dustin walked in, you’d peek behind him to see if Eddie would be following. So far, he never was, so you took this chance to see him again.

It worked, because he was on stage when you walked in. You froze for a moment, taking him in. He was playing his guitar, and there was sweat dripping from his forehead and you don’t think you’ve ever seen anything hotter. He was really something.

Your friends tugged you over to the bar, forcing your attention away from Eddie. You took turns placing your orders and grabbing your drinks.

Eventually, you made your way to the dance floor with your small group. You didn’t think you’d have fun, but you were. Letting loose and moving along with the songs Eddie and his band were playing.

You spared a glance over to the stage, and Eddie was already looking at you when you glanced at him. Your eyes locked and he gave you a smirk before looking back at his guitar. He seemed like a whole new person up there, confident and free.

It was a great sight to see. Him in his element.

Each time you looked over at Eddie, he’d be looking, too. Or at least, you were convinced he was. Sometimes he’d smile, or wink, and sometimes he’d just look away as if he’d been caught. It was a push and pull and you were bathing in the slightest attention from him.

Closer to the end of his set, you drifted off to the bar, taking a seat and really watching him play. The whole band was incredible, but you couldn’t get your eyes off of Eddie and you’re pretty sure he knew it. Your friends were still dancing away, some with partners for the night.

When the last song was played, you were determined to be the loudest one cheering.

Eddie was feeling a lot. Ecstatic that you showed up, that you looked at him so much during his set and that you shied away from him every time he’d give you an expression back. It was cute. He was nervous too, though. Nervous to know what you thought about his music and his performance. You just made him nervous in general.

He still wanted to talk to you. To hear you laugh and see you smile up close. God, maybe Dustin was right.

Gareth came up behind Eddie backstage, a hand on his shoulder. “Good one tonight, right? Even saw you making goo goo eyes.”

“Wha- Goo goo eyes?”

“Yes. So will you introduce me?”

“Gareth, she went to school with us. You literally know each other.”

His friend huffs, “okay. Re-introduce, then.”

“Fine.”

Eddie and Gareth make their way through the crowded bar, the Hideout. The former spots you easily, from your black Doc Martens all the way up to your hair. He takes the seat next to you, Gareth on his other side.

“Hi, pretty.”

It takes you a second to recover from the nickname. “Oh! Hi, Eddie. And Gareth. You guys were amazing.”

Eddie’s beaming at the praise. He treasures his music and to hear that you enjoyed it means a lot to him. Like, a lot.

“Thank you. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Eddie was close to you, his arm brushing against yours.

“Me three!” You had almost forgotten Gareth was there.

You strike up a conversation with him, though. Asking about the band and how Gareth likes it. He’s kind, and you think he’d get along with one of your friends so you beckon her over and introduce them. She and Gareth are lost in their own chat, so you get Eddie to yourself once more.

“So, you liked it?”

“Liked it? Eddie, you guys are insanely good. I loved it. You look so alive up there, like it’s where you belong.”

His heart was soaring. The way that you could see how much he loved to perform, that you could tell he loved it from one single set. He was amazed by you.

“Thank you,” he looks down, blushing. “I’m happy you think so. Next time you come see me let me know, I’ll get you to stand sidestage, sound good?”

Holy shit. “Yeah. Perfect, actually.”

You can’t believe you and Eddie hadn’t become friends until now, until Dustin dragged him into the arcade. You wish that you’d been closer to him in school, that you could’ve had years of his company already.

At least you know him now.

“So, how do you like working at the arcade?”

“It’s alright. Loud, and sometimes boring. Dustin and his friends brighten it up. They’re great kids.”

“They are. Shitheads, too.”

You laugh, a small one, but it’s there. Eddie feels accomplished that he’s the one who drew it out of you.

“Yeah they are. You do anything for work other than music?”

And so, the small talk grows from there. He learns about your hobbies and you learn about his life with his uncle and everything. It’s nice, and it’s rare to find someone so easy to talk to for you.

At some point, Gareth and his other band mates pull Eddie away for a second. The friend you’d set up with Gareth is with them, for some reason.

When they’re far enough away, she speaks first. “She likes you, Eddie,” before he can protest she continues, “trust me. I’m her friend, and I can tell.”

“You should ask her out, dude,” Gareth is next to talk.

His sentence is followed by agreements from everyone else.

“No way, guys. We’ve talked like twice. It’s too soon, okay?”

“No it’s not. Come on, man.”

“Maybe.”

He leaves with that, back to find you. He wants to ask you out, he does. He’s just afraid that you’ll say no, that he’ll scare you off. So, he decides he’ll wait. As long as you need him to.

What he doesn’t know is that you’re eagerly waiting for him to make a move.

“Sorry ‘bout that.”

“No problem.”

“So, where were we?”

“Mmm, something about…” You glance at his lips, the next word coming out quiet. “I don’t remember.”

His gaze flicks between your eyes and your mouth, he thinks you’re about to kiss him. Maybe he doesn’t have to wait too long after all.

But, before you can make contact, your friend taps your shoulder, whispers something, and runs off to the washroom.

“Oh gosh,” you look at Eddie, an apology written on your face. “I’m sorry, I have to go. My friend, she’s throwing up and-”

“Shh. It’s fine. Until next time, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You stand up, and so does he. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him down for a hug. His arms hold your waist tightly, his head tucked against yours. It was really, really nice. You breathe in his scent, he’s doing the same.

It's a bit before you pull away.

“Bye, Eddie.”

“See ya, pretty girl.”

You find it really hard to walk away from him, but your friend needs help and you’re not one to abandon them, so you leave.

The next time you see Eddie he’s yet again in his element; leading a Dungeons and Dragons campaign with Hellfire.

During Dustin’s latest visit to the arcade, he informed you of the week's meeting, and how excited he was for it. You couldn’t stop yourself from asking if you could tag along, if you could watch. He was quick to say yes, eager to get you and Eddie in the same room again, this time with backup.

You were excited to see Eddie doing something he loves once more. You were excited to see him in general, honestly.

His friends also seemed great, and you wanted to meet them all properly. Dustin assured you they’re great, and that you’ll get along just fine. You believed him.

When Eddie found out you were coming, he was nervous. He didn’t know what you’d think and he didn’t want you to think he was weird. He didn’t want you to look at him the way everyone else did. Like he was a freak, someone who didn’t belong. He never cared so much about what people thought. Not until he met you.

On the night of the campaign, he’s jittery. He fiddles with his rings more than usual, twisting them around his fingers, taking them on and off, anything that will keep his hands occupied. He messed with his hair enough that he had to try to tame it before you arrive.

You leave earlier than Dustin told you to, and you’re not sure if it’s because you just want to make sure you aren’t late or if it’s to get some time alone with Eddie before everyone else gets there. You weren’t used to feeling this way about someone, to have the urge to see them and speak with them as much as you could. To feel a pull.

The drive to Eddie’s trailer is spent psyching yourself up, giving yourself a pep talk and some time to figure out what you’ll even say when you get there. You think you want to flirt with him, more obviously than you have been but you’ve never been good at that. Eye contact and shy smiles were sort of all you could muster.

Parked outside of Eddie’s, you flip down your car mirror to make sure you can deem yourself presentable. You run your pinky under your eyes to smudge your eyeliner out and brush away mascara flakes from the day, you apply a new layer of lip gloss, you’re about to check on your hair when a knock on your car window startles you.

It’s Eddie. Fuck, how much of that did he see, you wonder.

The answer is pretty much all of it. Unbeknownst to you, Eddie went outside as soon as saw your car pull up through his window. He stood on the porch for a second, but decided he’d rather say hi and hear your voice. He thinks it’s really sweet that you felt the need to touch up your makeup before seeing him, even though he thinks it’s completely unnecessary. It’s sweet, nonetheless.

Once your car is shut off, he opens your door and holds out a hand for you, “m’lady.”

“Thanks,” you take it and get out of the car. You decide to pull him into a hug, your arms around his neck to pull him in, just like you did at the Hideout. “Hi, Eddie.”

He hugs you right back, chin perched on your shoulder and nose buried in your hair. He squeezes you as he greets you, “hi, pretty.”

Reluctantly, he pulls away from you to look at your face, the color of your eyes and the way your eyeliner brings them out. He thinks the nickname he’s given you is quite perfect, because you really are pretty. Your signature boots on your feet and the rings on your fingers that match his nicely, chunky and silver.

If anyone was made for him, he’s pretty sure it’s you. He has no idea how to tell you that.

“Come on,” he leads you up the few steps to his front door, opening it and beckoning you inside. He stays by the door while you take a look around, shy about the lack of space he has, but it’s home.

“It looks so cozy in here,” and you’re being honest. The blankets thrown about the living room and the pillows on the couch, the soft lighting and the slightly messy kitchen. It looks lived in and you love that.

“I’m sorry it’s a mess. And kinda small,” he scratches the back of his neck.

“It’s great, Eddie. Honest.”

He smiles at you, close-mouthed and small, but a smile. You hate that he feels bad about where he’s living, that he feels the need to apologize for it. You walk back over to him and tug him to the couch, sitting down and waiting for him to do the same.

You keep your hand on his arm for longer than necessary.

“So, what should I expect? I’ve never actually seen anyone play DnD, only heard Dusty talk about it.”

“It gets kinda loud, but it’s ‘cause we’re all sort of invested in it. I just hope we don’t scare you off because of it.”

“You could never, trust me.”

Eddie’s struck by the sincerity in your tone, the way you keep your eyes on his when you say it. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so convinced that someone wants to stick around, that he’s ever believed them. But you, you have a way of speaking that makes him trust everything you say, soft and kind and it eases him like a glass of water on a hot Hawkins summer day.

He’s sort of lost in you, his eyes flickering across your face and he notes a stray strand of hair that’s fallen over your forehead. He reaches out and pushes it back, his touch light as ever but your skin burns where his fingers were all the same.

You think you’re about to kiss yet again when heavy-handed knocks on the door snap you both out of it.

From then on, the group builds up until everyone is there, gathered around Eddie’s coffee table on pillows while you sit on the couch and watch.

He was right, the atmosphere is rowdy, sort of chaotic but it’s full of passion and you can see why they enjoy the game so much. It’s exciting, even for you: someone who knows almost nothing about it. You can't help but smile when they seem to be winning, to cheer when they do.

Through it all, though, your focus was mainly on Eddie. He was so animated, so lively in his task to narrate the game that it filled the room, a contagious energy that’s undeniable. Every single person in that room was so invested, so thrilled and it was because of him. You were kinda, sort of, maybe in awe of him and the way he moved. The authority he seemed to hold.

Once the session ended, you pulled him aside. “That was something else, Eddie, really.”

“Like in a good way?”

“Of course! I could watch you for hours, you’re so captivating.”

He’s blushing. He’s not the best at taking compliments and coming from you, he’s even more bashful about them.

“Thank you,” he smiles, this time it’s a full one. Boyish and wide.

“Thank you for letting me come watch. I don’t really wanna leave but…I’m working tomorrow.”

“It’s no problem, I’m glad you were here. I’ll walk you.”

He does, out the door and right to your car. You both pause at your car door. You lean against it, back against your vehicle and Eddie lets his arms rest on the roof of it, caging you between them. It’s a position that keeps you close to each other.

“Thanks again for having me. I had a really good time.”

“You’re sweet. And welcome anytime.”

There’s a stillness in the air, a question lingering of will you or won’t you kiss. Both of you can feel it, neither of you lean in for a while. When Eddie does, he gets nervous at the last second and swerves to kiss your cheek instead. You hide your disappointment.

He then pulls you into the hug that feels so familiar, easy.

“See you, pretty.”

“Bye.”

He lets you go and heads back inside, and you drive away. When he opens the door, everyone’s looking at him.

“What?”

“Fucks sake, Eddie,” Dustin huffs.

“What?” He repeats

“Dude. Really? You didn’t even kiss her?” Jeff is next to talk, as if it’s that easy.

“Did you at least ask her out?” Gareth asks.

“Um,” Eddie’s feeling put on the spot, “no..?”

“Eddie!” They all say it at the same time.

“If you don’t get your shit together and ask her out, I swear.”

Eddie can’t even keep track of who’s saying what, all he knows is that they’re saying ‘it’s so obvious,’ and ‘are you that dumb?’

The one that sticks with him is when Dustin says, “she couldn’t even stop looking at you. Smiling like a fool the entire time. It’s kind of gross.”

Fuck, he likes you so much. The possibility that you like him too is enough to get him to devise a plan. With the help of Hellfire, of course.

Eddie had the plan ready the night of the meeting, but it took him nearly a week to get the courage to actually go through with it. It wasn’t major; he’d show up just before you close at work with some food, talk to you over dinner sort of like a date, seal the deal by asking you out for real. Hopefully kissing you.

You had a long day at the arcade. The people were extra noisy and time went by extra slowly. You couldn’t help but hope that Dustin and his friends would come in. That they’d bring Eddie, too. Every time the door opened you’d check for that familiar head of hair. No luck.

To make it all worse, five minutes before closing you hear the door open once more. You throw your head back and sigh in defeat. Longest day ever.

“Sorry, we’re closing!” You put on your ‘customer service voice,’ cheery and overly kind.

“‘S just me, pretty! Can I come in?”

You perk up right away because that’s Eddie’s voice and you know it. You make your way to the door and the smile that blooms on your face at the sight of him is so wide it’s kind of pathetic. You like him so much.

“Eddie!” You wrap him in a hug.

“Oh,” he’s surprised, you’ve never been so enthusiastic to see anyone, he doesn’t think. He doesn’t hesitate to hug you back, “hi.”

You squeeze him tight before pulling away, “sorry. Hi.”

You take a small step back, slightly embarrassed that you pounced on him so quickly, but you’d been wanting to see him all day and here he was. He looked pretty, his hair damp like he showered before coming, his cheeks a little flushed.

“Brought some food. Eat with me?” He holds up the takeout bag held in his hand.

“Yes, please.”

You lock the door and flip the sign to closed, then gesture for him to follow you into the office so you could eat at the desk together. He trails behind you, admires the way you walk and your outfit of the day.

The two of you sit down, and Eddie unpacks the bag, smiling proudly when you tell him he got your order perfectly. He’ll remember to thank Dustin for that later. You eat together and it’s nice, it’s peaceful.

He asks about your day, you tell him and do the same. You could easily get used to this. Eddie with you for dinner, the conversation and the way he’s able to make you laugh without really trying. Everything stays light while you have your meal.

At one point, Eddie leans forward and wipes something away from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. Neither of you say anything about it.

Once the table’s cleared, Eddie prepares himself to tell you how he feels, to ask you out. He’s nervous, of course he is, but he feels comfortable around you and if the dinner you just had was in any way similar to what a date would feel like, he needs to ask.

“So,” he starts. “I actually came here to talk to you about something.”

You look at him, showing him he’s got your attention fully and wait for him to continue. You’re really, really hoping he’ll say what you think he’s going to.

“I.. um.” He fumbles with his words, takes a deep breath, and tries again. “I wanted to know if you’ll go out with me? Like a real date?”

“Really? Me?”

You want to say yes, you want to scream it, but you need to be sure that he means it. If his actions tell you anything, he certainly does.

“Are you kidding?” He pulls your chair closer to his, reaches for your hand and holds it. “Yes, you. I like you. An insane amount and I have since that kid dragged me in here. I’m glad he did because we got to talk and I was like, wow, you know? And-”

“Eddie?” You cut him off.

“Yeah?”

“I like you an insane amount, too. Will you kiss me?”

“Holy shit.” He whispers, then, his mouth is on yours.

He kisses you like he’s been starving for it. You know you have. It’s sort of messy, but it’s slow and careful at the same time. He holds your neck softly, just enough to angle your head the way he wants, and you love every second of it.

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way before in his life. No, he knows he hasn’t. Kissing you is addicting to him, and now that he’s done it once he doesn’t know if he can hold himself back. Though, by the way you’re pulling him closer by his shirt, he doesn’t believe he’ll need to with you.

You pull away only when you need the air, your forehead against Eddie’s and hands still holding his shirt. A satisfied smile spreads across your face.

“Does that mean you’ll let me take you out, pretty?” He asks.

“Obviously.”

4K notes · View notes

sirensarecallingmehome · 2 years

Note

Hi, me again 🥰

An Eddie/Roan/Reader request:

-I'd still love to see reader dealing with a Roan tantrum. She's just so sweet to reader, and I would just love to see the reader realize Eddie wasn't exaggerating (I mean her dad is a Rockstar so you know she's got a set of pipes for screaming) -I just think it'd be sweet to see reader process it all, try to be patient and Eddie catches them dealing with it and tries not to step in to see how they handles it alone?

baby's first tantrum but r is the baby! tysm for ur request! ♡ fem!reader

Eddie's daughter, Roan, has become dead set on helping. It's extremely sweet and makes very practical sense — one day, she'll have to learn how to cook and clean and help out around the house. But for now she's small, she's clumsy, and you don't want her to get hurt. Especially on your watch.

She doesn't like this at all, unfortunately.

"I want to!" she demands.

She's standing by your hip, vying for the knife in your hand with arms almost long enough to reach. She nearly grabs a hold of the chopping board.

You push it back and frown at her.

"Aw, babe. I'm sorry, it's super dangerous."

Roan glares at you. You're not surprised, exactly. She's not always happy because kids just aren't, her emotions are finicky and undecided as a tightrope walk. You've seen her show off before and Eddie's warned you of her tantrums.

You're not surprised, but certainly not well-equipped.

"I want to do it," she says fiercely.

"Babe," you say again, startled at her passion, "you gotta give this one a miss."

"Let me do it!"

You start to worry. You can't give her what she wants, she can't handle the knife. She looks like she, in Eddie's words, is about to go nuclear. What if you don't let her and she hates you for it and you become an evil stepmother figure, rather than somebody she really seems to adore?

She leaps for the knife.

You startle and push it all away from her.

"No," you say. Loud with surprise rather than any anger.

Roan scowls at you, drops to the floor, and starts to sob. It's a cruel kind of sobbing, piercing and outraged. She sits on her knees with her hands moving toward her hair and cries. She sounds like a tornado siren. It's terrifying and grating and honestly astounding, too many things, to hear her and watch her explode like this.

You wipe your hands on a rag and sit down on the floor next to her.

She looks at you from under a low brow and cries, "I want to help."

"I can't let you use the knife, sweetheart, it's very dangerous." You offer a hand. She pushes it away. "If you hurt yourself with it it would really upset me. And it would upset your dad, too."

She carries on crying.

"Roan, is there something I can do?" you ask, using a soft and bubbly tone in hopes of enticing her.

She ignores you for a while, and then warbles, "I want to help."

"You can help me, princess," you say firmly, prying one of her hands from her hair. You shuffle closer to her across the linoleum floor to rub at her head where she'd been pulling it. "You can help me with lots of other things. Things that are much more fun."

"I want to do the- the-"

"The chopping?" you finish sympathetically.

"Yes."

"I know." Her hair is very, very soft under your hands. You pet back her curls affectionately, unnerved by her ragged breathing. "I know you want to do the chopping, because you're so lovely and helpful. That's why I think you'll be really good at the squeezing."

She pauses. A very big tear rolls down her cheek. "Squeezing?"

You hum. "Yeah, the squeezing. But I'm not sure, how big are your hands? Can I see them?"

She shows you both of her hands.

You bring your finger the her palm and draw a circle until she's tickled.

"I think they should be big enough, if you want to do it. I..." You wipe her cheeks, an uncomfortable ache in your chest at seeing her upset with you. "I know you want to do the chopping, and one day you'll be all grown up and you can do it. But if you still want to help me now, then I think you'll be the best squeezer ever."

Roan grabs a hold of your elbow with both hands, almost cuddling your arm.

"Do you want a hug, princess?" you murmur.

She goes to stand. You lift her up before she can and bundle her close to your chest, feeling immensely smug with yourself and very affectionate for the small girl in your hands.

"I really-" She shudders with some lingering upset. "Really wanted to help with chopping."

You rub her back. "I know."

She cries for a little while longer. You wonder what it feels like to experience such big emotions in such a tiny body. Her frame shakes with it.

"You're such a good girl, Roan," you praise softly, kissing the top of her head indulgently.

She sits back to look at your face.

You smile tentatively. When she smiles back you give her a better one, relieved that she's happy. Relieved that you seem to have navigated your first Roan tantrum successfully. Still well-liked. And all without Eddie.

Speaking of.

You look up, see a flash of dark hair.

"Hey, hotshot, you can reveal yourself."

Eddie turns the corner into the kitchen like he hadn't been hiding in the hallway. He's beaming, though there's definitely some guilt to be found in it, more when he plops down on the floor beside you both.

"Hey, guys."

"Where've you been?" you ask.

"Oh, you know. Around." He leans down to meet Roan's eyes.

She smiles at him.

"There's my girl." Kisses for everyone. Eddie drops his lips to her cheeks and then your own before helping you both up. "I heard a rumour about squeezing things. Are you gonna help wash the green stuff?"

"The lettuce," you butt in.

"The lettuce," he repeats, forcing a shiver as he picks Roan up from under the armpits and sits her beside the sink.

"This parts important, 'cos otherwise we might be eating bugs for dinner. Think you can do it?" he asks her.

She nods very seriously. Eddie rewards her determination with a colander and the lettuce from the fridge and instructs her to go ham. Soon, the cold faucet is running full pelt and splashing water everywhere, and the two of them are shrieking trying to keep all the lettuce leaves together in the pot.

Eddie catches you laughing and rubs him cold, wet hands in your arm.

"I'm sorry for not helping you," he says over the furious rushing water. "Just wanted to see how you'd do."

"Did I pass?"

"It's not about passing."

He kisses you extremely nicely, cold hands aside. You take it for a pass, whether he thinks of it like that or not.

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sirensarecallingmehome · 2 years

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Maybe one where Eddie and reader are asleep at night in his bed and he wakes up in the middle of the night to see reader isn’t there but he hears giggling in the living room/kitchen and he gets up and sees her and roan just talking and maybe eating a bit of cookies or drinking milk or something and Eddie joins his girls 😌

this is very sweet, thank you for your request ♥ fem!reader

It's very dark when Eddie wakes. He stretches his hand across the short length of sheet where he's hoping he might find you and comes up empty.

Night seeps in through the closed curtains. His room smells like you, your shampoos and perfumes, your lotion, your skin. But you're nowhere to be seen, and he blinks against the emptiness of the room with a confused frown.

It's unusual to say the least. Eddie doesn't often wake up when you're beside him, the last time had been because Roan, his troublesome, adorable daughter, had wormed her way between you both and slept with the world's biggest smile on her face. He decides you must be in the bathroom and lets his eyes close again. He can't sleep until you're back.

You don't come back. He scrunches up his face, rubs his stubbly jaw and pulls himself into a sitting position. He'd slept so heavy his back aches with it, spine curving inward. There's a sudden giggle, sharp and so obviously his little girl that he scrounges for a hair tie to pull his curls from his face and stands, gearing up to investigate.

He tries to mask his footfall down the hall, taking flat steps one after another, sock to cushy rug. Roan's laughter floats down to meet him, scratchy with tired but always as pretty as the very first time she'd laughed when she was a baby.

At the table, Roan sits in her special chair — a very ordinary chair with two pillows stacked on top of one another so she can see over the table — with a chocolate chip cookie in one hand, a warm glass of milk in the other. The glass has fogged between her small fingers to form a clandestine print.

Predictably, you sit in the chair beside her with your own glass and a paper towel with an untouched cookie laid on top. Your hair's out of your face for sleep and Eddie goes crazy at the sight of you. Your eyes are puffy with fatigue, so obviously tired as you watch Roan chatter but you don't stop smiling for a second.

It floors him. He's seen it hundreds of times before, and it still floors him. Your pajama top falls dishevelled off of your shoulder, your pants are creased. You're a rumpled mess of a girl and all Eddie wants to do is spirit you and his baby back to bed where you can get the rest you both clearly need.

As if driving home his point, Roan yawns big and nearly drops the cookie she's holding, a smudge of melted chocolate on her cheek stretching with the motion.

"And he's your friend?" you ask her.

Roan nods and focuses very hard on fitting her cookie back into the glass of milk. She holds it there for a few seconds, eyes squinting, says, "Yeah, he's my friend," and drops the cookie into the glass. Milk splashes up the sides and she gasps in surprise.

Eddie leans his weight against the doorway, too far in to announce himself and extremely interested in this mysterious friend.

"You want him to be your boyfriend?" you ask knowingly, taking the glass from her hand gently to fish out her cookie. Only a half inch remains dry of milk. "Babe, do you want a new cookie?"

Boyfriend?

She takes the softened cookie and emits a distinctly gremlin-like sound, eating it with a sticky, doughy smile. "Thank you," she says.

I'm such a good dad, Eddie thinks smugly. The smugness doesn't last.

"Who wants a boyfriend?" he asks.

You jump. Roan turns five shades of pink and crams what's left of her cookie into her mouth rather than answer, a tactic he uses all the time and wishes she'd never caught onto.

"Me," you say, clearly trying to take the fall. "You're just not enough for me, Edster."

"Well, say it to my face," he sighs, all dramatics as he sits down at the table and helps himself to a cookie.

It doesn't take more than one bite for him to realise why you hadn't been eating your own; eating candy after hours as an adult is near impossible. It's like everything gets sweeter as you get older.

He sets his gaze on Roan. "You have something to tell me?" Then, at her shocked face, "Or not, sweetheart. You don't have to tell me. But you do, so you should."

You snort and cough like you're trying to hide it from over the rim of your cup, giving him a look. You shake your head slowly from side to side. Don't be mean, it says.

I'm her dad, he wants to say in return. If I can't tease her a little, what's the point?

"Nothing to tell," Roan says lightly.

Again, Eddie curses himself for being her sole role model for near three quarters of her life. The damage is done, and she's an adorable, sly menace of a girl. He wouldn't have her any other way.

He feels pretty bad for the way her face has turned tomato red, though.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to," he says softly, simply, reaching for her glass. He waits for her to push it toward him before he takes it and has a small sip.

You yawn and cover your face with the back of your hand. "I'm soooo tired."

"I was thinking it's a little late for a snack," Eddie says.

You start stretching, arms raised high and then behind your head until you've clicked three separate times. "I got up to pee and hit the toothbrush holder off of the sink. Woke poor Ro up and thought I'd," — you yawn here but keep talking anyhow, words all warped with your exhale, "make it up to her with something warm. I'm sorry."

The apology is added like an afterthought but sounds genuine. He wants to keep yanking your chain, maybe convince you that he's mad so he can see the amusing blaze of injustice in your eyes when he confesses. He really likes how you look when you're angry, but you don't get angry with him often. A white lie to see your eyebrows pinch and your lips all pressed together feels worth it.

But. You're tired, and he's tired, and messing with you in good faith is fun but not nearly as fun as assuaging your fears and getting a kiss for his efforts.

"It's alright," he says, smile all lopsided as you stand, "no harm done, right? It's Saturday."

You round Roan's chair and kiss the top of his head. "It's Sunday," you correct into his hair, punctuating with another kiss.

You ruffle the shorter front pieces of his hair with a happy sigh and turn to leave. "I have to go back to bed, my sweethearts. Lest I collapse in your kitchen."

Your voice drifts away as you do. Eddie and Roan share a look of humour and disbelief all rolled up into one. How quickly you jump ship.

"She sounds a bit too much like me lately," he says.

"Too much," Roan agrees severely.

He beams and pushes the small mess you've made into the middle of the table to be cleaned in the morning, happy enough that the idea of having to clean doesn't bother him at all, not one bit.

"Are you feeling ready to go back to bed?" he asks. Rather generously, he thinks. Most parents would say Okay, you had your treat. Bed time now. And they'd be well within their rights to.

She looks really cute, is all. Her curls are mussed by sleep, the ones closer to her neck tight with perspiration and the ones toward the back turned to frizz. He pushes his chair across the floor to stroke a particularly messy one away from her forehead and behind her soft ear.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" he asks.

"Daddy!"

"Sorry, sorry. It's okay if you do. You can tell me, too, and not just Y/N."

She shifts around in her seat. Eddie licks his thumb to wipe the chocolate chip remnants from her cheek and waits, thinking maybe she has something to say but needs to work up the courage first.

"It's a mommy thing," she says finally, shy, eyes to the table.

"Is that so?" he asks, just as quiet.

"Princess Peony talks to her mom about the prince," she says, "not her dad."

Eddie cups her cheek in his palm and holds her gaze. She has big brown eyes, so dark the pupil and the iris sink into one another.

"Okay," he says.

She slowly starts to smile, and then she huffs a laugh more breath than sound and seeks out her glass to finish her milk.

Eddie pulls his hand from her face and he and Roan stand almost in tandem. Or rather, he stands and Roan slides off of her chair gracelessly, shirt riding up her back.

Eddie takes the time to neaten it. He doesn't know why, she's only gonna writhe in her sleep and wake up in a worse state in a few hours. It just feels nice. He thinks it's the kind of thing his mom would've done for him.

"If you want to tell me about your boyfriend-" he begins, quickly amending when Roan squeaks her unhappiness, "your friend, then that's okay too. Just 'cos Princess Peony doesn't tell her daddy doesn't mean you can't. Okay?"

"Okay," she says. Eddie suspects she agrees to stop him from embarrassing her any further.

He nods to himself and considers it a job kind of well done, hand behind Roan's shoulders to encourage her back down the hall to her room.

"Kiss before bed?" he asks, leaning down with lips already pouted.

She rejects his offer. "Maybe... Maybe I can be in your bed."

He kisses her quick and pretends to think about it, "I don't know, mini-me, my kidney's still bruised from last week."

"Please?" she says, inescapable doe eyes peering up at him pleadingly.

He taps his chin. Wizened, his face must go through all manner of thoughtfulness. Roan, in her suspense, says, "Please please please please please-"

Eddie covers her mouth. She licks him. He blows up his cheeks and grabs her under the armpits, ignoring her nervous giggling and apologies.

You don't open your eyes as they approach, but you scoot to the very end of the bed to make room for one extra body. Eddie plops her down beside you and climbs right in, eager to sleep away the morning with his girls.

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sirensarecallingmehome · 2 years

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This was last year’s Halloween tree. I wanna do another one so bad, but I want to do it a little differently.

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sirensarecallingmehome · 2 years

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The Knight and the Maiden

Fem!virgin!reader x soft!dom!Eddie

Overview: Eddie comes to your rescue, making you see him in a new light.

A/N: ahhhhh this was a cute idea, and had so much love off of my last post decided I had to share. No use of Y/N.

Warnings: *implications of SA* but it doesn't actually happen (nothing to do with Eddie), some of the cheesiest fluff, Eddie thinking he's not good enough (we love you Eddie), smutty smutty smut, (minors DNI or I'll release the hounds) reader uses she/her pronouns, virgin!reader, implied experienced!Eddie, oral (f receiving), protected sex, loss of reader virginity.

6.8k words

Gut wrenching sobs draw up from the pit of your stomach and out of your eyes, face scrunched and hot and wet. The sort of uncontrollable sobs that shake your body and make your head start to pound, tears falling down onto your summer dress.

"Hey, hey now, shhhhhh it's ok, I've got you, Eddie's got you, it's ok, just breathe." Eddie Munson has his arm around your shoulder; you are pouring your heart out whilst sitting on the edge of his couch, his soothing voice in your ear, trying to reach you, to settle you.

It helps. You try and take deep, shaking breaths, feeling the tears start to subside, your eyes sore and stinging.

Seems strange an hour ago you were at a house party in town with your friends, drinking a couple of beers, carefree and mischievous, and now you're pouring your heart out to Eddie Munson, Hawkins' resident metalhead weirdo and weed supplier. You'd seen him at school, who hadn't? He had a bit of a reputation as a freak and a bad boy, but he'd only ever been kind to you. He had offered you a ride home once when it was raining but your friend showed at the last minute. Then there was that time in English class when you missed your chair and went to sit down, landing on your ass, and you wanted to die of embarrassment. He was the only one to jump up and give you a hand whilst everyone else laughed at you. Thanking him, he had just winked at you and that was it, but it had set butterflies loose in your tummy.

You look down through wet lashes at his lap. A large hand with slender fingers and huge silver rings rests on his jean clad legs. There's a rip at the knee exposing pale skin, the chain from his jeans hanging to one side sandwiched between the pair of you, cold against your thinly clad leg.

"Hey, look at me, I'm gonna get you some water okay, just stay there." You look up at kind, concerned dark eyes, and nod. He stands up and holds your shoulder lightly for a second, flashes a tight lipped smile, then turns to grab a water from the kitchen.

He returns after a bit of rummaging with a water bottle and a box of tissues. You take both gratefully, wiping your eyes and trying to blow your nose subtly, starting to feel self conscious. He holds a waste paper basket out at arms length and you throw the tissues in there, grabbing another to dry the tears that had dripped down your chin.

Whilst you take a sip of the water he sits back down, one leg curled on the seat, so he's turned to face you. One of his arms is draped on the back of the couch.

"Now, are you going to tell me why I had to chase down a pretty girl with my van?"

You giggle at that, holding the tissue to your mouth, turning to face him. He grins back at you.

He had kind of chased you down, it was true. You were high tailing it out of that party, running down the street like your life depended on it. White tennis shoes smacking the pavement, the summer dress with the sunflower print pulled behind you in the wake of your sprint.

You had heard the screech of tyres and whipped your head around in terror, blinded by headlights for a moment. Then there was Eddie, jogging towards you, and you don't know what came over you. You ran into his arms and clung onto him like he was a life raft and were lost at sea, your head buried into his chest, his arms wrapped around you. He was stroking your hair, making shushing noises, leading you to the passenger side of the van. You had gotten in, shaking all over and he offered to take you home, but you had managed to stutter out a no, explaining no one was home, and, well he just drove then. Sitting there you had tried to shake that grip of fear.

You look at him, his face a picture of concern as you struggle to form the words.

"I-I was at a house p-party and... well one of the basketball team, Kyle, he...." you look at him, lost.

He reaches out and grabs your hand, squeezing reassurance.

You dont know how to say it so you just blurt it out. "He took me upstairs and kissed me and I didn't like it and I tried to pull away and he tried to..." your head drops to your chest, deflated, the air pulled out of your lungs.

He loosens his grip on your hand, reaches over and pulls your chin up ever so gently, searching your eyes.

"Did he... did he touch you?" He asks lowly.

"No, no not like that, he just grabbed my leg, and then my wrist when I tried to leave. I'm ok now, really." You smile at him weakly.

A steely gaze meets your eye, it's almost frightening. You watch his jaw clench, his eyes turn away from you with a murderous look.

"Fucking entitled prick, if I was there I swear I would have fucking ended him." A flush creeps up his neck.

Turning back to you he reaches out his hands and you flinch. He hovers over your hand, looking up at you for confirmation, and you nod. He takes your wrist softly, turning it over, looking to see if you had any marks. There's a slight redness around your wrist but it seems to be fading already. Seemingly without thinking he leans towards you and plants the dantiest peck on your wrist, then remembers himself and moves his head away in embarrassment, face flushing.

Your stomach tightens and you look at him, really look at him. The hard exterior you've seen strutting around school has melted away, leaving this kind, sweet boy in front of you, with his blushed cheeks, messy locks of hair and soft brown eyes.

You lean forward and plant a kiss on his lips. They feel soft and warm. He leans back in surprise.

"No no no, sweetheart, you dont have to do that."

You look him in the eyes then turn away, a blush creeping across your cheeks. You liked that, sweetheart.

"Its just... I just had my first kiss stolen from me by some creep. I... I wanted to give out my second to someone who... deserved it I suppose."

"Now I'm not so sure about that but thanks" He laughs, turning away to find his cigarettes in his jacket pocket, lighting one up and offering one to you. You look at him blankly and shake your head.

He chuckles, "should have known" and starts to smoke.

"Take that kiss as a thank you then."

"Oh yeah? I'm just a regular knight in shining..."

"...leather?"

He laughs out loud at that, grin plastered over his face.

"Yeah, I like that, metal."

You grin back at him, glad for the ease of his company. He smokes, looking lost in thought for a moment. When he reaches for the ashtray you lift up the hem of your dress, to inspect your thigh. You can see a slight pink patch, and just on the inside of your thigh a redder, sore patch. It looks like a thumb print. You suspect its going to leave a bruise.

You look up and Eddie is staring at it, mouth open.

"Jesus sweetheart did he do that to you?"

"Looks that way." You look at his face. "Why wanna kiss that one too?" Having no idea where that came from, but your eyes never leave his.

Eddie's face flushes crimson and he takes in a sharp breath. You stare into his eyes, unblinking. His eyebrows raise and disappear into his bangs as he sees you are being completely serious.

Slowly, hesitantly, he leans down, and places one hand on your knee. You feel his hot breath on your leg for a second, and a soft kiss being planted just to the side of the thumb print. He lingers for a second, his lips brushing your thigh, and you feel your stomach contract again, a tingle reaching your toes. Another kiss, just to the side of that, and then another. You gasp slightly, and squirm a little, enjoying his warmth on your thigh. Eddie moves his head then and sits back up, blushing beetroot.

"Ok so yeah that's a really bad idea." He says at you a little flustered.

"Its ok Eddie I basically asked you to."

"No you didn't, and you didn't ask him either." You see his jaw clench a little. You take his hands into yours and look at him.

"Eddie, I just. I like you. You're... adorable." You finish lamely.

"Adorable huh? I better work on my image" and he moves your small, delicate hands to his mouth, peppering your fingertips with kisses, using them as punctuation.

"You are kiss adorable kiss and sweet kiss and totally kiss out of my league." He releases your hands. You pout at him a little.

He laughs again, flashing you a grin, running his hand through his hair.

"I tell you what sweetheart maybe I should take you home, we can talk when you haven't had a drink or ran a mile."

"I- I dont... want to be alone."

He tilts his head to look at you and you melt.

"Ok, tell you what princess, let me sort out something, you can have my bed. I'll take the couch."

Eddie leads you to his room and passes you a thankfully clean, faded Iron Maiden t shirt.

"Something to sleep in." He mumbles. You take it gratefully as he grabs one of the pillows off the bed and a crumpled sheet off of the floor, taking them to the couch. You take the opportunity to get changed, peeling off the sundress, and bralette, and pull the t shirt over your head. Its big, and comforting, and smells like Eddie. You take moment, standing there in Eddie's room, in front of his mirror, admiring yourself in his t shirt and giggle to yourself. This is weird, but a good kind of weird.

"...so I've got a clean bed sheet for you" Eddie says bounding back into the room. "Oh shit sorry, should've knocked. Jesus." He says, taken aback, looking at you.

You smile and blush slightly, hiding behind your hair. He walks over to you and hands you the sheet. You absentmindedly tuck a few strands of your hair over your ear, trying to read his face.

"So, erm I think that shirts yours now."

"Why?"

"No way that I could look that pretty in it, seems a waste." He grins, and starts to leave the room.

"Goodnight, fair maiden" he turns and bows dramatically at you.

"Goodnight, Sir knight" you quip back at him, curtseying with the hem of the t shirt in your hand.

***************************

It was Monday and you were back at school. You couldn't help but think back to the strange events at the weekend. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but you remember waking up in Eddie's bed, surrounded by his scent, basking in it, not wanting to leave. You had taken some time then to look around his private sanctum, peruse the posters, marvel at his guitar, and blush at the sight of a pair of handcuffs on the wall. He had dropped you home in comfortable silence, thrusting the balled up iron Maiden t shirt you had worn in your delicate hands. He insisted. You had slept in it again last night. It still smelled a little of him.

Part of you was hoping to see him, but you didn't know how he would react to you. He had come to your rescue, but he would have probably done that for any girl. Then again, he had been so soft with you, treating you like bone china. You were starting to feel an ache that you had never felt before, deep in your stomach, any time you thought about him. Your fingers tingled when you remembered the sprinkling of kisses he had given you.

Walking down the hall in a daze, holding your textbooks in your arms, you hear lingering chuckles. You whip your head around, hoping you aren't the butt of some joke, but the whispers and laughter don't seem to be directed at you, but to the left of where you were walking.

Turning your head you see a green varcity jacket, an extremely red face, blond hair and a pout. Kyle. You felt a simmering fear, a pale shadow of the terror that had gripped you, but then you notice the reason for the chuckling. Kyle looks like he's just stepped out of the nurses office, with two purple black eyes and what appeared to be a broken nose. He glances in your direction and his eyes widen. Quickly looking away, he scurries out of sight down the hall.

You can't help but smirk, thinking for a second that karma must work, then it hits you. Seems an awfully big coincidence that Kyle's sporting a fresh broken nose after he tried it on with you just this weekend. You cross your fingers, wishing it to be happenstance, and if not at least hoping against hope Eddie wasn't stupid enough to get caught.

Later that day, in a break between periods, you finally saw him. He was walking past you in the hallway, glancing in your direction, a small smile on his lips. Grinning, you wave at him, which seems to surprise him. Bounding over, you tip toe and place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Thanks again Eds." You whisper at his pink tinged ear. He stares at you as if you just short circuited his brain.

"N-no problem Sweetheart." His composure lost for a split second, before that grin of his returns. You beam at him then walk away, ignoring the stares from your fellow students. You didn't care, especially seeing that you appeared to fluster him just as much as he does you.

Leaving school at the end of the day you spot him again next to his van. You sprint over to him, white skirt flapping at your thighs, the question you never got the chance to ask earlier burning in your mind.

"Woah princess wheres the fire? You need rescuing again?" He winks at you.

You slow down as you reach the van, one hand stretching out to his forearm for balance. He looks down at your hand but doesn't pull away.

"Sorry, I had a question and it couldn't wait."

"If its 'should I try out for track' it's a definite yes."

You laugh out loud at that, playfully smacking his arm. "No silly, I was just wondering if you had seen a certain jock some time this morning?" You tilt your head at him innocently.

He raises his hands as if in defence. You didn't need to say anything more, the look on his face said it all. He opens his mouth to sound something out, but before he does you smash your arms around his waist and pull him in for a fierce hug. He stiffens for a moment but then melts into your touch, one arm dropping to your back, the other hand trailing over your hair.

The embrace lasts longer than it probably should, but neither of you are pulling away. When you finally do, you look him in the face and stare at those beautiful brown doe eyes of his.

"Promise you didn't get into trouble over me?" You are surprised to feel your eyes begin to water.

Eddie looks back, shocked that you even care. Reaching out to hold your chin in his hand, his thumb runs over your jaw.

"Cross my heart. No one saw. Plus I doubt Jock Itch will want anyone knowing The Freak beat him up."

You hold your hand to his, cupping your jaw. "Please don't call yourself that." A tear manages to slip past your blinking eyelids. Eddie rubs it away with his thumb. "Sweet girl" he says to himself.

You pull your hand away and look down, suddenly feeling shy.

"I was wondering, if you aren't busy that is, I mean you probably are with your band or something, but you know I thought I'd ask, maybe..." you look at him, lost in your ramblings, your eyes begging him to save you.

"You wanna hang out?" He smiles softly at you.

"Yes! I mean yeah, sure that would be nice." You grin at him. He can't help but laugh at your eagerness.

"Well, then your chariot awaits, milady." He gives you an exaggerated bow, holding his hand out to you. You take it daintily in your own and he leads you to the passenger side of the van, opening the door with his other hand. You step in, and he closes the door behind you. For a second he stops, shakes his head in disbelief, then walks around to get in the van.

**************************

So, here you were, back at Eddie Munson's trailer. You had both demolished a pizza and were sitting cross legged on his bed discussing horror movies. You were actually finding some common ground, seeing that he found slasher films about as comical as you did.

"But I mean, come on, Freddy Krueger and the whole long arms thing??" You mimic stretching your arms out and waving them at Eddie like an octopus. "How is that supposed to be anything but laughable??"

Eddie's full on giggling at your puppet like movements, throwing his hand to his mouth. He reaches out and strokes you on the knee and you forget your own name for a second, just focusing on his hand stroking your bare leg.

You look into his eyes and see he is unabashedly staring straight back at you. You turn your head, cheeks glowing.

"Can I ask you a question princess?" Eddie says softly.

"Hmm." Eyes fixated on his hands, the way his rings graze your leg.

"Did you mean what you said the other night?" His face is smirking but theres a quiver to his voice that you arent used to, a vulnerability that's only there if you squint.

"You are going to have to remind me Eds," you reply, unable to meet his burning gaze.

"When you said you, er..."

"When I said I liked you? Yes. Yes I meant it."

"Oh" he said, brightly, his head tipping to one side like a puppy, "Can I ask, er, why?"

Laughing at that, it lets loose some of the butterflies that were in your stomach and you find the courage to look at him.

"You are an idiot Eddie Munson. You are sweet and kind, and funny, and charming, and..."

All of a sudden his hand is at your jaw, the other at your waist, and he is pulling you in for a delicate, hesitant kiss. You are surprised for a second, but once you register what is happening you try to move in to deepen the kiss but he had already pulled away, looking at you expectantly, concern filling his eyes.

"Handsome." You manage to say breathily.

"What?" His brow furrows.

"You rudely interrupted me. I was about to say handsome," and you press your lips against his, harder than the first time, mouths crushing together, your hand roaming into his hair. You pull at it, earning you a groan from Eddie. He pushes his tongue on your lips and you open your mouth to let him explore. You feel dizzy and hot all over. Every movement of his tongue is thrilling. You clamber to your knees knowing this is not enough, you need to be closer, to feel him pressed against you. His firm hands move to grip the backs of your thighs and you move closer, straddling him. His hands reach under your skirt, grabbing your rump, and you moan into his mouth. He pulls away, panting, searching your eyes.

"Is this ok?" He manages to breathe at you.

"Fuck yes." You stutter out and grab both sides of his face with your hands, pulling him in for another kiss. You can feel him smirking onto you. He breaks the kiss to gently nip at your neck.

"Wow you swore, don't think I've ever heard you curse before." He sucks your neck and you whimper.

"You seem to bring it out in me Eds." And you experimentally roll your hips into him. Eddie thinks he must have died and gone to heaven. Surely you of all people, the prettiest girl in all of Hawkins, couldn't possibly be grinding against him right now.

"Holy fuck sweetheart, wait...." Eddie pulls from your grip to look up at you. The strangest look is in his eyes, you can't quite place it. It looks like he's fighting an internal battle. His eyes seek yours.

Eddie sighs, "I like you, I've honestly liked you for a while now, but I really dont want to rush this, to rush you. You're fucking perfect, and you deserve, so much more than well... me."

"Eddie you aren't rushing anything. Just because I've not done anything... you know, doesnt mean I don't want to. I like you too, to be honest I never thought you even notice me." You look down embarrassed for a moment.

He takes your chin in his hand, and honestly you were loving the gesture. A warm feeling was starting to spread to your core.

"Look, sweetheart, how could I not notice you? I just, want you to be sure."

You mirror his movements, holding his chin in your hands. He looks stunned for a second gazing into your eyes.

"Eds, I'm sure. But you are right. We should take our time. If you want to. We can still keep doing this though right?"

You kiss him again, gently; this time your tongue sneaks out of your mouth and presses his bottom lip, asking for entry. He allows it, and you hesitantly rub your tongue onto his, delicately. His hands snake into your hair and you moan into his mouth again.

"Jesus Christ yes we can" he pecks your face, peppering kisses to your forehead, cheeks, even the tip of your nose. You giggle, scrunching your face at the sudden onslaught.

He stops and stares at you, holding both of your hands in his. You can feel his eyes piercing into you, asking a silent question.

"So, I can't believe I'm even asking this but, ha, do you wanna be my... girlfriend?" The last word was a whisper, as if it were a dream and he was frightened of waking.

"Eddie Munson, it would be an honour." Beaming at him, you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. He grins back at you, entirely unsure however long this spell you appear to be under was going to last, but happy to have you whilst he can.

**************************

The next few weeks consisted of you and Eddie, Eddie and you. He came to help you when you did your charity volunteering at the home. The old residents unsure of him at first but quickly coming to like him almost as much as you. You attended Hellfire, a spectator at first, but encouraged by Dustin and Mike to create a character, struggling with the rules but always guided by Eddie's firm hand. On nights when you were both free you tended to spend them at his trailer, cuddling, making out, and watching ridiculous horror movies.

It was perfect, honestly, but you couldnt help but feel that he was holding back. Or maybe you were holding back. There was a barrier between you. It was as if he had placed you on this perfect pedestal and he was afraid you would break if anything else were to happen. Maybe he thought if he pushed his luck you would end up running from him. Nothing could be further from the truth, however you were afraid to make the first move. You wanted him, needed him, but any courage you had melted away when you stared into those gorgeous eyes of his.

It was Friday night, and you were in Eddie's room. Eddie was sitting crossed legged on the bed, guitar in hand, with some note paper in front of him working on a song. Half a joint sat in the ashtray next to him. He wore his trademark black jeans but he was shirtless. You were leaning back into the pillows, supposedly looking at your math homework, but you couldn't help but steal glances at him, watching how his shoulder muscles rippled slightly when he played, staring at the contrast between his alabaster skin and dark tattoos. Shivering you squeezed your legs together, willing yourself to concentrate.

A soft knock on the door wakes you from your daydream. Eddie calls out to say it's ok to enter. Wayne appears in the doorway, Eddie's uncle.

"So I'm off to work kids, theres some leftover takeout in the fridge if you get hungry."

You smile up at him. "Thanks Mr Munson you're the best!"

"You are very welcome darlin," he nods at you.

Eddie waves a hand and Wayne leaves. You hear the door and then the sound of an engine.

"I swear he likes you more than me." Eddie looks over his shoulder grinning at you.

You pout at him "cant help it if I'm nicer to him than you are."

"Its that pretty face, you could get away with murder I swear."

"How do you know I haven't already." You wink at him. He laughs out loud at that, the sound echoing slightly against the trailer walls. To your frustration Eddie refocuses on his guitar. It seemed the only time he could put all his attention on something it was either playing guitar or creating D&D campaigns.

You wriggled in place, trying to get comfortable. The heat spreading between your legs was not helping. You sighed, irritated with your current condition and the lack of affection.

Eddie picks up on this and turns.

"You ok there princess?"

"No" you sigh, "I'm clearly not meant to join Mensa." You throw your pen onto the floor in his room. It might as well be the void.

He aughs and scoots over, leaning over you to hang his guitar back on the wall. Your breath sticks in your throat, taking in the smell of him. Weed, old spice and Eddie musk. The best combination in the world.

"It seems my fair maiden is troubled. May a good sir knight suggest a break?" He sits directly in front of you onto his heels, his thumbs rubbing into your thighs.

"Well I suppose I cant defeat the math demon without at least a short rest." You pout at him dramatically. He beams at you with pride.

"Looks like I'm turning you into a full on nerd sweetheart."

"You are corrupting me Eddie Munson." You look at him through your lashes, biting your bottom lip.

"Holy shit princess dont look at me like that or..."

You grab his shoulder. 'Or what?" And you mash your lips against his. He melts at your touch, hands moving to grip your waist, pulling you bodily towards him. You sit up on your knees, one hand moving into his hair, pulling it slightly since you know that makes him moan. He doesn't disappoint, groaning into you. You move your tongue into his mouth and press your body against his chest, your other hand on his back, pulling him impossibly closer.

You both break the kiss reluctantly, if only for the need to keep breathing. Your hands roam over his chest, stroking, touching, wanting to feel him as close as you could.

"Eddie... " you whisper.

"Yes sweetheart?" His warm hands ghost over the tops of your arms.

"Its not enough Eddie. I-I need you..." you move slowly, your hand reaching to his, moving it gradually to your chest, placing it on top of your breast. He wastes no time in stroking your chest, moving both hands to cup your breasts, rubbing his palms over your soft flesh. You feel his warmth through your clothes, wanting him closer, closer. A burning feeling travels through your limbs straight to the pit of your stomach. You look up at Eddie and see the lust in his eyes. He is utterly transfixed, staring at your bust as if it were the holy grail. The look on his face boosts your confidence, and you reach to the hem of your top, stretching it up and over your head, exposing your white cotton bra.

Eddie blushes crimson, entirely enthralled by you. He holds you by the sides, thumbs brushing ever so slightly over the cups of your bra.

"Jesus sweetheart are you sure?"

"Stop asking if I'm sure and just touch me Eds." You moan at him.

He smirks at you and rubs your breasts with both hands, his head lowering to plant kisses over your newly exposed flesh. "So soft and perfect" he says, seemingly to himself. He reaches around you to your back, fingers hovering over the clasp on your bra.

"Is this ok?" He looks up at you between kisses.

"Please." You whisper, breath getting heavier as you watch him.

In one deft movement he flicks your bra clasp open, startling you ever so slightly. His fingers lightly brush up to your shoulders and pull the straps down, releasing your breasts. He sits there almost hypnotised for a moment. You're about to wriggle out of his grasp, not used to this sort of attention on your bare flesh, when he takes one of your nipples into his mouth and sucks lightly, swirling it around his tongue. He tweaks the other between his calloused fingers. You moan audibly and throw your head back, the sensation nothing like anything you've felt before. This seems to spur him on, giving the other nipple just as much affection with his tongue.

"Oh God Eddie yes." You cant help but moan out his name, your hips grinding into nothing.

"Shit baby that feel good yeah?" He licks your pebbled nipple, running his tongue up and down over it.

"Yes Eddie oh- oh my God " you cant help but exclaim as his teeth brush your nipple, tugging on it slightly.

"Jesus you are sensitive sweetheart." He looks up at you and your reddened face, taking in your laboured breaths, clearly proud of the effect he is having on you.

One of his rough hands strokes gently down, down over your soft skin, reaching the top of your skirt. "Can you take this off for me sweetheart?"

You reach to your side immediately, fumbling with the buttons and fling the skirt off in one desperate movement. He chuckles to himself, amused that you could possibly be this eager for him. His fingers trail lower, lower. You cry out when he lightly touches your clothed heat, stroking the increasingly wet patch on your white cotton underwear. Your body feels like it's on fire, every limb burning with desire. You arch your back, the desire stabbing into your every nerve, every touch of his bringing you so close to a precipice that you didnt even know existed. Eddie is in awe, watching your every twitch, your every moan. He's commiting it all to memory, in case this never happens again. In case you suddenly wake up and realise he isn't good enough for you. This perfect, moaning, writhing mess.

He's barely touched you and you cannot help whimpering and whining at every stroke of your pussy. He hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties.

"I'm gonna take these off now, okay?" He says to you. You nod at him.

"Sweetheart I need your words please." He tilts his head at you, questioning. It almost hurts your heart, the care that he's taking with you.

"Yes, it's ok Eds, I want you to." You touch his hand to reassure him. He grins at you and slowly peels off your underwear.

He's speechless for a moment, taking your naked form in. Just for a moment.

"Baby you're gonna kill me. I can't take this. This all for me yeah? Such a pretty little thing" hes nearly babbling to himself, hands rubbing at your hips. "Can I- can I taste you?" He stammers out.

You look at him demurely, or at least try to, considering you are completely exposed.

"Yeah, sure." You smile weakly.

He smiles broadly at you and moves to kneel between your legs. He presses hot kisses over the insides of your thighs making your body shiver. You feel his hot breath fan onto your heat. He looks up at you with pure love in his eyes.

"If you don't like anything, or you want me to stop, just say the word sweetheart. I'll be gentle."

Before you have a chance to respond, Eddie's tongue runs the length of your pussy. You can't help but gasp at the feeling, your legs automatically widening to make room for him. He licks at your folds, his tongue running over you, and moves up slightly, swirling it around your clit. You let out a guttural moan, a noise you didnt even know you could make. Your stomach felt tight, as if something was about to spring free from it. Your breath came in hard, heavy pants as he continued to kiss, lick and gently suck at you. Every movement had you moaning, every lick had your back arching. One of your hands gripped the pillow you were leaning on tightly. When Eddie's fingers started to tease your entrance your other hand intertwined into the hair on the back of his head.

He pushed his middle finger into you whilst sucking on your clit and you nearly sobbed in pleasure, tears forming in your eyes.

"Oh God Eddie! Fuckfuckfuck"

Eddie smirks against you, adding another finger and curling inside you. You grip his hair, your hips rolling into him; you've lost control over your body. Eddie doesnt seem to mind, he's groaning against you. The only thing you can focus on is this incredible feeling building up, until finally it breaks, and your orgasm releases from you. You moan and shudder, tears running down your cheeks, hips bucking into his face. Eddie rides it out with you, fingers still curling into you until you finally stop convulsing.

You settle on the bed, spent, your legs still convulsing slightly. Eddie removes his fingers from you and wipes his mouth, grinning from ear to ear. You lay there, struggling to breathe. He flops next to you on the bed, reaching out to tuck some stray hairs behind your ear.

"You okay sweetheart?" He looks at you, brow creased.

You manage to turn onto your side and look at him, hand pawing at his chest, only able to manage a "hmmm" noise, almost a purr. He chuckles at that, stroking your cheek, wiping away the stray tears, hand lightly caressing your face, neck, side, anywhere he could reach.

You look him in eyes, pulling out of your revelry.

"Hi." You giggle.

"There she is!" He laughs and kisses your nose. "Everything you hoped it would be?" He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You giggle again, "well I have no basis of comparison, but it was pretty spectacular."

"Surely you've managed to cum on your own though, right?" He looks at you quizzically.

"I've never really tried. That was a lot of firsts all at once."

"Shit really? Gave you your first orgasm, now I'm damn proud of that!" And he pulls you in for a kiss. You kiss back, less desperate than before, but just as sensually, massaging his tongue with yours. He still tastes of you. Your dainty hands stroke down his chest to the waistband of his jeans and start to fiddle at his belt.

"Woah princess you dont need to do that."

"But I want to. Want you to feel good. Want to. Want to feel you inside me." Barely able to form sentences, you're tugging on his arm.

Eddie breaths deep. "Fuck sweetheart say that again and I just might."

"Eddie please fuck me, I want you inside now." You moaned at him.

"Shit- shit just stay right there." He kisses you on the temple and jumps up, undoing his belt and wrenching his jeans and boxers off in one smooth motion. He grabs a condom from his nightstand and rips the foil with his teeth, rolling the latex down his engorged length.

He hovers back over you, one arm supporting his weight to your side, the other holding his cock, ready to align into your entrance.

He kisses you on the forehead. "Sweetheart, this is probably going to hurt, and I'm really sorry. If you want to stop, at any time, just say the word." His eyes seek yours for consent.

You look at him and stroke his cheek, overwhelmed with feelings.

"I trust you Eddie." Is all you manage to say.

He runs his member along your folds, gathering your slick, and nudges your clit. You can help but buck your hips at the feeling. He finally lines up and pushes into you slowly. The feeling is odd; he feels so big, you don't know how he's still pushing more of himself into you. He keeps going until he is deep inside of you and theres nothing left to push. You whimper slightly. There is pain yes, but it balances on the brink of pain and pleasure, like a tightrope. Eddie stops and reaches to your face, holding your chin between thumb and forefinger like he has dozens of times before.

"You okay sweetheart?" His face is a picture of concern.

You look up at him whilst you adjust to the feeling, and realise you never want this to end. This is how you two were supposed to be; puzzle pieces slotted together, each incomplete without the other. A tear escapes your eye.

Eddie notices this and seizes up slightly. "Princess if it's too much we can stop I don't want to hurt..."

"Eddie... it's not that. I... I love you Eddie."

His face relaxes as he stares at you in disbelief. He honestly doesn't know how he could have possibly gotten this lucky. All he knows is that you are here now and he's never letting go.

"I love you too sweetheart." he smiles softly at you. You roll your hips forward and he audibly groans. Taking that as a sign to move, he begins to slowly thrust in and out of you, gently, keeping an eye on your face the whole time, making sure you are enjoying it as much as him.

The ache had gone away, leaving you with the feeling of being pleasurably full. You meet his thrusts, skin stroking against skin, your fingertips trailing over his back and into his hair. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in even deeper. At this angle hes continually hitting that spot inside of you and you moan softly with each thrust. Eddie's free hand finds yours, fingers slotting together by your head. He leans down and plants kisses on your forehead, cheeks, nose, lips, neck. It's as if he's so overwhelmed with love he needs to let it out.

You can feel that tension in your tummy again and you clench around his length.

"Eddie, oh baby I'm, oh God..."

"I know sweetheart let it out, I wanna feel you."

Your orgasm comes crashing down on you then, waves breaking throughout your body, stars colliding. Eddie rides it out with you, moaning into your neck, and with a few more pushes into you he groans deep and cums, bringing you into a tight embrace.

You both lay there for a while, holding each other tightly, shaking slightly, coming down from your highs. You press kisses to Eddie's cheek and jaw, and whisper in his ear "I think I loved you ever since you saved me."

Eddie smiles and looks into your eyes. "No, princess, you are the one who saved me."

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sirensarecallingmehome · 2 years

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Cheeky Lil Devil (drabble)

I don’t really have much of an explanation on this. It was me, @mantorokk-writes , @mcplestreet, @charlie-heatons-whxre & @corrodedhawkins being cheeky (wheyy) in a gc about Eddie lmao

cw: nudity, smut implied and mentioned but not described explicitly, sorta fluff, kinda cute? idk

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sirensarecallingmehome · 2 years

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sirensarecallingmehome · 2 years

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Okay but imagine this though you come by eddies trailer and you're completely early right. We all know eddie gets bored a lot and does random shit to fill his time. We also know he makes little figures for dnd. Well what if eddie made like this tiny little town and dressed his dick up like godzilla and swung it around knocking over the figures he made. He's making screeching noises and definitely doesn't hear or see you standing in his door way with a face like this 😦. Once he notices you he would say something like "so glad you made to see cockzilla in action". I believe that's when you knew you loved him.

COCKZILLA.

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sirensarecallingmehome · 2 years

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I think I want to open my ask box for requests.

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sirensarecallingmehome · 2 years

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Obey Your Master

EddieXFemReader

Warnings: +18 only, MINORS DNI! Graphic smut, choking, language, spanking, degradation, oral (M & F receiving), anal play, PIV

AN: I said I was going to write fluff next, but this just came from way outta left field. I’m so sorry, I have no control 😂 It’s been years since I’ve written smut and even then it was only once so... yeah let that be a warning too.

Eddie’s nimble fingers carefully secure the stiff leather straps of the gag behind your head, “There, is that comfortable?” He leans back to look at you with a sweet smile, his hand reaching up to push some loose hair from your face as he studies you. You’re kneeling on the plush carpet of his bedroom floor, the material scratchy against your bare legs. You aren’t wearing any clothes save for the cool metal chain choker around your neck attached to a short metal leash. A black furry tail plug hangs between your supple ass cheeks and lightly tickles your skin. The red O ring gag sits prettily against your lips forcing your mouth open. He watches your wide eyes crinkle softly as you try to smile back, nodding and wiggling in your spot, jostling the plug in your ass and nearly moaning at the pleasurable feeling.

“Do you remember what we talked about? One tap for pause and two for stop?” You nod again near frantic this time, eager to get started. Eddie’s smiling face draws to a satisfied smirk. “Good girl,” he coos and pats your head. He chuckles lowly when your eyelashes flutter at the praise and plants a chaste kiss to your forehead. He stands up straight and picks up the leash, wrapping it once around his hand, and walks backwards to settle into the desk chair.

“Come here,” he commands, pulling the leash with just enough force to have the collar tightening, but not quite choking. You crawl forward on hands and knees, hips swaying teasingly as you watch him through your lashes. With one hand he works to push his boxers down and free his semi-hard cock, his heart swelling with pride when you practically drool at the sight, although, that could just be the gag. Eddie didn’t care to dwell on that thought.

“Suck it.” Eddie’s tone is stern, any traces of his earlier softness with you now gone. A shiver runs down your spine, your hand gripping his thick cock before he needs to tell you twice. Leaning forward you lick a stripe from base to tip and then sink down on him in one fluid motion. Eddie groans when he feels his cock hit the back of your throat. Slowly you pull back up, pause, and then sink back down again. Eddie’s eyes narrow and he reaches down to smack your ass in warning at your teasing. The sting has you humming around him, the vibrations causing him to grow firmer in your mouth. You glide back up his length again until you reach his tip and look him in the eyes. Eddie raises an eyebrow at the mischievous glint, and you catch the subtle flex of his muscles as he tenses.

“Don’t play, kitten,” he warns. Your tongue swirls around his tip and you hum teasingly again, trying to get a rise out of him. Eddie moans at the sensation, but he’s getting annoyed quickly and gives you another firm smack. You shift on your knees trying to ease the numbness settling in and plant both hands against his clothed thighs, rubbing them soothingly. You take him in again, letting him hit the back of your throat before drawing up, your tongue pressing flat and massaging his entire length. Soon you are setting a fast pace that has Eddie throwing his head back, eyes squeezed shut and mouth dropped open in pleasure.

“Ah, fuck, just like that baby,” he groans. “You like having my fat cock in your mouth, kitten?” You moan in response and give his thighs a firm squeeze. The sexy sounds he’s making has you soaked already. When he hits the back of your throat again, his hips thrust up harshly making you gag. Eddie’s hand drops to the back of your head holding you in place for a moment longer. You push against him gently when it gets too much, and he takes a fistful of your hair yanking you completely off of him.

Eddie laughs cruelly at your disgruntled whine and leans in close to your face, “Don’t worry, kitten, you’ll get it back.” His head dips down to your exposed neck where he attacks a tender spot with his tongue making you sigh. Eddie suckles a mark into the spot before letting his teeth sink down in a love bite. He laughs again when you whimper at the slight pain and pulls away from you.

“Oh, such a dirty slut, aren’t you?” Eddie grins at you, a very sinister curvature of his lips. You whimper again, your eyes pleading for more. Eddie releases your hair letting his warm fingers brush against your neck and stands up. You watch with curious eyes from the floor when he kicks his boxers off and walks over to stand next to the bed.

“Come here my pet,” The command comes soft and loving, but the tightening of the collar around your throat promises something else. Still on your hands and knees you crawl toward him and settle at his feet, eagerly waiting for another order. Eddie’s composure almost breaks as he stares you down. You look so beautiful kneeling in front of him, all soft curves and feigned innocence. It makes him weak when you look at him like that. Eddie might be the one making the demands, but if he was being truthful, it was you that was in control. Eddie’s fingers ghost along your jaw, his thumb coming to rest against the lips of the silicone gag. Your tongue pokes out to swipe it and he pushes it into your wet mouth. His cock twitches in front of you as your tongue massages the pad of his thumb. The gag hinders you from being able to do what you actually want with it and you whine pitifully.

Eddie huffs another laugh at the sound, “What’s wrong, sweet girl? Are you missing my cock?” You risk a chance to lean forward and lick away the bead of precum from his slit. Eddie breathes in sharply and quickly grabs another fistful of your hair, roughly pulling your head back to look at him.

“I didn’t say you could do that,” he glares, “Get on the bed, slut.”

You scramble up onto the bed where Eddie manhandles you into position. He has you lay on your back, sideways across the bed so that your head hangs over the edge and draws your knees up so that your legs are spread apart. “Don’t move,” he hisses. Eddie slides his aching cock into your warm mouth and starts thrusting in and out at a steady pace. His calloused hands grope your tender breasts, kneading the soft flesh. Without warning Eddie draws back a hand and slaps the side of one, just enough to leave a slight sting. You jolt at the feeling and clutch at the bedsheets tightly. Eddie moves so that his body is hovering over you, supporting himself on one arm. He grabs a pillow and maneuvers it under your hips for a better angle. With his free hand he spreads you open and groans when he sees how wet you are.

“Such a little slut, getting this wet just over some cock? I bet I could make you cum without even touching you. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” Eddie thrusts a little harder into your mouth, moaning when he feels your throat constrict. He wastes no more time to dip his tongue into your slit and travels up the length to your clit spreading your wetness around. He flicks his tongue quickly over your clit, alternating between sucking and licking. Eddie can feel himself getting closer and slows his hips to a more teasing pace, not ready to finish just yet. He shifts the arm he’s leaning on over a bit so that he can reach the butt plug and tugs it out partially, rolling it back and forth and plunging it back in repeatedly. Three thick fingers plunge into your weeping slit, thrusting and curling at a brutal pace. It doesn’t take long before you are a quivering mess beneath him, your back arching and nearly screaming around his throbbing length. Your arms come up to wrap tightly around his slender waist to ground you through your orgasm. One hand grips his firm cheek, your nails leaving shallow marks, and pulling him down until his cock slips further down your throat, completely cutting off your air and making you choke.

Eddie sucks harshly at your sensitive clit one last time before nipping at your inner thigh and then soothing the mark with his warm, wet tongue. Reluctantly he raises up and pulls out of your mouth, drool and precum leaking out and dripping up your face and into your hair. He wipes away the bit that’s too close to your eye, then his hand is slipping under your head and guiding you to sit up. He’s careful with you now, fingers massaging into your stiff neck to relieve the tension. Eddie then removes the gag and tosses it to the floor.

One hand cups your chin to turn your face to him while the other runs tantalizingly up and down your spine making you shiver. He captures your lips in a slow, searing kiss that has your head spinning. His tongue swipes over your slightly swollen lips and you part them to let him in. Eddie’s tongue slips past your lips to meet yours, both of you groaning at the taste of your mixed arousals.

“Get on your knees, kitten. Face down.”

You get into position, wiggling your ass at him so that the tail swishes against the back of your thighs. Eddie climbs up behind you, both hands finding purchase on your hips. One large hand comes down on your ass and kneads the bruised flesh roughly. You whimper and push back against his hand, the sting of the blow stirring an ache between your thighs.

You hiss at the painful sting of the plug not so gently leaving your hole and hear it hit the floor across the room. His movements falter at the sound and when you crane your neck to look at him over your shoulder, you find him already looking at you, a silent question in his eyes. He hadn’t meant for that to hurt. “I’m okay,” you assure, placing your hand over his still resting on your hip and giving it an encouraging squeeze.

Eddie smiles tightly and tries to regain his composure, “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

“Please, Master, I need your big cock inside, please,” you plead pathetically, pushing your hips back to grind against his erection. You felt a little awkward saying it, but you knew you needed to get him back into the right headspace fast. It seems to work well enough as Eddie gives you a wolfish grin and swipes his tongue over his bottom lip.

“Alright, kitten, let Master give you what you want,”

You feel the smooth head of his cock glide through your folds, bumping your swollen clit twice before he is slipping into your entrance. He bottoms out in one slow thrust and stills his hips. A breathy moan leaves your lips as he stretches you open, and you spread your legs apart a little further to try and take him deeper.

“Always so fucking tight,” he groans. It takes you by surprise with how fast Eddie begins fucking you causing the headboard to slam against the wall with every powerful thrust.

“Aaahh, f-fuck, Eddie! R-right there! Oh my god right there!” Your whole body feels like it is on fire, every thrust against your g-spot bringing wave after wave of burning pleasure, but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Eddie brings his palm down on your ass twice in quick succession, the sensation like lightning on your heated skin making you clench tighter around his cock and cry out his name. He leans down to nibble at your ear, his hips barely pulling out before pounding back inside.

“That’s right baby, you take this fat cock like a good little slut,”

“More. Please Master I need you to fill me up more, please, plea- AH,” Eddie pulls out and slams back in against your g-spot in a bruising thrust making you scream and clench the bedsheets tighter.

“Such a greedy pet,” he growls in your ear and bites down on your shoulder. He straightens up again and you feel a calloused finger ghosting over your puckered hole. “Is this what you want, slut? You want me to fuck both of these holes?”

“Yes Master please, I need it, please.” Your eyes roll back, moaning at the stretch of two thick fingers sliding into your hole. He finger fucks you slowly, a stark contrast to the rough pounding he’s giving your weeping pussy and edges you closer to your orgasm.

“Touch yourself baby.”

Shaky fingers find your clit and rub quick little circles into the swollen bud. Eddie’s name is like a prayer on your lips as you feel yourself careening towards the edge, your back arches and you struggle to keep up with his fast pace as you meet his hips thrust for thrust. Sensing your impending end, Eddie picks up the leash and tugs slowly until the collar is completely cutting off your air. The cold chain smacks against your ass and tips you over the cliff and into the abyss. Your vision goes white, all of the sounds echoing around you like you’re in a tunnel and all that you can feel is Eddie and the pleasure he brings you as he rides you through your orgasm, body shaking and spasming around him.

When you finally come down from your high, you weakly smack your hand against the mattress twice. Eddie drops the leash and pulls out, his hands running up and down your back soothingly as you regain your breath.

“There’s my good girl, are you okay?”

You nod, body still trembling, but you push yourself up and turn to sit facing him. Your eyes lock onto his swollen, leaking tip and you feel your mouth water as it twitches needily in front of you. You start to reach for him, but stop short, looking up at him for permission. Eddie smirks and reaches to grip you by the hair and tug you toward him. “Go ahead, suck me off.”

You take him in and hollow your cheeks. There is no teasing this time as you allow Eddie to guide you along his length. You gag every time he hits the back of your throat, spit and precum leaking further down your chin and dripping onto your glistening chest. Before long Eddie pulls you off and tilts your head back by your hair. “Stick your tongue out,” he commands gruffly. You do as told and he taps his tip against your waiting tongue as he pumps himself quickly. Your name is a broken whine on his lips as hot ropes of cum spurts from his tip, coating your mouth and cheeks. When he’s finished, he rubs his tip against your cheek, collecting the mess and shoving his cock back into your mouth. “Take it all.” You swallow him down greedily and lick around his tip, making sure you don’t miss a drop.

He hisses as the sensations start to sting and he pulls you back by the hair again. His free hand goes to the side of your neck, his thumb stroking softly at your flushed cheek. Eddie’s tongue swipes at your bottom lip, tasting himself there before his lips press to yours in a slow kiss. He guides to you lay back down and hovers over you, your arms coming up to warp around his shoulders to keep him close. Your lips part and he dives right in to deepen the kiss. Eddie moves from your lips to trail butterfly kisses along your jaw and down to the red marks around your neck. He nuzzles his nose behind your ear and breathes deeply, planting a soft kiss there. You sigh contently, body relaxing under his tender affection. You shift beneath him and Eddie allows it, moving to lay on his back so you could curl up into his side, your head tucked safely under his chin as you hold each other close.

Once you’re comfortable, Eddie reaches for the cigarette and lighter on the nightstand and lights it up. He strokes his hand through your hair and you start to drift off, slowly being rocked to sleep as he inhales the smoke.

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