#eddie munson x mexican! reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blueywrites · 1 year

Text

Where you and Steve swing with Eddie and Chrissy, and it gets complicated.

TO KNOW YOU'RE MINE (modern!swingers!au) (18+ only)

eddie munson x you

fem!reader, chubby!reader, minimal use of y/n, body insecurity, extreme fluff, smut, oral (f receiving), anal play (f receiving), fingering (v & a), p in v, praise kink, breeding kink

chapter twelve (epilogue): late bloomer (14.5k) | playlist | AO3

🎵 in this au, deftones=corroded coffin. the playlist is a combination of R's sad girl music vibes and some foreshadowing. the songs for this chapter are #37-40. #37, the title song, is not featured in the text, so you can play it whenever feels appropriate. Here is a female version of 'Passenger.'

He’s a late bloomer

He lives in the in-between

But he’s getting it right

First she started a seed

She proceeded to cut the weeds

And she’s facing the sky

'Cause late bloomers still rise

Late Bloomer — Mereba

The salt you scrape from your sneakers leaves tiny pink crystals on the welcome mat, and even before your numb knuckles rap against worn wood, the plastic bag dangling from your fist announces your arrival to the man inside.

"Coming!"

The call comes from beyond the door, and muffled footsteps follow. You step back off the mat in preparation for the door to swing open. When it does, revealing a mop of unruly golden-brown hair above clear blue eyes, you greet one another pleasantly, your enthusiasm calmed by weeks of following the same song and dance.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” you reply, sticking out your arm, your plastic bag held aloft in offering. His brows quirk in a silent question which you answer readily. “Mexican again this week.”

The blandness of his voice sparks with genuine enthusiasm then. “Sweet!” Gareth takes the bag, peering into its contents as he abandons the threshold to wander back toward the living room. You let yourself in, closing the door behind you and toeing off your sneakers next to the scuffed black Docs and Vans belonging to the apartment’s occupants.

It’s quiet inside except for the low murmuring of the television and the crinkling of plastic as Gareth drops your food delivery onto the coffee table. As you head directly to his bedroom, he doesn’t spare you a glance, already pulling apart the contents of the bag as he plops onto the couch. You’re peeling your scrub shirt over your head without bothering to close the door when you hear him call hopefully from the living room, “Are the nachos for me?”

“Yep,” you call back, smiling to yourself when you hear him rip the plastic lid from the package without any further adieu. You shuck your pants, riffling in the top drawer of Gareth’s dresser for a change of clothes. Inside is a tangle of blacks and soft blues, deep grays and creams, threadbare t-shirts and soft sweaters— a drawer relinquished to a friend in need, filled first with Eddie and slowly acquiring bits of you as your weekly visits continued for one month and then two. You dress for the December chill in soft leggings and a slouchy sweater, folding your wrinkled scrubs as you shuffle out of the bedroom in your socks. You quickly drop them in a neat pile by the door before skirting by Gareth’s knees and curling up on the opposite side of the couch. You settle into that familiar nook, passing the time unwrapping your dinner and watching whatever show Gareth has chosen. The tacos are crunchy, all salty shredded pork, crisp lettuce, and mild cheese, though you chew and swallow mechanically; the show is engaging, a mystery-thriller with an attractive leading man, but its colors are dull and your eyes drift from the action.

Because where you’re nestled now is in the shade. Your blooms are lazy and half-closed, your leaves soft and lax, drooping downward towards fertile earth. You’re eating and watching, but really, you’re waiting— waiting for a brightness that doesn’t come until you hear distant heavy bootsteps that grow steadily louder before halting just outside the apartment. There’s the briefest pause and then the jiggle of the doorknob.

And when Gareth’s front door opens, only then do you bloom again.

Eddie shoulders his way inside in his dirty coveralls and his workboots and with his wild hair balled into a low, greasy bun; even when filthy as all hell, he still manages to suck all the light from the room. When he tugs his boot laces loose, you unfold your legs and straighten your spine in anticipation of his approach. As Eddie pads over, he and Gareth exchange casual greetings, and you wait patiently for him to turn amber brown toward you. That’s where all the room’s light is because when he meets your eyes, it bathes over you like the warmth of the summer sun emerging from behind a cloud.

“Hi, baby,” Eddie says.

“Hi, Ed,” you reply, and your face tips up automatically, knowing how he’ll greet you: a warm, broad hand resting on your shoulder for leverage as he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead.

The tang of motor oil and sweat envelops you, and Eddie’s lips are chapped from the winter but warm as he presses them to your skin. He hums contentedly when you lean into him, and your love wells up from the bottom of you, rising up your green like sweet water as your vines plump, your leaves rise, and your flowers glow white in the sun. You’re craving so much more the second he pulls away, and you know from the curve of his lips and the look in his eyes that Eddie feels the same, but you both refrain for Gareth’s sake, sating yourselves with loaded glances and fond words for now. “How was your day?” Eddie asks you, squeezing your shoulder three times deliberately before he’s straightening up and rocking back on his heels. You smile at the secret meaning behind his touch, snatching his wrist before he can turn away and squeezing three times back.

“Oh, you know,” Gareth drawls, flapping his hand, “same ol’ same ol’. Thanks for asking, baby.”

Eddie shoots Gareth a flat look, but you giggle as your boyfriend shoves one dirty hand into the food bag on the coffee table, rooting for his dinner. “Wasn’t talkin’ to you, dipshit,” he says, though his lips twitch with a repressed smile. He pulls the remaining item from the bag with an air of triumph: an overstuffed burrito wrapped in shiny foil, looking fit to burst. Exactly how he likes it, you think, pleased when you see his eyes gleam eagerly as he starts to peel it open.

“It was fine.” You squint, derailed from your typical follow-up question about his day as Eddie steps around the coffee table, still unwrapping his dinner. “Are you not gonna eat with us?”

“Gotta shower today. I’m disgusting,” he says, tacking on quickly, “more disgusting than usual” before Gareth can open his mouth.

Your squint turns to a confused frown. “You can’t eat a burrito in the shower, Ed.”

By this time he’s peeled back enough foil to expose the bulging tortilla, and Eddie descends on it like a man starved, cheeks bulging as he replies through the mouthful. “Can eat it on the way to the shower,” he muffles through beans and rice, grinning cheekily as best he can when your eyebrows pinch in fond exasperation.

“Dude, do not drip sauce on the floor,” Gareth shouts after him, and you look over the back of the couch to see Eddie waving his hand dismissively without looking back before he disappears into the bathroom. From the other side of the couch, you feel Gareth’s eyes on you like a heavy presence, and you settle back against the cushions, crossing your legs again before glancing at him. He’s looking at you dully, almost accusingly, and you grimace sympathetically. “Soon,” you whisper. “I promise.”

It’s another familiar song and dance. Any time you’re over and Eddie does something, well, Eddie-ish, you promise Gareth that you and Eddie would be getting your own place soon, and Gareth grumbles that you’d said that last week. You know he doesn’t really mind that Eddie’s become his impromptu roommate these last two months since getting kicked out of the apartment he’d shared with Chrissy. Gareth has done his faithful best to accommodate Eddie though his apartment is a one-bedroom and barely bigger than a studio, so Eddie’s nights are spent on the couch, and his belongings are fitted into spare drawers and whatever unoccupied crannies could be found. They’ve known each other for years, and Gareth is happy to help his friend and bandmate, but as the weeks drag on, some friction has formed between the two men as they share such a small space.

To cut Gareth a break, you and Eddie try to spend most of your nights together at your place, only opting for Gareth’s when Penny has Charlie over to give them some space. She’s been very understanding about Eddie being over so often, and you’re already well aware that your sister hadn’t signed up for a package deal when you’d asked if you could move in.

You’re hoping that by this time next month, barring any unexpected expenses, you and Eddie will be ready to move in together. It isn’t a matter of commitment; you know he'd want nothing more than to get a place with you now, and you feel the same way, but the two of you haven’t saved up enough to make that decision practical yet. There’s the matter of a deposit and two months' rent, plus utilities, insurance, new furniture… it all adds up, and though Penny had adamantly refused to let you pay partial rent with her, you know Eddie had insisted on splitting half-and-half with Gareth. It doesn't matter that he just sleeps on the couch. Eddie Munson is never going to take any handouts.

Penny and Eddie are stubborn and more alike than they realize, you’d thought on more than one occasion.

The couch dips, and when the warmth of Eddie’s body settles against you, you welcome it wholeheartedly, shifting into him instinctively. His arm is a heavy but comforting weight slung over your shoulders, and he smells of smoke and apples when you snuggle against him, lifting your knees to fold towards him. His curls are cold and damp as they brush against your neck, and you shiver but don’t pull away. You’re rewarded with the heat of his stubbled jaw when he leans it against your temple. Your hand settles automatically at the soft of his waist, thumb trailing along the little pudge of fat below his navel, stroking over his threadbare t-shirt, and Eddie’s fingers ghost against your upper arm, scratching slowly in time with your movements.

In this way, you and Eddie can steal subtle touches and relish in each others’ presence as he and Gareth bicker over what to watch. They settle on a comedy movie, and while you don’t really mind either way what they choose, secretly, you do prefer these comedy nights. Though sci-fi and fantasy hold your interest the most, and horror provides opportunities for Eddie to comfort you, which you enjoy, comedies are by far the most fun to watch with him because he’s at his wildest and, frankly, his most joyful. You grin when Eddie’s stomach leaps under your hand as he throws his head back and laughs without restraint, squeezing you tighter against his side. You giggle when Eddie jostles you as he leans forward and gestures widely with his free hand, spouting off complaints and eager observations alike, flopping back against the cushions and dragging you with him. You glow when Eddie murmurs commentary into your hair, remarks for only you to hear— observations about how so-and-so reminds him of something you've said, or questions he wouldn’t want to ask Gareth for fear of looking stupid, or little whispers of affection, sappy nonsense to make you blush so he can nuzzle his nose against your cheek and call you cute.

And that’s how you spend the evening: belly full, tucked into your boyfriend’s side, watching a movie with him and his best friend until the hour grows late. It’s the same as it goes every week, a song and dance you’ve come to know so well you could hear its phantom notes in your sleep, a melody you’ll never tire of singing.

By the time the movie finishes, Gareth is rubbing his eyes, flinging a sleepy wave over his shoulder as he shuffles off to the bedroom. You and Eddie mumble your goodnights to him, lazing against one another for a moment before moving. You breathe deep and stretch as Eddie’s weight leaves you and he maneuvers onto his knees, craning over the cushioned back. His shirt rides up, and your eyes are drawn to the wide sliver of pale skin as he drags his blanket up from behind the couch, piling it in your lap for you to straighten out as he leans even further to reach his pillow. That gets plopped at the opposite end as you stand and tug the blanket over your shoulders, waiting for Eddie to flop down, lanky legs splayed and arms open and ready for you to join him. Eddie’s hair is dry now but still fragrant, smelling of apples as he enfolds you in his arms and it tickles your cheeks. You shimmy together, tangling your limbs and finally sating the desire for closeness you’d been assuaging all night with small touches that would never be enough.

Eddie buries his face in your neck, huffing against your skin as he burrows into you insistently, and you know he wants affection. You love it when Eddie gets needy like this— dragging you greedily against his body, almost manhandling you, flopping his leg over yours and wiggling until he’s comfortable. You tuck your fingers into his curls and scratch his scalp in big circles, smiling softly when he melts into you, boneless and lax as you lavish him with attention. Humming contentedly, you reach up under his t-shirt to feel his hot skin, dragging your nails over his back. He stretches against you like a cat, arching into your touch and pressing his lips to your throat in a mute thank you.

He tries to reciprocate, calloused fingers stuttering over your side as he attempts to stroke your skin in return, but Eddie is nearer to sleep than you are. When you feel his legs twitch, that tell-tale sign that he’s about to drift off, you pull your hand from beneath his t-shirt, smoothing it down as you rest your hand against his lower back. You don’t anticipate the low whine he muffles into your throat, and you chuckle when he shimmies to communicate his dissatisfaction. It almost seems antithetical that this man, typically clothed in ink and leather and chains, typically sharp and wolfish with eager flashing grins and a teasing black-smoke rasp, now whines unabashedly for your touch and pouts up at you with hazy brown eyes and pooched pink lips, soft white underbelly exposed for you to do with it what you will.

You love Eddie’s black, but his white is only for you, so you can’t help but covet it even more.

Your hand tucks obligingly back under his shirt, tracing random patterns, and as Eddie sighs against your neck, a question floats up, one that’s been hovering on the edges of your mind for some time now. It's a question that causes pins and needles of nervousness to prickle low in your chest, but in the dark hush of the living room, it feels possible to voice it.

“So, I’ve been thinking—”

“Always dangerous,” Eddie mumbles, and when you huff and your fingers stall on his back, his head pops up, eyes holding yours contritely as he rests against the pillow instead so he can look at you. He’d be a vision of innocent devotion with those beautiful curls and big brown eyes if it weren’t for the amused dimple threatening at the corner of his lips.

"So,” you repeat, “I've been thinking.” That prickle of nervousness surges again. “We’ve been dating— officially, I guess— for a couple of months now, and… well, there's been something I wanna do. Someone I wanna—"

“Uh-uh.” He cuts you off with a sharp shake of his head, and your heart falls. Before you can say anything, you’re being flipped onto your back as Eddie covers you with his body, hips pinning your pelvis to the couch, brown eyes glittering with intensity. Your eyes dart between his, wide with alarm as he says, "Oh, fuck no. Never again.” Your lips part in confusion, but Eddie barrels on, brows jerking up in emphasis. “You're all mine now. You’re my sweet girl. I'm not sharing you."

His meaning hits you all at once, leaving you winded and incredulous as his name strangles in your throat. You think he must be joking, must be pretending to be serious— but when his fierceness doesn’t subside, your incredulity transforms into something resembling offense.

You scoff disbelievingly. "Eddie!” You hush his name in an outraged exclamation, a little miffed that he’d actually think you’d be suggesting you swing with someone else, but nonetheless a little fluttery at his immediate possessiveness. Still, as you push at his shoulders, you frown petulantly. “That's not what I was gonna say at all! What the hell?"

Eddie doesn’t relent as you resist him, though the fierceness in his expression finally melts away at your unmistakable shock; instead, in a whiplash mood reversal, he wrestles you playfully, tickling you with his face and hair until you’re no longer at the edge of anger and are filled with giggles instead. "What then, hm?" he snaps teasingly from underneath his hair, shaking his head like a dog until you press your hands to his ears, holding his head steady between your soft palms.

You clear the hair gently from his face, feeling a little shy again as his eyes are revealed from the curtain of his curls, staring at you curiously. "Well, I was trying to say that we’ve been dating for a little while, and you’ve already met Penny, and I was thinking….” You push through your nervousness at the potential for rejection, voice quiet in your throat. “I wanna meet your uncle. If you want me to."

Eddie visibly softens, amber eyes going gooey like honey. His smoke voice is deep and rich and sure. "I'd really like that."

Your wings flutter at the gentleness in his gaze, warmth spreading to soothe the prickle of nerves. “Yeah?”

Eddie tucks your hair behind your ear and drags his thumb down the shell to your lobe, which he pinches three times slowly and deliberately. “Yeah, my sweet girl. I want you to meet my family.”

You take his hand, brushing his knuckles with your lips and squeezing three times back. It’s a quiet way to communicate when words aren’t needed or can’t be used. Three presses, slow and deliberate, a gesture that always means the same thing.

I love you.

It's snowing in Hawkins, Indiana, and while Forest Hills Trailer Park typically isn’t much to look at, it’s a wonderland in white.

The tires carve deep grooves in that white as you pull down the lane, and all— every flat roof and rusted car, every trashcan and skeletal flowerpot— is covered in a thick blanket of delicate powder. When Eddie turns the key to cut the engine, the silent stillness feels different from usual. Magical, almost, suspended in time and space as fat, dry flakes drift soundlessly down from a dove gray sky. As you dismount the vehicle with your host’s bag of gifts in hand, even the slam of your car door doesn’t echo quite as far. It’s muffled by the surrounding blanketed forest, where every piney branch is covered in a hush of snow, shifting occasionally like wings unfurling when powder falls into the sea of white below.

Eddie clomps up the worn porch steps first, leaving imprints for you to follow in. You match his stride with your smaller feet all the way up to the front door, eyes caught on the lumpy couch shaded by the awning, its front face dusted with white that clings like powdered sugar to the rough fabric. Eddie's rings rap against the plastic frame, and it’s then that your heart starts to pound. Nervous anticipation flutters in your stomach, borne of desperate yearning— a yearning to make a good impression on the most important man in your boyfriend’s life, to be deemed good enough for the most important man in yours.

Wayne Munson’s aging face is grizzled and creased, but the dimple in his cheek and the softness of his nose are so familiar they kick you in the chest. The sound he makes when he locks eyes with his nephew is husky and full, the bark of his laugh matching the smoke of Eddie’s when he clasps his nephew in a rough and eager embrace. His hands are tan but broad like Eddie’s, also worn from years of toil as they clutch at the back of your boyfriend's leather jacket. The men rock for a moment in the shared contentment of their reunion, and you wait behind Eddie, nearly fidgeting with the anticipation of meeting his uncle for the first time. But when they finally part and Eddie steps aside to reveal your shy smile and soft hands carrying your bag of offerings, the way Wayne Munson looks at you makes one thing abundantly clear:

You needn’t have worried.

“This is her,” Eddie says, and the audible pride in his voice floods your cheeks with pleased but bashful warmth. You’re ready to meet him where he is, but Wayne steps down from the threshold of his doorway onto the porch, his crooked smile widening as his blue eyes meet yours.

“It’s a pleasure t’meet you, sweetheart.” He pulls you into a much more careful hug than was bestowed on his nephew, and his worn denim shirt is soft beneath your chin and smells of laundry powder and cigarettes. The paper bag knocks against his back, and when he pulls away, he eyes it curiously. “That f’r me?”

You nod, shyness still gripping your tongue, but Eddie’s palm on the small of your back is grounding. “Just hold your horses, old man,” he gripes. “Let us inside before you stick your nose in.”

Wayne grumbles but obliges, stepping up first and leading the way into his home.

The indoor heat glows pleasantly against your cheeks as Eddie pulls the front door shut behind you, closing you in the cozy clutter of his childhood home. The place is cramped but well-kept, messy in the way you’d expect from a single man, but not dirty. There’s much to look at; the decor is quite eclectic, walls and surfaces covered with items both practical and sentimental. The most interesting is the ship wheel ceiling fixture in the kitchen, loaded with mismatched bulbs of different colors that cast the space in varied shades of light. The effect only adds to the charm, and you can nearly see a younger Eddie bounding down the narrow hallway from the back of the house, smoke voice high with adolescence as he calls out a goodbye to his uncle, curls bouncing against his forehead as he rushes past you out the door.

“So—” Wayne’s gruff voice startles you from your imaginings, and you catch his twinkling blue eyes as he jerks his chin toward the bag in your hands. “You gonna gimme that or what?”

The tease in his voice has you giggling despite Eddie’s huff. “Ungrateful,” he mutters under his breath, but you pull out the first item obligingly— a square box wrapped with paper to conceal what’s inside. You pass it over to Wayne, who shakes it, you suspect, just to make his nephew scowl. “You know what it is,” Eddie says, trying to be stern, though when they share a look, a smile can’t help but crack through. “Just open it.”

Your confusion over Eddie’s insistence on this particular type of gift has eased now that you’ve seen the primary decor adorning the trailer’s walls, but you watch Wayne carefully nonetheless, curious as to how he’ll react as he peels the paper back to reveal the picture on the front of the box.

Wayne’s brows contort in a mixture of confusion and amusement as he stares down at it for a moment before a guffaw rips from his throat. “What is this, kid?!” he turns his accusatory gaze toward Eddie. “You sayin’ I’m old and sickly?”

“You are old,” Eddie quips back, plush lips slanted in a smirk. “But, no.” His amber-brown eyes flash to yours. “It’s ‘cause of y/n.”

Wayne’s crinkled face swings to you then, and you smack Eddie lightly in the stomach in silent chastisement of his vagueness. “It’s ‘cause I work in healthcare.” You speak for the first time, voice small, gaze dropping to the picture in Wayne’s hands. It shows a mug in the shape of an orange pill bottle, complete with a white ridged rim to depict the child-safety lid and quite accurate in its mimicry of a prescription label, though the patient’s name is a clearly fictional ‘Mr. Java Joe Espresso.’ “It was Eddie’s choice,” you defend, pursing your lips against a smile when your boyfriend knocks you playfully with his elbow.

Wayne lifts the box closer to his nose to peer at the writing, finally huffing amusedly through his nose. “All right,” he concedes, and as he places it on the island counter behind him, you pull out his second and final gift. At the sight of the crumbly peach cobbler, Wayne looks considerably more enthused. “Now that’s more like it.”

Eddie helps you gather three plates, loading them with slices of cobbler as Wayne sinks into what must be his preferred armchair with a bone-weary sigh. You pass one to him, thumb on the spine of the fork to keep it from slipping as he takes it. “Thank you, darlin,’” he says, and you settle next to Eddie on the couch, sinking into his side.

It begins, you suppose, the way all introductions to family typically begin. “So, how’d you two meet?”

You nestle into Eddie’s side, fork playing with golden crumble and soft fruit as Eddie’s smoke curls gently against your cheek. “Through a mutual friend,” he says, and his voice is so calm and even that you feel the tightness in your belly ease. Eddie’s palm finds your knee, a comforting weight that warms your skin through your jeans.

“The first time I saw him, he was on stage,” you pipe up, one finger running against the textured bottom edge of the ceramic plate, the lip upon which it rests. “He was…”

You pause as you remember it: that black and white, the gash of red, the aggressive ink of his torso against pale quartz, the press of his lips to the mic, the enchanting smoke of his voice. You hadn’t known how to describe your impression of him that day in the dressing room when you’d met Eddie for the first time, but you know now. “I thought he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard,” you say, sweet as the peach cobbler you’d brought his uncle, and Eddie’s fingers tighten against your leg, squeezing slow, pressing once, twice, and then again.

The curve of Wayne’s mouth gentles beneath his grizzled salt-and-pepper beard. “Ain’t he something, though. My boy.”

You nod your keen agreement. Though you’re angled toward Wayne and Eddie is behind you, you can feel the warmth of his blush without looking. “Y/n works in pediatric medicine,” he says quickly. “She helps sick kids all day. And she can sing, too. Got the voice of an angel.”

Now it’s your turn to flush, and what ensues is a fierce competition of deflection as both you and Eddie brag on each other to his uncle, trying to divert the attention from yourselves. It’s a valiant effort that leaves Wayne positively tickled as he looks back and forth between you until he finally holds up his hands for mercy. “Look, I get it,” he interrupts, “you each think the sun shines out the other’s ass. Consider me convinced.”

Eddie snorts, wrapping his arm around your bashful shoulders as they try to scrunch up to your ears. Unable to concede without winning, he plants a loud smacking kiss to your cheek, grinning manically as he leaves you positively burning. “Eddie!” you hiss as Wayne chuckles, squirming your discomfort but oh, so sweetly blooming nonetheless.

You’re surprised to find that the afternoon spent in Wayne’s company slips by as quickly as snow melts from sun-drenched branches. The man is gruff but so easy in his way that you’re comfortable before you know it, sinking deep into Eddie’s side to swing your foot idly and suck sweet pie filling from your fork. You’re perfectly content to listen to them banter through updates about Wayne’s life and Eddie’s, about the shop and the band and the friends Wayne remembers from Hawkins. You’re a little worried the sudden absence of Chrissy might come up, considering how she was such a long-time fixture in Eddie’s life, but Wayne is far more tactful than Eddie can sometimes be, and your concern never comes to pass. You’re both fascinated and thoroughly delighted by the anecdotes they share, silly stories of Eddie's childhood and recollections of times long past but fondly remembered. You talk about yourself when prompted, telling Wayne about your family, your work, and your interests, falling so far into the contentment of this exchange with the Munson men that by the time the sun has begun to wane, you find yourself genuinely disappointed that the visit is over.

Wayne tries to send you off with the remains of the cobbler, citing his nephew’s sweet tooth, but Eddie is adamant in pointing out that Wayne's is just as big. Well wishes are exchanged; soft plans and promises are made to see one another again soon. "You should come and see us next time," Eddie throws over his shoulder on his way to the door, "once we have our own place."

"Yes," you add eagerly, "We can take you to the bakery where the cobbler came from. They make really great cannolis, too, if you like those."

Wayne claps an open palm against his nephew's shoulder, eyes crinkling with his grin. "You better treat 'er good, son," he says sincerely. "She's a keeper."

Your voice is so firm, firmer than it's been all afternoon, that the Munson men nearly startle with it. “No.” They both blink at your vehemence, but you turn your resolute gaze to dark curls and quartz skin, pink lips and amber eyes. “He’s the keeper.”

You look at Eddie, and you know what your eyes are saying: that he's the only one that can make you flutter and bloom, that every sweet drop of succulent fruit spilling from your tongue is for him. You know you've peeled back your layers and shown your green. And when that gentle pink spreads over his cheeks— when Eddie's expression softens, glowing with bashful pleasure, pride, and adoration— you find it's quite alright that you’ve let these two men see all the way down to the center of you.

The asphalt of the bar's parking lot is worn and cracked, but you know it so well you don't have to look down to avoid the potholes when you skirt around the side of the building, heading towards the back. Your eyes quickly find where Eddie's van is parked alongside the wall, but you don't approach it; that isn't why you've ventured here. Instead, you head right for that gray door set into crumbling brick, the one with the light that floods it from above, illuminating its chipping paint. Your duffel brushes against the flakes as you rap quickly, glancing around tensely until the door cracks open to reveal a familiar dirty-blonde mop and blue eyes.

You pass the bag into Gareth's waiting hand, voice low and intent. "We still good?"

"Yeah," he says a little breathlessly, darting a quick look over his shoulder before his face whips back to you. "Head back during 'Around the Fur.' Tania will show you where to go."

You nod, and in a flash, he's gone. You twist the handle, bracing against its weight, and with your careful guidance, the door thumps gently closed.

A handful of minutes later and you're seated at your normal spot at the bar, sipping on soda water mixed with grenadine for color to maintain the illusion of normalcy. Your normal spot is in the front corner directly beside the hinge-top, so you can sit up there when the weekend crowds make it difficult to see from a barstool. Thursday isn't typically a busy day, but tonight's occasion is special, so the place is already buzzing even though the performance isn't supposed to begin for another forty minutes. You're facing the bar rather than out towards the crowd, chatting idly with Jimmy as he makes drinks for customers. You're trying to distract yourself from the bouncing of your knee and the nerves making your leaves shake restlessly, but it's hard when your eyes keep catching on the black streamers behind the bar.

You'd spent winter, spring, and summer watching Corroded Coffin slowly grow from regular performers at a single bar to a healthy rotation at half a dozen, from averaging one show a week to four, from modest crowds of screaming fans to immodest crowds of a whole lot more. Eddie was beyond pleased, as were Gareth, Jeff, and Brian, and you'd relished in their success with your consistent presence at their shows at least once a week, more if you could swing it. Of all the places Corroded Coffin plays, this bar— despite its dingy, seedy visage— is still your favorite because it had been the first, the beginning of everything for them and for you. It makes sense why Eddie had chosen here for the festivities tonight, and you were grateful for it because of that intimacy. Still, even with all the shows you've seen, you've never been as nervous as you are for this one.

A hand on your shoulder draws your attention from Jimmy to green eyes shimmering with iridescent powder, and despite your nerves, you beam as you spin on the stool to embrace your friend, muffling your eager greeting into her auburn hair. She shimmies you in her grasp, squealing her enthusiasm as you rest your chin on her shoulder, meeting familiar hazel eyes beneath an artfully disheveled fringe. Tan fingers run through the strands as Steve waits to greet you with a broad, lopsided smile, though you’re both diverted when his girlfriend steps away to survey you, her nose wrinkling in confusion. “Is that what you’re wearing up there?”

You look down at your cream dress with its sweetheart neckline, extending a foot to examine one delicate ballet flat. It’s very in line with what you’d typically wear, both to Eddie’s shows and otherwise. You squint at Karoline skeptically, about to explain when Steve beats you to it. “Kar,” he says, fondly amused, “it’s a surprise, remember?”

Steve looks to you, and you nod your confirmation, holding up your virgin drink as you add, “All for the illusion. I worked everything out with the guys. You’ll see.”

In typical dramatic fashion, Karoline actually smacks her forehead. “Duh,” she says, chuckling self-deprecatingly, and you surge with admiration for her ability not to let anything embarrass her. She leans into Steve’s side, who wraps an arm around her comfortably. “Of course you have it all planned out. It’s gonna be the best birthday present Eddie’s ever had in his life.”

You smile, though you feel your nerves mix with bashfulness. “Well, I don’t know about that,” you hedge, but you pout when you see Steve shaking his head in exasperation, hazel eyes locked on you. “What?” you ask, crossing your arms tight in your lap, feeling a little exposed under his gaze.

But that hazel isn’t dulled like briny mud or sharp with bitterness. Instead, Steve just huffs a wry laugh as his lips curl knowingly. “Yeah,” he says quietly, fondly, and it pierces through the self-consciousness. “She’s right, y/n. He’s gonna love it.”

Though you don’t reply, your gaze softens, and you know Steve can read the gratefulness there. “Come on, Kar.” He nudges his girlfriend gently, and she reaches out to squeeze your hand one last time before they head off into the gathering crowd. You squeeze back, taking strength from their support before they slip away.

Steve and Karoline aren’t your only friends here. As you sip your drink and the sweet fizz of the flavored soda water dances on your tongue, you remain facing the room, eyes scanning the sea of bodies that buzz with impatient energy as they await the start of the show. Slowly, some other beloved faces emerge from the anonymity: Tara and Lisa nestled snug in the middle, Penny in the back corner, as far from the stage as she can manage to avoid the potential of Eddie spotting her. Their presence is a temporary balm for your nerves, offering silent support despite the distance. Part of you wishes they were right beside you, but you’d told them to stay away; you didn’t want to risk tipping Eddie off, valuing the sake of your surprise over the comfort they’d provide you.

It hadn’t been easy keeping your plans from Eddie, though you’d been determined to do it, knowing the payoff would be worth it. It took weeks of frantic last-minute meetings with the guys you could only swing when Eddie was working overtime (which he never remembered to tell you about ahead of time), weeks of singing the same song over and over in your empty apartment, snatching moments of opportunity in those tiny gaps before Eddie’s return would have you falling mute. You practiced relentlessly, knowing you’d chosen a challenging song, one that would not only showcase but stretch the limits of your skill. You wanted your performance to be perfect, but not for the crowd, though that was, of course, a factor. Mostly, you wanted to impress Eddie, to show him how tall you’ve grown with his tending. And after all those weeks of scheming and sneaking, weeks you’d spent on edge knowing one small misstep from anyone involved would have Eddie— blessedly, cursedly intuitive Eddie— poking at you relentlessly until he’d pried the secret from your clamped lips and ruined everything… somehow, he’d never caught on. And now, as the bar’s lights dim almost to darkness and the stage billows with haze that drips like liquid smoke onto the floor below, it’s finally time.

Watching Eddie perform always takes your breath away, but this time feels different. When he mosies up to center stage, strumming the two chords of the song they’d chosen to open with tonight, the crowd’s raucous cheering matches the broad, wolfish grin on his face, sharp and black and utterly delighted at the electricity in the air. The energy stirs you too: blood thrums hot in your veins, washing you with heady anticipation as Eddie’s dark eyes find yours like they always do a moment before he presses his plush lips to the mic. “Hey,” he purrs, and feminine shrieks fill the air, mixing with the clash of drums and the grinding of Eddie’s guitar. This is familiar, too; when he knows you’ll be there, Eddie always starts the set with the same song. “This town don’t feel mine,” he croons, and the flutter of your wings surges from the pit of your stomach up to your ribcage, stirring your green to restlessness. Not just because of what this means to you— it always means something that Eddie begins with the song you’d told him you liked most the first night you’d met— but also because you know that tonight, you won’t just be looking up at him, watching him from below. You’ll be joining him up there, allowing yourself to be perceived.

Nonetheless, you smile at him, hoping the curve of your lips doesn’t tremble before he looks away. Once he releases you, your shoulders sag, relief rushing as you reach absentmindedly for the dainty gold chain around your neck, rubbing your thumb against the textured object hanging there as you watch the guys perform. There’s rarely a moment you aren’t wearing the red and white shell, so the gesture has become nearly automatic, a soothing repetitive motion you turn to whenever Eddie isn’t near. It doesn’t quite settle your nerves now, but it carries you through the next couple of songs, keeping your fidgeting from becoming obvious. And your nerves are almost forgotten completely when Eddie turns around for the first time to show off the new ink on his back, an early birthday present to himself he’s debuting for his fans today: a pair of dragon wings curving across his shoulders and down to his waist, shifting as he continues to strum during the breakdown. The screeches that accompany the reveal are nearly feral, and you giggle when you see the tell-tale quiver of his shoulders that tells you he's trying not to laugh.

You’re okay until Gareth whips his sweat-damp mop of hair, beating out the distinctive hits that begin Around the Fur. No amount of self-soothing could quell the wave of adrenaline that rushes through you then, rustling your green like a gust of tumultuous wind. You take a deep breath before you slide off the stool, and your legs are nearly jelly beneath you as you press through the sea of bodies, cutting a laborious path toward the back of the crowd. Resisting the rising claustrophobia, you make a large circle around to the other side of the stage, slipping into the corridor that leads to the bathroom. It’s blessedly wide and empty, cavernously echoing with the reverberations of Brian’s bass and Gareth’s kick drum. You savor the relief of being freed from the crush of damp bodies for just a moment before striding down the hallway, bypassing the bathrooms and heading directly to the door that leads backstage.

Sure enough, just as Gareth had promised, his girlfriend Tania is there to collect you, her eyes wide with focused intent as she leads you to the dressing room she’d prepared. You rush after her, heart pounding as she ushers you inside and closes the door. “We’ve got about five minutes before you need to be at the side stage,” she says, striding over to the rack as you step out of your flats and lift the hem of your dress at the same time. You shed your clothes hastily, eyes locked on the outfit that hangs from the bar, the one she’d helped you pick last week. It's all black and comprised of a mix of textures, some tight, some sheer, topped with leather and accents of silver to match Eddie’s chains. More daring than you’ve ever worn and perfectly curated for this moment.

Expertly, Tania gathers the fabric of your thin tights in her fingers, rolling them down for you to step into. Together, you clothe your body in the rest: the short, tight dress, the sheer mesh turtleneck that layers beneath it, the tall boots that tie over your knees. You swap your dainty gold studs for dangling silver swords, lifting your arms so Tania can clasp the buckles of your harness belt over your chest and around your waist, tugging gently on the straps and stepping back to ensure it’s sitting right. She nods sharply, satisfied, glancing at her smartwatch. “Two minutes for makeup,” she says, and though your face flashes with nervousness, obediently you sit, folding your hands in your lap as she snatches up the eyeliner from the beauty counter beside you. With a tightly-knit brow, she lines your lids using quick, fast strokes, smudging the liner expertly with the side of her thumb before twisting open a tube of burgundy lipstick. She takes her time with your lips, surveying you clinically afterward before her black lips split in an eager grin.

“You’re ready,” she says, and the surety in her voice almost makes you believe it.

Backstage the floor is a mess of wires which you step over carefully like they're landmines. You hover in the wings with a fluttering heart as you wait for your cue, the muted mic growing slippery in your hands. It feels suddenly surreal to be here, gazing at the band from this new vantage point. You can see Gareth wailing on the drums, Brian’s thick fingers working the bass, Jeff’s head bobbing as he hunches over the keys, but your eyes are drawn time and again to the front lights glowing on the sweat-slick skin of Eddie’s back, burnishing his dark curls to deep, rich brown as the wings on his back shift and roil. Beyond him are blurs of movement, the undulating shapes of indiscernible bodies captivated by his performance. As you see the flash of hands reaching from that sea of dark, you feel a sudden shiver of doubt prickle up your spine. Eddie’s been performing for years; he commands the stage with ease. What if you, in comparison, are lackluster? What if the crowd is disappointed by your sudden intrusion? Doubt settles heavy in your stomach.

What if they don’t like me?

The sudden thought has your head spinning, but there isn’t time to dwell on that because Gareth’s beating on the cymbals, and the song is ending, and Jeff is speaking, voice hoarse with exertion but forming the words that seal your fate.

“—as you all might know, today is a special day. Today, this motherfucker right here turns twenty-six.” Eddie’s curls whip as he looks at Jeff, a shared manic grin splitting their faces as the audience whoops and hollers for him.

“You’re fuckin’ old, dude!” Gareth shouts, loud enough to be heard even though he isn’t mic’d, and there’s a wave of laughter.

“Oh, fuck off, man,” Eddie’s amplified voice is sharp and loud, nearly startling, and you duck back slightly so he won't see you, heart hammering as he twists to give Gareth the middle finger. The words could be angry, but he’s smiling, and his voice warms to match it. “No, but honestly, there’s nowhere else I’d rather celebrate one more year of dodging the grave than right here with all of you, in the place this whole fuckin’ mess really took off, with the guys who made it happen—” From behind, you see Eddie’s head turn towards the bar, towards where you’re always sitting. “And—” when his voice falters, you know he’s noticed you aren’t there anymore.

Jeff cuts in quickly. “And we’ve planned a special treat for you.” He pauses dramatically, teeth flashing into a smug smile. “A special treat for you, Ed,” he clarifies, and you don’t have the luxury of watching Eddie’s head whip toward him again because that’s your cue.

You lift your chin, and as you move out of the shadows, each successive step allows the glare of the front lights to illuminate you more and more: every dip and curve of your body, every sway of your ample hips as you approach your boyfriend from behind. It takes a moment for the crowd to realize what’s happening, and once they do, you hear the realization wash over them in a tittering wave. You thought you’d known what it would be like to be on stage, to have all those eyes on you, staring, boring down to the most minute details of your appearance. But it’s one thing to know it and quite another to experience it. And the doubt, the nervousness, the fear, the self-consciousness— they’re suddenly all laid bare in the harshness of the unforgiving spotlight you’re walking into.

You keep your eyes fixed on black and white, the reason you’re here. They run over Eddie’s slack arm hanging at his side, over those chunky rings and ruddy knuckles, over the tapestry of dark ink, the way the curve of his shoulder slopes into the cords of his pale quartz neck, the curl of his damp hair against his cheek. The moment feels longer than it lasts in reality, the time between the audience’s noticing and Eddie’s, and you use it to caress him with your gaze, to memorize the flutter of his dark lashes and the rise of his bare chest as he finally starts to turn.

The moment whittles down to nothing but the look in those honey-brown eyes as Eddie finally sees you, a look powerful enough to wither the depth of your doubt. You flick the switch on the side of the mic as you walk toward him, illuminated fully now, light gleaming off the smoke and silver of your armor, armor that matches your beloved’s. The armor is his, but your voice is all your own when you finally speak.

“Hi, Ed,” you say into the mic, and your voice is velvety like a hush of wings but also rich like sweet, ripe fruit.

Eddie’s plush lips hang open as his eyes dart over you, unable to settle, his face slack and stupefied, brown eyes impossibly large in his pretty face. There’s a moment of silence before he replies almost dazedly, “Hi, sweet girl.”

A wave titters through the crowd again, murmurs of recognition, encouragement, and disappointment alike— disappointment, perhaps, from some of the girls that didn’t realize Eddie was taken— but they don’t matter now. Because the whole reason you’re here is staring at you like he’s trying not to pinch himself to check if he’s dreaming. In the face of Eddie’s slack-jawed awe, you smile. “Happy birthday, Eddie,” you say, and Jeff starts the track for Passenger.

It seems to take a moment for Eddie to understand what’s happening— that you’re not only on stage with him, dressed the way you’re dressed, looking the way you look, but that you’re holding the mic to your lips, not retreating as the song begins. He misses the first strum but scrambles to catch up as Gareth starts the drumbeat, fingers moving but eyes locked on you. And you’re looking back at him, looking back until your eyes slip closed so you can sink into that familiar headspace and let the rest of the world— the stage, the lights, the stares, the crowd— fall away. Until it’s just you, your voice, and Eddie’s song, the song you’re singing to him.

“Here I lay, still and breathless; just like always, still I want some more—”

It’s exactly how you’d sounded in the quiet of your apartment, breathy and haunting, but even better now with the microphone’s vocal effects. You sink into the comfort of your weeks of practice, letting that carry you through to the final line of the verse, the last moment of gentleness before the song intensifies.

“Now to calm me, this time won’t you please—” your brow scrunches and your voice surges up as you drag out the words, “—drive faster!”

The grinding of the guitar, the thrum of the bass, the fury of the drums— they fill you up like Eddie’s smoke voice, like the light in his eyes and the rasp of his calloused hands against your green. You channel it all as you sing the chorus, pouring out your passion for all to see.

“Roll the window down, this cool night air is curious. Let the whole world look in, who cares who sees anything? I’m your passenger. I’m your passenger.”

With Eddie, you’ve grown tall and strong. For Eddie, you’re blooming right open, finally unafraid to be perceived.

You’ve given Eddie a precious gift, and he intends to thank you, to ensure you know that you belong to him.

He’d been on you the moment you both walked through the front door, hasty and needful, fisting his broad hands at your inner thighs and ripping your thin tights to shreds to expose your heat. Your desire rushed hot and thick as he dragged you down to the ground, burying his face in your pussy right there on the dining room floor, too hungry for you to wait for the bedroom. He devoured you, relentless despite the writhing of your hips and your fists tugging at his curls in a grip that must have been painful.

You came the first time on his tongue.

Afterward, he’d lifted you in his arms and carried you to the bed you share, laying you gently across the down comforter as your chest heaved with your panting. He undressed you tenderly, working you back up unhurriedly, pressing teasing kisses to every inch of your skin until you were squirming and needy again. Then, when you were ready, Eddie fucked you deep and slow, tucking your knees to your chest, his guitar pick swinging to brush against your skin with every grind of his hips until you came a second time on his cock, shuddering and whimpering.

And now he has you on all fours, face down, arms curled atop the sheets as his hips smack against your ass, making your doughy flesh jiggle. He’s clutching your hips so tight you know there’ll be marks tomorrow, little oval bruises that act as evidence of his passion for you. It only makes you burn hotter for him. As do his words— his smoke that you inhale eagerly with heaving breaths until it coils rich and heady in your belly.

“—so fuckin’ sexy up there, singing my song like that. Got me so fuckin’ hard, babe, I could’ve fucked you right there on that stage—” You whimper, pushing your hips back, his praise motivating you to take him deeper. “Oh yeah,” Eddie groans, raspy with approval. “That’s it, sweet thing. Bounce that perfect ass on me.” He starts to fuck into you harder as you obey, rocking back against him until the claps echo alongside your whimpers and his low, breathy sounds of pleasure.

It’s fairly commonplace for Eddie to make you cum twice, but your third orgasm has long been elusive. You’ve typically found yourself too sensitized for it, your clit too puffy and raw for even Eddie’s light, careful touch to be pleasant. But something seems different tonight. Maybe it’s the thrill of performing successfully on stage with him, or the patience with which he’s playing your body so expertly, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s not touching your clit directly, that it’s just his heavy balls swaying rhythmically against your lips, a slight slap that makes you tingle every time you push back to meet his steady thrusts. Whatever it is, you can feel the cinders of your arousal build back up again under his faithful attention, and you drag your teeth against your bottom lip, relishing in the feeling of him behind you.

His fingers had been pressing bruisingly into your hips, but now Eddie’s grip softens and shifts, his broad, calloused hands rubbing wide circles over your ass as he praises you again. “Have I ever told you,” Eddie says musingly, his voice low and edged with teasing, “how goddamn gorgeous your ass is?”

He plays idly with your cheeks as you chuckle. “Only all the time,” you say, and the sound of your laugh hitches when he grabs two handfuls of your pliant flesh, pulling your cheeks apart as he continues to fuck you steadily. When he continues to hold your ass like that, and you hear a low groan, you rush with heat as you realize he must be watching himself disappear into your heat. You imagine what he sees: his cock, thick and flushed pink, engulfed over and over down to the hilt by your slick, puffy pussy. Your entrance is stretched tight, dragging with him slightly as if reluctant to let him go when he pulls his hips back. You flutter at the thought, squirming in his hold as your cinders catch to a low flame again, now for the third time. You can feel your thighs sticking to his on every thrust, can hear how wet you sound, and you’re suddenly envious of his view—

“Shit, baby,” Eddie breathes, and the heat in his voice makes you pulse. “You’re so fuckin’ messy, coating my whole dick. Pussy’s so creamy, just wanna—”

You’re left with no warning before his thick length is suddenly and abruptly pulled from you, leaving you mournfully empty as you feel the bed shift and lurch behind you, jostling your knees. Eddie isn’t gone from you long, though, as you quickly feel his breath puff hot against your skin before he licks a broad stripe up your pussy.

You sigh at the feeling of his tongue on your puffy lips, which is so gentle it’s almost a relief compared to the, admittedly, delicious pounding you’d just been receiving. Eddie groans his eager satisfaction as he tastes you, and you answer back with a moan of your own, widening your knees and settling into the new sensation. Your hips jerk slightly when his chin bumps against your sensitized clit, but Eddie doesn’t linger there long. Instead, after laving your entrance thoroughly, tasting you until he’s satisfied, he merely starts at the apex of your heat, dragging his tongue briefly along your clit on his journey up to your entrance. Up, slowly and steadily and deliberately— up to your entrance but then past it, because Eddie just keeps moving up, up, up, and he doesn’t stop until his tongue has dragged across the tight pucker of your hole.

You burst instantly with flutters, with fire that licks your belly and leaves your head rushing at the unexpected feeling of Eddie’s tongue there. It’s not something you’ve never done together, but it’s not something you do all the time, and the novelty of it feels both naughty and profoundly thrilling. Your breath deepens as you wait, muscles tensed as you feel Eddie’s breath puff warm against your skin again, but this time at that delicate, sensitive spot between your cheeks. The anticipation is torturous, and involuntarily, you feel yourself clench and flutter at the feeling. Eddie hums low in his throat like he’s both satisfied and amused at your reaction, and you’re near to a whine when you feel his tongue— broad and firm, warm and wet— as he licks your ass again.

Your whine melts to a breathy gasp as Eddie’s calloused hands land on your cheeks, his thumbs prying them apart for better access as he pushes his face closer. The way he’s licking you here isn’t the same as the way he licks your pussy. With your pussy, Eddie varies the pressure and the rhythm, sometimes swirling and sometimes sucking as he plays with your lips and your clit. Now, each stroke of his tongue is even and consistent, predictable almost, like he’s slowly devouring an ice cream cone.

But oh, is it effective. Before long, you’re whimpering, a high sound of feminine need, louder when you feel one hand leave your cheek and Eddie fills your pussy with two fingers, curling them deliciously so your hips buck. He ignores your clit, working you with his fingers in time with his broad tongue which swipes against you again and again, dragging warm and wet over your puckered hole. Your fingers fist in the bedding as your hips begin to shift, tiny circles that match his movements. His fingers continue, but you feel his tongue pause so he can croon, “Aw. It's like that, huh?”

Eddie’s voice is smug, knowing, and it only twists you tighter, making the flame of your desire burn brighter for him.

“Fuck, Eddie, that feels so—” you break off in a desperate whine, very undeniably affected by what he’s doing.

"I know, baby, I know.” Eddie chuckles, licking your ass through his laughter, and the breathy sound of his amusement shouldn’t be arousing, but it is. “You were winking at me back here. Couldn't resist.”

He keeps licking you, long, measured strokes that he times with the push and crook of his fingers until you’re desperate for him to stretch you open again. This feels good, really good, but the flame growing in your belly— the burn of your need— can only be sated by one thing. “Ed,” you plead, “please, please fuck me again— need your cock now, need you—”

No matter how much he might tease and play with you, Eddie can never resist the sweetness of your voice when you beg for him.

You feel the bed shift behind you again, Eddie’s knees brushing the inside of yours as he straightens up and shuffles closer to you. You feel his head firm and spongy against your puffy lips, and though his length has been left neglected for a while, if anything, he’s even harder now as he pushes back inside you. The thought that Eddie was just as aroused by licking your ass as you were to feel him do it makes you shiver, pleasurable tingles racing up your spine as he slides thick and hot back where he belongs inside you. The stretch is delicious, as is the rasp of his wiry hair against your clit when he grinds in slow and firm, pressing as deep as he can go.

“Mmm—” you push back into him, widening your legs to lower the angle just slightly, and Eddie hisses as he nudges against the end of you.

“Feel good?” he rasps, kneading your thighs as he circles his hips languidly, letting you enjoy the deep press of him inside you. “Is my cock makin’ you feel good, sweet girl?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “yeah, Eddie, I love your cock, baby. You make my pussy feel so good.”

He sighs harshly, and you flutter and tingle with pleasure as he pulls back and thrusts forward sharply, punching a delighted moan out of you. “Yeah, Eddie, like that,” you say, voice thick and sticky with your need for him. “Fuck me like that.”

He thrusts into you once more, slowly building up his pace until he’s fucking you evenly like he was before, holding your hips in his broad hands. His cock stokes the burn in your belly, filling you with steady pleasure that is making you feel good like you’d told him. But after his tongue, the air of your bedroom is cold on your hole, slick from Eddie’s spit. And you’re just realizing you really miss the feeling when something hits you there— something wet and warm that lingers for a moment before beginning to slide, guided by gravity to drip down the delicate skin between your ass and your entrance.

Eddie’s spit.

You’re just recovering from the realization that Eddie has spit on your hole when you feel the calloused pad of his thumb press against it, rubbing you there as he maintains the pace of his hips. You moan, arching your back and rocking eagerly into the feeling of him massaging you with his thumb while he fucks your pussy. Before you know it, you’re panting, nearly squirming with your desire for more— more cock, more thumb, more touch, more something.

Your desire is purring within you, making your answer to Eddie’s question come quick and easy. “You want my thumb inside?” he asks, and immediately you’re nodding, the tingling fire of your arousal bursting to life again.

You know that nodding isn’t really enough to confirm what you want, but a little vocalization is all you can manage. “Mm-hmm,” you hum, voice wavering as your body rushes with anticipation.

“Shit, that’s so hot,” Eddie mutters under his breath, and you whimper when he pauses in his movements, both his thumb and his hips as if he needs to stop entirely in order to concentrate. And then the pressure against your hole steadily and evenly begins to increase.

You arch your back further, encouraging him with your posture and the little breathy sounds you let spill from your lips as you pant. He pushes in steadily until the tip of his thumb pops inside you up to the first knuckle, and the breach has you clenching on him instantly. "That's it, baby. Take it,” Eddie husks, and the smoke of his voice settles low in your belly, mixing with the heat of your fire as he starts to thrust his cock into you again.

As he resumes his pace, splaying the rest of his fingers along one cheek to hold onto you comfortably, you find yourself nearly overwhelmed by all the sensations— the rasp of his wiry curls against your heated lips, the lewd shlicking sounds of your wetness as he pounds into you, the pleasant sting of his thumb and the delicious stretch of his cock, the feeling of being breached and filled by him in two places instead of one. Your flames twist high, flaring hotter and hotter until you’ve turned into a whiny mess— lips parted, brow scrunched, eyes screwed shut as you twist the comforter in your fists and bury your face in it. It doesn’t stop your whines and moans, though they’re muffled now, uttered into the soft fabric beneath you.

“Ah-ah—” Eddie’s rasp is chastizing as he bends over your back, his hot, sticky chest now flush with the breadth of your shoulders. As he does, incidentally, he presses further in: his cock bullies up against the end of you and his thumb slips deeper, stretching you as you stutter a moan into the comforter. He grips your hair to turn your head, pausing for a moment to press his palm lightly against the side of your face for emphasis. "Don’t do that,” Eddie pants, pushing himself up with one hand against the bed before grabbing hold of your hip and fucking into you again, his other hand still firmly gripping your cheek with his thumb buried inside. “Wanna hear every sound out of those pretty lips.”

You’re officially a wreck now. Panting, moaning with every breath, mouth open and drooling against the bed, face hot and flushed as he pounds you, brain empty of anything but Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. You look up at him, glassy-eyed and adoring, and he groans raggedly, face pinching as he sees just how fucked out you are. "Jesus Christ, you look so—” He breaks off in a grunt, dragging his teeth against his plush bottom lip before groaning, “fuck, m'close, but I want another one from you. Can you give me one more, sweet girl?"

Your nose skims the sheets with each thrust as you rock with Eddie’s movements, teary eyes locked on his pretty face: the flush of his cheeks, how his damp curls kiss them as they sway; the plush of his swollen lips as he swipes his pink tongue across them; the shadow of his jaw and the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows thickly; the look in his brown eyes, heavy and hazy, molten to deep honey as he watches you take him so well like the good girl you are. Your thoughts are sluggish, melty with the heat of your desire, the flames that lick up your abdomen. It takes you a moment to realize Eddie has asked you a question.

Can you give me one more, sweet girl? Will you let me make you cum again?

Your focus hones to the stretch of him filling you, his cock pumping hot and thick in your pussy, his thumb and splayed fingers holding you in place. And as you think about it— think about how pretty Eddie looks, how his cock feels inside you— you find yourself wanting one thing. You want Eddie to cum. You want to see the way his brow pinches and his mouth falls open, to hear his smoke voice high and tight as you make him moan, to feel the way he holds you as he twitches and pumps warm cum deep inside you, claiming you as his.

Your bottom lip drags against the comforter as you close your drooling mouth, and you bite it through a tiny, petulant whine of protest at the realization that waiting for your orgasm means having to wait longer for Eddie’s. “Eddie,” you whine, brow crinkled pleadingly, trying to urge him toward what you desire. “Want your cum in me.”

Eddie huffs, cheeks pinking further, eyes darkening at the petulance in your voice. “Yeah, baby?” he husks. “You want my load?”

Your eyes widen hopefully, an expression of earnest, cock-dumb need. “Mm-hmm,” you hum, whimpery and urging again. “Please cum in me, Ed.”

Eddie can never resist your pleading, but this time, your words make his brown eyes flash. He chuckles breathlessly, expression lighting with mischief. And you should have been prepared, but you’re too gone to notice, so it takes you entirely off-guard when Eddie purrs, "I know what you really want, y/n. You want me to fuck a baby into you.”

Instantly, you burst with tingling flutters; you gasp sharply as goosebumps rush along your back and arms, racing up your spine to tingle in your scalp, tightening your nipples and leaving you reeling. It’s not something you and Eddie have discussed before, and you aren’t expecting how affected you are by the thought of Eddie giving you a baby. You shudder, a full-bodied and unmistakeably obvious physical reaction to his words, one you have no hope of stifling.

Eddie groans, deep and low in his chest as he feels and sees your reaction to his words. “Shit, you do, don’t you? I fuckin’ knew it.”

He sounds smug but excited, and you can’t help but feel embarrassed by the strength of your sudden desire. Because you do want that— in just the same way as the first time you had your mouth on him, when Eddie asked you if you wanted his cum. Though the suggestion hadn’t consciously occurred to you before, you realize it has been there, buried deep down like the seed that has since sprouted and grown tall under his careful tending. A hidden desire that now has been exposed, leaving you open and vulnerable.

But then Eddie’s smoke voice gentles, sounding so sincere as he says, “I can't wait to see you, y/n.” The fingers clutching at your hip ease, and your breath hitches as Eddie slides his calloused hand down to cup the soft of your stomach, holding you, supporting you in an embrace seemingly at odds with the way he’s fucking into you. “Gonna be so gorgeous. Belly all round, tits so big… beautiful, sweet girl.” You feel your green quiver and bloom with the strength of your love, but also with this poignant, sharp longing that floods you.

He’s right behind you, holding you, inside you. Eddie couldn’t be closer, but you still want more.

His voice is growing huskier, grittier, hoarsening with desire as he keeps talking. “I want everyone to see you. To see how incredible you are. They’ll see you, and everyone will know…” he breaks off in a grunt, chest heaving, words a little shakier as he continues, “they’ll know I fucked you full of my cum. I want everyone to know you’re my girl. I want them to know you’re mine."

That’s the more you’re yearning for: Eddie claiming you, filling you, marking you not just with bruises from his fingertips and his kisses but with his seed, with the evidence of your shared love growing inside you, sheltered by your body. A piece of Eddie and a piece of you, forever entangled. And as you hear each successive word, your longing twists tighter and your flame burns brighter and hotter until it’s tingling between your hips, driving you toward that elusive place you’ve already visited twice tonight.

Eddie’s fucking you hard and fast now, wound tight, seemingly stirred by his own words. “Is that what you want?” he pants. “You want me to give you a baby, y/n?”

You do. You really do. You want it so bad you can’t even speak beyond a broken, keening noise in your throat. “Tell me,” Eddie urges you, brown eyes nearly desperate. “Please, tell me you want it.”

Through your gasps and whimpers, you force out the words in a choked sob, only for him. "I want your baby, Eddie, I want—"

Your orgasm surges up so quickly your words cut off in a scream, and you cry out desperately, high and hoarse as it rushes through you. Longing and pleasure, desire and devotion, a combination so intense that you lose control of your body, swept away by an all-encompassing wave that has you twisting your fingers in the sheets and writhing, twitching, spasming on Eddie’s cock. You don’t even notice when he pulls out his thumb; your pussy flutters wildly as he holds on tight to your hips, wide-eyed and nearly overwhelmed by the vehemence of your reaction.

The illusion of his control shatters. Eddie’s hips stutter as he starts to whine, and now, he’s almost as much a mess as you are, though you’re too far gone to notice it. As you start to come down, all you can hear is his wavering smoke voice, choked and raw. "Oh, my God— good girl, you’re so— so good, my girl, oh shit, g-gonna make me cum, oh fuck, I-I’m—"

Eddie keens desperately, whiny and high, a beautiful broken sound of desperation as he finally spills inside you, filling you and filling you and filling you.

In the aftershocks of your pleasure, the warmth of Eddie’s cum brings a sense of peace and completion. When he chokes on a moan, rutting his hips against your ass as he shakes and trembles, you press back into him, sighing as you feel his cock twitch and jerk rhythmically with his release. If you had the energy, you’d push yourself up so you could press your back against his chest and thread your fingers in his curls to cradle his head, but after three orgasms and more than an hour of intense love-making, you’re feeling utterly exhausted. Luckily, Eddie’s feeling the same desire for closeness as you are— you hum, eyes blinking heavy-lidded as he drapes his sweaty torso over your back and wraps his firm arms around your middle, holding you close.

You relish the press of Eddie’s chest against your back, the frantic beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath, though his weight quickly becomes too heavy for your trembling, boneless arms. You push out a whimper and he gets the hint, pulling out and collapsing onto the bed in a heap beside you. Quick as you can, you turn towards him, fighting against the protest of your sore muscles to shimmy closer until you’re enveloped by his heat. You tangle your limbs together, ignoring all else: the sweat that makes your skin stick everywhere it touches, the mess of cum leaking from your pussy onto the comforter as you shift, the slightly-uncomfortable poking of his half-hard cock against your soft tummy. Because you don’t care about those things when you can gaze into the tired, sated eyes of the man you love, caress his cheek, kiss him softly, and hold him close, knowing this moment can last as long as you like.

You lay there basking in the glow until Eddie begins to untangle you, choosing to ignore your petulant grunt aside from a quick fond chuckle he huffs through his nose when he rolls off the bed. Your head flops back to the mattress, and you drift into that place just at the edge of dreaming, the distant sound of running water a fuzz of pleasant white noise in your ears. When the mattress dips, it pulls you out of it, and you stretch luxuriously across the bedding as you feel a warm, damp cloth against your inner thighs. You hum, rolling onto your back and spreading your legs for him, smiling up at Eddie as he cleans you gently. “Thank you,” you say, voice quiet and sleepy and sated. Eddie’s curls tickle your cheeks when he ducks to press a kiss to your lips. You frown suddenly in realization. “Hey,” you say, still quiet but a little more awake now as his lips pull away, dragging yours with them slightly. “Wait a minute. It’s your birthday— I should be taking care of you.”

Eddie flops down next to you, eyes sparkling as he grins, and you wonder how he can still have so much energy after fucking you for hours. “You’re right,” he says, “it is my birthday. And I wanna take you somewhere.”

Your frown turns from consternation to confusion. “You wanna take me somewhere for your birthday?” When he just nods, gazing at you hopefully, you soften. “Okay,” you hush through a smile, playing with a lock of his curls. “Of course. Where do you wanna go?”

Those plush lips twist a little sheepishly. “Well, it’s kind of far. Not that far,” he rushes, “it’s within driving distance, but… it would take a couple hours.” You don’t understand his hesitance until he adds, “And we’d need to leave soon.”

You squint. “How soon, Eddie?”

He grins, and there’s an edge of intentional charm in it, like he knows you can’t resist him when he’s being cute. “Um, in like… three hours.”

Your brows flash up. “You mean we’d have to leave at three in the morning?” When he looks at you, those pretty brown eyes all big and wide and pleading, it’s almost disgusting how quickly you relent. “Let’s do it,” you say, and the sparkling, crinkly-eyed beam that lights his face is an instant reward.

You and Eddie weave back together to steal a brief naked nap, waking with snuffles and pulling on warm comfortable clothes before rubbing the crust from your eyes. You make a pitstop in the living room so Eddie can check on Smaug the bearded dragon; you smile fondly as your boyfriend croons over him while Smaug blinks lazily, looking up at him from inside his elaborate glass enclosure.

“We should feed him before we go,” Eddie says, and your lips curve with a smile.

“How about a treat? Then we can give him his mealworms when we get back,” you suggest, giggling when Eddie wraps you in his arms, shuffling you forward with little steps over to the fridge. You pass him the small container of mushy strawberries, watching as Smaug snatches them up with his pale tongue, mashing the fruit with little smacks of his tiny jaws.

And as you prepare to head out, a sense of childish giddiness overtakes you at the fact that you're leaving in the middle of the night when it feels like the rest of the world is asleep, off on an impromptu adventure to who-knows-where. You turn to Eddie to see him bundled in his sweatshirt and thick joggers, lanky frame covered by swaths of soft fabric, his feet stuffed in his untied Reeboks. He jams a beanie over his wild curls, tugging until it’s arranged how he wants it, snug but not quite straight. You consider asking Eddie where he's taking you, but as he carefully fits a second knit beanie over your head, tongue poking between his lips as he adjusts it against your forehead, you decide you’d rather leave it a surprise.

You don’t need to know where you’re going; it’s enough to know who you’re going with.

Still, you can’t say you’d expected to end up where you are.

By late September, no one is looking to visit the beach. Certainly not at five in the morning, and especially not when the gate to access the park at the edge of the island is closed.

No one except Eddie Munson, that is.

To be fair, he hadn’t expected it to be gated off, though that was, in fact, his own oversight. But you had driven two hours to get here, and it is his birthday—well, the day after his birthday now— so it doesn’t take much coaxing at all to convince you to let him park on the sand half-concealed behind some scraggly trees and help you hop the gate.

It's quite a bit colder here at the shoreline than it was in the city; the salt air is gritty and harsh against your cheeks, and you're glad for the beanie keeping your ears protected as Eddie slings an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his warm side. It's cold and dark, but luckily, Eddie seems to know where he's going, illuminating your path with the flashlight on his phone. When the lighthouse looms out of the dark, towering red and white and still as a silent sentinel at the edge of the ocean, you assume that's where he intends to take you. But instead, Eddie skirts around it, leading you from concrete to sand before hopping spryly onto a low, flat rock that leads to the jetty.

Only then do you become wary. You'd been faithfully following along after him so far on this adventure, but the thought of feeling your way along giant rocks in the pitch black with nothing but the stars and your phone to guide you is unnerving. You squint, trying to gaze down the line of large, dark stones to see how far they go. They seem to stretch on almost endlessly. You shiver with apprehension as you imagine turning around to see the distant pricks of civilization at the shoreline, surrounded on both sides by the rush of the undulating sea, entirely exposed to the unknown.

But Eddie is holding out his broad hand, silver rings gleaming in the moonlight. Even in the dark of twilight you can see the rough callouses on his fingertips, the familiar scars of toil and dedication to his craft. You see the leather bracelet that wraps around his thin wrist, the strong tendons that disappear under the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

You look from his hand to his face, and even in the dark, there's light in Eddie's eyes.

"Come on, sweet girl," he says. "I got you. We'll go slow, okay?" His lips tilt with an earnest smile. "It'll be worth it," he murmurs. "I promise."

It is so worth it.

Every uncertain step, every slippery rock, every gap, Eddie guides you over with patience and care. Eddie's fingers hold yours tightly, growing slippery with the salt spray on the wind but never faltering in their firm grip on you. Carefully, slowly, you step from flat stone to flat stone, following in Eddie's steady, sure footsteps until the tightness in your chest eases. The jetty extends on forever, but you and Eddie tackle it bit by bit. You watch the sea play in the divots between stone as gradually, the sky lightens. It softens slowly from deep, dark velvet until, by the time you've reached the end of the jetty, it's bloomed into the cool, pale blue of approaching dawn.

Eddie goes before you, scuttling down the last few steps and holding out his arms for you. His hands close around your waist as you hop from the jetty to the sand, and you take his hand as he guides you to the strip of beach at the end of the island, edged by untamed green. You know deep down that you and Eddie are not the first to be here, but it almost feels that way. It feels as though you’re both removed from it all, claiming a little oasis for your own at the back of the world.

Cold seeps through your leggings as you sit, and Eddie flops ungracefully to mirror your position: legs bent, sneakers digging divots into the pliant sand, forearms resting on knees. The sea breeze plays with your hair beneath your beanies, but you’re used to its chill now, and you can feel the warmth of Eddie’s body right beside you— not quite touching, but close enough to keep you from shivering. You sit there quietly for some time, sitting side-by-side with Eddie, staring out at the sea. There is peace in watching the waves crash into foam that spreads thin across the beach, carrying delicate stones that dance when it recedes back into itself, only to return again and again.

As the pale blue of the sky begins to deepen to orange at the horizon line, you finally speak, your voice quiet and creaky from disuse. “Sunrise on the beach, Ed?” You slant a teasing glance at him. “This is a pretty sappy birthday gift.”

In the deepening light you can see that Eddie’s soft nose is stung pink from the cold, and he sniffles and wrinkles it before returning your glance. The sea wind is playing with his curls, turning them frizzy and wild and free. “Well,” he says, just as quietly, because in this oasis at the back of the world, there’s no need to raise his voice. “A while ago, I took a walk on the beach with this chick in Miami. Thought I might wanna do it again. See the sunrise with her this time.”

You try to bite back the wideness of your smile, but Eddie sees right through you, down to the heat in your cheeks and the sparkle of adoration in your eye and the verdant green of your soul. He shows off his dimple, grinning at you, pleased as he unfolds one arm to pinch your chin in his strong but gentle fingers. He looks at you for a moment, dark eyes dragging over your face in a soft caress before his thumb draws across your skin. “You like it?”

“I love it,” you say, thick and melty like honey. “I love you, Eddie.”

There’s soft pink on Eddie’s face. There’s the orange light of dawn in his eyes. “I love you, too,” he says. “I love you more than anything.”

You don’t try to stifle your smile that time. Instead, you direct it toward the sea, toward the rising sun, the cleft of brightness that emerges from the dark toil of the water. You lean your temple against the soft plush of Eddie’s shoulder, and he straightens his elbow to rest it again on his knee. You extend your arm, and he extends his, sliding his rough palm along your soft one and shifting his fingers ‘til they’re intertwined with yours.

Dawn is breaking, and you’re thinking about the beginning of things.

You don’t turn to look at him, because then, your courage might fail. “Earlier,” you say, small and quiet, almost a whisper, “was that just dirty talk? Or…?”

You don’t need to clarify further; Eddie knows what you’re referring to. His smoke voice is quiet when he answers, but it isn’t unsure. “No,” he says. “Not just dirty talk, sweet girl. I do want that.” His thumb strokes across the back of your hand, and its rasp leaves tingles in its wake. “Soon, if that’s what you want.”

Your blooms sigh. Your fruit is plentiful, more than enough to share. “I do,” you say, and Eddie turns his face to rest gently against your beanie.

His chin skims cold along your forehead, but his breath is warm as he murmurs, almost to himself, “Just wanna marry you first.”

The sun rises, and as you watch the new day dawn, the promise of the future has never tasted quite so succulently sweet.

#blueywrites #tkym #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fanfiction

614 notes · View notes

kissitbttr · 2 years

Text

my favorite part

pairing: modern!eddie munson x fem!reader

warning: mature content. smoking. sexual implications.

summary: a little glimpse of your meet-cute with eddie and sharing each other's blunt

word count: 2793

los angeles, california. 2007

“do i have something on my face?”

you giggle at his question, running your hands through his soft messy curls as his lips curl into a concerned frown. his eyes bore into yours as if asking for an answer.

it’s your very first morning together after moving in yesterday,. the two of you had enough money to get a small place downtown. one bathroom, a tiny kitchen and a singular bed with no bed frame. yet there’s no place you’d rather be than here with him.

eddie wakes up before you do, lighting up a blunt immediately from the bedside. the sweet smell of earthy joint causes you to wake as well shortly after.

“no, eds” a soft whisper falls from your lips as your eyes continue to observe every single detail of him. even the small hidden freckles you love so much. “you’re just… so handsome.”

eddie rolls his eyes, but he can’t contain the small blush creeping into his cheeks. he lowers his head down, shying away. but you refuse to let this man conceal himself away from you,

“hey now” you start, curling your fingers under his chin to make him look up at you. “we’ve been together for ozzy knows how long, don’t get embarrassed with me.”

“ozzy huh?” he chuckles, reaching out to softly pad his thumb across your lips. “I’m starting to grow on you, look at that baby.”

“yeah, yeah.” you wave him off, sitting up so you can lean your back against the wall before fixing your long curls into a bun, taking the blunt from his fingers. “kinda hard not to when we’ve been together for decades.”

he flashes you that dazzling smile, pupils dilating at the sight of your pretty self inhaling the smoke. your soft lips puckering around the freshly rolled blunt, eyes squinting lightly with those brows tipping in concentration.

eddie loves to drown himself in you. the hours he’d waste just by looking at you. because he thinks you are God’s best damn creation and no one could ever tell him otherwise. every inch of your body starting from the curve of your neck and down to your collarbones. then to the plump of your breasts and your soft thighs.

looking as good as the day you stole his heart.

you were working as a clerk at a record store the first time he laid eyes on you. and his jaw physically went slack. if he were ever a cartoon character, there would be hearts drawn in his eyes. you were leaning against the counter, chin plop down on your palm, with big beautiful eyes looking up to your co-worker as you talked

eddie had only moved to this place for a couple months, but he was really good at remembering who was who. the old man Chow who owns a deli, the three kids who like to play hopscotch when the sun is about to sets, the very nice mexican woman who offers him sandwiches to go whenever he runs out of groceries. he applauds himself for having a good photographic memory.

so he’s extremely sure that he’d recognize a pretty girl like you if he had been coming around to this store often. maybe the manager did hire you a few days ago?

“i just don’t know if I’ll ever be good enough! i mean, i love teaching those sweet kids, i do! but i need to have something.”

“you’ll get there, y/n. stop undermining your abilities. just go the audition and you’ll definitely kick ass. no one does it like you, babe. and I’m not saying this just because I’m your friend.”

he can’t help but to eavesdrop, wondering what on earth are you on about as he manages to sneak a glance at your face while pretending to skim through the 80s records. he frowns to himself once he sees your expression, looking a little too distraught. eddie wanted to know what or who made a pretty girl like you this upset.

“there’s an upcoming audition for missy elliot’s backup dancer, do you think i should sign up?”

‘oh so she dances’ he thinks, eyes casually jumping from the ac/dc record then back to you, trying to be discreet

“yes! oh my god are you kidding? you definitely should! missy would wanted you there. i know i would.”

eddie haven’t got a clue who is this ‘missy elliot’. call him a caveman but he never listens to tracks from 90s and up. he prefers to keep it old school. preferably rock and metal shit. because that’s what true music is all about.

however, the singer sounds like she could become your big break. upon hearing the giggle that escapes from your mouth and the toothy grin, he can’t help but to fall for that.

“okay, I’m heading to the back just for a minute. can you cover for me?” your co-worker, maya ask,

“of course sweetheart!” you respond, giving her a pat before she scurries out to the back.

now could be his chance. you’re all alone, standing there playing with your phone probably feeling bored. all he got to do was to walk up to you and say ‘hi’ right? what could possibly go wrong.

except the fact that eddie never really knew how to talk to girls. he was a flirt sure, but all of it was playful. it’s pretty easy to be flirty with people you’re not attracted to.

“hi, do you need help with something?”

he snaps back into reality as he sees you coming over with a polite smile. not knowing what to think or do when you look up to him, standing only inches away.

‘fucks sake, she’s even prettier up close’

eddie gulps, emitting a nervous chuckles as he scratches the back of his neck. “n-nope. I’m good, thank you.”

“oh. okay” you nod, still not leaving his side. “it’s just that you were staring at me for a while, even when i was talking with my friend. so i figured you needed some assistance.”

“well” he clears his throat, cheeks turning crimson red as he tightly grips the record. “i do actually, yeah. do you uh- do you guys have metallica’s black vinyl album?”

your lips twitch into a smirk, “yes of course, it’s right here” you drop down to his knee level, grabbing the last piece of the record before offering it to him. “i had a feeling you were looking for one.”

“what do you mean by that?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“dude, you dress like an 80s rock band. someone like kirk hammett and dave mustaine themselves. it wasn’t really hard to solve actually.”

he smiles slightly as he looks down on the album, “you must think it’s weird then, huh? seeing someone dressed like this.” he cowers a bit, because there goes his chance to win you. now you definitely think of him as a freak.

it’s like what those people said about him back in high school. it appears that no matter how far he’s willing to drive to god knows where, the name wouldn’t wear off

shaking your head, you ignore his accusation. “no. i think it’s adorable. fucking rad if i may add.”

he halts at that, his brown eyes gently rising up to meet yours. he tries to study your expression, as if waiting for the punchline that never comes. all of the sudden, his palms starting to get clammy, the beat of his heart fails to find its steady rhythm and there’s quite a weird sense of feeling in his stomach that isn’t going away.

your expression conveys sincerity. one that he hasn’t found in someone ever since he left that god awful town. because no one would ever wanted to love a freak, right?

“you think so?” he feels small as his voice comes out a little too quiet, watching you nod. “i mean, i appreciate all of that, i do but.. you hardly know me.”

with that you shrug, arms crossed. “you don’t have to know a person their entire lives to know what they’re really like.” despite detecting a tinge of hesitancy on his face, you continue,

“this may come off cliche but different doesn’t make you a freak. it makes you interesting. and i like interesting people.”

his heart grows profoundly at your simple answer. he enjoys how you make him feel at ease and safe without even realizing it.

he’s known you for less than 24 hours yet he’d like to spend more time with you.

“thank you. honestly” he looks at you, with a smile that never leaves your face. eddie mirrors the expression, feeling like he’s coming out of his shell. “you have no idea how long I’ve waited for someone to say that. when everyone kept labelling you a freak, you began to believe you were one.. "

“that just means they’re fucking losers. because let me guess, those people were the preppy jocks who probably live in mansions, spending all their daddies moneys to have parties every week when their parents out of town? also, letterman jackets and all that shit?”

he laughs. a genuine one. “accurate.”

“very obvious," you laugh as you brush your fingers across the white shelf. "I'm y/n," you say as you extend your other hand to him.

“eddie” he shakes it, gaze flickers down to your lips for a second. “nice to meet you, y/n”

“likewise. so, what’s your story here, eddie? are you working at somewhere or..” you trail off, trying hard to regain your composure, because jesus h. christ, he’s really cute.

“sort of. I’m in a band. i sing and play guitar. we do gigs here and there. next one is that shady bar downtown. let’s just hope it has enough people.” he blows out a sigh, his gaze exploring the store's interior. “would be a total blow if we only get five drunks.”

“It’s california, baby. there will be people.” you say in an obvious tone, “i mean who doesn’t love bands? don’t you see there will be girls who would line up to be your groupie?”

“yeah that sounds kinda nice, actually” he grins, loving how you encourage him while ignoring the flutter in his chest when you call him ‘baby’. “how about you? do you just work here?”

you shake your head. “I’m a dancer. i teach hip hop and ballet dancing at the youth community center. working here just makes it a whole lot easier for me to find new records i could use for class.”

“that sounds amazing. you’re very dedicated aren’t you?” he expresses truthfully, somewhat fascinated by your profession.

“i am, yeah” you press your lips into a smile, “these kids are amazing. they’re so talented and ambitious. I’m so glad i get to be the one to become their teacher. are they naughty? sometimes. but i wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

eddie could only smile while he tilts his head to the side, watching intently how you speak nothing but love for your passion and the kids. the way you make hand gestures to explain further how you feel about them, and the beaming smile that never seems to leave your face when you do.

and your voice… dear god, he could hear you talk all day long. it is like a fucking melody that he never wishes to stop. he bets that you could sing too. no wonder that he falls so swiftly.

he swears right there and then, someday, he’d get you to look like that when you talk about him.

“do you want to get burgers with me sometime?”

you notice a dopey smile decorating your boyfriend’s face, his eyes looking up to the ceiling like he’s thinking of something. probably a memory. you poke a finger into his arm, shifting your weight to lay next to him as you nestle closer. tracing the initials of your name inked on his bare chest.

“what are you thinking?”

he cradles you closer by pulling your waist, telling you to lay your leg around his waist. “the first time we met.”

you hum softly, finding yourself grinning as the image immediately finds its way to your mind. “best day of my life. you wore the cutest outfit the day you walked into that record store.”

“okay, metallica is not cute. they’re bad ass.” he defends, shooting you an offensive look.

“you made it cute, munson.” you reply back, pecking his cheek. “especially with that adorable smile you had on. dimples and everything.”

“yeah?” he has no idea how you make it so easy to get his heart pounding inside his chest. “well you're one to talk. with that black bandana and those big hoop earrings, you got going on. looking like the perfect dream girl I’ve always imagined having.”

the way he speaks to you has always been something that you love about him. whenever you're around him, it's like the cupid never left. name any greatest love songs to ever exist, it would speak about how you feel about him.

eddie has made it clear for the past few years that he was the lucky man that got your heart. never in his life, he'd gotten this far. living in an apartment in California, performing in bands and events, and having a girlfriend that'd do anything for him. you'd often brush him off, telling him that he was overreacting while you knew the truth deep down.

that you're the lucky one.

"that's not true." you loop your finger around his beautiful chocolate curls." i think it's me who's lucky enough to snatch you. thank god I did, or else you would be fucking another girl from your show." grimacing at the thought of eddie being someone else than you.

"impossible baby" he shakes his head, taking another drag of his weed before setting it aside. "from the moment i saw you i knew that, you're all that i wanted in a woman."

"did you just quote 'skippin' by Mario?" you ask in disbelief, mouth gaping. seemingly cannot believe that he actually did. he doesn't answer you, only tearing his gaze away. "oh my god you so did!" you squeal, attacking his face with kisses after.

"okay, okay! baby, stop!" he begs in between laughter, removing your hands from his cheeks. "how could I not? you practically have that song on repeat, every morning."

"uh huh" you respond, not really believing his words. a smirk on your face. "I'm growing on you."

he doesn't want to admit it, but he's definitely whipped for you. to be completely honest, you were starting to grow on him, way before the two of you started dating. two weeks after getting to know each other, he tends to come to watch you dance and teach the kids. the songs you play weren't really kicking it to his taste, he would typically scrunch his nose in disgust and ask someone to turn it off if he ever heard that in public.

but it's you. how could he ever say no to your taste in music? besides, Mario and Mariah Carey have some freaking good tracks. something he would keep from his bandmates though, he doesn't want them to make fun of him.

and the kids would also kick his ass if he ever made a bad comment about Mario.

"guilty" he chuckles with his hands up in the air. "guess we're growing on each other, huh, sweetcheeks?"

"i guess so." you interlock your hand with his, staring at each other in comfortable silence while Jill Scott's discography softly fills up the room. "I hope you're not getting tired of it, yet."

again, he nods his head in disagreement, positioning himself on top of you causing the heavy duvet to uncover your bare chest. hard nipples pressing against his warm body.

as he leans down to kiss your sweet lips, he finds himself falling for you all over again. just like the first time he ever kissed you that night. he used to be so unfamiliar with the feeling you give him, he used to hate the feeling of thousand butterflies in his stomach when someone gets too close to him. since he knew it wouldn't last long.

all that changed when he met you. deep down in his soul, he knows that everything is going to be okay. and that those soft lips of yours are going to be the only lips he will kiss for the rest of his life, and he's okay with that.

because man... you make his body tremble harder than being in a black sabbath concert.

"that won't be happening anytime soon. because I'm planning to marry you one day, baby."

don't you just want to rip your hair out of your follicles because you're so freaking single? because yeah.

masterlist

like, reblog and comment please n thank you!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson blurbs

272 notes · View notes

milkmily · 2 years

Text

Kiss and meet [Eddie Munson]

Eddie Munson x Latina/Hispanic Chubby Reader

Eddie has been thinking about you scene the party. He thought sneaking you out would be an amazing idea. So he threw rocks at your window and couldn't wait to take you out. You two have fun and then he invites you to meet his club members.

YOU ALL WERE SO SWEET IN THE LAST ONE 😭 THANK YOU SO MUCH!!

Back <- | Next ->(coming soon)

Your family from your dad's sids was over at your house. You didn't talk to them much other than greeting them and answering some questions they asked. You mostly spend the time in your room. But now that they know you dropped out of college, for sure they were going to talk about you behind your back.

Your parents were alright with you dropping out. They did react badly but they saw it was your life and just brushed it off. You knew they were still disappointed that you dropped, but at least you have a nice job that helps you pay rent and food.

But you weren't worried about them talking behind you. You were rather excited today! Eddie asked you out and you are sneaking out. Your parents don't like you going out while there are guests around. So the best thing to do is to sneak out. It's not like it's the first time you've ever sneaked out.

You walked down stairs and grabbed a glass of water. "I'm going to bed early. Good night." You say and everyone says goodnight. You stopped halfway to the stairs and listened and watched their conversation. "Well, Analilia is in college and she's almost going to graduate! She's going to get an amazing job." One of your aunts says. "And [Name] dropped out only to work at a horrible job." She says. "Yes, but it's her decision." Your mom says, sounding annoyed.

"I bet her excuse was stupid too. I mean, she isn't even married! If she doesn't want to go to school, she at least has to get married." Your aunt says and your father's eyes go wide. "Mi hija tuvo una buena excusa. Y no andes hablando de mi niña así. Si sigues así, por favor, salgan de nuestra casa." Your dad says. Your aunt nods and apologizes. You knew she would, she doesn't even live in Hawkins. Your uncle wanted to visit because he and your dad get along well.

You couldn't help but smile and walk up the stairs quietly. You locked the door to your room and started to prepare yourself. You grab a bunch of clothes out of your closet till you find the perfect one. Once you were done with that, you did your makeup and soon added some perfume.

You hear something hit your window and you smile knowing who was out. You opened your window and saw the long haired man. You grabbed your bag and threw it at him. He catches it and then sees you climb out of your window. "Wowo! Hold it!" He says and drops your bag. He prepares for when you could fall. You successfully landed with no injuries.

"Eddie!" You say, wrap your arms around and kiss his cheek and the other. "Okay! Let's go then!" You say as you walk to his car. Eddie touched his cheek and smiles like an idiot in love(which he very much is). He followed and got in his car. "Alright, you ready?"

"Yup! Let's go!" You say and he starts the car and goes. You weren't really talking much and he could see you were a little upset.

"I told my friends about you." He says. You raise your eyebrows and look at him then back to the window. "You better have said something nice about me." You say and Eddie smiles. "I did and they absolutely love you. Dustin wants to meet you." He says. "He also said he wants to go to a party with me too because it sounded cool." You chuckled and said, "Well lucky for him, there will be a party in 2 weeks."

"Another one?"

"Yup! And you will be dancing with me this time. Mom had you all day last time." He chuckled as he remembered how your mom had him moving all day. "I'll gladly dance with you and show you how well I dance to Mexican songs." You laughed and Eddie melted. He loves making you laugh. You locked hands with Eddie and say, "Thank you."

"For what?" He asks as he tries to keep looking at the road. He was for sure going crazy right now.

"Making me feel better. Family from my dad's side were talking shit about me."

"The same aunt from the party?"

"No, from my dad's side." You say and hold tightly on to his hand. "They are here because my dad and uncle get along and are throwing a small party. Just family." You say. "But you can come over."

"When is it?"

"Like in 2 days."

"I can't, I have something to do." He says. He had a meeting with his club. He'd love to go! He enjoyed the last party and he for sure would love this one. But he had to go to play D&D. "Can I go with you?" You say and lay your head on his arm.

"W-With me?"

"Yes. I have nothing to do there. All there will be is chisme and drunk uncles and aunts."

"Where I am going is to play D&D." He said and you smiled. "Perfect! I can meet everyone! I'll probably bring everyone something to eat." You say. "Also where are we going?"

"We are almost there." He says and soon goes into the woods. You smiled and knew where he was taking you. "Lover lake?"

"I mean, we can look at the stars and probably just, you know, know more about each other." He says and bites his bottom lip, in hopes of you liking the idea. "It sounds way better than being taken to a restaurant."

"Oh thank God. I was going to take us to a record store or a restaurant." He says and parks his car. "Ohh, the record store is actually a really cool place. It will be our 4th date then." You say as you hop out of the car. Eddie was so in love with you. This man would do anything for you.

Eddie gets out of the car and locks the door. He opens the truck and gets out two brown bags and a blanket. "¿Y qué es eso?" You ask, pointing at the brown bags. "No clue what you said, but I'm guessing what these are." He says as he holds the bags up. "This will be our very fancy dinner." He says and hands them to you.

"With our very fancy and fine soda drinks." You giggled at him and nodded. "Alright Mr. Fancy guy. Let's go on our fancy date." You say as he closes the back and walks with you. "Sooo, what were you studying In college?" He asks. Eddie is actually really curious about what you studied. He also wants to know why you dropped out and what made you come back to Indiana. Also your favorite artist and he wants to learn a bit of Spanish cuz it sounds really romantic to him.

"Well, I studied to be a lawyer. But I saw that I had to study and study even if I graduated. So that was my first reason. The second one was money. I couldn't afford it so I left California and moved back to Indiana with my parents." You say.

"What about you?" You ask. "Oh, well… um, I haven't graduated." He says and finds the perfect spot for you two. He lays the blanket down and sits down. He puts a drink down and pats down, making you sit down.

"But I am for sure going to graduate this year!" He says as he sips his soda. "I'm sure you will." You say as you hand him the bags. "I'll even help you with your homework."

"Really?"

"I already passed through that. I'm sure I can do this." You say and look in the bag. "You got tacos?"

"Yeah, I really liked the ones at the party so I decided to get some for us." He says. "But I didn't really understand what he was saying so I got us like 4 different meats." He says and holds out to places. You get out the two others and smile. "Aww, Eddie." You get closer to him and kiss his cheek. "That's really sweet of you."

Eddie rolled his eyes with a smile on his face and said, "Stop, I'm blushing." You laughed and grabbed your soda. "Let's eat then!"

You grabbed your plate and unwrapped the tinfoil around it. "Also, they gave me like 5 small cups of salsas. And half of them were opened." He says as he holds out the ones that survived. "Thank you Mi amor." You say. As Eddie stops himself from eating his taco and looks at you. "You called me what?"

"Mi amor?"

"W-What does that mean?" He says as he has a smile on his face. "I think you already know with that stupid sweet smile in your face." You say and Eddie looks away. "Probably, probably not. Need to confirm if it is what I think it is?" You rolled your eyes and chuckled. "It's my love."

"Aww stop! I'm so red right now." You laughed and shook your head. "Oh I am sorry my lady. It's just I love seeing your blush." Eddie smiles and eats his food. "So, um, how's life?"

"It's good. Haven't sneaked out in a long time. So let's hope I don't get my ass whooped."

"You still get hit by your parents?" Eddie asks, concerned. "Umm, yeah? If you live under their roof, and by their I mean my parents, you must follow the rules."

"Aren't you like 20?"

"Yes, but I live under their roof." Eddie just nods. You two continue to talk and laugh. Eddie tries repeating Spanish words that were probably bad words you told him to say. He always asks if it means good or bad and you say good. But to never use them on your parents. That just confirms their bad. But he still says them to get you to laugh.

You two are now lying on the blanket and watching the stars. Eddie really isn't because he's just looking at you. You are the only one looking at the stars. "Hey, what time is it?" You ask. "It's…" Eddie checks his watch and says, "it's 12:30."

"Shit!" You sit up and get your belongings. "We need to go!" You say and Eddie gets up. He tries to help you get up, but decline nicely and get up yourself. You two get in his car and took off. "I am so sorry Eddie. But I don't want to get in trouble." You sat. "Don't worry, you are all good." He says and holds your hand. You hold his hand and calm down. "I had lots of fun today." You say. "I was hoping you were going to like it." He says. You two soon get to your house but he passes by it and parks his car. "How are you getting in?" He asks and gets out. You get out and say, "My brother left a latter where my window is." You say and you two walk to your place. You sneak behind the house and Eddie just follows you.

"Well, my stop is here." You say and Eddie sees the latter. "Holy shit, he actually left it there."

"He likes you. So he put it there. He used to not leave it there if he didn't like a guy I dated. " he just nods and you get close to him. "I actually had lots of fun. I'm excited to meet your friends." You say and tilt your head to the side and smile. "T-Thats good." He says and gulps. "They will love you."

"I hope so." You say and cup his cheeks. You get closer to his face and soon, you two almost touched lips when you stopped. He was scared you could hear his heart. But he kind of wanted you to hear just to show how crazy in love he is for you. You gave him some time to pull away but Eddie just pushed you in and kissed you. You kiss him back and wrap your arms around him. You pulled from the kiss and smiled. "See you later, Eddie."

"Yeah, see you later [Name]." You go up the latter and Eddie sees you get in. You waved at him and closed the window. Eddie whispers a small 'yes!' And jumps. He runs away and goes to his car. Eddie goes in his car and laughs. He hides his face with his hands and giggles.

Ohhh how he was going to tell the guys what happened and for sure they were going to be jealous.

"Don't believe you." Mike says. "Seriously?" Eddie says and Mike shrugs. "You say all of this but haven't even introduced her."

"I literally told you guys about her, the food they gave at the party, and her family last time." Eddie says and he hears Gareth hum. "I mean, we really can't believe you if we haven't met her." Gareth says. The rest nodded except for Dustin. "You all really think I can't date people?"

"I believe you do." Dustin says. "And I'd like to meet her." He says. "And you will! In two days!"

"That's when we play!" Mike says. "And she's coming over! We talked about it." Eddie says. He crossed his arms and closed his eyes. They really think he can't pull?

He groans and says, "She's coming in two days. She says she is bringing you all something. So be kind!" They all nod and Dustin does a little cheer.

"But isn't that the day we play?" Mike questioned and Eddie nods. "Yes, and she would like to see us play?" Mile rolled his eyes. "Can't she come another day?"

"Nope, it's already planned."

"I am so nervous." You say as you check yourself in the small mirror. You fixed your hair and checked your earrings.

"Calm down. They will like you. Plus, they are kids." Eddie says and parks the car in front of the school.

"Yes, but a good first impression is very important, Eddie. Plus, they trust you and I want them to trust me too." You say as you hold on to the regtengal tray. "You think they like sweet stuff too?" You ask. "We will see." He says and signs. He holds your hand and kisses it. "Everything will go well. Trust me. Dustin absolutely loves you." He says and he sees you smile. "There is that smile." He says and kisses your cheek.

"Ya parale." You say and you feel your ears get hot. "Okay, how do I look?" You ask as you look at him. "So fucking gorgeous." He says and you giggled. "Stop or I'm going to kiss you again."

"Oh, I'd love that." He moves your hair behind your ear and looks at your lips. You look at him and get close. "HEY! YOU TWO COMING OR ARE JUST STAYING THERE TO MAKE OUT?" You pushed Eddie away and looked behind him. There was a boy with a cap on. He had the same shirt that Eddie had. His eyes go wide and smiles. He waves at you and you smile at him. "Hello!!" You heard him say and you giggled. "He's so adorable." You say. You get out of the car while holding the tray.

The boy runs up to you and waves. "Hi! I'm Dustin!"

"You're Dustin! Eddie has told me about you?"

"Really?" You nodded and his smile went wider. "Hahaha! Nice! What did you get there?" He asks as he points at the tray. "Um, it's Flan." He gives you a puzzled look. "It's cream caramel." He tilted his head to the side and shook your head. "When we are inside, you can get a slice." Dustin nods and walks inside. "Let's go then." Eddie says and holds the tray for you. "Dustin is like a huge fan of yours." He says as he walks beside you.

"I can tell. He seemed really excited to see me." You two head to his club classroom and hear Dustin. "She's here! She even brought something called a flan? I honestly don't know what it is but she says it's sweet." He says and they just nod. "How much did he pay you?" Mike asks.

"Ouch, a little offended you guys don't think I'm real." They all look at each other and their eyes go wide as they see you. "That's her! That's [Name]!" Dustin says. "And she brought us flan."

Eddie walks in and points at an empty chair. You sit on it and look around. It was all decorated on theme and even Eddie had a chair that looked like it belonged to a king. "So, um, how long have you been together?" Mike asks. "I guess 4 weeks?" You say and Eddie nods. Eddie is just so happy and lucky to have you. He feels like the luckiest man alive right now. Eddie is just looking at you the whole time while the rest ask you questions about yourself.

"Eddie says you speak Spanish, say someone in spanish." Dustin says. "What do you want me to say?" You ask and he thinks for some minutes. "Anything really."

"Si eso dices." Dustin is impressed and tries copying what you say. Mike tries correcting him but he also fails at it. "What does that even mean?" Mike asks. "If you say so." He nods and says, "Can we have a piece?"

"Go ahead. I brought it for a reason." Mike is first to go and then the rest. Soon, they start their game while you eat your flan and giggle whenever they do their acting parts. It was honestly fun being with them. Soon the game came to an end.

You all said goodbye as you went with Eddie and drove off to your house. "What did I tell you? They loved you!"

"Thank God, I was so worried that they would hate me."

"They would never. You are so sweet. How could someone hate you?" You chuckled and shook your head. "Stop being so sweet Eddie."

"I'm telling the truth!" He says and you giggled. "Hey, so I got you something." Eddie says as he parks his car. He looks behind and gets out a bag. "I remember you said you liked, um I honestly don't know how to pronounce their name but here." He says and hands you a cassette tape. You screamed when you saw the cover. "Holy shit! You got me [F/Spanish artist from the 80s]!" You grabbed his collar shirt and pulled him into a quick kiss.

"Thank you so much. Fuck, I owe you for this."

"N-No! You're good!" He says. "Seriously, thank you so fucking much Eddie. God I love you for this." You put it in your bag and held his hand. You kissed it and looked at him. Eddie smiles and starts driving again. "So, the party. When is it again?"

"In two weeks. It's my cousin's quinsañera." You say and Eddie just nods. "What should I bring as a gift?" He asks. "Well, you can bring makeup or clothes. Anything girly you know?"

"I suck at that. You'll have to come with me to go shopping." You smiled and nodded. "Alright then. I'll be helping you. I need to get her something too." You say and lay your head on his shoulder. You closed your eyes and smiled. You seriously loved this man so much. He's always so kind to you and so loving.

You felt the car stop and opened your eyes. You look at Eddie and smile. Eddie was bright red and you laughed. "Well, I'll see you later. Take care amor." You kiss his cheek and get off. He watches you get inside your house and drives off.

He giggles and thinks, 'hehehe she called me love'

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x chubby reader #eddie munson x hispanic chubby reader #x latina reader #eddie munson x chubby latina reader

323 notes · View notes

cherubkeery · 2 years

Text

Something About You

Chapter one

Eddie Munson x Latina Reader

{a/n: this character is going to be Mexican American.}

Eddie loved watching you from a distance. You had your own little clique at school. You tended to stay with the same three girls from your grade. But you stuck out to him the most. Something about you just drove him crazy. He’d only ever had the chance to speak to you a couple of times. Mainly for help on assignments or a question. You were really smart, something he admired about you. But you also frightened him. He never felt frightened by anyone. But somehow you did.

You were like sunshine, and he felt inadequate next to you. You were everything he wasn’t. So he tried to stay away from you. But he couldn’t help the little crush that was growing. He loved watching you, but god forbid you caught him staring.

He would look away so fast and tried to act as if he wasn’t just staring. He would look over at his friends and start a performance. As he always did. Trying to distract from his redden cheeks.

Soon enough though, his friends caught on to the crush he had on you. You would walk by them with your friends. His eyes trailing on you only. The teasing was brutal. Usually it would be the other way around. But now, he couldn’t hear the end of it.

“Awww, look Eddie. It’s your girlfriend.” Mike would joke. Earning him a laugh from the rest of the group. Eddie would shake his head.

“Dude, she can literally hear you.” Eddie said with a warning tone in his voice.

To you, it was the cutest thing ever. You pretended at times to not hear them. Just to mess with Eddie a bit. He had no idea what you thought of him and it freaked him out.

“I say you talk to her. You never know.” Dustin mentioned one day. Eddie looked at him like he was crazy. Mike nodded along as he ate the school lunch.

Eddie stared at you from where he sat, he knew there was no way in hell. You were going to speak to him.

.•° ✿ °•.

“Mirada, the gringo is staring at you.” Your friend Mikaela said, a laugh on her lips.

“Cállate.” You said in annoyance. You rarely ever spoke Spanish with anyone at school. So when you met Mikaela. You felt more at ease with knowing you didn’t have to only speak English. Your other friend Lily wasn’t Latina. She was as white as anyone from Hawkins come.

“What are you guys talking about?” Lily asked, her eyes filled with curiosity. You both were teaching her a bit of Spanish to help her understand the two of you. But she struggled with it at times.

Mikaela moved her head towards Eddie’s direction. A smile crept on Lilys face.

“Wait? Doesn’t that mean I’m a gringa.”

You and Mikaela burst out laughing.

.•° ✿ °•.

Eddie remembered the first time hearing you speak Spanish. It perked his attention immediately. He never heard you speak it before. Which then gave Dustin a really brilliant idea.

“I could ask her for help with my Latin work. Then sneak in a conversation about you and-”

“I don’t know man. What if she says no.” Eddie said, he was staring at you. The way you smiled at your friends, you seemed like the kindest person ever.

“Highly doubt it, I already asked.”

Eddie looked back at Dustin, his eyes wide.

“You what?!”

#eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie munson

267 notes · View notes

sad-brunnettee · 2 years

Note

first of all, i love you?????? like i just recently found your blog and oh my god????? HISPANIC READER????? as a fellow Mexican it makes me so happy :’). i’ve had this idea in the back of my mind for a hot minute now but like, hispanic! reader teaching Eddie how to dance bachata (any latin rhythm for that matter) or the two of them dancing at a family reunion while Eddie is super flustered cause he’s not a big dancer himself but you’re there to help him out. LIKE IMAGINE HER FAMILY JUST BEING LIKE “ay estos dos van a terminar casados” y se ponen en plan tipo “que empalagosos son” HSKKSKSKS sorry for the Spanglish, sometimes my brain doesn’t work properly

Ily too!!😩💓I think we all need to thank the first anon who requested a Hispanic/latina/Mexican reader. I would’ve never thought many people would read it. I hope you enjoy it :).

Au in which Eddie survived

Bachata Rosa

Eddie Munson x Hispanic! gn! Reader

—

Eddie couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way your body moves to the rhythm of the music that is playing from your small radio. He could stare at you for hours just watching you, he’s positive that if he were to try it he’d end up making a fool out of himself. Although you wouldn’t tell him that, instead you’d praise him saying ‘good job babe, you’re getting better’ or ‘you’ll soon be better than me’.

He sat on a chair that was placed in front of your garage as you and your cousins practiced dancing for you aunt’s wedding. It wasn’t that you needed to practice dancing it was more of an excuse to hang out and get to know him better.

“Eddie, are you a good dancer?” Your cousin, Cassandra asked.

He was so fixated on you that he didn’t notice the music had stopped. “Do I, w-what?” He stuttered as specks of pink found their way on his face.

It was followed by a chorus of ‘ooh’s as some of your cousins elbowed each other. You stood near the cooler filled with ice and drinks with a blush splattered across your own cheeks. It wasn’t hard for anyone to understand why Eddie didn’t pay attention. You will be getting teased for it endlessly.

“I asked if you were a good dancer.” She said with a small laugh.

“Oh no I uh… I don’t dance.” He answered truthfully as he fidgeted with his fingers.

Gasps were heard which made him feel out of place. He loves music, that much is clear but it isn’t one to dance to. It’s not that he doesn’t want to learn, he just never got the chance.

“Y/n, i can’t believe you never taught your boyfriend to dance.” Your younger cousin exclaimed.

“The opportunity just never came up, I didn’t want to force it on him.” It was true, whenever your favorite song played through your Walkman all you could think about was dancing to it with Eddie. Yet you always kept those thoughts to yourself, Eddie isn’t one to do cliché things. Yet it doesn’t bother you, there isn’t anything about him that you would change. Not even when you had to ask him out to prom back in your senior year of high school. He was reluctant at first but gave in after a while, even then, he didn’t fully danced. Simply moved his arms to the rhythm and attempted to get his feet to follow yours.

Luckily, nobody added more to the conversation. Instead you talked about what outfit to wear for the wedding and when will you guys arrive. You were now sitting next to Eddie as he played with your hair you tried to pay attention to the conversation. But the more he played with your hair, the more sleepy you got. It was late afternoon and the sunset painted pretty colors on the sky. Signaling the end of the day and a reminder that everyone will leave to their own houses.

It was now nine and Eddie was the last person that had to leave. The two of you were now sitting on the small green couch that was placed in your living room. The rest of your family was either in their rooms or in the kitchen, allowing the two of you privacy to talk about anything and nothing at the same time.

A comfortable silence accompanied you both until Eddie spoke up. “You know you could uh, teach me some of those dance moves you were doing earlier.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before answering, “Ed, we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No I- I want to. Wouldn’t want you to not have a dancing partner during the wedding.” He replied with a toothy grin as he leaned towards you as he spoke.

“Well, the wedding is in two weeks. I could teach you the basics…if you want.” You said as you looked into his eyes that held so much joy.

“Alright, tomorrow me and you baby. We’ll get grooving.” He said as he stood up.

“Nobody says that anymore Ed.” You laughed as you also stood up.

“Sure they do. Ok tomorrow, after practice, I’ll come down and you could uh teach me… the basics.” He was now standing next to the doorway with his left hand holding the door knob.

“I’ll be waiting.” You said with a smile. He also gave you one as well while opening the door. He got out and turned to look back at you, neither one moved. Just wanting to spend as much time together as you could. Despite that, he leaned down to give your cheek a kiss.

“Goodnight sweetheart.”

“Goodnight Eddie.”

—

Practice was running longer than usual and it was all because of a certain curly headed who kept on getting distracted and wouldn’t hit the notes at the right time.

“Dude come on Eddie, this the third time that we have to start all over.” Gareth exclaimed as he hit his drumsticks together to show his annoyance. “If we keep this up I’ll be late for dinner, and you don’t want to see my mom angry.”

If it were any other day he wouldn’t want to mess with the master of dungeons. But today was a normal day and he didn’t have to worry about it.

“Sorry, guys sorry it’s just…ugh I’m so excited. I’m going over to y/n’s house and they’ll teach me some dance moves for their aunts weddings. I’ve never danced with anyone… I feel, ecstatic.”

After hearing his confession they all felt their scowls leave their face.

“Wait, I thought you said you danced with them back at prom…?” Jeff asked

“No… well I mean yeah. Sorta. It was more of me moving my arms…” he said as he moved them for emphasis. “…and I tried to move to the rhythm but most of the time I just stood by watching them have fun.” He couldn’t help but sigh, at the end of the party you told him it was fun yet he felt as if you were lying. It didn’t make sense how you could say you had fun with him if he didn’t dance with you, not the way you deserved at least.

“So are you just going to…keep them waiting?” The other band mate asked.

Shit, he didn’t think about it that way. What if you thought he forgot? Or that he chickened out? You knew by now about just short attentions spasm and you always were very understanding of it but what if now it’ll be different? What if you want to break-

“Go to them Eddie, we can practice another day.” Jeff spoke once more.

Without needing to hear anything else Eddie took off running to his van. He was in such a rush that he didn’t notice his guitar still attached to him. Carefully, he lifted it up and set in on the back of the van. It was his most prized possession and he didn’t want any scratches on it. He drove a little past the speed limit (he didn’t want to get in a car crash or for you to see him driving this fast and scold him for it). It wasn’t until he reached your neighborhood that he saw you open the garage that he let out a sigh of relief and slowed down the van.

“Sorry sweetheart, I would’ve came sooner but… practice ran longer than usual.” He jogged towards you to help you lift up the garage door.

“Don’t worry Eddie, I was helping my mom around the house. My brothers didn’t bother helping so we finished not so long ago.” You responded with a shrug of your shoulders as you set down the radio on the small table that was taking up space near the wall.

“You ready?” You asked as you stood next to him.

“Yeah, let’s do it.” He exclaimed with a fist in the air. Even if he attempted to sound confident, his body language told you otherwise. He kept on bouncing his leg and chewing on his lip.

“Eddie I don’t want you to feel like… I’m forcing this on you, if you don’t want-.” You started speaking as you went to stand in front of him and place a hand on his shoulder. Something that you often did when he was nervous.

“No, no no I want to. I really do… I-I want to learn more about your culture.” He spoke with sincerity as he clasped his hands on your face.

Smiling, you looked up at him as you placed your own hands on top of his. “Ok then, let’s do it.” You took a step back and turned on your radio, landing on Juan Luis Guerra’s new song, Bachata Rosa.

As the two of you spend the day dancing and laughing, Eddie felt as if he was falling for you all over again. He tried to focus but each time you looked at him with so much affection he just got lost in your eyes. Causing him to stumble or step on you.

Days passed by and there was one day left for the wedding. You were proud to admit that you were a pretty good dance teacher. It was hard at first, but Eddie no longer needed you to tell him what to do. He still makes jokes about how sexual the dance is and the way you move against him. You can still hear his voice “Jesus H. Christ babe, I’m trying to dance not…mate with you.” Hearing him say those words caused you to turn red and miss a couple of steps.

“Is Eddie ready for the wedding?” It was the first thing your mom had asked you as you woke up.

“Yeah, he got the steps down.” You said as you walked up to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“How do you think your dad will react?” She asked as she handed you a plate for you to serve yourself some chilaquiles.

The question caught you off guard, that you didn’t think of. “He’ll probably get really mad.” You chuckled softly, “let’s hope he’s drunk when and if he decides to dance in front of everyone.”

The conversation changed shortly after but your mind kept on playing different scenarios in your head. Regarding your family’s reaction, especially your dad’s and brother’s.

—

It was now the day of the wedding, everything was perfect. Eddie was able to go to the church ceremony earlier that day. You could tell he felt a little out of place, it was his first time going to a proper one. But you stayed by his side and held his hand, it helped to calm him down although he could still feel your dad glaring holes on his head.

The venue was spacious, a clear sign that there will be a lot of guests. Your mom was the one who chose the table, claiming that she wanted one with the best centerpiece. One that either you or your siblings will be forced to take.

As family members came to the venue, you would all get up and greet them. Using this as an opportunity to introduce Eddie to them. Your younger cousins seem to love him, they thought his clothing was cool as well as his tattoos. Whatever worries Eddie had prior to this seemed to have vanished into thin air. The food was fantastic and the music was great as well.

The DJ played some songs in Spanish and English, allowing everyone the opportunity to dance. Eddie even got dragged by some of your aunts to dance with them, some danced English songs while others did merengue. It wasn’t until bachata started playing that all of the couples got up and walked over to the dance floor.

“May I have this dance?.” Eddie spoke as he held out his hand for you to take. He had a toothy grin on his face and you just knew he was excited to show everyone the dance moves you taught him weeks prior.

You took his hand and walked over to the dance floor. The two of you started to dance at arms length before gradually getting closer. As the two of you moved to the rhythm it felt as if the whole world had disappeared. The both of you attempted to not get too close, not wanting to make any family members uncomfortable. After giving you a few spins he pulled you once more closer to him to place a chaste kiss on your cheek.

“You’ll have to translate me the song later and…teach me a new dance.” He spoke softly against your ear.

“If you keep this up, you’ll be the future chambelán for Sara’s quinceañera.” You told him with a giggle.

“Lisa hasn’t thrown the bouquet yet but we already know who will be getting married next. Right Enrique?” Your aunt exclaimed happily to your dad.

“No, they’re never getting married.” He replied while chugging the rest of his beer.

“Ojalá se casen pronto, uno nunca sabe cuándo será mi ultimo día.” Your grandma spoke as she watched you on the dance floor.

“¡Mamá, no diga eso!” Your dad said but aside from his voice sounding mad, he pulled her to a side hug. As much as he pretended to hate the idea of you forming your own family. His heart swelled with joy as he saw how happy Eddie made you.

🏷: @hellomyweirdos @lubsana @satsuri3su @n39ro-chann @kenzi-woycehoski

#sad-brunnettee #stranger things #eddie munson x latina!reader #eddie munson x female reader #Eddie Munson x Hispanic! reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #request

199 notes · View notes

reallifemutant · 2 years

Text

Lil Eddie Drabble x Sick Reader

Summary: you’re sick and Eddie’s taking care of you (takes place after season 4 where Eddie better make it out 😤)

Warnings: throwing up, sickness, language, roommates, relationship trauma (slight in relation to Steve)

I personally feel like death rn so here’s how I would imagine Eddie in a situation similar to mine!!

You didn’t know what went wrong but something was obviously wrong. It could’ve been what you ate at that Mexican restaurant last night or maybe you just picked out a bad watermelon. Whatever it was you were facing the repercussions while leaning over your toilet. After hurling your guts you made the executive decision to call Steve and tell him that you couldn’t come to work.

“Steve hi yeah I’m like nonstop throwing up and I think me and the bathroom floor are molecularly bonded together.”

“What? What did you eat?” Steve asks utterly confused. You were perfectly fine like one hour ago.

“I don’t know man. It just like sneak attacked me out of the blue. I’m just gonna go lay back down. Tell Eddie I’m at home but to not come over if this is a stomach bug I know damn well none of you want it.”

“Alright alright are you sure you don’t need anything? Have you had water? Tried food?”

“No Steve I’m good I’m just gonna go chill and hope that this nausea goes away by the grace of god.”

“Okay just call me if you need me I can always send Dustin to come check on you.”

“Really Steve the child sacrifice? Okay bye I am definitely .2 seconds from throwing up BYE”

You stumbled the short distance from the landline to the bathroom floor as you tried desperately to keep everything in.

‘Maybe I just need some goldfish yeah maybe a little food will fix this.’

You crawled back into your room on all fours to grab the box of goldfish you kept on the nightstand for emergency reasons. Slowly you began to nibble on the salty little buggers and felt mild relief filling your aching body. While time was passing what seemed to be agonizingly slow for you, it was quite the busy day at Family Video. Robin had rolled in from after school bringing with her Steve’s beloved children. And seemingly not much after their arrival none other than Eddie Munson and his van skidded across the parking lot.

“They’re not here Munson.” Steve says as soon as Eddie bursts through the door eyes wide frantically looking for you.

“Huh? What … what do you mean ‘not here?’ They’ve never missed a day all year.” Eddie breathlessly asks.

“They’re back at home sick. They said to tell you not to come over just in case it’s a bug. Personally I was going to sacrifice Dustin to make sure they’re alive but eh. You’re their partner it’s not like you’d listen to me anyway. Here’s the key don’t fuck anything up while you’re there Munson.” Steve warned.

After the events of last summer you moved in with Steve. Your family was moving but you simply couldn’t leave Hawkins behind and you’re glad you didn’t because you would’ve never met Eddie Munson. Eddie and Steve didn’t exactly get along great. Steve says it has something to do with the ‘look in his eye when he tried to cut him with that bottle’ back in March. You chalked it up to Steve just being incredibly protective of everyone. Since you and Steve became roommates you both have grown very close becoming almost like siblings. Steve was one of your closest friends and you wouldn’t have it any other way, but he could treat Eddie a tiny bit better.

Steve didn’t exactly trust Eddie in a relationship context, and given his backstory he doesn’t really trust anyone in that context. So, Steve allowing Eddie to have a key to the house was huge. Quite a big step for their friendship you might even say. But at the time you were too consumed with the thoughts of nausea to even put together that someone was home. Eddie didn’t know what to expect since he had never seen you sick but he certainly did not expect to find you lying face down on the bathroom floor surrounded by goldfish.

“Hey how’ve you been? Well I mean I know you’re sick but uh here’s some ginger ale I picked it up at the gas station on the way back. Why don’t we try to go somewhere that’s well not the bathroom floor?” Eddie said as he basically peeled you off the floor, gently of course.

“Oh no oh no no no I’m gonna - ” you say as you dramatically flop back down towards the toilet head inside expelling all the goldfish progress you had made.

“Okay nope floor it is.” Eddie said while gently patting your back.

You slumped down, flushing the toilet, back against the wall looking absolutely spent. You don’t even remember the number of times you’ve thrown up today. It seems that the only thing you know is the feeling of gut wrenching nausea. Eddie squats down next to you with a damp cloth wiping your face down.

Even though you definitely look like a goblin that just crawled out from underneath a dark bridge, Eddie’s beautiful brown eyes beheld you as the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. He couldn’t understand how someone could still be so perfect even while they’re hurling their guts. His heart ached knowing that you were absolutely miserable and he went to grab you some water to sip on.

“Here this might help. Just sip it okay don’t like down it or anything too wild. Oh and here’s the ginger ale but definitely take it slow. Do you think you could make it back to your bed? I think that’ll help you and it will definitely be more comfortable than the floor babe.

“Just try to get up a little at a time, don’t rush anything, and if you need me just yell okay?” You weakly nodded as Eddie finished his little speech as you slowly began to lift yourself up.

Eddie was already running around the house like a madman clearing a path for you, finding an empty trash can to put by your bed, getting you drinks, and making your bed up so you could just lay on top.

You smiled to yourself thinking about how much this man possibly loves you to be doing all this. You knew you were an absolute goner, totally head over heels for Eddie and you would definitely let him know the second you make it to that bed. You were moving so slow, slower than time was passing for you, to try and trick your stomach into believing it was still. You might be slightly delusional due to the illness but hey it was a working. You reached your bed and slowly laid down on your back looking over at your beautiful partner who was fussing over you.

“Eddie Munson I love you so so sooooo much.” You stated.

“I love you too and I’d kiss you but personally I don’t think I want whatever this is,” he gestured to your body, “We might have taken on Inter-dimensional monsters with each other but I draw the line at illness babe.” He said while gingerly kissing your forehead.

“Whatever just get over here but like don’t touch me you’re like a space heater and I will projectile vomit on you if I get overheated.” You said while patting the spot next to you. Eddie quickly changed into a pair of sweatpants, one of many from his comfy clothes stash in your drawers. He crawled into bed and propped himself up on one elbow looking at you lovingly.

“You know I never thought I’d be the one taking care of you. No seriously my immune system sucks. But I’m glad Steve gave me the key to come watch you.” Eddie said.

“STEVE WHAT,” you yelled turning towards him, “okay I immediately regret that decision. Steve have you a key? Oh Eddie that’s big. Like he definitely doesn’t have anything against you anymore-not that he uh did in the first place just protective you know.”

“Trust me I know. I’m really glad he decided to send me as the sacrifice instead of Dustin. It just feels right being the one to fret over and take care of you. I just i love you so much and I know you’re feeling really shitty right now but I’m here and I’m prepared to be the best nurse ever.” Eddie grins down at you.

“Why thank you nurse Eddie,” you gushed, “I think I’m going to try to get some sleep I just feel like I’ve been sent through the ringer. I really love you Eddie and thank you for taking care of me.” You looked up at him with all the love you could muster without feeling like you’re gonna yak in his face.

“Go to sleep you’re definitely going to need it sweetheart. I’ll be right here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere.” Eddie’s soft eyes and perfect grin calm your tired body and mind.

Slowly you feel the clutches of restorative sleep grasp you all while Eddie is softly humming and rubbing circles on your hand.

A/N: if this sucks it’s because I came up with this quite literally while face down on my bathroom floor lmao so pls be kind. Anyway just a little thing for not writing in a while so pls enjoy!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things #steve harrington

141 notes · View notes

queenimmadolla · 9 months

Note

I think ur right. I have yet to see an actual eddie x mexican reader. Im mexican american as well as native american and i really want to add some parts with mexican cusine. Thats as far mexican as id get. Maybe no so much the language but i do appreciate the input. Ive started the prologue and ch 1 both not finished. Ive never written anything before so i am nervous. Ive put too much thought into it as well as further chs and an ending to not post. So wether its for me or others to enjoy ive decided to post it when anyway. Im too old (38) to care what people think and at this point in my life im just gunna do what makes me happy and if thats not your jam cool sorry i wasted your time lol. But im here for a good time so lets hang out for a bit ya know. Lol. Sorry if this is everywhere ive had a bit of tequila and ya guurl is feeling gooooood. ☺️☺️

Oh my goodness, I’m so excited to read it!!!

Especially the cuisine! I think we can all agree Eddie Munson would not survive a Serrano pepper, I think salsa verde would be too spicy for him 💀

Good luck, you’ve already got quite a few people eager for the day you post it!

#$ replies

14 notes · View notes

sidthedollface2 · 9 months

Text

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Mexican Female Reader

Summary: Eddie tries to win over your affection and use you in hopes of getting signed to your dads record company. Theres just one problem. Your situationship and a heartbreaking past that threatens to expose the darker side of you.

Warnings: 18+ for crime related themes, angst, mental illness, death and eventual smut.

Authors note: Hi 👋 this is my first fic ever. I don't know what im doing so 🤷‍♀️. We're here for a good time not a long time so just hang out and enjoy.

Prologue

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie fanfic #eddie fic #mexican american

94 notes · View notes

coffee-prince-kyungsoo · 2 years

Text

My Monarch Butterfly (1/?)

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

warnings: None

word count: 1.7K

summary: Eddie and reader just chatting, jason being an asshole and robin and reader talkin. Not much :)

(Gif not mine- Credits to owner @gaiath )

AN: I hope you guys enjoy the first part of this story, I don't normally write alot of FF but I couldn't help myself with Eddie Munson existing. Have you seen this man. If you like it, let me know! If you have any recs on what should happen next, be my guest to comment about it! hope you enjoy the first part!!!!

Masterlist | Part 1| Part 2 | Part 3 |Part 4

Hawkins high, the most agitating place for anyone who wasn’t a popular cheerleader or basketball player was a breeding ground for the socialites to chat, bond, and even date. HHS had its little clicks and groups. You had the cheerleaders who didn’t really care for anyone outside their little friend groups, which quite frankly was getting pretty old. And of course, you had the jocks. Who quite frankly were the most annoying and obnoxious out of all the groups. Y/N on the hand was one of the only people who didn’t belong to a single group, always floating to different groups. She was what everyone called a kind soul. It didn’t matter who needed help it was always Y/N to reach out and help people. If not, others would approach the timid girl. For her it wasn’t always this easy. Being a Mexican was something that caused a lot of bullying growing up. She always lived in Hawkins but attended a school near Hawkins due to her mother being a 4th grade teacher. Her father had passed away due to cancer when she was only five. She didn’t really remember much of him but had little snippets of him and even dreamed of him. She would cry at times when she thought of her father. Because she couldn’t tell which of her memories was simply that or a dream, they all seemed to blend in. But it mostly sucked for her mother. Her mom Amanda went through a phase where she would barely speak or eat. At eleven, Y/N took care of her mother. They had been living off her dad’s life insurance for the time being after her mom was fired due to not showing up or being completely disinterested when teaching. This all stopped when a family friend got into an argument with Amanda, because of this argument, Amanda had gotten her act together. She applied to different school around their area. After multiple rejections, her last interview she was desperate that she spoke nothing but the truth. Y/N, her child was the reason she needed this job and that she needed to get her life back. The school accepted her on the spot, principal Howards understood her struggles and gave her a chance. That was in sixth grade. Now a senior and just turning eighteen she was able to finally able to semi relax, aside from final exams and deciding to stay in Hawkins or going to college.

“Y/N! Levántate por favor! ¡Se te va a hacer tarde! I won’t drop you off this time if you’re late! I swear to sweet baby Jesus you won’t being going to the mall this weekend if that’s the case! Y/N!”

“Ya voy! I’m brushing my teeth!”

“No me conteste así! Apúrate”

The door slammed shut as Y/N’s mom rushed to her car, her engine could be heard throughout the whole street.

“Jesus, she needs a goddamn exorcist.” Y/N giggled as she was packing up her things getting ready to head out the door.

“I didn’t even answer in a bad way, she wasn’t even gonna hear me in the bathroom with that loud ass vent, right Leo.” Y/N rubbed her cat’s fur and gave him a peck in-between his green eyes. To which he purred.

As she started to bike her way to school, she listened to some classical music. It was something she did know her dad loved; he would often put her to sleep with some Vivaldi, his all time favorite. She was pushed with a gust of wind from a van barreling towards the prison that kept most of Hawkins for four years. It was a hard world. The van was blaring black sabbath, she knew all too well who drove the van, Eddie Munson. She wasn’t going to lie; she did have a small crush on him since middle school. But always pushed those fantasies to the back of her mind due to the age and grade gap. Now it changed when Eddie was help back not once, but twice. She would sometimes dream of him, both being in an embrace or just simply enjoying each other’s company. But she was just being silly.

Eddie was drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, simply enjoying his alone time before being berated in the halls of Hawkins high. It didn’t bother him anymore but still, who wanted to hear insults being thrown at them early in the morning. As he was speeding through the almost empty roads, he spotted Y/N on her bicycle with her Walkman. As he sped, he looked at her through the rearview mirror, she had a little smile. Seemed like she was enjoying her alone time as well. Eddie would always see her in the halls. She was always so quiet, seemed to never be late to any class, never spoke in class unless someone asked for help, or if the teacher needed her to answer a problem on the board. Eddie had always thought she was cute. He would never admit it, but he did. Growing up he would see her around the town. He knew her dad passed away. He felt sorry, he knew what it was like to not have your father present. He at least had his uncle Wayne, his father figure, but from what he knew, she didn’t.

You didn’t know when you got on school grounds. You guess it was just muscle memory and the lack of attention you pay when you’re on your way to school. As you got off and started to walk to the bike rack you noticed smoke coming out of Eddie’s car, which wasn’t parked far from where the staff stood. You don’t know how you were able to keep your heart from coming out of your chest but some how you did, it was a complete mystery to you. Three knocks on Eddie’s van window was all it took for Eddie to acknowledge you.

“Hi, just wanted to let you know that the staff is out today and it’s pretty clear that you’re smoking. Just a little heads up.” After a little pause Eddie smiled in your direction. With the number of butterflies fluttering in your body you were surprised you didn’t float off.

“Thanks Y/N, can’t have any write-ups before graduation, can I?” With a simple nod, you walked off to your first class.

“Thanks Y/N, can’t have any write-ups...” God, that was the best I could come up with. Jesus Eds.”

Eddie mocked his response as he lowered his head on the steering wheel. Eddie had gotten his things ready and walked off to class before the first bell.

Eddie walked into his first class of the day, one of the only classes he didn’t have with Y/N.

“Thank you for joining us this fine morning Munson.” Sighed Ms. Wilks.

“Of course your grace, my chariot seemed to be on the slow side today.” Eddie bowed with his arm extended out.

“Obviously, have you seen the piece of junk you drive you freak.”

“Jason…. How does it feel to touch balls all day?”

“Boys enough, or the both of you will stay for detention, Munson to your seat.”

The room seemed to be filled with snickers after the little scene both boys caused.

“Please turn to pag-“

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Johnson wanted me to hand you these papers Ms. Wilks.” Y/N softly spoke after knocking and interrupting Wilks.

“Thank you, can you please set them down in the basket at the back of class please. Okay class, turn to page 36 of the work book and answer..”

As Ms. Wilks continued to give instructions Y/N walked to the back of class to drop the papers in the basket, the basket that was right behind Eddie.

“Hi Y/N, guess today’s your lucky day, you get to see a whole lot of me.”

Y/N lowered her head down and let out a soft giggle.

“Pay attention Eddie, can’t have you getting any write-ups, can we?”

Eddie continued to watch her as she did what she was told. Not aware of a certain pair of eyes looking at the whole interaction.

“Munson, pay attention.”

“Yup no issue Wilks.”

‘Oh my lord baby Jesus, his smile is to die for!’ was all you could think! As you made your way out the class and headed back to your own lecture a small wave made its way to Eddie. The boy couldn’t help but let out a wide grin. You swear on everything you love that this crush was something but puppy love, you didn’t think he could be interested in you, there was no way.

“Thank you for leaving the papers Y/N”

“It’s really nothing sir.” You made your way back to your seat, next to the only person in the school who you could consider to be your only friend. Robin.

“You look…. I don’t know, you just look like you’re happy, but also in a deep thought. Care to share?”

“It’s Eddie, recently we’ve been crossing paths and talking more frequently. For example, when we were at the market, he just came up and started talking to me. We stayed in the same two isles for over an hour, I guess my butterflies are acting up. It’s stupid but- it’s nothing, it’s not like he could be interested in me. Truly I’m just speaking out of craziness.”

“Well, my sweet little sugar plum, you never know. I mean when was the last time anyone was ever approached to have a friendly conversation with Munson, aside from being recruited into hellfire. I’m not gonna say he likes you; I don’t want you to get over excited over something just for me to be wrong, you know? But it doesn’t hurt to keep talking to him.”

“I know, but knowing me, I’ll start to get over attached and get my heart broken over something that would never happen. Plus, maybe he just needs a friend. Not saying his other friends are bad but- I don’t know. I just hate how everyone is so mean to him. He doesn’t deserve that. No one does. Maybe Jason and his pack of idiots and their rude girlfriends, but still, I just wish they weren’t so mean to him. He’s really sweet, well from when we were talking.”

These little heart to hearts was something normal between you two. It was a good thing this was the only time robin knew how to whisper without having the whole class listen in to the whole conversation. It was easy for Y/N but maybe she’ll learn to be outspoken, it was all Robin tried to do after being in a friendship with this girl for years.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x mexican reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction

123 notes · View notes

dreamyquinn · 1 year

Text

Día de Muertos

Día de Muertos (Day of the Dead)

Eddie Munson x Mexican fem!reader

Summary: It's November 1st and your neighbor and best friend shows up at your house only to find the strangest thing he's ever seen.

Warnings: Nothing really, maybe mentions of death, readers mom has passed away. Vague immigration mentions. Mentions of drugs, Some words in Spanish. Mostly fluff and a sad attempt at comedy. A bit educational on the holiday. English is not my first language so it may have some grammar errors. Sorry! Let me know if I forgot something.

A/N: This is a fragment of a way longer fanfic I'm working on that may or may not be included but because the day that I am posting is actually Day of the Dead I wanted to share this quick fic inspired by the holiday. I am Mexican an I wanted to take charge of the Latinas trope that love Eddie and firmly believe he would totally be into us. I haven't seen any other fic that is focused on that type of character so here's my shot.

------------------------------------------------------------

Your eyes squinted at the soft light of the sun peaking through your blinds. You heard some fuss coming from the kitchen on your way to the bathroom which continued while you were doing your thing.

Your dad was muttering gibberish as if he was looking for something, then you heard the heavy flush of water running from the faucet and your dad swearing. You finished quickly, washed your hands and hurried up to help your struggling father but as you approached the kitchen, a very distinct smell filled up your nostrils. It was a heavily perfumed scent, earthy and energizing, the peculiar memories coming to your head as you saw them.

Several bouquets of fresh yellow and orange marigolds rested on the dining table making your heart jump and a wide smile grew on your face.

“Oh! Good morning, hija” your dad said, still struggling with a vase, his belly soaked in water and holding another bouquet. He smiled at your reaction to the flowers.

“Where did you get them?” you asked, getting closer to the ones on the table burying your face in the blossoms and once more you sniffed deeply to experience that wonderful delight.

“I was sure I wasn’t going to find any around here but your brother told me there was a flower store not far outside town so I went to check. These were all they had, so I had to get them all for her”

Your heart warmed up at his last statement and went to give him a tight hug, not caring if your pajamas got wet too.

“Here, let me help you out” you said animatedly, taking the vase and the bouquet from his hands.

Together you cut the long stems, removed the dead leaves and set little bouquets in the few vases you had. You needed a lot but only had four so you used whatever else you could find in the kitchen like bottles and jars you had around. Soon the entire living room had flowers everywhere and the smell had intensified, filling the entire trailer with the scent.

Your brother came home almost as you were finishing up cleaning and he had brought a large box with other things.

“Took me a while but I found mostly everything” he said, laying his purchases on the table. Colorful tissue paper, candles, oranges, candy, sarape fabric, ingredients for particular dishes and incense. You knew right away what was the plan for that day, you were building an altar.

After your brother showed you everything and explained he had been all around town gathering things he immediately delegated tasks to everyone. He would take over the kitchen duties, your dad would be in charge of moving stuff around the living room to make space to build the altar and as the artistic one you were designing the layout.

While all of you were working like the freaking seven dwarves, singing songs in the background, a loud knock broke the animosity of the family moment.

You got up to open the door where you found Eddie’s fluffy curls framing his usual smile as he walked in without asking as if he also lived there.

Eddie was always welcomed at your house and he felt comfortable there. Your trailer wasn’t as messy as his, you seemed to have your shit together and there was definitely a sense of family and togetherness he never got to experience. A proper caring father and an older brother with whom to share a few things. Your dad at first wasn’t too trusting of him, not because of his looks or for what the rest of the town said about him but because as an immigrant he had learned to trust no one at all.

But Eddie had gained his favor, after showing how much he took care of you. He became your very first friend when you arrived at Hawkins a few months ago, he drove you to and from school a lot of the time, he helped you to get by around town, always brought you home on time if you were out at a party and respected curfew times when you hung out at his trailer.

Of course you both had been careful to not get caught in your little irresponsible adventures like smoking weed, getting wasted at the hideout when your dad and your brother worked the night shifts at the lab, or the occasional sleepovers where nothing beyond the occasional cuddle happened but you were sure that if your father found out he could probably pin Eddie down despite being significantly shorter than the boy.

As soon as you closed the door behind him his smile dropped at the sight of what was going on.

In the middle of the living room your dad had gathered three tables at different levels arranged as a ladder, and had a white tablecloth on them as a base. A lot of the flower vases and jars were placed on the different levels forming a frame, some blossoms were pinned to the wall to form an arch above the highest level of the altar.

“Okay, what is going on here Y/N?” he asked suspiciously with wide eyes looking around. He sniffed and probably the scent of the flowers was too much for him as he had most likely never experienced it.

“You got here just in time” you said with excitement. “Welcome to your very first Dia de Muertos”

“What?”

“Day of the Dead, silly” you translated and he turned like an owl to look at you, visibly unsure of what you were talking about.

“It’s a Mexican tradition, Eds” your brother said as he opened up the oven to check on the bread he was baking, a rich, doughy and orangey smell reaching you.

“What is that?” Eddie asked now curiously with his brown eyes shining at what your brother was pulling out the baking tray, looking like an excited puppy.

“Okay, okay, I think you gotta sit down first while we explain it to you, wanna help?” you offered.

The holiday had some roots since the Aztec empire existed which were later combined with European influences of Spanish tradition during the conquest. You didn’t dive deep into detail on the history but you did cover the essence of the celebration. It was the time of the year in which the souls of your loved ones come back to visit you and the altar or ofrenda is a place where they can come to gather and be remembered, a moment to pay respects and honor them.

You explained to him the meaning of some of the elements included in the altar. The marigolds fill the air with a pure smell, their color represents the sun, a festive symbol which makes this a celebration more than a mourn. Lose petals form a path from the main entrance of the home to the altar as a guide for the souls. Water is placed to give rest and relieve their thirst to the souls after the long journey back home. Salt and the white tablecloth represent purity, so that the loved one’s soul is not corrupted and is able to travel among the living and the dead world. Candles also represent the light that calls them home.

Eddie’s face was fascinated with everything, he thought it was pretty metal of Mexcian culture to celebrate death like that. You had asked him to rip out the marigold petals from a bouquet so you could make the pathway and he had been unexpectedly gentle with them which made you realize that behind that rough exterior of his hands he knew how to be delicate, after all he was a skilled guitarist.

“So, how do you say it again?” Eddie asked as he focused on a blossom.

“What?” you asked as focused as him.

“The flower’s name, in spanish?”

“Oh! It’s Cempasúchil”

“Cempa… cem… cempachills…” he struggled

“Cem-pa-su-chil” you repeated slowly trying to contain a laugh at his furrowed brow.

“Cem-pu-chill…” he tried again clearly frustrated as you let a laugh out loud “Oh Jesus H Christ I give up, I’m butchering the language”

“You’re a musician! Use that musical ear” you said playfully.

“Nah, forget it. I’m now more interested in that good smellin’ thing your bro has over there” he asked, his mouth almost drooling while your brother sprinkled the golden buns with sugar.

“That’s ‘pan de muerto’ or bread of the dead, don’t worry hungry boy you’ll have some” you assured.

“Yeah it’s made with the ashes of your loved one” your brother said in such a convincing voice that Eddie was about to say “Really?” when he saw your snarky smile.

You then gave him the colored tissue paper and showed him how to make papel picado, sheets of tissue with cut out designs that looked like little banners. You first folded the sheet several times to form a small square and then cut out shapes from each side and then showed him the best part came when you unfolded the tissue to reveal the final pattern. Eddie let himself lose with it and shortly he had a bunch already piled next to him.

“Ha! I win” he said, setting the scissors down looking at you with pride.

Once you were done with yours he helped you out to hang them across the ceiling of the trailer with the help of a string.

As time went by the altar was getting filled with all the necessary elements you had been able to come by. Each level had sarape fabric spread across, candles, fruit, the flowers and you added a few cross figures.

Your dad had disappeared a while ago in his room but was now coming back and you noticed that he had his eyes slightly red.

“Now comes the most important element” he said, lifting proudly a beautifully decorated box that he placed on the dining table. He brought out a few framed pictures, clearly from different moments in time but with one protagonist in all of them: Your mother.

He slowly approached the altar and placed them within the lower two levels. They had moments with both you and your brother as newborns, as toddlers, as teens, your parents wedding, family trips and some of her on her own. Then he stepped back and brought the biggest frame which held a picture of your mom on her own holding the flowers she got for her birthday. That picture had her purest smile.

Both you and your dad stood there and were joined by your brother, the three of you had a shared silence, pride and melancholy filling your chests.

Eddie simply observed from the dining table and felt a clench on his throat that he suppressed by coughing but unintentionally broke you and your family’s trance.

“I’m sorry” he said when your brother went back to his chores in the kitchen.

“Don’t worry, Eds, that’s the whole purpose, remember? Honoring your loved ones” your dad said, going back to the box and pulling our other items. Their wedding rings, a little doll he had given her, her favorite record, other accessories, her notebook where she kept her favorite verses, letters and other trinkets she loved. All spread around the altar.

As your brother finished the meals he was making he passed you some other bowls with your mom’s favorite candy and cans with her favorite drink.

“I’m assuming you added those because she liked them?” Eddie asked and you nodded.

“It is said that if the foods lose their flavor by the next morning after the celebration it means they ate it” you said mischievously.

“Have you ever experienced something like that? Have you seen them?”

“Well, we never had an altar before, we hadn’t lost anyone close to us. I only did this at school and generally you’d bring a picture of a loved one or if you didn’t have any you could choose a famous person to honor”

“Who did you pick?” Eddie asked curiously

“Jimmi Hendrix”

“Rock on!” he said, lifting the horns sign with his hand.

“Right?”

“They made her change it because he was a drug addict, so she picked a historical figure” your brother said, making you roll your eyes.

“Against my will, but I left Jimi’s picture on the frame behind the other dude. He was there” you reassured and Eddie laughed.

All four of you stood again in front of your hard work. It was simple but bright and colorful, however something made you drop your shoulders and Eddie noticed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked

“Dad, there’s no sugar skulls”

“They’re not like, super necessary” your brother refuted “I looked but nobody makes them around here” he added in defeat.

“We have her picture and that’s all that matters” your dad assured.

“What are they?” Eddie inquired, still confused.

“Back at home, there’s these human skull figures made of sugar and decorated with colorful sugar patterns and flowers, sometimes they add glitter or other embellishments. They’re fun, hard as hell to eat, but they’re an iconic symbol of the celebration.”

“This thing gets better and better each time”

“And, and it’s tradition that you can give them away as gifts that day, and you can write your name on the forehead of it, it doesn't matter if you’re still alive” you explained.

“But we don’t have them here in boring Hawkins, yeah?”

“Nope” you replied defeated “C’mon, let’s eat before they leave”

The four of you sat together on the table and had a marvelous dinner of mole, a traditional dish of chicken covered in a sauce made with different types of peppers, spices like cumin, cinnamon, nuts and cacao. Rice as a side.

Eddie wasn’t used to these kinds of wholesome meals so he felt like he could devour the entire thing in three single bites but kept control of himself to not embarrass you in front of your dad. He still stuffed his mouth on each bite, charmingly dripping some of the sauce by the corner of his mouth.

Your brother never minded your cooking, he thought you had a decent touch but he made sure to show off how things should be done. You appreciated what he did because he got the closest to how your mom used to do it.

Once they were done, they packed some leftovers to take to work with their respective buns of pan de muerto and wished Eddie a good evening when your father and brother left for work.

You hoped that Eddie would’ve stayed but suddenly said he remembered he had something else to do and would try to come by later if he could. With a little disappointment you still packed him some leftovers as well with another container for Wayne. Eddie ruffled the hair on top of your head playfully before leaving.

You spent the next couple of hours cleaning around the mess in the kitchen and tidying up the living room so everything could be set by midnight. You also decided to dress up nicely, so you hopped in the shower, treated yourself with a facemask and afterwards you did your hair and put on a purple dress that matched perfectly with a black sweater you had buried in your closet.

That sweater still had some hints of the peculiar perfume of your mom, you even noticed a couple of hairs still woven within the fabric, which reminded you of her beautiful curls. You also put on a flower crown you made with some leftover marigold blossoms.

You decided to take a minute to also do an extravagant makeup, traditional for the celebration. You painted your face with some leftover halloween makeup, tracing details and flowers around your eyes, cheeks and also added the distinguished elements of a skull, the nose, the sockets and the teeth. You also had some sticker earrings that looked like jewels so you popped those on.

As you were almost finished it was around ten when someone knocked on the door. You were on your way to check who it was but Eddie had come in as always. He looked at you and stopped suddenly at the sight of you. He was surprised at first but then he felt fascinated at the artwork you had done on your face.

“Wow, what's that?” he said taking it all in, lost in every detail.

“This is a ‘Catrina’ face makeup. It’s another icon like the sugar skulls. The Catrina is a character illustrated by an artist, Jose Guadalupe Posada, but it was originally a satire to the upper class of the time. It is now a symbol of the holiday and mixes the paint patterns on the sugar skulls. Some people do this, they dress up”

“Looks pretty” he said looking at your eyes for a brief second “pretty cool, I mean” he corrected with a chuckle breaking the stare.

You noticed he had brought a big plastic bag and his tin box.

“What’s in there?” you asked as you leaned over the reflection of the window to finish applying some of the sticker earrings on your face.

“Oh, I uh… I brought something that maybe could be up there at the altar” he said coyly and that spiked your curiosity so you approached him when he dropped the contents of the bag on the table, revealing small skulls painted with different colors that you were sure he had just made because the strokes of paint seemed rushed. Some of them had dots, others stripes, one had attempts of hearts, another had flowers.

“I don’t know what sugar skulls look like so I just painted them with the same colors as the little flags we hung up. I know it's not the same but I figured maybe they could work, I had these skulls from that one time Wayne and I decorated the house”

You didn’t say anything as you grabbed one and looked around at the details, your heart feeling warm. A smirk forming on your lips.

“I also did this one, here” he said, getting a big purple one with stars that looked a bit more worked on. “I put your name on it. Also did these for your Dad, your bro and if your don’t mind I have one for me and one for Wayne”

“These are amazing, Eddie. Thank you” you said and closed the gap between you giving him a hug. When you pulled apart you shared a look and went to put them up in place.

Afterwards Eddie didn’t seem to take his eyes off you, mesmerized by the paint on your face so he asked if he could have his face painted because he wanted to match with you. You got excited at his interest and immediately sat him down, bringing your makeup bag and started to paint away. This was quite the moment between you two. You were pretty close to his face, his sharp features relaxed at the touch of your brushes, his soft breathing bringing you some sort of peace. Of course every now and then you would catch him staring at you, directly to your eyes. He found it cute that you lifted your right eyebrow each time you focused on what you were doing. You were done pretty quick and as he looked at himself in the mirror he smiled big and complimented your work.

“We look great” he reassured as you both stared at your own reflections in the bathroom.

“Hold on” you said running to your bedroom to get your camera and taking photos of Eddie then an attempt at taking one shot together. You would have to ask Jonathan for those prints later and he would be so confused.

You then went to the living room where you started to lit up the candles and incense. You brought some bread and hot chocolate so you could sit on the couch and wait for midnight. The time when the spirits actually arrive. Eddie enjoyed his third bun of the day and drinked half of his cup while the two of you curled under a blanket sitting on the couch, talking about random things.

He eventually turned quiet and distracted as you were babbling about something unimportant.

“Y/N?” he finally interrupted you.

“Yeah?”

“So uh… I brought something else” he said as he stood up and went to get his lunchbox.

“Oh Eddie, I don’t think I’ll be smoking now, I don’t want my mom to see me doing it, she’ll drag me around by my feet to scare the habit out of me” you said and he giggled but you noticed that the joke wasn’t appropriate.

“Don’t worry, I’m not smoking either. I just wanted to ask… I know this altar is for your mom and I don’t wanna steal her thunder but, do you think there’s a little space for her?” he said and he pulled a decayed photo of a woman with a baby in her arms. She had big brown eyes, a soft smile, she had very pretty curls tied in a very voluminous updo. On the back there was a scribble “Eddie and Me, Indianapolis 1968” Your heart felt for him and his shy stare.

Eddie had mentioned her mom only once just to say that she was gone. You knew more about his dad, because he had ranted about him about four or five times and you never dared to ask anything about either of them. You didn’t feel you were there yet and it was a matter that only concerned him.

Without wasting any second you carefully grabbed the photo and looked around the bookshelf for a frame that could fit and once you swapped the pictures you set some space right next to your mom on the top level. Eddie didn’t move because while you did all that he was trying to contain the knot that was trying to explode on his chest.

“Here” you said, grabbing one of the skulls he made that had flowers, and you also passed him a marker.

“You do it, you have better handwriting. It’s Amelia” he instructed softly and so you did your best calligraphy to write her name elegantly on the skull’s forehead and then put it next to her picture.

You decided to turn off the lights and let the numerous candles set a soft mood.You went back to the couch and under the blanket again, you were hugging your knees and he had his arms crossed on his chest. You silently admired your hard work of the day and the altar looked prettier than ever, the lights of the candles really giving a spiritual vibe around all the elements and colors. It smelled rich of many things, the flowers, some of the candles, sugar and the spice of the incense. Both of you had remained in a comfortable silence until Eddie broke it.

“I don’t think I’m ready to tell you about her. But I wanted to thank you for letting her be there” he said in the most serious tone he had ever used.

“It’s alright, Eds. Whenever you feel like it” you reassured and another long pause took place.

“Do you really think they come over?” he asked as casually as he could but unable to hide some hopefulness. You looked at him and he looked back at you.

There was a mutual reading between your gazes. You understood a few things from that: he had loved his mom tremendously, he also missed her and he trusted you enough to let you read that from his eyes, a boy trying to have faith.

“I hope so” you responded, picturing in your head both of them coming in together through the door and up to the altar where their children would be waiting. You felt the knot in your throat starting to form, Eddie’s apple going up and down and a glimpse of watery eyes.

None of you had broken eye contact, the longest you had spent like that ever, the soft warm light caressing your faces, both chests breathing a bit faster, you could hear your heart pounding in your ears, his lips parted slightly as you felt a force starting to pull you in and just as he had looked at yours, inches away from you, the flicker of a few candles blew off giving you both a jump scare that interrupted the moment, leaving you in more darkness. You both looked at the altar and only the candles next to your mothers were out. For a brief second you both felt chills down your spine, Eddie had uncrossed his arms and you let down your legs.

It didn’t matter if it could be explained scientifically, in your heart you wanted to believe.

“They’re here” you said looking back at Eddie who was mixed between wanting to let go of his emotions and smile at the same time. He then took your shaky hand and held it but surprised you by intertwining your fingers with his as he squeezed tight, calming you down. You felt peace, you felt comfort, mutual company, mutual grief. But wait, were you about to?...You let out a sigh to shake that thought away, resting your head on his shoulder, staying quiet for the remainder of night. Both of you let some thin tears stream down your face until you fell asleep.

That night you dreamt of your mom and Eddie dreamt of his.

⚛ Feliz Día de Muertos! ⚛

#eddie x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #day of the dead #dia de muertos #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x femreader

48 notes · View notes