#this is ed I might be bringing him home

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[livwritesstuff]

Steve is home one day with his daughters when he realizes that his oldest, Moe, is ten.

Okay, obviously, he knew she was ten. She’s been ten for a while, as her birthday is in July and it’s now December, and the girls are discussing Christmas as they perceive it in their little girl worlds.

It’s really that Steve realizes that Moe is the same age Erica had been when he’d asked her to climb through air ducts and infiltrate a Russian military base.

It’s a realization that has Steve feeling a little nauseous, because Moe is ten and she’s plotting with her little sisters about how they’re going to stay awake on Christmas Eve to catch a glimpse of Santa (their conspiring has Steve worried for his and Ed’s own role in Christmas Eve and the way it hinges on the girls falling asleep as early as fucking possible), and she’d lost another baby tooth this morning and hasn’t stopped talking about what the tooth fairy might leave for her overnight, and she still sneaks into his and Eddie’s room after nightmares looking for snuggles, and she’s afraid of car washes and bugs, and she still wants to be read to before bed every night.

He’d been struck suddenly by how little Moe still is. Maybe he’s only thinking that because she’s his daughter – his first daughter, at that – but he still looks at that kid’s face and sees the newborn baby who’d made him a dad ten years ago.

He can’t imagine looking at her and seeing someone equipped to take on Erica had been asked to do, never mind actually asking her to do it, which is precisely what Steve had done twenty-five years ago.

It eats at him for the rest of the day.

“Just call her, Steve,” Eddie urges him after Steve brings it up for the sixth time that evening, “You clearly need to air this shit out.”

So Steve calls Erica.

Erica is in her mid-thirties now. She’s a kick-ass lawyer at a private firm in Indiana, and she picks up the phone on the second ring.

“This is Erica,” she says.

“Hey, it’s Steve.”

“What’s up,” she replies, still never one for beating around the bush.

“I just – I need to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For Scoops,” Steve says, “For Starcourt.”

Erica is silent for a while.

None of them really talk about any of that stuff anymore. They’d hashed everything out ages ago, until all that was left behind was the understanding that none of them would ever be able to truly move past it, that there would always be guilt and fear and pain they could never shake.

“Okay?” she finally says, question in her tone.

“I just…” Steve hesitates, “Look – I didn’t get it. I didn’t fully get how fucked up it was. I was the grown up in the situation and I should have put a stop to it but I was stupid and reckless, and now that Moe is ten, I can’t stop thinking about how insane it was for us to even consider roping you into that.”

“I agreed to it.”

“You were a kid.”

“You were a kid,” Erica insists.

“Eighteen isn’t a kid anymore.”

“Say that to me again when Moe’s eighteen and maybe I’ll believe you.”

Steve doesn't have anything to say to that, because Erica is probably right (though only time will tell, he supposes). Their phone call ends only a few minutes later with Erica telling him to go easy on himself and Steve saying he’d try before apologizing one more time.

“You gonna take her advice?” Eddie asks after he’s pulled a begrudging Steve into his arms.

“No,” he tells him, curling into his husband’s side and sticking his nose in Eddie’s neck so he doesn’t have to look him in the eye.

“Figures.”

[reysdriver]

Hi! This is the first time that I ask for a request so I’m sorry if I’m doing it wrong!

Can you please write a [Eddie Munson+”You’re drunk, you don’t mean that” (Angst prompt 13)+ Your dating him! And your at a party with him and he gets SUPER drunk, you try and tell him that he has had enough alcohol and that is time to go home. He ignores you but you keep telling him that over and over again. At one point he tells you to stop, he tells you really hurtful things. Like he tells you that he hates you and that your always so clingy. The ending is up to you]

I hope you can write it! Thank you!!

(I just read your prompt list and this is definitely not going to be my last request, HAHAHAHAHA sorry in advance)

You and Eddie get into a fight after you convince him to skip a date and go to your friend Steve's party instead — eddie x fem!reader angst

warnings: angst, verbal fighting, fighting in public, alcohol (but no drunk driving here), underage drinking

words: 1.7k

a/n: I'm sorry this took me so long to get to, and that I changed the fight a little bit but I still hope you like it and want to send more requests in the future because I do like this a lot!

Hawkins’ own King Steve Harrington knew how to throw a party; Christmas, Halloween, New Year’s Eve, or even just a random night when his parents weren’t home like today. 

You and Eddie were actually supposed to see a movie and then just spend the night just lounging about in his trailer, but you had convinced him that the two of you should ditch the movie and spend some time visiting Steve and checking out his little get together. 

As reluctant as he was, he would never reject an opportunity for free alcohol and time with you, so he agreed that you would both go for a little bit. 

Eddie picked you up, the two of you had fast food in his van, and then he drove you down to Steve’s neighbourhood. He insisted on parking about a block down—as if there was any space available on Steve’s street—as his van is a common target for vandalism by a lot of the jocks at school who commonly frequent the parties held at the Harrington household. 

As always, he got out of the car before you and told you to stay seated so he could open your door for you with an exaggerated bow like you were a princess arriving at the ball in your carriage. 

Once he ushered you out of the carriage, you began walking towards Steve’s house, following the trail of cars parked by teenagers who haven’t yet mastered parallel parking. 

“Alright, just a drink or two, we’ll say hi to all your friends, and then we leave, right?” Eddie asked, confirming the plan you had loosely made before. 

“Yeah.” You said. “But, I mean, if we feel like we’re having fun, there’s no harm in skipping out on our other plans and staying here instead.”

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “No one really has fun at these things. Everyone’s just pretending so they can fit in with the crowd of people who are also pretending. It’s fucked.”

“Whatever you say, babe.” As you approached the Harrington house doors, you gave Eddie a last-minute reminder. “But, just for the night, it might be nice to pretend you’re having a good time too.”

The two of you walked through the door and into the crowd of fellow teenagers, and you knew Eddie would have said something snarky if it weren’t for Steve spotting you immediately and calling your name loudly and happily. 

“I didn’t think you were coming! Do you want a drink?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” You nodded, then turned to your boyfriend. “Eds, you want one too?” 

“Absolutely. There’s no way I’m getting through this thing sober.”

Before you could say anything in response to that, Steve laughed loudly—clearly already buzzed—and announced that he would bring you and Eddie a cup each. 

You were about to take your boyfriend’s hand and follow Steve to get the drinks he was currently pouring, but one of your friends squealed your name from across the room, catching your attention. 

“Go, you came here to have fun with friends.” Eddie told you. “I’ll get the drinks and find you soon.” 

You smiled at him and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, Eds. You’re too sweet.” Then, you squeezed his hand quickly before trying to find your friend again in this crowd of drunken high schoolers. 

Time flies when you’re having fun. You hadn’t even noticed the time passing while you were chatting and dancing with your friends, or how you hadn’t even had a single drink because you haven’t seen Eddie since you parted ways with him all night. 

As soon as you really noticed, you excused yourself away from your friends and started looking around the room for Eddie. You couldn’t find him in the living room where you were, but when you saw his dark curls in the backyard by the window, you wormed your way out of the crowd and started walking towards him. 

“Eddie!” You called, but he didn’t turn around even though you were definitely within earshot. 

He just kept walking, trudging towards the beer keg where Steve was currently keeping up with his keg stand record. You finally caught up with your boyfriend and you tapped his shoulder to get his attention. 

“Hey, stranger, where have you been all night?” You asked him, your cheeriness masking the involuntary scrunch of your face at his potent stench of cheap beer and fruit punch spiked with expensive vodka. 

He turned around, but you were shocked at how he was missing the smile he had on last time you saw him, and how it was instead replaced with a tired frown you can’t recall him ever using on you. 

“Are you okay, Eds?”

He brushed off your concern. “I’m fine.” 

He was clearly lying to you, but you were choosing to think it was just because he was drunk or because you were in a very public space. 

“You don’t seem fine.” You told him. “Come on, we can find somewhere private to talk if—”

“I don’t wanna talk. I’m having fun here; isn’t that what you wanted?”

You were taken aback. He had never kept such a biting tone with you, and you weren’t sure where it was coming from. 

“Eddie, maybe we should go home now.” 

“No.”

“Eddie, you’ve had a bit too much to drink.” Your voice was as firm as you could get it despite wanting to cry in front of all these people. “It’s time to go home.” 

“You’re impossible!” He was starting to raise his voice, and suddenly you felt like there were a million sets of eyes on you. “You drag me here, leave with your friends, and then when I actually find a way to have fun, you want to drag me away! I can’t stand you, and I definitely don’t want to go hone with you right now! So either get me another drink or get the hell away from me.”

Your heart sank like the anchor of a cruise ship. It hurt to even look at your boyfriend, so you looked around you for something to fix your gaze onto while you tried to gather your feelings. There were fewer people than you had imagined looking at you—most were one drink away from blackout drunk and couldn’t care less about this altercation—but there were still far too many for your liking. 

You just wanted to get out of here more than anything. You wanted to leave when you noticed how drunk Eddie was, and your want increased tenfold since then. 

“You’re drunk. You don’t mean that, but I’ll still give you what you want and leave.” Your voice was shaking, and it was somewhat shocking that you weren’t straight-up sobbing as you spoke. “I’ll ask Steve to let you stay here overnight so you don’t drive home like this, and I can find my own ride. Goodnight, Eddie.”

And with that, you left. You went looking with Steve, who had since left his position at the beer keg. Eddie didn’t seem to care at all. 

The quest to find Steve didn’t take too long as he was just in the kitchen, but in that short amount of time, the tears that were just welling up a few seconds ago had now made their way down your face. You tried to wipe them away before you talked to your friend, but he noticed you walking towards him before you could swipe your hands across your cheeks. 

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Steve asked you, placing his hands on your upper arms. His speech was slurred but he still kept his kindness in this drunken state. 

“Eddie and I just got in a fight outside, but it’s fine. I’m just going to go home, but he’s off his face drunk, so can you let him crash here so he doesn’t drive?”

“Yeah, no problem.” He said honestly. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay here too?” 

You shook your head. “No, but thank you. The party was really fun, but I just have to leave.” 

A friend of yours was nearby and you told her you needed a ride home, and it just so happened she was ready to leave too, so it was about as perfect as it could be given the circumstances. Steve offered to walk you both down the street to your friend’s car, and you wouldn’t refuse that. 

The three of you started to walk across the house to the front door, but Eddie had apparently moved as you walked past him in the living room. And he must have had some sort of change of heart as he tried to get your attention by grabbing your hand. 

“Baby, don’t go yet.” 

You pulled his large hand off of your wrist. 

“We can talk later, when you’ve sobered up.” You told him, then turned away and kept walking away. 

He followed you, desperate to fix what happened, but Steve stopped him before he could leave the house. He stood in the middle of the doorway and held his hands on either side of the doorframe. 

“Come on, big boy, let me talk to her.” Eddie pleaded angrily. 

“After you inevitably pass out on the couch and then sober up, yeah.”

Eddie looked over Steve’s shoulder and saw you getting into the passenger seat of your friend’s car. He kept trying to bargain with Steve and push him out of the way until he saw the car you were in start driving and take off down the street. 

He cursed himself and Steve finally moved away. Eddie was about to run to his car but stopped when he took about seven steps and his head was already spinning so hard he couldn’t see anything in front of him. 

He definitely couldn’t do it tonight, but he would make it up to you as soon as he stopped seeing stars.

[roanniom]

more eddie phone sex more eddie phone sex i am screaming it from the rooftops

Not a Creature Was Stirring

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY!, phone sex / masturbation, dirty talk, light alcohol consumption, light drug use (pot), tiny bit of distance related angst, these idiots are actually pretty sweet so a lil fluffy though it’s filthy? Idk

“So what are you wearing right now?”

“Eddie I’m on the phone in my parent’s kitchen. You can’t be a perv right now,” you chide him in a whisper, but he definitely still hears the smile in your voice.

You’ve been gone for less than 10 hours and yet Eddie is already going out of his mind missing you. Since you’d only been dating for a few months, the two of you agreed that him going home with you for the holidays might be moving a little too soon. You both, however, are bitterly regretting the decision.

“Not being a perv, baby. Just trying to picture you standing there all pretty, happy to talk to me,” Eddie replies. He intends for it to sound teasing, but it comes out just as genuine as he means it. It makes your throat get a little tight.

“Wish I was talking to you in person right now instead.” Your voice is small and his heart skips a bit.

“Me too.”

“This was stupid. Can’t believe I didn’t tell you to just come with me,” you huff, twirling the phone cord around your finger in distress.

“I mean we said it was too soon for the whole meet-the-parents thing,” Eddie reminds you, but his jaw is clenched as he holds back all the things he’d wished he’d said. Like how desperately he wanted to spend this special time of year with you, and how he would have loved the chance to win over the people who you care about most.

“Yeah but we were wrong. Who says there’s a timeline set in stone for this kind of thing anyway?”

“If you weren’t so far away, I’d hop in the van right now and let you know exactly where I want us to be on the timeline,” Eddie declares, feeling bold due to the distance and the fact that you can’t see his face. You laugh, which he’d hoped you would.

“If you weren’t so far away I’d let you.” It comes out shaky. You hadn’t said much but you’d said plenty, holding back the tears that threatened to spill out of nowhere. Eddie can hear it over the phone and he aches with the need to encircle you in his arms. To make any and all bad feelings melt away. He’s desperate to hear you laugh, so he tries his best.

“You can make it up to me by touching yourself and letting me hear some pretty sounds.”

“Eddie!” you say with a hushed squeal. Your eyes dart around to make sure you’re still alone in the kitchen, though nobody would be able to hear him even if they were near.

Eddie barks a laugh.

“It was worth a shot.”

You chew on your lip and contemplate, checking the clock on the wall above the sink.

“If…if you’re still up at midnight I can…maybe call you back from my room,” you saw slowly. Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Oh honey, if it means the chance to hear your sweet voice, I won’t be the only thing up at midnight.”

~*~

You’re adorably prompt, calling him back at 12am exactly on the dot. Eddie knows because he had been staring at the clock for the last fifteen minutes, willing time to fold in on itself if it could bring him just a little closer to you.

Eddie wrenches the phone to his face, a massive smile on his lips.

“Hey Princess,” he says, nice and low. Your laughter on the other end is breathless.

“What if it hadn’t been me? What if it was Wayne calling to tell you something?”

“Wayne would survive being called Princess,” he says with a shrug you can’t see. You giggle and Eddie preens. “What has you in such a good mood in the witching hour baby?”

“It’s all you, Eds,” you confirm, keeping your voice soft because of the time. “But I did steal a bottle of wine from my cousins after I said good night and I might have had a few glasses quickly before calling you.”

“Ah, looking for a party, are you?” A thrill runs down Eddie’s spine and he sits up a little straighter in bed, reaching for a pre-rolled joint and a lighter. He’s seen you tipsy before and you’re both adorable and insatiable.

“Yeah. And I was a little nervous,” you add honestly. You’d never talked dirty over the phone before, and even though you’ve had sex with Eddie many times by now, you’re still a little self conscious. Worried you won’t say the right thing or be sexy enough for him.

“Nervous about what? That someone’ll hear? You’re in your room, right?”

“Yeah, the cord from the hall phone was long enough to reach inside here, thank god.”

“So there’s nothing to be nervous about. You’ll be quiet, like a good girl, and nobody’ll know that you’ll be touching yourself for me.”

His words go straight between your legs, turning you on even more than the anticipation for this conversation had turned you on. He hears your sharp intake of breath and feels proud. Proud that without even touching you, even from so great a distance, he can still have a physical impact. Eddie strikes his lighter and inhales deeply, breathing his joint to life and taking a good long hit.

“I’m not nervous about people hearing I’m nervous that…” you trail off and Eddie feels apprehension for the first time all night.

“Nervous that what, baby?”

You huff in frustration, words not as easy in your tipsy state while also the excitement in your veins prompts you to get over yourself and stop wasting the time you have with him.

“You so much better at the dirty talk than I am…” you try to continue but he scoffs, cutting you off.

“If you dare say you’re nervous that what you say won’t be hot enough for me, I’ll scream.” Eddie drops the lighter back on his bedside table and scooches down to recline more comfortably now that he’s confident that your concern is silly. “Not to be creepy, but you could just breathe into the receiver while I jerk off and that would be enough to get me to cum my brains out.”

You let out a startled laugh at the absurdity of the statement and Eddie feels accomplished, taking another hit.

“You’re a fucking weirdo,” you respond affectionately.

“Yeah? But I’m your fucking weirdo,” Eddie counters, letting his hand smooth down to the front of his boxers. “And your fucking weirdo is hard as a rock right now, so is there anything you want to do about that?”

“Well…” you begin, getting comfortable in your bed despite the blood pounding in your ears, making it harder to hear the rustling of Eddie’s clothes over the phone. “If I was there…I’d probably tell you to get those boxers off and out of my way.”

“How did you know I still had my boxers on?” Eddie chuckles.

“Because I can hear you touching yourself through them. And because you always like doing things the hard way.”

“So, so hard Princess,” Eddie muses, pulling them off. “Ok, I’m naked for you. Boxers off as requested, ma’am. Now I repeat the question that I asked earlier - what are you wearing right now?”

“I’m wearing your Dio shirt. The one you left at my place last week,” you whisper sheepishly. Eddie swells with pride (and something close to possessiveness).

“You’re in my shirt and I can’t even see you? That’s cruel, baby,” he pretends to be cross. “Ok my Dio shirt and what else?”

“Nothing else,” you reply.

“So if I asked you to put your hand between those pretty little legs you’d be able to tell me how wet you are for me right now real easy?”

You do as he’d mentioned, bringing your hand down to gather your waiting slick.

“I’m really wet for you right now, Eds.”

“Good. Can you rest the phone on your shoulder or the pillow or something so both your hands are free?” he asks, doing the same thing himself as you move to follow his instructions. He holding his joint up in the air while getting a glob of lotion from the bottle on his nightstand, bringing it down to slide over the shaft of his cock. It adds a smooth glide to his motions that makes him swallow a moan.

“Something I should be doing with these two free hands, handsome?” you ask. You’re really pushing yourself here, trying to be confident in spite of the nerves. Eddie appreciate it and silently vows to make it so worth your while.

“Yeah. Take one and play with that little button I love so much. And the other one…tease your nipple with it through my shirt.”

You do as he says, rubbing circles into your clit, sending ripples of pleasure to your extremities. Your other hand presses and teases at your nipple through your shirt, making it harden from the friction of the material. You hum at the feeling and Eddie chuckles.

“Good, baby?”

“Really good. But not as good as it would have been with your hands.”

“No? Well why don’t you go and put two of those fingers inside you right now. Let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”

You slide your middle and ring fingers inside your tight entrance, finding little resistance with how wet you are. Your other hand squeezed your breast more fully as you find a rhythm moving your fingers in and out of yourself.

“What about you? Are you…jerking off?” You ask shakily. You hadn’t been joking when you’d insisted he was better at dirty talk. Eddie usually talked all night long, leaving you with no obligations beyond feeling fucking incredible, moaning, and occasionally responding with a “yes! Yes!” or a “feels so good!” when prompted.

Eddie chuckles over the phone at your attempt, but the sound makes warmth spread through your body, rather than the embarrassment you’d assumed you’d feel. Apparently you’re too turned on to feel anything other than desire for him.

“Jerking off is a little crude. I’m not exactly a horny fifteen year old here, baby,” he admonished jokingly, abandoning his joint in the near by ashtray. You can hear the shick shick shick over the phone though and your stomach swoops. Of course he’s all lubed up. You know Eddie likes it wet. “I am, however, stroking my cock to the thought of your sweet pussy.”

“Oh god,” you whisper and Eddie laughs again. Your free hand abandons your tits and comes down to play with your clit as you add a third finger into your hole. Still not enough to recreate the stretch of Eddie’s fingers, let alone his cock, but still, better than nothing.

“Mmm what did you change? What’s got you moaning like that?” Eddie prompts. You feel heat spread through your body.

“I…I added another finger,” you admit and Eddie all but growls.

“That’s what I’m talking about. I know my baby likes to be stuffed full.”

“It’s not enough, Eds,” you whine then, and his heart wrenches. His instinct to give you something, more, everything hitches in his throat and he’s fucking his fist in earnest.

“Well then what will help? You got a toy there or anything that’ll feel…I don’t know, fucking more like me?” he laughs. You let out a frustrated laugh too.

“No, I don’t have a massive dildo just laying around at my parents house, Eddie.”

Eddie groans and squeezes himself even harder to stave off the urge to cum suddenly.

“Oh fuck, say more about how my dick is massive.”

“I didn’t say your dick is massive,” you say rolling your eyes, but thrusting your fingers in and out of yourself faster nonetheless. “I was talking about a dildo -,”

“I know what you meant, baby. No need to get coy with me now.” Eddie’s voice is hoarse. He’s trying his best not to cum, but something about your desperation, the sound of your voice (and if he’s being honest with himself, probably the weed), is bringing him all the way to the brink.

“Okay you’re right,” you say, finally letting go, circling your clit with abandon and bucking your hips to meet your hand, simulating what it feels like to meet Eddie’s thrusts. “Your dick is massive and perfect and I wish I was bouncing on it right now.”

Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Ah, so you’ve been picturing yourself on top?”

“You’ve been picture yourself on top?” you counter.

“Well yeah,” he admits. “But I just needed a visual, baby. I can flip us over in my head,” he adds with humor.

“No tell me what you were thinking,” you ask, you voice suddenly quieter, strained. You’re so close, desperate to cum with him. The way he wants you.

Eddie rolls so that he’s no longer on his back, his knees now digging into the mattress. He braces himself with one hand by where your head would be if you were there, his other moving furiously up and down his cock, tugging in down strokes that would have him bucking right into your pussy.

“I’m thinking about what its like when you’re under me and I fuck you so hard, every part of you jiggles. And those tits. Fuck.”

Eddie loses himself for a moment, grunting through the feeling of fucking himself. Imagining you there with him.

“You always take me so well, Princess. You’d take me so well, huh?”

“Yeah. I’d…I’d be so good for you, Eddie,” you whimper.

“I know you would be, baby. You make it so easy to just sink right in and just…fuck. Just give you everything I’ve got.” He’s so fucking close now he can feel his balls tightening, heavy and waiting.

“I-I want it,” you whine, voice cracking.

“What do you want princess? Tell me,” he commands gently. His hips are thrusting down towards the mattress now and he’s right on the edge of combusting.

“You,” you say, your voice small. Almost silent as all of your energy and focus zeros in on the tension building in your core, ready to snap. “Fuck…want you. Wanna cum. Wanna cum so bad Eddie.”

“Cum, baby. Come on and cum for me.” His tone is desperate, and the breathlessness is what has you tipping over the edge. The sound of your quiet moans, as your walls spasm and tighten around your own fingers, is what does him in. Eddie, free to be much louder alone in his trailer, cums with a deep groan that passes over the phone lines, through your ear and directly into your cunt, making your clit pulse anew beneath your frantically rubbing fingers.

“Merry fucking Christmas to me,” he finally mutters, sounding hoarse and wrecked when he finally drops onto his back on the bed, letting his softening cock fall from his grasp, spent. He hears your weak giggle over the phone and smiles.

“Hope you get everything you want for Christmas this year, Eds,” you whisper, fondness swelling inside you and evident in your voice.

“Oh Princess,” Eddie says with a chuckle, throwing an arm over his eyes and breathing deeply to help himself settle in the come down of his high. He wishes almost bitterly that you were in his arms right now, cuddling in the afterglow, but that sound of your voice on the line and the promise of your impending return keep his heart light. “I’ve already got all I could ever ask for.”

~*~

[ladylannisterxo]

Flannel and Lace

Pairings; Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Words; 1.9k

Warnings; S M U T (18+ only), unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), spanking, dirty talk, basically just porn without plot

Summary; Eddie comes home to find you wearing one of his flannel shirts, wearing only his flannel shirt.

A/N; Listen. I am obsessed with the photos going around of Joseph Quinn's costume tests but am also distraught that they put this man in a flannel and then didn't even use it! Now, I'm just absolutely feral over it - this is the end result! I am a sucker for a good flannel, especially on a very attractive man. This is just shameless smut, enjoy!

{ masterlist }

You were early; Eddie could hear you shuffling around in his room as soon as he waltzed in the front door. He had hoped he could have some time to get settled before you arrived but then again, it’s not as if he really minded, he had given you a key weeks ago for this very reason. Queen was playing, muffled behind the closed bedroom door and he smirks, knowing you’re in his room swaying your hips to the beat and pretending to be a rockstar when you think no one is looking.

He slips down the hallway quietly, sliding off his leather jacket and denim vest as he goes, hoping to catch you in the act of rocking out. He loved how you felt the music throughout your whole body, how free you always looked. But more importantly, he loved how absolutely adorable you got when you realize you’ve been caught; how your hands cover your face and you shy away from him in pure embarrassment. Because he’s the rockstar, not you. Or, at least, that’s what you always say when he catches you. Eddie desperately wants to bring you to a gig one of these days, see how you lose your inhibitions when he begins to play.

But, of course, this is not what he sees when he pushes open the door. His closet door is hanging wide open and you’re standing in the middle of the room with one of his red flannels draped over your body. And from his vantage point, this single red flannel is the only thing you’re wearing. He groans at the sight, how can he not, and you look over your shoulder with a soft smirk and a teasing glint in your eye.

“You never wear this,” you muse, turning around to fully face him.

Eddie grips the doorknob tighter for stability, licks his lips because fuck, he was somewhat right. That blessed red flannel falls across your frame like a waterfall, a little long in the sleeves but stopping just at the tops of your thighs. It’s also unbuttoned, completely, exposing your supple skin to his searching eyes. No bra, the garment just barely conceals you and to him, you might as well not even be wearing panties because the thin lace leaves nothing to the imagination. He can feel himself growing hard just looking at you and he shifts in place, a poor attempt in controlling his lust.

“It’s, uh, it’s too hot to wear,” he chokes out, brain scrambling to formulate coherent sentences.

That’s when you finally look at him, eyes sparkling in the midday sun and Eddie wants to melt into a puddle on the floor because if you looked at him just like this every single moment of every single day, he’s sure he’d die a happy man.

“But that leather jacket you don every day is breezy as can be,” you chuckle, eyebrow arching. “I don’t know, Eds, this feels nice to me. It’s real soft.”

“It looks good on you too,” he responds automatically.

“Yeah?” You sway from side to side, the flannel moving with you like a lover keeping you close.

“Sweetheart, all my clothes look good on you.” It’s honest and Eddie didn’t realize how true that statement actually was until you kept trying on his clothes. He’s wrapped you up in his leather jacket more times than he can count and don’t get him started on the things he wants to do to you when you wear his Hellfire Club shirt.

You smile, biting your lip softly. Then you’re crawling onto his bed, granting him a full view of your ass before placing yourself on your knees, hands resting against your thighs. Your hair is a disheveled mess and the flannel has fallen open a bit more, exposing a teasing amount of your tits to him. Eddie thinks you belong on the cover of a magazine or a poster he could tack onto his wall and jack off to when you’re not with him.

“Let me guess,” you say, pulling the garment off your shoulders, “you still think it would look better on the floor.”

Eddie finally kicks his ass into high gear, crossing the room to stand directly in front of you. His fingers tug at the flannel to bring it back up over your shoulders and then his lips are on yours, soft and gentle but insistent. His hands trail down to cup your breasts and you push up into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and deepening the kiss.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you gasp when he tweaks your nipples between his fingers.

“I like when you wear my clothes, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your skin, “makes me feel closer to you.”

“Sweet talker.”

“I’m serious,” he chuckles, “but you sitting here posed on my bed makes you look like something out of a magazine.”

“Oh yeah?” You ask, trailing your tongue along his jaw. “Like one of those dirty mags I found underneath your bed?”

“Well,” he begins, pulling back to meet your eyes, “you would make a great centerfold.”

Then he’s cupping your pussy in his hand and your breath stutters in your chest. He smirks before kissing you again, fingers working diligently against your clothed heat.

“Eddie, please, please,” you whine, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt.

His hands make their way to the backs of your thighs and he pulls, your legs coming out from under you as you drop unceremoniously onto your ass. He pulls on you again and you’re brought to the edge of the bed where he’s already waiting, down on his knees. Your heart flutters with anticipation.

Eddie’s breath is hot against your still clothed pussy and you shift your hips closer, silently begging for what you want most from him. His dark eyes flick up to meet yours as he teases a single finger across the lace. You let yourself drop to lay flat on your back with a sigh, deciding to let him do whatever the hell he wants to you.

“So wet,” he murmurs when he pushes your panties out of the way, “is this all for me?”

“Yes,” you sigh, “all for you, baby, I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Is that right?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer; he flattens his tongue against your cunt and licks a firm stripe from your entrance to your clit. You moan loudly, hands immediately flying to tangle in his hair. His tongue circles your clit before latching on to suck fervently against the bundle of nerves. You arch your back, fingers tightening, keeping him right fucking there. Two of his fingers slip inside of you without warning, setting a steady pace as he pulls every single sigh and moan he can from you.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

His mouth pulls off your clit with a resounding pop and then he’s moving up your body to capture your lips in a heated kiss, fingers still working inside you, bringing you closer and closer to your release. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes wide as he watches you come undone beneath him. Rolling your hips in a frenzied pace, you take his fingers deeper and deeper until your orgasm pitches through you like gasoline being poured over an already blazing fire. Eddie works you through it, he always does, and once your hips come to a stop and the spasms have subsided, he slips his fingers out of you and brings them to your awaiting mouth.

“That’s my good girl,” he muses when you wrap your lips around his fingers, “see how good you taste?”

You hum in agreement, swirling your tongue around his digits. He groans at the sensation before pulling his fingers from your mouth abruptly and bringing that same hand down to smack your ass sharply. You jolt, pushing your body further into him and he wraps his arms around you and rolls, bringing you up to straddle his hips.

“Think you can give me one more?” He asks, shifting his hips for you to feel his hard cock against your thigh.

You waste no time in helping rid him of his clothes. Your fingers start at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before latching your lips onto his collarbone and licking and sucking your way down to your prize. When you reach the denim of his jeans, you slide off the bed long enough to unfasten them and pull them and his boxers down in one fluid motion. You straddle his waist again, rolling your hips across his cock. His hands find your hips, squeezing and kneading the flesh tightly in his fingers and you bring the flannel back down off your shoulders. Turns out Eddie was right, it does get a bit too hot.

Grasping his cock in hand, you line him up at your entrance and sink down onto him slowly, enjoying the ache of him stretching you out. Eddie groans at the feeling of you already clenching around him, his hands bunching the fabric of his flannel around your waist to grip your hips tighter, to help you move against him.

Your hands fall flat on his chest for stability, his tattoos peaking out at you from in between your fingers. Fuck going slow and steady, you set a rapid pace, bouncing on his cock with what could only be described as pent up aggression, taking him fast and hard and deep.

“Fuck, yes,” you mewl, throwing your head back with an elongated moan.

“That’s it, baby,” he praises, smacking your ass again. “Ride my cock until you cum.”

His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing firm and tight circles, taking you higher and higher. You can feel your orgasm building inside of you, coursing through your veins like a tidal wave. You bite your lip with a whimper, one hand smacking against the wall in front of you to find purchase. Eddie has leaned up to capture a nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around the hardened peak, and the onslaught of these added sensations has your orgasm crashing over you.

Crying out Eddie’s name as pleasure overtakes you, he wraps one arm around you and flips you until you're flat on your back. He hikes your leg up on his hip and fucks you hard through your high, chasing his own release. Your nails rake down his chest, leaving wild and red scratches in their wake, as you roll your hips against him meeting him thrust for thrust for thrust.

“Eddie, please, cum inside me,” you whine, “I want to feel it.”

“Fuck,” he grunts and with two more hard thrusts, he’s exploding inside of you, warming you up from the inside.

Eddie pulls out of you gently and pulls your panties back in place, keeping all of him inside you. He kisses you then, all tongue and teeth, pulling you close, so close, you could meld into one single being. He interlocks his fingers with yours, lips pressing gentle kisses along your knuckles as you brush his hair away from his eyes.

“That was - shit, you really went for it,” he says after a moment, a teasing gleam in his eyes.

“I did say I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you remind him, “although I wasn’t expecting you to get this hot and bothered over me in your clothes.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, you could be completely naked or covered from head to toe and I’ll always get hot and bothered over you,” he says, capturing your lips in another kiss. “But I’m pretty sure this flannel is yours now.”

“Good,” you whisper, pecking his lips again, “I wasn’t going to give it back anyway.”

[lovebugism]

66. you’re sick and I feel bad because I’m pretty sure i gave it to you, so I bring you some of my great grandmother’s soup and watch movies with you with Eddie Spaghetti please 🥺

ty for requesting!! — eddie makes you soup (like the angel he is) after accidentally getting you sick (friends in love, fluff, 1.5k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

It’s a virtually impossible thing, you realize, to operate like a normal human being when you’re sick. 

You’re reduced to a withering thing on your couch, rotting from the inside and out, and drowning in a sea of crumpled-up tissues. In your fever-induced hysteria, you’re pretty sure you’re dying when a knock sounds at your door. 

You shout a hoarse “come in” with all the strength you have left. The last person you expect to walk in is Eddie Munson.

He’s wearing smudged eyeliner and a pink smile when enters your living room. His chestnut hair is more wild than you’re used to, but his eyes are made of a familiar melted chocolate. There’s a plastic bag in his pale, ringed hand, full of stuff you can’t make out.

You think he might be an angel. 

“Eddie?” you sigh in a tiny voice, scratchy and quiet. 

You look at him like no one’s ever looked at him before. Not like you’re excited to see him. No, it’s more than that — it’s like you’re relieved. Like out of a billion people that could’ve stepped through that doorway, you’re happiest that it’s him.

He cowers under the weight of your twinkling, tired gaze. 

“Yeah. Hi. Sorry to, like, come over without calling or anything,” he apologizes, laughing awkwardly as he shifts his weight on his dirty sneakers. “But I felt a little bad about getting you sick at Steve’s the other night. I was gonna stay home, but Dustin wanted me to go. He insisted on it, actually—”

He’s rambling like an idiot, making a total fool of himself. He doesn’t know why you’re smiling so gently at him like you find it all endearing. “It’s not your fault, Eds,” you assure, voice slightly stuffy, as you shake your head at him.

“Well, it kinda is, actually, so…” Another awkward laugh tumbles from his smiling mouth. In his shyness, his gaze flits from yours to the bag in his hand. “I, uh— I wanted to do something nice, you know? Like, make you soup or something. But then I realized I don’t actually know how to cook, so I went to the store and got some of the canned stuff.”

“Oh,” you hum, then sniffle. “Thank you, Eddie. That’s— That’s really nice of you.”

“It’s no problem. Really. I can make it for you if you want. Or microwave it, I guess. So you can, you know, rest of whatever.”

“You don’t have to do that—”

“I want to.”

“I just don’t want you to get sick,” you agonize, face scrunched with a distant worry.

Eddie grins at your concern and shrugs off every ounce of it. “I already had it. So I’m basically immune at this point, right? I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s how the science works, anyway.”

You laugh for the first time in three days. You forget how sick you are until the action makes your chest ache. Your smile is weighed down by exhaustion, but it doesn’t waver once when you look at him. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

Even though your muscles are achy, you manage to walk yourself to the kitchen. You tell Eddie you can put the soup on yourself, but he isn’t having any of it. He walks you back to the couch and warms it up for you — even puts it in a heart-shaped bowl he found in your cabinet, ‘cause he thought it might make you feel a little better.

He tastes it with a separate spoon to make sure it isn’t too hot, then rushes back to your side in record time.

“Thank you,” you murmur when he passes you the newly warmed-up soup. The words come out more scratchy than you mean for them to. You try to clear your throat, but you don’t think it makes it any better.

“Don’t thank me— I’m the reason you’re in this mess,” he laughs and sits on the couch beside you. He keeps a cushion of space between you, lest he get any closer and make you uncomfortable. “So, I’m not, like, above spoon-feeding it to you or anything.”

You try to laugh at his dumb joke. It comes out in a single, hoarse breath that makes your chest sting. “I think I got it from here. Thanks for the offer, though.”

Eddie runs out of stupid things to say and the apartment goes silent. 

Your TV plays so low it’s basically on mute, and your neighbors talk on their porch outside — the sound of both gets increasingly louder without either of you talking over them.

He doesn’t know what to say — how to tell you that he’d like to spend more time with you without actually having to say the words. Confessing his schoolboy crush out loud, to the pretty girl he got sick, would be the least metal thing he’s ever done.

“Do you wanna, like, put on a movie or something?” he offers suddenly, rubbing his ringed fingers on his dark jeans to make them feel less clammy. “I can run to Family Video and bother Steve until he lets me take something for free? Unless you’re, like, totally sick of me— which would be totally understandable—”

“No,” you interject with a shake of your head, still trying to smile even though it takes so much energy out of you. “I mean, I’d like that, but…”

“But?” Eddie repeats when you trail off, brows raised behind his fluffy bangs.

You tilt your chin to your chest and peer at him through your lashes. Your eyes are red-rimmed and glassy, still pretty enough to drown in. “Don’t you have a show tonight?” you remind him in a gentle whisper.

His heart would swell at the thought of you knowing his show schedule if it wasn’t already dropping to his ass. He’d nearly forgotten all about it, too worried about you to remember the ten people at The Hideout waiting for him.

“Fuck…” he groans and slumps against the couch. His head tilts back and bears his pretty neck for you. You can see his pale jaw clench and his adam’s apple bob when he swallows. He’s too beautiful for his own good.

“You can go. It’s okay,” you assure gently.

His chocolate eyes melt for you when he opens them again. He looks sincerely apologetic, like leaving you hurts him the most. “I’d totally stay, but—”

“I get it. It’s fine,” you repeat, still grinning ‘cause you don’t know how else to look at him. You duck your sheepish gaze to the bowl in your lap and try to joke. “I’ll survive until tomorrow… I think.”

Eddie sits up again and leans closer to you. You get a better whiff of his musky cologne and the nicotine on his breath. “You better. ‘Cause I’m definitely coming over, and we’re definitely watching a movie, alright? All day until you’re sick of me.”

Your smile grows despite your exhaustion. You feel like this is his way of asking you out — like you’re too sick and he’s too nervous, and he’d love to do it some other way, but this is all he’s got for now. It’s more than enough for you.

“Sure,” you say with a firm nod.

“I can bring you more food, too, if you want! Whatever you feel like— say that word, and you got it.”

You falter for an answer to his sudden question.

He shakes his head. “That’s okay. Call me later if you want. I should be home around ten, if that’s not too late?”

“Okay,” you smile, then clear your throat when the word gets caught there.

“I’ll see you tomorrow— Feel better by then, okay? That’s an order,” he jokes and stands back up again. 

He doesn’t know what compels him to kiss you on the cheek — only that it felt right to do it and that he didn’t even realize he was doing it until his lips brushed your warm jaw.

His cinnamon eyes go wide. His rosy mouth falls softly agape. He looks more surprised than you do, but you’re not entirely sure that’s possible. A moment you’ve been thinking about for ages just happened before you could blink. 

You don’t think that’s very fair.

Eddie tries to laugh it off. “Forget I just did that… That was— That was really weird. Sorry.”

Your cheeks burn like fire. Not from the fever this time, but from the boy in front of you. From the yearning to feel him close again. 

“I’ll talk to you tonight,” you promise, even though your throat still burns. You’re not sure you care too much, anymore. You wanna talk to him until you can’t anymore.

“Yeah,” he sighs, breathless for a reason he can’t name. He walks backwards towards the door. “See you around,” he says finally, before spinning on his sneakers and nearly tripping over your carpet.

You blink, and he’s gone. Again. 

Your burning cheek still tingles with the imprint of his mouth. He’d asked you to forget, but you don’t think that’s possible. There’s no forgetting him at all.

[call-me-eds]

Lecture

Masterlist

Eddie x Reader

Wayne walks in on something..unbecoming. He has a special relationship with you, but now all of that is out the window.

“You live under my roof, Boy, don’t you forget that! Your mother is probably rolling over in her grave right now, she taught you better than to disrespect a home like this. Jesus, Ed, that is where we prepare food!”

You were in the bathroom looking at your cheeks grow redder by the second in the mirror while your boyfriend got chewed out, deservedly so. Eddie told you that Uncle Wayne wouldn’t be home for hours. “I barely see him nowadays now that he got himself a girlfriend,” were the exact words out of his mouth.

It wasn’t the first time you ventured out of his bedroom for a quick romp, but it was the first time you got interrupted. Sure, Uncle Wayne would flick the outside lights on and off a couple of times when you and Eddie were taking your time saying goodbye, or he would make a comment about keeping hands above the blanket when you three were watching one of his nature documentaries, but that was different, all innocent.

Now, everything has changed. Eye contact was out of the question for at least a decade, if you even worked up the courage to go back to the trailer before then.

Uncle Wayne made you feel like their home was yours, too, and you took advantage of that. Sleepovers were allowed, as long as your parents knew where you were. You had a standing dinner invitation, and he even picked up a bottle of hot sauce for you after you asked if there was any in the cabinets just one time. It had become such a place of comfort that you felt free enough to undress and let Eddie defile you right there on the counter. And the worst part about it was that it wasn’t even the first time.

Your body almost folded in on itself when you heard Eddie fighting back with him.

“I told you I will clean it-”

“Oh, I’ve seen your version of clean, and that’s not going to cut it. Bring Y/N home, and when you come back, I don’t want a peep from you for the rest of the night.” Eddie was 19, almost 20, but he was being spoken to like a child. God, Uncle Wayne raised him from childhood and now he saw him hunched over you, hips moving against yours faster than his uncontrollable mouth.

Silent most of the time, it was the loudest expression you had ever heard come from Uncle Wayne when he walked inside. You had almost been too overtaken by pleasure that you didn’t even hear him. Almost. That shout would haunt you for the rest of your life.

Eddie grabbed on to you even tighter, moving you behind him swiftly. This wasn’t happening. There was no way. It had to be some sort of twisted nightmare you got from eating too late again.

“Come on, man,” Eddie groaned, hands cupping his now exposed self.

“Oh my God,” you whimpered, crouching behind him, hoping that if you shut your eyes tight enough you might just disappear.

““I just want to come home after work and relax and this is what I get greeted with! In my own house!” Uncle Wayne yelled through eyes squeezed shut. “I am going to go outside, count to ten, and everyone better be fully clothed.” The door didn’t even have time to click shut before you were sprinting to the bathroom. Eddie started to try and talk you down, but Uncle Wayne kept true to his word and was back inside, yelling for Eddie to get out of his room.

“Take a shower and get changed, okay? I’ll handle it,” he said, rubbing your arm reassuringly before pulling on boxers and a t-shirt to do damage control in.

Getting in the shower, even if you didn’t use any of their limited hot water, was out of the question. You wouldn’t use a single amenity the Munson’s offered, and in fact were trying to think of ways to escape so you wouldn’t even need to use the front door. While you spun around, hoping a window had been added in the 30 minutes since you were last in the bathroom, a knock made you jump out of your skin.

“Sweetheart? Want me to take you home?” Eddie’s low voice came through the door, offering a way out as if you hadn’t heard Uncle Wayne demand it from him. You opened the door and Eddie smiled to try and console you, but a whimper came from your mouth still. He just nodded in commissary and put his hand on your back, leading you to the scene of the crime. Not seeing the witness was almost worse than facing him.

“Where did he go?” you whispered like he might jump out at any moment.

“Smoking,” Eddie said. Only when you became a more regular fixture did the boys take their habit outside. There was still an ashtray on the coffee table, but if they just had to indulge they did it where the smell wouldn’t sink into your clothes or their furniture.

The deep breath you took did nothing to calm your nerves as you stepped outside. For just a second you thought it would be better to see him not in direct lighting, but it just made his aura more ominous.

“I’m sorry, Mr.-”

“Oh, I haven’t even thought about what I’m going to say to you, yet. Get on home.” You nodded and put your head down, rushing toward the car.

“That was totally unnecessary,” Eddie huffed.

“I was going to tell you to be back in 30 minutes, but make it 15,” Uncle Wayne bit. Eddie must have felt your pleading energy coming from you, because he didn’t answer back for once and just climbed in the van, where you were curled up as small as you could get in the passenger’s seat.

Normally, you would wave until you were out of sight, and Wayne would wave right back. Having each other’s presence around was comforting, and you both knew how much it meant to Eddie. It was unexpected, but you developed a special relationship.

“I can never step foot in there again,” you said, shoving your face in your hands, skin still hot. Eddie put his hand on your knee, and it’s usual comfort just made you feel even more shame. “Did you see the way he was looking at me? He hates me,” you swiped under your eyes and Eddie clocked your movement instantly.

“He does not hate you,” Eddie assured. “Me, maybe. But he’ll be over it by the morning, I swear.” You grumbled your disagreement and grabbed his hand, holding it firmly for the rest of the drive.

“Come on, Doll,” he separated from you to climb out of the car once he pulled up to your house, but you pushed him back into his seat gently.

“No, you have to get home,” you sighed, looking at your watch.

“He wasn’t serious about that,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “I can spare a minute to walk you to your door.”

“Please, it’s fine. I don’t want you to get into any more trouble,” you begged. He went to fight, but saw how your glassy eyes were filling with tears and your lip wobbled.

“Okay,” he sighed. “I love you, please don’t worry about this. It’s kind of funny,” he smiled.

“It’s not,” you sniffled, although you appreciated his sentiment. “I love you, too,” you kissed him quickly and scampered up to your house, itching to shower off the humiliation.

“It has been two weeks, I promise you he isn’t going to be weird.”

“I am going to be weird! I can’t face him!” Eddie drove right to the trailer after your dinner date, and you were threatening to yell out kidnapping claims.

Eddie had been to your house almost every day in the last two weeks, and you had your intimate moments in your locked bedroom or his car under the sheath of night. Going to the trailer wasn’t an option, and you made that clear; you didn’t even call for fear of Uncle Wayne picking up the phone.

“The longer you avoid him the worse it’ll get. I have to live with the guy, and you’re much braver than I am,” he said, basically pulling you out of the car.

“He used to change your diapers, it’s different,” you locked your legs but he grabbed your biceps, lifting you up and carrying you to the front door. “Eddie, please, please, I am begging you. I’ll watch any movies you want for a month, two months!” you bargained desperately, but he wouldn’t hear it.

At first, he thought it was weird how much you liked to be around his uncle, and vice versa. Initially he was convinced that you were both just being nice to each other to appease him. But then he realized just how similar you were; it was gross. The situation was more messed up than one of those guys that dated someone like their mom, he was dating his uncle.

Having you separated was even worse. Uncle Wayne had been forcing Eddie to listen to his rants about work and you had been so upset and anxious it was making him feel horrible.

“You’re going to be fine,” he said, opening the door with one hand and keeping a supportive grip on you with the other.

“No, no, no,” you grunted, trying to grab onto the doorframe to stay outside. Eddie nudged your foot with his, not unlike he had the two fateful weeks ago.

You were in the small kitchen, heating some water for tea. Warm hands slithered around your bare waist and dipped under the band of your shorts.

“Hi,” Eddie breathed in your ear. There was a smile on your face in half of a heartbeat. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you giggled. He rubbed his nose against your neck and snaked his ankle around yours, tugging slightly so you were in a wider stance.

“Turning me on,” he mumbled, lips sinking into your skin.

20 minutes later, you were crouched behind Eddie, wishing you could sink into the floor.

“So you didn’t forget where we lived, huh?” The gruff voice you would have made a deal with the devil to avoid greeted you as Eddie forced you inside.

“Hi Mr. Munson,” you mumbled, fingers twisting your bracelet so rapidly Eddie thought it might break.

“‘Mr. Munson,’” he scoffed. “I don’t remember telling you you couldn’t call me Uncle Wayne anymore.” He had always been soft spoken, but you never recalled a time where you struggled to hear what came out of his mouth. Finally, you looked up and found that his cheeks were aflame as well, and the label on his beer bottle was picked clean off.

“We’re going to hang out in my room,” Eddie said, making you jump. You almost forgot he was there, you were so focused on his uncle.

“Hell no, you’re not,” Wayne laughed boisterously, animation coming back to his body. “You’re going to go to the store and get the batteries for the smoke detector that I gave you money for a week ago.” It was no question that if you had been at the trailer in that time the errand would have already been done, the beeping of the low battery already bothering you.

“Why didn’t you remind me before I went to get Y/N,” Eddie whined.

“Because she’s going to keep me company here.” Your heart fell into your stomach, and you thought you might pass out. This was your worst nightmare.

“I can just go and get them,” you quickly offered. “What kind? I’ll just get a bunch of different ones. Give me your keys,” you demanded of Eddie.

“No, no, my nephew can go. This is as painful for you as it is for me, Honey, let’s just get it over with,” he grunted, sitting up a bit in his chair.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes,” Eddie promised. If today was the day he decided to start following traffic laws, you were going to break up with him.

Once the door shut, there was nowhere to divert your attention to. You took as many small steps as possible to the couch, hoping to delay the inevitable awkward conversation. Maybe if you apologized and promised to never come back, Wayne would take it easy on you.

Before you could give that plan a try, though, he started to talk.

“You know how much I love ya,” he said, kicking things off in a much different direction than you thought it would go. “You’re good to Ed, you help out around here no matter how much we tell you to stop, and you’re respectful.” That last word stung.

While you knew your home life was privileged and your childhood was infinitely more peaceful than Eddie’s, that didn’t mean you and your parents were immune to arguments. You were a young adult, after all. The Munson’s trailer provided a safe space for you to escape. The small home was packed with love and comfort, it quickly became your favorite place to spend time.

“But you are a young lady, and I don’t want to see you get in any trouble. Eddie’s mother was too young when she had him, and I won’t have him be stuck in the same cycle.” You wouldn’t believe it if you weren’t seeing it, but he was getting choked up. “He’s a good boy, and he would give everything up if you got into a situation, but I do not want that to happen. And it would be even worse for you, the way people talk. You both deserve to have the freedom to do whatever you want in this life, and I don’t like that you’re doing all of that but I know I won’t stop you, so just, be safe. And for God’s sake, keep it out of the kitchen,” he finished his speech, sitting back in his recliner and taking a long drink from his beer.

Uncle Wayne wasn’t going to ban you from the residence, or shame you, or even judge you. He was looking out for you both.

“I am still, so so sorry. I never meant to take advantage of your kindness.” He had to have heard the sincerity in your voice, it was almost shaking.

“How I treat you isn’t conditional. That boy is my son, and you are like a daughter. I wish you would both get that through your heads,” he sighed.

“Oh,” you breathed out. Never had you seen him be so straightforward with his emotions. That was where he and Eddie differed. You knew instantly if Eddie stubbed his toe or felt dissed by someone in the band, but Wayne played his cards extremely close to his chest. He had laid it all on the table now, though, nothing left to say.

You had to clear your throat so your next words wouldn’t get stuck as you tried to force them out. “And we are always safe, for the record.” He waved his hand and focused his eyes on the TV flickering.

“Well I know you have a good head on your shoulders. I wonder about that boy, though,” he grinned, making the tension from your shoulders release all at once..

“Oh, he means well,” you smiled. A few minutes of silence, not as terrible as you thought it would be, went by before you spoke up again.

“Uncle Wayne?” He turned to you and quirked up the side of his mouth, encouraging you to go on. Eddie made the same face, and you were happy to imagine him at Wayne’s age. “You didn’t, uh, see anything did you?”

“Oh, Jesus,” he shuddered slightly and the color returned to his cheeks. “I would have let a tool slip at work and rip my eyes out. At least then I would have gotten some workman’s comp,” he joked.

“I guess I would have had to come take care of you then, huh? Eddie can barely remember to pick up batteries.” Speaking of the devil, he walked back inside with a pack of batteries and a soda.

“If that ain’t the truth,” Uncle Wayne smiled.

“What?” Eddie asked, handing you the cup and flopping on the couch next to you. He raised his eyebrows, asking if everything had gone alright. You weren’t outside crying like he half expected you to be, so he guessed it went well. Once you leaned forward and kissed him briefly and gently, his worries melted away.

“Nothing. You have to change that battery, though, it’s driving me nuts,” you said, pushing him off of you.

“I don’t know how to do that shit,” he shrugged right as another piercing beep came from the machine.

“Come on, I’ll teach you,” Uncle Wayne said to you, grunting as he stood up. You nodded, grabbing the step-stool and climbing up, getting ready to listen to Wayne’s instructions. He reached down to pull Eddie up by the shirt. “It won’t kill you to learn this, too.”

“That’s what I have you two for,” he grinned, allowing himself to be dragged along.

“I have to put up with him, legally. Why do you do it, girl?” he asked you. Before you could give a sweet, cheesy answer, Eddie got the brilliant idea to offer his opinion.

“Well, I think you saw why.” Your gasp was right in time with Wayne’s palm meeting the back of Eddie’s head.

“You’re sick,” you scowled, ripping the batteries from his hand.

“Shameless,” Uncle Wayne shook his head.

“Kick him out, I’ll take over his room and even keep it clean,” you teased, sliding the battery into place and snapping the cover back on.

“When can you move in?” he asked, offering his hand to help you down.

“I think I liked it better when you two weren’t speaking,” Eddie said, almost regretting bringing you back together. He’d never admit it, but your relationship meant a lot to him, too. His two favorite people.

[ashwhowrites]

Yay! Your requests are open again!

Eddie + Reader are divorced, but parted on good terms. One day they are at a b-day of one of their mutual friends and get a little tipsy. They start talking and eventually hook up that night.

Reader finds out she is pregnant and decides to keep the baby with Eddie's full support. Throughout the pregnancy, they fall back in love.

<3 Thank you.

This is so cute. A happy ending!!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

Oh, Baby

Falling in love young is always an unexpected journey. Y/N and Eddie felt unstoppable as they fell in love. Young teens that dove into something bigger than they thought they could handle. Fire and full of passion, speeding through too fast for either of them to see when it started to fall apart. They got married right after high school, hitched off to Vegas and she took his last name. Everyone thought they were crazy and dumb. But isn't the saying only fools go rushing in?

The start of their marriage was a fairytale. It was everything they dreamed of and knew they would prove everyone wrong. Because they knew they were meant to be and there was no one else they would ever be with. They fit perfectly together.

As hard as it was, they discovered people change as they grow up. And sometimes can't change together. Eddie and her wanted too many different things, which led them to realize they were meant to be together young, and not to grow old with.

They ended on good terms, both wishing the best for each other. They didn't keep much in contact, knowing it was easier to move on if they went their separate ways. They didn't have anything tying them together so they let go.

~~~

Steve decided to throw himself a huge birthday party for turning thirty. And since he was a friend of Eddie's and Y/N's they both knew there was a chance they'd run into each other.

Y/N may have gotten a new dress and tried extra hard with her makeup. She may have sprayed on Eddie's favorite perfume she used to wear during their marriage. She might have been eyeing the door, dying to see him again.

Eddie may have rolled up his sleeves in the way Y/N always liked. He may have dosed his neck in the cologne that made her legs weak. He might have tied up his hair in a lower bun, knowing his loose curls drove her insane. He might have smoked a cigarette on the way as he calmed his nerves.

Once he walked in, the magnetic connection between them yanked them together instantly. His eyes latched on her as she walked over to him. His nose inhaled her sweet perfume as she wrapped her arms around him. He bit his lip when he pulled away, no shame in checking her out.

She could smell the cologne on his skin, craving to taste him again. She blushed under his stare, the dress doing what she wanted. She couldn't help but check him out as well. She bit her lip as she noticed his thick arms underneath his tight button-up, his sleeves rolled so his tattoos showed. The fancy watch on his wrist and rings on his fingers. Yet, the only finger that remained empty was his ring finger.

"You look incredible." He complimented, his voice deep and raspy. It reminded her of his morning voice, how he'd roll over and whisper right against her ear.

"Thanks, Eds. You do too." Eddie felt like he got lost in her smile all over again.

"Eddie! You made it!" Steve cheered, dragging Eddie out of the room. His brown eyes looked back at her until she was out of his sight.

~~~

The last few people were starting to head out. Y/N had her feet in the pool as she sipped her drink. Steve was picking things up in the backyard, keeping a close eye on her.

"Sure you don't want me to bring you home?" He asked, but she shook off his offer.

"No, I think I'm good to drive." Steve accepted her answer and walked inside. He gave a small smile to Eddie as he passed him. Eddie had his hands in his pockets as he walked up to her. She smiled as he sat next to her, his back to the pool as he stretched out his legs. His shoulder rested against hers as he looked at her.

Neither knew how long they were out there, talking for hours. But they got the cue to leave once Steve was ready for bed.

Just like old times, she held his hand as they walked to his car. His hand was on her thigh as she hummed to the radio. Her stomach was filled with butterflies, but the smile on her face never left. The same feelings she felt on their first date were happening again.

"You still haven't fixed that front step!" Eddie laughed, following behind Y/N as she unlocked the front door. The same house they lived in together before Eddie moved out. Eddie remembered breaking that step when they moved in, carrying way too many boxes.

"It's our first memory in this house, I never want to fix it." She shrugged, taking off her shoes as he walked in behind her. He looked around, not much had changed. The pictures of them were taken off the walls, and replaced with their friends. All the things he took with him kept the place empty, he realized she never replaced his things with anything new.

"I kinda figured you'd make this place into your own," Eddie admitted, walking further into the small house. He didn't hear her behind him, and she didn't say a word.

She walked into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of wine, and poured two glasses. She let Eddie look around the house as she grabbed the glasses and headed to the couch.

After a second, Eddie joined her. Both filled up the silence with random conversations as they sipped glass after glass.

As time went on, she found herself and Eddie moving closer to closer. Then she felt his lips on hers, his hands eagerly touching her. She felt like he took all her breath away, his hands touching her the same way they used to. His kiss felt the same.

~~~

It's been a week since she and Eddie had sex. She felt relieved that he was still there when she woke up. It was awkward at first, neither knowing what to say or what the next step was.

But they were divorced, and they had to remind themselves of that.

She didn't plan on seeing Eddie much after that, just a little backslide but she's back on the path of moving forward.

That was until she found out she was pregnant. She knew it was Eddie's since she hadn't been with anyone lately. She was worried Eddie might not want to be brought back together again. But the excitement that was on his face washed all her worries away. He cheered and spun her around.

He always wanted a family and he always wanted it with her.

He didn't let her do a single thing alone. He went to every appointment, holding her hand as they stared at the screen. They went to every baby store, and he insisted on buying everything she wanted. Together they worked on the nursery at her house, Eddie painted the room and cleaned up the floors. She couldn't help but feel so much love for him as he worked to put the nursery together. His touch all around the room.

Some nights he stayed on the couch, the more she grew the more nervous he got leaving her alone. If there was ever an issue, no matter the time, he'd show up at her door.

She couldn't help but wish the divorce never happened, that Eddie was still hers. But in a way, she felt like they needed the divorce to grow on their own. And be better for each other.

"I still can't believe I did that!" Eddie groaned, Y/N laughed at his embarrassment, rubbing her stomach as she retold the story of when Eddie got drunk and met her parents for the first time.

They found themselves traveling down their memories every time they hung out. Digging up old feelings and showing them on their arms.

"Why are you laughing? You met Wayne right after you sucked me off!" Eddie said, laughing as she covered her face in horror.

"We were so crazy back then." Y/N sighed after their laughter died. Her hand was on her bump as she looked at him. "We were so in love and inseparable. What happened to us?"

Eddie looked over at her, his hand reaching to rub her stomach. His eyes were soft as he looked into her eyes.

"We grew up. I was nowhere near a good husband for you. I wanted to be, but we were too young to try to save a love like that. But there was never a day I didn't think about you." He admitted, dropping to his knees as he rested his chin on her bump.

She leaned down and rubbed his cheek, melting at his brown eyes.

"I always thought about you too. I know we were young and neither of us knew how to fight for each other, just against each other. But do you ever think about us if we did make it through? If we kept trying instead of giving up?"

"Sometimes," Eddie admitted, leaning into her touch. "But look where we are now. I think we needed to grow up on our own. Without the fear of disappointing each other. It helped us truly focus on just ourselves. And now? We are having a baby. Exactly where I always wanted to be with you." He kissed her stomach softly, resting his head against her as she played with his hair.

Before she could say something, she felt something. A harsh cramp in her stomach. She gasped and gripped Eddie's shoulders. His worried eyes looked at her as he felt something in her stomach.

"Was that?"

"Did he?"

Then another cramp, Y/N smiled when she realized their baby was kicking.

"Eddie! He's kicking!" She announced, Eddie quickly placed his hands on her stomach.

"Kick for daddy." He said, a smile on his face as he felt a hit against his palm.

Y/N felt tears in her eyes as she watched Eddie excitedly talk to the baby and wait for kicks. The excitement in his bright eyes and the love.

"I love you." She whispered, sniffling.

He looked up, hand on her stomach and the other hand on her cheek. He rubbed her tears away.

"I love you too."

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Eddie's Too Late ... ?

It's about pining Eddie!! And he wants so badly to ask out Steve. Robin even might have given him an encouraging little talk about it. And he finally works up the courage to do so, and comes to family video, and he brings fucking flowers with him cuz he's a goddamn sap.

But he walks in , already smiling at Steve like always, but he's talking to some guy at the counter. Some punk lookin dude. And Eddie freezes in the door, hears the guy flirting and hears Steve laugh, flustered. And then the guy literally asks him out, and writes his number on Steve's hand when he shrugs and nods, and goes bright red.

And Eddie just, god he wants to cry. So he turns, walks back out and leaves, his chest fucking aching. Cuz he was a fucking idiot who waited too goddamn long.

And Steve hears the door clink shut, sees Eddie's back as he's leaving, sees him toss something in the trash outside. And he waits for punk guy, Jake, to leave. He's a regular. He's nice. If a little pushy for Steve's liking.

He told Steve he'd pick him up on friday. Didn't ask. And Steve had been so flustered when the guy grabbed his hand he just sort of... agreed.... maybe hoping he would leave faster.

So he waits for him to leave and then runs outside, digs in the trash and finds the flowers. And they're all yellow flowers, sunflowers mixed with daisies, and Steve even sees a couple dandelions stuck in, his eyes crinkling in a smile cuz he and Eddie had gotten into a huge fight with Robin and Nancy about whether they were weeds or flowers,  Eddie and Steve on the side of flowers, of course.

And his heart flutters cuz Eddie had told him about a month ago, when he handed him this weird little yellow figurine, and Steve had asked why he was always giving him yellow stuff. Eddie had shrugged and said,

"it just reminds me of you I guess." Steve had immediately reconsidered his favorite color choice.

But Steve's heart drops because... Eddie had thrown this away... in the trash... right after he'd seen Steve with Jake. Steve feels like he's gonna puke, but he takes the flowers inside, sits them in the breakroom until its time for him to leave.

He calls Jake right before close. Wanted to wait til he was hopefully at home. Tells him he can't go out with him. Not friday. Or any other day. That he has someone.. hopefully. Jake sounds disappointed but doesn't push, thankfully. Steve grabs the flowers on his way out and drives to Eddie's.

He stops by Melvald's on the way, asks Joyce for help. They have some flowers, but nothing that says "Eddie." Joyce grabs a simple red rose and then a box of chocolate covered cherries. Steve's brow furrows and she just smiles at him and says,

"I've seen that boy buy six boxes of these at once. His sweet tooth is... a little bit alarming... actually. But it'll get the job done." She winks at him and Steve's never felt more greatful that Joyce pays attention to people, and works at the store, and is nosy like he is. He hugs her, grabs the rose and the chocolates, and runs to his car.

Eddie isn't home when he gets there. His van is there. But he's not at the trailer and Steve feels like he's gonna cry, his chest tight as Wayne tells him he left a few hours ago. Steve nods, his brow furrowing and he's about to leave when Wayne's hand on his shoulder stops him.

"Ya know the creek over off McAlpine street?" He asks, Steve nods, confused.

"He was headed that way. Likes to go there to be alone." Wayne gives him this soft encouraging smile, pats him on the back, and watches as Steve runs to his car.

He parks on the side of the road, as close to the creek as he can get. And then he runs.

He finds the creek but no Eddie at first, so he starts walking along the creekside, he rounds a bend and finally sees him.

He's crouched on the creek side, toes of his shoes just barley out of reach of the water. He's holding a stick, Steve squints and sees a small turtle walking across it, toward a big rock in the middle of the water. Eddie's crying. Silently. Tears slowly falling.

He wipes at his face every now and then with his free hand, eyes on the turtle. He smiles softly when the little thing reaches the rock. Steve smiles too. His heart thumping as he watches Eddie help this tiny creature. He takes a few more steps and then clears his throat when Eddie doesn't hear him. Eddie scrambles to his feet, startled, holding the stick out in front of him like a weapon, wiping at his face with the crook of his elbow.

"What are you doing here?" And it makes Steve shiver, so reminiscent of the boat house, when they'd found him terrified. Steve would have held his hands up in surrender, but they were a little full. Eddie’s yellow bundle of flowers on one, the rose and candy in the other.

"I found your flowers." He says, holding them up a bit and then letting them swing back by his side. Eddie doesn't say anything. Just looks away. Moves back to the edge of the creek, crouches back down, hugs his knees to his chest. Steve sighs, moves closer.

"I'm not going out with Jake." Steve says, because he needs Eddie to know. Needs him to stop hurting as soon as possible. Eddie sniffles, doesn't look at him.

"Jake." Is all he says. And Steve laughs at how he says it, he sounds so annoyed. Steve bumps his shoulder, Eddie scowls, bumps him back, harder.

"But you wanted too. You said yes." Eddie picks up another stick, pokes it into the mud.

"I only said yes cuz it took me by suprise, and he grabbed my hand and I got flustered. I didn't- he's not really my type." Steve says, leaning against Eddie as he sits, the ground is cold, and he can feel the damp soaking into his jeans a bit. Eddie glances at him. And s

Steve can see his guard coming down, just a bit.

"Oh yeah. Why not?" Eddie asks, and steve smiles. Crinkles his nose.

"Me? Dating a punk? Come on. Not a chance." Steve teases, bites his lip.

"Especially since there's this metal head that's kinda got me in a choke hold." Steve sighs, looks at Eddie. He finally turns to look at Steve, blinking slowly.

"Really?" Eddie asks, his fingers tugging at the hole in the knee of his jeans. Steve nods.

"Really. Can't seem to get him outta my head." Steve smiles, holds the rose and candy out to Eddie, Eddie just stares again. Steve wiggles the box of chocolates.

"C'mon. I know you like 'em. Joyce gave you up." Steve wiggles the box more aggressively and Eddie snatches it, then gently takes the rose, he sets the chocolates in his lap, whispering a quiet "traitor" that makes Steve smile.

"Thank you for the flowers. I love... them." Steve stumbles over that bit. Swallowing hard when Eddie’s eyes snap to him.

"You're welcome." Eddie shurgs.

"Just thought you might like some flowers. You seem like a flowers type of guy." Steve smiles, rests his head on Eddie's shoulder.

"The dandelions are my favorite." He whispers, moves and presses a kiss to Eddie's shoulder, and hears Eddie's breathing falter.

"I um... I love... my flower, too..... so thanks." He stumbles over the words the way Steve did, but on purpose, leaning away from Steve so he can look at him, a sly little smile on his face. But Steve's face is somber, his hands twitch in his lap.

"It's- I mean you don't have to sa-"

"I love you." Eddie cuts him off. Says it bluntly. And it makes Steve's chest hurt. He shakes his head, brow furrowed.

"I do though. I have for awhile. I'm just an idiot with terrible timing." Eddie bumps their shoulders, leans heavily into Steve. Steve takes a deep, shaky breath.

"I don't want you to say it just because you think I want to hear it." Steve says, his teeth worrying into his lip.

"That's not why I said it."

Steve looks at him.

"No? You didn't say it to me cuz I just like... really obviously almost said it to you?" He looks back into his lap, frowning.

"No. Although that was adorable." Eddie smiles, it makes Steve want to smile too.

"Hey." Eddie voice is soft, he reaches out, cups Steve's cheek and makes him look at him.

"Have you ever known me to say something just cuz it's something someone wants to hear?" He asks, Steve scoffs, shakes his head, looking shy.

"Okay then. I didn't say it because of that. I said it," he takes a deep breath, lets it out, drops his hands back into his lap.

"Because I saw you with that guy today-"

"Jake." Steve interrupts, smirk on his lips. Eddie pauses.

"Don't push it Harrington. I'm trying to be... serious... or something." His brow furrows, Steve reaches out, his face softening.

"Sorry. Go ahead."

Eddie huffs.

"I saw you with Jake, and it hurt. Like a lot. And I thought I lost you, ya know? Just cuz I was too fuckin scared to tell you how I feel. Cuz I love you. Cuz your GOOD. and I thought I lost it. And then you walked up looking all sad and apologetic and you didn't even DO anything." Eddie huffs again, his hands flailing.

"I hurt you." Steve mutters, Eddie makes a sound in his throat.

"Not on purpose! You didn't know! Cuz I didn't say! Jesus. All I do is talk, all of the fucking time, but I couldn't say the most important thing. And then Jake was writing his fucking number on your hand it was too late." Eddie shakes head, sighs deeply, and then turns to Steve with a smile that looks like it's half a grimace of pain. Steve nods.

"But here I am."

Eddie bites his lip, nods back.

"Here you are." Eddie says.

"Not with Jake." Steve says. Eddie rolls his eyes. Steve snorts.

"Can we never say that name again. I already hate it." Eddie grumbles.

"Fine with me. He is a regular though." Steve says, shrugs, pulls some grass out of the ground and drops it on Eddie's thigh. Eddie watches him move it around with his finger, pushing it into a pile on his leg.

"I'll burn his house down." Eddie whispers, still watching Steve. Steve barks a laugh and brushes the grass off Eddie's leg.

"Very dramatic." He says, fondly.

"Too strong? I could just steal his VCR. Don't need to rent movies if you don't have a VCR." Eddie says, his fingers moving to settling on Steve's wrist. Steve chuckles again, shakes his head, then stares at Eddie.

"I honestly can't tell if you're joking, so please don't steal anything from him." Steve moves his hand, turns it and slides it up into Eddie's, their fingers wrapping around each other, Eddie makes a weird little face, holds their hands up into Steve sightline, and then he's smiling.

"Looks like I already did." He shrugs, and Steve is about to laugh again, or roll his eyes, when Eddie presses a kiss to the back of his hand. It sort of takes Steve's breath away.

"I said I love you because that's how I feel. Okay? You believe me?" Eddie asks, his brow furrowed as he stares at Steve. And Steve remembers telling him about what happened with Nancy,  remembers how Eddie had hugged him. Wonders if he loved him them. Or before that? Or after.  But it doesn't really matter, because he loves him now. And Steve watches Eddie's thumb move soothingly over his hand, and knows Eddie means it. Feels that he does. So he nods, drags Eddie's own hand to his lips and kisses it, like Eddie had done.

"I love you too." Steve whispers into his skin. Eddie's free hand is at his chin then, tilting his head just so,

"I know." Breathed against his mouth, and then the softest press of lips before Eddie is leaning away just enough to breathe between them.

"Now look away, cuz I'm about to inhale this entire box of chocolate covered cherries." He whispers, his lips brushing Steve's again as he laughs into Eddie's mouth.

He does actually eat the whole box. Well, almost the whole box. He lets Steve have one, sinks his teeth into it as he holds it in his mouth and dares Steve to take it. And Steve's never been one to turn down a dare. Especially if it's sweet.

And Steve is quickly learning, there's nothing quite as sweet as candy covered Eddie kisses.

[bettyfrommars]

Might be too much in line with I'm on fire.. but what about classic a classic motorcycle riding drifter.. that is more than meets the eye... maybe more monster than man and that's why he drifts... idk if that's enough maybe he's drifted into small town USA and he meets reader at like a Truckstop/ Diner that's across from the one hotel in town and over days of her waiting on him (EDS) they strike something up... spicy.. if you will.. maybe he finds her delectable and she finds him mysterious & charming idk just spit ballin

The Drifter

missed connections

out on the highway

monster!drifter!Eddie x dinerWaitress!Reader

18+ONLY, smut, blood, oral (f receiving), mention of drug and alcohol addiction, mention of physical abuse by an ex, mention of PTSD, emotional trauma, 2 lost souls finding each other, a killing, monsterfuqqing, but it’s also a really sweet, fluffy story if that makes sense. wc: 4.2

A/N: I was so excited to get this ask! I had to really pull back on the length of this story because I could've kept writing it forever and will most likely bring back Eddie The Drifter again in some oneshots. I did a quick re-read, but sometimes I just need to post these before I obsess over them for too long.

(Also, when Eddie is thinking about how "damaged" they both are, that is his perception, not mine. I think they are both perfect.)

Eddie had been drifting for a while.  He didn’t want to know anyone, and he didn’t want anyone to know him.  He hadn't been the same since the physical and emotional trauma he’d suffered in The Upside Down.  Steve took him by the arm once and told him he understood what he was going through—that they all understood—and that he wasn’t alone.  Eddie knew Steve and the rest meant well, but they couldn’t understand, and he was convinced no one ever would. Trauma affects everyone differently and for Eddie, it started to turn him into his father, and that was what scared him more than anything.  Dark and brooding with a short fuse, there was a beast living inside of him that had not been there before the ordeal with Vecna; or perhaps, it had just been sleeping.  

He lost his temper with Dustin once, and at the time, he thought he was having a very normal reaction to the situation.  It wasn’t until he recognized the fear in his younger friend’s eyes–the way he backed away from Eddie and put his hands up as if he needed to protect himself—that Eddie knew he had to go.  After years of silent struggle and becoming a hermit more and more, he decided to hit the road.  

He started out in his van, sleeping in it, getting odd jobs wherever he went, staying in town just long enough to make some money, and then he was in the wind again.  He called Wayne from payphones and sent postcards back home to Hawkins once in a while, but not often.  In his mind, they were better off without him.

The second year he was on the road, he ended up getting involved with a biker gang and doing some jobs for them that paid well but were on the wrong side of the law.  Before the Upside Down, he’d been more of a lover than a fighter.  Sure, he had to defend himself a few times, especially from his old man, and he never took shit from people without giving it back, but ever since he almost died, he’d acquired some type of superhuman strength.  There was a transformation that happened in him now, fueled by the adrenaline of his rage, and in the past decade, he’d been paid to hurt more people than he could count. The problem was—he’d started to like it. 

Eventually, he was able to trade in his van for a Harley FXS 80, and he carried most of his early possessions with him.  He put the rest of what he owned in a storage unit in Oregon, and he’d planned to circle back there again one of these days to get it all when he decided to settle down—but years later, he was still on the road.   He’d been using his bedroll to sleep out under the stars the past couple nights, but the clouds told him it was about to rain, and he decided he could use a shower and a real bed for the night.

Red River Junction was less than a dot on a map, a truck stop town with a place to eat, a place to sleep, and a place to pump your gas, set right plop in the middle of nowhere.  You’d grown up in a town not too far down the highway, and you were still there, in the same trailer your mother left to you when she passed.  You worked at both the Sundown Motel part-time, and at Margie’s Diner, and in your free time, you dreamed about leaving town and never coming back.  

You heard the rumble of his motorcycle before you saw it; chrome pipes growling to a stop as the rider found a place for his bike in the lot.  A motorcycle, or even an entire MC, pulling into the junction was nothing new.  You were the only stop for gas and food for a good fifty miles.

You were staring for so long out the window as he dismounted and took his helmet off, that you overflowed the coffee cup you were refilling and the elderly customer scoffed at you.  He had long, curly hair tied back in a ponytail and bangs that had grown out just long enough to tuck behind his ears.  Black leather jacket, and leather chaps over his jeans. Your attention was immediately drawn to his jewelry: the small hoop piercing in his ear and the chunky rings across his knuckles.  My Boyfriend’s Back by The Angels played softly from the jukebox while you made your way to the front to greet him.  The kitchen was slammed with only Big Joe behind the grill, and Leslie was the only other waitress, but she was on a smoke break.  

You fumbled the big plastic menu in your hand when he took his sunglasses off to nail you with those star-flecked eyes.  “Just one for lunch?”

He tucked his sunglasses into the front of his shirt and looked around.  “You still serving breakfast?”

“All day long,” you assured him.  Seats at the counter were all full, so  you offered him a booth, and he slid in without another word or glance in your direction, taking the menu from you with a grunt. You tried not to stare at his scars: the angry, purple one on his neck, and the deep white slash across his chin.  His hands were also flecked with scar tissue from various fights, and punching through mirrors every time he hated his own reflection.

50 year old Leslie was tying her apron and chewing gum when you moved behind her to grab a cup and saucer for his coffee.  “Another grumpy one,” you whispered over the sound of clinking silverware and scattered conversations.  

Leslie raised her eyebrow a few times, resting her elbow on the counter.  “Hell, he can get grumpy with me any day.”

Eddie didn’t say much while you waited on him, and you didn’t think he was paying any attention to you, but he saw the way you splashed a bit of vodka into your soda can behind the counter.  He also caught the way you used that same liquid to toss back a couple pills you scooped out of your apron pocket just before you turned to grab some hot plates from the kitchen hatch.  He didn’t judge you for it or think it was odd being that he’d spent the past ten years trying to find ways to dull his pain.  

He thought you were too beautiful for this deadbeat town; too sweet, too kind.  He noticed the bruise on your forearm and the vacancy in your eyes and he felt an instant kinship with you: the damaged recognizing the damaged.  

When you came to clear his empty plate, he asked you if the Sundown Motel was a decent place to stay.  It was the only motel for miles and he didn’t care how decent it was, he just wanted a reason to keep talking to you.

“Sure, it’s great,” you shrugged.  “If you like bedbugs and carpets that look like a violent crime took place recently.”

He met your eyes, and there was a moment of levity there that lightened both of your spirits if only for that moment.  

“I’m cool with bedbugs,” he brushed his tongue between his lips.  “It gets lonely on the road, it’s nice to have some company.”

He told you his name was Eddie after he read yours off of your name tag, and when you came back from seating a table full of seniors who were on a bus tour to the casino, he was gone.

He left you a generous tip, though, and after hours of getting tipped in quarters and loose change, it felt good to have some solid cash in your pocket.  His motorcycle was gone too, and you wondered if he’d decided to hit the road or stay the night.  

You told yourself to forget about him, that he was just another drifter you’d never see again, but the evening had other plans for you.  

You were supposed to have the night off from both jobs, but Susan at the front desk of the motel begged you to come down and work the check-in desk for an hour while she went to pick her kid up.  You wished you could say you had some big plans, but that was absolutely not the case, and so you rolled your car up to the back lot behind the dumpsters and changed out of your orthopedic shoes and into something less drab.  

You thought it would be an easy hour to space off and read a book, but ten minutes after you clocked in, two guests locked themselves out of their room.  It was a two-tier motel, and as you made your way up the concrete steps with the husband and wife in question behind you, fumbling with the keys, you caught sight of Eddie a few rooms down, and your heart jumped into your throat.

He was sitting in the plastic chair in front of the door to his room, smoking a cigarette, stripped down to jeans and a wife-beater.  His hair was still wet from his shower, hanging down his shoulders, showcasing the patchwork of scars that covered his flesh.  

He didn’t make eye contact, but he saw you. In fact, he knew you were on your way a few minutes before that, because he heard your voice, and it made him stay and light another smoke.   He flicked his ash and waited for you to let the couple into their room.  

On your way back to the stairs, the soda and snack machine blocked your view, but once you rounded the corner, there he was again.  

“Is your room satisfactory, sir?” You put the keys in your pocket and stood tall, pretending to act professional.  

Eddie met your eyes then, staring up through his lashes, and one side of his mouth lifted in a smirk.  “Disappointed I haven’t found any bedbugs.”

You coughed a laugh, swaying on your feet.  “Give it time. They come out at dark.”

Eddie didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but he’d also learned never to miss an opportunity with how transient his life was.  His attraction to you was not purely physical, which was a rare occurrence for him. 

He shifted in his seat, a silky curl of gray smoke passing from his lips.  “Are you free later tonight? Can I buy you dinner?”  

Suddenly shy and baffled as to why he’d have any interest, you lowered your chin and shuffled your foot. 

 “I-I’ve got a boyfriend,” you cringed as you said it.  Tony had cheated on you and left you more times than you could count.  He took off a couple days ago after he knocked you around, and you had no idea where he was, but you continued to hold onto this strange sense of loyalty for him.  Perhaps it was because you were convinced he was the best you could do.  

“Did the tough guy do that to your arm?” Eddie asked in a low mumble, his eyes lingering on your bruises.

You covered the marks with your other hand, reflexively.  “He’s been under a lot of stress lately,” you always felt like such an idiot when you defended that loser, but you didn’t know how to stop.  

“Well,” Eddie smashed the butt in the ashtray by his chair and stood up to full height. One nipple under his white tank was hard, but the other one seemed to be missing.  “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

You were too stupefied to move, you just stood there holding your arm, waiting for him to go back into his room.

But Eddie paused in the doorway and turned to give you one last look.  “You deserve a lot better, sweetheart. If he puts his hands on you while I’m around, I’ll fucking kill him.”

—------

You thought about Eddie’s words for the rest of your shift.  When it was over, you drove the ten miles back to your trailer, took a shower, and found yourself driving back to the motel, as if your will was no longer your own.  

“What are you even doing?” You hissed aloud to yourself as you parked behind the Sundown in your usual spot.  It was dusk now and you accepted the possibility that he’d probably invited a different woman out to dinner by then, but any amount of reasoning couldn’t stop you.  You checked the scene first, looking up from the main parking lot to catch the flicker of the tv in his room to let you know he was, indeed, still up there.  His motorcycle was safe in its place, too, and you realized you hadn’t even prepared what to say.  You were an anxious mess, but you were also hungry for him in a way that was foreign to you.  

You hadn’t known much comfort or safety in your life, but you felt those things when you were around Eddie.

After standing at his door for a good 5 minutes, you finally found the courage to knock.

Eddie opened the door while your knuckles were still on the wood.  His eyes looked you over, offering a buck of his chin in appreciation. “Well, well. You are a gorgeous bedbug.”

Your cheeks burned hot at the complement.  “I had some free time, so I thought I’d just check and see how you were doing, if you have everything you need.”

Eddie braced his shoulder against the door jam, giving you a squint. “So, you came to check on me while you’re off the clock? Damn, that is good service.”

You flexed your hands, forcing a laugh, trying your best not to just turn around and run away.

“Are you hungry?” Eddie raised an eyebrow.  “Do you want to come in? Cause we can —”

“I’m not hungry.” You answered, bolting inside of his room when he extended his arm as an invitation, before you lost your nerve.

“Neither am I,” Eddie agreed.  But, he was craving something else.  

He locked the deadbolt and made sure the curtains were closed.

—-----

There were very few words left to be spoken as your lips collided with his, meeting with equal levels of urgency.  You kept trying to kiss him deep and desperate while your hand palmed him through his jeans, but he held you off a bit with soft pressure.  He cupped your face and caressed your cheek with his thumb while he kissed you, giving individual attention to your top lip and then the bottom one.  He kissed down your neck, flicking his tongue out every so often to taste you, making you gasp—you’d never been worshiped with someone's mouth before.    

Breathing heavy, he started to unbutton your shirt.  “Is this okay?” He asked, wondering how far you wanted to take it.

“Yes,” you gulped.  “Please.”

Once you had his shirt off, you bent down to kiss and lick his scars—it was an unspoken act of acceptance that made Eddie’s cock twitch.  You weren’t used to being cared for in bed, and Eddie could tell by the way you hurried to push your jeans down and bend over so he could take you from behind.

“Not like that,” he whispered, using strong arms to lower you to the bed while he shimmied your jeans off.  He got on his knees and scooped up your hips, nudging your pussy through your underwear with his nose, and then he planted kisses across the wet spot and along your inner thigh.  The animal inside of him loved your scent; he wanted to bury himself in it, and he couldn’t help the growl that escaped him.  

You fell back on the bed and covered your face with one hand.  “Wait, I’m—not many people have done that—I’m not sure how to—”

Eddie finger pulled your underwear to one side, exposing your slippery lips for his tongue to flick.  “Do you want me to stop?”

You arched back at the sensation of his mouth on you.  “No, no, please don’t stop,” you urged, putting your hand on his head to gently cup his ear, the one with the silver hoop.  

He moved away just long enough to pull your underwear all the way down your legs and off, maintaining eye contact with you.  He didn’t rush, he took his time, and kissed his way back up your legs to the prize.  

The gentle and precise way he swirled his tongue on your clit had you stammering his name with a few curses in between.  As his attention to your bundle of nerves built your arousal and it spilled down your slit, he dove his mouth down a few times to taste it and drink you, shivering at the pleasure it gave him.  He couldn’t help it, he had to reach down to grab his cock so he could fist it while his mouth brought you closer.  The taste of your hormones in your slick had pre-cum wetting his tip already.  

Tony had only gone down on you a few times, and he never really seemed to enjoy it.  But Eddie was one of those who could eat a peach for hours, as they say.

“Right…there…” you hushed, startled as you felt the wave of an orgasm rise.  Eddie zeroed in on that spot with just the right pressure, fluttering his tongue as he sucked.  His other hand milked his cock in long strokes, taming the beast from cumming too soon, moaning warm breath against your cunt.

“Eddie!” You cried out just as the release took you and wracked your body, like a spring popping out of a tight coil, unraveling.  Eddie pressed his mouth closer to lap you up, feeling your body vibrate as he held your hip in place.

He only broke the seal made by his mouth once you were too sensitive, and your limbs dangled off the bed for a minute, unable to move. 

It didn’t take long for you to start coaxing him up on top of you, spreading your legs out, begging for him to be closer.  He met your kiss with deep, soul-searching need, and you whined at the sensation of his tip sliding up and down your slick.  But, then he hesitated, and pulled up to meet your eyes.

“Inside of me,” you begged, nodding.  “I need you inside of me.”

And yes, that was what Eddie wanted too, but now there was another problem.  

Eddie’s ears pricked at the sound of footsteps outside the door.  He sniffed the air, trying to identify the presence.  He slid off of you and stood, watching the door while he pulled his jeans up and zipped his stiff, aching cock into place behind the denim.

Shuffling up onto your elbows, you were about to speak, to ask what was wrong, but Eddie silenced you with a finger to his lips.  He tossed your jeans over and motioned over his shoulder for you to put them on in the bathroom.

There was something about the whole situation, and Eddie’s sudden silence, that unnerved you, and so you scampered off the bed as quietly as you could and did as he asked.

There were no lights on in the room, except for the infomercial on the mute TV, but the bright moon illuminated the walkway outside enough for him to catch sight of someone pacing out there.  

Finally, there came a heavy knock and a voice.  

It was Tony, and he shouted your name.  “ARE YOU IN THERE? HUH? You fucking whore!”

You buttoned your jeans and all of the blood ran from your face.  Eddie turned his head to look at you.  The adrenaline of pure fear pumped through your body as you froze in place. 

Eddie put his hand out, motioning for you to stay right where you were, behind him.  

Tony pounded on the door again.  “YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM ME! One of my guys said he saw you go in here with some fucking dude.  IF YOU’RE FUCKING SOMEONE ELSE I’LL KILL YOU, you goddamn bitch!”

By “one of his guys” Tony meant one of the other drug dealers in town, who were generally crawling all over the motel, leeching off of the clientele.  Eddie looked deceptively calm as he stood at the end of the bed, breathing slow, and you walked over to grab his arm, to warn him that Tony was a crazy motherfucker, and you’d just go with him so Eddie wouldn’t get hurt.  

But Eddie motioned for you to hide, so you did.

“Hold up, man,” Eddie was moving now, heading to undo the deadbolt and you cringed, pushing back as tight as you could between the wall and the bathroom door.  

Once the door was unlocked, Tony stood there heaving, looking Eddie up and down.  Tony was big in a stocky way, but not big like Eddie, and he enjoyed that flash of fear that lit over his adversary’s eyes at first glance.  Sure, the guy had some obvious prison ink, but that didn’t mean shit to Eddie.  

“Where is she?” Tony demanded, pushing in.

“Where’s who, man?” Eddie was being so casual about it, and you were  trying not to scream.  

Eddie shut the door and quietly locked it behind him

Tony’s eyes darted around the room, and then he spun on his heel; his eyes were pinned and doped-out.  “Don’t act dumb, man.  My fucking girl.  Someone said they saw her come up here.”

Tony walked up to Eddie and started poking him in the chest.  “Tell me where that fucking whore is before I make you my bitch.”

Nothing could have prepared you for what happened next—for the transformation and the carnage.  You witnessed it all through the crack in the bathroom door as if you were watching a horror movie. 

Eddie changed, in an instant; the muscles in his shoulders and arms bulged, the teeth in his mouth turned jagged and sharp, and his eyes went completely black.  His massive, clawed hand wrapped around Tony’s throat, lifting him up so that his feet no longer touched the ground.

You muffle a scream with your hand, watching Tony gargle and spit, his limbs flailing.  

Eddie’s lips stretched to speak around his fangs.  “She’s not your girl anymore,” he growled.

Eddie strangled Tony with one hand  until he lost consciousness, and then he threw him to the bed like a rag doll, pouncing on top of him.  He proceeded to rip his throat open with his teeth; blood squirted on the wall and across the door where you were hiding, misting you in the face.  

When he was finished, you made your way out of the bathroom.

Eddie was still a monster as he got off the bed at the sight of your approach.  His clawed hands twitched at his sides, his hair dripped with blood, and his skin from nose to chest was bathed in crimson.  His black eyes assessed you, waiting for you to scream or try to run—-but you didn’t.

You got close enough to touch him, to run your hand up his chest to feel the blood between your fingers, and then brush some bloody hair behind his ear.

Eddie frowned, wondering why you weren’t afraid of him, wondering why your desire for him didn’t seem to falter.

You parted your lips, watching the red drool drip from his teeth.  “Are you okay?"

Your mouths found each other again, tasting the tang of your own blood as one of his fangs pricked your lip.  You each did frantic work of unzipping each other’s jeans as Eddie scooped you up to lay you on the floor.

While the last few pumps of blood shot from Tony’s artery, monster Eddie spilled his seed inside of you, throwing his head back with a howl.  

Now, there really had been a crime committed in that room, and Eddie would need to be on the road again, gone by daylight.  

Maybe this time, you’d be going with him.  

[hysteria-things]

THREE

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: chris doesn’t remember his promise, but you do.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLASHBACK, blood, crying, anxiety attack

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 750

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i don’t mean for these parts to be kinda short but it’ll get longer trust!

i wrote five things today my head HURTS SO BAD

spring break at last. the breeze hits when you get out of the minivan, little twelve-year-old you and the triplets go sprinting to the hockey rink that’s placed just outside of the playground.

marylou and jimmy were on pickup duty today for school, and because it’s friday, they took you guys to the park. your favorite place to go to with your best friends.

chris holds the rink gate open for you, and you sit down on the bench. the boys want to skate with you since you know how. you’re not as good as them, though. they’re naturals at this.

nick and matt put on their skates in seconds and go into the rink, while chris hands you his old ones that don’t fit him anymore but they do fit you. you slide them on and they fit like a glove, grunting when you struggle to get the clip on.

chris drops his left skate next to him. “let me do it.” he says, getting up from the bench with the single skate he has on and kneeling to help you.

you watch as he clips it; even tying the laces for you. you smile. “thanks.”

once his skates are secure, he joins his brothers. the three skate like mad around the rink as you slowly go around the rail, holding onto the wall from time to time.

once you get the hang of it, you feel confident enough to let go to move faster. you hear the cheers once you let go, rolling your eyes playfully.

chris makes sure to stay close enough to you just in case. you guys talk, not paying attention as much as you should…

because in seconds, a rock gets caught on your wheel and you fall forward onto the hard ground. “y/n!” chris exclaims in shock, skating to you and sitting on the ground.

“what happened?” matt asks, he and nick joining you guys on the ground.

tears spill out of your eyes, a huge cut on your leg. you’re bleeding nonstop, which doesn’t help the sobs leaving your lips.

you hate blood. whenever you see it you get severely lightheaded.

as in right now. you can’t help but stare at it, feeling dizzy the longer you do. you’re too busy staring you don’t realize the chatter around you, along with nick’s voice shouting from the playground. “mom, dad! y/n fell! she’s bleeding real bad!”

your breathing picks up. “ch-chris. it hurts— it’s ble-eding a lot.” you say between sobs.

“don’t look at it,” he replies calmly, taking your head and bringing it to his chest. his arm blocks the cut from your vision.

you close your eyes to try to catch your breath, and then you hear scurrying next to your ear. a bag plops on the floor, and matt pulls out his first aid kit.

no matter what, he always has one in his bag just in case.

it’s not deep to where you need stitches, but you got cut pretty good that it’ll definitely leave a scar.

matt lifts your leg onto his knee since he’s sitting criss-cross applesauce, taking a gauze out of a baggy. “matt’s going to put gauze on, okay? it might hurt a little.” chris says so you know what’s going on even though you can’t see.

you wince from the shock of pain, but the gauze does help with the bleeding. “now he’s going to put a big bandaid on.”

matt unwraps the bandaid, gently placing it on the cut. he tries his best to clean up as much blood as he can on your leg, but there’s a drop stain down your leg.

chris lets you go, and you glance down at the now-covered wound. you take three deep breaths just as their parents come rushing into the rink with nick. “oh dear.” marylou exclaims, coming over to help you off of the ground. “let’s get you home. you’re going to have to clean it as soon as you get there.”

chris switches places with his mother, lifting you slightly off of the ground so you don’t put as much pressure on your leg when you walk back to the car. matt and nick walk next to the two of you.

you’re more calm now, but your eyes are still red and puffy. “thank you guys for helping me.” you mumble.

chris smiles. “of course. we’ll always be here for you.”

you look at him in the eyes. “promise?”

“i promise.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog

[alien-magnolia]

Wife <3

Short fic/ description: domestics with your older!neighbor Eddie Munson, who you love with your whole heart!! Marriage is bliss.

Tw: d/s implied dynamics, major breeding/preg kink, family fluff, protective! Eddie Munson, dom-coded! Eddie Munson, sub-coded!Hyperfem reader!!

A/n: I think I might make this a series!

Your pink fingernails tapped on the pastel blue mixer as it mixed the eggs, flour, milk, baking soda and sugar together. You were baking a cake for the return of your beloved husband, Eddie. 

Although you were only twenty-three, he was thirty-five, and you first met him as you and your dad moved into Hawkins. Your dad and yourself came from a religious family, and you made sure to make room for G-d in your day to day life. 

Your very ‘trustworthy’ next door neighbor was exactly what you wished for. Your relationship grew, the two of you fell in love. Eddie Munson saved you in an way that G-d never would. He was your person, a person that was your home. 

You moved in next door with him only a few months after you began to date. A year after, a quiet and eloping wedding in the deep of the Hawkins woods, where you and Eddie swam in the creek naked afterwards, for hours on end. 

Here you were then, home-making, adding an earnest addition to the delicious dinner ready for your husband. You rub your belly, swollen with Eddie’s child, as you feel a cramp. Your unborn babe must have been kicking. 

You hear your Eds come through the door. Strong, fully tatted arms wrap around you, pulling you close. “How’s my beautiful girl today, huh?,” he asks, with a peck to your cheek, which turns into a long, tender kiss. “M’fine, my Eds. Just cramps.”

He gave you a look of pity, then leaning down to caress your heavy belly, heavy just for him. “How’s my son today, being nice to mommy?,” he chuckles, his hairy hand soothing the swollen stretch marks he gave you. 

Just a few months after marriage, the both of you had fulfilled your most primal urges <3 here he had, his young wife, all round and heavy with his child, he bred her to his heart’s content!! Oh, did you love being bred. You and your Eds tried for months, months, for a child. You were almost at full-term now, and how you loved carrying your husband’s seed all this time, feeling it grow inside you. 

You sigh, leaning into Eddie as his dark curls tickle your cheek, his beard feels scratchy as he buries his head into your neck. “Made dinner f’me, huh? Can’t wait, sweetheart. Go on, you rest on the couch and I’ll take care of you both.” You do as said, and how you loved being coddled by him. 

He brings you the dinner that you made, gives you a shoulder, neck, and belly rub , his muscles kneading your skin, you were completely putty in his hands. This was usually apart of your nightly routine. You would face the days worth of chores, pregnancy issues, and more. Eds would come home, feed you, calm you down, and then you were under his spell, wrapped around his tattooed finger (wedding ring tattoos instead of actual rings) all ready to be bred before the night would end. 

My happy, heavy wife, hmm?,” he’d say, after a massage. Daddy’s girl, carrying my seed, so fuckin’ good f’me.” At that point, you’d already be panting for him, watching his calloused fingers go up your thigh, squeezing the soft skin you had there.

The cross on the wall watches the both of you with searing contempt, as Eddie starts his ministrations elsewhere, between your legs, one hand gently rubbing your puffy and swollen clit <3 the other rests on your belly.

Sooner rather than later, he has you back up, legs spread, pounding you from behind while you scream, losing your mind at the feeling of his thick cock dragging along your walls, his veins pulsing, his balls softly teasing your puffy lips!!

You chant his name as if he were G-d himself! “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, was all you could think about, as his wide chest pressed down against your back, having his pregnant wife in a mating press, he finished in you. <3 

“You okay, sweets? Let me help you up, yeah?,” he smiles, that chivalrous, protective side of his always showing, growing even stronger for his wife, knowing there is more to protect now <3.

He adjusts you comfortably on the couch, you lay your head on his chest, fingers tracing his happy trail. You felt ever so happy, that warm trail of his seed dripping down your still pulsing walls. 

Evolution, biology, have run their course. Both you and Eddie succumbed to your most primal instinct. You were married, owned — pregnant, bred. He would die protecting his wife and unborn child.

The both of your wedding ring tattoos glistened in the light of the dim yellow bulb, covered by a white linen shade with ‘Garfield’ on it.

Gentle hands in larger ones, the both of you drift off to sleep, with Eddie’s hand still around your belly, loving you, cherishing your body.

[hairmetal666]

This post is full angst, so be warned!!

"I don't understand," Eddie says.

Steve sits at their kitchen table, hands in fists and jaw clenched. He won't meet Eddie's eyes.

"You heard me."

"I--are you saying you don't want to be together anymore?" Steve doesn't answer, and Eddie can't bear it. "Steve. Is that what you're saying to me right now?

The hard line of Steve's jaw tenses further. "I don't know. I don't know if we want the same things anymore."

He shakes his head, tightening his lips around the furious words that want to spill out. "I want those things. You know I want them too. Nothing has changed for me."

Steve scoffs, turns his face away. "Kids, a dog, the white picket fence, that's not you, Eddie."

Eddie's mad that this is happening here, now, but this at least brings a sliver of understanding. "Is this about what your dad said last night? Because, bab--"

"That has nothing to do with this. I don't care--"

"You do care, Steve, don't lie. Not about this."

"He's a homophobic prick, it doesn't matter."

Eddie sinks to his knees in front of his boyfriend. "It matters, of course it does. He's your dad, the things he does hurt--"

"Is he wrong?" Steve snarls with a vehemence that has Eddie stumbling back. "You can't give me kids or stability or--or normalcy."

Angry tears threaten now, but he blinks them away, has to stay calm has to figure out how to make this right. "I'm trying to give us that life, sweetheart. I'm sorry it's not gonna happen overnight."

Steve shakes his head. "How can we have that when you're never home?"

Eddie lets out a noise that doesn't know if it's a laugh or a sob. "Are you serious? How can you--You can't just--You want to do this now?" He settles on, eyes flicking to where his suitcases and guitar are in a pile at the door. The clock audibly ticks down to when he needs to leave to meet the guys, to go on the tour that could change their lives.

"When else would we do it?" Steve asks, and there's suddenly fire in his voice, a blaze in his eyes.

Fury makes him shake enough that his teeth snap together. "I've been home for two weeks, Steve. We've had thirteen days to talk about this, and you pick an hour before I leave for three months?"

"You're always leaving, Eddie, that's the whole problem!"

"Yeah, so I can give you that life you're so desperate for! This is our ticket out of here."

"It's your ticket! It has nothing to do with me."

Eddie stands, so angry he thinks he might throw up. This isn't the first time they've had this fight, far from it, but they agreed--they agreed. "You said," Eddie's voice shakes. 'You said you wanted me to do this. That it was important to you. I told you what it would be like, that it would be hard, and you, you--" If he speaks anymore it will be a scream.

Steve is crying now, silent tears dashing down his face. "You know how many days you've been home in the last year, Ed?" He can't answer, hides his face in his hands. "One-hundred and fifteen. I might as well not even have a boyfriend, at this point."

"Don't say that," Eddie chokes. "Don't you dare. This is for you. For us."

"Nothing is for me!" Steve yells.

"Everything is!" Eddie shouts back. He's pulling at his shirt, like he's trying to bare his whole heart to the only man he's every loved. "Every song we record, every show we play, every tour we go on, is for you, Steve. Everything I do is for you!"

Silence rings through their kitchen, until Steve's soft, emotion broken voice, asks. "What if it's not enough?"

He does sob at that, can't hold in any longer. "Are you done with me?"

Steve doesn't answer, buries his face in his arms.

"Steve. Say it. Tell me we're over."

Still, Steve doesn't answer.

Eddie doesn't speak again. He crosses to the door, gathers his bags, his guitar, his keys and wallet. Doesn't bother to look back to where Steve sits, can't stand it, opens the front door.

It's the squeak of the hinges that finally drives Steve to speak. "Are you coming back?"

Eddie tilts his head, opens his mouth but closes it again before he says something he'll regret for the rest of his life.

He walks out, the door slamming into it's frame behind him.

[sanguineterrain]

no other will do - e.m.

Summary: You're home from college for the holidays. Eddie's playing a show and he wants you to be there. How can you say no to the boy you've been in love with since freshman year?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings/tags: mean girl who is jealous of reader, friends to lovers, absolutely lovesick eddie. this man is so in love with you!!!

Eddie's waiting in front of the gate when you come out. 

You'd honestly believed you'd convinced him not to come. Five times on the phone you had told him he didn't need to. It's a long drive from Hawkins to O'Hare International Airport. You're on break, Eddie's probably busy; there's no way you'd expect him to spend a day chauffeuring you to town. 

But there's his van. 

Eddie is not dressed properly, despite it being November, clad in a leather jacket and jeans. His hair is tied back in a ponytail. You're struck with the urge to run over and kiss him. 

No! No. Bad Y/N. You'd gone to college four states away for a reason. Yes, it had the program you wanted and branching out of Hawkins was necessary. But more importantly, it gave you ample space to get over your longtime crush on your best friend. 

Mission failed, obviously. 

"Eddie," you call weakly, waving. 

He looks up and his face splits into a grin. Eddie meets you halfway to the van, taking your suitcase. 

"I distinctly remember telling you not to pick me up from O'Hare," you say, following him to the car. 

"How long have we been friends?" Eddie asks. "You should know by now that anything you tell me not to do, I'll do it."

"So if I had asked you to pick me up, you wouldn't have?" 

Eddie pretends to think about it. 

"Hmm. Nope. I'd still be here. Gotta make sure Hawkins' princess arrives safely."

He loads your suitcase and closes the door. Then he turns to you, beaming. Your heart does a flip-flop.

"Missed ya, sweets," he says softly.

"I missed you too, Eds."

He pulls you into a hug and you melt. Eddie’s warm and smells like that familiar spicy cologne you’ve been homesick for for the last three months. All the promises you'd made yourself about not getting soft and dumb for Eddie Munson fly out the window. You're hopeless. And he doesn't even know it. 

He releases you and opens the passenger-side door for you, then gets in on the other side. 

"This is pretty," Eddie says, turning the ignition. 

He tugs on the hem of your green knitted sweater. 

"Oh." You swallow. "Thanks. It's new, I got it at a shop near school. They have a guitar store, you know?" 

"Yeah? Did you go inside and wow them with your knowledge about heavy metal?" 

"No," you giggle. "I'd never look at guitars without you. 'S sacrilegious."

“Sacrilegious, huh? Am I some kinda guitar god?” Eddie grins.

“I’m not gonna answer that and blow up your already giant ego.”

“Ego! That’s it. Outta the van, princess.”

“No chance,” you say, clicking your seatbelt. “Royalty deserves proper treatment.”

“You called my bluff,” he sighs. “I have a hard rule about never kicking pretty girls out of my van.”

You turn to look out the window so Eddie won’t see your reaction to that. He starts the car and pulls out of the pickup zone. 

“Hey, so,” he says. “Speaking of guitar gods, we, uh… got a gig.”

You snap your head back. 

“You did? Where?” 

“It’s called Excalibur, ‘bout twenty minutes from Hawkins. Kinda feels like a sign,” he chuckles.

“A paying gig? Eddie, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you,” you gush.

Eddie’s suddenly shy, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Really?”

“Of course I am. I always believed in you. If anybody can be a rockstar, it’s you.”

Eddie glances at you, then back at the road. He seeks out your wrist and squeezes. He might as well be squeezing your heart.

“Thanks, princess,” he says fondly. “Well, so, what I wanted to ask is: will you come? I’d get you in for free, obviously.”

“Eddie, it’s a business—”

“That can afford me bringing a plus one,” he finishes with a wink. “Non-negotiable.”

“You want me to come? I’m not exactly heavy metal.” 

“Of course I want you to come, sweet thing. You’re my best friend and you’ve supported me from the start. I know it ain’t your scene, but you don’t have to stay the whole time! We’ll probably go eat afterwards and you can meet the others.”

“Others?” you ask.

“Yeah, well, since we got booked, we’ve been scoping out the place. We met this other band, Birds of Prey. The lead singer, Missy, she’s cool. Real Janis Joplin vibes, y’know?”

“Oh.” Missy. Of course Eddie had met a girl. You couldn't expect him to just not. Eddie’s a sweet guy. Funny. Handsome. Love of your life. Et cetera. 

“So you’ve met a lot of… girls?”

Eddie glances at you and shrugs.

“Some.”

“Like on dates?”

Shutupshutup. Eddie’s too clever for you to be asking direct questions like that. You might as well hang a neon sign around your neck that says jealous!

He laughs. 

“I’m really not the kinda guy people go on dates with, angel.”

Which is not true. At all. If you can figure out Eddie’s a winner, any girl with a half a brain can do the same. But you don’t tell him that, because you’re selfish and pathetic. 

“I want to go,” you say instead. 

Eddie lights up. “Great! Oh, awesome. It’ll be a bitchin' show, promise.”

“I don’t doubt it.” 

Eddie seeks out your hand, rubbing your knuckles. You smile despite the acute feeling you’re sealing your doom. 

Friday comes fast. You spend most of your time before Eddie's show agonizing over why you love tormenting yourself. Then he rings you up and asks if you'll come over for a pre-show soiree. And because you're a sucker for Eddie Munson, you say yes. 

You've been to the trailer before. It's not strange at all for you to be here. Wayne knows you well. But for some reason, this feels different. When you saw Eddie everyday, you could pretend. His constant proximity was normal then. Now, after three months apart, you're a lovesick calf. It's just like when you'd first realized your crush on Eddie back in freshman year. You'd been an absolute mess and it'd nearly cost your friendship.

You've sworn not to make that mistake again. 

Eddie’s room currently looks like a tornado ran through it. Clothes are strewn everywhere. You dodge a flying bandana from your place on the bed as he continues to rifle through his closet.

"Eds," you sigh. "Does it really matter what you wear?" 

"Of course! It's a statement."

"But the whole point of metal is to not care," you say. “Come back so I can do your other hand.”

Eddie obeys. He kneels one leg on the bed and sticks his unpainted hand out. He’s got a bit of black kohl around his eyes and brand new spiked boots. You make sure not to look at his face for too long so you don’t do something really stupid. 

You laser in on Eddie's fingernails, carefully painting them with black nail polish. He holds his breath every time you get close, still as a statue. 

"Actually, the point of metal is to protest societal structures you don't agree with, like the government,” he says. “Metalheads definitely care if you're not dressed for a concert."

“But I thought everything in your wardrobe is metal.”

“Yeah, but—” Eddie gestures to his Metallica tank top. “This isn’t concert metal. I have a reputation, y’know.”

“Well, I’m not dressed for a Corroded Coffin concert either,” you reason. “I don’t own anything metal.”

You’d tried, for the record. You'd found a charcoal gray sweater and black tights. That’s about as close to metal as you can manage.

“That’s okay, princess. You’re so pretty, you don’t need to wear proper attire. I, on the other hand, need to look like I eat souls for breakfast.”

You cap the polish. Eddie thinks you're pretty.

“Okay, done. Don’t smear it.”

Eddie wiggles his fingers with a grin.

“You’re a doll. What if I pair this with my jacket? Or wait! What about my torn black jeans?"

Eddie gets up, hands poised delicately. He stops at his closet and pouts. 

"I'll ruin your hard work," he frowns. "D'you mind helping me look mean and scary?"

You get up with a smile. 

"Impossible. You could never be mean and scary."

"Way to crush a guy's dreams, princess."

You shrug. "Somebody has to tell you."

You gently push through Eddie’s “clean pile.” You pick up a leather jacket and a torn sleeveless top that says Devil’s Advocate.

“What about this one? You look nice in this one,” you say, holding it up to him.

“Nice? I can’t look nice! I’m not going to prom, Y/N.”

You sigh.

“Fine. You look mean and scary. Straight from the Underworld. Satan himself. Better?”

Eddie shivers exaggeratedly, grinning.

“Getting me hot under the collar with that talk, princess.”

“Shut it,” you huff, throwing the jacket at him to hide your fluster.

Eddie squawks, dodging the jacket. He wiggles his fingers.

“They’re drying!”

“I’m pretty sure they’re dry now, Eds.”

“We really can’t be so sure, can we?” 

You get up with a sigh. 

“I am not taking your shirt off, Eddie.”

“Well, ouch, princess.” 

He shrugs and in a second, pulls his shirt off. You immediately turn, looking up at the ceiling.

“Jeez,” Eddie says behind you. “‘M not gonna blind you. They show male chests on MTV, y’know.”

“I’m giving you privacy,” you say, face hot. “Now hurry up. You don’t wanna be late.”

You peek, just for a second, and catch a glimpse of pale, freckled skin and a line of hair that disappears under his jeans. Nope, nope. You are not going down that rabbit hole of thought.

“Can you at least help with the jacket?” he asks.

“I suppose.”

You take the jacket and bring it behind him. Eddie sticks his arms through, never breaking eye contact.

“Good?” you check.

“Perfect, sweet thing.”

You frown at the jeans he’s chosen.

“Eddie, those have holes.”

“Yes, dear, I know. I made ‘em.”

“It’s November! You can’t wear clothing with holes.”

Eddie beams, eyes scrunching. You cross your arms.

“What?”

“Nothin’,” he says. “‘S just nice you care so much ‘bout me not getting sick. You really are a sweet thing.”

“Well, I don’t want you to be sick over my visit.”

“Purely selfish reasons, huh? Tsk tsk.” Eddie shakes his head.

“No! I just—wanna spend time together,” you say. “And we can’t do that if you’re sick.”

“Alright, alright. What if I wear my lightly torn jeans? ‘S that fair?”

Eddie steps away from you, beginning to undo his belt. You panic.

“Uh, yeah, yep! Fine! I’ll go start the car.”

You scurry down the hall and grab Eddie’s keys. You get into the van. By the time Eddie comes out, the car’s already warmed up. He wears jeans that have significantly less rips. Eddie puts his guitar in the back, then gets into the driver's seat. He smiles at you.

“Aw, look at you, keepin’ my seat warm.”

“Because you have the blood circulation of a vampire,” you reply with an eye roll.

“Vampire and the princess. Now there’s an underrated literary trope.”

Eddie looks at you a moment more. Then he seems to make a decision, sliding off the cross on his middle finger and putting it on your left ring finger. Your eyes widen.

“Eddie—”

“For luck,” he says.

“But… I’m not playing.”

“I know.” He shrugs. “But if I know you’re wearing my ring, well, I gotta make you proud. Don’t wanna be an embarrassment while you’ve got my ring on.”

“Oh, Eds. I am proud. You’re doing it.”

Eddie gives you the softest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Thanks, sweet thing.”

“You’re welcome. Now you really have to drive, Eddie. You’ve got a half an hour till your show starts.”

He checks his watch.

“Shit! Alright, hold onto something. We’re cutting this twenty minute trip down to ten.”

Eddie ends up making some questionable driving advances. Halfway through, you question if you should’ve gotten into the car with him. But you get there on time. 

Eddie ushers you out. 

“Eddie, just go, it’s okay. I can find my way inside.”

“Oh, absolutely not, princess. This crowd is rougher than The Hideout’s. Plus, I gotta get you in somehow. C’mon, pretty girl.”

Eddie keeps his guitar in one hand and you in the other. You’re practically glued to his side as he corrals you both to the back entrance. 

“Hey, Sal.” Eddie waves at the bouncer parked at the door. “Everybody’s inside?”

“Sure is. You’re on in ten. Better hurry.”

“Thanks. This is Y/N. She’s with me.” Eddie nods to you. 

“No guests, Munson,” Sal frowns. 

“Watch it, Sal,” Eddie pushes back. “She’s not a guest. She’s my girl. Came all the way from college to see me. Y’mind? We’re on a tight schedule.”

Sal looks at you. You hope he doesn’t ask questions; you have all the speaking ability of a fish right now. 

“Hmm. Fine. No tricks.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Eddie grins, tugging you through the entrance.

“You lied to him,” you whisper when you’re far enough away. “Eddie—”

“Sweet thing, what was I supposed to say? Had to get you in. And I didn’t lie, okay? You did come from college and you are my girl. Only girl I’ve got, right?”

“But… you made it sound like we’re—”

“Dude!” Gareth hisses. “Where the fuck have you been?”

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Chill, Gare-Bear. We’ve got time. Where’s Jeff?”

“Bathroom. Hi, Y/N.”

You wave shyly.

“Hey, Gareth. Cool chain.”

Gareth gives Eddie a look. You don’t know what it means, but whatever it does makes Eddie’s cheeks redden. He turns to you and squeezes your waist.

“I gotta go. Stay in the front so I can see you, ‘kay?”

“Why? Afraid I’ll run?”

“Nah,” he grins. “Just rather look at your pretty face instead of these ugly mugs.” 

“Hey!” Gareth huffs.

“Eddie…” you tut. “Be nice.”

“Not nice. Mean and scary.” 

He makes Devil horns with his fingers and sticks out his tongue. You giggle.

“See you after,” you say. “Good luck!”

And with that, you brave the crowd. Immediately, you feel out of place.

You’ve been to Eddie’s shows before at The Hideout. But this crowd is bigger and definitely a more intense scene than Hawkins. Most of the crowd is already drunk, or at least buzzed. They’re loud with excitement and unaware of their surroundings. You focus on not getting pummeled and on finding a seat up front like Eddie’d told you.

A group of girls push past you. The ringleader knocks into your shoulder and gives you a dirty look. She has long, dyed purple hair and black makeup. Her features are striking and perfect for the atmosphere. You wish you could fit in like she does, at least for Eddie’s performance. You’re starting to feel like you might be the embarrassment tonight.

“Watch it,” she snaps. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, and grab a seat.

Thankfully, nobody else bothers you. It’s only another minute before the lights dim. The first band is clearly very popular, judging by the howling cheers they get. Their frontman is covered head to toe in tattoos. You make a note of a green dragon inked on his neck. Eddie will like that one a lot. 

You do your best to match the energy in the room, despite not knowing many songs. Eddie’s played a few bands for you, but since metal isn’t really your thing, you’re lost when it comes to the less well-known bands.

After the opening act finishes, you see a curly head of hair poke out of the curtains. Eddie searches for you. You wave and he finds you then, giving you a big smile.

“Having fun?” he yells.

“Tons!” you shout back.

He gives you a thumbs-up and disappears backstage. The curtains part.

“And now, Birds of Prey!”

The group of girls who’d bumped into you step onstage. You clap lightly and stay seated. Their lead singer, the purple-haired woman, gets to the microphone. Missy. 

“You guys ready to hear some real music?” she laughs.

The crowd screams.

“Good!” 

They launch into Enter Sandman. Missy has a perfect voice for it, raw and raspy. You prefer Eddie’s voice, sweet and low. He always complains it’s not metal enough. You’re sympathetic but you secretly love that Eddie can croon, if he really wants to. Sometimes he does, when he’s had a beer or two and is sleepy with affection. Then he’ll sing along to Wayne’s Buddy Holly records. Your very own Eddie Munson exclusive.

Bird of Prey finish after a couple songs. You politely clap with the crowd. 

“And now, something fresh!” the emcee announces. “Corroded Coffin!”

You jump from your seat, clapping excitedly. The band comes out. Eddie dances around the stage, hyping up the crowd. They eat it up. Eddie’s born to perform.

His eyes find yours and he blows a kiss. You shake your head. After all these years, Eddie still flusters you better than anybody.

“Those ladies before us were pretty dope, huh?” Eddie asks the crowd.

They scream their agreement. He grins. 

“Hope you guys like Ozzy.”

Eddie is beautiful. He plays guitar like it’s an extension of himself. Everyone else is yelling to the lyrics, nearly drowning out the sound. You can only stand and stare. You probably look ridiculous gawking at them. But oh, well. You love Eddie Munson. If you look like a fool, so be it.

Jeff closes their performance. The crowd goes wild with applause.

You go backstage before the next band goes up; once the lights go down, it’ll be impossible to navigate the crowd. Backstage is thrumming with energy. You spot Birds of Prey first. Missy locks eyes with you. She struts to you, brow raised. You draw your shoulders back, braced for a fight.

“Princess!” 

Eddie drapes himself over you like it’s been years since you’ve seen him as opposed to forty-five minutes. You hug him back, tearing your gaze from Missy.

“Hi, Eds,” you say.

“Hi, sweet thing!” 

He squeezes you hard, curls tickling your cheek. Ah, yes. This is why you’re here.

“You were amazing,” you gush. “Really, really wonderful, Eds.”

Eddie looks like you’ve just told him he won ten million dollars.

“You really think so?” he asks. “Not just pumping my ego, are you?”

“No, Eddie. I loved it. Especially the Dio one.”

He grins.

“Oh, I know. Saw you dancing, pretty.”

“Stooop,” you whine. “Don’t make fun of me, Eds.”

“I’d never. You’re the best dancer there, angel.”

“Yo, Munson!”

One of the performers waves at Eddie.

“We’re heading out! C’mon.”

“Yeah, Eddie,” Missy coos. She looks at you. “Bring your friend too.”

Your stomach twists. Eddie turns to you.

“Hungry?”

“Oh, um… sure. Where are we going?”

“This burger joint. ‘S not far. I’ve been there loads of times.”

“With Missy?”

Eddie gives you a funny look.

“Sometimes her band comes. Wanna check it out?”

You don’t want to be a drag. Eddie is genuinely excited, hopped up on adrenaline. The rest of the band will be there too. It’s not fair to make him take you home.

“Okay,” you say, trying to smile. “Sure, Eds. Sounds great.”

Missy, luckily, takes another car. So it’s just you and Corroded Coffin in Eddie’s van. Jeff and Gareth chatter about the show and songs they should play next. You’re in the front seat, because Eddie always has you sit up front no matter who’s in the car.

“Eds?” you ask.

“Hm?”

“Are you, uh… h-how well do you know the bands that played tonight?”

Nice. Subtlety +100.

“The first guys who performed, Black Tar? Not that well. Their frontman, Beetle, he’s kind of a legend at Excalibur.”

“With the dragon tattoo?”

“That’s him. Staring at other guys’ tattoos, huh?”

“Actually, I was thinking the dragon would look much better on you, Eds.”

Eddie grins. 

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm.” 

“I have been thinking of getting a new one. You haven’t chosen a tat for me since freshman year. High time we continue the tradition.”

“I think a blue dragon would look cool,” you say. “On your back or something.”

“My back? But then no one would see it, sweet thing.”

“I’d know it’s there.”

Eddie laughs.

“Would you come with me to get it?”

“Of course,” you say. “I always do. Even when you got your bats from that skeevy guy at The Hideout.”

“Now Bill was a nice dude and dirt cheap. ‘Sides, my arm didn’t turn green, did it?”

“Thank God,” you huff.

“Always worrying about me, sweet thing.”

“Somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t wreak havoc on unsuspecting Hawkins.”

Eddie pulls into the parking lot of Brey’s Beef. Big deals on big beef! the sign reads. Your chest tightens at the sight of Missy and her band inside. Eddie reaches for your hand and squeezes.

“Ready?”

“Yeah, yeah. Ready.”

Eddie opens your door and you curse how sweet he is and how in love you are. 

Brey’s is a tiny burger shop that looks like it time-traveled here from the 50s. You go with Eddie to the counter and study the menu boards while you wait in line.

“Their milkshakes are to die for,” Eddie whispers in your ear. 

“To die for, huh? Munson approved?”

“One hundred percent.”

You order a cheeseburger and a strawberry milkshake. Eddie orders an ungodly creation called The Demon and a mint chocolate milkshake. You make a face.

“Hope you like your toothpaste shake,” you snort.

“Mint chocolate is superior,” Eddie shoots back and pulls out his wallet.

“Eds, wait—”

“No, no,” he says, pushing your coin purse aside. “I’m paying.”

“Eddie, no, c’mon…”

“Who got paid tonight?” Eddie asks, shaking his wallet. “Lemme treat you, princess. ‘S not like I get to do it much this year.”

Eddie pays and scoots you to the condiment counter. You sigh, shoving your coin purse back in your coat.

“Eds, I would’ve paid. You should save that money.”

“‘S okay, sweet thing. You’re worth it.”

God, how can he just say those things? He has to know what they do to you, doesn’t he?

“I’ll wait for the food, ‘kay? You can sit down.”

You glance at where the others are and try to hide your grimace. 

“Okay, Eds. Thanks.”

You take the seat at the end of the table. Missy and her band are in the middle, heavily flirting with the Black Tar members. As soon as she spots you, she stops. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

“So,” she says. “This is the famous Hawkins Princess I’ve heard so much about.”

“Just Y/N is fine,” you mumble.

She laughs and tosses her hair over her shoulder.

“Didn’t know Eddie hung out with your sort.”

“My sort?”

“Y’know.” She gestures. “Normie. Uptight. Did you even know any of the songs tonight?”

“Some of them. Eddie’s played Dio and Sabbath for me.” You turn to Beetle. “Your opening number was a really cool cover. Judas Priest, right?”

Beetle winks at you. “Hell yeah it was. Thanks, Hawkins.”

Missy sneers.

“Well, you know how to pretend, I’ll give you that. I’m surprised, though.” She turns to her friend. “Remember when that one townie wandered in? How embarrassing.”

Her friend giggles. 

“Oh, yeah. He was so jumpy too. God, what a freak.”

The word makes you feel sick.

“Eddie thought it was hilarious too,” Missy adds. She looks at you. “I guess metal’s not for everyone.”

“Lay off, Miss,” Beetle says. “Don’t be an ass.”

“I’m not!” she squeals. “I’m just saying, y’know, people should stay in their lane.”

“Eddie says metal is for everybody,” you say, stronger than you feel.

“Of course he’d tell you that,” she scoffs. “And then you’ll go back to college for six months and he’ll forget all about you. Eddie’s not gonna want somebody holding him down, duchess.”

And that does it. You can’t take anymore. You’ll apologize to Eddie in the morning for walking out but right now, you’re tired. If this is the girl Eddie wants, you won’t fight. 

Missy whines after you, syrupy venom sinking into your brain. 

“Running already, queenie?” she mocks.

Eddie told you once there’s no shame in running. He said taking shit isn’t heroic. If you can, leave. So you do.

It’s windy and freezing. You know it has to be midnight at least. November nights in Hawkins aren’t known to be mild. You pull your jacket tighter around your shoulders and walk down the sidewalk. Maybe you can hail a cab or something.

Something wet hits your cheek. You wipe away the tear. Another falls, then another.

“Y/N, angel? Wait up!”

Eddie catches your bicep, tugging you around to face him. Fuck. You’ve never been good at lying to Eddie. He can see right through you. You have to think of something. 

“Sweet thing, why are you crying?” Eddie pulls up his sleeve and brushes your tears. He looks devastated. “Princess, please don’t cry. Who did this? Tell me, I’ll make sure they don’t bother you again.”

And you can’t help it. The name falls out.

“Missy,” you gasp. 

Eddie’s immediately confused.

“Wh—Missy? She made you cry?”

You nod, sniffling pitifully. This is not how tonight should’ve gone. 

“What the fuck,” he snaps, and you flinch. This is it; this is where Eddie chews you out for starting drama with the girl of his dreams.

“Oh,” Eddie whispers, eyes wide. “No, no, ‘m sorry. Not mad at you, babe. Sorry, sorry. I just—fuckin’ cannot believe she made you cry. How shitty can you get?”

“I shouldn’t be crying,” you say. “I shouldn’t, it’s stupid, I just—”

“Hey, hey.” Eddie pulls you into a hug, rubs your back in slow circles. “Stop it. Don’t say it’s stupid. If it made you upset, it’s not stupid.”

“I know you like her,” you cry into his shoulder. “I don’t mean to ruin that, I—”

“Whoa, what? Sweet thing, Missy’s just another singer. We’re not betrothed or anything.”

“But you said—over the summer—”

“Yeah, we got to know each other. But she’s just part of the scene. And there’s a bajillion people like that. She’s nothing special, princess, no way. She definitely doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

“But she is metal. And I’m not. And I’m gonna go back to school soon and you’re gonna find somebody who knows all of Dio’s albums and plays Dungeons and isn’t scared of getting tattoos or piercings or—”

“Y/N,” Eddie says. “I don’t care about any of that. You could religiously listen to the Hot 100 like Harrington does, whatever. Doesn’t matter. Won’t change the fact that I’m crazy about you. Nobody’s got my heart but you.”

Eddie freezes. Slowly, you draw back to meet his gaze.

“You’re crazy about me?”

He gnaws the inside of his cheek, looking everywhere but you.

“I, uh… y-yeah. I am.”

You hold on tighter because it feels like Eddie might try to back up first so you won’t have to push him away.

“I’m crazy about you too,” you confess.

Eddie’s eyes go big as dinner plates.

“Me?”

“There’s never been anybody but you,” you inform with delight.

Eddie’s smile is sweet and a little bashful. He surges forward, hands landing on your hips. You put your arms around his neck.

“Kiss me, Eds?”

“Anything for you, sweet thing.”

Eddie is gentle. He moves his arms up, trying to block you from the wind chill. You play with the ends of his curls. It’s everything you’ve wanted since freshman year and more. Eddie’s warm and everywhere. You feel him smile against your lips.

“Told ya you’re my girl,” he murmurs.

You smile softly. 

“Sap.”

“Oh, I mean, uh—” Eddie clears his throat. “You’re my girl in a mean and scary way.”

“Very convincing.”

“Thanks, baby. Wanna get outta here?”

You frown at the windows. 

“I kinda wanted to try those Munson-approved burgers.”

“Oh! Shit, hold on.” 

He hands you the keys and runs inside. You turn on the van, cranking the heat to four. Eddie flits from the counter to the table. He says something to Missy she does not look happy about. You wiggle giddily in your seat.

Eddie returns shortly. You roll down the window so he can give you the food and shakes. Then he gets into the car, blowing hot air into his hands.

“I hope you didn’t start a fight with Missy,” you frown.

“I just told her to stay the hell away from us.” Eddie shrugs. “Turns out Beetle chewed her out plenty.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh, yeah. You made quite the impression.” Eddie grins and nudges you. “You’re more metal than me, sweet thing. Gareth and Jeff are getting a ride back with him.”

You grimace. 

“I guess they weren’t too happy about us ditching them.”

“Nah, they were understanding. Told them I wanted to take my girlfriend home.”

You laugh, warmth flooding you.

“Oh, really. And what did they say to that?”

Eddie grins.

“‘It’s about damn time.’”

[lookinglass-fic]

A bit personal, and also cw/tw for mentions of suicide/suicidal ideation//

I lost my best friend to suicide two years ago. And I can't lie, the themes in OFMD season 2 are hitting hard. Ed is definitely my comfort character, and I love him so much and just want good and nice things for him and want him to be happy.

The sucide themes are... heart-rendingly accurate and make total sense, in ways that I feel certain that someone(s) in the writing team and/or crew have had experiences with this particular thing.

It's bringing up a lot of grief and some unearthed trauma for me, I think. But I think it's also a great opportunity to talk about what you can recognize in friends and loved ones who might be having ideation.

In re-watching episode 2, I noticed some things. The day after the cake topper incident, the morning where Ed tells Frenchie, "I had a very rough night last night, but I think I got all of the poison out of my system," he's cleaning up the cabin. He's cleaned himself up. He's chipper. It's the same morning he gives the gun to Izzy, the same night that he goads the crew into killing him.

And please note, I am not an expert. I'm not a psychologist or therapist, I'm not qualified to dole out real advice. I've just become... intimately familiar with warning signs of suicide the past few years after joining some support groups and being part of discussions and hearing dozens upon dozens of stories from the people left behind. And this is just advice from one human being to others who might need to hear it.

People who have long-term ideation can tend to have a sudden upswing in the day or two immediately preceding death, and it's because they've made the decision to go ahead with it.

My friend had seemed to be getting better. He was chipper, sending photos of things he liked and generally texting/calling people in a cheerful mood. The day it happened, he was on a hike sending me pictures of rabbits and magpies.

If your loved one is going through an incredibly rough patch and has a sudden upswing in mood, if they start cleaning up by giving things away or making big changes, it's time to check in. It's time to find a way to break through to them and see if there's anything at all you can do to stop them from going through with it.

This show brings so much attention to so many things, and they get so many things right. I'm in a kind of a weird mental place right now just because this is bringing up a lot of feelings for me, but it's only because it's so accurate and hits so close to home. If this can help even one person, then it's worth me being weird on the internet about it.

And for anybody out there struggling... just find one thing. Just one thing to keep you here until tomorrow. Just one thing to stay for. Warmth. Food. Intercourse. Anything. Just please stay.

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 8th: Rockstar | Times Like These - Foo Fighters | Confident a/n: rockstar!eddie & corroded coffin. steddie. suggestive themes but not explicit. un-betaed because I’m challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 | link to masterpost on ao3

When Eddie was a teenager, he pictured himself on stage, surrounded by pyrotechnics and aggressive bass riffs. His hair was long, his skin mottled in tattoos with maybe a love bruise or two, and his favorite ruby red guitar slung low to his hips as he belts his vocals into the microphone. 

All but the last part comes true. 

He does end up sweaty from the heat of the fire cannons on either side of their set. Freak shreds his bass every fucking show, his fingers undoubtedly calloused beyond repair. Eddie’s hair gets in his face as he plays his own guitar, his Sweetheart, but he doesn’t get to sing. 

That’s all Steve. 

Unassuming, surprisingly talented Steve Harrington who Eddie discovers can fucking sing when he’s home from a tour, driving around together through the empty streets of Hawkins, Indiana. The 90s bring a new landscape to heavy metal and rock and roll, and as cocky as Eddie might be, as confident as he is when it comes to his music, he can see when someone has one up on him. Steve’s rendition of The Foo Fighters’ Good Grief as he drums along on the steering wheel sets his heart aflame– and maybe another appendage that he’s tried to ignore for the better part of ten years. 

Steve agrees to join the band with a heavy bit of convincing, agreeing only when Eddie offers to retain his role as frontman.

I don’t wanna be a rockstar, Ed. That’s all you. 

The band truly takes off when Steve joins, his voice adding a different flavor and Eddie’s backing vocals rounding out their sound. Eddie tells Steve night after night, show after show, that he’s happy he’s there, because he is. Maybe being in love with his bandmate hadn’t part of the teenage fantasy, but it’s become his favorite part of the reality, even if it’s one-sided or unrequited. His skin remains unbruised, no groupies or flings to be found, but he’d prefer a blank canvas over meaningless artistry anyways. 

They end up touring again, exploring the country and parts of Canada together but always with different hotel rooms. Eddie never minds sharing with Gareth, or Jeff, or Freak but he also doesn’t make a habit of thinking about their dicks. 

After their show in Toronto, the end of this leg of their tour, Eddie and the rest of the band celebrate in Eddie’s room– it’s the biggest of their block and Eddie won rock-paper-scissors to claim the lone room this time around. 

Drinks flow, smoke from their joints curl out the window screen into the night, and before Eddie realizes it’s happened, he’s left alone with Steve.

Steve, who hasn’t had a thing to drink and only a few puffs of his joint, but is laying across the bed with his feet crossed at the ankles and his head resting in Eddie’s lap anyways. Steve, who Eddie listens to as he hums the melody of their encore and whose hair he can’t help but thread through his fingers. Steve, who Eddie has been watching night after night sing the words Eddie’s written himself, some of which are about Steve. 

It’s a dangerous position to be in. 

“Gettin’ tired yet, Harrington?” Eddie asks, grinning as Steve rolls his eyes. 

“Oh, we’re back to Harrington now, Munson?” 

Eddie just shrugs and continues playing with Steve’s hair. It’s soft, still damp from his shower, and Eddie’s surprised he hasn’t shoved him off yet with some comment about how he’s gonna fuck it up. But he doesn’t, and Eddie doesn’t know what to make of that. 

“You’re awfully quiet,” Steve asks, shifting his gaze from the ceiling to Eddie’s eyes. “It’s weird.” 

“I contain multitudes, don’t try to make me some one-dimensional agent of chaos.” 

Steve laughs and it’s better than any song Eddie’s ever written. And he’s written some damn good songs, if he does say so himself. 

Eddie lets out a little oof as Steve sits up, bracing himself on Eddie’s stomach to turn and face him. There’s something in Steve’s expression that Eddie can’t place– searching eyes, furrowed brows, one corner of his lips quirked up. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“You just did.” 

“God, you’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?” 

“I do, actually. But yeah, go ahead.” Eddie bites his bottom lip and shrugs.

“How come you never wanna share a room with me?” 

Eddie just about chokes on nothing, inhaling oxygen into the wrong pipe or something. His ears turn red, a tell that no amount of shaking his hair out can hide, at least not from Steve. He feels the soft skin of Steve’s hand graze his cheek as he tucks hair back behind his right ear, exposing the bright red shade of embarrassment. 

“Is it me? I can’t imagine that I, Steve Harrington, make you, big ol’ Rockstar Eddie Munson, uncomfortable after all these years.” 

You motherfucker, Eddie thinks, his mouth a little behind the speed of his thoughts, effectively leaving him speechless. 

“Little bit, actually,” Eddie manages to admit. 

He shouldn’t admit anything, but he’s alone in this quiet room with the boy he’s loved for so many years, who’s touching him like he loves him, too. Who can blame him?

“How come?” Steve whispers, his lips suddenly closer, their noses nearly touching. Eddie may or may not be breathing, but he tries. Fainting would definitely kill whatever this energy is between them. 

“Ed, c’mon. Just, just tell me you want me, too. Please.” 

Too? He thinks.

“Too?” He asks.

Steve smiles and nods, running his thumb across Eddie’s chapped lower lip before resting his palm against his cheek. 

“Too.” 

—

The following morning, Eddie and Steve meet up with the rest of the band in the hotel restaurant for breakfast– or, well, brunch at best given the time they actually make it downstairs. 

“Notice you stayed in Eddie’s room last night,” Jeff asks, one eyebrow raised halfway up his forehead as his eyes flit back and forth from Steve to the very clear, purpling bruise on Eddie’s collarbone. 

“Astute observation,” Eddie grins and answers for him, digging into the stack of pancakes in front of him, ravenous. 

“Sure did,” Steve just grins, shrugging as he shifts in his seat. 

Gareth, Freak, and Jeff all exchange a look, the kind of look that comes with inside jokes and long-suffering waiting. 

“Wait–” Steve starts, pointing an accusing finger at Jeff. “You all left early on purpose, didn’t you?”

Gareth laughs the hardest, rivaled only by Eddie who watches them all with incredulity as Jeff parrots Steve with casual confidence. 

“Sure did.”