#eddie munson x latine! reader

[gravedigginbbydoll]

Me thinking about Eddie’s very white Midwest raised ass loving a Latine person and being sooooo confused at some of the cultural norms like

“Babe, why do we wash the dishes in the sink before we put them in the dishwasher? It works fine-“

“Honey? Can you tell me why you’re touching HOT FOOD with your BARE HANDS?!”

“Uh… why did we reuse this container for sauce??”

“Babe I love you and I know you’re just trying to help, but putting Vicks on my feet and socks over it sounds like a textural nightmare…”

“…remind me again why the cookie tin needs to have sewing supplies in it?”

“Are you sure we need all these grocery bags? And why do we put them in another grocery bag, that seems a little… okay okay! I won’t question it.”

“Babe, are you sure we shouldn’t leave now? I thought the party was at 8? It’s like 10 pm!”

And more

lol

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #Eddie Munson x latine! reader #Eddie Munson x Latina! reader #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson fanfic #my favorite metal nerd stoner

[pollenallergie]

I just know that Eddie secretly loves skincare… but only because you love it. Of course, you get him some skin care essentials so that he can create his own ~*custom*~ daily routine, but the man hardly ever uses them. At best, Eddie sometimes uses the cleanser you bought him to wash his face in the shower, but most the time he either forgets to wash his face entirely or (more often) he does it with the same cheap bar of soap he uses to wash everything else. Really, he prefers to watch you work through your own simple three/four step routine. In Eddie’s opinion, there’s something oddly therapeutic, soothing even, about watching the one he loves do something that you so clearly enjoy; even if its something as mundane as washing your face or applying some moisturizer. 

Occasionally, Eddie will partake in skincare with you, but only because he loves that its a peaceful activity that he gets to do with his favorite person. His favorite aspects of skincare are facemasks. In fact, Eddie loves, loves, loves when you come home with new face masks for him to try; especially when they’re the ones that you have to like spread on his face. Clays, gels, creams, he loves them all, mostly because you’ve deemed him too messy to use them on his own. Instead of giving him the opportunity to make an absolute mess of things, you do every single step for him while pampering him along the way. During the application process, you give Eddie a nice facial massage as you spread the slightly chilly substance all over his skin. Then, instead of letting him wash it off himself - because he just gets water all over the bathroom when he does that - you take a warm, damp wash cloth and gently wipe it off for him. Once his skin is all bright and clean, you even give him another little facial massage when you apply some moisturizer to skin, paying extra special attention to his masseter muscles because the poor bean tends to clench his teeth. The whole experience is just absolutely wonderful for our dear Eddie because you dote on him the entire time; he fucking adores it. Mr. Edward Francis Munson (because I genuinely believe that man has the lamest middle name ever; most hot guys do and its usually a family name or some shit like that) is not a big fan of sheet masks though, mostly because they’re really slimy in a way that he’s not super fond of, plus the lack of mess means that you allow him to do them mostly independently and, therefore, don’t really dote on him as much. Although, he doesn’t necessarily hate them, he’ll still use them if you offer him one, but he typically prefers the messier masks; he’s a messy dude.  

Also, every other Friday, after Eddie gets his paycheck, he takes you to your favorite beauty shop so that you can stock up on your staple products and maybe, if you’re feeling particularly adventurous, splurge on a couple new things for the both of you to try. You two often don’t have much money to spend on non-essentials, but skincare is one of those extravagances that you allow yourselves to indulge in whenever its feasible to do so. After all, Eddie would sooner have no money to his name, no food in his belly, and no home to return to than deny you the pleasure of indulging in one of your favorite things in the whole wide world. Is that too dramatic? Probably, but this is Eddie the Thespian we’re dealing with here. 

#you cannot tell me that this man's middle name is not some old timey shit of like french or latin or fuck even german origin #could be francis #could be horace #could be otis #could even be herbert #either way its unbelievably lame #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader #gn!reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson thoughts #edward munson

[gato-munson]

TikTok

LMFAO LOOK AT HIM DANCING😭 god this kinda made me think about Eddie with a Latine!reader, we all know he’s probably KILLER at moshing but I kinda see him as uncoordinated with like this type of dancing but y/n shows him or something LSNSISNJSOSK

like imagine if there’s a baile that yn would’ve liked eddie to attend but he’s like “I can’t dance” and the whole scenario plays out where they teach him. Once the day arrives yn takes him and he meets her family and relatives. They probably poke fun at him teasingly about his style and hair but it doesn’t bother him cuz he expected it but he notices that it’s more playful if anything so he’s really happy about it and less nervous. there are a few tias talking about like omg it’s the devil and all that other religious shit💀 he understands Diablo but the rest is in Spanish so he’s like “ aw damn :/“ A song comes that he’s prepared for and asks yn to dance, families side eyeing each other like “you seeing this” and looking at him like “ooohh shit is he for real?!” And all eyes are on him and he feels the pressure. He dances ok like he’s not pro but not the worst but the fam is cheering him on like “go white boy go!!” Cuz it’s better than expected. You tell him to loosen up a bit cuz he’s still stiff and nervous but he’s smiling and having so much fun

It’s Prolly unrealistic cuz he doesn’t like parties BUT ITS REAL TO MEEE

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie cult #Edward Munson #latine!reader #stranger things #dances #joseph quinn #like imagine #holy hell #eddie imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #cute #cute shit #thoughts

[d33rz]

nah cause the thought of dancing to monchy y alexandra with eddie is making me so ??

#idc if the mfs favorite genre is metal he'd dance to ANYTHINGG for you bro #him tryna sway with you omfg #ugh why couldn't this man live until at least early 2010s #him humming along cause he can't speak spanish while you mouth the words i- #or both of y'all humming if you're a no sabo kid 😩 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x latina!reader #latin!reader #latina!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #latino tony stark supremacy

[judeswhore]

late night talking; steve harrington

summary: steve harrington used to spend his friday nights partying, now he spends them curled up in bed, phone pressed to his ear, committing the sleepy tone of your voice to memory

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

requested: yes

warnings: none

notes: feedback is appreciated! you can find my masterlist here.

"i thought you'd flaked on me, harrington." your smile was soft, giddy excitement swirling low in your tummy the second you heard steve's voice on the other end of the line. you tried to picture him, sprawled out on his sofa, telephone propped on his stomach, one hand on the receiver, the other holding the tv remote so he could set up that weeks movie. his house was probably dark, empty apart from him and you so badly wished you could go home, could spend the night tucked into his side instead of only being able to hear his voice. but you still had two weeks left of college, two more over the phone movie nights.

"on a pretty girl like you? never." you could hear the grin in his own voice, words softened by love and adoration. it was a tone you'd realised was reserved only for you. robin called it his "mushy lovesick voice" and steve never really argued because she wasn't exactly wrong, he was mushy and lovesick when it came to you.

"it's almost eight thirty."

"college is teaching you things, i see." you rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you, brought the blanket further up beneath your chin. your muttered "har har" made him laugh, a snorted breathless sound that you could somehow feel against the warm skin of your cheek. you could imagine him hovering over you, pressing kisses to your face as he told you how sorry he was for being late, his breath warm and ticklish but comforting all the same. you missed his kisses. "dustin needed a ride home and for some reason couldn't ask nancy to just drop him off so i had to drive to the wheelers then to munson's then to his house."

"eddie's?"

"hmm, dustin left his latin notes there."

"isn't he failing latin?"

"i think he left the notes on purpose, apparently they'd been there about a week." you tutted, smirked a little as you tugged at the phone wire.

"your rebelliousness towards education is rubbing off on him, harrington."

"oh yeah, totally, it's not at all to do with the fact he spends most of his time talking to suzie or locked away playing d&d." steve huffed, a half exasperated sound and you knew it was because dustin was spending more time with eddie munson than with him. he'd never admit it but he was jealous, he liked knowing he was the older, experienced guy dustin went to for advice, he didn't like the idea of someone else taking that spot. "enough about dustin, you got the movie ready?"

since leaving for college, this was always how friday nights went. steve would call at eight, at the same time you'd press play on the movie you'd chosen the week before but you'd hardly ever really watch it. the next few hours would be spent talking about what you'd done the passed week, despite the fact you called each other almost every day, you always found something to talk about. you would tell steve about classes, about the new people you'd met and how everything seemed so different to back home. steve would tell you about robin and her all consuming crush on a girl from band, about the kids and their constant d&d campaigns, about lucas' position on the basketball team and how steve had been practicing with him when he wasn't working.

hearing stories about your friends back in hawkins made being away from them a little easier, settled that feeling of homesickness that always lingered over you ever so slightly. it was hard being away from them, but no where near as hard as being away from steve.

"yup, just need to press play, you got yours ready?"

"yeah, okay on the count of three?"

"mhm." steve was slow in counting but you made it work, dropping the remote down on to the comforter beside you afterwards. you could hear steve shuffling, the slight creak of his old sofa and another pang of longing sifted through your heart. "i have a confession."

"that sounds ominous." the opening credits of the breakfast club started playing on your little tv but you'd turned the sound almost completely all the way down, far more interested in what steve had to say.

"so, i rented the movie like three days ago because i knew i'd be too busy to do it today and then last night i finished studying early and i was bored so i watched it." a few moments of silence followed your words, the soft sounds of steve's breathing the only thing you could hear. it might not have seemed like a big deal to other people but movie night came with rules, the main being neither of you watched the chosen movie before friday or without the other. it was simple and straightforward.

“are you serious?”

“i had nothing else to do.”

“we have rules for a reason!”

“it’s not like i’m gonna tell you what happened.” robin had created a lengthy list of movies from the shelves at family video for you and steve to get through, most of which neither of you had seen. which was why you’d created the “no watching without the other” rule because if you were home these would be the movies the two of you would experience together and you still wanted that, you just had to work it into your new separation.

“that’s so not the point, i’ve never watched one of our movies without you.” your brow crinkled at that, eyes narrowing because steve had one hundred percent watched one of the movies without you. dustin had told you so himself.

“you’re such a liar, steve harrington.”

“excuse me?”

“you watched weird science with the kids!” he made a soft noise down the line, a sound that told you he’d been caught out. you twisted the phone wire around your finger, let your gaze stray to the photo of you and steve propped on your desk and the sight of it instantly warmed your heart. it had been taken just days after you and steve had been hired at scoops ahoy, both of you dressed in that ridiculous uniform, hats and all, grinning wide, toothy and so dizzyingly happy. steve was behind you, arms wrapped tight around your shoulders, his face nuzzled against the side of yours, cheeks smushed together. it was probably one of your favourite photos, it was so sickly sweet and innocent, neither of you worried about potential supernatural threats or college distances.

“who told you that?”

“dustin.”

“little shit.” you knew steve was shaking his head, could picture the way he frowned and rolled his eyes, head tipping back ever so slightly in disappointment. “in my defence, it was babysitting duties.”

“you couldn’t have watched something else?”

“no, it was the only movie i had.”

“you work in a movie store. y’know, where you can get movies whenever you like.” despite your words you couldn’t stop smiling, heart aching with the need to be close to him. you wanted to be teasing him in person so you could see the glint in his eyes and the soft pink that dusted across his cheeks.

“there was no way in hell i was leaving those dickheads alone in my house while i went to get a movie. do you know what happened last time?” you shuffled in the bed, propped yourself up against the heard board and brought your stuffed teddy into your chest. it was one steve had bought for you as a parting gift, sprayed with his cologne but despite the fact it had long since lost the smell you still kept it with you, a steady comfort.

“last time?”

“they thought it would be a genius idea to try and make pancakes and almost set my house on fire. the whole stove was in flames and lucas tried putting it out with tiny cups of water and just ended up flooding my kitchen floor. it was a- are you laughing?” steve cut himself off, shock and a tiny bit of offence creeping into his tone as your giggles got a little louder. “it’s not funny.”

“it kind of is. i mean, what were you expecting?”

“i don’t know? that they’d occupy themselves in my pool? that robin would be smart enough to be able to make pancakes.”

“robin was there?”

“it was her idea!”

"oh, stevie." your laughter was uncontrollable, giggles muffled ever so slightly as you pressed your face into the teddy in your arms. you could picture steve walking into his kitchen, shock and horror on his face, confused about how the hell they'd managed to ruin the once pristine space. you could imagine his bickering with robin, him calling her out for being the worlds clumsiest person, her trying to defend herself whilst most likely laughing behind his back and the kids. the kids would be trying their hardest to act sorry but no one is ever able to take annoyed steve seriously anymore. not when he walks around with a stripy kitchen towel slung over one shoulder.

"well, i'm glad it's amusing to you, had to throw away my pan." the smile in his voice was evident and it made you miss him even more, a tiny knot forming in the middle of your chest. it was hard sometimes knowing you were missing a lot, you were missing seeing the kids grow up and make their stupid mistakes and just sometimes a tiny voice in the back of your head would tell you to go home. and then a much louder voice, one that sounded suspiciously like steve, would tell you to stop being an idiot, they'd all still be there whenever you came back.

you opened your mouth to tell him you'd happily buy him a new pan but he was already speaking again, voice softer than before. “god, i miss you.” it was a whisper, so quiet it almost got lost before it met your ears but it still made your heart twist, stomach dipping.

“i miss you, too. so fuckin’ much, steve.” and it was true, before leaving for college you and steve had done everything together because before he’d become your boyfriend, steve harrington had been your best friend.

you’d learnt to ride your bikes together, taken swimming classes with each other, swapped your sandwiches at lunch time because steve hated crusts but his mom never cut them off. you’d been there the first time steve had broken his arm, the first time he’d fought with his parents when all he needed was love. you’d built forts and treehouses, collected frogs and spiders. steve had been right by your side the very first time you’d had your heartbroken and he’d promised he’d never let anyone hurt you like that again. at seven years old he’d given you a ring twisted from a paper clip and told you he was gonna marry you one day, had told you he loved you, that puppy love that only children really knew. but now at twenty he really loved you, the all consuming, heart crushing kind of love.

every second of your life had been spent with steve, you’d never really figured out how to go about it without him being there and college had been a struggle to adjust to. there wasn’t a single second that your heart didn’t ache with how badly you missed him, how much you wished college had been something you could experience together.

“when you’re home, you’re not leaving my house for at least a week.”

“your house or your bed?”

“both. i miss you.” you grinned, a face splitting smile and flopped back on your bed, tugging the blanket up beneath your chin from where it had slipped down. “you’re mine only for the first week, i want you all to myself before the kids start hogging you. dustin has already started planning what he wants to do, said he doesn’t even care if i have plans.”

“and do you have plans?”

“of course i do.”

“what are they?”

“a surprise.” you groaned at that, a low, gravelly sound that made steve laugh. his laughter sent a thrill of love through your chest.

“c’mon, you know i hate surprises.”

“trust me, you’ll love this one.” you pouted even though he couldn’t see you but still there was a small flutter in your stomach as the thought of whatever steve had planned. he may not have seemed it but he was the biggest softie at heart, more romantic than a john hughes’s movie and it always made you feel unconditionally loved. you knew without a doubt that whatever he had planned would have you falling even more head over heels for him, if that was even possible at this point.

your pout suddenly slipped into a smirk as you remembered the lilting tease to his earlier mention of keeping you bed bound. you tucked yourself further into the bed and let your eyes fall shut, letting your mind conjure up and image of your boyfriend lying on his sofa, all soft and fighting sleep. he hand one hand in his hair i’m your vision, his other hand fiddling with the telephone cord.

“so if i’m not allowed to hear about the big plan will you tell me about your plans to keep me in your bed? what exactly does that look like?” if your smirk was big, steve’s was even wider. you heard him shuffle, getting himself more comfortable and his voice had dropped ever so slightly lower when he answered you.

“oh that i can tell you all about, i’ve been thinking about it every night since you left.”

#stranger things #stranger things blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #stranger things one shot #joe keery #joe keery smut #joe keery x reader #joe keery fluff #joe keery one shot #joe keery fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic

[jo-harrington]

Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 3)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Word Count: 12.9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.

Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Angst, body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, unrequited love, mutual pining, fatphobia (if you squint?), Babysitter Steve, unresolved feelings, manipulation/deception, Things That Require Communication (Too Bad There Isn't Any), Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, Masturbation, Fantasies/Wet Dreams, To Quote JQ "There Do Be Willies"

Note: Guys...ok I tried I really did. First off once again thanks to @ghost-proofbaby, @big-ope-vibes and @trashmouth-richie for being my sounding boards for some things in this chapter. And then because they have been SO amazing with their writing and their big-brainedness, this chapter is dedicated to @myosotisa and @blue-mossbird.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

Before Eddie could react at all to Steve's appearance, Steve had launched himself off the bed, crossed the room, and pinned Eddie against the wall with an arm across his neck. The pressure was uncomfortable, but not enough to keep him from breathing or talking.

"How did you get in here?" Eddie questioned.

"It's my fucking house, Freak," Steve spat. "I know where the spare key is. Now, what the fuck did you do to me? To us. How the fuck did you do this?"

"Listen pal," Eddie grunted, trying to shove Steve off of him. Eddie wondered, fleetingly as he stared into his own rage-filled eyes, if he was actually that strong, or if it was just because Steve had better control of his strength. "I don't know what you think I could have done, but I was just as surprised as I'm sure you were when I woke up here this morning. In your fucking body."

"That's bullshit. You did this," Steve insisted. "You...did some satanic ritual—"

"Are you stupid? It's all a joke man," Eddie began. "I don't worship Satan, Hellfire's not a cult."

"Fuck you, you and your devil horns and latin chants during lunc—"

"I just played that shit up so my friends don't get beaten up by meathead jocks like you."

Fed up with being pushed around and accused Eddie went slack against the wall for a second, causing Steve's footing to falter, and with that he threw his whole weight against Steve, causing him to tumble back onto the floor. Eddie knelt over him, gritting his teeth, and fisted the front of his shirt.

"You think if I had some kind of say in my life, some kind of power to change it, I would still be stuck in a shithole like Hawkins?" Eddie sneered. "Stuck in that trailer, stuck being a student at Hawkins high for another day?"

"Except you're not stuck anymore," Steve retorted. "I am."

"Y-you think I would want to be stuck like this instead?" Eddie huffed. "King fucking Steve Harrington. Who has it all handed to him. What kind of life is that?"

"You didn't seem too miserable a few seconds ago," Steve pointed out.

Eddie let go of Steve and he dropped slightly, head bouncing slightly off the plush area rug.

Fucking Harrington can't even have hard enough floors to hurt.

Eddie stood to his full height and looked around the bedroom again—at Steve's desk and his lovingly filled-out calendar, at the plush bed, at the window that overlooked a swimming pool for fuck's sake—and wondered how fair it was that Steve could have anything he ever wanted, but never did.

What would you like me to say to that Steve? That you're right? That I would want your life? That you're an idiot and you don't deserve any of this? That I do instead?

"Where were you just now anyway?" Steve continued as he watched Eddie cross over to the window. "Take my car for a joyride or something? While I'm driving around your rusty old shitbox? Or...or—"

"Took your girl out for a date," Eddie interrupted and glanced back at Steve over his shoulder. "Or did you forget about her?"

"My gir—" Steve paused. "Do you mean...You took her out on our date?"

"I went through the motions today," Eddie explained. "Wake up in someone else's body, go to work at their job, take their girlfriend on the date they had planned."

"For someone who seems to have no idea how this happened," Steve grunted as he pushed himself off the floor. "You seem to know how to handle a situation like this pretty perfectly."

"How do you think I should have handled it? Driving around town screaming about spells and magic?"

Steve had the sense to look ashamed for a minute and Eddie smirked.

"What did you do today then, eh 'Eddie?'"

"I...I went to school," Steve started.

"Sounds like going through the motions to me."

"I went to find Henderson!"

"Wait a minute," Eddie turned to face Steve fully. "You told Henderson?"

"Yeah," Steve shrugged. "What was I supposed to do? He's part of your little band of misfits. Figured he might know some...counter spell and get me back in my body."

Eddie groaned and put his face in his hands.

Great, Dustin was going to actually think Eddie was the devil now.

"Did you tell anyone?" Steve asked dumbly.

"No because I'm not an absolute idiot," Eddie exclaimed, throwing his hands out. "Fuck, no wonder Buckley calls you a dingus."

"Well lah-di-dah, I'm sorry I don't have the mystical body switching handbook memorized like you do" Steve snarked and fell onto the bed, grabbing a pillow to hug to his body for comfort. "What would that even look like? A...a...pentagram with 'shut the fuck up' written in the middle in latin or something?"

Eddie froze.

A mystical body switching handbook.

A pentagram.

Or maybe a sigil?

"God, I can't even believe you went on my date for me. Did you even...how did you know I had reservations at the Club? Wait, is that what you wore? Jesus Ch—”

"Shut up!" Eddie interrupted. "Go back, what did you just say?"

"Uh....The Club?" Steve asked. "The...Country Club up in Marion? My dad plays golf there."

"No before that, you said—" Eddie stopped. "Wait, you were gonna take her for dinner at the Golf Club? Kind of a douche move there, Harrington. Even for you."

"Well where did you take her then?"

"Doesn't matter," Eddie dismissed, smugly filing away the fact that his idea for a date was better than Steve's. Country Club. "You said...a pentagram."

"Yeah? What about it?" Steve asked. When Eddie hesitated to answer, Steve grew concerned. "Please don't tell me you drew a pentagram and asked for...I don't know, better hair or something and now we're stuck like this."

Eddie ignored the dig at his hair.

"Not...exactly."

"Oh!" Mrs. Henderson looked surprised when she opened the door to find both "Steve" and "Eddie" on her doorstep. "What a surprise!"

"Hey, Mrs. H," "Steve" greeted with a smile, causing "Eddie" to roll his eyes. "Is Dustin here?"

"He is. With Will and Lucas. Since someone decided to cancel Hellfire Club," she glared at "Eddie" good-naturedly. "I can go get him for you; come on in. Did you boys have dinner? You hungry? I have plenty of leftover tater tot casserole."

"No thank you," they answered in tandem and crossed through into the living room and took a seat on the couch.

As she made her way back towards Dustin's room, the boys started to bicker.

"Why would you cancel Hellfire? I never cancel. Even when I'm sick."

"I’m sorry was this not a pressing matter? Your little club can’t skip one week?”

Mews jumped up and settled in "Eddie's" lap and Steve froze as she began purring.

Mews was never really a fan of Steve's to begin with, the few times Steve had come over to spend time with Dustin and the kids. It was mutual indifference, actually. She mostly stayed cuddled up in Mrs. Henderson's arms, but when she wasn't they gave one another distance. Steve had no interest in getting near the cat, and the cat had no interest in getting near Steve.

So for her to be comfortable and purring in "Eddie's" lap...it made Steve a little nervous. What if she bit him or clawed him or—

"Well, aren't you gonna give her pets Harrington?" Eddie reached over and started scratching between her ears.

"Uh...I'm not an animal person," Steve explained and Eddie gave him a dull look. "What if it scratches me?"

"Are you kidding?" Eddie scoffed. "First, she's literally the cuddliest cat in the world. Second, she's a she, not an it. And third, if she scratches you, technically she'd scratch me and I've already been scratched several times when I fed the baby raccoons at Forest Hills."

"The—Why are you feeding raccoons?" Steve exclaimed. "They're wild animals, they're feral."

"They're babies, they shouldn't be eating trash. Which reminds me, as long as we're stuck like this, you need to leave a can or two of tuna out for the stray cats once in a while."

Steve watched Eddie for a moment, waiting for the laughter to start or a punchline to come out of his mouth. And it never did.

"What is wrong with yo—"

"Eddie! Steve!" the boys jumped at Dustin and his mother's appearance. Dustin had wide eyes and a strained smile. "What a surprise! Eddie, how was detention?"

Eddie turned back to look at Steve with raised eyebrows and a manic grin.

"Detention?" Eddie asked. "When did this happen?"

"I was late to class. You know, like I am every day." Steve answered, taking a cheap dig at Eddie for putting him on the spot.

"Anyway!" Dustin began loudly. "Why don't you guys come on back. And we can discuss that surprise campaign for Mike's birthday."

Eddie picked Mews off Steve's lap and handed her back to Mrs. Henderson with another last little chin scratch, and then he and Steve followed Dustin back to his room where, indeed, Lucas and Will were waiting.

"Alright dweebs, get lost," Steve announced.

"No way, we're not leaving until we figure this whole body switching thing out," Lucas scoffed.

"You told them too?" Eddie turned to Steve and Steve held his hands up defensively.

"No," Dustin interjected. "I did. I needed Will the Wise's brain and Sinclair the Soldier's tenacity if I was gonna solve this."

"What about Wheeler?" Eddie asked.

The boys sheepishly looked at one another.

"Mike's not exactly the best at keeping secrets," Will began hesitantly. "And if Nancy found out...well..."

"And we do actually need to come up with some kind of surprise for his birthday," Lucas continued. "A quest to reverse a curse on two knights sounds pretty epic."

They all looked to Eddie for his input.

"Could be interesting," Eddie hummed and tilted his head back and forth in contemplation. "I might be inclined to give it a DM stamp of approval if we can actually figure this thing out."

The kids all cheered and started talking over one another, saying that they went to the Hawkins Public Library after school since Hellfire was canceled. They gathered several fantasy books and a folklore book, and when they asked about occultism at the reference desk, there was one book that had recently been checked out.

"Funny you should mention that," Steve piped up and pulled the faded red book out from where it was tucked into Eddie's jacket. "Eddie and I nearly tore apart his trailer trying to find it.

And they had.

After Eddie had dropped the news that he, indeed, might have been the cause of this switch—unintentionally—he and Steve headed to Forest Hills to find the book.

Steve honestly felt a little vindicated that it actually was Eddie who had done this to the two of them, but...he admitted that he might have let all of the mania about Eddie and Hellfire Club fuel his anger.

But as he stood off to the side and watched the boys flip through the pages with Eddie as Eddie regaled them with his campaign ideas and the sigil that had caught his eye, Steve couldn't help but feel that bitter vile jealousy begin to bubble up again.

How long ago was it that he was taking them to the junkyard to ride their bikes and find scraps and bits and pieces for them to use for their...LORPing...LARPing...

And it was fun, yeah, watching the little idiots get excited over hunks of discarded pipes they could use as staffs, and bent and dented garbage can lids they could use as shields.

But he had done all of those things in an effort to make Nancy see he was a good guy, and he had lost her. And he had kept doing those things because the kids were actually fun and like the younger siblings he had always wanted...and now they were arguing about the differences between Latin and Ancient Mycenaean with Eddie.

He just couldn't keep up.

So he took the route he always knew would keep him and his feelings safe: he lashed out.

"Alright, so," he put his hands on his hips." What's the verdict, how soon can we switch back? I don't want to be stuck smelling like weed for the rest of my life. Do you even wash your clothes, Munson?"

All four boys—well, 3 boys and one man—stared at Steve with wide, almost hurting eyes. And Steve realized...

Shit.

...he hadn't made fun of someone like that in front of the kids that way in a long time.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't," he sighed and collapsed into Dustin's desk chair. "It's just been a really long day guys. It isn't easy being Eddie."

"Oh?" Eddie scoffed. "You just realizing that now Harrington? After one day of being me? You have it so fucking easy that it takes one day of...what? Being pushed around or called a freak or driving an old van that is not a rusty old shitbox, by the way. One day without your big house and your notes from your mommy and your neatly pressed clothes and your cute girlfriend doting on you?"

"And what do you know about my life?" Steve argued. "You don't know half of the shit that I go through! And you don't even care. You go around without a care in the world. Everyone you think is your friend is either afraid of you or looking for your approval. I heard from Janie Miller that you offered to give her free weed one time if she flashed you her boobs. You don't care who you're hurting or insulting or shitting on unless it's fun for you."

It was a miracle Mrs. Henderson didn't come to see what the ruckus was about because it just went on. Enough that they started talking over one another. One dig after another, one way their lives were seemingly better or seemingly worse.

The kids tried to interrupt them but they just kept going.

And Steve's breathing got heavy and his throat got tight, his eyes stung with unshed tears as he thought about...

The way everyone left him. The way he was actually alone. The way his dad couldn't see how hard he sought his approval. The way his mom only did nice things for him anymore was because he knew her secrets. The way his high school friends only liked him because of his popularity. The way that Nancy Wheeler never actually liked him at all, just liked the way he made her feel. The way that the kids left him behind for the next cool older brother kind of guy that came along. The way he was sure even Robin only half-tolerated him.

And the more that he thought those thoughts, the more...the more Eddie's body felt like his. The more he could feel every hair follicle on his head, the way every breath rattled his chest a little bit, the way his ears rang a little bit constantly from the loud music he always blasted in his van.

It got to be so much that it was scary.

But he and Eddie kept on arguing, until someone had the good sense to stop them.

"SHUT UP!" Will yelled and everything went silent. The two older boys stared at Will and he shrunk a little bit under their gaze. "I, uh, I think I figured out what happened."

"Well?" Steve snarked.

"...well I don't know for sure..." Will replied hesitantly. "I don't take Latin with Lucas and Dustin. B-but this right here. Alterius Oculos. Another's eyes?"

He pointed to the inscription on the page Eddie had shown them, right above the sigil.

“Ok what about ‘another’s eyes?’” Eddie asked.

“You need to…see through another’s eyes maybe.” Lucas offered. “Not literally. Figuratively. Empathize with them? Ms. Kelly told me about that a few weeks ago. Put yourself in someone else’s shoes.”

“Except, it’s actually literal,” Dustin snapped his fingers. “Because you two are actually seeing through one another’s eyes and wearing each other’s shoes.”

“So I drew the sigil, went to bed and we switched bodies to see through each other’s eyes and…understand each other better?” Eddie huffed. “I wasn’t even thinking of Harrington when I drew it!”

“What were you thinking of?” Lucas questioned.

Eddie quietly picked at his fingernails, and Steve looked down at his own hands—at Eddie’s actual hands—and saw the ripped up skin and closely trimmed nails. Eddie was a nail biter.

Eddie Munson was a nail biter and he was nervous and he was…

“I was thinking that…nothing good ever happened to me. That…I needed to have a reality check or something,” Eddie shrugged.

…Eddie was a loser. He didn’t have it all figured out. He struggled with things…beyond Steve’s understanding. Even because of Steve sometimes.

“Hey, uh,” Steve cut in. “It’s not like I did anything to help things last night.”

“What do you mean?” Will asked.

“I, uh, might have charged you extra for your movie rental just to get you out of my hair for a while.”

“I knew it!” Eddie exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Steve. “I knew you were pulling that shit on purpose.”

“Can you fucking blame me, have you ever met yourself?” Steve asked.

“Well, I certainly can say I have now,” Eddie grumbled. “So how do we fix this? How do we switch back?”

The younger boys all shared another nervous look.

“I guess…” Will began. “Do more things to understand each other. Just…do whatever the other would do…live each other’s lives.”

“For how long? Forever?” Steve scoffed.

“Lucas and I can translate the rest of this page,” Dustin offered.

“I’m sorry, Lucas and who?” Lucas asked. “You’re barely passing Latin.”

“Ok Lucas can translate the page while Will and I can do my best to help ‘Eddie’ navigate Hellfire Club.” Dustin held his hands out as though he was weighing his options. “And ‘Steve’ can just…not fuck up real Steve’s life. Or real Eddie’s life for that matter!”

“Can’t fuck up something that’s at Rock Bottom,” Steve grumbled.

“And maybe you two could work on understanding each other in the mean time?” Lucas asked.

Steve and Eddie stared at one another in a way that felt, to Steve at least, like a challenge. They nodded and Steve felt the unspoken “let the best man win” ring through the air.

Otherwise they were both gonna lose.

Eddie threw his head back with laughter.

"Swing and a miss," he called as you swung the putter at the little purple golf ball, over and over, without actually hitting it. "Honey, are you just letting me win? There's no way you can be so bad at this."

"We can't all be professional mini golfers," you laughed at him.

"Excuse me, that is 'mini golf champion,'" Eddie boasted. "They have my face in the Hall of Fame."

"Oh I didn't know I was in the presence of a celebrity," you bowed to him. "Maybe you could take some pity on a poor peasant and help me get this shot please."

"I supposed I could give you some pointers," he sighed dramatically and sidled up behind you. He wrapped his arms comfortably around you and his hands found yours on the putter. When he tried to get your body into position to make the shot, you pressed yourself back against him and rested your head on his shoulder a bit. "Hmmm, what is this funny business, honey? Trying to distract me?"

You wiggled your shoulders and relaxed, leaning your body further into his, emphasizing the softness of you against the hardness of him.

And it was only getting harder by the second.

"Maybe I'm trying to win?" you turned your head to look at him, breath fanning against his jaw.

"Considering I've made par on every hole so far—"

"I'm not talking about golf anymore Eddie," you muttered, shaking your hands out from below his on the putter so you could turn within his embrace and cup his face softly...reverently. "I...you know I've always had a huge crush on you."

"Honey, why do you have to tell me such sweet things?" Eddie asked. "It's our first date, I'm trying to be a gentleman. We're in public."

"And if we weren't in public?" You tilted your face closer to his, lips practically brushing against his. "Would you be a gentleman then?"

"Do you want me to be?" he asked breathlessly.

He dropped the putter and grabbed at your waist as he crushed his mouth to yours. It was a hungry sort of kiss, like he was a man starved. And when the joyous moan that came from you was as sweet as honey, Eddie resolved that you were, indeed, going to give him a sweet tooth.

Eddie's hands slid easily across the smooth surface of your shiny taffeta dress as he pulled you closer, causing it to rustle as it crinkled under his touch. It got harder to think as he savored your softness but he dreamed of what it would be like to be surrounded by all of you. To be consumed, and suffocated, and smothered by you.

He could have it...he could have you...

You pulled away momentarily and stared up into his eyes, yours glassy with want and adoration, something that he only ever hoped you would look at him with.

"Do you wanna answer the phone?" you muttered.

"W-what?"

"Steven are you up?" There was a knock on the bedroom door and Eddie woke with a start. He groggily looked around the room, at the plaid wallpaper and the tidy belongings.

Damn. The thing that he hoped was a dream was real, and the thing he hoped was real was only a dream.

"There's someone calling for you. Did you wanna answer?" Mrs. Harrington said through the door.

"Y-yeah, uh," Eddie called out and cleared his throat. "M-mom." The word was unfamiliar on his tongue, in his brain. Like a language that hadn't been practiced in quite some time.

He hoped, at the very least, Steve didn't call her "mommy."

He had been well on his way to an early-riser if he hadn't been woken up, but nothing was a bigger boner-killer than thinking of Mrs. Harrington as "mommy."

"Alright, come downstairs when you're ready; I'm making breakfast too. Your favorite."

Eddie pushed himself out of Steve's bed for the fifth day in a row. Threw on some of Steve's clothes for the fifth day in a row.

After the discussion with the kids on Friday night, he and Steve had agreed to go through the motions, make the best of living one-another's lives and actually put in the effort. Eddie told him about the things he did to make things easier around the trailer since Wayne worked nights--the laundry, grocery shopping, bringing home a little extra money by dealing—and Steve told Eddie the things he did—driving Robin to school, working at Family Video, his "health routines."

Although, Eddie would hesitate to call shaving his chest and styling his hair something someone did for their health.

He was also hesitant to maintain Steve's morning run, considering the fact that he hated running, but found that it was easier in Steve's athletic body than in his garbage bag one—Steve's words, not his.

They also set one non-negotiable thing each, that the other must do no matter what.

For Eddie, that was Corroded Coffin and their Tuesday gigs, like the one they had that night.

He had spent the weekend coming up with a plan for them to still play, even with Steve in his body and fully unable to play the guitar. Steve had even offered to learn some easy guitar riffs or chords, but Eddie had standards to keep. It would be his luck that on the night Steve was in his body putzing around that some....record label exec would walk into the Hideout. He wasn't gonna let that fly.

So they figured out that "Steve" would be spending some time with "Eddie" at Dustin's request so they could "reconcile their differences." And in an effort to learn more about "Eddie," he would go to Corroded Coffin's shows.

Since the "stage lights" were so bright and blinding anyway, no one would know that he slipped into the supply closet where his Fender would be plugged into the equipment, while Steve faked playing an unfortunately dead Sweetheart on stage. There was more to the performance than just focusing on the music...so he'd just have to hope that none of the guys gave Steve any cues that he couldn't see.

The singing was an easy fix. Jeff was working on his confidence; Eddie would just let him be the frontman tonight. No need to worry about Steve knowing any of the songs, let alone their lyrics.

He was an optimist when it came to music though. This would work.

For Steve, it was that Eddie did not talk to his parents outside of any quick, cordial conversations. And Eddie wasn't one to pry—he had his fair share of parental issues—it just seemed weird that the mention of Ma and Pa Harrington would cause Golden Boy Stevie to choke up the way he did.

Thankfully for Eddie, the Harrington's had vibrant social lives. Thomas Harrington worked late at the car dealership and then went out for dinner and drinks with his salesmen most nights Monday through Saturday. And on Sunday he got his clubs out of the hall closet and went to the Country Club to play with his other businessman friends for most of the day. Mary Harrington was just...unexplainably gone from the house for most of the day, most days. Eddie couldn't even explain when she was home to do all of the things she seemed to do around the house.

"Steve" had the day off of work yesterday so he was home for most of the day, and short of the few hours he had left the house to take you out on another date, Mary hadn't been home at all. Miraculously, when he returned at the end of the night, his hamper was empty, his bed had been made, his new schedule was written in his calendar, and his lunch was ready in the fridge for the following day.

Eddie wondered why everyone thought he was capable of dark magic when, clearly, Mary Harrington was the town's resident witch.

This morning was the first one that he had even heard her voice, let alone be the first time he would see her as he resided in Steve’s body.

Eddie crept down the stairs and into the hall, peering around to see if Mrs. Harrington was anywhere nearby then approached the little hall table where the phone was sitting off the hook.

"Good morning, this is Steve Harrington," he greeted as he pressed the receiver to his ear. "Fine purveyor of rental videos, microwave popcorn, and movie theater candy. How can I help you?" There was giggling on the other end of the line and he grinned.

"Please don't tell me that's how you answer the phone at Family Video?" you said, instead of a "hello."

"I will now," he promised.

"No!"

"You'll just have to call more often and stop people from actually having to hear it." His smile grew at your skeptical uh huh and he continued. "What's going on this morning, honey. I thought you had class."

He could envision you leaning against a payphone, twirling a finger through a lock of your hair.

"I have a few minutes," you explained. "But I just wanted to call and say I had a really good time last night."

He had taken you to the drive in to see a double feature—House on Haunted Hill and The Bat; Eddie knew you loved Vincent Price but "Steve" just had incredibly luck—but most of the night was spent talking and holding hands and at the end of the night, he got to kiss you again.

Eddie felt triumphant once again, knowing deep down that you would like the dates he had planned over anything Steve could have come up with.

Part of the discussion with Steve about how to go about each other's lives also included you. Eddie had hesitated and asked how Steve felt that someone else was dating his girlfriend and Steve had just shrugged.

"She's a good one, I don't wanna let her get away," Steve shrugged. "You'll just have to keep her warm for me."

"Is that really the best way to build a relationship?" Eddie asked. "Lies? Tricks?"

"She doesn't have to know you're not me," Steve explained. "Just...take it easy, don't do any of the good stuff until we switch back. You wanna know some of my favorite dating spots?"

So Eddie decided...if he happened to be stuck in Steve's body forever he could have you. And if he ever made it back to his body...well...Steve wasn't exactly as smooth as people thought he was. If he couldn't keep up the loverboy act Eddie had started, you would get fed up and dump him.

And Eddie would be right there to pick up the pieces.

"Oh yeah?" Eddie laughed. "Well I'm glad. I did too. What was your favorite part?"

"Uhhh...oh! That part when you—"

The two of you chatted for a few minutes, talking and laughing easily, before you told him you had to get to class. He needed to get going too, so he could drive Robin to school.

His chest ached a little when he hung up the phone.

"It's good to see you smiling, Stevie," came a voice from over his shoulder. He jumped, seeing Mary leaning against the threshold to the living room.

"Uh, good morning," Eddie greets her.

"Were you hungry? Figured we could have a little chat over breakfast," she smiled an obviously strained smile.

Shit, how did she know? What did she know?

"I actually have to get going," he jerked a thumb over his shoulder then put his hands in his pockets. "Take Robin to school...get to work, open the shop."

"Let me get your lunch then!" Her eyes crinkled at the corners and she dashed away. Eddie wondered if he could make an escape before she came back, but before long she was pressing the brown paper bag into his hand. "I put your allowance in there too. Remember Dad can't find out about it, Steve. Please...dad can't find out. Please."

"Oh...kay," Eddie frowned. Was that the reason Steve didn't want Eddie talking to his parents? Because his dad cut him off but his mom was giving him money instead? Well, Eddie could keep a secret, and enjoy the benefits of some extra pocket money. "Sure. Mom. Whatever you say. I've gotta go."

"You have plans tonight?" she asked. "I can leave dinner for you."

"Nah, I'll probably be home late," Eddie explained. "Going out with friends."

Mary's face fell into a neutral expression, then she rolled her eyes and sighed. It was night and day from how it was just moments before, and it was incredibly uncomfortable for Eddie.

"You can't do this forever Steven," she shook her head. "Keep me at arms length. I'm your mother. I'm trying."

"I don't...I'm sorry mom. I've gotta go."

Eddie scooped Steve's keys out of the little dish on the table and headed towards the front door.

"I'm trying, Steven," Mary called after him cryptically. "You can't be mad at me forever."

Tuesdays were your favorite day of the week.

Well they weren't...your favorite; did anyone even have a favorite day of the week?

To be completely honest, they were actually kind of nasty.

Tuesdays and Thursdays were the days you had the heaviest course load at the Community College. Your first class started at 7am—you thought they would be easy thanks to your early starts in high school, but you thought wrong—and aside from a brief, squeezed-in lunch break at 11:45, you had classes straight until 3. Tuesdays also meant Bingo at the Rec center and an early dinner rush of senior citizens at Benny's that started right at the beginning of your shift. So no breaks again until closer to 6? Or 7? Or later if the actual dinner rush ran long.

And Benny was a nice guy, right? He always let you take an extra 5 minutes when he made his rounds about the restaurant to greet the regulars.

But Lynn? The curmudgeonly opening waitress who had been around Benny's before it was even Benny's?! Who had been doing this for longer than you'd been alive? Lynn spent the tiny bit of overlap in your shifts criticizing everything you did.

Every. Little. Thing.

Usually you could ignore her, but on Tuesdays when you were just one...big mass of irritation, it took everything in you not to flip her the bird as she left. Just one big "fuck you, you miserable old bitch" to her back as she retreated to her clunky, old Mercury Monterey.

As soon as her tail lights were out of sight from the diner windows and she was a little too far to turn back and chastise you about something she forgot to earlier—she had done that enough for it to always be a valid fear—you got to breathe.

You suddenly gained a sense of serenity and joy.

Because Tuesday wasn't your favorite day. Tuesday nights were your favorite nights.

Corroded Coffin came in on Tuesdays. Eddie came in on Tuesdays.

You told yourself going into the day...well, now that you were dating Steve...it was going to be different. It had to be different. The date on Friday really felt like Steve had turned a new leaf; he was moving on from Nancy and was actually gonna give this thing with you a chance.

And your date with him the night before? It had been so perfect; you hadn't even thought about Eddie once. Well...actually...

That fleeting thought you had about Eddie on Friday night, wondering how he might kiss you, left a pit in your stomach. And it had returned with a vengeance after Steve had kissed you last night too. Enough so that it practically kept you up all night from guilt and made you call him this morning to tell him...

I really had a good time with you last night but when you kissed me I thought of someone else.

...to tell him what a great time you had, and that you were excited to see him again.

And it wasn't a lie. You were excited to see him. Excited for this change in him. Excited for the attention and affection he freely gave you during these last two dates that he, generally, hadn't given you during the first two.

You owed it to Steve, and to yourself, to give it a chance. And in order for it to be a fair chance, you had to make a clear distinction in your mind that...well...Steve was...your boyfriend now, and Eddie? Eddie was unfortunately just a friend.

A friend you wanted to kiss.

God this was gonna be difficult.

You could still be nice to him, still look forward to Tuesday nights when he and the guys would come in. They were fun nights filled with music and silly arguments and a textbook example of "boys will be boys."

You simply had to remember that all of those little extra things you did—make sure his favorite booth was free, ask Benny for pickles on his patty melt that he always forgot to ask for, or give him extra whipped cream on his slice of pie—weren't because you wanted Eddie to like you. Or notice you. Or maybe ask you out one day.

It was because you were his friend.

You had even come up with some foolproof plan to get the butterflies to stop flapping in your stomach when you did all of those little things for Eddie. Because you certainly couldn't stop doing them; that would be suspicious. Instead, every time your heart would beat a little harder for Eddie, you would just...think of Steve. His smile and his laugh and his kiss...

It would be so easy.

And certainly much easier tonight of all nights, as Steve walked into Benny's with Corroded Coffin, laughing along to some joke Jeff told before they had opened the door.

It would be so easy.

"Hey guys," you greeted nervously and turned to Steve. "What are you doing here?"

“What a lovely greeting Honey,” Steve chuckled and quickly glanced around before he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment as Eddie and the boys watched the interaction, Dave and Gareth giving Eddie pointed looks, which he ignored.

How strange.

“Steve, please,” you laughed nervously. “I’m at work.”

“Well the boss isn’t around,” Steve pointed out.

“Uh…w-well I have your usual booth ready guys,” you greeted Eddie and his friends.

"Harrington's joining us tonight," Eddie pointed out. "Can we get a table or instead?"

"I can just pull an extra chair up to the booth," you offered, knowing Eddie really liked the view out of the window.

"Yeah," Steve agreed. "That booth does sound nice, Eddie. I don't mind a chair."

"No, we'll get a table," Eddie waved a hand dismissively. "Everyone good with that?" The rest of the guys agreed and Steve huffed an agreement beside you.

"Ok, uh," you stammered. "Wherever you guys wanna sit then, I'm the only one here tonight. And Ben. As usual."

It wasn't...terrible or anything, them wanting a table, it just threw off your cadence. If they had sat in the booth, you already had menus, waters, and silverware set out. Now you had to move everything across the restaurant because Eddie had beelined for a round table in the corner.

It was fine.

Steve hung back for a second and pulled you to the side.

"Hey, uh, is it ok that I'm here?" he asked. "You look a little flustered."

"Yeah, no I'm ok," you gave him a small smile. "Just wasn't expecting you. And I've had a bit of a long day. Kind of overdue for my last break too."

"You should ask Benny if you can take your break," Steve offered. "We'll be fine. The guys are hungry but they'll have to wait regardless."

"The...guys..." you narrowed your eyes at Steve. It felt too familiar coming from his mouth. "What are you doing here with them Steve?"

There was a beat as Steve's eyes got a little bigger and he looked down at his feet for a second before he cleared his throat.

"Listen Honey, I took what you said the other day to heart," Steve started quietly, inching a little closer to you. "About Eddie being your friend. I figured...he had something going on with him, I shouldn't have been so quick to judge. So I went to check up on him and...I don't know, turns out the guy isn't half bad when you get to know him."

"Really?" you asked blankly. You had no reason not to trust him but...going from calling someone a dangerous freak who should be in jail to hanging out with him and his friends in just a few days...seemed drastic.

But when you stared into his hazel eyes, there wasn't a hint of deceit in them.

"Sure," he shrugged a little. "I even went and watched his band play tonight."

"You did?" You were sure the craziest music Steve was into was Van Halen, if that. All of the tapes in his car were…rocky and poppy and nothing outside of the Top 40 charts.

"They're pretty good," he grinned. "Very good actually. They did Flight of Icarus and Mr. Crowley."

"You...listen to metal?" you asked with a frown.

"Uh," Steve shrugged again. "There's some good songs. And Ozzy. Who doesn't know Ozzy?"

"You gonna sit there and chit chat all night Harrington?" Eddie called from the table and the rest of the guys all chuckled. Steve's eyes hardened for a second but he gave you a gentle smile before he went to join them.

You didn't always go outside during your breaks; more often than not, you would sit in the kitchen, do some homework, and chat with Benny as he manned the grill. You'd think a middle-aged man and a 19-year old would have nothing in common, but Benny was honestly like an aloof father figure. He just stood there as you talked or complained about this or that, offered advice or lame jokes. It was perfect.

But tonight was just...confusing.

You tried to make the best of it, you really did. You brought the guys everything they needed, you smiled shyly when Steve reached over and held your hand as he ordered...

He even asked for a little kiss and you reluctantly gave him a peck on the cheek.

But it was Eddie.

He was being a real douchebag. Not to everyone else; just to you.

You had gotten their table set up and then went to check on the other customers and get their drink orders. But when you came back, he didn't even want his Dr. Pepper. He said water was fine.

When you asked everyone if they wanted their usuals—Patty Melts all around. No onions for Dave, extra sauce for Gareth, on a bun instead of rye for Jeff, and add pickles for Eddie—Eddie changed his mind and ordered a bacon cheeseburger instead. Ok, no big deal. It wasn't the first time he'd changed it up.

But then he had just been...picky.

The fries were overdone, the bacon wasn't crispy, it wasn't medium well.

You had brought his food back to the kitchen 3 times, and Benny even offered to kill Eddie for you to get you to laugh.

"He's a good kid but maybe it's his time of the month or something," Benny shrugged, urging you to let things slide. "Got bitten by a werewolf. Or turned into a vampire or something. I could even put some garlic powder on the fries, see if it does him in."

He then told you to go take your break, that he would take the burger back out and make sure none of the guys were having any problems with their food.

"Or else," he raised his spatula as though it was a deadly weapon.

Who knows, Benny kept things to himself, maybe he could kill someone with a spatula...

You were leaning against the grey stucco on the side of the building, enjoying the slight breeze, when there was a crunch of gravel off to the side. You turned your head to see Steve standing there with a small smile and his hands in his pockets.

"You doing ok, honey?" he asked.

"Yeah, just a long day like I said," you explained.

"How was class?"

"Stupid. How was work?"

"Stupid." He grinned wider. "I, uh, was really looking forward to seeing you tonight though."

You pursed your lips to stop the smile from making it onto your face.

"You really wanted to see me in my stupid uniform?" you asked, holding your hands out to emphasize the shapeless blue dress. "I look like Hazel."

"Did I ever tell you that I had the biggest crush on Shirley Booth when I was a kid?" You broke out in laughter. "What? What's so funny? Hazel might just be my type, did you ever think of that?"

"You are..." you started, but paused and shook your head dismissively as he got closer to you.

"I'm?" he questioned, leaning over to take one of your hands in his. He pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

"You're not...what I expected Steve Harrington to be like," you muttered. His eyes went wide for a second as they darted back and forth between yours. "You're so much better."

"Of course I'm better, it's because I'm..." He faltered for a moment. "It's because I'm crazy about you, honey."

Your heart dropped into your stomach...

Steve was...crazy about you?

"You just make me wanna dance," he chuckled and took a step back, pulling you with him. He lifted your arm and made to twirl you around, and you laughed as you tripped on the gravel drive. He urged you to try again and you managed to twirl this time, apron flaring.

Round and around until you got a little dizzy and he pulled you to his chest.

"Hi Honey," he whispered as he rocked you back and forth to some unheard tune.

"Hi," you giggled breathlessly.

"Can I kiss you?"

"You don't always have to ask."

"But can?"

"Always."

Then his lips pressed to yours and you closed your eyes and you were surrounded by him again. Noses brushing, his lips softly pecking at yours, his hands tugging you closer as you reached up to hold his face in yours.

He pulled away briefly to drop little kisses on the corner of your mouth, then your cheek. Your eyes opened and you watched your own fingers thread through his hair, seemingly leading him further along to your neck, but instead it was just an unwitting follower because the choice to suck a bruising kiss at your pulse point was anything but yours.

You grasped at him tighter as something between a whimper and a moan exited you, and he chuckled in a husky, smokey way before laving his tongue over the abused spot.

You closed your eyes again, luxuriating in the moment and all things Steve Harrington...then it hit you.

All of the other senses got to you first—touch and taste, and sound and sight—and now it was smell. And it wasn't what you had initially associated with Steve, that bright, citrus scent.

It was musky and sweaty and spicy and a little bit sweet. There was a heavy undertone of tobacco beneath it all.

Eddie.

"Hey kid, break time's over!" Benny hollered into the night and you pushed yourself away from Steve, stumbling over the gravel drive once again. His hands reached out for you, to pull you back or to steady you, you couldn't be sure.

You regained your footing and batted his hands away to quickly fix your rumpled uniform and wipe at your lips with the back of your hand.

"You good Honey?" Steve chuckled. "You need a minute?"

"Uhh, yeah, I'll be in there in just a second," you waved him back inside. He gave you a wink and a smug smile before he turned and headed back to the door.

Your posture went slack for a second as you tried to control your heart rate and your thoughts. And where your head should have been consumed with thoughts of Steve, instead they were filled with—

"Nope! No. No more!" You stomped your feet and gave your face a few light slaps. "No more. Bad."

You took a few deep breaths, regained your composed service persona, and headed back in.

You spotted the guys table had been cleared, so you got ready for the best part of the night.

Benny was a realist who knew how to do burgers, fries, and shakes, and outside of that, didn't push the ticket. Which meant all of the desserts came from the local bakery every afternoon. They even came pre-sliced.

The whipped cream however? Benny was a connoisseur. He boasted to everyone that had the patience to hear about it that it wasn't cool whip, it wasn't from a squeeze can. If there was whipped cream on a shake or a dessert it was fresh.

"Nothing good in life comes without a little effort," he said the first time he handed you the hand-crank-egg beater-turned-cream-whipper that was, most assuredly, older than you.

So you spent the next few minutes plating everyone's desserts, whipping the cream, and getting it all looking perfect. It might have been the end of their meal, but it was the highlight of your night.

You would take a win where you could. Because everything else felt...

"Alright guys, time for dessert?" you asked, bringing the tray to their table.

You went clockwise starting with Eddie at the head of the table.

Cherry pie for Eddie, Apple for Gareth and Dave, Cheesecake for Jeff.

"And I didn't know what you'd like Steve," you told him with a sad smile. "But just let me know what sounds good and I can go grab it for you."

You were about to start putting dollops of whipped cream on everyone's dessert when Eddie pushed his plate further out from him.

"I didn't ask for Cherry," he said with a sniff.

Everything went quiet.

"Uh," Dave looked at the other guys at the table. "Cherry is your favorite man."

"I don't know, I'm not in a cherry pie mood," Eddie dismissed. He looked up at you "Can I get cheesecake instead? No whipped cream."

"S-sure," you smiled.

You were about to grab the cherry pie from the table to bring it back when Steve reached out and pulled it towards him.

"I'll just take this one," he reasoned. "Cherry actually is my favorite, and I am definitely in a cherry pie mood."

Eddie laughed.

"Whatever you say Harrington," he teased with a roll of his eyes. "Guess you have to get an extra long run in tomorrow if you're indulging so much. Mr. Star Athlete over here."

The

"I'm not gonna say no to cherry pie," Steve shrugged then looked at you. "Can I get extra cream on mine honey?"

He winked at you and you felt your face heating up, but you kept your mouth shut. You went around piping the whipped cream on everyone else's desserts, then ran back to the kitchen to get Eddie's.

As soon as the door swung shut behind you, you started to feel sick.

Something was wrong...

It was just off, you'd been feeling it all night. But you couldn't put a finger on it until now.

It was Eddie...

He was still his funny self...for the most part. But just like the other day at Family Video, he just seemed to be operating on a different frequency. And you wondered for a second if maybe it was you...or maybe it was Steve...maybe the fact that Steve was here and he wasn't...being very discreet with his affections. Neither were you, if you were being honest.

Was he...angry? Jealous?

He was the one to invite Steve out in the first place, so it seemed. Something just didn't make sense...

Steve had to admit that he was having fun.

It had barely been a few days of being Eddie Munson, but it was great. He spent most of the weekend with the kids learning the basics of DnD and putting together some things for a campaign.

He still didn't really get the whole game part, actually. But spending time with the kids? He wouldn't say no.

Having to go to school again wasn't...the greatest. Especially when all of the teachers seemed to have it out for Eddie. Steve just...started paying a little more attention, stopped being a general menace during class. He dug deep to remember some of the coursework from last year...and vaguely wondered how much Eddie didn't pay attention in class in the first place. Steve was not a model student and he could still remember this stuff, so he figured Eddie should be getting an A+ in all of his classes he was repeating now for a second time.

He was sorely mistaken.

Eddie's friends were also...pretty nice too, he had to admit. He had never really given the Hellfire Club the time of day when he was still at Hawkins High, aside from the obvious, but they were actually pretty nice guys.

The music though? It had been the highlight of his week so far.

Steve hadn't ever really understood what the big whoop the theater kids got performing but it was an adrenaline rush, something he hadn't felt for months since he was no longer a star athlete. He hadn't even been playing the guitar but the high of being on that raised platform, having the lights in his eyes, having his heart beat in time with the drum. He hammed it up a bit on the stage once he felt confident enough, like he had seen in one concert or another.

It wasn't the kind of music he liked, really, but he could get used to it if only to chase that rush.

And Steve had felt like a king again when Jeff had clapped him on the shoulder at the end of the set and excitedly gushed on that being the first time he had ever fully landed some solo or another.

Except..."Eddie" hadn't nailed the solo. Eddie had.

And as infectious as the celebration was, it made him feel a little guilty that Eddie couldn't even properly celebrate what must have been an exciting moment. Instead he just sauntered out from the little alcove they had set up and watched Steve take the credit for his accomplishments.

Steve went through the motions, just like they had agreed on, for the rest of the night.

They went to Benny's with "Steve" in tow at "Eddie's" insistence—he couldn't be left alone with Eddie's friends, he just knew he would fuck something up and give it all away—and had their late night bites.

And you were there, laughing and chatting and doting on all of the guys, especially "Steve." Even though it sucked watching you kiss his cheek, knowing it was really Eddie inside…it was nice to know that he had something to look forward to once he got back into his own body.

Something real. Something he thought he had with Nancy.

Now that the remnants of dessert were pretty much over and the guys were just shooting the shit until Benny kicked them out, Steve wandered across the restaurant to the old jukebox to pick out some music.

He briefly wondered what the response would be if “Eddie” picked something like Billy Joel. He couldn't give less of a shit though. "Eddie" might not like it but Steve was a little tired of metal after hearing it all night, after all.

"Hey Eddie?" your voice came from behind him and he turned to face you.

"Yeah, hey...uh...sweetheart," he gave you an easy smile. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were doing ok," you explained. “You seem…I dunno, kinda off tonight.”

“What?” Steve faltered. He seemed off? How? If you could tell…could the others?

”Yeah you didn’t…want your regular order, you didn’t want pie,” you shrugged. “Didn’t even want whipped cream on your cheesecake.”

Shit.

How was it that he could flawlessly fake his way through a guitar solo, but not this?

"I...uh...," he started hesitantly, wracking his brain for an excuse. He dug deep, deeper than he thought was possible, and he came up with...

Dinner with his parents. His father pushing away a plateful of food. His mother looking tired and bored.

"Sometimes people's tastes change," he finished.

It was a painful answer for him to give...but he didn't think you and Eddie were close enough for your expression to crumple the way it did. It probably wasn't the kind of answer Eddie would give to a friend—he had seen how protective he had been over them even before this whole fiasco—but if it meant getting you off his back, he would easily do something that would push you away.

"You know I've been worried about you," you stared. "The other day, outside of Family Video. It was so incredibly scary. And if you're having a tough time..."

"Uh, yeah," Steve folded his arms across his chest awkwardly. "Sorry about that. It was just...just a bad high. I'm ok now. No need to worry."

"Ok," you nodded hesitantly. Steve thought you would just turn on your heel and walk away.

But you didn't.

“Listen I know we’re not…super close or anything,” you hesitated. Steve raised his eyebrows and nodded for you to continue. “I just…I want you to know you aren’t alone.”

“Thanks, uh, I appreciate that,” he nodded and smiled tightly.

"And if there is something going on, you can trust me."

"Of course."

"You know," you paused and looked down at your hands. It was several beats of you taking deep breaths and looking down at your hands, and Steve wondered if you were waiting for some kind of response...or thinking the right words to say next. You glanced up and frowned. "I had a-a c-crush on you in high school."

His heart dropped in his chest and suddenly it felt like Nancy all over again. Telling him that she didn't love him, telling him that it was over, that their relationship was fake, that she didn't even know she was ready to be in a relationship. Only to show up with Jonathan Byers to the Sadie Hawkins dance a few weeks later.

Steve thought everything was working out so well with you. He watched you...kiss his cheek.

Were you planning on breaking up with him?

He wanted to lash out, like a wild animal, tell you all of the things he wishes he could have said to Nancy.

Except...

Except he wasn't Steve Harrington at that moment, he was Eddie Munson.

And you weren't confessing your feelings in a way like someone with a crush would. You didn't look happy or excited. You didn't even really look like your usual sweet and kind self. You looked conflicted.

Because, he realized, he did watch you kiss his cheek. He, Steve, watched you kiss "Steve's" cheek.

If you weren't here to tell "Eddie" that you were breaking up with "Steve" to be with him, then what were you doing?

"I-I mean, we both did," you backtracked with a little laugh and Steve frowned. "Me and Terry. You remember Terry right? I mean, of course you do."

Steve didn't know who Terry was, but "Eddie" would.

"Of course I do."

""Right," you smiled. "Anyway, we both had a crush on you. And there was this time...I don't know, you don't want to hear about this."

"You're dating Steve now," he pointed out. "Why are you telling me this? Why are you telling me that you—"

"I guess," you interrupted him but hesitated again. "You seemed pretty lonely last year, all the times we talked. Even if they weren't...talks? Just small talk. But...after Mickey left for college and you stayed behind—"

That's right, Mickey Caldwell...and his sister Terry...

"--well you have the band and all...but...no one even wanted to be your partner in class but me. And now...you have to do it again and I'm sure it's even harder now."

Steve was catching on.

You weren't there to tell "Eddie" that you were breaking up with "Steve" to be with him. You were just being a good friend. Because even though Eddie had his group of misfit friends...

He was lonely.

Steve knew the feeling. Aside from Robin and the kids...he really didn't have anyone around either. He had just been thinking about how nice it was to spend time with Eddie and his friends after all.

Steve had been jealous that Eddie was spending all of this time with the kids...taking them away from Steve, when he was just as lonely as Steve was...if not more so.

It gave him an idea...

"So," you broke Steve from his thoughts. "If you ever...want to talk. I'm here for you. You have me, always, if ever you want."

You smiled then. Bright and hopeful.

"Well, thanks, sweetheart," he nodded and placed a hand on your shoulder. "I appreciate it...really...it's very nice of you. You're a really good friend."

He didn't see—didn't notice—how your smile fell as he walked past you to get back to the table with the rest of the guys.

Eddie walked into the familiar darkness of the Harrington house, a good exhaustion settling in his bones as he trudged up the stairs and into his bedroom. 

He went through the motions of getting ready for bed. with a peaceful smile on his face. It had been a good day, the likes of which he really hadn’t felt in a long time. If ever. 

The show at the Hideout then dinner at Benny’s. Dancing with you, kissing you, and holding you in his arms.

He could see your smile in his mind’s eye clear as day.

He didn’t want to delude himself into thinking it was love or…or happiness…it was just joy. Plain and simple. And it brought him so much comfort, knowing he could be the one to provide that for you.

Once he was in bed though, and he replayed specific moments over again, that comfort soon faded.

He tried to sleep, he really did.

But every thought he had, he thought of you. Looking perfect in your little uniform. Your laugh as you spoke to everyone, the special attention you gave him. You looked at him the way he always wanted you to.

You moaned the way he could only ever have imagined when he kissed your neck. It was filthy and still ringing in his ears hours later.

He’d wanted to touch you, just like he did in his dream that morning and it was even nicer than he had imagined.

The only thing that would have made it better was if he was in his own body. If it was him, Eddie Munson, that you were looking at and feeling things for and moaning for.

It was with all of that and at the reminder of the dream that he had been so rudely pulled from that morning, that Eddie started getting hot under the collar. 

It wasn’t about sex, really; it was intimacy. And that’s what he wanted more than anything. The closeness with you. To know you. To be with you.

He closed his eyes and imagined your smile directed at him again, the way you put your hand on his shoulder when you asked if everyone was alright, and then fixed his hair a little bit when you went to leave. 

His hair…he’d always been sensitive about it and even in this other body…in his own body…giving it a tug always helped get his motor running.

Eddie reached up and gave Steve’s hair an experimental tug, the short few days not nearly enough for him to be used to the difference in length and texture. It felt crunchy from all the product he had put in and it immediately felt uncomfortable on his fingers.

No touching the hair, noted.

He vaguely wondered, were his nerves on fire because this body was sensitive and aroused and receptive to your attention. Or was it because he, Eddie Munson, resided inside.

Only one way to find out.

He palmed himself over the comforter, then over his sweats, but it wasn’t enough. 

Eddie didn’t hesitate to strip himself of his sweats and the suffocating briefs, and he propped the pillows behind him in a more comfortable way so he could…well so he could watch if he wanted to.

Right now he just wanted to imagine. To feel.

The thought of touching himself had vaguely crossed his mind the other day, after he’d jumped into a cold shower shortly after he’d woken up with morning wood. He wondered if that was crossing a line though. Steve’s dick…was just a dick. Just like his dick was a dick. The same but different. And he’d seen different ones before and yeah some were weird or different sized…did it matter?

If Eddie thought about it from a mechanical sense…a car was a car, no matter who the owner was, or how cautious or rough the driver was…and even two cars of the same make and model could have their very unique quirks…

As long as everything worked and you got from Point A to Point B right?

So he closed his eyes and imagined.

You were there, of course, back outside of Benny’s. He was making you laugh and twirling you around, just like he had earlier that night. Watching your little uniform skirt balloon out just the slightest bit. It wasn’t ruffly or anything, just a standard waitress uniform with a straight skirt.

It didn’t take much touching to get him fully hard; he’d spent enough time exploring to know what he liked so he just let the feelings guide him in this new body.

He licked his palm several times then spit in his hand before he held the shaft loosely. He gave it a few loose strokes before he tightened his grip a little and twisted, hissing at the sweet friction. 

But this was his fantasy, so your uniform could be anything. Flowier, shorter, enough to see the frilly lace edge of your panties when he twirled you and the skirt flared.

“Didn’t know you were trying to turn this sweet moment into a peep show,” you giggled at him and swatted at his chest as he pulled you into his chest to rock together with him.

“I dunno honey,” he sighed. “I think I would be seeing more than just some lace if this was a peep show.”

“Well, what did you have in mind, big boy?”

The hand that had been resting near his head immediately went down to cup and squeeze his balls, and his throat got tighter as he held in a strangled moan. He wasn’t…too sure if he liked it all that much…but he was positive that he didn’t dislike it. He could make himself grow to like it if he needed to.

He stilled the stroking to run his fingers over the head; a favorite little move of his where he pivoted his wrist, letting the joints in his fingers run over the tip and around the head of his cock, hitting all of his sensitive spots in varying intervals. It wasn’t the same, his fingers weren’t as long now, as he noted while he was playing the guitar earlier. 

Regardless, pleasure still surged through him, so it got the job done.

“No peeking,” you whispered against his lips and you covered his eyes with his hands. He’d asked for your panties and you’d agreed without hesitation. If this wasn’t a dream, he would never have been that lucky. He chuckled as your hands pulled away from his and it took everything in him not to look through his fingers at the sound of the rustling of your uniform. 

Suddenly your hands were on the waist of his jeans, working the button open and the zipper downwards.

“Honey, what are you doing?” he teased. “You being naughty?” He just about pulled his hands away from his eyes and you snatched your hands away from him.

“Nooo,” you sing-songed. “No looking yet, I’ll tell you when.”

The ache for him to chase his release was different than he was used to. The best way to describe what he usually felt was…dulcet…smooth…it danced along his nerve endings and made him want more. Drove him to do more, to explore more. A siren’s song to tug and twist and tease until he was floating. But now it was almost…primordial. It leached into his skin and deep into his bones; a hefty, cloying need that would grip his entire being whole and drag him into the depths of the earth itself if it could.

It was a delicious contrast, the difference between the softness of your hand wrapped around him and the slight drag from your panties as you used them to help get him off.

You spit on his tip and let it mingle with his precum, let it slide over the sensitive skin.

Eddie spit in his hand again, trying to achieve that feeling that his imagination conjured up but was just outside of the corporeal.

“Do you like it?” you asked and he could hear the feral grin in your voice.

“I like it,” he moaned. 

“Do you like me?”

“I love you,” he said breathlessly. “Fuck, I would love you so if you just let me.”

He was close, it was euphoric. His nerves exploding, synapses firing as he twisted his hand around the head just so, squeezed his balls again, and then the base of his cock.

“Ok you can look now.”

And he did, directly into those mischievous, knowing eyes of yours as you looked right back at him.

“Cum for me Steve.”

And…he couldn’t…he couldn’t…

Eddie opened his eyes and stared around the room–a room that wasn’t his–looked down at the hands that weren’t his, touching the cock that wasn’t his. 

Because as much as Eddie could simply…compartmentalize and rationalize for however long he had been in his little fantasy…

It was Steve, it was all Steve. All you wanted right now was Steve Harrington and not Eddie Munson. You probably would never want Eddie.

And maybe one day–if he was still cursed to live like this, if he was stuck in this body until the end of his life–he could live with the fact that you wanted Steve.

But as his pleasure evaded him and all of the sad thoughts returned, he simply couldn’t escape the simple fact that his honey didn’t want him…she wanted someone else.

The guys had left shortly after your...interaction with Eddie.

Your confession.

The sweet kiss Steve had given you before they had left was...wonderful. But it was like the glue holding together the broken vase on that one episode of the Brady Bunch.

The feelings were building, the pressure too much, and before long...you sprung a leak and the reality of what you had done hit you. It had you shaking. Benny must have known something was wrong; he had asked you all through your closing tasks if you were alright.

"You good kid?" He asked. "Cuz I can finish up if you wanna get home. I know today's your busy day."

Truth be told, he always asked you that, but the extra edge of concern to his voice was a dead giveaway that you weren't doing a good job of holding it together.

“Nah Ben,” you smiled meekly. “I’m ok. Tired. But I’ll make it. Thanks.”

You started hyperventilating by the time you got into your car.

“Stupid, you’re so stupid,” you muttered to yourself. “How could you tell him?”

You weren’t even sure what possessed you to say anything, what compelled you to stop and say those dumb words.

You know, I had a crush on you.

What did you expect him to say...confess that he had a crush on you too?

Declare his undying love for you?

Instead he just called you a friend.

By the time you reached the 5th street intersection, you rationalized that, at the very least, you hadn’t mentioned that you still had a crush on Eddie. And as you pulled into your driveway, you were panicking again because…well what did this mean now that Steve was spending time with Eddie?

Would he say anything? God, did Steve already know?

It really was nice that Steve was hanging out with Eddie...they seemed to get along well enough. And yeah Eddie had the guys but…well, it wasn’t a stretch to say that Eddie could use as many friends on his side as he could get. He always put on a brave face but that didn’t mean he never felt lonely. Or alone. Stuck in a place he desperately didn’t want to be.

You just wanted to tell him it was ok. That he had you if he want—

"God, stop," you slammed your hands against the steering wheel as though it would force the thoughts from your brain. As though it would stop your heart from aching. "Stop thinking about him, you have to stop thinking about him."

Because the more you thought about Eddie, the more you’d want to comfort him.

And the more you wanted to comfort him, the more you’d want to hold him and kiss him.

And he’d made it plenty clear tonight that he didn’t see you as anything more than Mickey’s Kid Sister’s Silly Friend.

Or at least that’s just how it felt.

Another busybody townie who couldn’t mind their own business, who had to offer words of encouragement, who pitied him.

No. Not that. He didn't give people who pitied him the time of day. What if...

Bile rose in your throat as you came to a realization.

What if he didn’t just see you as another silly townie? What if he had known? He had known you had a crush on him all along, and he had taken pity on you. Because you were Terry's friend, he didn't want you to get hurt. And now that you were with Steve...he couldn't let you keep your hopes up anymore? You had a real boyfriend now.

That was it...

He was just...being nice to you all this time.

And that...hurt.

The realization of all that wasted time. Years spent thinking...hoping...

You made it into your house, went through the motions of getting ready for bed, and numbly said goodnight to your mom as your mind raced and raced and your heart broke even more.

It wasn't until you were tucked into bed, head filled with sad thoughts of every time you thought that maybe...just maybe Eddie liked you back, that you remembered.

Your diary.

Some silly old pink think that Terry had gotten you for your birthday years ago. You didn't write in it too often—you hadn't ever really been a diary person—certainly not recently. It was tucked into your nightstand underneath magazines and random junk from your school bag.

You sat up, turned the lamp on, and opened the drawer. You dug through the junk until you found it.

You flipped indiscriminately through pages filled with doodles and random thoughts. Until you came across entries from your freshman year at Hawkins High.

Silly things about class schedules and how mean Mrs. O'Donnell was and how you were not good in geometry.

And then...hearts and stars and flowers and one name repeated over and over and over...

Eddie Munson. Edward Munson. Mrs. Edward Munson.

You ran your fingers over the indentations your pen made in the pages as you read your own silly words.

Eddie invited us to sit with them at lunch.Terry said no, that she wanted to sit closer to the cheerleaders. Maybe they would be nicer to us if they actually knew we existed.

Eddie held open the door for me when I passed him in the hallway.

Eddie got his driver's license. He and his uncle fixed up this van and now he's driving Mickey and Terry to school. He asked if I wanted a ride too, said he would let me ride shotgun on Fridays. He's so sweet.

Eddie called me sweetheart today. I swear my heart stopped. I am dead. I have died.

Terry said she has a crush on someone but she won't tell me who it is. I really want to tell her that I have a crush on Eddie. Maybe if she knew, she could say nice things to him about me.

She likes him too. She wants him to ask her to prom. She keeps asking who my crush is and of course I can't tell her. Because he would obviously choose her over me, who am I kidding?

It's the last entry in the diary and the page is warped from old tears and scribbled over with pen.

After that day, you buried the diary in your nightstand. You kept your thoughts to yourself. Writing them down made them real and scary. Instead you let your secrets fester and grow and rot inside of your heart.

You didn't realize you'd started crying until fresh tears started hitting the already-warped page.

"Shit," you scrubbed at your eyes for a second and then stared at the journal as your throat got tight.

Eddie Munson. Eddie Munson. Eddie Munson.

His name written over and over and over again. Obsessively.

Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler.

Just like Steve had been with Nancy. Always talking about her and thinking about her.

All of your wasted feelings. From both of you.

But Steve had moved on. And so could you.

You ripped the warped page out of the diary and tore it to pieces. And then the next page. And the next one. Over and over until your thoughts and feelings were ripped to confetti on your bedspread.

No more.

It was time to move on from Eddie Munson.

Tag List:

@luna-munson83 @kaitebugg03 @invaderzia1 @delusionalbabe @secretdryrose @eddiesguitarskills @simplyundeniable98 @imaslutforcuddles @hanobe8 @josephquinncore @champagnejoker @strawberrysodaslut @fangirling-4-ever @sadbitchfangirl @rosaline-black @vxlkyrieee @aysheashea @micheledawn1975 @thora-jane @pricelessemotion @lfaewrites @hazydespair @realsuper-dark @novelnovella @jaime1110 @manda-panda-monium

#eddie munson x reader #Steve Harrington x reader #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst #Steve harrington fluff #Steve harrington angst #Eddie munson smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #Eddie munson stranger things #Steve harrington stranger things #freaky friday au #god this took forever but im so happy with where it landed #holy shit how are they all gonna fix this now

[lokis-army-77]

Summoning

Demon!Eddie Munson x female reader

Word Count: 3281

The Reader is home alone and decided to try her hand at summoning something. This wasn't the best idea she has ever had or is it?

Warning: 18+ Demon summoning, dubious consent, CNC, fingering, unprotected sex, PinV sex, rough sex, multiple orgasms, squirting.

Next>> Series Masterlist

Masterlist (Taglist linked here)

When no one is home you get bored. When no one is home you do some questionable things. 

Surrounded by candles and a horrible chalk-drawn summoning circle on the dark hardwood of the living room floor, I sat criss-cross with an old book clucked in my hands. It was a book of spells lent to me by my friend, who was helping me delve into my newly formed interest in the occult. 

She had warned me against trying out advanced spells, really, she had warned me about trying out any spells in general. Given my lack of knowledge, she had said, something could go horribly wrong. But she wasn’t here now and I couldn’t help my curiosity. 

Leaning forward, over the summoning circle, I began to copy the symbols which needed to be placed on the outside. Some, from what I understood were for protection and some were for containing the demon within the circle, both things that made me feel better about what I was fixing to do. 

Sitting up on my knees, I sat the chalk down and wiped my hand of its residue. I settled the book on my lap and looked at the summoning spell. I had taken Latin as an elective in high school, so pronouncing the words shouldn’t be a problem. 

As I started to read the words, the book felt heavy in my hands. So far, nothing was happening but as I kept going a soft breeze began to pick up in the room, making the skirt of my dress flutter around my legs. I paid it no mind as I kept on. 

My heart was beating out of my chest as I started the chant over again. Inside the circle, red sparks of light began to appear, flashing in the darkness. The flames of the candles started to flare as I spoke and the smell of sulfur wafted through the air. 

The energy in the room was palpable, something was coming. Slowly the white lines of the chalk circle began to glow a bright red and from those lines, a set of blackened fingers broke through. At the sight of them, my voice wavered in concern and excitement. Another hand reached out soon after and to my absolute amazement, the circle opened up completely, revealing a bright red flash. Wincing away at the light I covered my eyes.  

The air had stilled, no longer blowing the fabric of my dress around loosely. But the energy was still there, now more distinct than it had been before. Slowly, I pulled my hand away from my eyes, only to be greeted by a smiling figure standing at the edge of the circle farthest from me. 

He watched carefully as I eyed him up and down. If this truly was a demon, he was more human looking than I had expected, although, I’m not too sure what I was expecting in the first place. 

His curly hair fell over most of his face, leaving only his mouth open to my sight with his pointy teeth. Hidden by the mop of hair, at the top of his head, I could see a pair of obsidian horns pointing out behind him. From here, I could not tell how long they may be. 

Going down his body, he was naked, save for the tattered, black cloth tied to his waist. His chest was toned and smooth, nipples pierced with glinting golden bars. I gulped as I noticed the wings behind him, sinched in close to his back. 

“Why have you summoned me, mortal?” His voice reverberated around the room. 

Sitting straighter on my knees, I peered up to where his eyes must be. “I-I-” I began to stutter. I didn’t actually think this spell would work and I certainly didn’t think it would bring me one of the most attractive men, or demons, I have ever seen. 

“Well?” He questioned, bored. 

I shook my head of any thoughts and cleared my throat nervously. “I was just fooling around,” I confessed to the demon weakly. “I just wanted to see if it could really be done.”

He laughed a deep grating sound. He tipped his head forward, looking at the summoning circle I had drawn. “I’m impressed.” His sarcastic tone wasn’t lost on me. “That an amateur mortal with her poorly drawn runes could call upon me.” He bent down, long fingers reaching out to touch the outer chalk circle. 

A string of fear shot up my spine when he looked back at me with a sharp-toothed grin. Something was wrong but it didn’t stop the sudden, out-of-place, pang of need from coursing through my body to my core. 

“You can’t truly believe that these unskilful and clumsily drawn binding runes would keep me in here.” 

“I followed what the book told me to do, you can not leave that circle.” My voice quivered. I now had no confidence in those protection runes. 

“Oh you innocent little thing,” He tutted. I watched in horror as his fingers whipped away at the chalk, breaking open the circle. 

I cringed away as a wave of power was emitted from the break. “Please,” I begged him, to spare me or fuck me, I do not know.

He stood to his full height, wings now stretched out to their full glory, no longer being trapped by the invisible bonds of the circle. They were wide and black, almost identical to how a bat’s wings would look, and very intimidating. 

“Begging already? I haven’t even done anything.” He took a step forward. 

I moved from my knees, backing away from him on my bottom. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me for summoning you.” 

“It’s a little late for apologies, isn’t it, little one? I’m already here.” 

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice wavered as he came closer still.

“An offering.” He stated simply. 

I just stared at him, eyes wide.

“Your eternal soul, undying devotion, servitude, maybe even all three.” The demon let out an eerie laugh.

I couldn’t help but press my legs together tightly, trying to release some of the pressure building between them at his words. Why was I feeling this way? I was in certain danger and yet I couldn’t help the carnal need making my body buzz.

The demon laughed again, noticing what I was doing. “I think we have found how you may serve me.” He bent down in front of me and reached out his hand to caress his fingers up the bare skin of my calf. Goosebumps rose to the surface at the feeling. His hand was burning as it went further up my leg, tangling into the hem of my dress which had ridden back on my thighs. 

My heart was beating out of my chest as he continued to move his hand up under my dress and stop just before reaching the apex. His thumb, carefully smoothed over the skin of my leg and pressed into the fabric of my panties, finding my clit immediately. 

A sharp whine escaped me as he began to rub my clit harshly through the cotton garment. In my gut, I knew I should not be letting this happen. No, I should be kicking and screaming and begging for this man, no this demon, to let me go but I couldn’t, the words would not form and lust had begun to cloud every rational thought I might have had since I saw him standing in front of me. 

My legs parted wider for him and my hips began to buck to the fast-paced movements he had created with his thumb. In my lower abdomen, I could feel a growing need to be filled by him and him alone.

“Please,” I begged again, this time more wantonly than scared.

“Beg some more, I like it.” His grin was malicious as he moved my panties out of the way and stuffed a finger into my pussy, all the while still circling my clit with his thumb. My cunt gripped him tightly, fluttering around him when he moved his finger in a come hither motion.  

The feeling of his large finger inside of me had me falling apart, moaning and writing under his touch. I fell back onto my elbows, head lulling to the side as I watched him with lidded eyes. An overwhelming flood of need and arousal was building beneath my skin, heated and ready to boil over. 

“Please, please touch me. I need to feel you.” I cried out to him. 

“I am touching you little one.” I could see the glint of his eyes through his hair now, two pitch black spheres showing no emotion as he thrust his finger in and out of my soaking cunt. 

“Fuck,” I groaned, raising my hips into his thumb. “Need you to fuck me. Please, I need you to fill me with your cock. Please, please, please.” My voice became higher in pitch the more I begged him. 

He smiled, showing off all his pointy teeth, then stopped his hand, pulling his fingers away from my cunt. 

I clenched around nothing, crying in displeasure at the emptiness. My cry soon turned into a surprised shriek as the demon took hold of my ankle in a firm grip and began to drag me into the summoning circle with him. 

There, in the broken circle, surrounded by candles, he snapped his fingers, ridding me of my clothes. Naked beneath his intimidating form, I shivered. I tried to bring my hands up to cover myself, but he caught them with his other hand, pinning them above my head.

“Do not hide from me.” His wings flared out as he spoke. 

I only nodded in submission.

He said nothing as he slid his hand down from my ankle to catch the back of my knee, pulling my legs wide so he could move in between them. He was still covered by the thin cloth around his hips but even so, I could make out the protrusion of his hardened cock. 

Biding my lip, I squirmed under his hold, wanting nothing more than to see what he had hidden. It couldn’t have been small with the way it was jutting through the cloth. 

“Ah!” A moan flew from my lips as he pushed two fingers into my cunt quickly and then out again to rub the slick juices over my clit before taking his cock out from behind its curtain. 

My eyes widened and my back went ridged along the floor at what I saw. He was massive, unlike I had ever seen. The cock was long, thick, and slightly curved up. The demon caught the worried look on my face and chuckled darkly.

“Don’t worry, little one, it will fit.” He sounded determined as he brought the head closer to my cunt, rubbing it along the wetness before slowly pushing it inside. 

I couldn't help but moan deeply as his girth stretched me out beyond anything ever had. Just the tiny bit he had in me felt like so much. I was being pried apart at the seam and it felt as though the pain would never become pleasurable. 

His hand, which was holding my wrists, came up to grip the back of my knee tightly as he pushed in more and more. I could feel my body tensing, sweat breaking out all over at the stress. 

“Fuck,” I groaned, bringing my hands up to reach for him. “Stop please.” I begged, “Won’t fit.” My nails clawed at his abdomen. 

“Yes, it will.” He pushed in more, over halfway in before he eventually just slammed his hips forward. He grunted in pleasure before rocking his hips into me. 

A scream shot out of me and my back arched off the floor. My cunt clamped around the full length of the demon’s hard cock as I felt it practically pulsing in me. The pain of the suddenness of his thrust set a trimmer through my body but it soon subsided into a need for him to move more than he was.

Short, labored breaths filled my lungs as I squeezed my eyes closed. I could feel every bump and ridge of his cock inside of me as he began to thrust. 

“So tight.” He growled, leaning his head down, tongue slipping out to lick at the outer shell of my ear. It was warm and wet and surprisingly, it was forked down the middle like a snake. 

The once painful sensation gave way to more mouthwatering leisure. My pussy was becoming wetter with each deep-seated thrust he made, rocking me back against the floor. 

“Yes, yes, yes. Need more.” I pleaded, arching more into his touch. 

The demon moved his hands around my waist, each resting on my back, large fingers splayed out. He lifted my body up at my hips, leaving only the tops of my shoulders and my head resting on the floor. 

He wasn’t very vocal but deep growls and grunts sounded from his throat as he began to pummel himself into my aching cunt. Shouts and screeches of pleasure flew from my parted lips as I tried to reach out to him, to hold onto something, tether myself to reality as he worked my body. 

“Fuck,” I arched my back as much as I could manage when his hand came up to expertly play with my clit again. The stimulation from his deft fingers and his quick, deep thrusts began to build upon the pleasure I was feeling. 

“More,” I gritted out, cunt greedy for release. My toes curled and my legs stiffened. I was coming nearer and nearer to my climax and I knew he could feel it.

The gritty snarls the demon emitted as he fucked into me were echoing in the room. The sound of them went straight to my leaking pussy. His fingers worked faster, spreading the wetness around. I was soaked, the lewd squelching sounds were testimony of it. 

“Let go little one,” He commanded, propelling himself faster into me. 

I obeyed him, rapturous screams and cries fleeing from me as my body shook in his tight hold. My arousal gushed around his cock and dribbled down my ass and onto the floor, leaving us in a pool of my own quickly cooling cum. 

“That’s it.” 

At his praise, I felt another pang of deep-seated need spring through me. He kept up his blistering pace all the way through my orgasm. I was already sensitive and fucked out, but he looked like he was just getting started. 

My body writhed in his hands. The one that had been toying with my clit now moved to my breasts, pinching and pulling at the nipples. Just feeling his warmth on the peaked buds was enough to have me sighing in elation. 

“More- ah! More, please give me more.” I pushed my chest up into his touch. 

“You want more little whore?” He grunted. 

At the moment I answered, he rutted into me harshly, the head of his cock burying itself against my cervix far within me. My answer gargled down in my throat with the mewling moan which replaced it. 

My mouth was left agape and my eyes began to roll back in my head. The demon was unrelenting, fucking into me at a pace that could only be described as animalistic. Even the glimpses of his eyes told me he was becoming more and more feral. 

The sounds of pure bliss I had been making became silent as it kept building and building again. For the second time, I was nearing my orgasm. When my pussy would grip the demon’s cock, I could feel all of him as he resisted my hold. 

“Yes, yes. I want to watch you come undone around me.” I could barely hear his words over the rushing of blood in my ears. 

With a few more thrusts and a twist of my nipple, I was once again gushing around his cock. This time though, he pulled out, leaving my used hole gaping and wanting for more. 

My breathing was hard like I had run a marathon just now, as I rested beneath the demon. I was so exhausted that I could only whimper in protest as his strong hands flipped me over onto my stomach. 

“I am not through with you yet, little one.” He sneered, rubbing his hot, wet cock over the curve of my ass. 

Having no strength, I could only lay there on the ground, eyes closed, a body waiting as I felt his hands roaming my clammy body and bucking my hips up, and guiding himself through my folds. 

“Please,” I begged him, not sure if I could take anymore. 

“Do not beg.” He stated simply. “I will do as I please.” Then, with no warning, his cock pushed all the way into me. 

The new position allows me to feel him impossibly deeper within me, like he may burst through my cervix and into my womb. I could not control my sobs of painful pleasure as he began to impale me. My fingernails dug crescent moons into my palms as I tried to keep myself steady on the floor. The power he put behind his thrusts was pushing and jolting me forward. 

Again, quicker this time, my orgasm began to build and so did my tears. I had become so overwhelmed with excruciating desire that all I could do was cry. My body was vibrating, shaking so violently with the fast-approaching need to release that the demon had to crowd me with his body to keep me still. 

He was grunting into my ear, an enjoyable, wild sound. At the first out-of-beat thrust, I knew he had to be close now. He pushed himself into the gummy walls of my pussy, his tight balls, slapping torturously at my clit just enough to stimulate the sore and puffy nub. 

With a loud wail of a cry, I came again. The wetness between my thighs felt wetter somehow as, and as I looked down to watch, a stream of liquid shot from me onto the floor below. The demon reached his hand down to my clit and began to rub once more, disrupting the stream, and causing it to spray everywhere. I tried to clamp my legs together. 

“Please!” I sobbed, “Please, I can’t.” 

He only kept going. I had no time to recover from the third orgasm when a fourth came crashing down upon me. It was now that I heard a short gasp leave the demon before he gave a final thrust into me, pouring his unholy seed into my convulsing and waiting cunt. As he came, his wings flapped, blowing out the candles in the room.  

Never had I felt so full and sated. He let me down, as gently as a demon could, and I laid them splayed out on the cool floor. The room was quiet, free from the sloppy sounds of sex, save for my rapid breaths. 

“Thank you,” I mumbled into the floor. 

“Do not thank me yet. I will be back for more. You are now mine for eternity, little one.” With one last touch of his hand along my bare back, he was gone, at least I assumed so until I turned around to look around the dark room. The energy that came with him was gone and the room felt empty. 

Weirdly enough, even though he was a demon and I was now bound to him somehow, I felt like it wasn’t something to be fearful of. I missed his presence and looked forward to when we would meet again.

Eddie Taglist: @loveofmylife12@ellabellabus07@wickedwitchofwest@siriusstwelveyears@ameliakf13 @milly-louise @darkscrossfire @harrypotter-posts @dedeinspire @ccosmic-illusion @eddiesbirdie @castiels-gracex @luvwanda @whimsywisher @wool-hat7 @callsignthunder @corrodedhawkins @stefans-wife

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #demon eddie #demon eddie munson

[gravedigginbbydoll]

Imagining first-gen Latine/a/o! Reader x Eddie ft the rest of the Spicy Six bc I can

They move to Hawkins after the great earthquake, the town is still shaken up, but coming back together, their family moves for job opportunities popping up left and right.

Reader is out of place in Hawkins, the nearest Latin market or store is miles away, and they usually get their goods from a family friend a few towns away.

Reader gets teased at Hawkins High for their body hair and how dark it is/ how much they have, only for Eddie Munson to stand up for them, making fun of the jocks for being bothered by something like body hair.

Reader tutors Eddie; he’s not risking flunking again. 

Eddie invites reader to sit at his table with Hellfire Club, knowing reader usually eats lunch in the library or outside. Reader denies in fear of being made fun of for their leftovers, different from everyone’s lunch. 

Eddie still pushes to get closer to reader, consistently bothering them in their shared classes and always trying to make them laugh, eventually successful. 

Reader befriends Eddie’s friends, meeting the rest of the gang and Hellfire Club.

If reader has another native language, Eddie is infatuated with it and how they speak it. He constantly begs to hear it and blushes at reader's accent.

Reader bashfully invites Eddie to a family function. When he sees the food is unfamiliar to him, he gets excited and asks the reader to explain the dishes. 

At the party, you get him to dance with you due to coaxing from family and lots of teasing, and Eddie is a sucker for any excuse to be near you.

During the summer, reader meets Argyle during his visit to Hawkins with Jonathan and gets excited to meet another Latino.

Reader and Argyle bond over family experiences and cultural similarities 

Eddie is so happy to see reader begin to feel at home. 

Reader first falls head over heels for Eddie when he punches a man at The Hideout for drunkenly being xenophobic at the bar, complaining about immigrants in Hawkins. 

Once you begin dating, Eddie starts taking tutoring lessons to learn your family’s native language to better communicate with them. 

Your older family members tear up at the gesture, immediately doting over him and stuffing him with food and treats, backhanded complimenting him about his hair while also trying to manage it. 

Steve asks to learn your native language from your older family, and Eddie wants to impress the ladies with his language skills. Still, he can’t fix his accent to save his life. 

Robin laughs at Steve because she can speak your family’s language, with slight imperfections, but they are genuinely impressed. 

Your family gives all your friends embarrassing nicknames: Robin is “blond,” Steve is “flirt,” Eddie is “big hair” or “rocker,” Nancy is “skinny,” Jonathan is “blonde boy,” and Argyle is “hippie boy.”

Argyle’s visits to Hawkins often include visiting your home to fill up on comfort food and get doted on by the women in your family. 

Eddie has deemed himself an unofficial translator after a while to help your family with any difficulties.

On a special occasion, before graduating from school, your family asks Jonathan to take photos of you in some traditional clothing they’ve had for you saved for a special occasion. 

Eddie is in absolute awe at how amazing you look when he sees the photos, begging for a copy for himself. 

Eddie is so talkative, but when you explain your family’s culture and traditions to him, he shuts up and listens, staring at you with those big brown doe eyes. 

Your family teases you about him, jokingly asking you to prepare for marriage and grandkids.

Eddie sets out to learn how to make foods from your family so he can impress you.

Just! Ahhhh! This is so self-indulgent, but I love it so much. Also, I need Argyle to be my bestie; thank you. Also this is retribution for how this fandom treated my goofy boy Argyle.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #argyle stranger things #stranger things spicy six #the fruity four #the spicy six #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x latine! reader #yeah this is self indulgent #daughter of immigrant/s core lol #also I will NEVER forgive some of y'all for how you treated Eduardo #My man deserves all the hype

[hellfire--cult]

Request:

i’d love a sequel where there’s a bit of a “day in the life” with the new happy family, or maybe like some vignettes of them getting settled in and making their new home their own? i would literally love any more content in this universe but there’s my ideas in the hat! 🤍

-

Your wish is my command 💚

Hook!Eddie x Fem!Reader

wc 3.5K

Read the main story here. 🌟

Summary: This is what happens after everyone starts living in the home. A recap of everything that's happened until we reach the present.

You can always support your writers by hitting THE REBLOG button! 💚

You can always send requests for this beautiful couple! My ask is open!

Hooked on You: After Story

Life after was something everyone had to get used to.

The boys had to be given names, full names, and thankfully Nancy who has some contacts in the newspaper industry pulled some strings for your “orphaned” family.

You didn’t give specifics, but told her that you started dating a man who was struggling to keep his family afloat. They had no records since they were living anywhere they could, and he just picked the kids up like strays. He and his best friend took care of the kids, and that it was a coincidence in meeting when you hired a ‘cleaning service’. 

But it wasn’t just any name. 

When you showed up with a big smile to your face at dinner, while everyone was enjoying themselves with the food, you had grasped in your hands the adoption papers for each boy in the group. 

Through tears, and smiles, they had hugged you one by one, appreciating your kindness but overall, calling you a different name. 

Mom.

Eddie, whose last name he chose was Munson, was stunned when he asked if they were going to call him Dad and each boy grimaced at that outcome, shaking their heads. After that Eddie had played a game of chase with the children, playing as the big bad bear, with his hands above his head, reaching for the boys.

That was another change.

“So, this is a– what?” 

“Prosthetic. It’s not normal to have a hook as a second hand here, and this has motor sensors, so you can basically have another hand!” You had explained to him, and he was stunned at the realization that he could have his left hand back. But sometimes, he discards the prosthetic, and goes back to his hook because he feels complete with it, that’s what he had told you.

Steve, now Steve Harrington, had acquired the second mom title. Whenever you were gone, or busy, or simply tired, he took care of the boys, played with them, and helped them clean the house. 

It was summer time, but you knew you will have to enroll the kids into school soon, but you had to teach them basic things, such as the ABC, numbers, some math, a little bit of history and biology, and Eddie and Steve listened intently, giving their own teachings here and there. 

You didn’t want your boys to go into middle school without knowing at least the basics, because then everything would be too complex, so thankfully, Robin, who is a teacher, happily comes once a week to give her own teaching to the kids. You found out that Steve and her had developed a strong friendship during the two months you all had been living together.

Another thing they discovered was music.

While the kids loved normal pop songs, except for Mike who had taken a liking to punk music, Steve had loved the 80’s vibe, sticking to it, and then some 90’s, but poor Eddie had not found himself in any of those genres. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was that he might like, but it wasn’t any of that. 

You had tried almost everything, latin music, grunge, rock, techno, but he was still not feeling any of those genres. You were in your room when trying everything in his music app on his phone, and you sighed when he, once again, said he didn’t feel anything from it. 

“I really don’t know what else to play Eds…” He grabbed his phone, which you had taught everyone in the house how to use and bought one for each of them, and started scrolling. 

“There was something about that Rock genre that you showed me… Something is there, but not fully?” You frowned in confusion at his words, and you had to think outside the box. You were showing him things you liked, so maybe, you had to show him things that you wouldn’t normally listen to.

“Hang on…” You grabbed his phone again and searched for a particular playlist. You grabbed his headphones from his night table, and urged him to put them on. He was confused, but did so anyways, and you pressed play onto the playlist.

Eddie’s eyes widened at the sudden strum of a guitar, wild, heavy, powerful, chord after chord. You bit your lip as you stared at his face, and by the smile that was spreading on his cheeks you knew that you hit the jackpot. 

He spent an entire day listening to Metallica. Then the next day to Slipknot. Then Guns ‘n Roses. My Chemical Romance. Megadeth. Rammstein.

The man was a metalhead.

After finding their own music, they had to find their own style. The boys almost wore the same things, sometimes jeans, sometimes shorts, sometimes plaid shirts, sometimes stamped shirts, sneakers… Steve had gone for the rich boy vibe, as you called it. He likes polos, dress pants, tight denims, sweaters, maybe a cardigan.

Now Eddie, you were surprised. He liked everything black, ripped, and he loved the sound of chains as an accessory on his hip. When he found out there were shirts of the bands he started to like, he bought a ton of them, some in white, some in black. One thing that stayed authentic of Eddie, was the black bandana, which he sometimes uses on his head still, or he puts it in his back pocket.

But one of your favorite things in the whole day was going into your room, to finally be alone with him. He was always reading a book, and you came to find out that he loved fantasy. It was funny, because he came out of a fairytale himself, but yet he loves those kinds of books. He devoured Tolkien in a week. 

He would always put whatever he was reading down to welcome you into bed, embracing you in his arms, gentle kisses that always turned into heated ones because that’s another thing that happened. He couldn’t keep himself from touching you. 

And you didn’t want him to. The boys at first made gagging noises whenever he came into the kitchen for breakfast and gave you a morning kiss, lingering there more than it should, but they soon got used to it. Whenever he could, he was wrapping an arm around you, pulling you close, kissing your neck, your face, your shoulder, anywhere he saw skin. 

So you had to introduce him to condoms.

He wasn’t a fan of them, but when you remembered you two didn’t use protection in Neverland, he told you to not worry. In Neverland time is completely stopped, as well as your cycle, and that would explain why you didn’t have periods while being there. You were in such a blissful experience that you didn’t even remember about your period.

But in this world, you could get pregnant, and even if you want a kid of your own with Eddie, there was still so much to get used to for him. But still, it didn’t forbid him from touching every single night, wanting to drown himself in you, and you weren’t complaining. He was always up for trying new things, and you both had discovered many together.

You taught Eddie and Steve how to drive, but there wasn’t much for you to teach because as soon as they touched the steering wheel, they immediately got the hang of it, and Eddie even described it as easy as sailing a ship. You couldn’t believe a former pirate said a car feels like a ship. With the prosthetic, driving an automatic is very easy for Eddie. 

The kids love the pool, you bought a slide for it and a lot of floaters for them to swim in. You noticed how maternal you had gotten ever since getting the kids into your life, and it wasn’t something you thought of ever having. Now, you want more, for some reason. You always have to shake that thought out of your head because that would end badly.

Another thing you did, not very recommended in the summer, was getting a tattoo. You had tattooed your grandma’s drawing of Neverland. You knew there was a diary of hers, and she sometimes read the story from her own head, and sometimes from there and showed you the drawing. She explained she could see the island at the top of the clouds, while flying with Peter.

So you outlined it and tattooed it on your wrist. 

When Eddie saw it, he was immediately interested, knowing about tattoos but the tribe were the only people that knew how to do it. You decided to visit the shop once with him, and he got a hook tattoo on his ankle, to test the waters of the pain. After a week, you couldn’t find him anywhere for three hours, sending you into a panic, only for him to return with six more tattoos on his body, with a wide grin on his face.

“It's summer! One is already bad, you got seven!” You had yelled at him, but he just shrugged and grinned down at you.

“I’ll get even more in winter.” 

But summer was ending, as well as the boys started becoming nervous of going to school, which was a private one so they had to use uniforms for it. They complained of course, but you had promised them that the teacher they were having was going to be very patient and that you met the kids' parents of the class already and they all seemed nice and welcoming. 

A week before the start of classes, you decided it was time for a last pool party, and so, you invited Nancy, Jonathan and Robin over, where Robin mentioned she had a long distance friend visiting and she had asked if they could come over with their little sister, to which you agreed. 

So now, you were cutting the vegetables for the salads in your kitchen, as Jonathan helped Will start the fire outside for the BBQ. For some reason, Jonathan had taken particular liking to one of your kids, but that’s good, because Nancy had found herself teaching Mike how to play some chess, and Dustin was already attached to Eddie like a Piranha. 

One of your boys, though, was sitting alone on one of the lawn chairs, looking at nothing in particular, just the ripples of the water happening  on the pool. You put down your knife, ready to go talk to Lucas, but the doorbell rings, making your head snap that way.

“Don’t worry, I got it!” Steve yells as he rushes towards the door, opening it, to see Robin, a smile on his face as they hug tightly.

“Hi there Dingus.” She pulled away from the hug to point behind her back. “My friend is unloading something and he’s right here, okay?” 

“Yeah sure.” Steve turns his head to guide Robin towards the kitchen and garden where everyone is and she immediately bolts away. He hears a clear of throat and his head turns back around, only for his eyes to land on blue ones, knocking the breath out of his lungs in an instant.

“Hi, um… Hope we’re not intruding, it’s just, I’m with my sister and I couldn’t leave her alone.” The blonde man says, looking at Steve with the same hazed look in his eyes. Steve shook his head to come out of the trance he was in and smiled, putting his hand out for a shake.

“No issue at all! The boys will love her. I’m Steve by the way.” The other man smiles, his white teeth showing off as he presses his hand against Steve’s, electricity immediately coursing through their bodies.

“I’m Billy.”

“Are you going to keep flirting or…” A soft voice says from behind him, making Billy let go of Steve’s hand with a groan, a blush appearing on his cheeks as he makes way for the redheaded girl to come forward. “I’m Max.” 

“Oh hi–” Steve felt the presence of someone else next to him, and he turned his head to see Lucas, staring at the girl with a dreamy look in his eyes. 

“Hi… I’m Lucas.” Max’s lips tugged slightly up at the sight of the boy, her skateboard in hand. “What's that?” He pointed at it and she smiled widely, walking inside the house, grabbing onto his hand to guide him outside where everyone was.

“I’ll teach you!” Steve could hear her yell as he let Billy in. He closes the door only to see Billy looking all over the house with a confused frown on his face. 

“This is big… You all live here?” He asks and Steve stands next to him, nodding as he looks around as well.

“Yep. We are grateful to her, you know. We would have…” He suddenly heard some footsteps coming over and Steve turned his head to see Eddie reaching them, with a piece of bread in his hand, his other one reaching out to shake Billy’s.

“I’m Eddie.” He greets and Billy looks down at the prosthetic hand, shaking it carefully with him, and when Eddie lets go, the blonde man’s curiosity got the best of him.

“I’m Billy– Um… how did that happen?” He asks, pointing at the hand. Eddie looks down at it and then back at Billy.

“Crocodile bit it off.” He shrugs and walks towards the kitchen once again as Billy stands there completely stunned. Steve’s eyes were bulging out of his skull almost, and he was trying to come up with another excuse because that sounded way too unreal and he didn’t want Billy to think Eddie was messing with him.

“Fucking sick.” Billy says with a smile and he looks back down towards Steve. The brown haired man lets out a sigh of relief and then nods.

“Gruesome, but yeah, sick.” Billy just stands there looking at Steve, his mind completely drifting away and Steve could even sense that, as the blonde’s eyes were just gazing into his, and that was making Steve’s heart accelerate rapidly. “W-What’s wrong?”  That made Billy snap out but his face was still the same, still staring as if his eyes were not to be trusted.

“I-I don’t know, you just seem… like you came out of a fairytale or something.” Steve couldn’t help the big smile and blush that spread on his cheeks, while Billy realized what he had just said, embarrassment filling him from head to toe, stammering on his words to try to save it but Steve was just laughing, enjoying the man’s company and voice. 

You were sneaking glances through the kitchen door, a smile on your face as you bit your bottom lip. Everyone has someone in your family, your big family, and that fills you with joy. You felt an arm creep from behind you, pulling you close to a warm body. You giggle as his face immediately snuzzled in the crook of your neck, causing your skin to grow goosebumps from it. 

“Eddie–”

“Don’t spy on them. Let my second in command flirt in peace.” He says in your ear and you turn around to face him, smiling widely up at him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

“I’m just so happy… Everyday just feels like a dream.” You say to him, and he gives you a nod, a gentle smile spreading on his lips as he leans down to kiss your cheek, then the tip of your nose, expressing his love for you.

“I will never regret the day I thought you were Wendy and kidnapped you.”

“I should sue.” He fake gasps while shaking his head at you.

“Now, you’ve hurt me Angel.” Your eyes looked to your side, seeing everyone playing with each other through the window pane you had, and your eyes filled with tears at the sight of it all. Nothing could make it better. Nothing at all… Except.

You felt Eddie grip your side, giving it a soft press to catch your attention again. You looked at him and his eyes were nervous, full of doubt yet with determination. 

“Eds? What's wrong?”

“I know… The kids don’t call me dad… But–” He licked his lips while swallowing a big lump down his throat and your heart was almost out of your chest and you could hear its beating on your ears. He gives you a big grin as a tear already rolls down your cheek.

He grabs your hand and walks out of the kitchen to take you upstairs and into your grandmother’s room. He then opens the balcony’s door and steps out with you, the breeze already hitting you and the sun beaming down at your body.

“Close your eyes Angel.” He whispers in your ear as he lets go of your hand. Your breathing became heavy as you did as told, and you raised your head up, towards where the second star to the right is. You always wished on it, wished that it wouldn’t take your love away, that it wouldn’t take your children away, wished that everything was real and not a dream.

“Eddie–”

“Open them and turn around.” You did as told, turning to see Eddie on one knee, a box on his hand as his elbow rested on his knee. Your heart got caught in your throat as you looked at the diamond in the box, covering your mouth with both of your hands as tears started spilling out uncontrollably from your eyes.

“What…?”

“I want to be their dad. I want to be with you, forever, for as long as you’ll have me, or for as long as we live. You’re it for me Angel, you have been it for me from the moment you decided to fly towards me, towards the ship, instead of here.” He choked up on a sob and then took a deep breath to keep going. “I know it’s soon, but I can’t imagine my life with anyone else. In my eyes, into my future, you’re always there. You will always be there.” 

You dropped to your knees, as happiness flourished in your chest, smiling through your tears as you put your left hand up, putting it on display for him. You looked up at his big doe eyes, a tear slipping out of his left one as he looked down at you as if you were the only thing keeping him alive.

And you were.

“I’m ready to be Mrs. Hook.”

And when our journey is through, each time we say "Goodnight", we'll thank the little star that shines, the second from the right.

A/N: Remember you can still send requests for these two! I plan on making more little one shots for them, but this one is good so you can all know what happened after the return 🥰

Hope you enjoyed this magical little thing!

Song at the bottom is Second Star to the Right from the original 1953 Peter Pan soundtrack.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fanfiction #fanfiction #eddie munson x y/n #hooked on you #captain hook!eddie #hook!eddie #peter pan au #peter pan #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson stranger things #eddie x you #eddiemunson #stranger things eddie #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x female reader #steve harrington #robin buckley #pirate!eddie munson #pirate!eddie #billy hargrove #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers

[irrelevantwriter]

Tactus

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) x Touchstarved!Female Reader/You

Rating: SFW, Angst, Comfort

Warnings: Language, angst, comfort, family shit, mentions of sick/divorced parents, touch-starved reader 

Word Count: 2263

Summary: An emotional moment gets the best of you. Eddie comforts you and realizes you need more than encouraging words.

A/N: I made myself cry writing this so I hope you hoes appreciate it. I went with a reader who was having a bit of an emotional breakdown and who also happened to be going through it. Oh, and touch starved. Which is coincidentally what the title of this fic is in Latin. Enjoy and share with your friends! Feedback is that good shit.💗

Disclaimer: As always, reader inserts are true reader inserts. If you find any specifics in regards to reader’s appearance, kindly let me know and I will fix that.

Disclaimer: Characters are of age in my fics.

*Check out my other Eddie fics here

*Masterlist in bio.

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

Tears pooled in your eyes. A sob simmered just under the surface, but you did your best to hide it. You sniffled, taking a deep breath in. The action had little effect. Your lashes were still dotted with wetness, your mascara no doubt transferring to the skin under your eyes.

You shook your head, willing yourself to stop. Crying at work was the last thing you wanted to be doing. It was embarrassing, especially around a group of men who didn’t have the capacity to soothe a crying baby doll, much less an actual human.

You ignored the tightness in your chest and went about your evening routine of closing down the auto shop. You turned off the lights and locked the door, flipping the ancient sign in the window from OPEN to CLOSED. A few of the guys still worked in the garage, a bay left open to let the minimal summer breeze through.

You wiped away an errant tear as you made your way to the break room. You worked on autopilot, setting the coffee maker up for the morning, the men claiming to not know how the machine worked. They insisted you did it better. It was a ruse you were very much aware of, but you also didn’t mind. You did it anyway. It felt nice to be needed. Even if it was only for your subpar coffee skills.

The thought made a stream of moisture trail down your cheek, the movement startling you. Your hands shook as you bit your lip, on the cusp of a full blown crying fit. A  faint thud of boots and a melodic whistle sounded in your ears, signaling someone was approaching.

You knew that song. You knew that person.

You hurriedly turned away from the door, patting your face dry as Eddie Munson strolled in. He brought with him an aroma of motor oil and faded Old Spice, the cigarette he’d just smoked lingering on his clothes. You kept your head down, busying your hands with the coffee filters.

“Hey…didn’t know you were still here,” he offered, standing next to you at the sink.

You watched from the corner of your eye as he rinsed his coffee mug, the lettering across the front chipped and scratched. Once upon a time the piece of ceramic read Son of a Bitch with a caricature of the devil beneath it. It always made you laugh. Eddie was far from the devilish persona he liked to portray at times. He’d been the warmest and most welcoming of the bunch when you’d first started.

You cleared your throat, hoping the flood of emotions hadn’t made its way to your voice box yet, “Just finishing up.”

He nodded, placing the mug on the drying rack and making his way over to the fridge in the corner. He pulled out a can of cola, his name scrawled in black marker across the front. He always drank a soda at the end of the day. It was a habit you’d picked up on in your time as receptionist at the shop. All the guys had habits. Eddie’s habits were your favorite.

The pop and hiss of the can being opened reverberated in the otherwise empty room. He made his way back over to you, sipping loudly from the can.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“Because you’ve been counting the same stack of filters since I walked in.”

Your fingers stopped, pushing said filters away. You scoffed at his observation, still not meeting his eyes. “Just distracted.”

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked, grease covered forearm shifting closer.

You shook your head.

“Sweetheart,” he called softly. Too soft.

You hesitantly met his gaze, feeling silly for the outburst you’d nearly allowed yourself to have.

His eyes were warm and welcoming, his lips pulled into a tender smile, but when he noticed the redness in your own eyes and the drops clinging to your lash line, his brows furrowed.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” you said with a shake of your head, wiping the evidence away.

“Did something happen?”

He reached a hand out, but didn’t touch you. He hovered over your shoulder, wanting to but not crossing that line. You were coworkers. Friends even. But you’d never touched one another. Not with intention. And when he didn’t inch closer, you realized how badly you wanted it.

“Just some stuff with my parents. It’s kind of a shit show right now,” you offered, voice betraying your real emotions.

“Can I do anything?”

You smiled up at him, heart warming at the sight of such a selfless human. You hadn’t known they still existed.

More tears came.

“Woah, what happened?” Eddie asked, brown orbs going wide with panic as he set his can of soda to the side.

You’d frightened him. You could see the worry in his face; that he’d said something wrong. It was quite the opposite.

“M’fine,” you sniffled, willing the tears to stop. But they wouldn’t. Everything rushed back to the surface, making you feel vulnerable and way too exposed.

“Says the girl sobbing in front of me,” he deadpanned.

The comment made you giggle, a hiccup following.

His expression flipped at seeing a hint of a smile on your lips. “There she is.”

You were both quiet for a moment, the hum of the appliances a constant in the background. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, feeling Eddie’s gaze on you. Humiliation crept its way up your spine.

And then, a warm caress near your shoulder made you pause. It was slight and hardly noticeable, but you felt it nonetheless. Felt the heavy weight of his rings through your blouse as he rubbed soothing circles. Felt the hard calluses of his fingers rub against the fabric. Felt the warmth.

The unexpected contact had a duality you weren’t prepared for. Your senses came alive while your body succumbed to the comfort, relaxing in on itself. You swore you could feel every microscopic aspect of his touch. And yet it all blended together to create the most all consuming embrace.

A simple touch set you aflame.

“My dad is really sick. And my mom can’t deal with it. I’ve been helping them out. With finances and doctors appointments. But it’s not easy. Especially when my mom talks about divorcing my dad. It’s just…,” you stopped to catch your breath, feeling your lip begin to tremble. “A lot.”

Eddie didn’t say anything for a while. He’d pulled his hand away while you’d been speaking and you already missed it.

“Jesus, M’sorry sweetheart. That’s…shit,” he sighed, scratching at his stubbly chin.

You nodded at his words, laughing at his interpretation. “The shittiest,” you agreed.

You finally turned to face him, no longer hiding your tear-stricken face. You thought you saw something akin to sadness pass over his features before it was quickly wiped away.

“M’sorry,” you apologized with a self-deprecating laugh, accepting the balled up paper towel he’d torn off the roll for you.

“What’re you sorry for?”

“For crying at you. Unloading all my shit.”

“Hey,” he paused, making you meet his eyes at the seriousness in his tone. “Don’t apologize for that. You can always talk to me.”

You simply nodded, fearing words would fail you.

“I’ve never seen you cry before.”

“That’s not really unusual. I don’t have many reasons to cry most days. Despite my current predicament,” you joked, gesturing to your wet eyes and sniffly nose.

“You’ve seen me cry,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, when Brady brought that puppy he found near the creek that you wanted to adopt,” you explained with a laugh, thinking back on the memory.

“Because he wouldn’t let me,” Eddie added, pouting.

“Because you try to adopt every animal you come across.”

He shrugged, a wide smile on his lips.

“I’m not big on crying. Or emotions really,” you confessed, wringing the tattered paper towel in your hands. You avoided his gaze, but a gentle tip of your chin made his mahogany stare meet yours. He didn’t move his finger away from you. Instead, he trailed the digit up and over your cheek, cupping your face in his palm.

“This okay?” he whispered, watching you.

“Yes,” you croaked, trying hard not to let your eyes fall shut at the feel of his skin on yours.

“It’s been awhile, huh?”

The question lingered in the air, your silence a response.

“Since someone touched you like this. Like you matter.”

His words made your heart stutter, the burn behind your eyes now unbearable. Could he really see all of that just by looking at you? Could he sense it?

“I-I,” you struggled to respond, shame clouding your mind. The raw emotion of overexposure came back tenfold and you stepped away.

“Don’t. Don’t do that, sweetheart.”

“Do what?” you practically growled, hating that he was seeing you like this.

“Push me away.” He said the words like it pained him to say them.

“Don’t do that,” you threw back. “Don’t act like you care.”

“I do care.”

“Why?”

He stared at you for a long moment. So long that you became uncomfortable.

“What kind of question is that?” he asked with a shake of his head. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it.

He moved forward, closing the distance between you both. You fought against the urge to pull back, waiting for his next move.

He approached you as one would a wild horse. With ease and patience. He extended his hand back towards you, angling for your face. You didn’t flinch when skin met skin. Rather, you basked in it. You closed your eyes and burrowed into his heat.

“Just—just let me help you.”

You'd never heard him so desperate before.

The question was on your tongue, ready to roll off.

Why?

He could see it in your eyes.

“I like you.”

Why?

He shrugged, “Your guess is as good as mine.”

You laughed, the sound watery and broken, but there all the same.

A single tear slid down your cheek and into his palm. His thumb lightly traced the curve of your lips, still gently cradling your cheek. You succumbed to him, too weak to deny your body of such intimacy. Because he was right. It had been too long since someone had touched you with meaning. With care. With a fragility you deserved but weren’t often afforded. Too many times you’d been dropped and broken and shattered, put back together in a half-assed attempt at mending.

“Close your eyes,” he softly demanded, his sugary laced breath hitting you in the face.

You obeyed, spine straightening when you felt his free hand land on your other cheek. You waited, anxiety soaring through your veins like the blood that pumped through them.

“S’okay,” Eddie soothed. He was closer, you could feel it. You could practically hear his heartbeat. “I got you.”

His chapped lips lightly touched yours, giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted. When you didn’t, he surged forward, kissing you none too gently. Like he’d been waiting for the chance. The notion made you melt. Melt right into his hands.

You kissed him back, albeit with less fervor. It’d been so long. And both your body and mind were struggling to play catch up. But the minute his hands drifted down to your hips, you lost yourself. Finally feeling anchored in a sea of thunderous waves.

You only pulled back when air became a necessity, realizing you’d been clinging to his stained t-shirt. You became bashful suddenly, avoiding his ever observant gaze.

“M’sorry,” he mumbled, catching you off guard.

You looked at him in question, hoping he didn’t regret what had just taken place. “For what?”

“For not doing that sooner. For everything you're going through. For the pain you’re feeling.”

The words came out jumbled and entirely too fast, but you caught every syllable. Neither of you were surprised this time when a trickle of tears escaped your eyes.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Eddie.”

He nodded, pulling you close. It wasn’t until he’d wrapped his arms around you that you realized he was hugging you. A full body hug.

His arms held you tight, but not too tight. Just enough to make you feel safe. His chin was tucked near your forehead, allowing you to nuzzle into his chest. His scent wafted through your nostrils, soothing you like a fidgety toddler.

And it worked. Oh how it worked.

“Let me take you home, yeah?” he asked into your hair, his breath making the strands move against your scalp.

“Okay.”

“I’ll stop and get you some food. Anything you want.”

His chest vibrated under you, luring you in closer. The act was physically impossible. You were as close as two people could get. And yet, you wanted more. You were utterly addicted to his touch.

He pulled back too soon for your liking, but he made up for it by dragging his lips across your forehead. You closed your eyes at the sensation, lost in it.

“You’re so pretty.”

You blinked, seeing him staring at you in what could only be described as awe.

“I’m a mess,” you replied with a shake of your head, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“So,” he grabbed your hand, pulling it to his chest. “You can still be pretty and a mess.”

You laughed, unable to come up with a retort. “Thank you.”

And you meant it. For more than just his words. And he somehow understood.

“No problem, sweetheart. I got you.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #stranger things

[mrsjellymunson]

Hello! 👋

Hi, hello, I’m Kittie and I’m obsessed with Stranger Things, plus other weird and bizarre TV and films. Welcome to my Masterlist! (Yes, I’m finally calling it that 😆). I’m married to Eddie Munson and there’s nothing you can do to change my mind. I write for Eddie Munson (x fem! or gn!reader) and sometimes Steddie, and a single Joe Quinn RPF has made it in here somehow. I hope to write for other characters at some point, and already have ideas for Mr Clarke and some of the girls.

I’m new to fandom (and old, in Tumblr terms at least), so I might get things wrong while I find my feet so please be kind. I’m new to writing but am enjoying myself immensely. I’d love to be friends so please feel free to message or ‘ask’ 😊

🔞🔞 Important: I post and share mature and dark content; DO NOT interact with my blog if you’re under 18 🔞🔞 I block blank, ageless and inactive blogs so if you want to follow me please put something in your bio, including your age/age range.

If you’d like to be on my ‘everything taglist’, or for anything specific, just drop me a comment, ask or message 😊

Content key:

💗Fluff ❤️Mature themes ❤️‍🔥Smut 🖤Dark themes 🌟Most popular 👌Personal favourite

MASTERLIST 👇👇👇👇

EDDIE MUNSON:

SERIES:

KNOCK AT THE CABIN (Eddie Munson x fem!reader, post-S4) Prologue❤️🖤 Part One (coming soon) ❤️🖤 Part Two❤️🖤💗 Part Three❤️🖤💗❤️‍🔥

THE BIOLOGY TUTOR (Eddie Munson x fem!reader) Lesson 1: Female Anatomy ❤️❤️‍🔥🌟 Lesson 2: Male Anatomy 💗❤️‍🔥👌 Extra Credits 01: Communication Skills❤️❤️‍🔥 Extra Credits 02: French💗❤️ Lesson 3: Human Reproduction💗❤️‍🔥 Extra Credits 03: Latin 💗❤️‍🔥 Extra Credits 04: Social Studies❤️💗

Oneshots, 5+1’s, short fics, drabs (newest first):

That Was You? 💗 (Eddie Munson x fem! or gn!reader) 1.6k. A meet cute in a record store.

Take Care of Me 🖤❤️💗 (Eddie Munson x fem!reader) 7.4k. Eddie rescues you after a disastrous date REQUESTED

The Boy Is Mine, Kittie’s edition: an Eddie Munson community-building writing exercise 💗❤️ (Eddie Munson x fem!reader) 1.6k. A romantic night in at the trailer, using prop & dialogue prompts

Candyman, Candyman, Candyman 💗 (Eddie Munson x fem! or gn!reader) ~2.1k. A Valentine’s 5+1: Five times you get to give Eddie a kiss, and one time he kisses you back

S.A.N.T.A. BABY 💗❤️‍🔥👌 (Eddie Munson x fem!reader) ~10k. A festive 5+1: Five times you embarrass yourself in front of Eddie, and one time you don’t…

Hello, Stranger 💗❤️🖤 (Eddie Munson x gn!reader) 6.2k. A stranger buys weird stuff at odd times, and as the cashier at the local hardware store you’re not sure what to make of it…

Thinking About Dom!Eddie’s Thighs ❤️❤️‍🔥👌 (Eddie Munson x gn!reader)

Something To Crow About 💗❤️👌 (Eddie Munson x gn!reader) Eddie dresses as Eric Draven.

Leaving Hawkins? Come Again Soon! ❤️❤️‍🔥 (Eddie Munson x Patrick Verona x fem!reader). Eddie and Patrick make your last night in Hawkins a memorable one (coming soon)

JOSEPH QUINN:

Happy Halloween, Love ❤️❤️‍🔥🖤 (Joseph Quinn x fem!reader, RPF) wc: ~4.4k. Joe raids the costume department at work and conspires to make this Halloween your most memorable yet

STEDDIE:

Ficlets/minifics written for a one word prompt and to a word count (newest first):

Turning P!nk💗

Fool Me💗❤️

‘It’s My Birthday!’💗❤️

Pin Me❤️

The Edge of Insanity❤️❤️‍🔥

Fill Me (dom!Steve)❤️‍🔥

Fill Me (dom!Eddie)❤️‍🔥

Filler ❤️🌟👌

Play Me💗

What’s His Name Again?💗

Find Me ❤️🖤

Teach Me❤️❤️‍🔥👌

Steve’s Keychain💗

Mud Cakes & Pancakes💗

Special Treatment v2❤️

Special Treatment v1❤️

Fic recs (coming soon)

I’m still fairly new, but I already understand that comments and reblogs are the lifeblood of this site. Please support each other and share the creativity! 😘

#catt writes #kittie writes #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington #eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #steddie smut #stranger things fanfic #Eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie munson x gn!reader #joseph quinn #Joseph quinn x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #steddie fluff #eddie x you #Eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic writers

[ourautumn86]

A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL

rockstar! eddie x demon! fem reader

synopsis;;

Eddie Munson had a dream, for his band Corrored Coffin to reach the stars. And Eddie was capable of anything if that meant they’ll make it. Anything. Even make a pact with the devil.

cw;;

18+content! satanic ritual, blood, wounds (made with a knife), sub! and virgin! eddie, dom!fem! reader, possessiveness, oral sex (m receiving), piv sex, unprotected sex (GUYS WRAP THE DONG UP!), hair pulling, own-ship kink! (kinda), multiple orgasms (m), overstimulation, CREAM PIES!!!, nudity (obvs), blood kink! (kinda), drugs, teasing, cum swallowing, face fucking… MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I’LL HUNT YOU DOWN!

word count;;

5,5k!

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own. (!!!!!)

‘ want me to fuck the virgin out of you? ’

“Okay… Done.” he sighed, staring at the summoning circle he had drawn on the floor of his living room. “Thank god this shit comes with instructions.” he mumbled, cracking his back since he had been crouching down for the last 20 minutes scribbling with the worn white chalk in between his fingers. He was pleased, the lighted candles surrounding the summoning circle made it even better.

He then took the old grimoire, the pages almost falling apart on his fingers as he passed the pages.

It was hilarious, actually. Being wrongly believed to be a satanist his whole life just to find himself making a deal with the devil years later. But who cares? If they wanted a satanist, they’d get a satanist. And a really rich and famous one.

“Fuck. I should have really paid attention to latin classes.” he whispered as he played cart wheel with the book, trying to see the right side to read it. Was this even latin? He couldn’t really know.

After finding out the right side, he laid the grimoire on the nearest table, where he could read, before taking the knife he had brought from the van.

“Invoco te, diabole, tenebras, peccatum pro i manu tua, sanguine tuo et viribus tuis…” he started mumbling, trying his best to pronounce the spell as best as he could. “peccatum tuum, tenebrae tuae, pars animae tuae opus est…” the sudden turn off of the lights above his head startled him. That and the unimportant and completely normal growth of the flames of the candles, reaching the height his knees. “Holy shit!” his heart was beating harshly against his ribs.

Breathe.

He reminded himself. He could do this. He had to do this.

“Okay… Now for the finale.” he mumbled, pressing the knife to his palms and closing it over the weapon, with a quick movement slicing his flesh, crimson pooling at his feet on little droplets. “Age, precor, oro, sequere vocem, ingrediar ad terras, nam te sanguine dicam!” he finished as he let his blood fall into the protection circle, staining the chalk.

Due to a quick flash of the candles —which died and came back to life in a blink—, he stumbled backwards, falling onto the floor and grunting when he had to put all his weight on his good hand to not hurt his left more.

His eyes adapted to the darkness and now dimmed lights —since the intensity of flames had blinded him—, skin growing in goosebumps when he felt someone or something lurking in the dark.

His eyes widened when he met a pair of crimson ones that stared at him in fun.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty one?” he gulped at what stood before him.

A devil. With the most beautiful and haunting face and black leather intimidating wings at your back.

Sin in flesh.

“Jesus Christ!” he breathed out as his cheeks turned red, eyes darting somewhere else as his wounded hand stood in between his sight and your body.

You were completely and absolutely naked. Soft skin on dispose for him to see.

“Uhm… I…” he stuttered, trying to find the words.

This wasn’t what he was expecting at all… He expected blood, darkness, someone covered too…

Not this. Not you.

“Aw, no need to be shy now…” a choked scream left his lips when, after a slight wave of your hand, an invisible force tugged from him up and close to the protection circle. He shivered when your hand took his in a soft and icing grip. “It was you who offered yourself to me after all…”

This shouldn’t be happening. The protection circle was supposed to safely maintain the summoned demon inside, unable to scape nor ‘cause any type of harm to the caller. You shouldn’t have been able to pull him towards you, nor take his hand by reaching outside it.

So…

“Who are you?” he inquired, shock and fear on his voice as he stared into your eyes.

“I’ve been a lot of things…” you answered, gently examining the deep and dripping cut in his palm on your own. His eyes hardly tried to not wonder from your face, although something deep inside of him whispered in his ear, tempted him to stare at your naked body. “From the favorite one: An angel… To the fallen one: A devil.” you muttered.

“What’s… What’s your name?” his breathing was stuck in his lungs, voice strained.

You smiled, staring up at him. You and he knew that, by knowing a demon’s name, you’d have power over them, be able to control it somehow.

Although that didn’t matter.

“Satan. Although I go by a lot of names now. y/n is one of my favorites.”

His breath hitched, his whole body tensing under you touch, as if it hurt.

Satan? He had been able to summon the ruler of hell? Wasn’t that almost impossible? He was expecting a smaller demon, one with which he could make a deal. Not the sin herself.

You could feel him try and pull away, but you didn’t let him, your fingers lacing around his palm, being careful with the cut.

“You scared?” you whispered, taking a step outside the circle, your free hand running up though his chest and resting on his shoulder. You could feel his quickened heartbeat.

But even though he felt every single bone inside his body shake, from his lips fell a quick:

“No.”

That only made your smirk grow. “Well, aren’t you stupid…” you cooed, and he shivered. “All the cute ones are always stupid.” you muttered.

He gulped when your sharp nails trailed up his neck, taking your time over his pulse point.

“What is it that you want, hm?” your voice was pure silk for his ears, like the sweetest nectar, trying to lure him in. “There must be something you must want to be messing with the devil.” you stepped closer. “What is it? Power? Love?” you looked into his eyes and he swore you could see his soul. You probably could. “Fame…” you chuckled. “Of course a pretty boy like you would want fame…” your thumb made its way to his bottom lip, which you slightly tugged. “Drive all the girls crazy.” he trembled when you pushed your naked chest against his. He could feel your perked nipples pushing against through his tee shirt. “Isn’t that right?” you mumbled against his lips. “I can give it to you. I can give you anything you want.” his eyes were focused on your lips.

He was no fool though, and you could see it in his eyes when he asked. “What do you want in return?” As well as you could see that he would give anything.

“I want you.” you simply said, and although there was no change in your voice, no feeling of any kind, he shivered under your touch. “So… What do you say?” the hand that took his hurt one, raised it to your lips. He only could watch as your tongue darted out, a hiss leaving his own lips when you licked his cut, cleaning it of all blood. “You wanna play with me?”

And he couldn’t find himself to say no.

“I like what you’ve done with the room.” you nod as you enter the bedroom, taking in every single detail. Some Metallica and Dio posters, different guitars in corners and walls, the book collection of The Lord of the Rings, a full pile of tapes next to his walkman, a stash of weed… You smiled, picking a little bag in between your fingers. “You seem to know how to have fun.” you smirked when he quickly took it from you, pushing it inside his metallic lunch box and closing it.

“Could you… Could you maybe put on some clothes, please?” he said, watching you wander around his room, playing with trinkets here and there. You turned at his voice, eyebrows rose playfully.

“Why? Do I make you nervous, Eddie?” he choked when you were back in front of him, painfully close. “Or maybe…, is something else?” he quickly captured your wrist when your hand trailed down his abdomen to the waistband of his pants. His eyes were a mix of warning and that glint of fear that you so well knew by now. Although there was something more…

You stepped away, hands rising in a ‘peace’ offering, a smirk plastered on your lips.

“Alright…” you elongated the ‘i’, as if you were bored. “I’ll be good.” you said, but by the look in his face, you knew he didn’t exactly believe you. “Now. Are you gonna give me some of your human clothes or do you want to watch some more?” you teased him, one of your hands cupping your right breast. He didn’t even look, quickly turning away as you giggled at his back, getting back to you with a pair of his boxers, one of his tee shirts and a pair of his sweats.

He then noticed: your wings.

“Oh, right.” you muttered, with a snap of your fingers making them disappear. “Is that better?” you questioned him, taking the clothes from his hands as he nodded and putting them on. “Huh.” you muttered, picking at the clothes. “Feels nice. Strange… But nice.”

“What. Have you never worn clothes?” he inquired.

And you only stood silent. His cheeks flushing when you smirked.

You never needed them…

“You’re the first one ever to ask me to cover up.” human or not human. And from the place when you came, no one really cared about clothes.

He coughed, clearing his throat.

“Okay, so… How does this work? I promise my soul to you and you instantly make me famous?” he changed subjects, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes fixated on the muscle, on the ink on his skin.

“Sure. You can do that.” you shrugged, taking seat on his bed, his shirt slightly rolling up to show your stomach. His eyes quickly darted elsewhere. “Though all that ‘I sold my soul to the devil’ is mostly made up stories by the church. Whatever I ask for, depends on the person that summons me.”

“So… What is it that you want from me?” his eyebrows quirked, a strand of hair falling to frame his face.

“I already told you. I want you.” suddenly, the place where he had cut himself —the same cut that had instantly closed after your tongue had made contact with it— burned.

With a quick movement of your hand, you pulled him closer to you and down by your side, hovering over him as one of your hands rested on his stomach. He jumped at your touch.

“I want you to be mine.” you smiled, and he shivered. “Did you think I wouldn’t know?” you pushed your chest against his as your hand trailed up and below his shirt, making him hiss when your fingertips caressed down his hips, at his happy trail. “The way you keep avoiding to touch me, to look at me?” you smirked, your lips against his ear. He groaned, unable to push you away, his whole body buzzing and burning up under your touch. You could smell the lust in him. “You though I wouldn’t notice that you’re a virgin?” a moan left his lips when your hand pushed down his pants, touching his growing cock from over the clothes. His fingers curled around your wrist but didn’t make a move to pull you away, what only made your smirk grow.

“S—Shit…” he gasped, his head tilting backwards at your touch.

“I don’t think you really know how valuable your virginity is for a demon, do you?” his dick was now fully erect below your palm. “We feed on it. Wrath, pride, jealousy, lust…” you whisper. “I want it. I want you.” his hips thrusted upwards in your hand, his mouth falling open. He was begging for more. You could feel it. “What do you think, pretty boy?” you left open mouth kissed down his neck, sucking and bruising the soft and tender flesh. “Do we have a deal?”

His breath hitched when you thumb pressed against his leaking head. “Yes, yes…” he nodded as he swallowed more moans by biting his bottom lip, unable to talk due to the amount of pleasure his body was under. Your touch was wicked. Making his bones ache for more.

And if he only had his eyes opened, he would have seen the devilish smile on your face.

“Good.” he whined when your hand left his pants, his own tugging from your wrist for more. “Aw, don’t worry baby. I’ll take care of you once we seal the deal. Now, come here.” you tugged from his shirt, smashing your lips to his in a wet kiss. His mouth fell open in a moan, giving you the opportunity to slid your tongue inside his mouth and deepen the kiss. He hissed when he felt burning skin underneath the hand that you rested on his chest, pulling away so his eyes would meet with a new branded mark just below where his heart should be. It was strange, full of lines. Like a tattoo.

Your thumb brushed the rests of spit off his bottom lip.

“Now you are mine.”

“Eddie! Eddie Munson! Please look here!”

“No, please here!”

“Please, tell us how does it feel to be the leader of one of the rising most famous bands in the whole world?!”

“Eddie!!!”

“Oh my god, he is so hot!”

He couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe how in a matter of days after the pact, miraculously, a really important talent seeker had stumbled across one of their gigs at the Hideout and later on offered him and his band mates the golden ticket to fame. They had worked hard to release their first song, which quickly became a worldwide hit and catapulted them to the peak. They had been showered with a lot of support from the new fans and offered a contract for years in the best record label in the USA.

And there they were a couple of months later.

He was living the life. And even better, he was living it with his best friends: Gareth and Jeff. They could not be happier, seeing themselves finally achieving their childhood dream.

“Thank you!” he screamed over the noise to a couple of fans that had gifted him roses and love letters. They were crying for his attention, what only made his heart jump. He was so grateful.

“Eddie, please a couple of words!” one of the interviewers stopped him, the flash blinding his eyes a little bit.

He smiled at the camera.

“The thing is that I have no words!” he laughed, and the interviewer melted beside him. He was a real heartthrob. “Thank you so much to everyone that came tonight to see us! We love you, New York!” his smiled couldn’t get bigger, his cheeks hurting and eyes shining.

“Eddie! Come on, we need to go!” Gareth called out for him from the limousine, waving his hand. The security guard behind him tapped him slightly in the shoulder.

“I’m sorry I have to go now. But really, thank you so much!” he waved at the camera, quickly running later on into their car to get on the move to their hotel.

“Holy shit!” Jeff screamed when they were alone inside, and they all laughed.

“It was crazy out there.” Gareth smiled, a bear plush in between his arms. Probably from the fans.

“We sold out for the next concert too!” Jeff pointed out and they shared a hand five.

They were like a couple of kids on Christmas morning.

Eddie relaxed on his seat, a bright smile on his lips as he watched them enthusiastically talk about how good tonight’s concert had been and how many people had come.

His whole body was fuzzing in adrenaline. Seeing their talent finally be loved and their hard work rewarded was the best feeling in the world.

But nothing would compare to the screams of the public as he screamed lyrics to the top of his lungs and burned his fingertips with the strings of his guitar on top of the scenery. It was like a fever dream.

“Night man.” Jeff shook his hand once they had safely returned to their hotel floor. Their rooms were separated though, each one further apart since the others had been already booked or were under maintenance. It didn’t really matter, they’d only be there for a night, and with security on their floor, nothing could go wrong.

“Nigh guys.” Eddie smiled after giving Gareth a couple of back taps, and unlocking their door. “See you tomorrow at seven.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me that, man. I’m exhausted.” the drummer groaned, exaggeratedly playing faint.

“Come on, drama king. Time to go to bed.” Jeff said, tugging from him, nodding towards Eddie one more time before every and each of them would enter their rooms.

He sighed as he closed the door behind him, turning on the lights and walking towards the desk to empty his pockets and get rid of his jacket, carefully leaving a side the gifts from his fans.

“Hard day today?” he jumped when your voice came from his back, startling him and making him turn around to face you.

“Fuck. You almost killed me- woah!” he screamed, his eyes quickly darting away when they came across your body on top of his bed.

You were on your back and almost naked, only a set of lingerie keeping yourself from being fully exposed before him. He recognized it. You had probably found the clothes that he had bought for you and which he always carried around in his back for your return, he thought.

You smirked at his reaction, playing with your hair.

He cleared his throat. “Mmh, yeah. Hard day. Very hard day.” he mumbled, trying not to stare too closely at your exposed skin, nor how hot you looked covered on lingerie, or how your tits bounced when you sat and got up. He gulped when you walked towards him, only to drift away and get a hold on the roses.

“Cute.” you murmured, but still taking one of them from the bunch and starting to tip its petals apart.

“Weren’t you… Weren’t you supposed to be taking care of some things in hell?” he inquired. After you both had sealed the deal, you had disappeared, telling him that you’d be back soon. Although ‘soon’ seemed to be almost five months…

“Aw… Did you miss me?” you cooed, leaving the flower fall at your feet and walking towards him, your thumb and pointer finger taking his chin for him to face you since his eyes didn’t seem to leave his feet. “Still not looking at me? Even when I’m wearing what you bought for me? How mean…” you playfully pouted and that’s when you caught his attention. You melted a little bit when his brown puppy eyes found yours. There he was… You surrounded his neck with your arms, looking at him. “You look good. Fame suits you, saw your interview on the news. Looking all cute and pretty for your fans, hm?” he gulped. “I suppose our deal has been working well enough?”

He nodded. “Yeah…” he breathed out. You being so close to him making his head feel all fuzzy, your voice as sweet as caramel to his ears. “It’s been amazing.” he almost groaned when your fingers dipped in his curls, softly scratching and pulling just the slightest.

“And I hope you’ve not forgotten who is it that you belong to, hm? Wouldn’t like any of those petty humans touching my boy…” he shivered in your arms when you pressed your chest against his, one of your hands trailing down to push inside his tee shirt and press your palm just below the seam of his jeans, taunting, teasing…

“N—No…” he stuttered, a burning feeling spreading though his lower stomach as your lips trailed down the side of his neck. There was something about them that slowly but surely made of him a mad man.

“Good…” you hummed, leaning in closer ‘till there were only mere inches in between the two of you. “ ‘Cause I came for my payment.” you mumbled against his lips before crashing against them. He froze for a couple of seconds before melting into the kiss, his hands griping your hips for support. He groaned when you bit down on his bottom lip, making him open his mouth and pushing your tongue inside.

Your tongues swirled around each other, and you sucked on his as you pushed him backwards and onto the bed. You looked at him for a minute, he looked so beautiful. With his cheeks flushed and lips swollen and bitten… Gasping for air with half-lided eyes. You knew it was taking effect.

His eyes widened when you got rid of your bra, your breasts fully exposed for him to see. He moaned, breath hitching when you sat down on his lap, starting to grind yourself on him as you went back to kissing him.

He felt like burning up, your touch, your lips, your hips, your tits…Everything was driving him insane. He whined when you pulled away. He was feeling dizzy, drunk, high on you. Needy, and so horny his dick was now fully leaking against his thigh. He swore he would come if you rocked against him one more time.

“y/n…” he muttered, heavy breathing fanning against your face. You smirked.

“What is it, baby? Feeling good?” he shakily nodded, giving no resistance when you pulled from his shirt up his head. “I bet you are…” a whine left his lips when you left wet open mouth kisses down his neck, leaving marks as you lowered yourself down his chest, your tongue licking over his mark.

“Fuck.” he breathed out when you got on your knees for him, tits exposed and hands getting the flyer of his black jeans open, pulling them down just enough to free his leaking and twitching dick. It was so big that you choked, with beautiful blue veins on the sides of its perfect girth and a pink head that was beaded in precum.

Your mouth watered at the sight, your tongue sliding from the base to the tip as his hips jerked and one of his hands unconsciously laced on your hair. He whimpered when you took him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you cleaned the head from the salty beads.

It was not his first blow job. But it was surely the best one he had ever had. The way your throat received him when you fully took him in your mouth had his head reeling. The warmth, the wetness…

“Oh, shit.” his head fell backwards when you started to bob your head up and down, using your tongue on the sides and licking the underside of the tip when you got to the top. You smirked when breathy whimpers started to leave his lips. He couldn’t understand. Why did he felt on fire. Had you done something to him? Had you cursed him? Why was it that he didn’t seem able to control himself when he was around you? Maybe it was simply you. With your perfect body and wicked face. Maybe it was because you were a demon and he only a mere human. But he swore that he was in heaven with your lips around his cock, with your tits bouncing with every bob, with your pretty eyes looking up at him. “What have you done to me?” he breathed out, moaning as his hips started to thrust upwards.

You knew how he was feeling. It was one of the effects of your bond, of your spit and your touch. Humans were not supposed to meddle about with devils, for they’d become obsessed, addicted.

“That’s right baby, moan for me. Let those fans waiting downstairs for you hear you. Let them hear who you belong to.” you teased him as you continued to pump his dick with your slicked hand before going back to taking him down your throat.

“Fuck!” he moaned, loud enough for those next to his room to hear, probably the whole floor. “Fuck, y/n.” he whimpered, his cock throbbing and twitching when one of your hands cupped his balls, rolling them and slightly griping them.

He was gonna cum, fuck, he was gonna cum so fucking hard he would probably die.

You could feel it, feel it in the way his hands gripped your head and his hips started to fuck upwards, fucking your throat. You let him, taking everything he would give you, using your tongue to drive him insane, your spit dribbling down his shaft and pooling at the base, dripping down his balls.

“Oh shit.” he muttered when your nails dug on his right thigh, leaving marks. That pushed him so hard to the edge that he started to mumble incoherent words. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” he moaned, his eyes shut tight, hips thrusting harder and deeper, desperate. “I’m cumming, I’m-“ and then your mouth was being filled with his hot and sticky heavy cum, making you hum. He rutted his hips just the slightest, riding his high, which left him trembling in his spot and seeing white. His hands let go of your head softly, your tongue lazily cleaning him up and making sure you swallowed everything up, him groaning at the sight, his thumb dragging along your bottom lip, all red and swollen.

“Want a taste, baby?” he nodded, grunting in your mouth when you got up and straddled his lap, your tongue pushing in between his lips and inside to let him taste himself on your mouth. His hands gripped your hips when you started to grind yourself down on his still hard cock. “Mmh, so greedy.” you smirked, hearing him whine when you pulled away. “You’re still so hard for me.” you sighed, your panties soaked at this point, the head of his cock bumping against your swollen clothed clit.

“y/n, fuck, please…” he begged, his hips unconsciously bucking upwards against your warm core. He was already starting to leak.

“What’s the matter, pretty boy? Use your words for me, baby.” you encouraged when his voice came out as a mumble when you ground yourself harder against his cock, his tip pressing just were you needed, drawing a breathy moan out of you.

“Fuck me, oh, fuck me. Please…” you smirked, your eyes shining in a bloody red when he moaned against your mouth.

You slightly rose yourself to pull your panties to the side, letting your sticky and drenched folds show for his hungry and fucked out eyes. “You want this? Want my pussy baby? Want me to fuck the virgin out of you?” He whimpered, his calloused and ringed fingers gripping harshly at your hips as his dick twitched at your dirty words. “Yeah?” your tongue wetted his bottom lip, making him shake and his breath hitch. “Are you gonna let me use this pretty cock of yours, hm?” you whispered, one of your hands taking his incredibly hard dick to slowly stroke it, playing with the tip and making his hips buckle up once again, what made your smirk only grow more. “Gonna let me use you, Eddie?” he nodded in a haze, muttering pleads. He could not think of something he’d love more than feeling you in that moment. Your wetness, your warmth…

“Please…” his breath got stuck in his lungs when the tip met your lips, sliding though them in a moan, his open mouth inviting your tongue in a wet and messy kiss that had his head reeling.

And then, he was inside. And he felt like dying.

“Oh shit. Fuckfuckfuck…” he muttered as every inch went in, filling you up, stretching you out. Your lips latched to his neck, biting harshly when his head tilted backwards in a groan.

If this was not heaven, he might as well love being in hell.

When you were fully seated, ass against his balls, you let him breath. You could feel it, the way he was trying so hard not to cum, his dick twitching like crazy in between your warm and tight walls.

“Are you gonna come for me baby? Gonna fill me up?” you teased him, rocking yourself on his lap and making him hiss.

“y/n, stop please, i’m gonna-, fuck, i’m gonna cum if you don’t let me-“ you didn’t exactly care.

You started moving although his soft and breathy voice filled the room, once begging for just a couple of seconds —since he felt mortified to be lasting so little even though he was a goddamn virgin— but now just moaning and whimpering without control with every jump you made on his long and leaking cock.

“Shit, fuck, y/n, please, i’m gonna…” he couldn’t stop it, it all being too much. The feeling of your tight cunt engulfing and swallowing him whole, sucking him in and not letting go, your slick pooling on his balls and dripping to the covers, the wet sounds of skin against skin and the squelching of your juices…

“That’s it, baby. Cum inside me, let me have it.” you muttered, rolling your hips in a way that made him see stars as you gripped your hair with one hand and scratched his chest with the other, moaning when he hit that deep and spongy spot inside you that always made you cum.

“I’m cumming, shit, i’m-“ he couldn’t even finish, since he was already spilling his hot and sticky cum inside of you, painting you in white, filling you to the brim. Both of you moaned in pleasure.

“Fuck Eddie, yes baby, more.” you babbled out, your whole body buzzing with energy and libido striking up due to the sexual energy he was feeding you with. Your walls tightened around him, milking every last drop out of him as he became a whimpering mess behind you.

“Shit!” he yelled-moaned when you pushed his back against the mattress and started to ride him, this time harder, faster. “Oh fuck, y/n…” he was so sensitive due to his recent orgasm. The overstimulation making him throw his head back in pure ecstasy. It hurt, but it hurt so good that in just a mere seconds he was already fully hard again inside you and ready to bust. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck…”

Your tits bounced with every new jump, the cum inside of you reaching deeper and deeper inside your womb with every thrust. He was so deep you could feel him in your cervix.

You moaned out his name as you felt your own orgasm building up at great speed, your nails digging in his chest deep enough to leave marks. Looking straight into his brown teary eyes, your pussy throbbed around him, making him whimper your name and his dick twitch when you leaded one of his hands to your chest —his fingers tugging on your nipples— and the other to your clit. You started to ride his fingers, making your walls tighten even more around him. He was loosing himself in you.

“Mine.” you whispered against his lips when you leaned down. “You’re all mine, isn’t that right, baby?” he moaned when you bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw out blood, your tongue swirling around the cut as he nodded, mind fuzzy with desire and the intense need to fuck his cum into you once again. “Say it for me, hm? Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, fuck, I’m yours…” he muttered in between babbles, his dick twitching, his head nudging your g spot. Those words were enough to pull you closer. With a new thrust, he was stuttering. “y/n, hm, I’m gonna…”

“Cum for me, Eddie. Please, fill me up baby, I need it. I need your cum.” you pleaded, and he has quick enough to give it to you in between curses.

You cried out at the feeling, cumming in between moans with the sight of his curly hair sticking to his forehead due to his sweat, his glazed over doe eyes totally fucked out and bloody bitten lips falling open to call your name.

He let out a ‘fuck’ as you continued to rub your clit against his fingertips to ride out your orgasm, sparks and stars shining underneath your eyelids.

You felt so full, your stomach showing just the littlest bump due to his cock and cum, which now was spilling out of you and soaking his base.

He then used his trembling arms to sit up and his hands to bring you in a searing kiss that had you moaning in his mouth.

You sighed as his lips trailed down your neck and onto your chest, kissing and feeling up your breasts to make your high last longer. One of your hands tugged on his hair when you felt him suck on your skin, hard enough to bruise it all up.

And the biggest smirk curved your swollen rosy lips when his hoarse voice filled the silent in the room. “You are mine.” his breath fanning over a hickey that he had left over your heart.

a/n;; i knowwww, i’ve been absolutely MIA, but my life is like a blurred mess rn and a lot of good stuff is happening so i’m always distracted. sorry<3! anyways, i hoped y’all enjoyed this little project and i hope to see all of you soon enough! <3 love you!

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #rockstar #rock star eddie munson #demon #eddie munson x y/n #eddie stranger things #e.m #st4 #stranger things 2 #stranger things 1 #stranger things 3

[athena-writes-i-guess]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Prompt: Distracting kisses while doing homework

Warnings: homework stress I guess?

Your head was pounding as you attempted to concentrate on the page you were on as you tried desperately to write your Latin essay. It was worth 30% of your grade and you needed to do well. Too bad foreign languages were so hard for you to grasp. This was your fourth year taking it and you still struggled to understand.

You had been working for hours, hunched over your desk. Eddie was growing concerned with how long you’d been working without a break. He was watching whatever he could find on the TV, trying to be here for you in any way he could while you worked. But he could almost feel the stress radiating off of your body as you wrote furiously. Occasionally erasing what looked like full paragraphs of your essay and starting over.

His attention snapped fully on you when he heard you let out a small sniff, looking at you he saw you lightly wipe one of your cheeks. You were crying. “Baby, are you okay?” Eddie asked, concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Eds. Just go back to the movie.” You said quietly, he could hear the wobble in your voice and his heart clenched at the sound. He moved off of your bed and over to you, he rested his hands on your upper arms as he leaned over to leave kisses on the side of your face.

“You need a break, sweetheart.” He said, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. “Come over to the bed with me and we can watch something for an hour and then you can go back to it okay?”

“I can’t Eddie. I can’t get this essay right and if I don’t I’ll fail.” You said, you sniffed lightly again as you turned your face away from Eddie to hide the tear that was escaping.

“Even more reason you need a distraction for a little while.” He replied, starting to leave feather light kisses along the skin of your shoulder in between his words. “Give that wonderful brain of yours a rest for a little while, let me help you de-stress a little, and I bet you’ll be all ready to destroy this essay, babe.”

“I can’t.” You said weakly, the dam that was holding your emotions back was crumbling.

“Yes. You. Can.” Eddie said confidently, punctuating each word with a kiss to the side on your face. He removed one of his hands from your arm and gently cradled your chin to move your face to look at him. He took in your expression; tears brimming your eyes, making them sparkle, the slight quiver in your lip. “You’re taking a break, I’m not taking no as an answer.” He started peppering soft kisses to the apples of your cheeks, then covering as much skin on your face as he could. Savoring in the slight, wet, giggle you let out at his actions. “Let me be a good distraction for a little while.” He practically pleaded.

“Okay, baby.” You finally agreed, your panic finally broken under his affection. He helped you up from your chair, noticing the slight flinch you made as your stiff muscles stretched after hours of being in the wooden chair. Eddie cradled you in his arms once you were both settled on the bed. “Thank you for looking out for me Eddie.” You said softly.

“No need to thank me, doll. I love you.” His lips found yours as he kissed you silly and you slowly felt the stress lessen.

Masterlist

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie x y/n #stranger things fanfiction #eddie #eddie fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie stranger things #eddie x f!reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie fanfic #eddie x gn!reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie drabble #eddie imagine #eddie munson imagine

[vintagehellfire]

All For Show | E.M

Musician!Eddie x Showgirl!reader

summary: 1955 New York City, where dreams come true. You get to dance and perform for crowds every night, bringing in good money for yourself and for daddy’s jazz club. The regulars love you, the women envy you, and the musicians are strictly banned from flirting with you (and the other dancers of course). This wasn’t a problem until your father up and coming musician Eddie Munson to perform at his jazz club. Eddie was the first man to catch your eye, and you the first performer to be worth his time, and your fathers wrath.

warnings: implied female reader, mysoginy, eventual smut, swearing, no use of y/n, nudity, drugs, smoking, slow-burn, alcohol, anger issues, controlling father, derogatory names against reader, talks of abusive childhood, 18+ only. mdni

Chapter IV: I’m Kind of Nervous but it Sure Is Fun | 12.2k words

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The question lingered in the open air temporarily, not so much an inquiry of whether you actually knew of Reuben’s but much more a warm invitation to the establishment in itself. There was a teasing smirk that adorned Eddie’s features, a mischief, and a certain glint in his eyes that spelled out trouble. Trouble that you actually wanted to get in, trouble that you wanted to dive headfirst into without thinking of the consequences. His intonation gave him away and yet you couldn’t help but allow your heart to flutter at his suggestion.

That’s how you and Eddie make your way over to Reuben’s — it was a brisk eleven minute walk from Latin Quarter to Reuben’s. The diner sat on 6 E 58th and seemed to be bustling with life at this strange hour. Most people were stumbling over their own feet trying to find the front door, unsteady hands trying to grab at the door handle and stabilize themselves enough to let themselves in for a post party snack. It was tradition for beatniks and dollies* to frequent the diner in the wee hours of the morning. The neon sign in front adorning the large lettering flirted with you, inviting you in for a bite, and if that wasn’t enough, the doorman beckoned you and Eddie forward with a wave of his gloved hand and a polite smile. Once you stepped in, the hustle and bustle faded out and was replaced by a black and gold world of a sort of art nouveau style from the tail end of the mid thirties. It was charming and warm, nothing to scoff at, and best of all was that if you weren’t coming from a night of jive they still had what it took to meet your needs.

Both you and Eddie settled into a booth, paying attention to each other, tending to who was to go forth and choosing their seat first. If Eddie had been any braver he would have wrapped his arm around your waist and led you to his favourite seat in the house but as reality proved it, the curly haired musician was too chickenshit to initiate such an intimate gesture - it would overstep an imaginary line that you’ve both already crossed. And so with grace, you slid into the seat opposite of the man, back towards the front door, and consequently the general public. You cared not for the idle chatter of the other patrons, nor for the rowdiness of those who had overindulged, no, you had eyes and ears for nobody but Eddie.

Soon after having sat down, a waitress came by with the menus and a jug of water, filling up your glasses before telling you that she’d be back in a moment to take your orders. You and Eddie clearly needed a moment to make your decisions - with a menu so extensive it wasn't easy but the longer your eyes trailed over the yellowed paper, the more appeal the simpler things had. Especially after a night of drinking. As you finished looking over the menu, your eyes flicked over the musician’s features; his hair frizzy from the sweat and his cheeks flushed from the brisk night air. You were sure your cheeks were just as frozen over and yet you didn’t seem to mind, not when you had just been dancing with the most handsome man you had the pleasure of meeting in… in god knows how long.

“Well, I’ll grab us a pot of Reuben’s special blend. Should sober us up and keep us warm.” You suggest, opting to divert your gaze back to the menu before you. This elicits a small hum of approval from the man, a fraction of a nod being earned in addition to the small sound, in case you hadn’t heard it over the clattering of plates and various cutlery. The timbre of his voice was enough to warm your heart.

“What are you thinking about eating, sweetheart?” Eddie then glances your way, smiling crookedly, eyes sparkling under the fluorescent lighting. “I was thinking of grabbing the beech-nut bacon and scrambled eggs.” He voices coolly, as if it was his usual. It came second hand to him, he knew what he wanted immediately, and it made you wonder if he was so certain of his decision making in other aspects of life, in other contexts…

“I was thinking about those french pancakes. They look pretty good, I have to say.” You giggled out. Normally you’d opt for something savoury after a night of drinking but tonight you were in the mood to break some rules. After all, rules were meant to be broken, right? The desire for the pancakes just about dies after the words flow out of your mouth because no sooner than you have finished your sentence, your eyes land on the cherry cheesecake. “On second thought, what do you say to splitting a slice of cheesecake?” You ask, eyes daring to meet his. He snorts out a little laugh before shaking his head. You weren’t impossible, but you were close, and you’d be the death of him without even attempting homicide.

“Cheesecake for breakfast?” He chuckles out, a teasing lilt to his tone of voice. It was playful if anything, and you knew it.

“You’re not the only one who likes to break the rules, Munson.” You tease right back, earning a little shake of the head. What you hadn’t realised is that you’d set him right up for his next line.

“Mmm but any more sugar and I might overdose.” He shoots you a wink, his dashing smile stretching across his features causing his right eye to crinkle just a touch more than his left,and dear god now that you’ve noticed this little detail, you need to uncover more. You wanted to be able to read Eddie like a book, to know what constellations his moles map out on his pale skin. At his wink, there’s a heat that finds itself creeping up your neck only to find home on the apples of your cheeks.

“Okay, okay, french pancakes, and scrambled eggs.” You decide just as the waitress comes to ask for your orders. As you both give her the small list of items you’d like, you steal glances at one another, as if for confirmation that those were the correct choices. She tutts happily, announcing she’ll be back with a pot of coffee but that the wait would be a short while for the food, which frankly neither you nor Eddie minded. If anything, a little wait could stall you both, give you enough time to open up and to explore each other as people, get to know each other even if it were on the surface level and nothing more. As ridiculous as you’d always believed such trivial things to be, you found yourself caring about Eddie Munson’s favourite colour or even the way he took his coffee, you found yourself caring to find out whether he put his left or his right sock on first and if he had a particular brand he bought over others.

The kind waitress comes back a few minutes later, interrupting your discussion about the evening you’d both shared, a big coffee pot in one hand,and two white mugs in another. She carefully placed them on the table, a certain grace to her movements,though you suppose that comes with the profession, before she informed you it would be just a bit longer for the food. With a dazzling smile she was on her way to the next table over. You thanked heras she left before reaching for the hotpot of Reuben’s Special coffee. As your hand made contact with the handle you felt a warmth envelop your fingers.

“Sorry, I- I wanted to get that for you.” A heat crept up Eddie’s neck as he slowly pulled his hand away,ghosting it over your fingers just a little longer, letting the warmth linger a fraction of a second longer than would be seen as appropriate.

“No, no, don’t be sorry, Eds.” You coo out, a shyness taking over your person all of a sudden. “Really, it’s fine.” He allows you to pour his coffee first before you decide to serve yourself some. As you put the pot down, you reach for your mug, wrapping both hands around it in order to warm you up just a pinch quicker. The wind that had whipped your hair around managed to seep into your bones just enough to leave a lingering chill but it wasn’t anything that a cup of joe couldn’t solve. “I actually, I wanted to thank you.” You started before drifting your eyes away from him.

“What ever for, sweetheart?” He mused, mirroring the way you held your mug, propping his elbows on the table and leaning in closer to you. It wouldn’t do anything in way of him hearing you, as much as you both told yourselves that that was it, no, Eddie just wanted to get closer and if you were being completely honest, as did you.

“For earlier. It’s-it wasn’t easy growing up.” You sigh out, hesitating to continue your train of thoughts, yet it was too late to go back now. You had started something that you wouldn’t be able to backtrack on and so within the small window of time that your sentence took up you began fiddling with your hands.

“S’okay, s’not your fault, you know?” Eddie softly responds, his worn musician’s hand instinctively reaching for yours only to stop himself and allow it to drop onto the hard plastified surface of the diner table. You had to admit that you found your heart sinking at how soon he dropped his hand, stopping it short of yours. You so desperately hoped he would change his mind and reach over to wrap his hand securely around yours, hell, you’d even abandon the heat radiating from your mug if it would guarantee being replaced by the much more comforting heat of Eddie’s hands. Yet his even in the absence of his touch, his words still had a profound effect on you. Your heart sped and hammered into your chest as your breath hitched. His understanding would be the death of you, and if death meant finding yourself in front of Eddie, would it be so bad?

“No, no, it’s not, and I know that deep down, but I can’t help but feel like I could have a better control over everything. I feel like I could have had a better handle on the situation.” You suspire, not quite berating yourself over your panic attack but something akin to it. Eddie doesn’t say anything, instead he listens, honey brown eyes trying to meet yours and for a split second you allow it. The sincerity in the emotion written behind his eyes is unmatched, it urged you to keep going, eager to listen to every last word you had to say. There was a twinkle of something there that conveyed an understanding, one that Eddie maybe wasn’t ready to share just yet.

“My mum, she, god, she was a force to be reckoned with when I was young. She was this strong woman who I looked up to and whom I loved dearly. She would take me to the theater and sometimes even the opera house when we had the money — usually that was around Christmas. The opera for us was a whole family affair, father, cousins, aunts, uncles, and all the likes. Father would treat everyone to it and well, it’s what started my love for dancing. Mother encouraged me for a while and she even started me in these children’s ballet classes.” You smiled fondly at the memory, peering into your coffee cup after finally managing to tear your eyes from Eddie’s own. His eyes were pools you could drown in, sinking deep, deep, deep, never hitting the bottom. “You know, she was quite proud of that when I was young. Said it gave me something to do and that it was quite dignified if I were to ask anybody around.

“Somewhere after my sixteenth birthday she became quite wicked,” You recalled the venom she spat at you through gritted teeth and boozy breath, “especially since I didn’t seem to want to give up my practice. It- It gave me freedom, and I think at some point I couldn’t separate it from my person. Dancing became a core part of who I am and how I express myself, a part of how I manage my emotions.” Suddenly Eddie recalled the shocking burlesque performance you put on for your first performance together, different than what you had both practiced yet more passionate, filled with a certain fire that he had only seen again this past evening— yet this evening the fire didn’t flicker and burn him, no, this night it danced in tandem with his newly lit flame. It suddenly made sense to him and he saw you in a clearer light. “My mum eventually thought that I should settle down. I was eighteen when she tried to convince me to take a lover and settle down, play happy little housewife,” you said the last word with air quotes, “but I didn’t want to take any happy pills to be able to stand my life… I’ve seen her, she wasn’t ever happy.” Your grip on your coffee mug tightens slightly, your shoulders becoming stiff.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs gently, a comforting tone laced into his voice and a hesitation present - a hesitation given away by the subtle twitch of his fingers begging to reach out and touch you. “You shouldn’t be forced into marrying anyone. That should be your choice.”

“Yeah, well it’s not like I was really going steady with anyone, or really planning on finding someone to go steady with. I was a little too preoccupied with distracting myself from how nasty she was… I was,” your words caught in your throat, forming a lump that was becoming far too hard to swallow, “I was told I was spreading my legs for strangers.” You admit unfeelingly, voice devoid of all emotion. You had to distance yourself from it altogether in fear of letting any tears or ugly emotions loose. It was this moment that you chose to take a sip of coffee, allowing the bitter liquid to tether you to this very moment instead of to the past. You didn’t want to remember the past and waste your time in front of Eddie, not when time with him was so limited and such a rare commodity.

The waitress came back carrying your late night indulgences and placed them in front of the two of you, cheerily telling you both to enjoy before sending Eddie a little wink that caused an ugly emotion to boil in your blood. It coursed through your veins and lit your body on fire - a white heat that was so hot that it became unbearable and you just prayed that Eddie couldn’t see it. You thanked her bitterly, though hoping that your true emotions wouldn’t seep through. She seemed not to notice, and if she did, she paid no mind. Little did you know that the frizzy haired man hadn’t even noticed the wink, his eyes never having left your figure since you began telling your tale. He felt for you, your backstory incredibly similar to his own, and he’d be damned if you weren’t one of the first people he opened up to about it.

“I hope you don’t feel like that when you dance at the club.” Eddie noted gently, picking up his fork and cutting into his eggs. “I- I- may I permit myself, and pardon me if it’s inappropriate, but may I permit myself to say that you are absolutely breathtaking when you take to the stage.” A red tint blossomed across the apples of the musicians cheeks, as if shy, embarrassed even, of his admission.

“Eds, you don’t ever need to apologize for such kind words.” Your face heated gently, forcing you to engage in a staring contest with one of the many coffee rings on the table. “I- anyway, father was actually really supportive. I’m his only child and he’s- while he’s really protective, he wanted to see me happy, you know?” You shrugged, a small smile dancing across your lips, soft, remembering. “Eventually he suggested I dance at the club because I was so dedicated to it and well, it would be safer than others. I get it, I do. I wish sometimes that he would let up a little but I know it’s coming from a place of love.” A small shrug finds itself in your body language. “I don’t know too much about father, but from what I’ve overheard, I think- I think he’s protective because I’m the only child he can have, and even then I was a miracle.” Eddie’s features softened and in that moment he understood a wider scope of what was actually going on behind the scenes, why your father was such a hardass, and why he was so protective of you — his only child, and likely the only one he’d ver have.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He breathed out, his doe eyes softening as he looks over your features, the frown lines settling into his soft features, eyebrows furrowing gently.

“No, no,” you wave off, lifting your mug to your lips once again, taking a long sip before opting to cut into your crêpe, “I’m over it, mostly anyway.” You wave off before taking in a mouthful of the sugary and glutinous dessert. “What about you?” You opt to pry into Eddie’s life, desperate to change the subject, shift the focus from you and to maybe learn a little something about the musician before you… for professional reasons only.

“There isn’t much to tell, darling.” He sighed as if trying to gear himself up to confess his deepest sins. You were the church confessional and he was the poor transgressor ready to divulge his deepest wrongdoings and beg for forgiveness still, you encouraged him with a small nod and a ghost of a smile that painted itself onto your features. The sweet look that adorned your features only pushed his bravery to the very edge, begging him to take a sip of the bitter liquid before him before he jumped into it, his thoughts running so quickly they might as well have been a film reel playing out a scene in front of him. “Look, I did not have an easy childhood. I was seen as a neerdowell by classmates and their parents alike - I was a leper, nobody would come near me and that’s when I picked up playing the guitar. I’d learn to play radio hits by ear and eventually that evolved into teaching myself more complex pieces. Eventually my parents caught wind that I was playing what they called the devil’s music.” He lets out a sordid chuckle, a little dark in nature. It told you that it wasn’t something Eddie had managed to fully get over.

“Well, I’ll tell you there’s definitely a devilish charm to it.” There’s a devilish charm to you. You try to ease the tension, a smile threatening to tug at your lips but instead it ghosts over them shyly, hesitant to make itself known in case it wasn’t a welcome reaction. Your small tease taunted Eddie in ways you couldn’t have known — the man looked down into his coffee mug, hair falling into his face, a curtain to hide the dusty rose colour that coated his cheeks while he took your little quip as flirting. Little did he know that that was exactly how you had meant it. He shook his head at you, acknowledging that he appreciated the little joke you had made before clearing his throat and continuing on.

“I don’t think my parents found it as charming as you do, darling.” He dared meet your eyes, his whiskey gaze piercing yours. At his unabashed boldness your breath caught in your throat, the light flirtation dying out only to be replaced by the blossoms of desire. “They had initially forbidden me from playing it but when I didn’t let up, spirit of teenage rebellion and all that, they kicked me out. I went to live with my Uncle Wayne after that.” He took a beat to let you process what he was saying, your eyes scanning his face for any ounce of malice or discomfort but. You found none. “Wayne might have danced with the devil a little himself.” Eddie broke out in a wolfish grin and god did it send a shiver down your spine. His smile was stunning, a real megawatt smile that you thought would be perfect for Hollywood, and yet he was right here with you.

“I’m willing to bet he didn’t discourage you.” You hummed out before tearing your eyes away from the musician and back to your plate, carefully cutting another piece of your breakfast. While you spoke Eddie did the same, and through a quick mouthful chased down with some bitter coffee he answered earnestly.

“No, god no, he indulged in jazz as much as I did and he encouraged me to play music of whatever sort I wanted. He even encouraged me to pick up multiple instruments. I know you haven’t really seen it quite yet but I primarily play guitar. You think I’m good with my hands on the keys, just wait ‘til you see my fingers moving across those strings.” He sent you a wink which had your face heating. “Anyway, as soon asI was old enough to play clubs, I would. I applied to s’fuckin many of em and would sing, play piano or guitar, anything that was thrown my way, I’d try.” He shrugged, cutting into his meal. Little did you know that his singing voice was beautiful and melded perfectly with his guitar playing. His voice was gruff - it was something you’d discover someday soon, and it had women swooning over the young beatnik. It wasn’t something he expected and yet it didn’t affect him as much as one would have thought.

“Okay mister big shot,” you teased, “if you learned so much on your own, where did you learn to dance like you did tonight?” You propped your elbows up on the table and leaned in, a mischievous smile adorning your features, a glint in your eyes. In all truth, you wanted to know Eddie inside and out. Your heart ached for him as he told his story, similar to yours in ways that you wouldn’t have imagined. You wanted to reach across the way and hug him, you wanted to hold him tight and tell him you were proud of him and how far he has come, that you were grateful for him already. You wished desperately to be able to show him a small ounce of affection but you sat frozen.

“I- uh- s’no big deal, really.” He mumbled, a little embarrassed to admit the following. “I learned at these clubs. If I wasn’t playing music I had some dancers and other folks teach me.” Your heart skipped a beat before falling into your guts, your stomach growing queasy with the turbulence. “I just wanted to hone my craft,” the man rushed out after sensing your discomfort. Why he felt the need to clarify it was unclear, why he wanted to spare your feelings also wasn’t exactly clear but here he was trying to make sure you knew he wasn’t looking at other people in the same manner he looked at you, “it wasn’t about indulgence or being close to these people, I swear. It was about being able to move up in the industry and make it to 52nd.” He assured you. The tornado of emotions flooding your body settled and your heart slowly crawled its way back into your chest. “Honestly, it was also about affording my uncle his new place.” He opted to hide behind his hair, dropping his utensils and bringing his mug up to his face in order to obscure his features even more. At this your heart warmed.

“Oh, Eddie.” You cooed out, his name on your tongue sending a wave of warmth through the man. There was something about it that he adored. Maybe it was how soft the ‘e’s’ were, maybe it was just your honey voice dripping with amber sweetness, but something tugged at his heart. While a forbidden desire was always present when it came to you, this was something else. There was nothing exciting about the way you said his name, nothing forbidden, and yet it elicited a certain reaction in him that he wasn’t used to.

“‘S the least I can do for Wayne, you know? He gave me everything, and he deserves a good and comfortable life.” He took a long sip of his coffee before putting the mug down. “Besides, I have him to thank for meeting you.” He beamed, flirtation creeping into his voice, his lopsided smile allowing his dimples to become pronounced. God did you love his dimples.

“You seem really fond of your uncle.” You softly let out, mirroring his gentle smile, stars hung in your eyes for the way he spoke of his true family. “Do you still get to see him often?” You dare pry a little further.

“Yeah, yeah I do. I visit him every second weekend of the month actually. He lives in Brooklyn now. He wanted something a little quieter and didn’t want me to break the bank buying him a place.” He shrugs. “He actually put in a good word for me for uh… the club.” He admits to you. “Phoned your dad up and practically begged him to give me a shot, and for that I’m grateful.The old man didn’t want to tell me about it but I pried it out of him. I really owe everything to him.” Your heart ached for Eddie and yet it soared all the same. His admiration for his father figure had you yearning for that same admiration from him or rather the passion and love he spoke with. It was enough to prick tears into your eyes that you quickly blinked away.

“Oh bullshit there isn’t much to tell.” You chuckle from behind your coffee mug, a smile cracking across your features as delicately as the cracks in a porcelain doll and Eddie swears that your laugh is his favourite sound, and your smile is his favourite thing. Likewise, the little smile that tugs at Eddie’s plush lips ignites a fire in your heart that you didn’t even realise you- no, he’d been kindling. That smile that he offered you ripped open the floodgates to new emotions that he was slowly chipping his way to, and suddenly it dawned on you that maybe, just maybe the turbulent changes in emotions, all ranging from adoration to misplaced jealousy could be the lead up into something more than carnal desire for the man.

“You got me there, sweetheart.” There it is, that pet name that he had for you. You swore that little night blooming flowers grew around your heart, the stems encircling it and squeezing as they grew. “I guess there is a lot to tell, I just never thought of it as important enough to share.” He shrugged before reaching for his coffee. It was warm enough to go down smoothly but not hot enough to burn — enough to cover the growing warmth in his cheeks that you caused him. There was a pause before he took his next sip, eyes flicking to you, “Not until now anyway.” And with that he swallowed down another mouthful of coffee, letting it overwhelm his taste buds, drowning out the overwhelming thoughts that threatened to swirl at his admission.

A you’re full of shit is on the tip of your tongue but with the sincerity that spilled from his voice, and the gentle look he had given you, the words died in your mouth. “You mean that?” You asked, a small tremble in your voice. Being privy to this man’s inner most thoughts had you reeling with a certain anxiety that you couldn’t completely pinpoint. It dawned on you then that it mattered what he thought of you, what a man thought of you was hardly ever of your concern and often you dismissed it, it didn’t matter, not until now. If you were being honest, that scared you. If it were true that Eddie was cultivating a garden around your heart, threatening to take care of it through gentle words, ernest secrets, and stolen evenings, you were done for. There is not much one can do when a person so choses to invest time and love into another.

“Every word, sweetheart.” He let himself breathe, a pit settling into his heart, gentle, subtle, but ever present. He couldn’t tell exactly what the sensation was, but he knew that it was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It was something sacred between the two of you, a secret kept between two people, teetering on forbidden sin.

“You know, I never cared for a man’s opinion of me,” you looked down to your plate as you gently placed the mug on the table, clasping it with both hands as if for support, and god knows you needed it, “and yet I find myself caring for yours. It scares me.” You admit, hands starting to tremble from nerves. No amount of white hot heat of spotlights elicited such a reaction from you, no amount of eyes made your breath catch and your body tremble, and yet one look from the curly haired man could have your knees buckling. It was with great surprise that you weren’t overcome with anxiety after your confession and yet you still refused to meet his gaze.

“You have nothing to be scared about.” His voice flows smooth, words soft and tender, a certain truth spilling over into them without hesitation. Internally, Eddie fought with himself, willing himself to sit still, and yet he wanted so desperately to be able to see your eyes in this moment. In a soft whisper, a ghost of a breath you heard a “forgive me darling.” Before his mug clattered gently against the surface of the table, a few drops of the cacao coloured liquid splashing onto the linoleum surface of the table in his haste and his calloused fingers made their way to your chin delicately - the complete opposite of how he had handled his coffee cup. Your eyes flick up to meet his, the honey warm tones sparkling under the warm lights of the diner. “You’re allowed to care about my opinion of you as I care about your opinion of me. It’s… sweetheart, no matter how hard I try to act cold in favour of your father, I couldn’t do that to you. I care too deeply about what you think of me, god only knows why, but I need you to know that the feeling is mutual.” He breathes, allowing his hand to finally drop to the table, leaving it palm up as a sort of offering if you’re so willing to take it.

“What’s so special about me?” You egg him on, a certain amusement sprinkling itself into your voice as you try to diffuse the tension. To say you hadn’t recited a silent prayer that the gap between the two of you would close would be a blatant lie. It was a desire that flicked across your mind before you opted to push it down.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He counters, mirroring the intonation in your voice.

“Touché.” Your eyes flick to his hand before you opt to bring your coffee to your red lips, allowing the liquid to spill down your throat with a bite. You were still afraid to give Eddie too much of yourself and especially so soon but to say his touch wasn’t welcome and that it didn’t fill you with a foreign feeling would be a blatant lie so as you replaced the mug onto the flat surface and pulled your hand from the warm porcelain, you caved in and peeled your fingers one by one away from the handle and slowly crawled them over to Eddie’s fingers, daring to allow yourself the luxury of his touch. His breath caught in his throat, heart speeding faster than greasers who burn rubber for fun on Saturday nights, not having expected you to take him up on such an offer, much less an unspoken one.

“Hey, what say you to getting out of here and watching the sun rise over Queensboro bridge?” He pushes his luck this time, hoping for you to go along with his like-criminal plan. The answer is on the tip of your tongue and yet it fizzles out almost as soon as the excitement had you caught up with the offer.

“I can’t.” You let out, dejected, hoping he wouldn't take it badly but the gentle tug of his hand pulling back tells you otherwise. In a split second you give his fingers a squeeze, a plea to stay as you were for just a second longer, to pretend you two weren’t what you were or who you were for just a fleeting moment and he complies, surprised by your sudden move. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s that I don’t want to push my luck with my father. I’ve probably already disappeared for too long.” With that, his rejection melts from his face, replaced with a look of slight concern, and yet he can’t bring himself to wallow in self pity for long because your warm hand is still in his, boldly squeezing it in fear that he’d pull back, and if he were being frank, it’s the last thing he wants to do right now. He wants to keep this moment alive for much longer than he is realistically able to and so it’s with great reluctance that he calls for the bills, making sure that the cost of the coffee pot would be split down the both of them. He made sure that he took on a penny more than you did, taking on thirteen cents while you covered twelve. All in all, both bills were very reasonable and did not leave a hole in your pockets.

Once all was paid, Eddie tugged his coat on only after he held yours out for you, and he promised to walk you back to your father’s club, not willing to leave you alone for a second. The morning air is chilly, nipping at your cheeks as you walk towards the aforementioned establishment. It was still dark and the streetlights and neon signs illuminated your way, creating a certain slice of peace that was hard to come by for folks such as yourselves. You both people watched as you spoke to each other in hushed voices, and to any onlooker, you both appeared as a couple that was so painfully in love with each other that it made those around you sick, and yet you were neither in love, nor a couple, or at least that’s what you would tell yourselves for the time being. The world, however, had other plans in the works.

Too soon was your arrival at the club, and being the gentleman he is, the beatnik with dreamy eyes walks you all the way back to your dressing room door, wishing you a goodnight and letting his eyes flick to your lips momentarily. You barely have time to register the movement as you too are busy wondering whether he might offer you a small parting gift but it never comes.Instead it’s all pining and longing stares while his fingers ghost across the backs of yours. Part of your heart sinks, but what would it even be? What did you even want? A hug? A kiss? No, no, you never looked at your father’s club musicians that way. Besides, what good would it do hoping for something of the sort when you’d only known him a short while, right? No matter how magical the night was, it was just that, the magic of a scandalous evening with daddy’s best musician.

“Thank you, Eds, it was a really lovely evening.” You chose to admit to him, tilting your head down and tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. Your eyes flick up at Eddie through your thick lashes, unbeknownst to what exactly it was doing to him but if it was anything like what his next move would do to you, so lord help him. In a smooth move the suave musician leans in, allowing his plush lips to brush your ear before allowing himself the luxury to whisper a small sugary sweet parting.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” The murmur of the two simple words against your ear send an electric shock down your spine, your body yearning for him to invade your space like that once again but almost as soon as he had overstepped the line that wasn’t to be crossed, he retreated back to his own territory, a sort of no man’s land of space being left between you. A warm drunken smile dances across his lips before he pulls away, turning around ready to head down the hallway.

“Goodnight, Eds.” You call sweetly behind him, mirroring his movement before pushing your dressing room door open. As you close the door behind you, you rest your back against it, completely in disbelief over the evening itself and just how perfect it was, how seamlessly it blended into the morning. Truthfully, you couldn’t wait to go to bed, and surely you’d be in late tomorrow, but that was tradition after all. You quietly padded over to your wardrobe, stripping away your clothing and changing into your day dress, spraying two puffs of perfume and gathering your things before moving to take off your makeup. Just as you’re doing so, your dressing room door opens in a panic, your father in front of you, face riddled with anxiety until his eyes land on you - relief flooding his features.

“Where were you all night?” There’s a roar threatening to come out behind his words but he makes a gallant attempt to even his tone of voice, a quiver finding itself threaded through every word. He was worried about you, especially after the happenings earlier in the evening. All he cared about was your protection, your well being, and when he couldn’t find you, he practically tore the club apart hoping to locate you.

“I was just on the roof smoking. I needed a breather.” The irony of your statement wasn’t lost on either of you but the lie was. It slipped out almost effortlessly and your father was none the wiser. You wanted to pay attention, to console him, but part of you couldn’t bring yourself to give half an ounce of care, not when he was so overbearing that he needed to know your every move, and so you continued taking your makeup off.

“And you just decided to pull the ole Irish goodbye on your own father and worry him half to death?” He pressed further, malice starting to seep in through the cracks. His brow furrowed at how little you seemed to be affected, pleading for a reaction from you, a plea you did not comply with.

“Father, please,” You beg, voice devoid of emotion, flat, unfeeling, “I just needed to get away, to clear my head. I needed a moment to think. I know you want to protect me but you can’t keep me under lock and key.” You allow the cotton balls you were using to fall to fall to the surface of your vanity, a knot in your stomach over the protectiveness your father exerted over you. You understood his intentions but while he viewed his protectiveness as a freedom, it started to wear on you more and more. A bigger enclosure was an enclosure nonetheless. You felt like a bird that got moved into a bigger cage — one big enough to accommodate for its wingspan but not enough to allow it to fly. It was suffocating.

“While you’re working at my club I can damn well try to keep you safe.” He roared out, immediate regret flooding him almost as quickly as the regulars flooded their stomachs full of alcohol, though their regret came the morning after.

“Father, that’s enough.” You suddenly snapped, you never spoke harshly to him, always the grateful one for everything he has done for you, but as soon as he introduced a certain neerdowell to the club your eyes were opened to the constraints you were put under. “I do not live with you anymore and I certainly don’t live under a roof you’ve given me. I’m an adult, and as much as I love you, and I do, I don’t need you over my shoulder or breathing down my neck. I needed room to breathe,” and he left the cage door open for a split second, “so I went and got air on the roof. Please just… Give me a little freedom of my own.” Frustrated, that was the only way to describe how you were feeling about this conversation. After the wild night of dancing and temptation that you’ve had, you didn’t want it ruined.

“But,” your father starts, but you cut him off quicker than he could say lickitysplit.

“Father, please. It’s enough that you see the worst in Mr. Munson, who has been nothing but a gentleman by the way, but I am capable of holding my own and you know I’ve gone out by myself many a time, so please just trust me a little.” Part of you hopes that this might sway him to let up on this whole ban on dating the musicians,or rather the club musicians dating you, but the next thing from his mouth has your heart sinking into the deepest pit in your stomach.

“Fine, but if any of them musicians make any moves just know they’ll be paying with their hands.” Your father threatened before sighing and rubbing over his face. “I just want to protect you.” A tick of irritation shot through your body, who was he to tell you who could and could not be in your presence, much less to threaten bodily harm to them. To you, violence was rarely the solution, and frankly you couldn’t believe that your father would stoop so low or even go so far as to dare attempt such a thing.

“Father.” You warn. “I know you want what’s best but… what if one day,” you try, you do, but he cuts you off almost immediately.

“There will not be one day with a musician, you hear? I know what indulgences they play with. I won’t set you up like your mother desperately wants to, but for your best interest, musicians are forbidden, you hear?” You don’t answer him, in fact you turn and swallow hard, desperately willing tears not to slip down your face. You never got into arguments with your father and never over men. You had but an inkling of an idea over why this would upset you but part of you couldn’t bring yourself to understand, it had never been a problem, not until a certain curly haired man entered your life. And that was the root of the problem, wasn’t it, that one musician. You were certain that even if it weren’t a title he held, the effect would nonetheless be the same. After all, it was your very first meeting with him, the moment your eyes fell upon him, that you were completely and utterly done in. You swallowed hard before opting to wet another cotton ball, this time with a toner that might take off the remainder of the grime before you could wash your face propper, only using this move to hide the tears that welled over. Your fathers words shouldn’t have made a difference, Eddie had only entered your professional life a day or so ago, so why was this affecting you so much? “I love you, I just want what’s best for you.” Your father chokes out through your deliberate ignorance.

“I’m going to head home.” The cold reply shocks your father, the frosty reply seeping into his bones and freezing him to his core. There was hardly ever a moment you spoke to him in such a detached and unfeeling manner, and when you did it was often for good reason, so what could it have been this time? The ugly emptiness wormed its way into your soul, a darkness nestling cobwebs into the deepest crevices of your heart. With haste you found yourself storming through your dressing room, collecting your belongings, and shoving past your father.

“You know I,” he attempts to patch up the rift he had created but without any avail, not realising that with every word he tore a fabric into the bond that you both shared.

“Goodnight, father.” You respond curtly before walking out and shutting the door behind you, heels clicking down the hall as you make your way out the club door. Luckily you had nothing to practice that you haven’t already and so your tradition of coming in later wouldn’t be impeded, and besides if he was going to pester you about the events that transpired then you’d rather not be around him. You are an adult, you should be able to manage your own relationships without the interference of your family or an overprotective father.

Early mornings were strange for performers and musicians alike,the hustle and bustle of the city waking up while the entertainers were just tripping back into their apartments to get some shut eye, and you were no exception. You burst through your door around five in the morning, prepared to make yourself another coffee and wash your face while you waited for it to brew. Your checklist was simple: get ready for bed, slip on a nightgown, wash your face, and have your coffee before brushing your teeth and tucking yourself into bed for the night… Technically morning. And so while your coffee brewed, you shut your curtains and placed the book you were reading in bed last night back onto your nightstand, pulling the beaded metal string to turn on your table lamp. A warm glow was cast across the room as you paced around searching for your little black number. It was satin with lace adorning the decolletage, and it made you feel absolutely stunning even when in between the waking world and Mr.. Sandman’s realm.

You did manage to pour yourself a small amount of coffee, sipping it before allowing yourself to abandon it on your kitchen counter, saving it for a few hours from now. Worst case you’d just reheat it. You then brushed your teeth before padding your way across your hardwood floors and crawling into bed, turning off your little Victorian style lamp. You allowed your thoughts to lull you into a calm and pleasant sleep, thinking of the “not date”, allowing a smile to grace your features. Your slumber is pleasant, undisturbed, and for once you sleep solidly through the morning and through to about two in the afternoon, at which point you roused with a small yawn and a hunger burning a hole through your stomach.

The rest of the week is filled with learning a new number, a jaunty little tune that drove Eddie mad. He had to sit and watch you dance with someone else, some relatively known fellow whose name escaped him and frankly it escaped you as well. You weren’t performing a little burlesque strip tease this week, no, it was a swing number that had you fuming. Whether this was your father’s idea of punishment or whether it was for the good of the club to bring in someone relatively famous you didn’t know but your heart wasn’t in it like it should have been. Dancing with this newcomer was wildly different than dancing with Eddie. While Eddie was a breath of fresh air, this man was a suffocating smog, making it hard to breathe. It seemed that every move needed to be perfectly calculated with him, he was stiff, something a good swing dancer shouldn’t have been. He was essentially incapable of improvisation and would chastise you for any trip ups that came from how meticulous he wanted to assure you both were. There wasn’t room for error which was starting to get on your nerves incredibly so. You wanted nothing more than to dance with Eddie at this moment, permitting yourself to steal glances his way every time your current dance partner spun you around.

On the other side of the room, however, the musician behind the swing piece was steaming from his ears, the little green monster having crawled into his heart, squeezing unbearably tight while it fed poisonous thoughts into his ear. With each word, each interaction, each fleeting touch, the musician became more and more possessive. over something, or rather someone, that wasn’t even his. He wasn’t even sure why he was overcome with such an ugly emotion but still it burned through him like a cold fire. Thankfully the practice reached its apex before coming to a rather swift conclusion, one that both you and Eddie welcomed. You curtly wished your partner a better practice next time, and told him that you’d see him tomorrow for the show before you sauntered over to the man you actually wanted to see. As you reached him, you planted your elbows firmly on the hornbeam surface of the piano.

“Hey, sweetheart.” His smile immediately melted any fears you held in your heart, and your anxieties were smoothed over, even just temporarily. “You looked like you were having a ball.” He notes, a sliver of sadness tinged his tone of voice, immediately giving his true emotions away, not that you minded. You understood in fact, but instead of jealousy leading your actions, it was a desire.

“Oh yeah, a real dreamboat that one.” You chuckled out with a delicate roll of your eyes, extending one arm out and over to his side, silently hoping he might be so daring as to take your hand even if only for a second. “Honestly, he bashed my ears* a little much, a real wet rag* for the amount he had to say and improvise.” You openly admit through a small snort, one that causes Eddie’s lips to tug up in a quick motion, tension breaking away completely, easing any worries he might have had about your new dance partner. “Say daddy-o,” you tease, eyes flicking up at him through your lashes, “you wouldn’t happen to be free tonight, would ya?” You purred out, squishing your elbows against your chest in a tantalizing manner.

“Mmm, depends on who’s asking.” A grin splits across his handsome face, dimples appearing on his cheeks, gracing his features gently, his toothy smile making your heart swell. The flirtation had you on your toes, it was thrilling knowing that this little bit of banter that you allowed yourselves was forbidden, and that’s the thing about all things forbidden, they were much much more thrilling.

“Oh, just a little bird.” You wink his way, flashing him a gentle smile in return. You couldn’t help but act in a more daring way around the beatnik, there was something about being around the bad boy that gave you a burst of newfound confidence, one that wasn’t solely reserved for the stage. That was the thing, the stage was yours and you commanded it, and the music moved you, but when it came to speaking to people it was different. You had so little experience being suave around others that it wasn’t second nature, if you weren’t actively trying to seduce, you didn’t know how to act, subtlety wasn’t your forte, nor was it particularly desired in your field. You always held sway over crowds, over men, forwardness was rewarded, and some even begged for it.

“Oh well in that case I’m convinced, sweetheart. What do you have in mind?” He entertains, his eyes trailing down your figure before coming back up to meet your own. It was a risky move but it was a risk he was willing to take. Your soft smile split into a wicked grin, unable to contain yourself any longer.

“I was thinking maybe we can have a quiet evening, a little rehearsal, my place? After all, you’re the best dance partner.” You admit with a flush of heat to your cheeks. “If you need to make an excuse, I trust you to come up with one.” Eddie couldn’t pinpoint why, but something about voicing that you trusted him after only a week had his heart soaring like a bird free to fly south for the cold winter. It cracked the wall that he had attempted to build up even further than you had cracked it the first few days. He just couldn’t help himself around you, everything sang to him as if you were a song written for only his ears. You take a minute to bite your lip before you turn around, hair tossing over your shoulder with the speed at which you spun on your heel, and sauntering off to your dressing room to pick up your things when you run into your father.

“What are you doing?” He hissed out at you, not meaning to sound so harsh as his hand came out to grab your arm but he stopped himself in his tracks, knowing it was too harsh of a gesture. “What were you talking to Mr. Munson about?” He pries, his tone gentler this time around.

“The next number. This one is too jaunty - it’s good for an old barrelhouse but not for this club. Besides, that man you have me dancing with is a wet rag. Famous or not, he’s only good at one thing and that’s moving his feet.” You scoff out, pushing past your father to gather your belongings. What you don’t see in doing so is the sad expression that adorns his features. He messed up, that much he knows,, yet your father was much too stubborn to admit it, almost like an ox in that sense, yet all he wanted was to keep you safe. Why wasn’t that something that you wanted to see? With a disheartened sigh he brings his hands across his face, rubbing it in frustration and hoping that it might wake him up a little bit after his nearly sleepless night. He glances between you and his newest musician before shaking his head and walking away.

On your way out of the club you managed to catch Eddie, catching his arm and begging him to wait before he heads out too. You pull out your fountain pen and a scrap paper from your bag and scribble loopy numbers out for him, your penmanship not being the most immaculate at this moment, and how could it be when you were using your hand as a notepad. You jot down your address for him, telling him to show up at eight on the dot to which he tells you that he wouldn’t miss this for the world.

Your evening is filled with running menial errands to ensure your soirée is as near perfect as it can be. Buying a new vintage, a few candles, and the last few ingredients you needed for your stuffed mushrooms and cucumber canapés. Once you get home, you don’t hesitate to put on one of your favourite records, Quando Ella Sai/Meia Luz by Joao Gilberto. It softly flowed through the air and guided your hips in slow and steady movements, swaying from side to side as you pulled out your wine glasses and lit candles, bringing out an older vintage that you had laying in your wine rack. A special wine for a special occasion. You take the chance to lay your coffee table books out more neatly, stacking them perfectly one on top of the other, the largest finding itself at the bottom. You dust off your bookshelves and rearrange your plants into a more pleasing manner before moving back to your fragrant kitchen, turning the oven off and leaving your stuffed mushrooms to keep warm until your guests arrival.

A sharp knock knocks you from your anxious concentration and rapidly guides you to the front door, causing you to rip it open in record speed. You’re met with Eddie’s war features and you can’t help but drink him in, his attire much different from his white button up and black slack. His toned chest is covered in a tight black t-shirt, over it a well fitted leather jacket, and a nice pair of cuffed black jeans hugged his hips just right. Your mouth salivated at the sight of him, never having seen him dressed so casually, and you couldn’t help but admit that you adored this look on him. If you’d run into him on the street, you’d never have been able to tell that he played jazz for a living.

“O-oh.” You let out inadvertently. “H-hello, handsome.” Your voice comes out much more hoarse than you’d meant it to, all other greetings dying on your tongue as soon as you’d laid your eyes on him.

“Well hello there, bunny.” He winked, a small chuckle escaping past his lips and tumbling into the open air, whiskey eyes sparkling in the candlelight. Everything about him screamed sex appeal and you could barely contain yourself, but you had to. The chances of him even sharing the same inkling of a feeling for you that you held for him were slim to none, at least in your eyes, but little did you know that he could barely contain himself just looking at you. The outfit you were wearing hugged your waist just right, exposing enough skin to be tantalizing but not enough to give away too much, it left him curious, and yet it burned a hole through his heart as heat creeped lower. That wasn’t the only problem though, his honey eyes darkened with a desire to pull you into him, to tell you how you take his breath away and yet make it so hard to breathe without you. His eyes then focus on what’s going on behind you. “This all for me?” He asks as you allow him to step in,

“For us, yeah. I figure it would be a quieter, more private place to talk.” You close the door behind him as he takes his shoes off in consideration. You didn’t care if your neighbours thought you to be fast*, you just wanted to enjoy the company of the man before you behind closed doors, away from interruptions and prying eyes. Your counterpart hums in approval before padding over to your couch, sitting down and uncorking the wine, pouring you a glass.

“You’re bad,” He chuckles out, “but you’re right. I- I’m glad you invited me over.” He mentions as he hands you your glass, ears straining to hear the record that you were playing. His heart rate picked up as you sat next to him, fingers brushing as he handed you your glass. If it were up to him, you would never serve yourself a glass of wine ever again, he’d be the one to do it for you.

“It’s João Gilberto.” You tell him as he pours your wine. “It’s a record that came out three years ago and I’m in love with it.” You admit bashfully. “My father went on a vacation to Brazil and discovered this record, their jazz is much different from ours but I can’t complain, sometimes it can be a breath of fresh air.” You bashfully admit, looking away from Eddie. He doesn’t judge you though, he couldn’t, he loved the passion you spoke with and he found that it mirrored his own. It was rare to find someone so driven for the music itself as opposed to the dancing and fame. To some even the promiscuity was alluring, and yet you were driven by nothing but a fiery passion for your craft and that which drove it.

“It’s beautiful.” The man breathes, like you, he thinks but the words die on his tongue. Instead, he shrugs his jacket off, folding it over the back of your couch. His tattooed arms were exposed to you in full for the first time, and you found yourself pining over something you hadn’t even realised you found attractive. The dark ink that littered his skin beckoned you to discover anecdotes that tied his life together with a little red string, and yet you wouldn’t dare ask him about these until much later. The amount of tattoos he had was certainly near felonious and if you weren’t sitting, you were sure you’d be on your knees for the man, and while you might have thought that you’d be praying to a false idol before, falling to temptation, it rang even more true now.

As Eddie takes a sip of his wine, he glances over your apartment, eyes landing on your neat bookshelves, littered with books of all sorts, fiction, non fiction, fantasy, biographies, you even had a section dedicated to textbooks and frankly, your guest couldn’t believe the assortment you had. He stayed seated, however.

“Thank you, Eds. I was hoping you’d like it.” With a smooth move, you set your glass upon your wooden coffee table. “Would you like to dance?” You inquire “Not to pressure you, but it might make this special album hold an even fonder place in my heart.” You bashfully whisper the last part, as if your neighbours had an ear to the wall.

“There is nothing that would bring me more pleasure.” With a bite of his lip and his eyes welling to the brim with an unnamed emotion, he too placed his wine glass back onto your coffee table, replacing his grip on the stem with a gentle grip to your fingers, loose and inviting. He stands up, tugging you with him, guiding you over to an open space in your living room, pulling your hand to his chest, placing it directly over his rapidly beating heart. “So…” He trails off, teasing, “best dance partner?”

“Oh fuck off.” You giggle out. “Yeah, you are. I think you’re probably the best dance partner I’ve had in years.” You admit as he begins to sway gently, one of his hands trailing to your waist while the other gently envelops the hand placed over his right side. You follow his lead as he begins gently moving his feet to the music, slow quarter turn after slow quarter turn, holding your waist tight to hit body, cherishing it and this moment as if it might be the last time he gets to experience this. Slowly his head drops down next to yours, his lips next to your ear, his caramel hair tickling your face softly. There is nothing in this moment you’d rather be doing than dancing with him, breathing in the same air, breathing in his intoxicating perfume. The sweetness of it filled your lungs and the lemon notes left a fresh tang, balancing out with a woody scent that complimented him so well that it made your head spin. This is exactly where you wanted to be, to stay curled up in his arms and hidden from the rest of the world.

While your internal monologue spun, Eddie couldn’t help but feel like the devil had sunken his claws into him and pulled him from the high heavens, a fallen angel in a world of scandalous temptation, and it was working. His lips against your ear were but a slippery slope into the plushness pressing just below and trailing down your neck as he told you how right this forbidden fruit felt. Your body to his and your head to his shoulder felt right, and if his fall from grace meant having you by his side, why wouldn’t he take that chance? All warnings against this sinful slice of heaven were moot when it came to you, especially now that he had started to get to know you for who you actually are. As the song drew to an end, the mop headed man knew he had to keep this proximity, or at least he would damn well try.

“Thank you.” He murmured against your ear, squeezing you a pinch tighter than he had been mere moments earlier, a movement that allowed him to feel the shiver that ran from the top of your spine all the way down to the tip of your tailbone. The sudden sensation forced you to snuggle into him, lips falling open, a jagged breath leaving you.

“For what?” It was muffled against his t-shirt, almost inaudible, as you fisted the black fabric on his lower back for stability. It had him swallowing hard, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, as he thought of how he was going to respond to you. The words were lodged behind a sort of barrier, refusing to make their way to the tip of his tongue and yet he managed a choked breath against the shell of your ear.

“For giving me the time of day.” At this, the proximity had become a bit much and he pulled away but his hands stayed cemented on you, unable to pull them away as much as he tried. There was a certain pull to you that he couldn’t shake.

“Oh, uh,” you softly stammered, missing the warmth of his body against yours, “well technically I’m giving you the time of night, but I don’t see why I wouldn’t.” You recovered jokingly, hoping to smooth over any tension that had been created. A soft laugh emitted from the musician, hair shaking in time with his little chuckles. “Afterall, sin is the only note of vivid colour that persists in the modern world.” You tease. His head shoots up, eyes boring into yours before you catch the gentle tug at his lips.

“Did you just quote Oscar Wilde to me?” A mischievous twinkle finds home in his eyes. As if you couldn’t be more perfect for him, you had just given away a tangible part of your person, something that wouldn’t signify much to most but it had his heart swelling. He knew you had bookshelves filled to the brim with all sorts of books, but maybe he should have paid more attention to what they actually contained. You clearly weren’t just a dancer at daddy’s club, no, you were much more rounded out as a person, a depth to you that most wouldn’t even have the chance to see. Nobody would have the chance to see this intelligent and inquisitive side of you that quoted authors as a means of flirting, as a means of communicating. Not many got to see the deeply devoted bookworm in you, and the care that you put into your collection of novels and textbooks. You surrounded yourself with knowledge during your spare time and it was a rare sight, even for your family.

“I might have.” Your smile mirrored his, albeit shy, as if a trickle of embarrassment found itself in it. The fact was that you had read The Picture of Dorian Grey maybe one too many times for it to be healthy, it was one of your favourite novels. It allowed you to escape from your own reality and indulge in different lives all while living your own. While you were often trapped in a birdcage, books gave you a temporary reprieve and allowed you to spread your wings farther than you were ever allowed to.

“The Picture of Dorian Grey.” The man whispered out, breath barely reaching your face. “What other secrets do you hold?” He pried, a glimmer flashing across this expression, of what you didn’t know. That’s when you decided to tug him towards your hardwood bookshelves, covered in books from floor to ceiling, a gesture that spoke ‘be my guest’. He didn’t think he’d be so lucky as for you to show him your little private world, and yet here you were, opening up to him more than you had ever opened up to anyone since you began your career. His eyes flicked over a few of the titles you had, authors he knew and others he didn’t. A healthy dose of French literature as well such as Bonjour Tristesse, Mme Bovary, Les Misérables. It was sprinkled in amongst some Fitzgerald and Salinger, but one particular book caught his eye. This is the one moment he pulls away from you, reaching out to take a closer look at the thick novel nestled gently into your shelf but he stops himself short, fingertips ghosting against the spine of the book the same way his fingertips had been ghosting across your waist just moments prior. “May I?” And with an affirmative nod his nimble fingers grasp the book and tug gently, allowing it to dislodge from its spot. He tenderly places the book in his hands, holding it as gently as he wanted to hold you.

As he flips through the pages, he picks up on little nuances like how you don’t annotate directly inside the book, instead you have little scrap papers that you’ve scribbled over in semi attached cursive writing. Sometimes your writing was neat and legible, print writing, others it was scrawled out, unable to be read by anyone other than that person who had penned it in the first place. His heart swells at this little piece of information, noting that the book was in near perfect condition and that it was in fact a first edition. How you managed to get a first edition of The Lord of the Rings was far beyond him, it was not possible, was it?

“Is something wrong, Eds?” When he turns to you, beckoned by your angelic voice, his pupils are blown and his eyes are searching you over for something that neither of you are sure of. He closes the book delicately, wanting nothing more than to languidly kiss you in this very moment, instead he takes a step closer and bites his lip, opting to place his forehead to yours in a tender moment. “Take it,” you say, his eyes widening in shock, “the book. I can always get myself a new one but this- this looks like it means a lot to you. I- I know what my dad pays his musicians, and I know it’s not enough for luxury, so please take it, it’s yours.” It’s yours rang through his head. It’s yours like your heart was his for the taking too. He holds it tighter to his chest, closing his eyes to savour this moment with you, with his favourite fantasy book, his two favourite escapes. He asks in the intimacy of the situation, repeating the mantra that this is in fact what friends do.

“Darling,” he starts, breath ghosting your lips, tantalizing, inviting even, filling you with a desire of a person possessed. You want to close the gap, desperately so, but it’s not the moment to do so, you don’t know when it would be, if ever. Instead, the two of you opt to dance this line between friends and lovers, staying coworkers was long thrown out the window.

“Eddie,” your breath mixes with his, mingling together to create an intoxicating cloud between you both. His face pushed a hair closer to yours, noses brushing together causing your eyes to flutter shut.

“I-I don’t know if I can accept this.” The illusion shatters and at his words you jerk back, eyes opening wide, slightly glassy from the heightened emotions. “I mean, it’s just so personal, giving a book to someone I mean. That’s like giving a part of yourself over to someone and I,” his breath catches in his throat, I don’t want to take a part of you with me, I want to take all of you with me. His brain screamed at him.

“Eddie, it’s yours if you want it.” I’m yours if you want it, you promise him. “I want you to have it. Look, I’ve read this book over and over, it’s an escape into a new world, and if it helps you escape half as much as it helps me, which it looks like it does, then I want you to have it.” You admit to him openly.

“Darling, I can’t take this from you,” He boldly takes a step into your space once again, “but if you really want me to have it, I will do nothing more than borrow it from you, because what good would I be if I took something so precious from you, keeping it all to myself?” You couldn’t believe his words, offering you a considerate alternative, refusing to take without giving back. You offer him a nod, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. The move isn’t lost on Eddie and so while holding the book tenderly in one hand, he reaches his other to entangle his fingers with your own. “Come on, what say you to another dance?” He asks you.

“I’d love nothing more.”

Glossary:

Having a ball: to enjoy oneself greatly

Bash ears: Talk too much

Wet rag: Someone boring

Fast: someone who is sexually active/someone who quickly allowed dating relationships to become physical

Dolly: a really cute girl

a/n: thank you for bearing with me on this update, she’s long, leaves you yearning, and definitely not proofread because I have ANOTHER sinus infection. But either way, here you are.

Tag list: @ali-r3n @cryingglightningg @honey-eyed-munson @munson-blurbs

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #reader insert #heartbreak #music #1950s #1960s #all for show #afs #musician!eddie x reader #eddiexshowgirl!reader #gn reader

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

garlic

warnings: Eddie Munson x witch!reader, lesbian witch aunts, food, magic au, all of the fluff

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Swinging the door open, you revealed your long-haired boyfriend holding up a small paper bag.

“Ah!” you threw your arms up in delight, “my hero!”

“5 heads of garlic, precisely as requested, sweetheart,” he smiled, as you took the opportunity to give him a tight hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you kissed his cheek. “Aunties!” you called over your shoulder, “we got the garlic!”

Trickling out of the kitchen, you saw both of your apron-clad aunts give Eddie a look as if he had just saved the day.

“Oh, thank Merlin for that!” your tall aunt Rebecca exhaled, “Eddie, come in, come in!”

Following her eager wave, you re-joined them in the messy kitchen, this time with a boy in toe. 

“So,” Eddie stared hesitantly, handing the ingredient off to your aunt Scheherazade's grabby hands, “are you gonna tell me what spell I’m assisting you guys in, or should I guess?”

Being careful to keep a straight face, you hopped up to sit on the marble counter and announced, “oh, we’re going to put a curse on the mailman.” 

“R-really?” he blinked hard, either from amazement or horror. 

Cracking a smile at his stunned expression, “I’m kidding, it’s just for dinner.”

“E'reway akingmay astapay aioliyay!” Scheherazade informed enthusiastically, bending down to scratch your black, purring cat behind the ear. 

Rolling your eyes, you sighed, “could you please cool it on the pig latin?”

“Atwhay? utbay it'syay aturdaysay!”

“I don’t care that it’s Saturday, please communicate in a language that everyone in the room understands.”

“Geez, fine!” she huffed in a dramatic, childlike way, then turned to your boyfriend with narrow eyes, “so, Eddie,” you saw him freeze up a bit, “do you like pasta?”

“Yes…” he answered slowly, fearing what power this information could grant her.

“Would you like to stay for dinner since you so graciously came to the rescue?”

“Yes, ma’am, thank you,” he let his shoulders relax a bit. 

“And please drop the ma’am thing,” she pleaded, as you jumped down from the table and inched closer to Eddie, “I’m not gonna bite you, darling.”

The tight-lipped smile that he flashed her quickly grew genuine as you came up to whisper in his ear, “she won’t, but I will…” 

© 2022 thyme-in-a-bubble 

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