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wutheringcaterpillar · 1 month

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An Act of Violation

Summary: Cillian takes advantage of you during a sex scene on set.

Warnings: Noncon, age gap (reader is 18), sense of grooming, p in v, oral (f receiving), Dark!Cillian, virgin!reader, creampie, trauma inflicted, fingering

This is purely fiction, not in relation to Cillian Murphy or his real life.

After landing your first big role at the ripe age of eighteen, your co star Cillian took you under his wing. Giving you acting lessons, taking an interest in your hobbies, sharing friendly banter. He had learned very quickly that you didn’t come from money, merely gliding by with rent and food, living from pay check to pay check. He took you on several lunches, dinner, acting as if he cared. He was calculated in his plans, earning your trust and friendship, knowing all your secrets. After your mother’s passing, you had no one, completely and utterly alone in this big, scary world.

Thanking the barista, you made your way to the set, nervous about filming your most intimate scene, although you were quite uncomfortable with having your body on display for everyone to see, you knew sex sells and you could trust Cillian to make you comfortable and guide you. After all Peaky Blinders was on the rise to popularity and emotional attachments with their viewers. The pressure to be perfect on camera waited down on you like an anchor, without this role you’d have nothing, you had to be amazing.

Cillian met you at your trailer with the script, going back and forth rehearsing your lines, suggesting motions, and sounds to make a great sex scene. You didn’t really bat an eye at it, thinking he was just being helpful, trying to ensure your comfortability but when you were on set shedding your clothes preparing, your world turned upside down.

“Action!” Going into character, acting as if you were aroused, Cillian’s hand slid seductively over your bare thighs while your breasts hung visibly present.

His thumb trailed down your bottom lip slowly, lips agape and drawn into your features.

The camera focused in on a side view, filming the intensity and chemistry from the lustful gaze, magnifying the power balance Tommy held over your character Addison.

Running your hands down his chest, there was little conversation, just pure desire. This scene was intended to be hot, electric, rough as your characters didn’t get along, it was simply Tommy being his usual self, enforcing a manipulation tactic to Addison into bed with him. She was the enemy’s daughter, and turning to Tommy when he convinced her that her family betrayed her, wanting to sell her off to the highest bidder. As much as she held a profound hatred for Tommy, her need for revenge was stronger.

He angled his head burrowing his temple to the side of your face when in that moment you felt a movement from under the sheet just barely covering your most vulnerale area. This wasn’t scripted, his arms were supposed to stay on either side of your head to show the muscular tone of his shoulders and back.

None of production batted an eye, simply trusting that Cillian was trying to make the scene more intimate, as if he might be warming your character up by fingering her when that wasn’t the case at all.

You were beginning to panic when the protective garment over your vagina was suddenly swiped down onto the mattress.

A wave of panic and fear weighed down on your chest, but what were you to do? This was your first big role, and you needed the money, Cillian knew that.

In a low, hushed tone, you leaned in toward his ear, voicing the concern.

“What are you doing?” Your question was answered when the head of his hardened cock pressed against the entrance of your dry, unwanting hole. When you tried to wiggle your hips up away from him, he simply pressed down with his strong hand, holding you in place.

“Just lay still and act your part. This is important to you isn’t it?” Sliding down beneath the sheet, you were left having to improvise and act as if this was planned. Within seconds Cillian tongue was on your heat, lapping at your folds and inserting a finger in your tight walls. Your hips bucked up from the unexpected violation, but you had to stay in character when you were internally screaming.

Curling your fists in the sheets, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to pretend this wasn’t really happening, reminding yourself you had to keep yourself composed in Addison.

His plump, plush lips sucked at your labia as he entered another finger, drilling into your virgin aching hole relentlessly. From the camera’s perspective all they could see was the bump of his head under the sheets, more focused in on your facial expressions.

The director made a call from behind Cillian, motioning for a closer connection. Wanting Cillian to run his hand lovingly down your cheek, whispering his lines in a lustful, charismatic voice. Your eyes stayed transfixed in his corrupted gaze, hiding the impending fear portruding every part of you.

“After this moment, you’ll be my property. Only belonging to me.” Though the lines were fake, his words struck a nerve. Panic ensued, when one of his hands gripped viciously at your breast, noting the hardened state of your nipples.

“Alright now let the sheet fall down your back and look into her eyes, showing a raw passionate connection before ravishing her lips, not being able to resist her any longer.” Cillian did as he was instructed with his own take, hiding the smirk and building tension.

His cock was throbbing at the sight of your unwanting body beneath him, fully on display for his own personal view.

Clashing his lips against yours, he thrusted forward, penetrating your body with his long, girthy member.

What was meant to come out as a cry for help, came out sounding like a muffled moan from your quivering lips being captivated by him.

You needed this role, you couldn’t do anything to jeopardize this job.

You were stranded, breathing in his mint scent, and his cruel blue eyes embedded in your mind, along with the feeling of your most private area being ripped a part from how dry you were.

Your skin formed goosebumps when his hans grasped at your sides, squeezing them as he pounded you down relentlessly.

“Now Y/N, we need you to be completely enveloped. This scene needs the hatred, the aggression, but also the burning desire and attraction.”

Cillian shoved his tongue down your throat, grinning from ear to ear from the warmth of your walls deciding to take control of the scenario playing out.

He had been resisting you for awhile now, but seeing your nude body beneath him, the delicate untouched features of your skin made him think with his cock, wanting to be selfish for once in his life.

He could feel your insides starting to moisten involuntarily, turning into a rather hot, slippery slope warming his penis with each forceable movement.

You felt humiliated, used, like some inanimate object. Feeling suffocated between the weight of him on top of you, and the mattress folding beneath your battered body. Was this all he wanted?

Put yourself in Addison’s shoes you’d repeat to yourself over and over, as if that somehow justified the situation.

The burning in your downstairs intensified when with one strong thrust, he quietly literally took the air from your lungs, but you were able to form it into a glorious moan that was believable.

“Fuck, Tommy keep- oh keep going.” Sliding your hand up the nape of his warm neck, you held him down closer, trying to deepen the kiss, Addison aching for every piece of him, while you were screaming internally for this to be over.

Rhythmically, along with Cillian, feeling his whole length protrude your once virgin walls painfully, balls deep inside of your sore pussy, it had felt like a shot in the arm, only it wasn’t.

Sitting up, and fixing the sheet, he had you on his lap, wanting to see your enticing, inexperienced body ride him while adjusting the sheets so production couldn’t tell.

The pain slowly turned into pleasure when the head of his cock hit your cervix, grinding, and claiming you as he’d wanted to for so long. Taking your innocence and fragility for his own.

He could feel your heart beat rapidly against his chest, but was pleased to notice that your body was enjoying this, you were feeling pleasure and riding him all on your own.

You hid your face in his neck, biting down aggressively on his shoulder, though the pain you were causing him was nothing toward the humiliation on you felt. As your hips swayed, and the tip of his cock brushed against the sweet spot you didn’t know you had.

An unexplainable, pleasurable feeling washed over your core, toes curling, and back arching from the approaching orgasm.

“Tommy- Tommy I’m going to-“ You felt disgusted, violated, unsafe, how was no one noticing what was happening with all the changes in the script or did they just trust Cillian to that extent.

An unexpected, loud, lustful moan escaped from between your lips as your eyes fluttered shut.

Cumming onto Cillian’s shaft, you crumbled in his arms, falling week as your body convulsed. Wishing you could shield yourself from embarrassment, and shamefulness, not wanting to give the predator the satisfaction of knowing he pleased you.

Why wasn’t he pulling out? In a swift motion while you were still desperately riding out the phenomenal sensation. He layed you back down once more, his balls slapped against your bare ass as he pulsated inside of your deflowered rose, painting your insides white with his seed.

“Cut!” As the crew dispensed in search of a robe for you both, Cillian glanced down at the mess, smirking, knowing he had pushed you over the edge enough that you came for him.

Still avoiding eye contact, your co worker tossed you the robe. You flustered to put the fabric over as a shield, pulling your panties from the nightstand drawer, forcing them up to act as a shield, heading back to your trailer.

Cillian covered the stain sheets with the comforter, knowing production usually didn’t clear a set for hours and were always in too much of a hurry to notice a small little stain.

Rushing into your trailer, you slammed the door shut before falling onto the sofa, wrapping your arms around your legs, curling into a fetal position as you wept. Disgust washing over you as his seed continued to seep out from the notorious sexual assault.

What was supposed to be one of the most memorable acts of your life, something you were to decide when you were ready was taken away from you, yet you still had to act through the pain and abuse. Your skin was crawling, as the walls caved in, thought running wild on if this was really worth it if you were going to be subjected to an object.

Not being able to bare the stench of him any longer, in a fitful rush you shed yourself of your clothes, throwing the soiled panties into your bag to throw out the evidence one you were home.

Before changing, you went into the bathroom to start a shower as if you could cleanse away the damage he’s done, cleanse away the memory of his touch and intrusion, but it didn’t work.

Sitting on the toilet, you awaited for more to come out, the tears rolling more abundantly down your cheeks as you saw his semen sitting blatantly in the water.

At that moment there was a knock on the door and Cillian walked in without waiting for you to answer.

Shuffling and scrambling to put your clothes on, he peared the door open, finding you in a state of panic as you pulled a new pair of panties over your coveted area, trying to hide what he’s already seen.

“I don’t think there’s a need to be all embarrassed Y/N. You did great today, felt great might I add.” Uunable of looking him in the eyes, you turned to face away from him, wiping away the tears on your cheeks, not wanting to seem weak.

He closed in the distance, his chest pressing against your back, as his hand slid inside of the wasteband of your pants agonizingly slowly.

Flinching away from his touch, he simple backed you up against the wall leaving you stuck between the hard surface and his touch.

Your stomach churned, forming knots as tears prickled at your eyes once more when his digits combed over your clit, caressing the deflowered skin, and moaning slightly against your ear, causing you to wince away from his unwanted touch.

“Please stop…” You managed to croak out behind the pain.

But your pleads went unnoticed, moreso ignored as he began to rub circles into your overstimulated, throbbing pussy that was still burning from just moments ago.

“Why are you doing this? You- you didn’t ask or care to know if-“ He silenced your words by shoving his fingers right back up into you, allowing the warm liquid from you both to drown his fingers.

The smell of your sex making him hard once more.

“You know all I’d have to do is speak to production. They trust my judgement in character. If I happen to slip up and say I don’t think your right for the part, they’d have to replace you.” He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, breathing in your sweet scent while his fingers teased at your hole that belonged to him now.

“Is that what you want?”

“No! Please-please I’ll do whatever you want. I need this job desperately.” Ah there it was, he hadn’t expected you to submit so quickly. He chuckled behind your ear, placing a kiss of satisfaction beneath the lobe of your ear, before patting your dripping cunt and removing his hand.

“Atta girl. Knew you were wise. See you tomorrow then, maybe rehearse early on before everyone else arrives. Oh, don’t forget we have one more scene to film, your outfit is on the table., be ready in an hour.” He left biting his lip, turning around and winking at you with a sadistic, egotistical look on his face. You had nowhere to go, no one to turn, most of all no one to believe you.

Collapsing to the floor, you cried relentlessly onto the cold, hard tile, falling to pieces as flashbacks entered your mind of the way he touched you. The way his eyes gleamed with a sick amusement. How could you have been so stupid to believe Cillian was your friend and not noticed all the signs? He ruined your experience of possibly being famous, unable to watch your work on Peaky Blinders ever again without the constant reminder and scene of you losing your virginity.

Pulling yourself up from the floor trying to catch a breath, you did your best to shake off the feeling, clothing yourself for the final scene of the episode that was supposed to be a cliff hanger for the plot of Addison.

The makeup artist noticed your distress, asking if everything was alright to which you just shrugged it off by saying you were reading a script for a future episode and you had become emotional. When she pulled your hair back to remove it out of the way of your face, you unexpectedly flinched from her touch, unprepared for the sudden motion. Questioning you once more, you claimed she had startled you and everything was alright.

When you walked outside to join the crew, the scene before made you nauseated. Seeing Cillian laughing, and chatting with the other actors as if nothing had happened. They were all so oblivious to his charm, and having the advantage of knowing him for so long, they never blinked an eye.

Walking toward the crowd, Cillian glanced your way still laughing and smiling, watching as you stood a good lengths away from him but of course that would draw attention, wouldn’t it? Everyone believed to know how close of “friends” you were, so you made your way closer to his side, ready to act once more, pretending as if everything was okay. He massaged your shoulders, asking if you were okay as if he cared. He just wanted everyone to believe he was a good, caring, hard working man that was willing to help anyone. Taking your position in the alley in the pissing rain, Cillian stood watching your every move from the other end as he waited for his cue to come in. The constant stare was troubling, but once again, no one seemed to notice or think anything of it. Cillian was and always will be more important and a step ahead of you, he would always be the star.

#Cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy imagine #ranaewrites

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tw-inkl-e-tit-s · 2 years

Note

I have a bit of a smut request! Reader moans during sex, but it’s usually little quiet ones. Maybe whimpers here and there. But she’s never loud because she’s insecure of how she sounds and thinks too much into it. Eddie notices and encourages her, or maybe even tries things that make it hard for her to keep quiet so he can hear her pretty moans.

“There you go, pretty girl”

🥹

|Masterlist

A/N: Holy mother of god yessss!! I do this because I'm super insecure about how I sound in situations like these so thank you for requesting this I hope you like it I tried my best!!

He groans loudly, the grasp on your hips tighter than before, nearly bruising. He rocks his hips testingly, listening closely to the small gasps that escape your lips, almost too quiet—he can’t have that, he wants to hear you fall apart so badly. Reaching underneath you his fingers ghost over your puffy clit, rubbing slow circles. Small whimpers fall from your parted lips as Eddie fucks into you from behind. "let out those pretty sounds princess, I wanna hear you." with that and how he was drilling into you while he rubs your swollen clit has you letting out a quiet moan. Eddie needed more though, he wanted you to be vocal, and he needed to know if he was making his girl feel good. all of a sudden his thrust came to a halt and you felt him shuffle off the bed. you were too fucked out to say anything but still let out a whine, your pretty puffy pussy leaking with both eddies and your cum. you clenched around nothing when he pulled out. finally opening your eyes you are met with Eddie standing above you. hard dick on display, leaky red tip swelled from almost being pushed to the edge. he offered you a warm smile to which you returned a more weaker one. he flipped you on your back pulling you to the end of the bed. grabbing your legs he placed them on his shoulders lifting you up. your arms immediately wrapping around his neck.

he held on to your ass with one hand the other grabbed his cock pumping it a few times before lining it up with your entrance, "Eds what are you doing" scared that you were too heavy you tried to wiggle out of his grip to fall back on the bed, but he slapped your ass cheek to get you to stop moving, "Don't worry, gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl" with that he pushed all of his cock in, he smiled to himself when he heard the loud gasp come out of your mouth, he stalled inside of you, throbbing cock buried to the hilt. the new position felt weird- but so fucking good, you felt so full of eddies cock, you could practically feel it in your tummy, with a small tap on his back Eddie began his slow thrust, while still holding you up, his grasp on your ass tightening as he felt his cock pull out and your pussy pull him back in, he quickened his movement, small moans began to make there way out of your mouth, he was pleased with himself. learning a new position from all the porno mags to tapes that he would steal from the local family video- which he did because from the other times you guys fucked he thought he wasn't making you feel good, so he wanted to educate himself on how to pleasure you right. but when he found out the real reason he felt relived, you were too shy to make noises- scared that he would think they sounded bad and leave you mid fuck- but he assured you he wouldn't and that's how both ended up here- your nails scratching down Eddies back as he fucked up into you, his hands gripping your ass as he pulled you up and down his cock, you felt like a human fleshlight the way he was using you. loud Moans and screams filled the tiny trailer- the neighbors defiantly know what's going down. all feelings of insecurity and shyness completely forgot about at this point. "There you go, pretty girl" he grins as he watches you fall apart on his cock.

"feel so good doesn't it" you wanted to answer you really did, but the way you could feel him pounding into your cervix and the way his hand sneakily slipped between you both to rub your clit- had you so fucked out all you could do was moan out an "Uh huh" you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten along with the strong feeling of needing to pee. "Eddie, baby I have to pee" you tried to warn him, but he just smirked wickedly. he knew you didn't need to pee, he knew what it was, he could feel it. he could feel your gummy walls pulsing around him. "No, you don't pretty girl, trust me" wanting to fight back you couldn't, the knot snapping in your stomach, you heard it before you felt it, a wet sloshing sound. a wave of pleasure took over your whole body, eyes rolling into the back of your skull, little white dots clouded your vision, ears ringing. you let out a scream- it was music to Eddie's ears, you felt embarrassed at the mess you created- but from Eddie's view- holy shit it was breathtaking- literally, all the air had been knocked out of Eddie's lungs as he buried himself deep inside you filling you up with his hot ropes of cum. "oh fuck, yeah, milk my cock, babydoll" his head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, hair sticking to his sweaty face as he let out a low growl. once you both came down from what felt like heaven, he pulled out of you- still holding you up he looked down once he was fully out, watching as a mixture of yours and his cum spilled out of your wet cunt onto the carpet. not only did he get to hear your heavenly moan, but he also got to make you squirt. yeah, he is defiantly fucking you like this again.

...

Eddie Munson Taglist 🖤: @yearwalker96 @milfvibesonly @thefreakofhawkins86 @slyisbehindyou @littlestarfighter03 @ethen-often @luumunson @shinsouscatpisssmell @ahswhore0

@3rriberri @eddiesbunnie @mavex @cyberfaii @beebslebobs

@groupies-do-it-better @ilov3lanadelrayy @pretty-npeach @waitlalice @fanficslutxwpp @nerdypartytrashpsychic @littlered6307 @pettydonuts @babeyglo @delilah2853 @sweetoltitties-86 @luumunson @e0509

@honey-flustered @yandere-nctsstuff @wh0reforeddie @caitlin333 @sxfemilf @choco-aj @mermemerald @tommyriddleobsessed

@sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @frogers @sxfemilf @drawessa

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson masterlist #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader smut #reader x eddie munson #eddie munson x plus size reader #stranger things season 4 #stranger things season four

6K notes · View notes

ashwhowrites · 8 months

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I got an angsty request for you! Eddie and Best Friend Reader who secretly have feelings for each other, but Eddie starts to be a bit distant after his deal with Chrissy because he's hanging out with her a bit so reader gets bummed out but Friday at their regular movie night, they end up having sex. I'm talking that sweet, been wanting to do this forever sex and the snuggle afterwards. Eddie even drives her to work the next day. After some convincing from Steve and Robin, she decides she's going to tell Eddie how she feels so she gets them to drive her back to Eddie's trailer only to walk in on him having sex with Chrissy on the couch. She rushes out of there to catch Steve at the stop sign, while Eddie is trying to yell for her. Maybe Eddie tries to explain but she's not having it because she's hurt. You can choose how it ends just whatever you do make him grovel.

Angst? You came to the right person. I hope this is what you were looking for :) thank you for requesting

⚠️no happy ending

Ex friends

Y/N has been in love with her best friend, Eddie, since middle school. Back when he had a buzzcut and played air guitar as a hobby. She grew up with him and watched him grow up to become this pretty boy with long hair and guitar skills that made all girls weak. She knew Eddie like the back of her hand but could never place his feelings for her. It was the one thing about him she could not understand.

Not many people liked Eddie, she never had to fight for his attention. But lately, he has been meeting with the most popular girl in school. Y/N grew insecure quickly and drowned in her own jealousy. Eddie became distant with her, and she didn't know how to handle that. But Friday nights were the one night he was all hers. They had movie nights, and it was a rule that no one else was invited.

The movie played, and the sounds of screaming filled the silence. Y/N felt thrown off because of Chrissy and didn't know what to say. It almost felt like Eddie didn't know what to say either. Both felt the distance, and neither knew how to deal with it.

"Are you okay? You seem quiet." Eddie asked, pausing the movie as he looked at her.

"Yeah, just quiet today." She shrugged. She did not want to tell her best friend about how jealous she was. Some things Eddie did not need to know.

"You're never quiet with me. Talk to me, sweets." She melted at the name. Her body fell into him when he cuddled next to her and placed her head on his shoulder.

"I miss you, Eddie." She admitted, closing her eyes. Eddie was confused, laughing softly. "I am right here, silly."

"I know, but lately you've been busy with Chrissy. I miss having you around." She confessed. She worried that she would sound stupid but, Eddie held her closer.

"I've missed you too." He said, kissing her forehead as he rested his head on top of hers. She moved her head, turning to look at him. His head moved at her movement, looking down at her.

"Really?" she asked. He smiled and nodded his head. Leaning down to peck her nose. She smiled at the affection, closing her eyes. Eddie wasn't sure what came over him. But he felt this magnetic pull towards her lips. He's always had an attraction towards her. He knew he liked her, but he also felt something with Chrissy.

But looking at her soft face resting against him, he couldn't stop the thoughts. He leaned down, closing his eyes as he connected his lips to hers. She was shocked when she felt his lips. She opened her eyes to confirm that he was kissing her.

She closed her eyes and kissed him back. His hands held her hips as he moved her on his lap. She moaned in the kiss as she straddled his lap. Her mind was racing. She was making out with her best friend. Her tongue was exploring Eddie's mouth. His hands burned through her skin. Was this happening?

He pulled away, his eyes blown out with lust as he stared at her. She tried to catch her breath as she looked at him. Neither spoke, and neither made any effort to stop. His hands slipped under her shirt, yanking it over her head. His mouth latched onto her chest. Destroying the soft skin with his teeth. Her hands worked on his belt, he took the hint and lifted his hips. He removed his mouth from her, tugging down his jeans and boxers, kicking them off. She stood up as she removed the rest of her clothes.

He watched from his spot on the couch as she stripped. Her skin glowing and the red marks forming on her chest. His stomach was doing flips seeing her like this.

She crawled back on his lap, his hard cock resting between her thighs. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she lowered herself on him. Eddie moaned as he felt her sucking him in. She hissed as she settled on him. Moving her hips as she slowly began to ride him. Taking her time to get used to his size.

Her lips attached to his neck, creating her own marks as he helped her hips roll against him.

She felt amazing clenching around him, he loved how she leaned back and bounced on him. Her chest was in his face as he tried to focus on fucking back into her. Lifting his hips to smack deeper inside of her. He loved all the sounds that left her mouth.

He wrapped his arms around her, turning them around so her back was on the couch. He balanced on his knees as he fucked into her. The new angle allowed him to push deeper inside of her.

"Fuck, you feel so good." She moaned, her hands reaching to feel him. He leaned down, connecting their lips. His left hand met hers, holding it tightly as his right hand moved down to her clit.

She gripped the hand that was holding hers, clenching her walls around his cock as she got close. His fingers knew exactly what to do on her clit and she was seeing stars.

"Always wanted this," Eddie confessed against her lips. The words hit her lips in a puff of air. His words washed over her and made her feel warm everywhere.

"Wanted this too." She admitted, smiling as he smiled down at her. Their smiles meet in another kiss.

"Close? Gonna cum for me, baby?" He encouraged. His lips were soft as he pecked her between the words. His hand still holding hers, the other rubbing her clit as fast as he could. She felt like a work of art under his gaze. The way he watched her with adoration and love.

"Cum with me." She pleaded, using her free hand to scratch the back of his neck. "Cum in me, Eddie."

Eddie's head was spinning. "Fuck, you are beautiful," he moaned. His forehead rested on hers as he got close. Their eyes stared into each other. Their hands gripped each other's.

The closeness they both craved was found. The distance vanished as she milked him. She came on him with a silent scream, his cum filling her as he bit her shoulder. His curly hair covered her face as she drowned in him.

He slid out of her slowly, hissing as the cold air hit his sensitive cock. He was fast to grab the blanket that was thrown over the couch. Covering their naked bodies as he cuddled into her neck. She smiled as the warmth of him covered her skin.

He rubbed her skin softly, luring her to sleep as he kissed her neck one last time.

~~~

When she woke up, she had a small fear of what would happen. But as she slowly stirred awake, she felt Eddie's fingers rubbing the inside of her thighs. She moaned quietly at the soft touch. Gasping as he slid his fingers inside of her.

"Morning, sweetheart." He said into her ear, She shivered at the rough sound of his morning voice.

"Morning," she gasped, his fingers working inside of her skillfully. Her back was against his chest, somehow moving as the night went on.

"Need a ride to work?" He hummed in her ear, she wasn't sure how he could easily have a conversation as he fingered her. She choked out a yes.

"Better cum before you're late."

~~~

"He's dropping her off, that's a good sign," Steve observed as Y/N made her way out of Eddie's van.

"Still in yesterday's clothes. She spent the night, another good sign." Robin added.

Y/N walked into work with a wide smile on her face, and a small ache between her thighs as she walked up to the counter. Both her best friends stood there with a smile.

"Everything looks like it went well! Did you talk it out?" Steve asked, he knew Y/N was struggling with the Chrissy situation. Y/N vowed to both her friends, to talk it out with him at movie night.

"Um, we talked a little," Y/N said honestly, scratching her head as she blushed to the floor.

"Okay? But you worked things out?' Robin asked, a confused look on her face as she tried to read Y/N's body language.

"We had sex," Y/N whispered.

"YOU HAD SEX?" Steve shouted, Y/N looked mortified as she stared at Steve.

"Shut your mouth, dingus! We have customers." Robin scolded, trying to politely smile at the elderly couple that was glaring.

"So are you together?" Steve asked, this time keeping his voice low.

"I'm not sure? I mean we didn't really talk about it this morning." Y/N said.

"You woke up, didn't talk and he drove you here?" Robin questioned, digging for something else.

"Um, well. He kinda fingered me this morning so my mind was blah by the time I was in the car." Y/N added, embarrassed as she chewed on her nails.

"Okay well, congratulations on getting laid by the love of your life," Robin started, "but you need to confess how you feel."

"I mean we had sex! Doesn't that say something?" Y/N tried but Steve gave her a dad look.

"Nope. That doesn't tell us anything. You have to know where his mind was during it and how he feels now. Make sure there's more than just sexual feelings there." Steve explained. Robin nodded with him.

"I agree with Steve, which is strange," Robin said

~~~

Y/N took a deep breath as she got out of Steve's car. He smiled and gave her a thumbs-up as she walked to the door. She watched as he drove off, She found herself at Eddie's trailer because Steve refused to bring her home until she talked to Eddie.

She was terrified but she tried to remember it was just Eddie. She's seen him puke on himself and he has seen her fall drunkenly into a pool. They'd seen each other at their worst, this was her best friend. She can tell him anything.

She took the key from her purse and unlocked the door. She didn't have time to remove the key from the door when she saw them.

Chrissy was on her knees, face on the couch as Eddie fucked her from behind. His eyes closed as his arms wrapped around her. Y/N felt sick as she watched them, not sure why she was torturing herself for so long. Not even five hours ago, she woke up on that couch next to him. And now he's fucking Chrissy on it.

Chrissy was the first to notice her, immediately screaming as she removed herself from Eddie, hiding her body under the blanket. Y/N panicked and ran. Ran right out the door, praying Steve didn't make it far.

"SHIT, SHIT" Eddie screamed, throwing on his boxers as he raced out the door right behind her. Chrissy sat on the couch, embarrassed from being walked in on, but confused by Eddie's anxious reaction.

Eddie cussed to himself as every twig in the grass stabbed his bare feet, but he continued to run.

"Y/N WAIT! PLEASE!" He screamed, seeing her figure in the distance in front of him.

She sighed in relief as she spotted Steve's car at the entrance of the trailer park. Pounding on his window, watching as he screamed.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" He screamed, unlocking the door as she rushed in. She was panting as she locked the door. He looked at her but she didn't say a word. Her face was soaked with tears, she was breathing heavily from the running, and motioning for him to drive.

"Please" she whispered, but before he could pull off, Eddie ran in front of the car.

"Baby, I am so sorry. Let's talk please." Eddie pleaded, Steve looked between the two confused. Y/N refused to look at either of them. Her eyes locked on her feet.

"Drive," she demanded

"I can't! He's in front of my car." Steve said in a duh tone. Y/N reached over and slammed on the horn, Eddie covered his ears but refused to move.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY!" She screamed

"NOT UNTIL WE TALK," Eddie screamed back, his voice muffled by the glass.

"Why don't you want to talk to him?" Steve asked, she looked at him. Her eyes were red and wet as she choked out, "he was fucking Chrissy."

Steve felt any amount of calmness in him vanish. He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. Locking it so Eddie couldn't get in if he tried.

Steve stayed emotionless, waving Eddie over to him.

Eddie walked over, his eyes looking into the car as he watched her. "She won't come out, but she wanted me to tell you this," Steve started, Eddie nodded. "Yeah, go on." He encouraged and prepared to listen so he could fix this.

"Yeah just..," Steve said then bunched up his fist and knocked Eddie straight in the jaw. Y/N screamed from inside the car. Eddie groaned as he got knocked to the floor.

"Son of a bitch." Eddie groaned, holding his cheek as he felt the heat of the punch forming.

"Have Chrissy ice your jaw." Steve snarled out, getting back in his car as he zoomed off.

~~~

Eddie called and called. He left voicemails, he wrote letters, and he even showed up at her house for a week straight. But she refused to speak to him. He hated that he couldn't even explain to her what happened, because he didn't know himself. He hurt her and he had no explanation other than he was an idiot who fucked everything up.

His jaw was bruised, but his heart hurt more than anything.

But she was hurt too, and it hurt not knowing why Eddie did what he did. She wasn't sure if she could handle hearing what Chrissy had that she didn't.

He regretted Chrissy more than anything.

She regretted Eddie more than anything.

tags!

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

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson smut x female reader #ashwhowrites

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dixons-sunshine · 2 months

Note

Soooo I just read your Shopping Spree fic with young Daryl- and ohmygosh it is one of the BEST fics about young Daryl I've read!!

Your writing is absolutely incredible!!

I'm not sure how busy you are, and don't feel forced to do this pls I really just got on here to thank you, but perhaps a part 2?

Seriously, thank you for the amazing writing :D

Make sure you drink water- and don't skip sleeping for writing!!

Dyeing For The Haircut | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Part two to Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams, but can be read as a standalone.

Summary: After months of watching you practice haircutting- and hair dyeing techniques on multiple people around the trailer park, Daryl's curiosity lead him to ask you for one of your "magical" hair transformations—hair dye and everything. His request turned out to be one of the best decisions ever when you gave him the best, most loving hairstyling experience of his life, as well as some kisses inbetween.

Genre: Fluff, some angst if you squint (mentions of Daryl's dad.)

Era: Pre outbreak

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to money problems, sexual content but nothing major, Daryl is low-key a thigh guy in this, reader's mom is implied to be a single parent.

Word count: 2.7k

A/n: Thank you so much for the request lovely. And thank you so much for your kind words! When I saw your ask in my inbox, I legitimately teared up at the compliments you gave me about my writing. Writing is something that I do to pass the time and I never thought that people would actually like it, so reading that really made me feel like I was on cloud nine. And that you think that my little story about young!Daryl was one of the best you've read? I can't even begin to explain how honoured that makes me feel 😭. I've read a few young!Daryl fics worthy of being actual novels, so that is the best compliment I've ever gotten in my life. I hope that this is an okay attempt at a part two. It's kinda random but since there weren't any specific requirements I had to meet, I went with my gut. I hope you like it! If you specifically wanted a part two with the reader's mom confronting her and Daryl after catching them making out, let me know! (btw, the same goes for you. Stay hydrated and rested, lovely ❤️)

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests.

—

“Are you sure? I might make a mistake, you know.”

“I know, but I gotta know wha' everyone's ravin' 'bout. Besides, my hair's gettin' too long fer my old man's standards. I'm one growin' hair strand away from bein' told my hair is too long to be considered manly.”

You shook your head at your boyfriend with a small laugh and motioned for him to follow you into your trailer. Once inside, you headed into the bathroom to retrieve the pair of scissors you've used for cutting hair multiple times over the past few months, as well as a towel, a comb and a hand mirror. Satisfied with the items in your possession, you walked back into the living room and saw Daryl seated on a wooden chair, his legs crossed as he read the back of a box of hair dye he bought earlier that day, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips.

At the sound of your approaching footsteps, Daryl lifted his gaze from the box to you, a boyish smile gracing his face as his eyes followed your movements. You placed the items in your hands down on the ground next to him and motioned for him to give you the hair dye, to which he complied.

“Are you sure you wanna dye your hair? Once I do it, there's no turning back,” you asked for the hundredth time since your boyfriend had asked you to do his hair, uncertainty clear in your voice.

Sensing your hesitance, Daryl gently grabbed your hips and tugged you over to him, bringing you to sit in his lap. You straddled him and wrapped your hands around his neck, watching him take the final drag from his cigarette and turn his head to blow the smoke away from you. He leaned down to put it out in the ashtray on the ground and then turned his attention back to you, bringing his hand back to rest on your hip.

“'M sure,” he finally responded, running his hands down your body to rest on your things. “I've been wantin' to go brunette fer a while now. Jus' never had the money to go to a salon and I dun' have the balls to try and dye it myself. I trust ya. Yer gonna be fine. 'S jus' me.”

You nodded and gave him a smile. You leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before withdrawing. “You're amazing, you know that?”

Daryl scoffed and ducked his head, the tips of his ears reddening, a telltale sign that he was blushing. “Nah,” he denied, shaking his head. “'M not. Yer the amazin' one. Ya make me want to be a better person.”

“Aww,” you gushed, using one of your hands to gently cup his cheek, Daryl subconsciously leaning into your touch. “Careful, Dar, or I might start to believe that you actually care about me.”

Daryl rolled his eyes. “Nah, I actually despise ya. I jus' keep ya 'round 'cause ya kiss real damn good,” he joked, a teasing smirk on his face.

You let out a mock offended gasp and playfully shoved his chest, making Daryl laugh fully, a rare sound that you cherished whenever you heard it. You laughed with him and leaned forward to lay your head on his shoulder, your body wracking with laughter. You could feel Daryl's arms move from your thighs to wrap around you, bringing you into a loving hug.

“'M jus' jokin'. I do care 'bout ya,” Daryl whispered into your hair, his chin resting on top of your head.

“I know. And I lo- care about you, too,” you replied, pressing a feathery light kiss to the exposed skin on his shoulder, eliciting a small hum of satisfaction from him.

The clearing of someone's throat caught your attention, and you hastily got off of your boyfriend's lap, turning to face your mom, who looked at you with a small smirk on her face.

“I'm leaving for work,” she started, her eyes trailing between you and Daryl. “I'll be back around midnight. Just thought I'd say goodbye to my daughter before I left.”

You could feel heat flushing on your face. You hastily nodded at your mom. “Okay, bye Mom. I love you.”

“Love you too,” she responded, before turning her attention to Daryl. “Bye, Daryl.”

“Bye, ma'am,” Daryl bid quietly, refusing to meet your mother's intense gaze.

“By the way,” your mother started, grabbing her jacket that was draped over the couch. “This isn't a Mary and Joseph situation. I'm not gonna believe that my daughter magically got knocked up. Anything happens, use protection. There should be a box of condoms in the bathroom.”

“Goodbye, Mom!” you exclaimed in embarrassment, hurriedly pushing your laughing mother out the door and shutting it. You turned to Daryl and saw his bright red face, his eyes shut in embarrassment.

“Sorry about her,” you apologized, moving over to grab the scissors and towel. “She has no filter when it comes to embarrassing her daughter, apparently.”

“S'fine,” he said, straightening his back. “Compared to wha' she told us the first time she walked in on us all those months ago, I'd say this was alrigh'. It was pretty tame.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, recalling the embarrassing memory from the first time you and Daryl kissed and confessed your feelings. “After you went home the next day, she gave me so much shit and so much unneeded advice on safe sex and all that lovely stuff.”

“Sorry I got ya into trouble.”

“It's fine. My mom walking in that day was awkward as fuck, but I wouldn't change anything. Things changed for the better that day,” you replied, shaking the towel out.

“Damn straight,” he agreed, eyeing your movements. “Ya gonna cut my hair now?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, draping the towel across his shoulders.

“Wha's the towel fer?” he questioned, accepting the handheld mirror you offered him.

“To try to prevent any hair from falling on your clothes. Hairstylists use these cape things, but the towel will have to do for now,” you explained, using a hair clip to clip the towel together, keeping it in place around his shoulders, before moving to get the hair dye ready for use when you needed it.

“Ya do the same thing with the others?” he asked, watching as you finished mixing the contents of the hair dye together in a disposable container before grabbing the comb and scissors, moving to stand behind him.

“Yeah. Basically everything I do right now while cutting and dyeing your hair, I do with everyone. Except, of course, for charging you. The others have to pay me.”

“How much do ya charge 'em?”

“Depends on what I have to do,” you started, softly combing his hair, smiling at the small shiver you felt go up his back at your gentle movements. “And it also depends on how well-off they are. For instance, I wouldn't charge Mrs Hathaway as much as I charge Mr Langdon.”

“'Course not,” Daryl agreed. “Mrs Hathaway is a pensioner. She dun' make nearly as much as Langdon does. Guy's an accountant. Only reason he even lives in this shitty trailer park is 'cause he's a fuckin' cheapskate and dun' wanna give his girl a better life.”

You smiled at your boyfriend. “Yeah, Mr Langdon is a dick. But he pays okay, though. Even tips me from time to time.”

“Ya do know tha' the only reason he pays you tha' good is 'cause—”

“He has a thing for me,” you cut him off, bringing the scissors up to his hair to start cutting it. “Yeah, I know. That's why I bring pepper spray with me whenever I go over to his trailer. If he tries something, his eyes are gonna burn like five hells.”

Daryl chuckled. “Smart girl,” he complimented you, earning a small giggle from you in return.

“Thanks,” you thanked him bashfully, continuing to snip at his hair with the scissors.

After a few more minutes of cutting and measuring to ensure that his hair was at an even length, you softly tapped his shoulder to signify that you were done. He held the mirror up to his face and examined his new haircut, humming in approval.

“Good job,” he complimented, lowering the mirror before turning his head to look at you. “My hair's still longer than my usual cut, though.”

“I know,” you acknowledged, nodding your head. “I know we have to keep your hair on the short side so that your father doesn't get mad, but I like your longer hair. It compliments your features more. Besides, I remembered you mentioning that you've been wanting to grow your hair out but he won't let you, so I only trimmed it to the point where your father won't get pissed over how long it is.”

Daryl looked at you, awestruck. “Thanks. It looks good.”

He vaguely remembered mentioning that he wanted longer hair, but it was a small thing that he didn't think you'd remember. So hearing you say that made him adore you even more, made him fall in love with you even more. Those three important words—I love you—almost fell from his lips at that moment, but he quickly caught himself. He was scared to admit that he loved you out loud, scared that if he did, the universe would somehow take you away from him. No, he couldn't let that happen.

You locked eyes with him for a moment before setting the scissors aside, moving to grab a pair of disposable plastic gloves and the container holding the hair dye. With the container in hand, you turned to Daryl and adjusted his head so that he was looking forward again, before going to work on dyeing his hair.

The entire process of applying the colour changing paste was spent in silence. You were silent because you were focused on the task at hand, and Daryl was silent because he was focused on the bliss your hands in his hair was giving him. His eyes were shut as your hands moved through his hair in gentle movements, all of his racing thoughts fading away.

Once the task was complete, you put the container aside and moved to the garbage can, throwing the gloves away. You turned to Daryl and saw him watching you, and you gave him a small smile that he easily returned.

“Now wha'?” he asked, standing up and stretching, his back cracking after sitting for so long.

“Now we wait for half an hour before we wash your hair and apply the conditioner to keep the colour in your hair.”

“So we got half an hour fer some fun?” Daryl asked suggestively, a small smirk on his face. He walked over to you and brought you into his arms, his hands going to rest on your hips.

You giggled and took his hands from your hips, entwining your fingers. “Slow down, Romeo. We're not doing anything until that dye is washed off. I don't want to stain everything.”

“Worth a shot,” Daryl replied playfully, earning a small, playful shove in return.

He laughed before pulling you back into him, leaning down to give you a slow, hungry kiss. You wrapped your arms around his midsection and returned the kiss, kissing him back deeply. After what felt like an eternity and only a few seconds at the same time, you pulled back with a breathless giggle.

“You wanna watch a movie while we wait to wash your hair?”

“Sure,” Daryl agreed, untangling himself from you and allowing himself to be pulled over to the couch. He sat down and watched you grab a random movie from the limited supply before doing the small task of getting it into the player and pressing play.

After the opening credits successfully started playing on your crappy television, you moved over to the couch and sat down next to Daryl. Instead of resting your head on his shoulder like you normally would due to the dye in his hair, you rested your head against the back of the couch. Daryl moved one of his hands to lightly grip your thigh, keeping it their for the remaining 25 minutes.

After the time passed, you paused the movie and got up, extending a hand to Daryl. He took it and followed you into the small bathroom, following your instructions and sank to his knees, leaning his head over the tub. You then gently started washing the dye off his hair, making sure to be careful and not get any water in his eyes.

In no time at all, you were done. Daryl was towel drying his hair, looking into the mirror in the bathroom with an impressed look on his face.

“I'll be damned,” he hummed in approval, looking at you in adoration. “It looks good. Ya should consider openin' yer own salon or somethin'.”

You smiled shyly. “I'm glad you like it.”

“Everyone was speakin' the truth. Ya truly are a magician when it comes to hair. I dun' think my hair's ever been cut this good, and the dye job looks like it was done by a professional. Ya really did good.”

“You don't regret dyeing your hair?” you asked curiously, moving to embrace him from behind as he continued drying his hair.

“I wasn't sure if it was a good idea at first, but I like the way it looks. I dun' know if dyein' my hair will be a regular thing, but I dun' regret dyein' it now,” he admitted, casting the towel aside and turning around. He moved his arms around you and brought you into a hug, resting his chin on top of your head.

“You look good. I might have to start fighting off the ladies soon. Everyone's gonna want a piece of you now,” you said playfully.

“Nah,” Daryl chuckled. “I doubt tha', but if they do, I'll be tellin' them all about my beautiful girl.”

You smiled and withdrew from his hold. You looked at the small window and saw the sun setting, a few stars already appearing in the sky. “Do you wanna stay over?”

Daryl hesitated for a moment but nodded. “Ya sure? I can go home if ya want.”

You laughed lightly, a sense of deja vu flooding you. That was the same response he gave you all those months ago. “No, I want you to stay over. It's been a while since you've stayed over, anyways.”

“Alrigh', if yer sure,” he relented.

“Come on, we've got a movie to finish.”

Together, the two of you walked back to the living room. You sat down on the couch and pressed play on the movie you were watching, the sound flooding the trailer. Daryl sat down next to you, but instead of focusing on the movie, his eyes remained fixated on you.

Feeling his gaze on you, you turned to him. “Is something wrong?”

“Nah, 'm jus' wonderin' how I got so lucky with someone as amazin' as ya,” he confessed.

You smiled lovingly at him. “By being amazing yourself.”

You moved your hand up to his face and cupped his cheek. Daryl turned his head and kissed your palm, before moving his feathery light kisses to your wrist. After placing one final kiss on your wrist, he pulled you into his arms and cuddled up to you. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. You focused back on the movie, but your attention shifted back to him when he muttered three words into your hair.

“I love ya.”

You smiled up at him, your heart beating faster at his confession. You placed a tender, loving kiss on his lips before resting your head back on his chest.

“I love you, too.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

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webslinger-holland · 2 years

Text

Hot Wired | Eddie Munson

Summary: While trying to hot wire the van, Eddie seems to having a little trouble. The reader doesn’t hesitate to step in to help him.

Warning: sexual tension

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Type: Oneshot

Part Two Here

To conceal his identity to the world, Eddie Munson wore a terrifying Michael Myers mask. He poked his head from around the corner of the trailer park.

When the coast was clear, Eddie raised his hand to motion for the whole group to follow him. They cautiously made their way to one of the vans, searching for hidden entry.

Immediately, Eddie slid open one of the small windows near the back of the van. He proceeded to hoist himself up into the window. He landed on the couch and quickly moved into a sitting position.

He ripped off the mask covering his face and claimed that it was suffocating to breathe in. He began to move towards the front of the van while the others climbed through the window. He quickly locked the front door.

Then Eddie plopped down into the driver’s seat. He pulled a pair of pliers out of his bag. He quickly ripped the wires from underneath the wheel out before searching through them for the right one.

Unbeknownst to Eddie, Steve had come to stand behind him and hovered over his shoulder.

“Where’d you learn how to do this?“ Steve questioned.

“While the other dads were teaching their sons how to fish or play ball, my old man was teaching me how to hot wire,” Eddie explained.

In the background, Y/N had come to stand behind the two boys as well. She watched him carefully rifle through the wires, desperately searching for a few of them. She saw him cut through a wire using the pliers.

“Now I swore to myself I wouldn’t wind up like he did. But now, I’m wanted to murder and soon…grand theft auto. So I’m really living up to that Munson name,” Eddie laughed nervously.

“Uh Eddie,” Robin interrupted. “I’m not sure if I love the idea of you driving.”

“Oh I’m starting this sucker,” Eddie said. “Harrington’s got her. Don’t ya, but boy?” Eddie teased.

For a couple seconds, it seemed like he was struggling to find the right wire. It could have been that he felt rushed or the pressure of being watched by others.

All of the sudden, the couple who owned the van began knocking on the door violently. They began yelling profanities, demanding that those peaty kids get out of their home.

“Munson,” Steve began. “Now would be a good time to get her started.”

“I’m trying to,” Eddie yelled in response.

“Oh! For crying out loud,” Y/N exclaimed.

As if on cue, Y/N roughly grabbed onto Eddie’s shoulder. She forced him to lean back in the driver’s seat. Then Y/N slipped into his lap. She leaned forward to look at the wires.

Instantly, Eddie tensed up at the feeling of someone sitting on his lap. He couldn’t help but place his hands on her hips to steady her movements. He held back a groan upon feeling himself growing harder.

Now Eddie was curious and quite intrigued by Y/N’s hidden talent of hot wiring cars. He found himself leaning forward to peek over her shoulder in order to watch her work.

As the couple beat loudly on the windows and threatened to call the cops, Y/N held two wires together in hopes that the electricity would spark between them.

Within a few short seconds, the engine of the van sputtered to life. A huge cloud of grey smoke streamed out of the muffler.

In that moment, Y/N jumped to her feet and spun around in her place. She grabbed a fistful of Eddie’s white hellfire shirt, hauling him to his feet.

All the while, Steve had climbed into the driver’s seat and began driving the van away.

In the meantime, Y/N did not halt her efforts. She led him towards the back of the van, forcing him to walk backwards as she walked in front of him.

He was quite taken away by her roughness, especially when she forced him down onto the couch.

“Sit down,” Y/N demanded. “And stay down.”

“Yes ma’am,” Eddie squeaked.

He was gazing up at her with an awestruck look on his face. His big brown eyes shown so much admiration for her. She seemed to ignore his look and began to walk back towards the front of the van.

Naturally, Eddie’s gaze seemed to follow her figure. He looked down at himself to see a very evident tent in his pants. He quickly grabbed the pillow next to him on the couch and placed it in his lap to cover himself.

He ran his hand through his long sweaty locks of curly hair. He leaned his head against the backside of the couch. He felt completely lost in his feelings. He was totally hot wired for her.

I wanted to do something a little different for this story. I’ve never written for Eddie Munson, but I couldn’t get this oneshot out of my head. Hope you guys like it!

PART TWO HERE

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie Munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things vol 2 spoilers #stranger things vol 2 #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine

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blurblicalscripture · 2 years

Text

just feel

warnings/smut! oral fem!receiving, little bit of fluff and angst, mentions of antidepressants (not me projecting again oop)

pairing/ eddiemunsonxfem!reader, friends to lovers

summary/ y/n cant orgasm because of her medication—Eddie wants to change that

"No, Eddie, I can't." You huff, crossing your arms over your chest and pushing back into the sofa cushions. For a trailer, the furniture is quite comfy; it smells like him.

How did you end up here? Your hands came to your cheeks. They were hot.

"Have you ever managed to?" His voice is slow, measured, an enormous effort in restraining his curiosity in favour of your comfort.

"Sometimes." Your eyes cast down to where you pick at your nails. "On my own, though."

"Ah," he seems to ponder, "on your own."

"Yup." You blow air through closed lips. It tickles a little. Eddie shuffles closer.

"Look, y/n, I don't wanna be weird or anything, but I could try to," he asks. "If you want."

Where did that come from?

You're scared, now. Scared that it won't work. Scared that it will and something will shift between you. Scared that something already has.

He senses your apprehension. "Shit, I'm so sorry. Forget I said anything. How about we watch that new vid-"

"No, Ed's, I- I do want to but I just..."

His hands find yours, his palms warm, his fingers gentle. You relax a little.

"Hey." His eyes are soft. "You can tell me."

He rubs his hands up your forearms, back down again, hypnotising.

"I don't want you to be disappointed if I can't...you know." You flip your hands, holding his steady. "It's just those stupid meds I'm on..."

"I could never be disappointed in you." His voice is sure, steadying.

"You wanna just try and see how it feels, that's fine. If you don't want to do anything, that's more than okay too." He smiles sweetly. Your chest aches.

You nod. The clatter of his rings on the coffee table is deafening.

And that's how you find yourself here.

Your chest is now heaving, fingers wound through Eddie's curls; the other hand holding his tightly.

"C'mon, sweet girl," he coaxes, painting his words with his actions as he curls his fingers up and up and up. Your gasps are wet, every other breath a hiccuped sound. His tongue soothes over your clit and it has you keening.

"I can't, Ed's," you whine. He shushes you gently, bringing his thumb to press on your clit, replacing his tongue for a second. The sound you make gets him even harder than he already is. "See," he says with a smirk, "you can."

"Eddie I don't – I can't do-" He squeezes your hand three times. "Sh, sh, sh. It's okay. Just feel. It's nice isn't it?"

Your "mhmm" is high in the back of your throat. He groans.

He shuffles up the bed, his hand still playing with you, and he cannot help the overwhelming fondness that takes over when he sees your face—adorably creased, like you can't believe what's happening but you don't want it to stop.

He looks at your lips. "Can I?"

You lean into him so quick that it makes him laugh against you, and so you smile too. Your noses smush together.

"Hold on sweet girl," he chuckles, "I can't kiss you properly if you're smiling like that." You go to respond with something cheeky but he moves his fingers a little deeper, intentionally, and cuts you off.

"Fuck, y/n, you're so warm. So wet for me."

You whine again. Instead he begins kissing your neck, lazily sucking a dark mark into the skin below your ear. You suck in a deep breath, remember what he said. Just feel.

You're warm and wet and everything feels so good, the drag of his fingers against your walls is mind numbing. Eddie's little grunts and groans when you make sounds are absolutely sickening. You want to make him make more.

At the thought of this you're gasping, hips bucking gently into his hand. "Eddie, I think I'm gonna-" Your eyes clamp shut. He helps you, deepening or slowing his movements as you need, matching the pace of your hips.

"Theeeere we go, that's it," he coos, "good fucking girl."

"Oh my God, Eddie, fuck I- Ah!" Your legs start to shake as it comes over you, feeling it deep in your core. Your abs clench at the force of your orgasm.

He kisses your neck, nibbles your ear, soothes the bruises he had made with his tongue. You're huffing and gasping as you come down.

He pulls his fingers out slowly and you clench your thighs, still sensitive down there. You look at each other and promptly burst out laughing.

His hand is soaked.

"Oh, that was so good," you sigh. His hand rests on your stomach. He traces little stars. "Yeah, it was. Wicked girl," he chimes, "I knew you had it in you."

You can feel his erection pressed into your thigh, but he doesn't look at you with lust. He's simply enamoured.

"You did so good", he whispers into your temple, kisses the baby hairs there. "You wanna go get cleaned up?"

"But Ed's you have-" you lean up on your elbows, a little shakey.

"I am just fine." He grabs your bicep, coaxes you to lay down. "If I am gonna do anything it will be making sure you do that again."

You giggle at him, cheeks a bit rosy. The fog starts to clear. "Oh God, I wasn't too loud, was I?" Your fingers press over your lips.

"The loudest. And you better keep it that way for next time." He catches himself. "If you want a next time."

"As long as there is another next time after that one."

His curls bounce as he nods furiously. You kiss the smile off his face.

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things s4 #smut #eddie munson x reader

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yourfavouriterival · 2 years

Text

eddie munson : guitar pick

note : i wanna die. i don't know what to do with myself as of today.

pairing : eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings : ¡¡¡ MAJOR season 4 volume 2 spoilers !!! angst (grief, crying, death), slight fluff, some people are assholes

word count : 1566

summary : the aftermath of volume 2

“Mister Munson?”

There. She’d only met him a couple times, lounging at Eddie’s trailer with some shitty, one dollar drink and an amazing horror movie playing. He’d say ‘hello’ and she’d reply something kind, and then Eddie would laugh at her shyness in front of his uncle, who’d grin and go to his room.

Standing, head bowed down, in front of a vandalised photo of Eddie Munson, stood Wayne Munson. His hand hovered over the pin holding the paper sheet to the corkboard of similar announcements of missing people, all of which would be prioritised over finding Eddie Munson.

He didn’t say anything. No reply, just robotic movements of grabbing the pin and yanking off the ruined paper, replacing it with a new one.

Her heart twinged—no, twinged wasn’t the word for it. There wasn’t a word painful enough for how her body locked up, squeezing out any air from her lungs and burning through her composure which she prayed she’d keep through the day.

“Y/N,” he replied, turning his head to look at her. His eyes went straight to the shirt she was wearing—Eddie’s—and his face contorted into something painful.

A white shirt with a black print reading: ‘Corroded Coffin’. Eddie had been designing it, grinning when Y/N had asked what he was doing:

“I’m making merchandise. We’ll be big, you know? And everyone will be wearing this,” he said, grabbing her hand which was reaching for the shirt. “It’s wet, dumbass.”

“Do I get one?” she asked, laughing when he pulled her onto his lap and pressing quick kisses to her hairline.

“Duh. You get this one, lucky charm. Hopefully, you’ll wear only the shirt,” he paused, sucking a mark onto her jaw, “and nothing else.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“What, you don’t like it?” His face twisted comically.

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Eds,” she laughed, head burrowing into his neck and pressing soft kisses to his shoulder. “I’m honoured. You know I’m your biggest fan. I’ll be there for every show.”

“Yeah, yeah, you charmer,” he laughed, one hand grasping at her hips and the other cupping her jaw and leading her lips to his.

They’d gotten distracted and he never finished the shirt. He never would.

“They’re not going to be looking for him.”

She didn’t want reassurance. He knew already that this stupid town decided who deserved to live and who didn’t with no regard. She just said, “no, they’re not.”

He walked to one of the empty beds close to the corkboard, slumping down. Y/N couldn’t move her feet, staring at the picture of Eddie. He was staring at the camera, and her mind could remember the colour of his eyes and the feeling of his lips.

“You got any idea of where he is?” he asked, glancing up at his nephew’s girlfriend.

She lowered her eyes, shaking her head.

“I’ll still put up as many damn posters as it takes until he’s found because my boy is innocent.”

Her hand reached into her pocket, wrapping around the guitar pick as she tried to fight off the tingle in her nose indicating the sobs in her chest.

“I’ll see you around.” He stood, walking away.

“I was with him,” she faltered, but it didn’t matter. Eddie’s uncle had already turned, eyes searching hers. “When the, uh, earthquake hit.” His figure was getting blurrier, and her throat started tightening around the words she was attempting to force out.

“So,” he paused, “you do know where he is now?”

She couldn’t physically push the words out. Her eyes closed as she took her hand out of her pocket, holding the guitar pick—Eddie’s guitar pick—out to his uncle.

His gaze went from hers to the guitar pick.

“I’m…” she faltered. “I’m so sorry,” she sputtered out, hand quivering around the chains which Wayne Munson took. How could she tell him that Eddie was—

Words failed her, and she could only watch as Eddie’s uncle fell apart in front of her, collapsing back onto the makeshift bed.

And when the usually stoic man started sobbing, Y/N couldn’t keep her silent cry, hand coming up to cover her mouth. “I��m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she repeated, a muffled apology, sitting down next to him. Her eyes fluttered, drops falling from her eyes. “He was good. He was so good. And no one bothered to try to find that out, and I don’t know why.”

Crying used to feel good, like a relief from the world. But Eddie used to be there, holding her or talking to her, and now he wasn’t and she couldn’t collect herself in front of his uncle, and he was still facing away, clutching the guitar pick to his chest and nodding.

“I wish more people had tried to find that out, because I think they would have loved him as much as I do. I love Eddie, Mister Munson, so much, and he was the best person I had the privilege to know. Even when this town didn’t deserve it, he fought for it. He never got mad. He never shouted at anyone, he just took it and I know it hurt him but he kept being himself. He could’ve run—survived. But he fought and he…” she swallowed, a nausea settling over her at her next words. “He died for this place and that isn’t fair.”

“Eddie! Dustin!” she yelled, having just fallen out of the doorway. “Eddie? Dustin? Where are you?”

Her voice was hoarse now, but she ran out either way to find—

Dustin was holding Eddie, and something was wrong. Something was bad, worse than anything someone could dream up. Through all the shit with Vecna, with the bats, with the deaths, Y/N had never felt this kind of dread until this moment.

“I think it’s my year, Henderson,” he struggled with the words that she heard as she ran forwards, “I think it’s finally my year.”

“Eddie!” she fussed, falling onto her knees opposite of Dustin. She didn’t care about the dead bats around them or the way loose rocks dug into her skin, she could only see him. “Eddie, hey. Hey, you’re okay, right? You’re okay.”

“I’m okay, lucky charm,” he smiled, but it didn’t last long fading to be replaced with the tears filling his eyes.

But he wasn’t okay. There was blood around his mouth and on his body, and she could see that he was struggling to even breathe. He wouldn’t survive the trip out of the Upside Down, and she had the sinking feeling that the hospitals would turn them away.

“D—don’t worry,” he blinked. “Worry ‘bout Henderson here.” Dustin grabbed his hand, saying something about how Eddie was okay, but Eddie just smiled and said, “I love you, man.”

Dustin, the poor boy who was too young to lose someone this important, whimpered back, “I love you too.”

“Y/N, I—I—” he struggled, but Y/N just leaned down and pressed a kiss to the spot where his forehead met the bandana wrapped around his head.

“I know,” she answered, because she knew what he meant. He never stopped saying it. “I love you, Eddie. You did so well. Just rest a bit, and I’ll fix this.” One of her hands went to his hair, smoothing it out for possibly the last time, and she wished she could hear the way he usually hummed when she did that.

She thinks he may have tried to laugh, but a cut off sound came out instead, and just as a tear fell from his eye, she knew that he was gone.

She didn’t make a sound, just fell forwards and grasped at Dustin’s hand which tightly gripped back, gasping into the tattered fabric of his shirt.

“Eddie…” Dustin begged, and he was so young and innocent that she couldn’t hold herself up anymore.

“Oh, God,” she sobbed out, wishing she could scream until her throat corroded and her heart burst. Her hand was still in his hair, but she couldn’t physically move from where she’d collapsed onto him. “Eddie,” she screeched, a panicked and pained sound lost in his shirt.

He didn’t say anything, and she took that as incentive to stand.

“I’m—I'm sorry,” she said again, wiping her eyes.

“You should keep this,” Wayne said, reaching towards her and giving her Eddie’s guitar pick. He didn’t look at her, and she wondered if he ever would again.

She took it, and her throat hurt so much that she rushed to the women’s bathroom, ready to puke her guts up or tear her heart out in one of the stalls. But she wasn’t the only one in there, so she rushed into one of the compartments, sunk down onto the lid of the toilet and held a hand to her mouth, holding it down and hoping to hold in the sounds.

“It’s that boy’s fault, you know? Eddie Munson killed all these people. Him and that cult.”

Eddie did so much, and he died with everyone thinking of him as a devil worshipper. He was so good. He was perfect, and he was flawed, but he did good. He didn’t run. He fought. He loved so fiercely. And Y/N had no clue of where to go from now.

Because, truly, did anything matter if she couldn’t share it with the only person she’d ever truly love?

#eddie x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things angst #stranger things imagine #stranger things season 4 #eddie the freak munson #angst #stranger things spoilers #stranger things #edward munson

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msgexymunson · 2 years

Text

Please, Say My Name

Virgin!Eddie x Experienced!Fem!Reader

Description: Eddie's obsessed with his older neighbour. When a black out happens, he feels the need to check on her, and finds out his obsession may not be one sided.

A/N: I may or may not be projecting here, 30s reader and all. This was a challenge for me, writing from Eddie's POV (I've never experienced a male orgasm, I'm just guessing haha,) I love a cocky Eddie but cannon I think Eddie is a virgin, so I feel this is the partner he had to make him like he is in all these fan fics lol (maybe why he has so many pet names for girls?) Excuse my British ass for any American idioms that are wrong. Also I feel like reader's slightly southern?

Warnings: sexual tension, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader in her 30s, reference to curves not size, all manner of pet names (sweetheart to reader, all sorts to Eddie, tiger, champ, hot shot, sugar, honey lmao) NSFW, Minors DNI, I will feed you to the wolves, M! Masturbation, voyeurism, perv! Eddie, M! Oral receiving, nipple play, F! Fingering, protected sex (wrap it boys and gals)

5.2k words

Masterlist

Jesus H. Christ she's gonna kill me.

Tiny shorts riding up your ass, sporting a bikini top and bare feet. Bending down, he watches you reaching into the laundry basket. Shorts so tight he can nearly see the outline of your cunt. Standing upright, tits threatening to spill out of your top, the shape of your nipples peeking through the fabric. Stretching up, hanging clothes on the line. Bending again.

Eddie's been staring out the window of his trailer, spying through the makeshift curtains into your yard for the past twenty minutes, utterly transfixed by you, fisting his cock lazily. A bead of pre cum dribbles from the tip of his dick down to his fingers. It mingles with the spit already in his palm. He knows he shouldn't but he can't help it, your more mature frame burned into his eyelids. It has been for a while now.

He knows you're in your thirties, at least ten years older than him, but he can't help it. Every movement you make is sensual. He watches your hips rock every time you move to hang your clothes.

When you moved in a couple of months ago, Eddie was laying smoking pot in his room when Wayne had knocked on his door.

"Boy, a new neighbour's moving in next door. You best offer to help her."

Knowing his uncle meant business whenever he called him 'boy', he wandered over to offer his help, and was faced with you. You were wearing some skin tight leggings and a crop top, curves on full display, wrestling with a TV, trying to manoeuvre it into your trailer.

"Hey, need a hand?"

You had jumped at the sudden offer, turned round and saw this sweet looking, messy haired young boy staring at you.

"Well thanks champ, real kind of you." You smiled at him, placing the TV on the floor. He had eyeballed you from top to toe smirking, then grabbed the TV and lifted it like it was nothing.

"In the living room, tiger," you had said at his back, watching his shoulder muscles.

Placing the tv with a small thud, he held his palm out to you.

"I'm Eddie, Eddie Munson."

You placed your manicured hand in his and shook it.

"Well I'm y/n y/l/n, pleasure to meet you sugar." Your voice all honey and cinnamon, you winked at him. Eddie's throat almost shrivelled up at that wink, mouth suddenly dry.

Eddie had moved most of your furniture that day. Not because you were unable, but because he had insisted. You were perfectly happy to allow him, watching that slender frame start to sweat, straining to move some of the heavier items. He was certainly good to look at. Eddie stole glances at you all day, mesmerised by the way you move.

Since then, Eddie had helped you a few times. Needed something from the store? Eddie would jump at the chance. TV aerial playing up again? Eddie was around in a heartbeat fixing it for you. Shitty car broken down? Eddie's sprinting over, offering you a ride.

When he found out you were working as a waitress at the nearby diner he'd make any excuse to visit. He would sit there, attempting to write notes on his next D&D campaign, drinking coffee he didn't enjoy as he thought you wouldn't take him seriously if he bought a milkshake. You would laugh at his little jokes, touch him on his arm, and call him all manner of pet names. He was smitten.

Now, you were a waitress. You flirted with everyone. Hell, your living is mostly based off of tips, Eddie understood that. But it felt like something extra when you flirted with him. Sometimes your hand would linger a little longer on his. He's sure he's never seen you winking at anyone else. When you reached over to refill his cup once and practically paraded your cleavage in front of his face Eddie thought he would spontaneously combust.

As you finish hanging up the washing, you take a moment to stretch your arms, then walk inside. Eddie's shoulders visibly deflate, wanting to finish what he had started.

After a minute you return with something in your hand, making your way over to your lawn chair. You slip your shorts off exposing your skimpy bikini bottoms and Eddie groans loudly, picking up the pace of his languid strokes. Running your fingers under the tie sides you pulled them further up your hips, the material gathering slightly at your ass. Eddie is sweating, watching your every move, tightening his grip on his cock.

Laying down, you open your palm; it was sun lotion that you had carried from inside. When you shake some out of the bottle and proceed to rub it casually onto the tops of your breasts Eddie chokes on a cry, fucking his fist faster, spraying his cum all over his hand.

He knows he shouldn't have, and he knows he should clean himself up and snap out of it, but you're still rubbing lotion in your skin, manicured hands stroking all over your body, he's utterly enthralled, and he's already getting hard again. Fuck.

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

A couple of weeks later Eddie's getting ready for a blind date that Gareth twisted his arm into attending. He truly hates set ups, but he made a promise and that's that. Fussing with his hair, he slings on a burgundy button down shirt, paired with his usual black jeans and combat boots. Deciding to do without his jacket since it's been hot as hell these last few weeks, he stuffs his cigarettes into his pocket and makes his way outside.

Hearing a wolf whistle he turns around, confused. You're sitting in your lawn chair, smoking a cigarette, enjoying the balmy air, wearing nothing but sleep shorts and a tank top.

"Well hey handsome, where you off to?" You call over. Eddie steps closer, drawn to you, hands in his back pockets.

"Just some blind date, nothin' special." He shrugs.

"A date huh? Well come here, let me take a proper look at you."

Eddie swallows and hesitantly steps forward.

"Turn around." He's obeying before he even knows what's happening, turning on the spot, arms open.

"Hmmm," you say, standing up directly in front of him, impossibly close. Eddie can smell your musky, sweet perfume, and is desperately trying to control the blush that he knows is begging to crawl over his cheeks.

You reach out with your painted fingernails and touch his chest. Eddie's sure his heart stops beating for a second. Staring at his chest, you pop open one of his shirt buttons, and then another, exposing his guitar pick necklace. Eddie's stopped breathing, mouth hanging open. The bulge in his jeans is starting to become noticeable.

You look up and smile.

"There, that's better." You pat his chest, hand lingering for a moment.

"B-better?" Eddie stammers out.

"Yeah, a real stud." You lean towards him, tilting your head upwards to whisper in his ear. "I mean, I would."

Eddie can feel his blood rushing all the way to the roots of his hair. He's speechless.

You turn away from him, putting your cigarette out. Walking towards your trailer you call over your shoulder. "Go get 'em, tiger."

Flabbergasted, Eddie can only stare at you, eyes never leaving your back until your door closes.

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

Well, that was a complete waste of my time.

Eddie's pissed. He had waited for over an hour but his date never showed. Driving back to the trailer park in his van, metal blasting from the speakers despite the late hour, he pulled up outside his home. Wayne's car was gone, he must have left for work already.

Storming into the trailer, he was angry, not just at the date but at himself. What if she did turn up, took one look at him and left? He really didn't need some mystery girl making him feel inadequate, he did that well enough himself.

Sighing, he threw his van keys haphazardly on the table and turned on the light switch. Nothing happened. He tried again. Then he tried the TV. Nothing.

"Well, shit." He said to the darkness.

Stepping back out the front door he looked around the trailer park. Pitch black. In his anger he hadn't even noticed. His eyes were inexplicably pulled to your trailer. He thought he could see a dim flickering light through the blinds.

He could knock. A concerned neighbour, just checking in on her because of the black out.

I wonder if she's still wearing those little shorts.

He took a deep breath and strode over, climbing the steps to your front door. Fuck, what do I say?

Too late, his hand was already rapping on the door. Silence for a moment.

"Who is it?" Your voice rang out.

"It's Eddie, just checking on you" when the fuck did my voice get so squeaky, Jesus.

He heard the sound of security chains clanking and the latch clicking softly. Then there you were in your tiny pyjamas, bathed in candlelight, your hair loose around your shoulders. Eddie thought you looked like you had wandered in from a story, a dream.

"Well hey you. You're back early. How'd the date go?" You tilted your head at him, eyes shining.

"It er, didn't. She blew me off."

"Well, she don't know what's she's missing. Wanna come in?" You gesture to the old chintz couch that he had helped you move in months before. A coffee table he doesn't recognise sits in front of it with three fat lit candles. Eddie nods eagerly and moves inside whilst you lock the door again.

You move over to an old wooden sideboard, a further collection of candles sitting there, and pour yourself a bourbon.

"You want one?"

"Yeah sure."

You pour another, grabbing some ice from the ice box and put a couple of cubes in each glass. You go to hand one to him. When he reaches out to grab it you pull it back suddenly.

"Hang on a minute big guy, how old are you?" You screw your eyebrows, examining his face.

"I turn 21 in like 3 weeks!" Eddie protested.

"Ah, another way to say your 20. Hmmm. Well you're lucky I already poured it, hot shot. Here you go. One drink mind. Don't wanna get you into trouble." You giggle, face slightly flushed. Eddie definitely believes this isn't your first drink of evening.

Sitting on the couch you cross your legs, shorts riding high up your thigh. You look into Eddie's eyes, smiling at him from the corner of your mouth.

"So, came to check on lil old me?"

"Well yeah, wanted to make sure you were ok."

"You're always checking on me ain't ya sugar. Always." You reach over and squeeze his knee.

Eddie nearly chokes taking a sip of the bourbon but tries to disguise it as a cough. The touch of your hand on his leg is all consuming.

"Well, yeah, I mean you're on your own over here. I just wanted to make sure you're safe."

"Well ain't you a slice of cutie pie." You stand up, "I'm just gonna powder my nose honey." Walking off you make your way to the bathroom, hips swaying.

Eddie takes the opportunity to look around the room, perusing the photos on the walls as best he can in the dim light. A framed picture over the sideboard stops him in his tracks. He stares at it in disbelief.

You return, taking your drink off the side board and having a sip.

"You- do you know Deep Purple??" Eddie exclaims, pointing at the photo.

"Ha, yeah a little. I mean, I knew a lot of bands back in the day. Only groupie to end up with a roadie I swear." You chuckle to yourself, making your way to the couch.

Groupie??

"Oh, I didn't know you were seeing anyone." Eddie shrinks down, perching on the edge of the couch.

"Not any more. Why do you think I ended up here? Half my stuff is still with that moron. I swear I have better taste in furniture than this junk" You shrug, tipping back your drink.

"Oh. I'm sorry sweetheart." Eddie moves on instinct, reaching out to stroke your hand in comfort.

"You don't have a single thing to be sorry for kid, don't worry about it."

Eddie feels a sudden spark of bravery. He's never gotten you to open up before about your own life.

"You know, I'm in a band." He sips his drink, trying not to cough.

"Oh really, I'm not surprised. You look like a musician." Running your hand up and down his thigh. Fuck, is she for real? Eddie can't help trembling slightly. "too nice to be one though."

"Hey, I can be a gentleman and a guitarist. Why not?" Eddie puffs out his chest and daringly reaches to touch you on the cheek. You grab his hand before it can even make contact.

"Look, you're a nice boy. I'm not gonna lie, you're hot as sin, but I'm not sure I wanna be the one to mess with that 'knight in shining armor' shit you've got going on, okay champ?" You pull his hand from your face, but you don't let go. Slender fingers tracing patterns on his rings.

She thinks you're hot as sin.

"Do you think I'm too young for you?" Eddie's voice quavers, but he's dragging your hands to his mouth, settling kisses to your fingers, lapping at the tips of your manicured fingers with his tongue.

"Fuck," distracted for a moment, "I never said that, I just, don't think I should be the one to mess with you first is all."

Eddie's cheeks burn red.

"Is it that obvious?" He looks down, releasing your hands, unable to meet your gaze. Humiliation weighs on his chest.

"Oh honey, don't feel bad, I read people for a living." You smile softly at him.

"Maybe I," Eddie begins, brown doe eyes seeking yours, "maybe I want you to be first. I mean, I might not know what I'm doing," Eddie half hides behind his hair at that, "but I want to. Maybe you could, teach me, you know?"

You laugh, the throaty sound reverberating through the trailer.

"Oh darlin', you don't know what you're asking."

"Oh I think I do. And I think you want it too. I've seen you looking at me." Cockiness edges his voice, sounding braver than he felt.

You scoot nearer to him, closing the gap between you, hot bodies making contact. Your knee rests on his leg, hand stroking up the exposed skin on his chest. Heat pours from the both of you. The heady scent of your perfume invades Eddie's senses, making it difficult to focus when you are so near. He can feel his cock stiffening.

"Oh, and you think I don't notice you too? Your eyes on me whenever I bend over? Eyeballin' my tits when I'm tryin' to do my job?"

Eddie's breath is unsteady, shaking, heaving at his chest. Your touch is setting him ablaze. The heat in the trailer is stifling.

"Well, I'm sorry but," he takes a deep breath, trying to will his usual confidence to kick in. "You're so fucking hot, I don't know what to do with myself." He turns his head towards you, eyeing your lips in the flickering candlelight.

"Flattery will get you everywhere." You smirk at him.

Go on, grow a pair, kiss her.

Eddie sneaks his hand to the back of your head warily, eyes darting to your mouth. You make no move to stop him, gazing at him with half lidded eyes. Gulping, he closes the gap, pressing a kiss to your full lips. You grab his shirt in your fist and pull him closer. Eddie takes that as the best sign he can get right now, opening his mouth and deepening the kiss. You taste of bourbon, cigarettes and something sweet he can't place. His tongue pushes into you almost greedily, mapping out every inch of your mouth. It's sloppy and eager, but passionate. You run your hand up Eddie's lap, inching towards his crotch. Eddie thinks this must be some sort of fever dream as you palm him through his jeans, it takes everything he has not to cum on the spot.

Allowing his hand to drop from cradling your head, it drifts downward, cupping your breast. When his rough fingers brush your nipple over your thin top you break the kiss to allow a moan to escape your mouth.

Eddie mouths at your neck, leaving a succession of wet kisses. Clambering into his lap you straddle him and push him off your neck and back into the couch.

"You are making it real hard to say no honey." You smile from your new seat, fingers flirting down Eddie's chest.

Its Eddie's turn to grin at you smugly. He runs his palms firmly up your thighs.

"Sweetheart, you never said no."

"Well, you may have a point there sugar." And you lift your tank top over your head, revealing your bare chest.

"Holy Shit." Eddie's now convinced, this can't possibly be real. There's no way this goddess of a woman is straddling him topless right now. He knows he's blushing but he doesn't care. He's not even sure he can move right now. Far too scared to speak in case it comes out in a high pitched squeak and then you'll never show them to him again.

"Honey, you can touch them. Jesus have you never seen a pair of tits before?" You giggle, then your eyes widen. "Shit, you haven't have you?"

Eddie just barely manages to tear his eyes away and look you in the face.

"I mean, girls aren't exactly lining up at the door for Eddie 'The Freak' Munson." He scoffs.

You lean forward, slowly unbuttoning the remainder of his shirt.

"Aw, poor baby." Flipping open his shirt you rake your nails down his chest, giving him goose bumps. Eddie's breath catches in his throat.

"You just need someone to take care of you, don't cha?" Grinding into his lap.

Eddie's eyes roll back, his whole body feeling like a raw, exposed nerve. Electricity bolting through him with every roll of your hips.

You bring his hands up to your nipples, encouraging him. Eddie's fingertips brush them softly, feeling them harden to his ministrations. Your reaction to his touch emboldens him; leaning forward he presses soft lips to your breast. Once, twice, three times, and then he takes your nipple into his mouth and sucks gently.

"Oh fuck, Eddie."

You'd never said his name before yet you purr it now. That breathy, impassioned sound sends a shiver throughout his body. If he could just hear one thing for the rest of his life, from now until eternity, it would be you saying his name. He wants to see if he can make you scream it.

He whips his tongue around your nipple, trying to find what makes you make the loudest noises, gripping onto your hips tightly. You rock in his lap, moaning in encouragement.

Climbing off his lap, you settle between his legs on your knees. Eddie's fit to burst, watching you rake those painted nails of yours up the inside of his thighs.

"You still want this sugar?" Fingertips creeping to Eddie's belt, biting your lip.

"Hell yeah!" Lightning fast he pops his belt undone, along with the button and zip on his jeans, and pulls them down unceremoniously along with his boxers. His member springs out, thwapping against his stomach.

"Well big guy, if the girls knew about this they'd be lining up 'round the block." Your smile looks dipped in wickedness.

"R-really?" Eddie stammers, shuddering as you take his length into your palm, strokes firm but painfully slow.

"Hmmm" bending down you take the tip into your mouth, stroking with the flat of your tongue.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Eddie scrunched his eyes shut, "sweetheart, please."

"What's wrong honey?" You lick up and down his length, fisting his cock covered in your spit.

"If you, fuck, if you carry on I'm gonna cum."

You look at him with a mischievous glint in your eye, and take his cock fully into your throat, hollowing your cheeks. Eddie physically convulses, groaning loudly. He can't possibly look at you, if he does he won't be able to hold it in.

Letting go with a lewd wet dribble, you stand up, and go to remove your shorts. Eddie's hands shoot out to stop you. Looking at him with the question in your mind, he flashes you a toothy grin.

"Let me." Dark lustful eyes fixed on your waistband. You allow him the pleasure. He runs his fingers along your shorts, inching them down slowly, kissing the uncovered skin. The shorts stick slightly between your legs, causing Eddie to have to peel them down. He cannot help but see how wet they are. He can smell you. It's faint but musky, and sweet, almost like your perfume. He's obsessed. His hand hovers near your heat, looking up for confirmation.

Collecting his fingers in yours, you pull two to your mouth and suck them, gathering saliva. Eddie watches you, mouth open, enraptured. You guide his fingers down, down, to the front of your folds. When his fingers graze your swollen nub you sigh audibly.

"That there honey, you feel that? That's my clit." Eddie nods emphatically, not exactly in a position to form words right now. He runs sloppy circles over it, slipping with the mix of slick and spit, watching your face with wide open eyes, watching how you throw your head back a little, how your mouth parts slightly, how you tremble. He presses down and you cry out, knees buckling.

"Fuck, Eddie!" You grab his shoulders, "why don't you lie back so I can take care of you?"

Brows furrowing, Eddie says "Can- can I try and, er, take care of you? I mean, I'm 'bout to explode and I really want to make you feel good." Eddie begs with his eyes. If he can make you come undone beneath him he can die a happy man.

"Sure baby. Always wanna take care of me huh?" You lie back on the sofa, opening your legs to him.

"Holy Shit." Eddie scrambles over to you, forgetting he still has his pants round his ankles and nearly falls. You giggle at his antics. Untangling himself, he throws his shirt off that's still hanging on him unbuttoned.

Eager fingers make their way back to your pussy, rubbing on your clit, eliciting a little moan from you.

"Do you wanna stick your fingers in me honey?"

Yes, Eddie would like that very much.

Eddie's fingers are guided to your entrance. You wrap your hand around his middle and ring fingers, and line them up. Eddie understands, probing at you hesitantly at first, rubbing, gathering your wetness on his fingers, then pushes them all the way in. He's rewarded with a low whine from you, back arching off the couch.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you, sitting up on his knees, watching your face, how your tits move, and his fingers disappearing inside your cunt.

Eddie is determined to see you cum on his fingers. He needs to see you unravel. What if he never gets this opportunity again? He needs to commit to memory every sigh, every twitch, every time you say his name. God, especially the times you say his name.

He's trying different things, how he moves, the speed of it, feeling your impossibly tight wet pussy around him when all of a sudden he curls his fingers up and...

Oh.

Your reaction is visceral and immediate. Eddie keeps curling his fingers up. His hand is cramping; it hurts but he doesn't give a shit. Not when Aphrodite incarnate is laying below him, bathed in candlelight, moaning in ecstasy.

"Oh Eddie, oh my God, just like that, fuck."

You're writhing beneath him, moaning, your glistening body shining in the dim light. Eddie speeds up his motions, biting his lip. He's never been so hard in all his life. Suddenly you're clenching so hard around his fingers he can barely move, bucking against his hand.

'Oh Eddie!"

That fractured, high pitched scream of his name is the best thing he's ever heard. Back arched, your hands flying to his arm to still his movements, face in shock.

Breathlessly you manage to say "I thought you'd never done this before?"

Eddie's grin is smug and mischievous. "You think I would lie about that?"

He removes his fingers from inside of you, pleased as can be when you whine and frown a little at the loss.

"Do you have a condom sugar?"

Eddie looks wildly around the room, eyes settling on his discarded clothes. Finding his wallet he pulls one out with a flourish and a flash of teeth.

"You always walk around with that?" You smile at him.

"What can I say, I live in hope!" You giggle and Eddie thinks it's the second best thing he's heard from your mouth.

Now, I think I know how to do this...

The worry must be evident in his face as you hold your hand out and Eddie puts the condom in it with relief. You rip the wrapper with your teeth and roll the condom down his length, spitting in your hand and stroking him a few times. Eddie looks anywhere else he can, he can't possibly look at you handling his dick. He doesn't want this to be over yet.

You lie back and Eddie moves on top of you. Holding his length you line him up and he starts pushing into you devastatingly deep.

"Jesus, baby, you're so big."

Eddie can't think of those words slipping from your beautiful lips. All he can think of is the tight, impossible warmth he's sinking into. Your cunt is squeezing him like a vice, like nothing he's ever felt before.

"Darlin, look at me." Eddie's eyes are scrunched up, holding himself up by his outstretched arms. He opens his eyes.

"Fuck you're beautiful." He strokes the side of your face, moving a couple of loose hairs that had stuck to you.

"You're very sweet. You can move now honey."

"Say my name." He stares into your eyes, pupils blown black with lust.

You look slightly taken quick by the dominance but recover quickly, flashing him an easy smile, batting your eyelashes at him.

"Please fuck me Eddie."

I've gone insane. How else could this be happening? I've lost my mind, made it up.

He'd believe that if he couldn't feel how amazing it felt being sheathed inside of you. He pulled slowly out, feeling the drag of your walls around his cock, then pushed back in.

Jesus Christ.

Eddie's a little unsure, trying to set a pace, trying to judge it on the noises you make, but he knows he's absolutely not going to last. The feelings too intense, rocking into you, watching that gorgeous face looked so fucked beneath him, it's everything he's wanted and more.

Shifting a bit, he gets up on his knees and pulls your legs around his waist, holding your knees, and thrusts into you.

"Oh Eddie, yes!" Your eyes are rolling back, closing, a continuous stream of moans escaping your mouth.

This is better. This is deeper. Eddie can feel everything, from the tips of his fingers to the tip of his cock to the tips of his toes. He thrusts harder, deeper, pulling you bodily into him, fingers pressing hard into your flesh. He can feel you clenching around his length and fucks into you with everything he has, sweat dripping down his back. His orgasm goes off like a gunshot, pumping his seed into the condom. You tighten even further, cumming with a mantra, a prayer, a plea of his name, over and over and over.

Eddie falls into you, feeling the sweaty sheen of his skin and yours intermingling, the heave of your breasts against his chest. You pant in unison, coming down.

Just about managing to lift his head, he looks at you and smiles, you look right back, grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers with his. Eddie can't help it. He chuckles, the laughter coming from deep in his chest, shaking his body. You giggle back, post orgasm haze sprinkled over the whole room.

Eddie plants a kiss to your soft lips.

"Was that, erm, okay?" Eddie knows he sounds like a kid in this moment, but he had to know. He has to hear it from you.

"Eddie, you're a fuckin' natural." You smile, planting a kiss on the tip of his nose.

He grins wolfishly at that. Peeling your flesh from his in the sticky heat he sits up and pulls the condom off. You gesture to a waste paper basket and he chucks the rubber in there.

Eddie leans back on you, arms encasing your head, nose to nose.

"Good enough to do again?" His grin is arrogant but his eyes are sincere.

"You're a cocky son of a bitch, you know that?"

"Sweetheart, you never said no."

You laugh loudly at that, pulling him in for a slow kiss. Bodies pressed against each other in the flickering light, heat of sex and summer radiating off the pair of you, utterly lost in the moment.

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

The heat wave showed no sign of stopping, though thankfully the blackout only lasted until morning. Eddie had snuck back next door in the early hours, unable to wipe the grin off his face.

It was early afternoon, and Eddie was standing outside, having a smoke and trying to catch a hint of breeze.

Uncle Wayne had stepped outside too, sparking a cigarette.

"What you smiling about son?" Wayne looks out the corner of his eye at Eddie.

"Nothin' Sir, just happy."

You exit your trailer, fanning yourself in the heat, ready for your shift. You look over and see your neighbours.

Waving at them, you walk closer.

Eyes on Wayne, you wave, "hey sugar how you doin'?"

"I'm good miss, workin' hard."

"Well, don't you work too hard honey." You smile, swaying your hips.

Looking over at Eddie, he flashes you the cheekiest look, smile crinkling his eyes. You flush in response.

"Hey Eddie."

"Hey."

An uncontrollable smirk is on your face as you open your car, looking bashful for once.

Wayne looks at Eddie's face, then at your blushing cheeks, and back to Eddie.

"What?" Eddie shrugs his shoulders at his uncle, unable to control the beaming smile that's plastered on his face.

Wayne shakes his head. He sees your car drive off and goes to walk past Eddie back to the trailer, putting his cigarette out on the ground.

At the last minute, Wayne holds his hand up, palm flat, fingers splayed. Eddie gives his uncle a high five. Wayne continues to shake his head, walking back inside.

#eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #strangerthingsedit #stranger things fan fic #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x fem!reader #ms gexy writes

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whiskeynwriting · 2 years

Text

All I've Wanted

Joel Miller x Female Reader

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Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) dirty talk, soft/dom Joel, semi-public sex, unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of vaginal fingering, slightly established relationship, some fluffies

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A/N: oh Jesus fucking Christ I just saw the trailer for “The Last of Us” and this is what came of it. Absolutely no regrets, I can’t fucking wait for this.

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Joel Miller Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

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It’s everything you can do not to disturb the peace, the quiet and calm air that you so rarely find yourself in. The dead of night; it’s pitch black outside, the color of uncertainty and fear. Inside is warm though, only because of him. Right now, you’re not frightened. Although you should always be on alert, you allow yourself this one single reprieve.

“You have to be quiet for me.” he mumbles to you, smoothing his hand over the back of your head with some force. He turns to the side, pressing his face against you, his thick baritone washing over your cheek. “We can’t wake Ellie.”

“I know.” you immediately whimper in return, clinging to him desperately. You nod. “I know.”

He’s holding you down, not at all letting you move. And although you’re reveling in this, you despise not being able to feel his skin, not being able to truly experience him. But hopes such as that aren’t realistic in this world, not anymore.

“Sh…” he coos to you, much kinder than before. Again, his hand pets at your hair, his nose nuzzling into you.

Small squeaks slip from your mouth here and there, little whimpers when you hear his occasional moans. He grunts beneath you, teeth digging into his lip to keep himself from getting any louder. And whenever your fingernails glide lightly over his neck, clutching the fabric of his collar tightly in your hands, you can feel him throb.

“Ngh,” you clench your teeth, feeling the pressure of him, the firm grind of his hips.

You’d been sleeping next to him, and have been for some time now. Ellie’s noticed, but she hasn’t asked. Joel even decided to kiss you in front of her today. She’s not some dumb kid, you’re sure she knows.

But tonight, this is the first night you’ve done this. He’s never pulled you onto him like this, never kissed you breathless before sliding himself inside. He’d been laying on his back, you on your side while cuddling into him. A few small kisses to his neck made him sigh, his hands daring to roam your covered body. Your small hip movements were hard to ignore, but he didn’t even try.

One of your hands curls around his neck, rising to card your fingers through his hair. And oh, he likes that, Joel really likes the feeling of that.

“Sweetheart,” comes his muffled grunt. His eyes pinch shut, fingers digging into your hips. “Fuck.”

For some reason, this is the position the two of you decided upon when you finally gave into each other. Well, decided upon isn’t necessarily the right way to put it. It was the first thing that happened when he pulled you on top of him.

“God, don’t call me that.” you murmur against him, mouth falling agape when you feel the harsh grind of his hips.

He grunts out a chuckle, something small but it makes you shiver. “Why not?”

Joel’s voice is so rich and thick, it made you want to listen to him for hours. It’s a shame he didn’t speak too often, at least, not as much as you’d like.

“You seem to like it every other time.”

“Baby,” you whine, sucking in a breath. “I love it.”

This makes him grin, that cocky half-smirk that makes your insides stir. You can’t see it though, your face is completely hidden beside him. And even if you did lift yourself enough to be just barely above him, still, you’d see only black. But you can feel him, can feel that glorious smile form right next to you.

It’s a shame really, the way he’s fucking you. It’s to keep everything as quiet as it can be, but still, you’d do anything to have more.

“Joel,” you whisper, tugging on his hair, your fingers scraping across his scalp. This makes him shove his head back, the tendons in his neck flexing, his veins protruding.

With a heavy sigh, you rest your body over his much sturdier one; he loves feeling your weight on him. His hands haven’t left your hips, his fingers lowering every so often to touch your flesh. You’d only been able to slip off your joggers before he got his hands on you, moving your panties to the side before plunging into you. But he isn’t thrusting up into you, and he isn’t pulling you down. He only gives you shallow ruts, grinding up into your pelvis while holding your body in place. He’s seated entirely inside of you, the stretch of him more than you thought you could bear. Joel hadn’t given you proper foreplay before deciding to fuck you, but you didn’t blame him; there wasn’t time for that.

“This is all I’ve wanted.” he mumbles against you, his scruff prickling your skin. But the sting of it goes away when he kisses your cheek sweetly. “For so long.”

“I know…” again, your fingers slide through his graying hair, the point of your nose moving along the column of his neck. “I’ve wanted you.”

“You have me,” his head turns to the side, shoulder lightly nudging you up from the curve of his neck. And when you lift yourself from him, you see nothing but darkness, but you feel every bit of him. Closing the tiniest of gaps, he leans forward, connecting your lips again. Both of your palms lift to either side of his face, allowing yourself to moan softly into him.

“If this is the only time we get,” he tells you breathlessly, “You have me.”

His words make you sad; this truly may be the only time you have. For months you’ve been traveling with them, both him and Ellie. Something about saving whoever you can. You were beyond grateful for that. Something Joel wasn’t interested in doing though, was pursuing any sort of intimacy. Not with you, not with anyone. He thought hell would freeze over before he received the luxury of being able to think about that. But you wiggled your way in, and without even trying to do so, too. He saw how you were, how sweet yet fiery you could be. You weren’t a burden he and Ellie were carrying along; oftentimes, you were the glue to your small team.

“Mm…”

“Fuck me.” through the blackness of night his eyes roll back, lids closing briefly.

He loves when you whine, when the little vibrations send waves through his body. He’s never heard you like this before, and it’s everything he’s fucking dreamed it would be. He thought maybe one day the two of you would be alone long enough for him to kiss you, touch you, maybe even slide a finger inside you. But having this be your first sexual encounter was more than he ever expected.

Every time you wiggle down against him, he bares his teeth, hissing quietly. He throbs intensely under the warm suction of your inner walls, his chest huffing out desperate breaths that are becoming harder and harder to suppress.

“If I can do this again,” he rasps out, feeling your forehead rest against his. “Will you let me, baby?”

It’s not that he’s seen you even semi-naked before, or seen you freshly dressed and done up. Since you met, all three of you have been covered in dirt and sweat, wearing the same clothes nearly every day. But he didn’t need to see you in anything pretty to know how beautiful you were. Your smile made his insides light up, brought him to the brink of feeling emotions he hasn’t let himself feel in some time. You made him happy; not many people do. And for you, you liked his instincts, his natural ability and want to protect. He was willing to do anything for the ones that he loved. And now, you suppose that includes you.

“Yes baby,” it almost comes out as a hiss, a passionate gasp you try to muffle with his chest. Your head falls down, resting on the firmness of his upper torso, in turn shoving yourself down against him. “Of course, yes.”

“Please baby,” he suddenly huffs out, eyelids forcing shut once again. “Please be quiet for me.”

“I can’t help it,” you stifle your cry with the fabric on his chest, pressing your face into the warm fleece.

“Where do you want me?”

“Hm?” your brows are furrowed, teeth digging harshly into your bottom lip.

“I can’t cum inside you.” he shakes his head briefly, allowing his hips to jut up against you.

“Why?”

“Don’t ask me that.” he spits out in response. “You know why.” You can barely take care of yourselves right now; why would you ever want to bring a child here?

“Baby, I -”

“Tell me.” Joel cuts you off, the pulsation rocking through his erection fully taking over him. “Tell me right now.”

“Just pull out, baby,” your hand slides down slightly, fingers rubbing his coarse stubble.

“You want it on your ass?” he asks, raising a brow although you can’t see.

“Yes,” is all you manage to get out before his hands leave, fingertips curling around your underwear and pulling.

“Baby,”

“I told you to be quiet for me.” he hurries out in response, feeling the fabric fall to the side once he’s ripped it off.

When his hands return to your hips he audibly groans, retaliating against his own command. He can feel your skin now, can feel so much of your skin now. Those large, roughly calloused hands fall to your ass, gripping you harshly as he allows himself a few choice, powerful thrusts. Against his better wishes, he pushes you further up on his chest, dropping a hand to grip himself in hand once he pulls out.

“Fuck!” it’s gritted out through his teeth, his lips curling as he releases.

Rapidly, he fucks his hand, feeling the hot rush of it leave him in spurts. And you cling to him tightly, feeling the sticky wetness of it wash your skin. The mere sensation of it hitting your backside makes you shake in his arms, his stuttered breaths hitting your cheek as he turns to press his lips to you. You hold his head while he does it, pressing his mouth to your jaw firmly while combing through his hair again.

“Joel,” you whimper, turning to meet his lips. They’re plush, even through the chapped texture the winter weather has made them.

“Hush, baby.” he returns, cooing softly to you.

When his breaths begin to steady, he speaks again. “I’ll find you a new pair,” swallowing thickly, he ends his sentence with, “I promise.”

Slowly, guilt fills his insides. Clothing is hard to come by. But he’ll search for it for you, he’ll always do his best to make things better for you.

“Okay, baby.” you nod, a small smile now pulling at your lips.

“Please don’t let me go.” it’s sudden, you didn’t expect to say that.

Even though it surprises him too, he responds wholeheartedly with, “I won’t, honey. I’m here.”

“Promise me?”

“Of course.” he says it firmly. He wouldn't lie to you, not about that.

Neither of you can deny that the intimacy in your relationship has grown tenfold; and although this isn’t what you originally desired, it’s all that fills your heads now. You’re important to him, there isn't anything in this world powerful enough to change that.

Thank you for reading <3

#oh fuck me #baby #I'm so feral for you #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller smut #The Last of Us #The Last of Us fanfiction #The Last of Us smut

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natashaslesbian · 6 months

Note

Hi! 😊

I don't know if your requests are still open but I am just going to leave my request here just in case they are.

So this is a Mama!Nat request where Y/N (kid, around the age of 6 or 7 if it's possible) celebrates her birthday while she's on the run in Norway with her Mama and Natasha tries to make Y/N's day as happy as possible, even managing to buy a cake for her daughter as a surprise alongside a new teddy bear.

I understand if the requests are closed or if you don't want to write this. Thank you so much for your time and I want you to know that I'm a big fan of your work! It's absolutely amazing!!! Sending lots of love 😊🧡

7 Laps Around The Sun

A/N: I absolutely adored this request and loved writing it, thank you sm! This isn’t proof read so please don’t mind any mistakes or typos :))

Word Count: 964

Parings (Mom!Natasha x Daughter!Reader) (Nat x Mason) (referenced to Clint and blackhill)

Warnings: none :))

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The door to the trailer creaked louder than ever. Why was it always when someone is trying to be quiet things make the most noise. Natasha pulled the heavy door to a close with one hand, the other carrying a large plastic bag of supplies. The redhead heard small shuffles from your shared bedroom and paused her movements, you must have settled again immediately as Nat didn’t hear anything else throughout the cold trailer. Norway was always cold but especially in late autumn, the widow would have to find another safe house to take you too, it was relatively safe here but the winter was fast approaching and Natasha wasn’t going to let you, her daughter, go cold all season.

A while later you stirred again, rolling over to mamas side of the bed. The mattress was cold beneath the sheets, it told you that Natasha wasn’t there. “Mommy” you quietly called out, eyes still shut and your grip tight on the purple baby blanket. Oh how you missed Jimmy, your beloved stuff bear, there just wasn’t any time to grab him before you left. you peeled your eyes open to the dimly lit room “Mamma” you called louder. The doors angle increased and your favourite person appeared “hey there beautiful, did you have a good sleep?” Natasha asked. You hummed and opened your arms wide for a cuddle. Mommy came and scooped you up tightly “happy birthday baby” she said as she tickled your belly. Today you were 7 years old, you felt so grown up, but this birthday was defiantly going to be different. “Thank you mommy” you said as you slid down her slender frame “can I have the chocolate cereal today? As I’m 7 now!” You begged at your mamas hip bone. Natasha had promised that as you were away from home this year you could have a special cereal as a birthday treat, she never let you have anything chocolaty before midday! It was the best she could offer until she laid sleepless last night with a new idea.

“I told you not to knock!” Natasha said as she opened the trailer door “sorry” Mason whispered “I forgot” Natasha stepped out of the door, making sure each lock was secure “ok, just sit here and don’t go inside, y/n’s a heavy sleeper so she shouldn’t wake up” the fugitive explained “I’ll be as quick as I can, there’s a 24 hour store about 20 minutes away so I’ll be like an hour tops” “ok all clear, I’ll be here”

“Actually sweetheart, I have a little surprise for you” your mama said. You eyes and ears perched up “really? What is it mama!” You exclaimed “come with me baby” Natasha said as she took hold of your small hand, wrapping her fingers around your knuckles. Mommy lead you into the main section of the trailer and you let out a loud yelp when you saw the array of pink and purple balloons gently rolling around the room in the dull wind. You looked up at the walls to find a huge banner displaying a sparkly ‘happy birthday’. You were truly amazed, when had your mama had time to do all this? “What do you think y/n?” Nat said “I love it! Thank you so much mommy!” You beamed. “You are very welcome darling” Natasha said as she hoisted you up onto her hip “but guess what?” You perched up immediately “wha mama!” You asked “there’s one more surprise, over by the fridge” your mommy said as she carried you towards the old grayed out refrigerator.

“Cake cake cake!” You exclaimed upon seeing the bright pink sparkly birthday cake, topped with sprinkles and a wonky 7. “I know this birthday is a bit different, but my baby girl always has a birthday cake, no matter what” Nat would move heaven and earth for you. “Wait mama look!” You said as you little feet pattered on the floor after escaping Natasha’s grip “a stuffy bear!” Just left of the cake was a light brown bear, tag still connected to its ear. “So there is!” Mama said, pretending she had no idea where he had come from “someone special must’ve left him for you” she didn’t like to lie, but Natasha just wanted you to have a little magic in your life “maybe uncle Clint?” You questioned “maybe, what are you going to name him?” You hummed for a moment “Peter! Because Peter is my favourite and I miss him” you said, a hint of sadness in your tone, Nat frowned. “That’s a perfect name”

“Who’s that?” You said after hearing three consecutive knocks on the door, Masons secret code to let Natasha know there was no danger. “Well if we’re going to have a party then we need guests” Your mama said as she opened the door to the strange man you’d never seen before “hello there y/n” he said, a little box in his right hand “is that a present?” You said, giving him mommy’s signature smirk “yes it is” Mason said, standing awkwardly at the door frame, his hand way too close to your mom “hey!” You said, alerting the two adults “are you mommy’s boyfriend?” You innocently asked, the pair stood in a slight uncomfortable silence, soon breaking into laughter “no, he’s not y/n” Natasha said as she came to scoop you up once again “then why is he looking at you the same way Maria does? Does he kiss you too?” Natasha couldn’t help but giggle, slightly sad because she was missing her ‘almost’ girlfriend. “Yep, she’s defiantly your daughter” Mason said, Natasha shot him daggers “is it cake time yet?” You said with a huff and a pout “yes baby, it’s cake time”

#marvel #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel fic #nat x reader #avengers #natasha x little!reader #natasha x daughter!reader #clint barton #blackhill #maria hill

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mc-i-r · 8 months

Text

Disposable Heroes

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four Ao3

A/N: Guys, I’m so sorry for the late update! Life has been crazy for me the past couple weeks but I hope that I can get back to writing more regularly. This chapter is the well-awaited Eddie pov, as well as a ton of backstory for him that I didn’t really plan on but it just kinda came out. This chapter is kinda rushed, I’m gonna be honest, but I wanted to get it out to you guys as soon as possible since its been awhile. There are gonna be some major warnings here so I’ll post them below. Take care of yourselves and stay safe, now enjoy!

Tw: homophobia, homophobic language, child abuse, domestic violence, referenced drug use, Eddie being incredibly gay

———

It’s a muggy Sunday morning, the summer sun burning through the last vestiges of chilled night air and frosted dewdrops as it rises from its slumber. Like the sun, Eddie rises as well. However, it’s with much less fanfare and grace due to the obnoxious pounding at his front door.

He groans dramatically, shoving his face in his pillow and willing whoever the fuck decided to bother him at—he glances at his alarm clock on the other side of the room, squinting to read the numbers—nine in the morning to go away. His wish must have pissed off some universal god because the knocking only gets louder, making the window above his desk rattle with every shake of the door.

With a sigh big enough to rival the windy intro of “Holy Diver”, he pulls himself to the door in a zombie-like state. Movements sluggish from his interrupted sleep, he misses the doorknob twice before finally turning it, throwing it open with newfound strength to find one Robin Buckley in all her glory. Her fist is raised and ready to knock again, her face the epitome of righteous fury as she glares at him.

“Uh, hey Buck. Whatcha doi—“ he begins, only to be interrupted by Robin shoving past him and barging into the trailer. He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face and pulling on his hair slightly before shutting the door.

Kids and their manners nowadays.

“Yeah, sure, come on in. Totally fine. I wasn’t sleeping or anything, noooo,” he says to himself before turning to face his intruder. Whatever Buckley is upset about seems serious, and from the icy look she’s giving him it also seems like it’s his fault. Her hands are on her hips like she’s in a Steve Harrington impersonation contest and plans on taking home a first place prize. Something in him squirms at the thought.

But, he is nothing if not a performer. So, of course, he puts on a show.

“Lady Buckley,” he declares in a posh British accent, bowing deeply with a flourish on his arm. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company on this fine morning?”

He’s expecting a fond eye roll, or a laugh, or huff, or something. He gets silence.

“Cut the bullshit, Eddie. We need to talk about Steve,” she demands.

Steve… Now isn’t that an interesting subject?

Now, Eddie has always been different. He was loud, and jumpy, and fidgety, and the other kids never wanted to be friends with him because they were scared. He was always covered in dirt, always barefoot because he either forgot to put on shoes or the ones he had were too small for his ever-changing feet. He would talk to himself, mutter little reminders under his breath or work through the questions plaguing his mind aloud because he just functioned better that way.

Then, at eleven, he found out just how different he really was. He was outside during recess when he fell off the monkey bars and scraped his hands and knees. He huddled on the ground, tears falling down his small cheeks because it hurt and his wounds felt like they were throbbing. Then a boy, James, ran up to him and asked him if he was okay. James had stark blond hair, a face full of freckles, and bright green eyes. He looked so concerned for Eddie, and was gentle when he picked up one of his hands to inspect the cuts littered there. It was that gentle touch that elicited a flutter of butterflies in his stomach, and ever since then Eddie knew.

When he had gotten home to the trailer that day, he felt confused. Other people in his class were constantly talking about who they “liked”; boys liking girls and girls liking boys. About how they would get all nervous around their crushes, and Eddie realized he had never felt that before. All of the girls in his class were just… girls to him. They never gave him that fluttery feeling James had. But… no one ever talked about boys liking boys. No one ever said if it was okay, so Eddie thought it must not be. That boys liking boys wasn’t okay. That he wasn’t okay.

It took awhile, but he finally confessed to Wayne that he liked boys, that he got all the little butterflies that boys were supposed to get about girls. Wayne shook his head and told him that he could feel butterflies for anyone he pleased, as long as they made him happy. They both cried that night, and ended up in a hug so tight they nearly fused together.

Since then, Eddie’s come to accept the fact that he’s gay. Has added it to his whole anti-conformist persona, even. So when high school hit he let himself finally be free. He joined Hellfire club, made friends with the upperclassmen who ran it, and learned all the intricacies of D&D that he never imagined he would. After two years, he met Gareth and Jeff who joined Hellfire much in the way he did. Then, Grant joined halfway through Eddie’s junior year and he quickly recruited him as well. He found his friends, his people, and he finally let himself be himself around them.

He told them he was gay after a long session of lazily practicing in Gareth’s garage and smoking, the weed having loosened both his limbs and his lips. They were all extremely chill with it, even after the weed had worn off. That, however, didn’t exempt them from making fun of him though.

Eddie was loitering in the hallway after school, waiting on Gareth to finish up a quiz he missed the week prior, when none other than Steve Harrington walked out of the pool room in nothing but those little speedos that leave zero to the imagination. Seriously, all those girls were right, holy shit. After he picked his jaw up off the floor, he noticed Steve was looking at him with that adorable little confused puppy look before a god damned smirk fell across his face. Eddie’s face, he knew, had to rival that of a Victorian nobleman fawning over a sliver of pale skin shown by a lady across the room with her face hidden by an elaborate fan because he was literally drooling for the man in front of him.

It got considerably worse when Steve leaned down to drink from a nearby water fountain, making Eddie’s mouth go completely dry with this blatant offering of ass right in his face. In hindsight, it might not have been an offering, per say, but it was definitely there and Eddie was definitely staring. So it really wasn’t a surprise that he jumped when Gareth tapped his shoulder, Eddie having not heard him come up behind him, and he turned on his heel so fast he’s surprised he didn’t get whiplash.

“Dude, you good?” Gareth asked. Eddie opened his mouth, squeaked out, “I’m fine” and immediately felt his face go up in flames. Gareth glanced over Eddie’s shoulder and he could see in slow motion the series of thoughts that crossed his mind. Gareth went from concerned to confused to understanding to smug so fast it was almost comical. When their eyes met, Eddie’s went wide.

“Don’t you dare say a word,” he hissed, and the smug look only intensified.

Once they got to his van, Gareth immediately rounded on him.

“Seriously? Steve Harrington?” Gareth teased. “Of all people, it had to be that douche?”

Eddie groaned and clenched his eyes shut. “I know, Garebear, now shut up before I push you out of the van.”

Of course, news about his little crush spread around his friend group like wildfire, and soon enough he was being teased by them relentlessly. Eddie knew his crush wouldn’t get very far, Steve was very clearly straight and in a happy relationship with Nancy Wheeler of all people. Still, Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about that smirk.

Just as his crush began to fade away, Steve showed up to school with a busted face and eye bags deep enough to rival shitty vampire Halloween make-up from a toddlers costume contest. Feelings came rushing back, the intense need to protect, to find out what happened and get justice for that pretty face.

Then it kept happening, and Steve showed up to school with a beat up face yet again. However, judging by his stumbling and droopy eyes, it came with a concussion this time. Just when Eddie was trying to figure out who did it, Billy Hargrove came stalking through the empty halls and all attention was focused on his scabbed knuckles. On the hungry glare he sent Steve’s way. On the way Steve shrank back a little on instinct.

And Eddie… Eddie just couldn’t leave well enough alone, now could he?

He walked up to Steve, brows furrowed. “Harrington?”

Harrington didn’t turn, eyes still focused on the spot where Billy had been before. Eddie tapped his shoulder. “Steve?”

He jumped that time, like Eddie had actually hit him, and spun to face him. Up close, his face looked a hell of a lot worse and Eddie had to suppress a wince just looking at him. Steve looked at him confused, though it was hard to tell between the swelling and assortment of bandages on his face.

“…Munson?” Steve began. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come up.”

He said it flippantly, with a wave of his hand towards his left ear like that explained everything. It didn’t, but Eddie felt like it wasn’t his place to push.

“You good, man? You look like you got in a fight with a dump truck and lost,” Eddie said. “Badly.”

He expected Steve to scoff and roll his eyes, push past him and hit his shoulder too hard to be an accident. He expected him to spit some barb and walk away, to leave Eddie there in the hallway alone. None of that happened, though.

Instead, Steve smiled. A little self-deprecating, but a smile nonetheless. He huffed a laugh.

“Make it a supercharged dump truck and you’ve got it right,” Steve joked at his own expense. It resulted in a shocked laugh bursting from Eddie’s lips, which he immediately stopped by smacking a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, pulling his hand away. “That’s not funny. I mean… your joke was, just not,”—he gestured to Steve’s… everything—“this.”

“It’s okay man, I know what you meant,” Steve said sincerely and Eddie doubted why he was ever called King Steve. The person who stood in front of him was the furthest thing from what those jocks supposedly worshiped that Eddie had to hide another bubble of laughter.

“Seriously, dude, did you even go to a doctor?” Eddie asked, and at Steve’s wince he knew the answer. He rolled his eyes and slung an arm around his shoulders, careful not to land too hard in case he was bruised there too, and led him down the hallway towards the nurse’s station.

“Uh,” Steve began. “Where are we going?”

“The nurse,” he explained. “Figured a look wouldn’t hurt, right?”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed a little under his arm, and Eddie decided to focus on him during their walk down the empty hallway. He noticed the way his hair bounced a little with every step, how a couple strands were threatening to fall from their perfectly coiffed positions. He noticed his moles and freckles, how he had a smattering of faint ones all over his face from time in the sun. He noticed how his nose was a little crooked now, with a bump on the bridge that wasn’t there before the weekend. He noticed how pretty his eyes were, with at least three different shades of brown all swirled together like melted chocolate with flecks of forest green nestled in the folds.

He noticed that Steve was looking at him.

They had come to a stop in front of the nurse, yet Eddie’s arm was still over his shoulders. He quickly retracted it, but Steve didn’t move away and neither did he.

“Well, this is your stop,” Eddie nearly whispered out. Steve smiled, just a small quirk of his lips, and his eyes flitted across Eddie’s face.

“Thanks, Eddie,” he started. Steve took a step backwards toward the station and did a little wave with his fingers that had no right being as endearing as it was. “See you around.”

With that, he disappeared behind the thick mahogany door and Eddie was left there alone, face full of flames and smiling like he was in fucking love with the guy.

Fuck, maybe he was a little bit in love with the guy.

That feeling didn’t waver, not even after seeing him in a skimpy sailor uniform as he scooped overpriced ice cream for toddlers in the Mall. Or, when he was pinning him to the rickety wall of the boathouse he was hiding in after seeing Chrissy murdered in front of him by some freaky wizard from an alternate dimension with a broken bottle to his beautifully freckled throat.

That feeling greatly intensified when he saw Steve take an honest to god bite out of a demonic bat and spit the flesh and blood out on the dried lakebed in the previously mentioned alternate dimension.

And, really, you can’t blame him for falling all the way when he found out exactly who dragged his half-dead body out of hell and saved his life.

So yeah, Steve was a very interesting subject indeed.

“Is… Is he okay?” Eddie questions as he straightens from his hunched position, head tilting to the side and making his bangs fall in his eyes. Robin throws her hands up with a mighty huff and a frustrated groan.

“Obviously not!” She exclaims. She starts pacing around his living room, back and forth in front of the coffee table. “He’s obviously not okay because you’ve been avoiding him and making him feel like shit for months and I’m actually really worried about him ‘cause he’s been doing stupid shit that can get him killed and I don’t know how much longer he can go on like this before it completely ruins him.”

As Robin rambles, her face turns a bright shade of pink. She finishes her speech, sucking in a deep breath as if she ran out of air. Eddie’s brows furrow.

“I haven’t been avoiding Steve,” he defends weakly. He hasn’t, not really. He just… he doesn’t want to get hurt.

Okay yes, Eddie is practically in love with the guy, but that doesn’t mean Steve feels the same about him. They’re friends, that’s it. Steve is going to find some beautiful girl and get married and have the houseful of kids he’s always wanted and Eddie will be here, still pining from afar. He knows it would be easier to just forget about him, and forget about the feelings clutching his heart like a starved hawk with its first fulfilling catch in months. That’s why he’s been slowly letting go over the past few weeks, trying—and failing—to get that stupid pretty boy out of his head. Of course, it’s not working, and every day he spends not talking to Steve feels like hell.

So no, he’s not avoiding Steve. He just doesn’t think he could survive it if he confesses and Steve rejects him completely. Staying away means he won’t accidentally reveal his feelings for the man, and judging by how much he’s feeling, it wouldn’t be very hard for that scraggly cat to come clawing and screeching out of the proverbial bag.

Robin, however, thinks the opposite because according to the look she’s giving him, she says he absolutely fucking has.

Eddie sighs. “Okay, maybe I have just a little bit but it’s not—“

Eddie freezes, stomach plummeting as Robin's rambling words take purchase in his mind. She said Steve was doing something stupid, something that could kill him. Flashes of a night now a distant memory play in his mind, one filled with panicked breaths, stilted tears, and a bloody bat with nails.

“Robin… What do you mean by ‘stupid shit’?” Eddie asks tentatively. Part of him wants to know the answer, while part of him fears the idea of ever finding out. Robin only gives him a confused look and crosses her arms.

“Eddie, that’s totally not the point of this conversation and you know it—“ Eddie cuts her off by waving his hands.

“Robin! Just…” he trails off. Should he tell her about Steve? He promised he wouldn’t but…

“Okay, I have to tell you something about Steve but please please don’t tell him I told you because I promised him I wouldn’t but if you also know something about him then I think you should know about this too,” he rushes out, words tumbling fast out of his mouth as his lungs scream for air. Robin’s icy glare has melted a bit, turning into one of anxiety and caution.

He sighs and flops down on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees as he looks down at his hands. He feels more than sees Robin sit next to him and he knows he has her attention.

“What happened, Eddie?” She prompts, and he takes it as a sign to continue.

“I had a visit from Steve awhile back, around four or five days ago,” he begins. “It was early in the morning and I couldn’t sleep so I was writing notes for a new campaign idea in the living room. I could feel that something was… off, so I looked out the window and there he was.”

He ran a hand over his face, pushing his bangs back and pulling on the ends. He glances over at Robin to find her looking at him. He squeezes his eyes closed for a moment before looking back at her.

“He wasn’t all there, Robin. Like… like he was trapped in his mind or something. I thought,” he huffs a deprecating laugh, “for a moment there, I thought he was cursed.”

He doesn’t mention that the image found its way in his head and can’t seem to find its way out, like a stubborn housefly who keeps banging against the glass hoping to be freed. The thought of Steve floating—eyes rolled back in his head while his lids flutter and his limbs shudder and break one by one—has kept him awake on more nights than he can count. The thought of him being subjected to his worst nightmares given life, all the lies that he tells himself turned to truth. The thought of Eddie being completely helpless, watching him die in agony in front of him.

He doesn’t mention that every night since then, he’s called Steve. He needed to hear his voice, to know he was okay. To know he was alive. He never got a call back.

“I got him to come inside but he didn’t stay long. Something spooked him, I think, I just… I don’t know, it was really weird. Like…” he trails off, unable to find the words.

“Like he was in fight or flight mode?” Robin suggests, and he nods.

“Pure instinct.”

Robin groans. “Shit, this is worse than I thought.”

“Wait, did he tell you?” He asks. Steve was so insistent on Eddie not telling her—made him promise, in fact—so why…?

“Well… after a very long, very emotional, and very vulnerable conversation, yes. He told me on his own terms though, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she supplies. “He… He didn’t tell me a ton of details, though. Not… Not like that.”

There’s a pause as Robin clenches her eyes closed and looks away from him.

“I didn’t know it was that bad,” her voice comes out just barely above a whisper, something he wouldn’t have heard if he wasn’t right next to her. Eddie stays silent, unwilling to break the solemn mood. Robin, however, misses that message entirely as she smacks his arm.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me, doofus?!” She accuses, giving him a half-hearted glare that is no less threatening. Eddie holds his hands up in surrender, unable to hide the exasperated look on his face.

“He made me promise!!” Eddie defends. “Plus he gave me those damn puppy dog eyes and I couldn’t say no.”

“He is really good at that, especially when he wants something. He says he has no clue but I bet you he does,” Robin whispers, almost conspiratory as if they’re sharing a terrible secret. Eddie can’t help but smile and shake his head. Screw Harrington and his stupid pretty eyes.

“Did he say anything else while he was here?” Robin asks after a moment of silence.

“No, that was the only thing he said really, other than an absent ‘I’m fine’ before he bolted out the door. It was a very uh… one-sided conversation,” Eddie explains. “He mostly gave only one or two word answers before he panicked and ran.”

“I’m gonna assume he didn’t tell you why he left?” She asks, and at the shake of his head she curses. “Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed.”

Robin shifts beside him, raising her hand to mindlessly chew on her thumbnail. He thinks the conversation is over. Or, rather, wishes it were over.

That universal god must really hate Eddie today because Robin roughly shakes her head and waves her hands around, letting out a huff.

“Okay, one problem at a time. That was totally not the point of this little talk and you know it, Munson,” she admonishes. “Why. Are. You. Avoiding. Steve?”

She punctuates each word with a, quite literal, punch to the arm. Eddie reels back, dramatically clutching his bruised arm and gives her a fake glare.

“Ow!!” He rubs his arm. For her incredibly bony arms, she really can pack a punch. He’s only half joking that it hurts.

“Answer the question!”

“Fine fine…” he takes a deep breath, knee bouncing with building anxiety before he stands up, unable to quell the urge to move. He paces twice in front of the coffee table before he has the nerve to look at her waiting gaze.

“So, as you know, I am a raging homosexual,” he states, and at his pause, she nods. “And I miiiiiight have a teeny weeny, itsy bitsy, enormous crush on him.”

The end of his sentence is rushed out, words jumbled together as he screws his eyes closed and waits for… whatever Robin’s response is going to be. He waits for five seconds. Then ten. Then twenty-five because yes he’s counting. If he knows one thing about Robin Buckley it’s that she doesn’t know when to stop talking so silence is a very rare occurrence for her and now its been a whole minute and something must be wrong so he opens his eyes to find her—

The only word that even remotely comes close to encompassing the expression on her face is seething.

He instinctively takes a step back.

“Edward Lee Munson you better explain yourself right fucking now or I swear to every god out there that I will rip out your spleen and feed it to the neighborhood dogs before you take a step out that door,” Robin all but growls out, eyes icy and cold as they stare through him. He’s quick to explain because he really quite values his spleen, thank you very much.

“Okay, okay, geez I get it! Fine,” he huffs. “I’ve been avoiding Steve because it’s hard to be around him.”

Robin only raises an eyebrow. Eddie groans. He really wishes he didn’t have to explain his big, fat, gay love this early in the morning.

“It’s hard because he’s so…. So Steve all the time. He’s so kind and caring and hot— god, Birdie, he’s so fucking hot—“

“Okay, yeah, I didn’t need to know that,” Robin interrupts.

“Sorry,” he says, a bit sheepish. “Every little smile he gives me feels like a swarm of butterflies are fighting horde-style to get out of my stomach. I just…

“I think I’m in love with him,” Eddie confesses. The way her eyes blow wide is comical, and he’s half expecting them to pop and burst like they do in cartoons.

“But I know better,” he gives her a sad smile. “I know that I’m not special, he doesn’t mean it like that. Like I want it to. And…. And I know he never will.

“I thought that distancing myself would make the feelings go away, make it… I don’t know, hurt less? But not seeing Steve at all… fuck, it hurts worse than dying and I know what that feels like. Now I don’t even have him as a friend,” he scoffs at himself, shakes his head a little and focuses on a framed picture of him, Steve, Robin, and Dustin from graduation on the wall. Focuses on how Steve’s arm is wrapped around his shoulders, hand gripping his upper arm as he smiles shyly at the camera. How Eddie himself is leaning into his side, tucked under his arm as if he belongs there. As if he’ll ever belong there. He looks back at Robin.

“But this is what’s best. I can’t have my stupid heart feeling things my brain knows it shouldn’t,” Eddie ends his little speech by flopping back down on the couch. Part of him regrets telling her, but another small, itty bitty part is almost grateful.

Eddie’s always had a way of caring too much, even from a young age. Wayne could tell you better than anyone that Eddie has always had a soft side. He could tell you that Eddie refused to let him kill any of the bugs that got into the trailer when the weather turned cold and insisted that they be put outside under the trailer where it was at least a little warmer. He could tell you that every time Eddie would see another person cry, he would too.

He’s just always been like that, so carrying this around with him everyday? It was becoming too much to bear, having to put on a face around everyone so no one could tell. So no one could see how it was breaking him inside. Wearing him down to the bone. Slowly, slowly killing him.

Robin sighs beside him and he had almost forgotten she was there. Her voice is quiet and strangely gentle as she speaks.

“Why do you think that, Eddie?”

What?

“What?” He asks incredulously and knows his face is in a similar state to his voice.

“Why do you think Steve wouldn’t like you like that? Has he said anything to make you think he wouldn’t?” She clarifies, which really doesn’t clarify anything at all for him because what?

“Um… are we talking about the same Steve? You know, Steve Harrington, Hawkins’ resident ladies man? Why the fuck would you think I’d have a shot?” He explains. “He’s so painfully straight and I am so painfully not, Robin.”

Robin just looks at him like she’s trying to read his mind. Or, rather, push a thought into his mind. Waiting for something to click. It doesn’t. Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Besides, Steve never tried to talk to me about the whole distance thing, so I just—“

“You know what happens when people assume things, Eddie,” Robin interrupts.

“—figured that he didn’t mind,” Eddie finishes with a glare. Robin closes her eyes and takes a breath as if calming herself. She pinches her nose, right between her eyes like Steve always does when he’s frustrated or tired, and turns to him. She takes his hands in hers, and her face is only a mere mask of calm, the tumbling waves of anger rolling just under the surface.

“Eddie,” she begins. “Have you ever thought of the possibility that Steve doesn’t talk about his feelings? That he would keep it all bottled up inside like he does with literally everything else?”

Well, when she puts it like that…

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Robin agrees. “I only found out about this whole… thing two days ago and that was only because I just so happened to catch him falling asleep at work. He wouldn’t have told me if I didn’t ask him, I know that for sure. He… Eddie, he honestly believes that this is all his fault. That he’s the one that fucked everything up between you and he kids.”

Eddie’s brain screeches to a halt. “Wait, what do the kids have to do with this?”

“You haven’t told them anything?” Robin asks, eyes going a little wide.

“Have I told a bunch of teenagers—whose opinions I regretfully respect—that I have a crush on their babysitter? No, I have not.”

“Okay, yeah that was a stupid question, sorry,” she amends. “Just… the kids are avoiding Steve and I can’t think of a reason why.”

“They’re what!? Wait, why haven’t I heard of this until now?” Eddie exclaims. Robin gives him a look that makes him deflate a little. “Let me guess, you only found out two days ago?”

“Bingo, we have a winner!” Robin fake cheers, raising her arms in a mock-celebratory fashion. She drops them with a huff. “They haven’t talked to him in weeks, Eddie, and I think it’s because you have been avoiding him.”

Her tone isn’t accusatory, but it still makes him feel like shit.

“They must have picked up the sense that something was going on between you two and assumed they should be avoiding him too,” she suggests. Eddie leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I don’t get how they could think that, though. I mean, Steve has been nothing but good to them for years now.”

“I know,” Robin agrees. “But they’re kids. Stupid, dumb, ungrateful kids, but they’re still kids.”

Eddie drops his head in his hands, pressing hard on his eyes until spots form behind his eyelids.

“I really fucked this up, didn’t I?” He asks it rhetorically, but Robin gives a noise of agreement anyway. “How do I fix this, Birdie?”

“You could start by talking to him,” Robin suggests.

Now isn’t that a terrifying thought?

Because knowing you have feelings for someone is one thing, but telling them? That’s something so far out of the realm of possibility for him that he’s never even thought about considering it.

“Have you lost your fucking mind, Buckley?” Eddie exclaims, looking over at her with wide eyes. “I’d like to keep all my teeth if you don’t mind. I mean, I know I’m not your type and everything but some poor schmuck would probably like to look at this face one more time before it's beat all black and blue.”

Robin only rolls her eyes at his rambling—which is rather hypocritical of her if you ask him, since she seems to treat rambling as an Olympic sport she plans on winning every time she opens her mouth. She grabs his face between her hands and honest to god shakes him.

“I can’t tell you everything, but I’m telling you to trust me and talk to him,” she practically demands, giving him a pointed look much like the one from before. Except he still doesn’t know what it means, as that final piece has yet to click into place.

He nods in her hold, partially afraid of her now, and she releases him.

“We need to fix this. Now,” Eddie insists. He looks over at her. “We need to talk to the kids.”

Eddie stands up, running to his room and groaning at the mess he left. Tossing his sheets and blankets back on the bed, he reaches under his bed for the walkie he knows he last saw under there three days ago. Except, it’s not there. He stands up, scrunches his eyebrows, and thinks.

Let’s see… it was next to the keychain that was on top of the VHS sitting on the books on the corner of the desk, then he moved it when he had to answer one of Lucas’ questions which he did while he walked around the trailer and he laid it down when he finished to get some cheese from the fridge, meaning—

Eddie runs back to the kitchen, finding the walkie on top of the fridge, right where he thought it would be.

“Got ya!” He grabs it and runs back to the living room where Robin is waiting very impatiently.

“Where even was that?” She asks but he ignores her, electing to set the frequency so he can talk to the kids all at once instead of answering her. He presses the button.

“This is Eddie the Banished calling an emergency Hellfire meeting pronto,” he orders into the speaker. “I repeat, emergency Hellfire meeting.”

He waits for a response. One minute. Two minutes. Three—

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Eddie mumbles, pressing the button again. “Over.”

Immediately, Dustin responds. “Hear you loud and clear, Eddie. Is this a code red situation? Over.”

“Nope, not a code red. More of a uh…” he glances over at Robin who shrugs. “Code yellow? I think. Over.”

“What the hell is ‘code yellow’? We don’t even have one of those,” comes Erica’s, as always, sarcastic remark. Eddie can faintly hear Lucas yelling in the background.

“Munson, you better not be shitting with us.”

“I promise you, Red, I wouldn’t. Not about this.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, people! You’re supposed to say ‘over’ when you’re done talking! Over.”

“Shove it, Dustybuns, the adults are talking.”

Eddie has to hold the walkie away from him at Dustin’s responding shriek. He presses a hand over his eyes. These kids are going to kill him one day.

“Guys, this is serious. Just get your asses over to my trailer as soon as possible. Robin’s already here, does someone have Little Byers and Supergirl?”

“I’ve got them. Over and out,” Mike responds.

“Erica and I are on our way. Over and out,” Lucas says.

“Be there in fifteen. Over and out,” Dustin declares. Eddie glances at Robin, sharing equally nervous and worried looks. This is not going to be fun.

Thirty minutes later, all of the kids are cramped in Eddie’s living room. Lucas, Max, El, and Mike are scrunched together on the couch, while Will and Dustin sit on the floor in front of them. Erica claimed Wayne’s recliner as soon as her and Lucas got there, refusing to move for the older teens.

Robin is standing next to him, hands on her hips again—really driving home the whole “Steve is my platonic soulmate” bit—as he stands there with his arms crossed. The two of them remind Eddie of disappointed parents about to tell off their kids, which, in reality, isn't too far off.

“Okay, what the hell?” Dustin asks, still breathless from the trek there. “I literally just got home an hour ago. Why did you call us and make us bike all the way here in the heat?”

“Because you deserve it for being shitheads,” Eddie defends and rolls his eyes. He’s met with a cacophony of dweeby teen voices as they retaliate.

“What did we do this time?”

“What?! We didn’t do anything!”

“What did Dustin do, now?”

“Me? Why am I the one being blamed? I wasn’t even here!”

“Because you’re too damn nosey, dude.”

“Ouch, Lucas. Ouch.”

“Hey!” Eddie yells, clapping his hands to get their attention. It startles them all enough to quit talking over each other and look back up at him. “Okay, I’m just going to get to the point. Why are you all avoiding Steve?”

Mike gives him a confused look and crosses his arms, his expression the epitome of teenage angst.

“We thought you hated Steve, dude. You would always leave the room whenever he was around with some shitty excuse so we just decided to do the same,” Mike answers. Dustin nods from his spot on the floor.

“Yeah, we all thought he did something or said something to you since every time we brought him up, you’d shut the conversation down somehow. It just… naturally progressed from not talking about him to not talking to him either,” Dustin explains.

“Steve stopped showing up to things, too. He used to help me practice but he’s not shown up in weeks,” Lucas adds.

“Mom’s gotten really worried about him. He’s not shown up to dinner in a while, either,” Dustin chimes in. He shrugs. “We just thought the feeling was mutual.”

Eddie clenches his eyes closed and throws his head back. Fuck, this is worse than he thought. He hears Robin shift beside him, and knows firsthand the look she’s giving them right now.

“Have any of you even considered asking Steve about this?” Robin asks accusatively. “Or even talking to him about anything other than rides or movie nights?”

Silence falls over the room, so thick and suffocating that Eddie briefly prefers the air of the Upside Down to this. He pulls his hair, scrunching down on the floor and balancing on the pads of his feet.

“This is all my fault,” he groans, twisting strands of hair frustratedly.

“It is,” Robin agrees and ignores the glare Eddie sends her way for that. “But we can still fix this.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Mike asks.

“Why does Eddie look three seconds away from strangling himself with his hair?” Max hesitates, sounding the most cautious he’s ever heard her. Eddie groans and avoids eye contact with the group.

“The reason I’m avoiding Steve isn’t because I hate him. It’s uh… quite the opposite, actually,” he explains, nervously fidgeting with his rings and pulling a thick strand of hair to hide his face. He glances at Robin, who gives him an overly enthusiastic thumbs up, and he rolls his eyes.

Max and Erica give him equally smug smirks while Will looks at him with wide, understanding eyes. The rest of the group, however, look confused.

“Wait, then why are you avoiding him?” Dustin asks.

“Dude, that makes zero sense,” Mike counteracts. El just looks lost, almost like she’s trying to read his mind. Which… he really wouldn’t be surprised if she could at this point. Eddie sighs.

“That’s not the point,” Eddie redirects. “The point is that an issue with me and Steve shouldn’t affect you guys’ relationship with him.”

“Yeah,” Robin agrees, and he deftly ignores the pointed look she sends his way. “Steve has been there for all of you for years.

“Dustin, wasn’t it Steve who helped you catch D’art when he escaped from your cellar? He bought pounds of meat for you to lure a demodog away with, then fought a pack of them by himself to keep you safe. Steve put himself in the line of fire again against said demodogs in the tunnels after he was beaten unconscious by Billy, then sacrificed himself to Russians just so you and Erica could make it out alive a year later.”

Dustin clamps his mouth shut from its gaping position—likely from him wanting to defend himself from the truth—and has the decency to look sheepish. Eddie turns his gaze to Lucas.

“Lucas, wasn’t it Steve who helped you train for basketball when you started to show an interest in it? He practiced with you every week, even after a long shift at work or when he felt like shit, just because you asked. Steve protected you against Billy because it was the right thing to do, and took a beating so you wouldn’t. Not many people can say they’d do that for someone else, especially not against anyone as vicious as Hargrove,” Eddie adds. Lucas drops his head in his hands, knee bouncing from his place on the couch.

“Max,” Robin begins. “Steve checked up on you every day after Billy died. He would bring you food or ice cream or a distraction, but he was always there. He would drive you to the arcade just to cheer you up, let you beat him at Dig Doug and Pinball just to see you smile. Steve was terrified to let you be the bait for Vecna, he… he kept telling me that he wished it was him instead. That he should be the sacrifice, not you.”

Robin wipes her eyes where they begin to tear up, and Eddie uses the pause to look at Mike. He still has his arms crossed, but the smartass look on his face has dwindled a little.

“Mike, I know you don’t like Steve because of him and Nancy, but you can’t hold onto that grudge forever. What happened between them had nothing to do with you, so there's no need to be mad at him for it,” Eddie states. Mike isn’t looking at him now, and something tells Eddie that the kid just needs a reality check. Hopefully, this will work. “Steve has been protecting you from the beginning, even when you were more than hostile to him. You’ve at least got to give him credit for that.”

Eddie looks around, sees the morose expressions on the kids’ faces.

“Steve has picked you all up countless times from Hellfire, waiting the entire session out in the parking lot while wasting away in his car. He was there rain or shine, snow or sleet, and he never missed a day. Not once,” he states.

Eddie first found Steve’s presence after Hellfire to be confusing, an anomaly. He didn’t know that the Steve the kids talked about was the same Steve he had a debilitating crush on in high school, not until he saw him waiting outside after the first session the kids attended, leaning against his maroon BMW like a Calvin Klein model. A ball of anxiety formed in his stomach at the sight, because one thing about Steve Harrington was that he’s unpredictable. Eddie just didn’t know if it was good or bad yet.

“You know, usually when people graduate they tend to stay away from high school, not willingly come back,” Eddie teased.

His words seemed to spark some life into Steve, as he jolted from his relaxed position against the hood to stand firmly beside his car. Steve ran a hand through his hair, and looked Eddie up and down.

“You’d probably know more about that if you managed to actually graduate, Munson,” Steve quipped, but it wasn’t mean. He had a smile on his face, and the air around him was friendly. Some of the anxiety churning in Eddie’s gut eased at the sight.

“Besides, who says I’m here willingly?” Steve asked rhetorically, as Dustin made his appearance by running up to him and immediately began talking his ears off about the new campaign. Steve turned his full attention on the boy, nodding along to certain comments even when Eddie knew for sure Steve didn’t know what the hell Henderson was talking about. The other kids soon crowded around the former jock, all talking so incredibly fast that Eddie was surprised the sound barrier survived their cracking voices.

Eddie watched as Steve glanced at him over the kids’ heads, giving him a loose smile and a shrug as if saying, ‘what can ya do?’

Soon, all the gremlins piled into Steve’s fancy car, still talking and gesturing wildly with their hands. Eddie had a passing thought that he should get Steve some earplugs or something to at least help drown out the noise. He immediately shook his head at the thought and jumped in his old, beat up van, driving home to an empty trailer and trying desperately to forget Steve Harrington existed.

“He always waits until the excitement starts to wear off before he takes you all home, letting you talk to each other for nearly an hour after each session despite the fact he never has a clue what you’re talking about. He always listens to you guys, no matter what,” Eddie supplies. “Did you guys know he has mixtapes for each of you?”

At the question, they all look at him with varying degrees of confusion and an all-too-late realization. Eddie huffs, while Robin mutters something under her breath that sounds a lot like, ‘of course they didn’t.’

“There’s one for each of you, filled with songs you like or mentioned liking at some point despite some of them not being his own taste. He listens to you, all of you, and it fucking hurts to know you don’t see that,” he exposes, and part of him regrets letting a bit of his anger out. Though, the kids need to know this is serious, that you can’t go through life assuming the worst in people, so if being angry is what it takes then so be it.

The kids have various emotions on their faces, ashamed and regretful being the two most prominent. Dustin clears his throat and looks up at Eddie, flicks his eyes to Robin, and returns them to his lap.

“I… I didn’t realize he did so much for us,” Dustin quietly admits, and a small part of Eddie cheers at finally teaching the kid a thing or two about humility.

“We’ve been taking advantage of him for… for so long,” Lucas breathes out. Max nods morosely beside him, and Will raises a shaky hand to cover his mouth.

Mike rolls his eyes, still petulantly crossing his arms. “Why should we even care about him? All he’s probably doing is wallowing in his fancy house or something.”

He says it with a layer of snark so thick, all the kids turn to him with varying levels of bitchy glares. Eddie, however, can tell his attitude is a mask, a way for him to hide how he’s truly feeling to prevent from being too vulnerable. From being too open. Eddie knows a lot about that.

It started when Eddie was four and he scraped his knee on the harsh gravel outside his parents’ run-down home in Kentucky. Tears rolled down his chubby cheeks as he ran inside to tell his mom, who he knew would take care of him. She told him to play outside, and not come in until she told him so, but his knee really hurt and he was scared they would have to cut it off if it bled too much. At least, that’s what Charlie—a kid who lived two streets over—said they would do.

When he stepped over the threshold, something felt off. The house was quiet, more so than normal, and it set him on edge. The TV was filled with static that grated on his little ears, and he covered them with his hands as he made his way over to turn it off. He picked up the antenna off the floor, wondering how it got knocked off the top of the TV in the first place. He looked around the living room, finding it in a similar state of disarray. He followed the trail of broken things before him; the overturned coffee table, a spilled ashtray, a stray pillow, and the chair his dad always sat on, pushed far out of its normal place. He questioned who could have messed up his house like this, leaving a big mess behind.

He found his answer when he ventured into the kitchen, just a few short steps from the living room, and found his mother laying on the floor. She was on her stomach, arms splayed out as if she tried to catch her fall and head turned to look at the doorway where little Eddie stood. Her eyes were closed but she was still breathing, the floral pattern of her dress moving with each breath. Shards of ceramic were spread out around her, littered with droplets of dark blood that spilled from a cut on her forehead. It dripped down the side of her face, along the curve of her cheek and onto the floor where it formed a small puddle. Her skin was pale in the artificial light of the house, the soft yellows doing nothing to soften the tones of her ashen face.

“Mama!” He ran up to her, falling to his knees beside her still body. He shook her, trying to get her eyes to open, but all it rewarded him was a pained grunt. His eyes welled with tears again, this time for his Mama, but nothing he was doing was working.

A shadow fell over the floor and he looked up to find his father blocking the light from the gold-colored light fixture above the kitchen table. His face was stern and dirty looking, his stubble well past the point of a five o’clock shadow and leaning more towards a sleazy strip club owner. There was a smear of blood on his face from his hand, which he noticed was bruised around the knuckles. However, the sight of what was in his other hand made him freeze, entire body going stock still.

In his father’s left hand were the remnants of the broken plate on the floor, the jagged edges cutting into his skin where he gripped it tightly. Matching blood littered the edge, and a splatter of the dark liquid traveled up his hairy arm and disappeared into his rolled up flannel sleeve.

He looked up at the figure before him, and the tears spilled over against his will.

“What happened to Mama?” He asked. “Why won’t she wake up?”

“‘Cause she’s sorry, son,” his dad answered, throwing down the ceramic and causing it to shatter against the floor. Eddie flinched, and his father caught the motion. He hadn’t been able to quell it, hadn’t learned how to hide his fear yet. The man scowled at him, lip curling as he grabbed Eddie’s arm and hauled him off the floor in one solid motion.

“She’s weak, Edward,” he began. This close, Eddie could see the redness of his eyes, and the deep purple bags that hang underneath. “Just like all women. Do you wanna be weak, boy?”

Eddie shook his head, and his father gripped his arm tighter. “Answer me!”

“N-No sir,” Eddie muttered, voice small and weak in the face of his father.

“Then stop that fucking crying, don’t be a sissy. I ain’t raising a fucking faggot, Edward.”

With that, his dad dropped his arm and stumbled into his bedroom down the hall. As soon as his figure was gone, Eddie turned back to his mom, crouching next to her. Sometime when his dad was talking, her eyes had opened and her breathing grew stronger. Eddie felt like it was nothing short of a small miracle.

“Mama, are you okay?”

“‘M okay, baby,” she replied, pushing herself off the floor with a grunt. She sat up with Eddie’s help, and frowned when she saw the reddened mark on his arm. “I shouldn’t have let him do that to you.”

“You were hurt, Mama. ‘S not your fault,” Eddie reasoned, pulling his arm out of her grasp to wipe at some of the blood on her face. “You’re bleeding, too.”

“Oh,” she began, reaching up to touch the wound as if she hadn’t realized it was there. “It’s nothing, Eddie, just a little scratch. Mama will be okay, promise.”

She didn’t look okay, this close, with her sunken-in face and slowly forming black eye Eddie hadn’t been able to see before. But his Mama was always right. Always.

“Pinky promise?” Eddie asked, holding out his little pinky. His Mama smiled, and raised a shaky hand to lace her pinky with his.

“Pinky promise.”

A year later, he was riding in the car with his Mama, backpack at his feet. She was dressed nicer than he ever remembered her being; a baby blue, short-sleeved dress hugged her slender frame, paired with white heels, white bug-eyed sunglasses, and a sheer white scarf she had tied around her hair. Her suitcase was in the trunk, but his father was nowhere to be found.

“Mama?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Where’s Dad?” He asked. His Mama cleared her throat before she answered, voice shaky.

“He’s not coming with us, Eddie,” she said. “We’re going somewhere far away from him. Somewhere new.”

“Where?”

“Have a look for yourself, honey,” she said, pointing to the window. Eddie crawled up on his knees to look out, seeing a sign welcoming them to a place called Hawkins. He sat back down in his seat, looking back at his mother.

“What’s here?” He asked. His mother smiled.

“Your Uncle Wayne. He’s my brother,” she supplied. “We’re just going to pay him a little visit, okay?”

A few short minutes later, they were parked in front of a small trailer, a gruff looking man waiting for them on the newly-built porch. They got out of the car and Eddie grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders before his Mama led him up the steps.

“Eddie, this is Uncle Wayne,” his Mama informed. He looked up at her and she nudged his arm, urging him to say something.

“H-Hello, sir,” Eddie greeted, sticking out his small hand for the man to shake. Wayne huffed a laugh and crouched down, causing Eddie to take a step back on instinct, before he took his hand and shook it.

“Nice to meet ya, Eddie,” Wayne began. He let go of his hand but stayed crouched. “You can call me Wayne, or Uncle Wayne, or Uncle, or—hell, Todd for all I care. Just none of that ‘sir’ business, you got me?”

Eddie smiled and nodded. “Sorry, si—uh, Uncle Wayne.”

“That’s better, boy,” Wayne said, smiling as he clapped his shoulder softly. Wayne had kind eyes, blue and soft around the edges. They weren’t mean like his fathers. Instead, they looked exactly like his Mama’s—save for a few extra wrinkles around the edges. “Why don’t you go on inside while your Mama and I talk?”

Eddie did as he was told, walking in the trailer and taking in his surroundings. It was small, smaller than his house, but cozy. A couple mugs were hung up on the wall, paired with three trucker hats and a framed picture he was too far away to see. An old, floral patterned couch sat on the long wall of the living room, a coffee table in front littered with an opened can of Coke and a half-eaten bag of chips. The windows were open to let light in, making the space feel much bigger than it actually was.

He stepped into the kitchen, just a pace away from the living room, and took in the red-toned wooden cabinets and cream countertops stained with coffee rings yet to be wiped away. There was a hallway to his left where he found a single bedroom and a bathroom. The bathroom was small, just big enough for a stand-up shower, toilet, and sink. A single toothbrush sat in the cup on the side of the sink along with a bar of soap and an almost empty tube of toothpaste. On the other side of the sink though, Eddie noticed an unopened toothbrush. It was blue and had sparkles throughout its plastic. At the bottom, there was a small dog sticker and it made him smile a little.

His attention soon wandered to the bedroom, where he found a little twin-sized bed and tons of boxes. The bed was bare, save for a folded up quilt near the bottom with a pillow on top. The boxes were filled with various things; clothes, books, a cassette player, shoes, and tons of other small trinkets. He sat on the ground, pulling a box closer to look through it. There were thin books near the top labeled ‘Hawkins High’, and he flipped through it to find pictures upon pictures of people. He read the names, sounding them out to see if he could get them right. Some of them were weird, though, and he quickly put the book down to look at something else.

There was a box of cassette tapes to his left and Eddie scooted over to look through it. There were tons of names he didn’t recognize as he rifled through the plastic cases, though one stood out to him.

He picked up the Fleetwood Mac tape along with the cassette player from a box near the closet, plugging it into the wall and putting the tape in. He eyed the front door, seeing it still firmly closed. Just then, the tape clicked, causing him to jump, and he pressed play.

The familiar voice filled his ears, and he smiled. He and his Mama used to listen to Fleetwood Mac back home in the kitchen while they made supper, singing along with the tape or the radio to fill the house with music. The sound of it brought a smile to his face, and he closed his eyes as he listened to the words.

Engrossed in the music, he barely registered that the front door had both opened and closed until a soft hand was laid on his shoulder.

“Eddie, baby, I have to go,” his Mama said, and he jumped to his feet. He kinda felt bad about going through Uncle Wayne’s things without him being there, but if they were leaving then he didn’t think he would get too mad.

“Where are we going now, Mama?” Eddie wondered. His mother’s face turned pinched, and she lifted her glasses to look at him directly. She wore make-up, much more than she usually did, and as she crouched down Eddie could see it was barely disguising a bruise along the top of her right cheekbone.

“Eddie, only I’m leaving,” his Mama corrected. “You’re staying here with Wayne.”

At that, his whole world fell apart.

His mother, his Mama, was leaving him. It didn’t seem fair that he couldn’t go with her, that he couldn’t stay with his Mama like he wanted to. Wayne seemed nice from their brief interaction, but he didn’t know him. Not like he knew his Mama.

His stomach sank to his feet, and it felt as if someone poured ice-cold water over him. His eyes grew wide as tears welled, spilling over his cheeks.

“Why, Mama?” Eddie sobbed, wiping at his face because he wasn’t supposed to cry. “Why can’t I go with you?”

“You just can’t, Eddie, I’m sorry,” she stated. It felt hollow, her explanation. Like she was hiding something.

“But why?”

“Because you just can’t, Eddie!” She snapped, and Eddie’s breath caught. She sounded mad, but Eddie had never heard her get mad, not at him at least. He didn’t know what he did, only that she wouldn’t let him go with her.

She took a breath and cupped his cheek. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“But- But you can’t leave me!” Eddie wailed. “Mama, please!”

She opened her arms and he fell into them, clinging hard enough to deem separating impossible. She hugged him back just as tight, and Eddie saw evidence of tear tracks streaking through her caked-on foundation.

“I know, baby, I don’t want to leave you either,” his Mama soothed. “But Wayne is going to take care of you, okay?”

Eddie looked over her shoulder to see Wayne leaning against one of the kitchen countertops, smiling sadly at him. Eddie screwed his eyes shut and buried his face in his mothers neck.

“You’re gonna come back, right?” Eddie mumbled before he moved to look at her. “Pinky promise you’re gonna come back for me.”

His Mama cried and wiped at her cheeks, smearing the make-up and making the bruises appear fresh on her pale skin. She held out a pinky, and Eddie laced his with hers.

“I promise, Eddie,” she said, leaning forward to kiss his forehead before getting to her feet. Her and Wayne shared a hug on her way out, and Eddie caught Wayne wiping his eyes too. He and his uncle stood on the porch as his mom drove away, waving until her taillights disappeared around the curve of the road.

That was the last time he saw his mother.

Unfortunately, it was not the last he saw his father.

He stayed with Wayne for two months until his father found him. They had grown accustomed to each other in that time, Eddie having warmed up to another parental figure and Wayne having gotten the basics down for caring for another being. Wayne insisted he start school in the fall, and he was two weeks in when all hell broke loose.

His father rolled up to the trailer in a fancy-looking sports car Eddie knew his dad didn’t have the money for. He stumbled out on the gravel, banging on the door until Wayne pulled it open.

“The hell are you doin’ here?” Wayne asked, standing firm in the doorway.

“I’m here to get my son,” his father demanded. He pushed past him and stormed the place until he found Eddie in the only bedroom—Wayne having set up a cot in the living room.

Eddie hadn’t expected to see his father again, mostly because he didn’t think the man really cared for him. That was prominent when he snatched Eddie off the bed and hauled him out of his room.

“Dad?” Eddie questioned. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m taking you away from here,” his father responded, glaring at Wayne who stood blocking the doorway.

“You’re not takin’ him anywhere, Al,” Wayne countered. He crossed his arms, looking far more intimidating than Eddie ever imagined. “He’s happy here.”

“He’ll be even more happy with me,” his dad insisted. “With his real family.”

“Son of a bitch, Al, I am his real family!” Wayne yelled. “You ain’t got the means for takin’ care of that boy, and you know it.”

His father stood toe to toe with his uncle, glaring at him. He whispered something Eddie was too far away to hear, but it made Wayne deflate completely.

Eddie didn’t want to leave. He found that these past two months with Wayne were filled with more happy memories than he ever remembered having back home. Wayne was nice, a little rough around the edges but he was a big softy inside. He cared about people, that much was evident in the way he was constantly helping people out around the park. He was a good person, so leaving him felt like his Mama all over again.

“Come on, son,” his father demanded, grabbing his arm and dragging him out of the trailer. Eddie looked back at Wayne, eyes stinging. He waved, and Wayne waved back. He watched the trailer from the backseat until he couldn’t tell which one was theirs, only facing the front when his dad snapped at him.

They rode for hours, far past the Indiana state line, until they ended up in a strange city filled with tall buildings and blinding lights that made Eddie’s eyes sting. They went through the city, stopping on the outskirts in a run-down neighborhood even more decrepit than his old house in Kentucky.

He spent two years with his dad in a city he came to know at St. Louis, but it never felt like home. Not like the trailer with Wayne, or anywhere his mother was. He learned how to hotwire cars and how to drive like a bat out of hell whenever his dad told him to. He learned that he was too much to take care of; his father constantly complained about feeding him, keeping him clothed, taking care of him like a father should. He learned that showing emotions would only get you hurt, that he had to hide them to survive. He learned what all the different white powders did to someone, how they would affect your mind and your body. How they made his father violent, or remorseful, or depressed, but never happy.

His father was on a bad trip when a rush of red and blue lights invaded their windows, sirens blaring and making Eddie’s ears ring. Their front door was kicked open, the old wood splintering easily under the force of a steel-toed boot. Police flooded the house, and Eddie was grabbed and dragged out before he had time to comprehend everything that was happening.

He was sitting in the back of a cop car with the door open, body completely still as police went in and out of their house. He couldn’t let them know he was scared out of his mind, that he was afraid of what they would do to him. He knew the best way to get through it was to show nothing at all. To be indifferent. Emotionless. It was the only thing his father taught him that he deemed useful.

His father was dragged out of the house by two policemen, kicking and screaming at them but Eddie couldn’t hear what he was saying, ears having gone deaf to anything other than the ringing in his head. Next thing he knew, his father had broken free and punched one of the officers, causing several to tackle him to the ground and handcuff him before practically throwing him into a car and hauling him away. All Eddie could do was watch, knowing there was nothing he could do to help him.

“You got somewhere to go, kid?” One of the cops that took him out of the house asked, leaning against the open door and blocking the flashing lights. Eddie nodded, and the cop took him back to the station where he called Wayne.

“Eddie, son, where are you? Are you okay? If that bastard hurt you, I swear to god—“

“Wayne,” Eddie began, his voice rough from not using it. “Can you come get me?”

A pause. “Sure, kid, where are you?”

“St. Louis,” Eddie supplied. There was cursing on the other end, muffled so Eddie couldn’t tell what was said but he knew Wayne well enough. Even after only two months, the man had become more like a father to him than his own dad ever was.

“I’m coming right now to get ya, just hold on tight, okay? I’ll be there ‘fore the morning.”

True to his word, Wayne showed up right before dawn in his beat up truck. He stormed the station like a madman, looking for him. He was rumpled, like he threw on just enough clothes to be decent before booking it all the way here. If he knew Wayne, that’s probably exactly what he did.

“Eddie? Eds, where are ya?”

“Sir,” the lady at the front desk interrupted. “I’m going to have to ask you to lower your voice—“

“Wayne!” Eddie perked up from the desk chair he was sitting at in the station, running around desks before jumping straight in his uncle's arms. Wayne held onto him just as tight, and he could’ve sworn he heard a sniffle or two come from the man.

“I was so worried, Eds,” Wayne whispered. “I tried lookin’ for ya, I swear I did, just—If I’d known he’d taken ya to another state I wouldn’t’ve stopped ‘til I searched the whole damn country.”

“I know, Wayne,” Eddie muttered. “I missed you too.”

As much as Eddie tried, he couldn’t put up that mask of indifference around his uncle. He could try, sure, but it never worked longer than five seconds before he saw right through it and it crumbled at Eddie’s feet.

“Let’s get you home, son,” Wayne insisted and before he knew it, Eddie was asleep in the passenger seat of the truck as they took the highway home.

Since then, Eddie and Wayne had become inseparable. There were no secrets between them, no masks. They weren’t needed, not when Wayne was more than good to him. They weren’t wanted, either, since Wayne made sure to remind him that showing emotions wasn’t a bad thing. That it was good, healthy.

It wasn’t until much later in middle school when he learned that having a mask was necessary sometimes. Especially when people started calling him a freak and a weirdo because he wasn’t identical to everyone else. Because he lived in a trailer with someone that wasn’t his biological parent and wore hand-me-down clothes that were baggy on him since his growth spurt hadn’t hit yet. He donned the air of indifference he had left behind long ago, letting the names and rumors bounce off his skin like water off an umbrella.

That need intensified when high school hit and the rumor mill grew exponentially. Suddenly, he was bombarded with accusations of Satanism, prison time, drug dealing—though that one was true—pet raccoons, and, at one point, an army of undead babies he sucked the life out of that he could command at will. Really, the shit people came up with was astounding, and Eddie learned to shove it all away. None of it was true—save for a couple things he would never, in a million years, tell another soul at Hawkins High—so he made sure to act like it was true. Let people believe what they want to believe. In the meantime, Eddie used it to his advantage to prevent anyone from getting too close. From looking past the barrier he put up between himself and everyone else.

So yeah, Eddie knows a little bit about where Mike’s coming from.

“Actually…” Robin starts. “Steve’s not doing so great—“

“What?!” Dustin squawks out, cutting Robin off and all but jumping up from his seated position. “Why the hell did you not start this whole damn thing with that?!”

“We were getting there, Henderson!” Eddie clarifies. “Now sit your ass down.”

Dustin—for once—does as he’s told. Eddie looks to Robin and gives her a nod, letting her have the floor.

“Steve’s got it in his head that he’s the only one allowed to sacrifice himself for us, that he’s only needed or wanted when he can put himself in the line of fire. So, like the caring dumbass he is, he’s been wandering around Hawkins at night because he’s worried that something will happen.”

“But I closed all of the gates,” El starts, head cocked and eyebrows scrunched like a confused puppy. “We are in no more danger.”

“I think part of him knows that, Supergirl,” Eddie explains. “But he needs to know for certain, to make sure you guys are absolutely safe.”

She nods, and sadness finds its way to her eyes. Eddie feels a pang of sympathy for her, knowing that learning how to live all over again is never easy.

“He’s not been sleeping much,” Robin continues. “It’s like he’s barely there anymore. Like he’s just… a shell.

“He thinks you all hate him. He thinks he deserves this for all the shit he did in the past, even though we all know he’s more than made up for it by becoming a decent fucking human being,” she spits out. There’s anger in her eyes now as she glares at a stain on the carpet, unwilling to look at the kids but needing to get her point across. “He broke down in my arms because this is the fifth fucking time the people he’s loved has left him and I think… I think this time broke him.”

She raises her head and looks over the kids, tears balanced on her lower eyelashes and threatening to spill over.

“You’re his family, the family he got to choose, and you still… you left. Just like everyone else has.”

The room fills with silence as the words sink in.

“How… How do we fix it?” Will asks, his quiet voice now loud. Eddie sighs and rakes a hand through his hair—a motion that keeps reminding him of Steve—before shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I know part of it is my fault, I admit that. I shouldn’t have just stopped talking to him all of the sudden, I should’ve… well, there’s a lot of things I should have done but I didn’t, so I plan on fixing that,” Eddie admits. He looks around the room, makes as much eye contact as he can to drive his point home. “You should too. A simple ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t going to cut it, not this time. Not for this.”

The kids all nod, and Eddie gestures to the door to dismiss them. They all look like kicked puppies with slouching posture and ducked heads, walking out of the trailer with their tails between their legs. Dustin and Mike are the first to hop on their bikes, ready to either apologize and get it over with or get as far away from his and Robin’s disappointed glares as possible. Before they can push off, Eddie calls out to them.

“Hey! Give it a couple days,” Eddie orders. “Steve… He’s going to need some time. Go to him when he’s ready, okay?”

He’s met with various nods and ‘will do’s as some of them take off, their knobbly knees hitting the handlebars of their too-small bikes. Then, he notices a particular brunette has yet to leave, her bike with little white training wheels still standing in the grass. Her big brown eyes lock with his and, even though there's a porch between them, he can feel the seriousness in her gaze.

“I miss him. He was always very nice to me,” El confesses. “He always gave me piggyback rides.”

Her face falls a little. “I did not know we were being mean to him.”

Eddie finds himself softening a little at her words.

“I know, Supergirl,” he winks at her. “That’s why you’re my favorite.”

She giggles in response and hops on her bike, meeting up with Max who stopped to wait for her a few yards away.

Eddie closes the door, falling against it with a thud. He groans, the sound bouncing off the thin door and out in the empty trailer. He turns to go to his room, preferably to wallow, before nearly jumping clean out of his skin.

Well, he thought the trailer was empty, except there now stands one Robin Buckley who has resumed her unimpressed, hands-on-her-hips, "you're a fucking dumbass" position from earlier.

"Jesus H. Christ!" He exclaims. A hand comes up to grab at his heart which is actively trying to beat out of his chest as his lungs grapple for air. "Birdie, I forgot you were there."

"Yeah," she deadpans. "Clearly."

Eddie straightens up, and quirks an eyebrow at her rather over dramatically. Robin rolls her eyes.

"Well?"

"It's a deep subject," Eddie sarcastically responds. Robin, unfortunately, doesn't find that funny. "'Well' what?"

"Go apologize!" She yells.

“Okay, okay, geez!”

Eddie pats himself down, looking for the keys to his van before Robin clears her throat. He looks over at her to see an unamused quirk of her eyebrow before she points to the hook by the door where his keys hang.

“Thanks, Buck!” he exclaims, pressing his hands together in prayer to the saint she is. Grabbing them, he throws the door open and clears the steps in one jump, stumbling a bit on the landing but really, he’s quite proud of this rare athletic appearance.

Jumping in his van, he slams a random tape in the deck, grinning a little at the song that plays first. Despite his obvious avoidance of the second track, the Master of Puppets album still holds a very special place in his heart. So it's really not a surprise that the song that just so happens to play first reminds him of the very man he’s going to see, sacrificial tendencies and all.

He slams on the gas, tires squealing as he peels out of Forest Hills trailer park faster than he ever has before.

He’s not running away this time; not running from a small cheerleader’s body trapped on his ceiling, not running from angry town hicks with their fiery pitchforks, and not running from a creepy interdimensional demon who enjoys sucking the life out of depressed teenagers.

No, this time, he’s running to something. Running to Steve.

He just hopes Steve will let him.

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Fic tag list: @madcapromantic @hannahhook7744 @h3rmitsunited @willim-billiam-byerson @stuftzombie @acowardinmordor @zerokrox-blog @my-chemical-sexuality-crisis @grimmfitzz @ladygrimheart @bestwifehaver @blanketlicker @fishinforfiish @vi-an-te @orionchildofhades @7shrewsinatrenchcoat @whackyrach @stevie-crow @missmagillicuddy @1cookieburn1 @mightbeasleep @jettestar @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @imyelenasexual @yikes-a-bee @that-agender-from-pluto @sufjuringstevens @gregre369 @sofadofax @lolawonsstuff @rajumat @ksierra674 @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window @justforthedead89 @vanillatwist @actually-races-erster @background-noise-headache @warlordless @largechaos @noctxrn-e @hope-can-be-your-sword @foundintheshallows @burningoffaroad @obliosworld @lemon-astra @midnightskeeper @venteraltus @lovelyscot @juleswashere3 @child-of-cthulhu

@phantomcat94 @davekat-has-consumed-me @weirdandabsurd42 @madamonsieur-silvrene @pottenloved247 @froggistain @mycatsstolemybiscuit @greatsportsprofessorathlete @m-owo-n @pickledcarrots0 @cringe-culture-is-dead-99

#stranger things #steddie #pre steddie #disposable heroes #disposable heroes mcir #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things drabble #stranger things fic #robin buckley #robin gets to punch eddie like she wanted to #eddie munson backstory #i gave him a life oops #domestic violence #child abuse #homophobia #stay safe yall

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