anti-herosprettybby

Latest Posts by anti-herosprettybby

Terrible, Awful Things (Loki x F!Reader)

A/n: Yeah, I wrote this while watching Loki season 2 episode 2 3 times in a row. What about it?

Word count: 5.5K of pure smut OOPS

Warnings: Smut with incredibly miniscule plot. 1st POV. Established relationship. Unprotected PIV. Primal/prey kink (Loki's gonna chase you!). Dom/sub dynamics (that are handled very poorly, and your first time using them should absolutely not be like they are in this fic!). Use of daddy. Inappropriate use of magic/illusions. One (1) pussy slap. Vibrator. Edging. Reader is a total brat! Good for you! Multiple orgasms. Implied aftercare, but not in detail.

It all started with a party. One of Tony’s big shindigs that he likes to put on for no particular reason, an excuse for all of the Avengers holed up in the Avengers Tower to get glammed up and get shit-faced.

Loki and you are squished right next to each other around a little round table with Natasha, Bucky, Tony, Sam, Steve, and Thor. The drinks have been flowing unbounded, loosening everyone’s lips to a dangerous point in a very unhinged game of Never Have I Ever.

“Never have I ever been railed to a point where I can’t walk,” Natasha says with a sly grin. Notably, Steve, Bucky, and Tony do take a shot, avoiding eye contact with everyone else. Loki takes a shot as well, but you do not.

And everyone stares at you.

Including your partner.

“What? I haven’t,” You say defensively.

Natasha glances between Loki and you skeptically. “I find that very hard to believe. Tony’s a perv; he chose to not make the walls sound-proof.”

“I’m not saying I’ve never been railed successfully, or haven’t been sore, but I’ve never, like, got up and collapsed,” You shrug, glancing at Loki, who is staring at me with a softly stunned sort of look. You put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a look as if to say It’s not an insult.

It’s Tony’s turn next, and his eyes are still glued on Loki and you. “Alright…never have I ever wanted to be railed to a point where I can’t walk,” he says slowly, still staring at you both.

You look down at the table and slowly drink.

Everybody starts screaming. Bucky claps Loki on the back as if he knew Loki was in for it. Loki’s mouth has slightly opened in shock as he barks out a single, sharp laugh. 

“Okay, I think I’m done with the game now~,” You say, backing away from the table sheepishly. “I’m gonna turn in. Goodnight, y’all!” You squeak, turning around.

And promptly running directly into your partner’s chest. Damn his teleportation skills. “Hi,” You say in a tiny voice as his hand closes around my arm, holding me tightly.

“Hi,” he says, almost too cheerfully.

“Hi,” You repeat, not sure what to do. Your eyes flit around for an escape route. 

“Everything all right?” Loki asks inconspicuously, his brow furrowing in that way that makes you melt.

“Everything’s great. Everything’s great…you want a drink, love? I can get you a drink before I turn in, yeah?” You ramble. Loki lets go of your arm and scans the crowded room, avoiding the blatant stares from the table you were just at.

“Oh, I’m fine.” He says, tilting his head and stuffing his hands into his pockets as he looks at you, almost condescendingly.

“All right. Then…I’m just gonna head off,” You say with a little fake laugh, patting his chest and slipping past him. 

His hand captures your arm again, preventing you from going anywhere. “Oh, don’t rush off in a hurry now, darling. We were just getting somewhere with that little game we were playing. I’m so terribly sorry that my performance hasn’t been to your satisfaction, my love!” He exclaims in mock sorrow, a hand pressed to his chest.

“No, Loki, that’s not what I meant-” You insist, trying to apologize.

“I know what you meant. And I don’t care. If you want it, you’re going to get it,” Loki interrupts, his voice dark and low as he looks down at you. You’re in a silent haze, looking up at him with slightly parted lips, ready to do anything he asked of you. “You have 15 seconds head start.” He says suddenly, surveying the room once more, then looking down at you.

“I-I what? What?” You repeat dumbly, blinking. 

“You have 15 seconds. To start running. Before I come after you.” He elaborates slowly, leaning down over you. “You want to get tamed? You want to get put in your place? You want me to fuck you so hard you can’t walk? Congratulations, darling, you’re about to get your wish.”

Swear to God, your brain was about 5 seconds behind. You blink at him before his words set in. 

You swallow hard when you realize what is to follow—a chase. A hunter coming after his prey.

The hunter? Him.

The prey?

You.

“Time starts now. Best start running, little rabbit,” Loki warns in a low voice.

\--/

So that’s how you ended up here, sprinting down the hallway. From counting in your head, you know that your 15 seconds are over and Loki will be coming after you. And there it is, those long, confident strides echoing down the hall. Not even trying to run, as if this were easy. 

Smug bastard.

You glance over your shoulder and see him walking, no, strutting towards you. He unbuttons his suit jacket swiftly with one hand and you swear, you could’ve came right there.

A little whimper that’s a mix of fear and arousal escapes your lips and your knees almost buckle. You turn away from him however and turn a sharp corner.

And that’s when you hear his footsteps pick up.

You are so fucking screwed.

You run as fast as I can, abandoning holding up your skirt and using your arms to propel yourself forward. Thank god your dress wasn’t that long. You can hear his fast and heavy footsteps behind you, advancing on you, stalking you.

You descend down a flight of stairs much slower than you would have liked, being unable to skip steps or jump to the bottom due to your heels. You can hear him getting closer, gaining on you. You make a left, using your hands to brace against the wall to slow yourself down so you don’t go colliding into it. You pick up speed again and you can hear him right behind you.

And then he laughs.

This fucker laughs as if this wasn’t affecting him at all.

His deep, rumbling chuckle reverberates up the walls, spiraling over you in dexterous sound waves that wrap you up in his baritone and chill you to your core.

And then you run into a locked door. You smack up against it and try to recover, looking around for an escape.

There is none. 

And there is Loki, slowing to a stop a few feet before you.

“Come on!” You shriek, struggling against the doorknob.

“Come on, pet. Did you really think you could outrun me?” Loki asks, only slightly out of breath as compared to your sharp huffs.

“Uh…yeah,” You say with a bratty smirk. You concentrate all my energy on pulling off a little magic trick that Loki had been teaching you. 

With a rather pathetic fizzle as compared to the blinding green and gold grandeur that accompanies his own magic, you disappear before his eyes. 

Loki’s eyes narrow and his neck twitches slightly as he inhales a sharp breath. “Little rabbit. You’ve been learning. Impressive,” he mutters to himself before turning around and beginning to stride toward where you came from. 

\--/

The first place that you can think of is the floor that your bedroom is on. With a sad fade-in, you find that my teleportation was a success! You allow yourself a few moments of celebration for being able to pull off the magic on such a short notice and under stress. You hear footsteps approaching quickly and turn to bolt, thinking it’s Loki, but it turns out to be Natasha emerging from the hallway that leads to your bedroom.

“Oh, thank God! I don’t know what I did down there, but I am in so much trouble with Loki and I am going to get my ass handed to me if he catches me! Like, sexually!” You explain in one breath to Natasha, stumbling towards her. 

“Woah, woah, what do you mean?” She asks in confusion.

“He just told me I have 15 seconds head start to run and that he was going to tame me and put me in my place and fuck me so hard I-” You try to clasp her hand, but it falls right through her in a green-gold shimmer. 

Your face falls as I watch the illusion of Natasha disappear. You whip around to find Loki standing in the doorway of the only exit from here. He’s rebuttoning the button that he had popped open earlier as if it were important to compose himself like a distinguished gentleman, although there was nobody else to be seen. “So unsophisticated, darling. You done being a naughty girl, hm?” He asks, tsking his tongue in disappointment before his eyebrows twitch with his condescendingly dark question.

You try to focus on teleporting yourself once more but to no avail. It almost feels like there’s a block in your mind, preventing me from accessing what Loki had taught me. You open your eyes and see Loki giving you a pitiful look, shaking his head as if to say You’re not getting out of this one. 

“Hey! No fair!” You whine, turning and trying to race to the kitchen. Like before, however, he’s standing right behind you. You swerve to avoid colliding with him, but instead tumble off balance and collapse on the floor to the right of him.

Loki sighs and watches you tumble to the ground, then looks back at the other illusion of him directly across. “It’s not a fair fight,” he agrees with you. 

You try to crawl and clamber to your feet in the hallway, only to find Loki emerging from the shadows at the end of it. You turn around - Loki. Your hand grasps at the doorknob to your bedroom and push your way in.

One, two, three Loki’s follow you inside.

You’re fucked.

You are completely and utterly fucked.

You back up against one of the walls, watching the Lokis converge in a little triangle surrounding me. You notice their shadows growing longer, larger beside you. You glance over and see that they look like Loki in his regalia, with his horns standing tall and proud on the two shadows on either side of you.

You look back at the illusions. The one on the left has one arm crossed over the other, the other arm raised to brush his lip as he looks at you. The one in the middle has both hands in his pockets nonchalantly, and the one on the right is fixing his cuffs.

All three of them are staring directly at you with looks that could only say You’re in for it, now. 

And you have never been more aroused in my life. If it weren’t for your panties (which are now completely ruined, mind you), you know you would be dripping down your leg. Something in their eyes tells you they know it too.

The middle Loki’s eyes flash green and suddenly the shadows on either side of you have reached out and grabbed you, pinning your hands above your head. You shriek in surprise and try to fight them, not knowing that this was a power that Loki had. “Since when is this a thing?!” You ask in astonishment.

Loki doesn’t answer, instead tilts his head as he considers you. “Are you done yet?” The one on the left asks.

“Don’t see much more of an option,” You grumble, pulling against the shadows.

“That’s a no, then…” The right one tsks in disappointment.

“Wonder what could make you my good girl again…?” The middle Loki asks rhetorically, taking a step closer. 

You let out a little whine, tilting your head pathetically as you look at him with big eyes.

“Did you have fun? Running away? Testing me?” The one on the left asks, advancing on you.

“I know what you’re doing, y’know,” You say defiantly, tugging against the shadows still.

Loki’s eyebrows jump up as he considers you, daring you to continue wordlessly.

“You’re just trying to scare me, get me into submission so you can have your way. So you can do terrible, awful things to me,” You spit, looking at him.

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply before shaking his head in disappointment when he notices you’ve gone quiet. “No, no. It’s riveting. Keep going. I want to hear more,” he urges, stuffing his hands in his pockets. The other two Loki’s have dissolved into oblivion.

“Good!” You huff, although your voice has a nervous little wobble in it. “You can only use your magic to get me to submit. You’ve never done this before, but of course now you’re relying on what you know. Can’t play fair.”

Loki’s head tilts down as he stares at you through his hard brow. “Is that right?” He asks darkly. The shadows begin to bring your hands down from above your head to behind your back, forcing you down on your knees slowly.

“You just use your skills and your magic and your teleportation and illusion-casting to get what you want. That’s all. You’re starting to make me believe that gods don’t even have that raw stamina we talked about earlier,” You shrug, finally dropping my fight with the shadows as you look up at him from your seat on the floor.

He inhales a sharp breath, looking up at the ceiling, then down at the floor.

And he chuckles.

And it scares you.

Because you know it cannot be a good sign.

“Thank you, pet…very much. I really am touched.” He inhales a sharp breath. “You know, you’re right. I have done some terrible, awful things,” he admits, squaring his body up to face yours. His voice is so hushed, almost at a whisper as he exaggerates his words. “Yeah, maybe that is who I am. It’s the real me.” He claps, startling you. “A loser. A runt. Always have been, always will be,” he agrees, leaning in. Your brow furrows in confusion as he continues. “And perhaps I’ve been…” He struggles for the words, his eyes growing a little wider, a little more feral. “...holding something back.”

“Loki…” You warn quietly, working back against the wall on your knees with the shadows.

He advances on you slowly, breathing a little harder. “Perhaps I’ve just been…biding my time.” He flashes you a toothy grin that screams danger, like a wolf’s mouth. “Perhaps I’ve just been waiting for a moment like this…” he folds his arms in front of him, one hand clasping the other as he stands directly above you, looking down at your knelt form. “So I can do terrible…awful things. To you,” he whispers calmly, a menacing grin on his face.

“Loki,” You whimper, looking up at him.

“What is it, little rabbit? Don’t tell me you’re done now, after all that fight you put up? Where’s your spirit, hm, darling?” He taunts, tilting his head. “So, I’ll ask you one more time. Are you going to be a good girl?”

You don’t know why, but you shake my head “no.”

Actually, you do know why.

You want to know what the consequences of your actions are for once.

“Hm. Alright then. Your choice, darling.” Loki says. The shadows relinquish their hold and slip away and Loki leans over you, grabbing you and pulling you up to your feet. He pushes you back on the bed, making you yelp in surprise. “No magic, hm? That’s fine. That’s just fine,” he purrs. He grabs two of his ties from his dresser and ties each to one of your wrists, and then to the frame of the bed, securing you tightly.

You tug on the ties but find them impressively tight. Since when does he know Boy Scout knots? Loki leans over, running his hands all over your body before grasping the fabric of your dress and ripping it off of you. It lays at your sides in tatters, which Loki tosses aside. You gape at him in shock, so surprised by that sheer display of strength. “How’s that for god-like athleticism, hm, darling?”

He goes into the closet and pulls out a small box. You watch him carefully, curious to see what his next move will be, not knowing what to anticipate. He opens the box and you watch him pull out a little curved red vibrator. One part goes inside, and the other latches onto the clit in some sort of sucking manner. You recognize it from ads and know that there’s a matching controller.

“That doesn’t work without a controller, so…whatcha gonna do?” You challenge, trying to come off as unbothered but it just lands as nervous.

He reaches back into the box and pulls out a little remote control with a challenging eyebrow raise. “This one?”

You fall silent. Of course he would have the controller; why wouldn’t he? He’s not an idiot.

“We’re going to have a little Q&A, yes?” Loki asks, kneeling on the bed and pushing your legs apart. He peels your soaked panties off and brings them to his nose, inhaling the scent like an addict. “Naughty girl. You liked being chased, didn’t you, little rabbit?” 

Your silence is met with a swift slap to your cunt, making you shriek in shock. This is completely new territory. “Your safeword is Tesseract. Use it wisely,” Loki instructs. He looks down at your sopping pussy, not with lust (although there is always lust in his eyes when it comes to you), but almost with a clinical eye, as if he really didn’t care that it was practically weeping for him, but wanted to make sure it was in working order. “Don’t really think I’ll need to get you ready, will I? So, your question is this. Why are you being such a brat? Simple question, really, but doesn’t mean we can’t…enjoy ourselves as we go along,” Loki says, turning on the vibrator and watching it roar to life.

Your eyes widen at the intensity of the vibrations. You squirm, trying to lock your ankles together to keep your legs shut, but Loki is having none of that, grabbing your legs and pushing them to your chest, spreading your legs enough for him to tuck the vibrator in and attach it snugly to your clit.

You let out a cry, straining against the ties as it rumbles powerfully both against you and inside you. It’s intense and my body trembles immediately at the sudden intimate feeling where you had been aching for it most. Loki lets your legs go, moving off the bed so he’s just standing at the foot of it. He watches you squirm and writhe, trying to escape the intensity. Or trying to lean into it.

Even you couldn’t tell.

He evaluates the controller. “What does this one do?” He asks, glancing at you as he presses a button. A rhythmic pattern vibrates within you, almost as if in morse code. You let out a little gasp, tightening your hands into fists.

“L-Loki! Don’t just push buttons on that!” You insist, your body reacting against the vibrations dually stimulating you. “You could make me cum way too soon.”

Loki pauses, looking at you as he purses his lips. “Could I?” He retorts. His voice is light yet dark, innocent yet dripping with sin. It makes a desperate, shameless moan escape past your lips. He presses another button that gets rid of the pattern and puts it back to how it was before. 

You bite your lip, your head tossed back on the pillows as you try to bite back your moans. “This is exciting,” Loki chuckles, shifting on his feet in eagerness as if he were watching a sports game and not torturing you.

“Turn it off,” You whine, tilting your head. “Daddy, turn it off~!” You insist before letting out another little shriek when he hits the up arrow, intensifying the vibrations by one notch. “Oh! Oh! Okay, all right, all right-” You sob desperately.

“‘Daddy?’ Ooh, darling, that’s new. I like it,” Loki chuckles out, his lips forming a tight “o” as if he were impressed. “You are dirty, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t mean to be a brat, Loki, okay? I don’t know why you think that!” You insist, trying to work your way out of this predicament. 

“I don’t know if you know this, but I’ve done some terrible, awful things in the past…” Loki begins, throwing your words back in your face.

“Yeah, yeah, you have. You’re doing it right now, Loki!” You ramble desperately.

He grins at you like a kid in a candy store before pressing the up arrow again, making you cry out once more. Your body is on fire, alight with arousal. You can feel that fuse beginning to burn deep in my belly, making your legs start to tremble and your back arch. 

“I swear I didn’t mean to,” You whimper quietly, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead.

“Darling! You’re so convincing! I want to believe you, but you’re just– You’re such a good actor! So pretty when you want something,” he purrs, looking at your desperate body.

“Daddy, daddy, please, I swear-” You beg, tears starting to form.

“God, so gorgeous. So convincing,” he continues, ignoring you. His eyes travel down to your pussy, need dripping down your thighs. “Please tell me the truth. I know you’re lying.”

“Okay, okay, okay! I was just playing the game, alright, I was just playing along. I was drunk and was stupid,” You half-lie, hoping that the slight truth would be enough to fool him.

You realize that, although you don’t know why, you weren’t allowing yourself to cum.

Not without his permission.

It wasn’t something that you had really done before, orgasm denial. Sure, he would ask you to wait so we could finish together, but he had never edged you or anything like that before. So why were you being so obedient whilst also defying him?

“Right. So you were just feeling so drunk and silly that you thought insulting my performance publically was a good idea?” Loki asks, turning his head and glaring at you. “I had given you every drink tonight, and that was barely your fourth. I don’t buy it.”

He turns up the vibration again and you let out a long, drawn-out cry, scrabbling at the ties as your legs close in on themselves. He doesn’t stop you, instead, his gaze just hardens. “Do not cum.” He orders darkly. “Why are you making it so hard on yourself, hm, darling?”

“Oh my god~” You squeak, screwing my eyes shut. “Daddy, please, I swear. I wasn’t thinking, I just- was making a joke!”

“A joke? Well, it was very funny. Really witty,” Loki acknowledges before turning up the vibrator gradually, listening to it grow louder and louder along with your own desperate sobs and moans. The tears finally flood out, dampening your cheeks and making your makeup run.

“Don’t cum, little rabbit. Don’t do it,” he reminds starkly. You can barely think, You can scarcely speak with the intensity of the vibrations and your orgasm increasingly creeping up on you. You’re not sure you can hold it. “Just tell me why you were so adamant on acting up, my love.” His voice is so soothing, as if this was a civil conversation.

“I just wanted to know!” You exclaim finally when you know you can’t stop yourself anymore. It isn’t much of an explanation, but hopefully he will understand. To your absolute dismay, the vibrator stops, killing your orgasm with it. “No!” You sob with a devastation a little too dramatic. Perfect for Loki. “I just wanted to know what you would do…” You whisper, utterly defeated.

“There you go,” Loki coaxes with that velvety purr. He looks at you, watching your chest heave, the tears roll down a little slower. “Got there in the end.” He places the remote on the dresser and leans over you, pulling the vibrator out of your cunt. There’s a few strings of arousal connecting it to you. He brings the vibrator to his mouth, sucking your juices off of it, all while staring at you. He lets out a little noise of content, drawing a whimper from you in jealousy.

“This all started with you saying you wanted to get fucked so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk. I do hope you’re ready for that to happen,” Loki challenges, quirking his head as he begins to unbuckle his belt. 

This is almost equal torture, watching him strip lazily, still staring right at you as he peels off his jacket, unbuttons his shirt, unzips his pants. And you can’t touch him.

“I’m going to untie you. And you’re going to ride me. You will beg for permission to come,” Loki orders, undoing the ties around your wrists. He massages your wrists, kissing the marks that were left behind by the fabric. He lays down, propped up against the headboard in a leisurely seated position. He strokes his cock lazily, watching as you straddle him, dizzy from lust. 

You take his cock from him, giving it a few pumps and hovering over it, dragging the swollen tip through your folds before sinking down. Loki’s hands reach out instantly, snatching your hips tightly and stilling me. You let out a whine, looking down at him with eyes that were just pitiful with need. “Slowly,” he orders, looking at you and relinquishing his hold on your hips to allow you to slide down on his cock slowly. 

you let out a little whine as his coarse hairs brush against your clit when you’re fully seated on him. Your legs are spread to either side of his slender hips, your hands braced on his strong, pale chest. “Go on, darling,” Loki urges, holding intense eye contact with you that makes your pussy flutter. You begin to roll your hips, little moans escaping your lips as you start to ride him.

“There you go…atta girl, there’s a good girl,” Loki praises softly, his chin tilting up a little as he tries to control himself, although it’s clear this is affecting him more than he’s trying to let on as his breathing increases. You let out another little moan, your nails scratching at his chest as you ride him expertly. Your legs are starting to burn, but you keep riding him, feeling your orgasm approaching. 

“Are you close, darling? Hm? Do you remember what you need to do to cum?” Loki asks, looking at you expectantly.

“Please, daddy, can I cum? I wanna cum on your cock so bad, I wanna cum…please!” You beg, my body going pliant as I bounce on his cock, feeling it swell inside me. 

“Go on, darling. Cum for me. Cum for daddy,” Loki allows, almost growling as his hips buck up to meet yours, making you lurch forward, collapsing on his chest. Your sweaty skin is sticking together, your breasts pressed against his chest as your body spasms and you cry out in pleasure, your hips stuttering as he fucks you through it.

But he isn’t stopping. “L-Loki~” You gasp out, feeling your tears starting to well up again. 

“You can take it. You can cum again for me,” Loki grits, pushing you up off of his chest and holding you up, his large hands enveloping your breasts, kneading them as he bounces you on his cock. 

Your head falls back as you let out a pitiful sob, your hands on top of his as he works and twists your nipples. Your hips roll against his pathetically, your energy drained but way too aroused to want to stop. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Getting just what you want?” Loki asks.

You nod your head, letting out a “mhm,” unable to muster up proper words. In your head, however, you’re thinking that I’m really the one doing all the work…

Clearly you were a little too cockdrunk to remember that he could see your thoughts.

“Really? You’re the one doing all the work? Is that what you think?” Loki asks, tilting his head.

Your eyes widen when he vocalizes my thoughts, and it doesn’t connect what he has done. Not that it really mattered. “You will come again,” Loki demands, reaching down between you and dragging his fingers from where his cock is stretching you out up to your clit, bringing your dripping cum to circle around your clit. His tone tells me that there’s absolutely no room for you not to follow his orders.

His dexterous fingers tweaking your clit paired with your thrusts against him sends you over the edge at an embarrassingly fast rate, only a few minutes after your first orgasm. Your body trembles as you struggle to keep myself upright.

Before you can think, before you can come down from that high, Loki is flipping you over, staying tucked inside me but pinning your back to the bed, forearms braced on either side of your head as he ruts into you passionately, hot breath fanning over your neck.

Your eyes are squeezed shut in passion, his thrusts puncturing out weak little squeaks from your chest. “L-Loki!” You practically wail, reaching around him and clinging to his slender, defined back as if it would save you. Your nails scrabble at him; You know they’re leaving streaks of red in their wake but it doesn’t seem to faze Loki whatsoever.

“I do sincerely hope you have nothing planned for tomorrow…I don’t think you’ll be able to go anywhere,” Loki chuckles darkly in your ear, pressing his lips against that spot that has you preening, legs tightening around his hips as the tip of his cock kisses your g-spot repeatedly. 

Loki reaches down, grabbing your left thigh and anchoring it up over him. Just by keeping that one leg pinned up over him, he’s able to spread you perfectly on his cock as he parts your insides deliciously.

“I’m gonna-I’m gonna fucking cum again, Loki, please let me cum!” You beg pathetically, knowing you haven’t a prayer of holding back.

“Do not cum,” Loki growls, pulling back to look down at you. Fuck, he looks like a god. He is a god. His raven hair, once slicked neatly for the party, now hangs around him in messy droves. His eyes are wild, and sweat beads his hairline, glistening down his neck and across his collarbones. 

Your brows furrow in desperation as you cry out in contempt, your legs shaking uncontrollably once more as you try to hold it back. He fucks you steadily, burying his face back in your neck and making sure that you are thoroughly covered in a plethora of purple splotches.

You know you can’t hold on any longer and Loki can tell too. He reaches down to begin swirling his fingers over your clit. “If you don’t cum in the next 5 seconds, you don’t get to cum at all,” he orders. “5…4…3..tw-” He doesn’t even have to finish counting down before your back is arching off the bed, gripping his shoulders as your legs shake uncontrollably. You feel a surge of wetness between Loki’s and your bodies and something tells you that you just squirted all over him.

You can feel it dripping down your ass, forming a pool beneath you, but you can’t seem to care as Loki keeps up his swift strokes. The stutter of his hips indicates he’s getting close, along with the way his groans increase an octave, verging on whines as he fucks into you. “Take it…fucking take it!” He growls before slamming into you powerfully one last time, his cum filling you up, oozing out and meeting your squirt down on the bed. 

Loki falls limp on you, breathing heavily into your ear. You can’t really talk, but you tap on him rapidly to indicate that he’s crushing you. He rolls over with a little laugh, his body still glistening with sweat. “My gods, darling,” he chuckles breathlessly.

Your voice finally comes back to me, weak and hoarse as it is from screaming his name. You sit up and swing your legs over the bed with an effort to go to the bathroom to pee and clean yourself up, as both of your spend is currently dripping down your legs in a little waterfall. 

And the second you stand up, you crumble. As you sit there, awkwardly knelt on the floor, my legs tucked to the side, you remember exactly how this whole night started and I realize it ended with Loki being right. You try to clamber to your feet but fail miserably. “L-Loki?” You squeak quietly.

You look up behind you to see him peeking down from over the bed, the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. “Oh dear. Something the matter? You seem a little…unable to walk.”

“Fuck you,” You grumble, pouting on the floor.

“Darling, I just did. Three times over. Would you really like to go again?” He challenges playfully. He gets out of bed, and although his knees are a little wobbly too, he manages to pick you up, one sturdy arm under your knees and the other securing your midsection as he carries you to the bathroom.

“I love you,” You whisper, kissing his collarbone and leaning against his chest.

“Not as much as I love you, darling, I promise,” Loki vows, kissing your forehead.

Combustion (Bfd!Joel Miller x F!Reader)

a/n: so here's some angst?? uh idk i was just chatting with myself in the mirror as one does and this idea popped into my head so have at it i guess

Word Count: 3K OOPS

Warnings: Lots of angst! Drunk Joel, mean Joel, nice age gap (reader is senior in college, joel is presumably in his 40s), like a singular sentence of masturbation, reader is best friend's with Sarah, jealous Joel (but not of another man), lots of tears!

Joel has always been there. 

Ever present, always constant, like air. And the older you get, the more you think he might be a necessity to living in the same way air is. The older he gets, the more you think he might feel the same way.

But if he’s air, then you are fire.

The way you feed into each other can be explosive.

And not always in a good way.

It had started less than a year ago. The summer between your junior and senior year of college. For some reason, last summer…you had grown. You weren’t a kid, or even a teenager anymore, you were 21 and coming into your own womanhood in a way that made Joel look at you a little longer, made his hand brush yours a little more directly.

You pretended like you didn’t notice, like you didn’t purposefully come over to “hang out with Sarah,” just to sprawl out on a pool chair in the smallest bikini you could dig out of your closet. Like you didn’t get up in the middle of the night during sleepovers dressed only in a large shirt and too-small shorts to get a glass of water.

Like you didn’t linger outside his door, listening to his soft pants and moans when he touched himself, whispering your name to the comfortable, dark solace of his bedroom.

Joel knew. You knew. And it all came to a head on a picnic blanket in his backyard under the stars one hot, sticky summer night, providing with one another a kind of passion you didn’t understand yet.

And it continued- it has continued to the present. And now? Now you are preparing for the finals week of your senior year, prepping for graduation and the aftermath of getting that degree. You are crashing at home for a long weekend to build yourself up for that final push. Studying with Sarah and getting to be with Joel made any anxiety dissipate under the soft spring sun.

But that was just for you. For Joel, having you here made things so much worse. He could never think straight when he was around you. It’s not that he blamed you exactly, but it was an unfortunate side effect of your presence. And…he felt inferior to you. 

He didn’t go to college. He went to trade school, and although he is certified and very smart in ways you aren’t. There will always be a part of him that envies your bright-eyed tenacity, and your ability to pursue what you want to go after. He knows he has grit and gumption; after all, he made a life for himself and helped Tommy out numerous times. He was the one with the initiative to go to trade school and start working as a contractor, he was the one that got married and had a child. He was also the one whose wife left him, leaving him a single father. But still, he was capable of providing for Sarah.

But sometimes that jealousy seeps through. Hits him where it shouldn’t. Usually through the bottle. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It was another late study session at the Millers’. You were gathering up your materials, putting your pens away and stacking your journals atop your computer. You gathered them to your chest and said goodnight to Sarah, closing her bedroom door on the way out. You figured you should say goodbye to Joel, too. 

You found him in the backyard, where he usually likes to hang out if there isn’t some sports game on. He’s nursing a bottle of whiskey, straight, not a lite beer he would usually drink. It makes your brow furrow in light worry, but you know better than to speak up about it. After all, you are half his age, and nobody would want to get lectured by a college student who thinks they know more. 

“Hey baby,” you say softly, grazing a hand on his shoulder as you smile softly at him. 

He turns around abruptly, startled by the materialization of the very person who has taken up a permanent residence in what is starting to feel like his very core. He doesn’t really directly address you, just kinda grunts and nods in your general vicinity, only worsening that worried feeling that is gathering in the pit of your stomach, a sore replacement for the usual fluttering feeling he gives you.

“Uh…is everything okay? Rough day at work?” You ask timidly, tilting your head.

“No.” Finally, he speaks up. There is a gruffness in your voice that you have never heard, certainly never directed towards you. “And if there was, I wouldn’t tell you about it.”

Your head rears back as if you had been slapped. It was a weird dig, making you all the more confused. “Okay, first of all, rude. That’s not how you talk to people, least of all me. And it’s fine if you don’t want to tell me something, but you don’t need to address me so callously like I did something to you.” An uncomfortable passage of silence. “Did I? Do something to you? If I did, can you tell me, so I can fix it? You know I would never mean to hurt you-”

“Jesus, this isn’t about you!” Joel exclaims, standing up. Not everything is! But you’ve got it drilled down in your head that the whole fucking neighborhood, the whole fucking world revolves around you. It doesn’t,” Joel spits rudely, looking at you with spite. His words are slurred, an obvious indicator that he is, in fact, drunk. 

But drunk words are sober thoughts, aren’t they?

“Alright, that’s it. You’re drunk,” you say dismissively, biting back the stinging tears and swallowing down hard on the lump in your throat as you wrench the bottle out of his hand, setting it on the back counter jetting from the wall of the house.

Joel starts to protest, but just steps closer, making you step back instinctively, your neck craning to look up at him. He speaks up again, only twisting the knife in your heart. “When are you gonna stop fucking acting like a know it all? You aren’t my therapist. You aren’t my wife. You have no right to come out here and be all sweet on me and try to right my wrongs. It isn’t your place. Find it.”

And in that moment, Joel sobers instantly. Because of the look on your face. Because of a realization on his part that was long overdue. One that should have come with the changes last summer, but instead lingered in the shadows of something unspoken until this moment.

You are clutching your journals and laptop, looking at him with the scowl of a scorned child, but that look morphs into one of a disappointed adult. Of a hurt lover. Of a broken friend. There is an air of broken promises and false hope that shimmers around the little bubble the two of you had blown, and that he had popped.

In that moment, you grow up in his eyes.

But you’re fighting in your head. Do you walk away, let him sober up, and try again in a few days? Or do you fucking let it rip? 

No. If Joel isn’t going to be the adult, you have to be. You hug your belongings to your chest once again and turn on your heel, hopping off the deck and heading to the gate, your hand reaching out wordlessly.

“Wait. I-fuck, I’m sorry. I love you, you know that,” Joel calls out haphazardly.

In that shitty excuse for an apology, you break, with no regard for whoever heels. “Say you love me,” you say in a small voice, not turning around yet.

“What? I love you…?” He says in confusion.

“No. Say you love me and mean it, Joel Miller. Say you love me like you haven’t been fucking your daughter’s best friend for less than a year. Say you love me like you actually want to be with me. Say you love me like you didn’t just tell me to find my place. Say you love me like you actually love me!” You shout, your voice raising more and more with each statement, turning around and gesturing towards him. Joel pales at your outburst. You sink back into your own skin. “No…fuck you. I hope that you learn to be comfortable with the man you are so that you can love someone else the way they deserve to be. Cause it isn’t fucking going to be me.”

\--/

He’s at your graduation. It’s uncomfortable, the stiff side hug and the smile on your face that doesn’t quite reach the eyes in all the photos. You two barely exchange words, but you try your hardest to not let it bother you.

Your diploma is your achievement, and nothing that happened between you two could dampen your moment. You wouldn’t let him steal that away from you.

Now that you are done with college, you are back with your family for a little bit longer as you try to get your feet under you. With nothing else to distract you, yeah, it is even worse. Joel is right across the street, and of course you still want to be with Sarah. But to be in his house, to be in his presence, to constantly smell him and have him in your senses so often is quite maddening. 

He’s tried to talk to you before, tried to grab you by the arm and pull you aside for the chat, but you just wrench away, shoot him a look of pure betrayal and disgust, and he’ll let you go for a little while longer.

He doesn’t know if he can keep doing this, though. You don’t either

If he’s air and you are fire, you need him to keep yourself ignited. You were a spark before, but he helped you become a roaring tangle of dazzling brilliance.

He had dulled your light when those words were spoken.

In your solitude, without him to attest to anything, you wondered if any of it even happened at all. Was it some prolonged fantasy of your love-muddled brain? A crush for your best friend’s dad gone too far in some sick maladaptive twist?

You know that’s obviously not the case, but any option seems better than how it had ended. The only reason you knew you weren’t crazy was the necklace that you refused to take off. Joel had got it for you, before the two of you were even an item, but late enough where you were an adult, and that connection was beginning to take shape. It was small; 14K gold arranged in a teardrop strand around a small diamond. A gift for you when you first went to college. He had given it to you with a note: “Find your fire and do whatever it is that wakes you up, whatever it is that makes you feel alive. Do what inspires you, what moves you, what makes your heart race. Do the things that ignite passion into your bones. Chase your dreams, follow your heart, capture the moments that take your breath away. Do not settle for mediocrity, you have a fire in your soul and a burning in your heart. Do not let fear, convenience or comfort put out those flames. Hold on to what lights you up — what sets your soul on fire. Let go of what harms you and blind them with your light. You are capable and deserving of magic, of love, of the extraordinary — you just have to believe it. Discover what sets a spark in you, follow its flames and light a fire so big that nothing can extinguish it — there is enough fire inside you to burn brighter than the sun. -Always in Your Corner, Joel Miller”

Sitting on your bed, you clutch that note to your chest, quietly sobbing as you feel the necklace on your collarbones, heavy as a boulder. In that vulnerable moment, you don’t know how you got here.

On his front porch, in gym shorts and a tank top, your hair held up in a claw clip, and your cheeks streaked with tears. He’s standing in the doorway in complete shock, messy hair, shorts, and a gray t-shirt over him as he stares at you. He’s saying your name, asking if you are okay, but you are just trying to gather your thoughts. 

“You-you said to not settle for mediocrity. That I should hold onto what sets my soul on fire. That was fucking you, Joel! You were the one that lit me up! It was always you! And I can’t fucking sleep, or-or eat knowing that I can’t walk past you without feeling like I’m getting the wind knocked out of me! All because of what, you-you got drunk and pissed at me? Why? Why did you do that? Why could you not handle me in that one moment?” You finally burst out, the tears coming back in full throttle as you thrust the note into his hands, up against his chest. You want to hit and kick like a child throwing a tantrum, but refrain, instead just crying into the back of your hand.

Joel wants to reach out. WIth his words, with his hands. He wants to comfort you, but he doesn’t know how far he can gets before he breaks a precarious boundary with you. His warm chocolate eyes scan over the note, remembering how he wrote it with such fondness for you in mind. It hasn’t weaned in the slightest.

“You don’t deserve me. I’m twice your age, I’m a contractor with chronic back pain. I would just hold you back from reaching your full potential, because you are capable of so much more than I could ever give you,” Joel tries to reason with furrowed brows.

“No, no! I did not come over here for you to stand there and tell me why we don’t work! I don’t care! I’m here because I want to be here, and I always have been. I’m not dumb, Joel! You know that. Don’t think I haven’t overthought all of this, considered every way our relationship could go. I’m prepared. I’m ready. I don’t need to listen to you try to give excuses for your emotional insubordination!” You exclaim, pointing a finger down to the ground, a more distinguished way of stomping your foot.

Joel is struck dumb by your outburst. Mostly because…you’re right. He has nothing more to say, no more poor excuses to offer you. He has to own up for his actions, something he has not done in…a while.

“Okay…you’re right. But please…can we sit down? I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” he says, gesturing to the porch swing. You sit on the farthest sides you can, too scared to touch each other yet. You are trying to calm your ragged breathing, to get your emotions under control. “I know there are people out there smarter than me. Of course there are! I’m just some man in Texas; I know the world is wide. But I didn’t expect to find a genius so close…across the street…in my bed. With me. I…want to be the man that can help you become what you most want to be. I don’t want to be the one that gridlocks you into some kind of lifestyle just so you can fit into how I live. You are made for so much more than this town, more than me. You’re made of stronger stuff, smarter stuff. And yeah, it makes me a little embarrassed when you go on those wonderful rants about something I’ll just never understand, but I sure as hell would like to listen to you talk about it,” Joel explains, looking down at his hands, wishing he could take yours.

You tilt your head, wiping your final tears away. “You’ve got some idea of what a genius is. Joel…I understand what I’m doing with you. I like being with you. If I felt trapped or held back or restricted, then I would do something about it. You sell yourself so painfully short. You are more than you know. What you just described, listening to me talk about stuff you don’t understand, I feel that way all the time around you! You can talk about cars and materials and power tools and what have you for ages and I will sit there and listen to all of it because you understand all of it in such a masterful way I never could!” You inch closer, feeling more comfortable. “It’s okay to not be the best at everything. We excel in different areas, but that doesn’t make us incompatible. You have to stop self-sabotaging when both of us are perfectly comfortable,” she finishes off quietly, slipping a hand in his.

“God, baby, it killed me to stay away from you at graduation. To watch your big moment, all of that hard work paying off as you strutted across that stage and got your degree, I was a mess. I was bawling down there with your family, and they were so goddamn confused! I just wanted to hug you, and kiss you, and tell you that I am so proud of my sweet, smart girl. Because I am. No…no drunk, jealous bout of rage could ever really take away from that. And I’m sorry that it did. I’m sorry that I said all of that shit and hurt you in just about every way I shouldn’t. I can’t take back what I said. But I can fix what I say and do going forward,” Joel says with a nod, looking up at you dutifully, pursing his lips.

You nod, grateful for the apology as you slide closer, your fingers interlacing as you lean your head on his shoulder. The night is quiet and warm, like it was when you first got together. There’s crickets, and the coo of a dove far off. There’s still just a glimmer of light in the sky despite it being late. Good ol’ Texas sunsets; they last for hours.

Kind of like you and Joel. Bright, dazzling, something truly special to behold, and that could last forever.

drunken proposals

pairing: bucky x reader

summary: too much alcohol leads to proposals

-short little drabble bc I should be studying but I'd rather do something else

___________________________________________

You don't remember how much you've drank but you're sure it's a lot. Everything is becoming so blurry. But apparently, being drunk doesn't mean you can't appreciate a good-looking man.

Bucky doesn't know how long he's been at this party or how much he had to drink, but he does know there's a pretty woman across the room he wants to talk to. He doesn't remember when he first saw you, but he knows you've had his attention from first glance.

"Steve, don't ya think she's so stunning? Ya think she's single?" Steve looks at his best friend laughing.

"You right she probably taken. A doll like that must have someone, so stupid of me." Bucky sighs sadly sipping on his drink.

"Why don't you go ask and find out?" Steve rubs Buckys shoulder.

"Hessopretty. Wantmyhusvand to look like that." you said your words slurred due to the alcohol. Your friend laughs looking where you pointed.

"Imma go and ask him to marry me." you say standing up, your friend catching you since you could barely stand up straight.

"Marriage, huh already?" your friend jokes and you nod confidently shaking her off.

"She coming over quick act normal." Bucky pushes Steve and straightens up almost falling off his chair. Steve catches him and let's out a chuckle.

"Hey! You!" Bucky looks around and points at himself when he hears the pretty woman point and yell at him.

"Yes, you!" You stumble a little when you reach the gorgeous man who catches you. You fall right into his muscular chest. Usually, you would ask for permission before touching anyone, but now you couldn't help yourself so your hands wonder and squeeze the mans chest, and then arms. One feels different than the other, but strong nonetheless.

"Not that I mind that a pretty doll like you is touching me like this but would love to know your name. Bucky finds it cute how you immediately put your hands up and tell him your name.

"Bucky." He introduces himself to you.

"THAT'S A SEXY NAME LIKE YOU!" Bucky backs away a little because you were yelling, he doesn't know why he could hear you the music isn't that loud.

"I know we jus met but got a question for you."

"MARRY ME?"

"MARRY ME?"

You and Bucky say at the same time, and then you both start laughing so hard you're holding on to each other.

"Great! We agree, let's talk wedding ideas!" You happily say, leading Bucky by the arm to dance with him. Bucky follows you like a lovesick puppy, excited to make plans with the most beautiful doll that's walking the earth.

"Should we tell them?" Steve nudges Sam.

"Tell them what?"

"That they've been married for 5 years???"

Sam shakes his head, taking out his phone to film you and Bucky trying to dance while you're absolutely wasted. He would use this video on the wedding you're planning currently but by tomorrow you'll probably come to your senses.

[The End]

hope you enjoyed <3

likes comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

Okay so I'm begging the Eddie Munson x Reader writing community to write something inspired by 10 Things I Hate About You.

Patrick Verona is an Eddie Munson Variant, the characterization would be seamless and I will pay you in reblogs and my endless devotion.

The reader could be based on Kat, but honestly you could swap her out for whatever character type you like.

For example, the reader could be Steve Harrington's sister/sibling. Maybe Steve can't date until they date (hence Eddie's involvement).

I just wanna see all the talented people in this fandom give this prompt a shot ❤️

If you do end up writing it, please tag me. I would love to support your work ❤️

Everyone please stop what you’re doing because today is Loki’s birthday

Happy birthday Loki

Stop Bullying People for Liking Things

I'm so done with getting bullied for just enjoying something. This video put all of my thoughts into one video. Thank you. Holy Shit.

Oooh, I hope you have so much fun abroad! :D

Okay dokey, here are my fluff ideas this time around:

-Reader gets made fun of for having a seemingly silly phobia, but Loki happens to share the phobia (like, think of something not a lot of people would be afraid of)

-Loki overhears Reader singing really well, but she also refuses to sing in front of people because she was humiliated last time she tried, so Loki eavesdrops until Reader finds him one day

-Just have Reader and Loki floating around Avengers Tower acting like Gomez and Morticia Addams for 500 words, bonus if they get frisky in a public space and Satchel!Steve makes a cameo

Fluff Drabble Marathon II A link to my Fluff Library is HERE Warnings: Some steamy content/references. Still fluff (w/c 550) A link to my regular Masterlist is HERE [18+]

Public Displays of Affection

The door to the conference room opened. He was late to Rogers 7am meeting, as usual.

“Laufeyson, take a seat” Rogers chided, sighing as the god gracefully took the spot you’d saved for him at the otherwise full table.

“My love” Loki murmured, ignoring Steve and raising the back of your hand to his lips.

He pressed a kiss firmly against your skin, making you shiver. “My goddess…” another kiss planted against your wrist, “my queen…” he bit your forearm gently, sucking the skin; those piercing eyes never leaving yours.

“Excuse me.” Wilson huffed, throwing his arms in the air, “Is there a damn orgy on the agenda this morning? I guess I missed that email, huh?”

You felt heat rising in your cheeks as you pulled your arm away from Loki’s grasp, glancing apologetically around the table.

“I fail to see why it is my concern that your midgardian customs do not allow for lovers to greet each other in a fitting manner” Loki purred to Wilson, his eyebrows raising haughtily.

“Hey, Loki” Natasha quipped, sliding her arm across the table and resting her head on her palm, “I was enjoying it, makes a change from Captain Dry over here and his droning. No offence, Cap.” she chuckled as Steve threw his hands in the air.

“What else you got in that suave-bank, Laufeyson?” she said coyly, wriggling her eyebrows. Loki’s lips curled in a knowing smile, enjoying the opportunity for mischief unfolding.

“Indeed, Romanoff…” he murmured, turning his sultry gaze back to you. You melted. He could make you forget everything. Everyone. It could be quite inconvenient.

“In that case...Y/N you look positively ravishing this morning. The angelic sight of you fresh from your bed, rested and untouched by the day makes me quiver with the urge to worship you.” He leant forward, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek and tucking it behind your ear.

Loki’s eyes danced with amusement as his velvet voice continued to radiate through the air. “And I shall do so slowly...purposefully...an unravelling of the adoring thoughts that have been marinating in my mind since yesterday evening...”

The sound of Clint theatrically yakking broke the moment. “Jesus, man...I’ve just had breakfast.”

“I think it’s sweet…” Wanda cooed, resting her chin in her hand, “makes a change from you guys bottling everything up…” her eyes travelled towards Vis, who gestured in bemusement to Scott beside him.

“Sweet?” Wilson’s eyes grew wide in disbelief, “I feel like I’m watchin’ a peep show right now.”

“What does this mean, this...‘bottling up’?” Vis murmured to Scott, as the man beside him shrugged. “Don’t look at me dude, I have no idea what’s happening” Lang murmured, rubbing his eyes.

Loki’s lips found your neck, murmuring sweet praises only audible to you as you giggled in spite of yourself. Nat and Wanda gave each other appreciative looks as the men around the table threw their gaze to the ceiling, one by one.

“Ok...I think we’re gonna take ten and re-visit the start time of this meeting once Loki and Y/N have had time to properly greet each other” Steve huffed, before striding dramatically out the door.

“Wait up man…” Wilson shouted, pushing himself from the table, followed by each member of the team in tandem.

The bustle of footsteps making their way towards the canteen echoed in the hallway as Loki’s lips found yours, pressing against them with the burning passion of a thousand suns.

“You continue to bewitch me, love” he murmured, peppering kisses along the line of your cheekbones, “never stop…”

“Loki this is torture...they think we’re ridiculous” you giggled, leaning into the pressure of his mouth on your neck.

“To live without your affections, my love...only that would be torture.” he whispered gently against the raised hairs of your skin, “let them talk. I care only for the words from your lips when you bend willingly against my touch...”

Loki’s smouldering gaze bore into you, raising your hand once again as his wet tongue pressed in a longing kiss to the underside of your wrist.

-

Reduced Fluff Tags

@lokischambermaid @lady-rose-moon @mochie85 @wheredafandomat @loopsisloops @theaudacitytowrite @holdmytesseract @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @lokikissesmyforehead @ladylovesloki @lollywritesstuff @sititran @holymultiplefandomsbatman @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @mcufan72 @nightshadelm @evelyn-kingsley @muddyorbs @123forgottherest @simplyholl @homesickcassie @ozymdias @xorpsbane @michelleleewise @vbecker10

people of color will always ALWAYS deserve better and more. they’re allowed to feel and say whatever they want and act however, i will forever stand ten toes down on this!!

𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 

summary you're a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen. queue smiley face oatmeal, grossly misused power tools, desserts on the living room floor, a haircut, and an abundance of nerd metaphors [15k]

warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie's birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie ends up being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general loneliness, mentions of a shitty/traumatic pregnancy, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, you wash eddie's hair!!!! this was low-key requested by anon

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie opens the door and finds a little girl on the steps of his house. Little girl feels generous – she's barely more than a baby. In a set of tiny matching pajamas and white socks stained green from the morning grass, she looks up at him with wide, sad eyes. 

"Hey," he says carefully. "Hey, sweetheart." 

"Good morning," she says, though it comes out blurry.

"Good morning," he repeats with a breathless laugh, instantly endeared.

He curls his hand around the railing and squats down. She really is very cute and obviously well looked after, although he realises upon closer inspection that she's been crying. 

"Where's your mommy?" Eddie feels silly as he asks, but what else do you say when you find kids by themselves? 

He's not really expecting her to know the answer. She pouts her small mouth and Eddie freezes up. 

"Mommy.” Her breath quivers. 

"Don't cry," he says very gently.

It doesn't work, obviously, and she starts whimpering in a way that turns Eddie's heart entirely. 

"Let's find mommy, okay? Do you wanna do that? Wanna come and find mommy with me?" 

"Yes," she says, though it quickly draws up into a sharp cry. 

Eddie treks down the stairs and turns back, waiting. The little girl looks down at the steps and her eyebrows furrow as she places one foot after the other, looking like her socks are stuck to a fly trap. 

He holds his hand out. "You got it," he says encouragingly, wiggling his fingers. 

Her relief is palpable. Her brows smooth as she takes his hand, so small he can cover her entire palm with the meat of his thumb. She wobbles down the steps and then hesitates at the damp ground awaiting. 

Eddie drops his gaze to her wet feet.

She looks up at him. Eddie doesn't think she means to but her eyes are pleading,and he's already moving to pick her up when she lifts her arms into the air.

She's heavier than he anticipates. He quickly gets used to the weight, shifting her against his side with his arm under her butt, her damp foot digging into his abdomen. She rests one hand on his shoulder and the other reaches for his hair. He can't help smiling at her as she pets the dark mess, hand clumsy but well-intentioned. 

He walks down past the van and onto dark asphalt, looking up and down the road to see if anyone's around. He figures she has to be a trailer park kid – she can't have walked very far, and she'd been waiting outside. She must've gotten mixed up and thought his trailer was her own, which hopefully means her mom lives close. 

The steps up into his trailer are on the right side. Eddie guesses she's come from the right. It's not a great assumption — he's grasping at straws. 

"What's your name?" he asks. 

She's taken a lock of his hair into her hands. Eddie worries for a second that she's going to try eating it but she only waves it around, looking pleased. 

"I'm Eddie." 

"Dee," she says. 

"Almost. Eh-dee," he spells out, again not actually expecting her to understand what he's saying. He's unsure about kids her age – he's unsure what age she even is. 

She babbles something unintelligible and Eddie hikes her higher up his chest. He strides out of the cool shadow and blinks, shielding his eyes against the yellow-white glare of sunshine. The little girl hides her face in his hair. 

He hasn't walked very far when he sees you behind the trailer three doors down, pinning clothes that look the same size as the girl's pajamas to a clothesline with unhurried hands. The front door is wide open. 

"Your poor mommy," he murmurs as he approaches, "out here doing the laundry by herself and you're halfway to Indianapolis. Musta got turned around, huh?"

You drop a small light blue dress on the floor and cuss just loud enough for Eddie to hear it. You pick it up fast and brush it down, looking over the fabric worriedly. 

Eddie cuts over soft grass, giving the baby's waist a pat and holding her ears away from his mouth as he raises his voice. "Hey, is this your kid?" he asks. 

You flinch toward him and your eyes go wide – wide, your lips parting and your brows jumping down like you might start yelling. 

You're really fucking pretty. 

Eddie’s quick to placate you. "She was sitting on my front steps." 

You still don't look very happy though your suspicion melds to confusion and then a stab of too-late worry. You rush towards them and Eddie turns his body to encourage the girl's gaze to you. His chest warms when she perks up. 

She wriggles in his arms impatiently and Eddie's surprised by how quickly she starts to cry, reaching out for you with insistent grabbing hands as he passes her over.

"It's okay," you say softly, tucking her into your chest. 

The difference in body language is unmissable. Where she'd been restless (though more than pleasant) in Eddie's arms, she completely melts into yours. Her little face presses into your neck and her legs curl up. You pat her butt soothingly. "It's okay, baby. Where have you been?" You look up at him for an answer with concern lining your pretty features. 

"I'm only three down," he says. 

 "Oh… Thank you," you say roughly.

Your gratitude is unnecessary. "That's okay. She's real sweet. I opened the door and the first thing she said was, 'good morning,'" he recalls with an easy smile. 

Joy lightens your entire face. He feels his breath catch in his throat. 

"She did? She said that?" 

"Yeah, she did.” He tries not to sound as confused as he feels.

Your eyes close with the force of your smile. You encourages your toddler’s face back and drop your chin to plant kisses all over her tiny cheeks. Eddie feels something foreign yawning in his chest as she starts to laugh, a tinkling sound that's sugar sweet. 

He scratches his neck and pretends to look over his shoulder, tamping his smile back into a neutral expression. 

"She's having trouble talking," you say, lifting your head as the baby's giggles taper off. "She can talk, she says 'mommy' all the time, but she's s'posed to be saying more 'cos she's almost two and I know she can do it, she's so smart, but-" You cut yourself off and laugh all breathless and sheepish. "Sugar, I'm sorry. I mean- Sorry. Thank you," it almost bursts from you, "for bringing her back. I don't know…" 

"You just moved in, right?" You nod. "The lock on the front door- they're all exactly the same, you just gotta shake it and it unlocks. Even someone small as her can could get it open with enough determination." 

"She can be very determined," you say ruefully, voice hushed. You're still patting her butt, swaying her from side to side. Eddie's in awe at how quickly she's settled, her button features crumpled by a big yawn. "Always gets what she wants."

"I bet she does, she's a total heartbreaker." 

You take a step towards him, your beat up sneakers half a foot from his converse. "She can't help it, she was born this pretty," you say. He loves how braggy you sound. 

"I can see where she gets it." 

As soon as he says it he wishes he could take it back. Not because he doesn't think it's true – you're really something else – but because he doesn't want to creep you out. 

Luckily, he's rewarded for his bravery by another beaming smile, your words warm as you tell him, "They said she was the prettiest baby they'd seen in twenty years up in Eskenazi general." 

The name pricks his ears. "You're from Indianapolis?" 

"Kind of." You tilt your head to the side. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name." 

"Eddie." He could applaud himself on how normal he sounds and how not normal he feels. 

"Eddie, I'm Y/N. D'you wanna come in for coffee? Or I can make you some breakfast? To say thank you for taking care of my Junie."

"Junie," he repeats, surprised. 

You shift from foot to foot. "She's a June baby. And she's getting kind of heavy these days, so. Breakfast?" 

He follows you up the steps and through the back door. 

"You can leave it open," you say over your shoulder. 

He catches an eyeful of your bathroom, an organised chaos that smells intoxicating, the rich scent of jasmine heavy in the humidity chased by something softer. Talcum powder, he thinks. 

You murmur something to Junie too quiet to hear and she rouses from her dozing, grizzling weakly. 

"It's breakfast time! Is that what you tried to come and find me for, some breakfast? So impatient," you scold her lightly, smiling all the while as you set her into a bright blue high chair with a big yellow duck with orange flippers printed on the cushioning.

You squeeze one of her feet and frown. "Your socks are wet. Did you go swimming in the grass?" 

Eddie leans against the doorway leading into the kitchen. He doesn't have any experience with kids. You make it look easy, pulling off her stained socks while she wiggles her protest and tickling the soles of her feet with the tip of your finger until she's happy again. 

You turn back to him, socks clutched in your hand. "I'm gonna make oatmeal. Is that something you…" 

"I'm an oatmeal fiend." 

You grin and do a lap to close the front door. "Sit down. I'll get you some coffee? I got milk and brown sugar." 

He throws himself into the seat next to the high chair with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Brown sugar? Sweetness, you're spoiling me." 

Junie laughs. Eddie pulls himself up into a proper sitting position and gawps at her exaggeratedly. "What's funny, little lady?" 

She giggles some more. Eddie leans his elbow on the tray of the high chair and pretends to glare at her. "I can already tell you're trouble." 

"She likes you." 

"Yeah?" he asks, looking at you over his shoulder. 

You're half obscured by cabinets as you poke your head out, an open sack of rolled oats in one hand and a small pan in the other. You nod happily and move to the sink. He can hear the sound of the faucet and the burner clicking on, the saucepan sliding over the stovetop. 

"I like you," he says to Junie quietly, rapping his knuckles on the tray. "But don't tell anyone, okay? I have a reputation." 

"So, uh, how long have you lived here?" you call, almost smothered by the rushing sound of oats tipping into hot water. 

Junie makes a funny face like she might sneeze. Eddie watches. "Since I was a kid." He's smiling as he talks, amazed when Junie starts to smile back. He nods his head gently up and down to encourage her. "Too long. Not that it's not nice here."

Junie looks like she agrees. 

"For sure, but..  not always where you picture yourself," you say tentatively. 

He hums his agreement. "Whatever though, right? A roof is a roof. Even when the roof is made of cardboard and corrugated metal. I mean, all things considered, this is a well kept vessel." 

He's not just trying to make you feel better – you really are making a go of it. There's not nearly as much clutter or decoration as his own home but it's twice as clean and every surface brags a clear affection – you fucking love your daughter. There's a framed photo of her as she looks now at the mantle without a single fingerprint on the glass, baby photos in smaller frames hang on the wall. 

Smallest of all, a photo of the two of you together. Your hands on her shoulders, your lips and nose pressed to her forehead. You're not looking at the camera, but Junie is, and she's exuberant. 

Toys, though few, are arranged neatly under the TV. It's really the type of clean that takes hours. He wonders how you'd ever make time for it. 

"You got a job?"  

"Yeah, I'm waitressing at Benny's?" You say it like a question. "The burger place?"

"Yeah, I know the one. Randolph Lane, near the laundromat. Does Junie go with you?" he asks. He cooes Junie's name and feels very happy when the girl in question smiles some more, reaching out with her hands. Eddie offers up the same palm she'd taken before and lets her squeeze his fingers in a surprisingly tight grip. "She looks like a working girl." 

"Benny said I could bring her with me until she starts daycare next week, so she really is a working girl." You giggle madly and Junie loves the sound, her chubby cheeks rounding as she smiles. 

"I knew it," Eddie whispers conspiringly. "You have the face for it." 

Junie laughs like something is truly hysterical and Eddie can't believe it, squeezing the small girl's smaller fingers in his and waving their joined hands together.

"She really likes you," you say, closer now. 

You set a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. He pulls his hand from Junie's and moves the hot mug away from the high chair though she'd never be able to reach it as you set your own mug and a pint of milk half-full across from him, the brown sugar you'd promised in a pink and orange ceramic dish with a lid that clinks as he pulls it off. 

You double back into the kitchen. This time you bring a baby bottle full of what he guesses is diluted juice and two teaspoons, handing him one with a quiet, "For you." 

"Why thank you," he drawls. 

He spoons a generous hill of crumbly brown sugar into his cup and swirls. 

"The oatmeal needs to soften. Is there anything you want with it? I've got lots of options," you tell him, pouring milk into your own mug. When you're done you and Eddie swap.

He thinks maybe you sound a little nervous and wonders if he's the first neighbour you've met. Or maybe you're still freaked out about Junie. 

He raises his eyebrows but doesn't look at you as he splashes milk into the dark recesses of his coffee, watching as it bursts back up to the surface and turns the drink a more acceptable brown. "What do you usually have?" 

"Junie gets peanut butter and blueberries." 

He tilts his head toward his shoulder just slightly and plants his elbows on the table, the rim of his mug held in tenuous fingertips. 

"What do you get?" he asks, thinking that if the baby gets such a sweet treat you must get something equally impressive. He thinks of raspberries and chia seeds, flakey sea salt and bitter dark chocolate. 

You blink. "What?" 

"What do you have, on your oatmeal?" He punctuates his question with a sip. 

"Salt. Sometimes raisins." 

You make a nice cup of coffee. Eddie holds it in both hands and leans into the table. "That's it?" 

You shrug. Junie starts to whimper about something Eddie doesn't understand. You reach out to hold her hand. "She loves blueberries. Don't you, Junie?"

"Blue," Junie says. 

You're smiling as you take another small spoonful of brown sugar. You lick the tip of your finger and dip it into the well of the spoon until a few grains are sticking to you and hold it up to Junie's lips. "She loves sugar, too, but toddlers aren't s'posed to have it. Or so they say." You smile as she sucks the sugar off before wiping your spit wet finger in your pants. 

Daughter appeased for a moment, you hold your chin in your palm and turn your attention to him. "Where do you work?" 

He imagines this is how a plant feels when the sun comes out. "The Hideout, for now. I'm a very essential and irreplaceable bus boy." He nods very seriously.

"What's after?" 

"Music." 

Your lips curl into an interested smile. "Music? You a singer?" 

"I have a great set of windpipes," he says agreeably, grinning. "But I'm a guitarist." 

"And you're in a band?" 

"I- I was. Yeah, we were good, too, but everybody graduated and our drummer skipped town. I just sub rhythm guitar for whoever wants me to." 

"At the Hideout?" 

"At the Hideout." He decides on his next words carefully. You could come see me play. Weak. You're welcome to come see it for yourself. Too strong? You're welcome to come by one night. Bring Junie. 

He's not asking you on a date; he's a new acquaintance extending an invitation for you to get out and see a new place. That's all it is. 

He opens his mouth to try and suddenly there's a loud clattering. Eddie flinches, blinks, finds that Junie has thrown her bottle of juice across the room. 

Eddie waits for you to maybe tell her off like some of the mom's he's seen at Bradley's. A glare, a hissing remark to be good. 

You reach over and your shirt rides up your back. Eddie averts his gaze guiltily.

You put the bottle back on the tray, giving him an apologetic grimace. "Sorry, Junie has recently discovered that every time she drops something I'll pick it up for her." 

"Smart Junie." 

The bottle falls to the floor again. "She's a genius." You don’t sound entirely pleased, picking the bottle up again and holding it just out of Junie's reach. You shake it up and down. "S'juice. You like juice," you try to reason with her.

Junie reaches for it. You purse your lips. "Be good," you say softly. 

Junie takes the bottle and shakes it. 

It's a small victory and still softens every feature. Your eyes squint, your bottom lip juts out a touch, your nostrils flare with a pleased inhale. 

"Thanks, junebug."

"Tanks," Junie says. 

"Thanks," you repeat, bubbly baby talk. "Thanks. Say thanks, Junie." 

Eddie watches you encourage her over his coffee. It's quiet, peaceful here in a way nowhere else in his life has ever been besides quiet Sunday mornings with his Uncle. There's only the sound of the gas stovetop burning and your happy, patient voice. 

Junie says "Tanks," a couple more times. You don't give up. When she finally says something that sounds almost like a "Thanks," you whip your gaze to his. 

"Did you hear that?" you ask. Your pride is evident. 

He puts down his half empty mug. "She said it." 

"She said it," you repeat, your shoulders moving in the tiniest happy dance he's ever seen. You stand up and take her face into delicate hands. "She's my smarty pants. Aren't you, baby?" 

You dot a kiss over her head and head back into the kitchenette. 

"Tanks," Junie says animatedly, running on an affection high. She accidentally knocks her bottle over.

"Thanks, Junie," Eddie corrects, righting it. 

He finds it easier to baby talk than he imagined. Being nice to little kids – that's easy. Especially as he gets older. When they hit the pre-teen mark is when he starts to steer clear, but even then he can't help doting on them sometimes. Like his club – idiots, annoying idiots, but his annoying idiots. He doesn't hold back with them. He doesn't feel like he's holding back now, either, it's just different. 

Baby's want love. Care and affection. 

And to pull Eddie's hair, apparently. 

Junie's reaching over the gap with a fierce look on her face. Eddie pulls his chair closer and decides to let her try it out. She hadn't given him any reason to worry before, and she doesn't now as she takes a chunk of his hair into her hand. She pulls very gently, likely more that her fingers have gotten caught in his messy curls than any maliciousness. 

"What's your fascination with my hair?" he asks her. 

In her own home Junie's very noisy. When he'd found her outside she hadn't done much besides whimper weakly. Now, she's a riot of gurgling and humming. 

"Are you a singer, Junie?" he asks. 

"She sings all the time! She loves the Muppet Babies on TV, but I- uh, I haven't been able to actually get cable, yet. But when I get paid next week…" You come back into view with two bowls in hand. "She'll be in her oils." 

Eddie says thanks as you put a bowl down in front of him. There's a smiley face there made up of berries with banana slices for eyes. He feels something crawling up his throat and has no idea what it is, and then something completely different when he sees your own bowl, a stretch of plain oatmeal with no delicious adornment. 

You leave and quickly return with a smaller bowl, a baby spoon and a jar of peanut butter.

"Do you want some?" you ask, opening the jar to push the baby spoon inside. "I would've just put it in anyway but then I worried you were allergic." 

You hand it off to Junie and she licks at it happily. 

"Sure, I'll have some. Where's your smiley face?" he asks. 

Your eyes widen slightly. Eddie's not academically inclined but he's never been stupid, and he sees it for what it is, something he's seen in himself and in every other poor kid who didn't bring lunch to school.

"I don't really like bananas," you say. 

Whether you're lying or not isn't something he needs to know.

"Well, you're gonna have to share the blueberries with me, I can't eat this much fruit. I got a hearty diet of chips and microwave oven dinners to uphold." 

Eddie shovels half of the smile into your bowl. You clutch your spoon in your hand like you want to protest, but no way is he gonna watch you miss out on nice things in your own home. 

You smile and don't say anything for a while, rubbing the edge of the bowl with your spoon, your thoughts somewhere else. 

Junie's food sits billowing steam in the middle of the table, which annoys the poor girl endlessly. She wiggles and murmurs and sucks at her empty spoon with a growing line between her brows. 

Eddie eats and feels much better when you finally start to eat your own meal, leaning back in his chair heavily to loll his head towards Junie. "Your mom makes amazing oatmeal. You're really missing out." 

You choke on a laugh and grab her spoon to load up with another small heap of peanut butter. "That is so cruel to lord over her,” you say. “I can't give it to her yet! It's scorching. She has a fragile mouth." 

"I'm sure." 

He picks one of his blueberries out of the bowl and offers it to Junie, who takes it slowly despite her previously rabid hunger 

More oatmeal eating. Eddie ends up giving the rest of his fruit to Junie, your generous dollops of peanut butter more than enough to enjoy the oatmeal. He might argue it doesn't need any adornment at all.

You stir peanut butter into Junie's bowl and wrestle the baby spoon out of her tight grip.

It's a process to watch. You scoop up oatmeal, blow on it until you're sure it's cool, and push it into Junie's mouth efficiently. There's a method to it, the way you lift the handle of the spoon so oatmeal doesn't drip straight back out of her mouth. When it does you scrape the lip gently against her chin to catch it before it ruins her shirt. 

It starts to rain. Hard not to notice, a light drizzle opens and sprays down against the windows and for a moment there's no reaction. Then, gasping, you drop Junie's bowl back onto the table in stress. 

"Shit, the laundry. Are you okay to watch her please? Sorry. I'll be five seconds," you say, already heading for the back door. 

"Sure.” He sounds about as startled as he feels. 

The back door shushes open and your feet dip down the steps. Junie is not very pleased with her breakfast getting put on pause, her face growing as unpleasant as the weather outside.

"Mommy," she says, unhappy and loud.

Eddie doesn't think about it as he picks up her bowl. It's more a pulse of feeling than a thought. Feed her and she won't cry. 

He blows on a spoonful of oatmeal with likely too much vigour. 

Junie's still complaining as he holds it in front of her face. If she's surprised to be fed by somebody who isn't her mom she doesn't show it, her sticky face growing suddenly slack as she realises her oatmeal is back in play. Her lips part.

He feeds her oatmeal, does a very bad job, and tries to gather what's escaped with the spoon as Junie waves her hands around and pokes at spilled food on the white tray in front of her. By the time you come back damp and breathless with the cold chasing your heels he's successfully managed to feed her what was left of her breakfast. He's embarrassed to be caught but tries not to show it. 

"You okay?" he asks, looking you up and down amicably.

"S'only a little rain." You push the laundry basket onto the sofa and smile sheepishly. "You didn't have to do that." 

"And have the precious little lady starve?" 

"Starve!" you repeat, a feigned incredulousness to your tone. 

"She was giving me the puppy dog's," he says, shrugging as he takes the spoon out of Junie's wet fingers. 

She whines for a second at his robbery but seems to realise she's full, picking her juice back up to shake some more. 

You exhale through an open-mouthed smile.

"Thank you. She's gonna love you now, she loves anyone who gives her food. She's a real cadge at the diner. Never seen so much free cherry pie in my life," you remark, turning to what looks like your diaper station. You wade through a mess of things he doesn't recognise and pull out a packet of baby wipes. 

"And her mom? Is her affection so easily garnered?" 

"Takes more than a cherry pie to win me over," you joke, sitting down in your chair in front of the high chair with a soft sigh. You pull out one of the wipes and take Junie's wrists into your hand, wiping her fingers clean methodically. "I need at least a squirt of whipped cream on top before I consider any fondness." 

He chuckles and you laugh too. It's short-lived, your lips pursed as you wipe Junie's face clean. She hates every second of it, writhing in her chair like she's being tortured as you clean a mess of brown and blue from her round chin. 

"Sorry, I'm sorry. Done, done," you say, holding your hands up in surrender. 

She pouts. 

"Don't be like that," you scold her mildly. "Look how lovely and clean you are now! Eddie can see how pretty you look again." 

You slide your hands under her armpits and pull her out of the highchair, groaning. 

"Oh, there you go. Where's Mr. Bear gone, baby? You can play sticky bricks with him so I can get ready for work." 

Work. Work. Where Eddie was going. Where Eddie is very likely supposed to be. He checks the time and his eyes flare, standing up abruptly. You turn  toward him with Junie anchored on your hip, both wearing matching expressions of curiosity.

"Sh-“ Don’t swear around babies. “I'm sorry, I got somewhere to be that I totally spaced on."

You blink. "That's okay." 

"It was sick to meet you," he says. 

You blink some more and walk to the front door, pulling it open as an understanding smile curls your lips. "Super 'sick,'" you say, bemused. "Thank you so much for bringing Junie back. Really, I mean, if anything ever happened to her." You don't finish because it's obvious, your bright tone underlain with a burning fear.

He walks sideways out of the door and down one step, knowing he's super fucking late but not caring too much as he says, "Listen, I can bring you a deadbolt." 

"You could?" 

"Sure thing. Make sure this little lady," and he says it chidingly, directing his gaze at Junie who goes all shy and smiley from the attention, "doesn't go on anymore morning adventures. Especially without her shoes." 

"That would be… that would be awesome, Eddie. Thank you." 

He waves his hand and descends the last of the steps. "I'll come around tomorrow?" 

It's a Saturday today. He's not surprised that you're both working the weekend, but he is surprised that you're working Sunday too when you say, "Would after five be okay?" 

"That's more than okay. Bye, trouble," he says to Junie, bringing a hand up to shield his hair from the drizzling rain. 

You look lovely on the stoop, fresh-faced and in your lounge clothes. You tug Junie up your chest and take her hand into yours. "Say 'bye', Junie," you tell her, waving her hand. "Bye! Bye-bye, Eddie." 

"Bye Junie!" he calls, waving at the little girl with great fervour.

"Bye!" Junie calls back. 

You both grin. 

-

You're super tired from work and exhausted from an upset daughter. Even now Junie fusses. She hasn't been getting her naps because you can't set her down anywhere that isn't the wooden high chair in Benny's restaurant, which is months of a routine disrupted. 

You're not mad at her – the opposite, you feel awful to mess her up like this, awful that she's so upset. Trying your very best to calm her down, you're swaying her from side to side in the middle of your messy living room with your hand patting a steady rhythm into the narrow breadth of her back. 

"I know, baby, I know. I'm sorry. You'll get your nap tomorrow, I promise," you say, trying for softness and missing, desperation eating at your tone.

You try not to have a heart attack at the thought of her first day at the new daycare. I can't think about it, you tell yourself, moving your thoughts onto the Sunday checklist. 

Junie's been fed. Unfortunately, she's the kind of wound up where the only solution you can think of is to get her in bed. If you can get her down soon she'll sleep until maybe 4AM. Not ideal; you'd prefer she slept later tonight and woke up at a healthier 6AM with you. When she does wake, no matter the time, you'll have her eat something substantial for breakfast and take a much needed bath. 

Laundry, bills, cleaning, it all runs through your head. Junie's hair, her snacks for daycare, her clothes. Does she have clean socks for the week? Does she have a vest top for tomorrow? 

Her crying grows loud and you can't think of anything except how overwhelmed you feel. 

"It's okay, baby, just go to sleep." You shush her softly.

Somebody knocks the door. 

You and Junie are similarly nonplussed. Her crying ceases for a second and her head turns in tandem with yours. 

"Oh. Oh, you know who that is, huh?" you ask her, making for the door while her cries are still on pause. "That's our new friend Eddie. You remember Eddie?" 

You pull open the door. There he is on the porch with a bag and a plastic case, wearing a shirt with short sleeves. You realise for the first time that he has tattoos. 

"Hi," you say. 

"Hi. Hi, Junie," he adds, looking at her tear-stained face. "Have I come at a bad time?" 

"No, you're good. You're great, thank you for doing this." You lean back against the door and Eddie skirts past you. That close, you can smell the heavy sage and sandalwood of his cologne and see the beauty mark under his ear, dark hair tucked behind the shell. 

He stops in the middle of the room and puts down the plastic case. "I'm gonna try to do it. Try being the essential word, and I make absolutely no promises." He makes a small cross with his hands leading out and the bag falls from the crook of his elbow to his wrist. 

It sounds like more than a deadbolt. Eddie sees your gaze and jumps into theatrics that hook Junie's attention straight away, ruffling through the bag. He pulls out a VHS tape and then a second, one old and one newer. 

"For your consideration." He presents them grandly against his check, his eyes flitting from your daughter to the tapes in wait of her reaction. 

Junie has no clue what a VHS is. She thinks the TV is magic. 

You swoop in and gasp loudly for Junie's sake, having identified his proffered tapes immediately. 

"You know what that is?" you ask her, pointing at the slipcover. "Muppet Babies! There's Kermit and Fozzy and Rowlf and Gonzo." You touch your finger to each puppet in turn as you reel off their names. 

Junie looks up at you like maybe she remembers, so you start to sing the theme tune for her. "Muppet Babies, they make their dreams come true. Muppet Babies, they'll do the same for you!"

The song jogs her memory. She starts her nonsense singing in a valiant but juvenile effort to recreate the music, dancing in your arms. 

You sing it again for her as you lower her to the floor. She doesn't whine to be picked back up, a great sign that her mood has turned, instead walking to the TV, a small silver combi with a bubble screen. She raises her arms up high and starts hitting the TV stand with her palms flat. 

Eddie looks to you as if he's checking that it's alright before crossing the small space and turning on the TV, your relieved smile more than enough encouragement. He's careful not to step on Junie's feet, surprised when she walks into his leg. She grabs onto his jeans and looks up at him with wide eyes. 

Eddie visibly softens. 

It's kind of crazy to see him, this metalhead dude covered in dark tattoos and wearing safety pinned jeans looking down at a toddler with nothing but patience in his eyes.

He drops his hand very lightly to her tiny back and pushes in the tape. "Hi, sweetheart."

"Hi," Junie says. 

She doesn't let him touch her for very long, falling to her knees to pull out the bin of stickle bricks hiding underneath as Eddie fast forwards through the adverts and then turns up the volume until the Muppet Babies theme is echoing against the wood panelled walls.. 

Junie's eyes dart up the screen, two bricks held in her hands and a great smile on her face. 

"Where did you find that?" you ask, in awe. 

He steps over her and comes back to your side, crossing his arms over his stomach with a smug smile. "Not telling. Ruins the magic. Got The Bugs Bunny Show for when she gets bored of Miss Piggy." 

You smooth down your rumpled black work skirt and smile shyly. "I can pay you back… Next week." 

He looks lost for words for a split-second. It clears fast, and he says, "Tell you a secret. I have a friend down at good old Family Video that let me have 'em for nothing." 

"Yeah?" you ask, unsure. You worry he's lying to make you feel better. 

"Uh-huh. Friends in high places," he brags sarcastically. 

You turn to watch Junie smile for the first time in hours and have to scrub your face to hide how shattered you feel. It's been a really long week. Your relief is a physical thing, a hand on your shoulder. You feel yourself deflate. 

"You okay?" Eddie asks. 

You press the backs of your hands to your cheeks. "Thank you. Really. You saved me." 

"Yeah?" he asks, dialling up the drama. He lifts his chin high. "Would you say, oh, I don't know, that I'm your hero?" 

It's his clear joking tone that saves him. If you'd detected even a smidge of genuine expectancy from him you likely would've shoved him out the door. 

"Mm-hm. My hero," you croon, both of you grinning. 

He turns back to the grocery bag and pulls out a bottle of juice. "I was gonna bring coke but I didn't want Junie to feel left out." 

You move to the cabinets and can't believe how nice he is. You get a little warning stab, that feeling of if it's too good to be true… and shake it off. Maybe it'll turn out that way and you're not gonna do anything stupid to chance it, but he seems like a normal guy. A good neighbour who wants to be your friend.

You're in dire need of one of those. 

"What was wrong with the little lady?" 

You pour juice into a glass for him, less into a glass for you, and a half-inch into a clean baby bottle. "I can't get her down for a nap when she's with me at work and it really caught up to her today. She-" You yawn so wide it hurts your cheeks, covering your face with your arm. 

Eddie looks up from where he's kneeling in front of the open plastic case he'd brought with him. "Caught up to you too, I think." 

"A little." You smile ruefully. 

He holds something red and black in the air. "This'll wake you up," he says. 

It's a small hand drill. He presses down on the trigger twice in quick succession and Junie lies down on the floor to look backwards at him. 

“Woah,” you say.

Junie rolls onto her knees and then stands. She's in that stage of walking where she can mostly do it but has a great tendency to trip over anything that might be in her way, and she stumbles as she approaches. Eddie moves the drill away from her and opens the case wide to show her his array of drill bits. 

"How'd you like them, Junie?" he asks. "Pretty cool, huh?" 

"What do they all do?" you ask. 

"I don't have the foggiest," he says, grinning up at you. "And I really wanted to be cool and pretend that I did. I was going to, but you asked me that and now we're sunk." 

Junie pokes at all the silver metal and turns away, bored, to return to her cartoons. 

"I'm sorry," you say, not sorry at all. 

"You should be." He shakes his hair out. "Can't say woodshop was something I ever paid much attention to in school." 

You squat down beside him where he's counting the screws out for the deadbolt he'd acquired for you, your small cup of juice in hand. The deadbolt isn't new but it's clean of rust and that's all you care about. It doesn't need to do anything besides work. 

"It can't be too hard though, right?" you ask quietly. There isn't any need to talk loudly this close to him and your head is starting to hurt from a long day. 

"I hope not." He passes you the drill. "Hold onto that?" 

He stands and you follow, the deadbolt frame in hand. He turns to your front door and holds it up to the frame, far from the door knob. "Where'd you want this thing?" 

"Wherever you think is best," you say quickly. 

"Got a pencil?" 

You don't. You're ashamed to offer him a cyan blue crayon from Junie's arts and crafts. He takes it with a gleeful smile and uses it to draw a line under the deadbolt's two parts to make sure they fit together once they've been drilled in. 

Junie starts fussing and you squint at her, trying to guess what's wrong. You leave the drill on the small table by the door.

"Junie, you want some dinner?" you ask, walking up behind her where she's stood watching TV. You rub her shoulder and lean over her, your face upside down in front of the TV. "I don't think you're hungry. Let's change that diaper." 

She certainly doesn't want you to. You turn to Eddie where he's making clumsy crosses on the door in place of the screws, his brows furrowed. 

"I'm gonna go get her some jammies," you say, and then wince. "Pajamas." 

"Jammies," he repeats. You hate how happy he looks. 

A hot flush washes over you. "She's the only one I talk to." 

Again, that awful softening of his features. He's got the biggest, brownest eyes you've ever seen. "Why don't you get changed, too? I'm gonna start drilling." He waves the drill and you don't like how loosely he holds it. 

"Please don't ruin the door." 

A wolfish smile. "No promises." 

You leave all the doors open. Eddie's nice but you're not stupid – if he plans on kidnapping her or something evil this is the perfect time. Though, you suppose, he could’ve abducted her when he found her outside.

You shed your uniform and pull on a pair of loose fitting pants. You can't find a clean t-shirt, probably because you own a grand total of three, and you get distracted when the drill starts whirring and Junie screams. 

You know in your heart that it's just a baby scream rather than a sign that she's in pain and you still can't let it lie, rushing down the hall. You can see her, see that she's uninjured, only looking at the drill.

She's excited. 

"You like that?" Eddie asks her. "Is that funny?" 

Junie claps her hands together and reaches for the drill. 

Eddie frowns. "Sorry, you can't have it. I gotta finish the door for your mommy. Why don't you build me something with your bricks, yeah? Something big." 

Junie reaches up for the drill again. 

"I can't, Junie, it's too dangerous. Don't want you to get all mutilated." You wrinkle your nose at what he's saying. He turns the drill towards his chest and touches the drill bit to his collar. "Look, see this? It's not for little hands." 

Junie steps over the case of things on the ground and leans against Eddie's legs, insistent. 

Your mouth drops open as he starts the drill and puts on some fake anguished screams. "Ah! Oh my god, it's eating me!" 

Junie starts laughing at his fake screaming. Her eyes widen, her hands clinging to a rip in his jeans. 

"Think that's funny, do you? Heartless girl. Where's your juice gone, hmm?" He holds the drill behind his back and points to her bottle on the side of the couch where you'd left it. "You want that?" 

He goes over her head to grab it and encourage it into her hands. "Yummy," he says, his eyes moving to where you stand in the door past the kitchen, eyebrows jumping up. "Everything okay?" 

"Screaming," you say, awkward in your breathlessness. 

Eddie's eyes stay resolutely on your face. "She's okay. The drill is exciting. You're shirtless, you know." 

You spin on your heel and back into your room. Your heart a jack hammer, you sieve through clothes until a rumpled t-shirt that smells of deodorant but not sweat appears and shrug into it. 

Junie has a much better selection of clothes. You pick out some matching pajamas for her and a thick pair of socks and tuck them under your arm with her changing matt.

When you return this time, Eddie's drilling a third and fourth hole into the wall next to the door and Junie's watching with the teat of her bottle in her mouth, chewing but not drinking. You lay her mat down on the floor and grab her with a big sigh. 

"Alright, Junie, let's get you all fresh for bed." 

You change her diaper and she doesn't misbehave too much, Eddie's general presence a distraction. Soon she's sitting in your lap, dressed in new pajamas and smelling of talcum powder and baby creams, her wool socks soft as you rub your thumbs into the instep of her feet. 

You sit on the floor watching Eddie drill the screws into the deadbolt frame. Junie slouches against you, her head digging into your chest and her tired arms struggling to hold up her bottle. You hold it up for her, watching Eddie's hands and his arms, how they move. Muscle and ligament tense under the skin, tattoos warping, his bats propelled into flight. 

"I like your tattoos," you say. 

Eddie stops drilling to look over his shoulder. "What?" 

"I- I like your tattoos." 

He lights up. His back straightens out and he turns back to the lock, giving the last screw a final good twist. The door makes a groaning protest and then it's quiet. Just Muppet Babies, Junie's soft suckling and the compliment you'd given adrift in the room. 

"They're pretty sweet," he allows. You can hear how pleased he is though he won't look at you. 

"They're cool. Have you had them long?" 

Eddie starts to tell you all about them, fiddling with something you can't see on the door. 

Junie decides that she doesn't want to be sitting anymore and turns in your arms, hands coveting your neck. You lift her into your chest and rub circles in her back, the weight of her emptying bottle on your shoulder. Soon, her small arms go lax. There's a rush of air as her lips open from the teat and the bottle tumbles to the rug with a dull thud. 

He pulls open the door.  Cool air rushes in. He closes it, slides the deadlock into place, and then pulls hard to make sure it won’t come free. 

It’s solid. 

He laughs triumphantly and Junie stirs. You pat her back and make some quiet shushing sounds and Eddie turns around, a slip of his teeth on show as he grimaces. 

"Sorry," he whispers. 

You shake your head. "You're amazing. Thank you." 

If his cheeks weren't pink they are now. He leans into it, hiding one cheek behind his hair. "Stop," he says, exaggerated. 

"I'll make it good, I swear," you whisper, covering Junie's ear with your hand. "I'll make you the best dinner ever. I'm the best at Kraft's mac and cheese, or-" You flush hot, realising that mac and cheese might not be the treat you think it is to him. "Or we can order in," you say, doing the maths in your head. You can't afford it, but maybe Benny-

"Kraft's mac and cheese? You're spoiling me." 

You beam. 

Eddie cleans up the small mess he's made. You're afraid to move quite yet in case Junie's not really sleeping, though she's a dead weight in your arms, and you watch Eddie walk through the room with both caution and ease. 

"Oh, you don't have to do that,” you say. 

He folds the baby blanket in his hands and puts it back on the armrest of the couch before moving on to the stickle bricks, not looking at you as he says, "Just earning my wage, doll." 

You can't watch him clean your home. You wrap a tight arm around Junie and rise to your feet. Eddie sees your approach and his movements grow faster, rushing to clean up the mess before you can stop him. You don't know who starts first but you're both laughing as you grab his wrist. 

"Stop!" you whisper, mock-furious. "Stop cleaning." 

"Sh, you'll wake the baby." 

You shake your head in bemusement. "I'm gonna go set her down. Then mac and cheese." 

"Take your time. Lots of things for me to clean up out here," he says with a mock sincerity. 

You drift down the hall and turn back to sneak a glance at him. He's pulled Muppet Babies out of the TV and is rewinding it around his thumb, a small smile on his lips as he hums the theme tune to himself. 

With Junie finally in bed for the night you take a quick peek at yourself in the mirror on your nightstand and cringe. You look tired. You give yourself a big smile and feel better; a smile makes even your most exhausted features look pretty. 

You slap on some chapstick. You know, to counter your dry lips. It shines. 

Slipping out of the bedroom, you close the door as quietly as you can manage. 

Eddie's standing at the end of the hallway. You expect to feel scared. Instead, you’re perplexed.

"Hi?" you whisper.

"Can I use the bathroom?" 

You laugh. "Yeah. Course you can." 

You have to pass each other in the hallway. His hip bumps your hip, a short rub of fabric. 

You're still thinking about it when he finds you behind the stove, half asleep with your face in your hand. It's the kind of tired where your eyes keep slipping shut, not aching so much as blurry with a heavy head. 

"You okay?" he asks quietly, sitting down at your cramped table. 

You hum. "Hm. Just tired." You give him a guilty smile as you tip the bigger portion into his bowl.  "Sorry. Mac and cheese with bacon bits for you, my hero." 

"Thanks, sweetheart." 

The fatigue ebbs a little. 

Eddie’s easy to talk to. He makes you laugh. When you say goodnight, he looks back over his shoulder twice.

-

It's a funny coincidence that Eddie sees you Friday night. He never grocery shops on a Friday but he knowd when his uncle gets home in the morning there won’t be anything for him to eat after his shift. He takes a sharp turn towards the TV dinners and there you are at the bottom of the aisle with Junie in the seat of the cart. You're talking to her like you'd talk to anyone, though you didn't sound so saccharine sweet over mac and cheese. Close, but not quite. 

"What do you want?" you're asking. "Ham and pineapple or mini pepperoni?" 

Junie holds her hands out for both boxes. You let her take them and the two of you puzzle over the pizzas, heads bent together. 

"Pepperoni, right?" you ask her, quietly enough that he almost misses it. 

"Peroni," Junie agrees. You let her keep the box and put the other one back in the freezer. 

"Pepperoni," you correct, absentminded. 

"Peroni." 

"Pepper-roni." You sound it out slow, looking at a scrap of paper in your hand. 

"Pepper."

"You'll get there. Do you think we need shampoo this week?" You start jovial, but quickly lose your sprightliness. "Maybe I can put some water in the bottle and just… shake it up. No, we definitely need it." 

Eddie watches you look over the cart. He knows exactly what you're thinking, What can I put back?

"Hey!" he calls, walking a little faster to try and hide how he'd been listening. 

You turn on the spot and smile as soon as you see him. Junie, to his delight, is even more excited. 

"Hi," she says, hands thudding along the cart's handlebar. 

"Hi, Junie. How's my favourite neighbour?" 

She babbles. 

"I'm psyched to hear it. How about you, sweetheart?" he asks, parking his cart next to yours. 

You're looking very tired. Still in your work uniform with a hoodie thrown over the top and your smart flats swapped for a pair of converse with the laces undone. You pinch your cheeks up into a big smile. He guesses that with a baby you've gotten very used to hiding how you feel.

You don't hesitate to lay it down thickly. "I'm really good." 

"Yeah? How's Junie liking daycare?" 

You cover your hands with your sleeves. "She loves it. Loves napping again. She-" You frown. "She doesn't like the mornings. Dropping her off. But after." You nod with a tentative smile "Yeah, it's nice to pick her up." 

"Uh-huh. How's work?" 

"What?" 

"How's work for you? How's Benny's?" he prods. 

"You're asking me about work?" 

"Why wouldn't I be?" 

"Nobody ever asks about work," you say. 

You can't look at him as soon as you've said it, your eyes moving back to the grocery list in hand. It's an old envelope, and it crinkles under your squeezing fingers. 

"Sorry," you mutter. 

Eddie bites back a frown. "Well, I'm asking." 

He holds out his hand for the list and you give it without thinking. He adores your handwriting the second he sees it, scanning the list for anything in this aisle.

"Hey, tell me about it," he prompts at your silence, pushing his cart. It takes you a millisecond to catch up, but when you do you're near frenetic. 

"Well, I messed up like, five different orders today. And when I had Junie it was like they didn't care 'cos she's cute, but now she's not there they get pretty angry pretty quickly." 

"She's like a magic item." 

"Right," you say, sounding like you have no idea what he's talking about. "She was my lucky charm. 'N now when I mess up I gotta practically beg some of those guys to leave Benny alone. He's too nice to me already."

"Are they all terrible?"

"No, the regulars, guys in there everyday, they're all great. They're too generous. Benny's too generous. I know he's fluffing up my tip jar. I hate that. I don't want him-" You flinch. It's strange. Eddie takes a small step closer to you and waits for you to continue, but you've lost all steam. "Sorry, I don't mean to weigh you down with all of this." 

"I asked. And I get it." 

"I don't want him to feel sorry for me." 

"Hey," he says, reaching out for a box of cereal on your list. He presents it to Junie and shakes it around, "who said anything about all that?" 

"No, I know, I just-" 

Junie smiles her approval and he chucks the cereal in your cart with a rattle of metal. "I'm not trying to make you feel worse, I swear. I get it. I- You said he's a nice guy, right? So maybe he doesn't feel sorry for you at all. Maybe he just likes you. He owns that place. I don't think it hurts him to put an extra twenty in your tips." 

Junie reaches up. You turn to her and lean down until your face is a few inches from hers. "I wish I didn't need it," you say quietly. 

"I know." 

Junie puts her hand on your cheek. 

You sniff, not crying or anything like that, only breathing. "Thanks, Junie," you murmur. 

"Mommy," she says. She sounds a little concerned. 

"Let's go get something yummy, baby." You stroke her face lightly. "I'm thinking canned peaches. Or pears, um. Fruit cocktail. And condensed milk," you add, sounding unsure.

"I got a can or two of that laying around," Eddie says, because he knows that shit is expensive. "Wayne hates sweet stuff." 

"I couldn't-" 

"You let me come over for one of those mini pizzas and I'll bring the dessert," he says, like he knows you'll say yes. He doesn't know. Eddie Munson’s an expert in pushing his luck. 

Junie starts clapping her hands together. 

"I think she's decided," you say. 

-

You're terrible with a can opener. You whine to yourself as you struggle to get open the second can. Eddie had insisted on peaches and pears and fruit cocktail, because he wanted to try them all apparently. And then some dramatic speech about little kids getting spoiled.

You can hear him now in the living room with Junie. They're laughing in a way that you're worried about, that guilty, hushed giggling that raises your hackles. 

"Shush," Eddie says, faux-angry, "your mom's gonna hear." 

"Shush," she repeats with much more enthusiasm. 

"You shush! Look, don't do that, Junie, you're gonna get it tangled in your hair," he says. 

You carry the can and can opener with you into the living room. Something about tangled hair gets your heart racing. 

"Eddie, please don't let her get stickies in her hair," you say quickly. 

"They're called stickles," he says, dropping back onto his hands, head over his shoulder to give you a bright-eyed smile. 

"I know what they're called. Junie can't say stickles." 

"Stickles," she says. 

"She couldn't when I got them," you amend. 

He's up quicker than you can really take in, hands extended. "Let me do it," he says. 

He works the can out of your fingers. It's more contact than you've had with somebody who wasn't your daughter in a very long time and it leaves you shell-shocked. Eyes on his nice hands, bigger than yours with thicker fingers and his riot of rings. He presses the can to his chest and hooks the opener, peeking between it and you intermittently. 

"Go see what we made for you," he encourages. "I'll do it." 

His arm brushes yours as he moves to the kitchen and that's worse than his fingers. You rub where he'd touched and drop down on your knees next to Junie, looking over the stickle bricks with a smile. It's a heart, poorly construed and of tens of colours. It falls apart when she tries to pick it up so you help her remake it, cooing. 

"Thanks, baby. This is for me, huh? You're so sweet." Your voice drops to a murmur. "My sweet girl. Wanna cuddle?" 

You open your arms out and she doesn't seem very interested. "Please?" you ask, vying for her waist. 

She lets you pull her into your lap. When you actually start to hug her she does her lovely melting thing that she always does, a floppy fish in your arms but with tiny squeezing hands. You giggle at her antics and lift her up so her face falls into your neck. 

"Thanks for my heart, Junebug." She snuggles her head into your neck, hair squished to your skin. "I love you," you whisper, rubbing her back. 

"The works," Eddie announces grandly as he appears, two bowls in hand.

"Eddie, that's too much for her." 

"She's a growing girl." 

"A growing girl with a tiny tummy," you say turning her around in your arms. "Tell you what, you have that one," you point to the biggest one, "and we'll share that one." 

"How about you share the big one?" he asks, though it hardly sounds like a question. He sits down and places the bowl in her lap. 

You grab the spoon before she can and stir up some of the fruits. "Wow, look at this! You gonna say thanks? Thanks Eddie.”

She doesn’t say thanks — her mouth is too far open to form words. You make quick work of shovelling fruit and condensed milk inside, chilled enough that she shivers in your arms. 

“Yeah, that’s good,” you say agreeably.

She gets enthusiastic enough to take the spoon and you let her, even when she totally mauls the food, eating so loudly that Muppet Babies becomes inaudible. 

Eddie eats slowly. You can feel his gaze. “You’re not gonna have any?” he asks. 

You’d felt it coming. Your answer is clumsy anyways. “No, I will. I just… I always have her leftovers,” you say, sheepish. 

He stands up. 

You’re gonna ask why when Junie tips fruit down your legs, cold on the naked skin of your ankle. You dab at your pajamas with a small sigh. There’s no point in getting upset. She’s a messy eater but they all are at this age. Honestly, it’s nice to see her attempting to use a spoon rather than her hands. 

“You’re doing a good job,” you say. You’re not totally sure who you’re talking to. 

“Tada!” Eddie cheers, wielding a third bowl of fruit. “Swap with me?”

“What?”

“You think Junie’ll come sit in my lap?” he asks. He doesn’t wait, really. He holds out the bowl and you take it on impulse as he sits down heavily. 

He takes her into his lap with a cheerful groan. “Oh, c’mere, sweetheart. There’s enough milk on your chin to bake a cake.” He wipes it with his hand. He doesn’t so much as wince at the mess. 

You stare. He eases the spoon out of her grip and scrapes up a half-spoonful of what looks like pear and feeds it to her with the same kind of deftness of hand that’d taken you months to learn. 

He can feel your gaze, evidently, because he looks up. There, you catch it, that slither of insecurity he hides well. 

You pick up your bowl and start eating. It’s the nicest thing you’ve eaten in almost two years. You’d die for Junie. You’d do worse. But to eat, to know she’s fed — gorged — to know you can sit here and eat this whole bowl of fruit all to yourself and you won’t have to put it down, that’s heaven. It’s better, because you never let yourself have anything nice if you can help it. 

The fruit turns to a lump in your throat and you swallow it, sniffling. Your lashes grow heavy with unshed tears and you keep your gaze resolutely on your dessert. When was the last time you had something this nice all to yourself? When was the last time somebody ever went out of their way to be this nice?

It’s a small gesture and a huge one. A tear dribbles down your cheek. You lick it away and keep on eating. 

-

Eddie starts to come around every Friday. It’s a good deal; you make dinner and he makes dessert. After that first time he makes it his mission to give you heaping bowls too much to eat most of the time. Soon, he’s coming a few days a week, not always long, sometimes until the late hours, though you tell him desserts are a Friday only occasion. He complies grudgingly. 

You make your first friend in years, and it’s so sweet you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

Or what possesses you to offer to cut his hair. 

Eddie's sitting on the couch with Junie, his big thigh to her little one and a picture book spread between them whilst you clean the kitchen. He's not reading to her – she's trying to read to him. She can't read, of course, but she can remember some of the words in relation to the pictures. She pokes at the blue cat and says blue. She pokes at the blue dog and says blue. She also points at the red cat and says blue. It's a learning curve. 

Eddie gives corrections and encouragements just as you would. You smile at him from behind your cup of water. 

"He's red, sweetheart," he murmurs, arm around her shoulder to hold the book's edges. "Red cat." 

"Red cat," she repeats with enough accuracy to make you choke on your water. 

Eddie gasps almost as loud as you do. "Right! Red cat! You're so smart, junebug, I can't believe it," he praises, squeezing her shoulder. His gaze meets yours and he smiles. 

You send him back your sweetest smile. If he wasn't always so nice to you you'd like him anyway because of how he treats Junie, like she's the fucking sun. 

She gets so excited when other people are happy that she starts laughing, standing up and trampling all over his legs to give him a hug. She's given him half hugs, she's fallen asleep by his side and loves to pet his hair, but this is a proper, tactile hug. Her arms wind around his neck with purpose and as soon as his surprise has faded he brings his arms up to hug her in turn, laughing delightedly. 

"You're such a smarty-pants," he praises, rubbing her back with a boyish brashness. 

She squeals as he squeezes her, his fingers digging into her ribs. Never cruel, only tickling her. She eats up every second of it and buries her face in his neck, laughing her wound up baby laugh that always brings a smile to your face. 

"Ooh, she's so smart. First blue, then red. Next you'll be saying indigo, and vermillion, and-" 

He cuts off when Junie gets one of her nails caught in his hair. She jolts and whines like it hurts and he goes rigid. You move forward to play mediator but he's already pulling her away gently and making small shushing sounds. "Chill out," he chides lightly, "I got it. Here." He pulls the hair from under her fingernail and rubs the pad of his thumb over her hand. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he apologises, pouting at her scowl. He envelops her hand in his and waves it around. "Forgive me?" 

She doesn't learn her lesson, pushing her hands back into his hair, probably less kind than what’s ideal. Eddie doesn't flinch. 

You sit on the armrest gingerly. "Can I ask you something?"

Eddie looks over Junie’s head. "What's that?" 

"Have you always had long hair?" 

He doesn't balk. "No, of course not. I fu-" He clears his throat. "My mom was the best, and I fit in just like everybody else growing up. When I ended up with Wayne I was-" He smiles. It's the kind of rueful grimace that says, You didn't ask for this.

You smile encouragingly.

He drops his gaze to Junie, worming his arms around her in a loose hug as she continues to play with his hair. "I was mad about everything, and I remember him asking when I wanted to get my hair trimmed and I said ‘never’. Took a few years for it to grow past the awkward stage," he bares his teeth and nods toward his shoulder, as if allowing his past misdemeanour. "But now I'd say it looks pretty sweet." 

"I love your hair," you say. 

Eddie beams. "You don't think it's too long?" 

Emboldened by his reaction, you slip off of the armrest to sit next to him, turning in until your knees touch. Junie, loyal as she is, climbs straight into your lap with a babble. 

You pat her back with one hand and raise the other cautiously for permission. Eddie flares his eyes wide, as if to say, You want to? Go on. 

You take a lock of his hair between your fingers like Junie had moments before. "I like it like this." 

"But?" 

You look at the ends, an inch of limpness where the rest curls. "You haven't had it cut since you were a kid?" 

"Maybe not that long, but it's been a while. I do it myself sometimes." He gestures to his bangs. He speaks quietly. A rarity though not unknown for him to be so hushed. 

You tuck the curl you'd been examining behind his ear carefully. 

"Do you think my hair looks good?" you ask. 

"Sh- Sorry, of course I do. I swear I was gonna-"

You shake your head, laughing. "Not like that. What I mean is, I cut my own hair. I cut Junie's, too, and I could do yours if you wanted me to." 

He goes quiet. 

"Only if you wanted. I know it's a lot of trust, so-" 

"Would you do it now?" 

You hold Junie's head away from yours to prevent a loving headbut. "Right now?" 

"I'm in dire need." 

He throws his big brown puppy dog eyes your way and you couldn't say no if you wanted to. 

You explain how he needs to get it wet first and how the shower head in the bathroom doesn't detach. "It's, like, built into the wall." 

"I could go home, come back?" he suggests. 

"I can do it over the sink?" 

-

Eddie can't remember the last time somebody washed his hair for him. He knows there must've been a time, some place in his life where his mom or dad had done it for him. He thinks that, if he'd asked, Wayne would've tried it once or twice growing up, but now Eddie's most definitely at the age where having his hair washed is a foreign luxury. 

And it does feel luxurious.

It shouldn't; the sink basin is very small as they tend to be in the trailer kitchenettes – small sink, small stove, small small small – and Eddie has to crane his neck. Already the space between his shoulder blades aches from being bent over, and he can't breathe well, smothered by steam. 

But your hands. One shields his eyes from run off, a gesture unnecessary and far from lost on him, while the other massages shampoo into his scalp. He'd been surprised when you started because you hadn't mentioned washing his hair, and he'd said, "You don't have to do that." 

You'd hummed. "Well, it's kind of a waste not to." 

That was that. 

Your nails scratch lightly against his scalp and if his eyes weren't already closed they would've fluttered shut. He nibbles his lip and tries very hard not to show outwardly how nice it feels. Your left upper arm rubs against his back as you scrub at his roots, your right soaking wet beside his face, covering his eyes uselessly. He doesn't mention it. All this touching, he doesn't want it to end.

Your proximity honest-to-God sets him on fire. Your body pressed to his is a flame over his ribs. 

"Maybe we shouldn't cut it at all," you say, stroking wet bangs away from his forehead. "It's soooo long." 

"Can’t do it?" he teases.

"Keep your eyes closed, okay? I'm gonna rinse." 

It's a comforting process. You dip your cup into the water. It fills with a wet glug, the rim shushing against the basin's bottom. You hold it over his head and pour carefully, heat caressing his scalp as the soap is washed away. 

It's over too soon. You grab the towel you'd procured and tuck it around his shoulders, wringing all the excess water from his curls back into the sink. You encourage his head up wordlessly and he stands there, arms useless against the countertops edge, water sloughing down his face as you press the ends flat between your hands. 

You lift his head and push his hair back with your hands, raking your fingers through it and laughing as soon as his face appears. "Eddie! I'm sorry, you're totally drowning." 

He chuckles. They fade away as you pinch the corner of the towel and start to dab his face dry, dragging the rough material over his cheeks with an expression he can't read on your pretty features. Almost pensive, not quite. 

"There," you say under your breath. "Saved you." 

"My hero." 

You smile at him softly before spinning on your heel. "I gotta find the hairbrush. And the good scissors." You look into the living room quickly and then turn to the hall leading to your bedroom. 

Eddie looks into the living room too. Junie's not upto much, only watching TV, unusually subdued. He doesn't disturb her despite the itch to go over and play.

One of the muppets starts laughing about something and she laughs too. 

"What are you smiling about?" you whisper from behind him. 

"Nothing," he says quickly.

You raise your eyebrows. "She has a nice laugh, right? Doesn't matter how bad I feel, she laughs and everything's okay for a little while." 

He feels a fond stab in his chest. "Her laugh's like yours." 

"I guess we do sound the same." 

You do, but it's not really what he'd meant. 

The metal sound of scissors snapping. You wield them at him faux-threateningly and shepherd him into a chair you've dragged to the middle of the kitchen. 

Eddie fights goosebumps as you pull a brush through his hair, loses when you take a lock at the front between two fingers and stop about an inch and a half from the end. 

"I'm gonna do that much, okay?" 

You're a quiet hairdresser. Eddie doesn't care, he can talk for Indiana, but there's something so sweetly simple about the quietude, just your hands in his hair, the snipping of your scissors and Junie's occasional excited chattering. You start to hum a song Eddie doesn't recognise about halfway through. It's melancholy. He doubts you realise what you're doing. 

You draw silent as you round to the front. Eddie watches your hands work for what feels like hours. You have really pretty hands, not perfect, burnt fingertips and neat little nails. They smell like honey hand soap.

You pull two locks from the front together to make sure they're the same length. His curls will hide any discrepancy, he knows from experience, but he doesn't want to tell you that. Selfishly, he wants that extra time with you this close. 

You work your way between his legs to comb his half-dried bangs. Eddie looks up at you with wide eyes.

"You want me to trim these, too?" you ask quietly. 

"If you please." 

You huff a laugh through your nose and start to trim his bangs carefully. He closes his eyes, and maybe it's the fact that he can't see you that gives him the confidence to reach out for your hip, a touch that can't be defined as amicable. He curls his fingers into the soft material of your shirt and feels the heat of your skin underneath. 

You draw closer, as close as you can be. 

"What made you decide on bangs?" you ask. 

"Zits, mostly." 

He can feel your laugh under his hand. 

"I used to… I used to powder my face," you confide, a murmur, "like, an inch thick to try and hide everything. Being pregnant makes you so-" You pause to snip some hair, comb it away. It tickles his face. "Well, it makes you spotty. Or it made me spotty. It actually made me really sick." 

"That's must've sucked," he says earnestly. 

"It- Yeah. I guess it did. I don't know." 

He hadn't meant to bring up something unhappy, but he's hungry to know. "Were you on your own?" 

"Mostly." 

"What was the worst part?" 

"Being scared all the time."

He'd been expecting morning sickness or aching feet. "You were scared?" 

"I honestly thought I was gonna die, Eddie." 

He opens his eyes and leans back in his chair, hand flexing over your hip, as he tries to tamp down his surprise. 

"It was," you mess with his bangs with the tip of your ring finger, "hard. I felt sick all the time, and when I didn't I would make myself sick worrying about her. What if I eat something or I catch something and it hurts her? What if- what if it all works out perfectly and then I can't look after her?" 

"Did it work out perfect?" 

You rub your lips together. "Uh, I guess so. It took a long time, and it hurt," you sound especially unhappy with that part. 

He strokes up your waist, wanting to soothe the small crease between your eyebrows. "By yourself?" 

"Yeah, by myself." 

"I'm sorry." 

You tuck his hair behind his ear and grin at him. "Now what are you sorry for?" Your hand lingers near his cheek. Slowly, you turn it, pressing the knuckle of your index finger into the skin under his eye and rubbing a small line. He worries he’s in love with you right then and there. "Not like you're the one who knocked me up." 

You drop your hand and Eddie really doesn't want you to go anywhere, his grip kind but steadfast, bringing the other arm behind your back in a loose hug. "Who was it?" 

"Just some guy. Nobody. Nobody worth thinking about." 

"How old were you?" he asks. 

"Why are you asking me all this stuff?"

"I wanna know about you." 

You bring your hands to the towel around his neck and pull on it mildly. "I was sixteen. Seventeen when I had her." 

He drags his fingertips up and down the small of your back lightly, almost like he's playing guitar. "I'm sorry you were all by yourself. That young. When I was sixteen I was still watching The Bugs Bunny Show."

You giggle and your hands move up to the side of his neck. He can hardly breathe, afraid to dispel whatever enchantment it is that he's under. 

"Could be worse, huh? I'm nineteen and I still watch Muppet Babies," you joke. 

"Why wouldn't you? It's the pinnacle of modern television." 

"Yeah?" 

Your beaming smile hits him straight in the chest. He thinks about how beautiful you look and can't stop, hiding his face in your stomach to stop from saying something stupid, laughing loud. You laugh in tandem, hugging the back of his head until your giggles peter out. 

A small hand on his arm. You both turn at the same time and find a very unhappy Junie.

"What?" you ask her. Then, teasing, "Are you jealous?" 

You lean down to pick her up. Eddie's gutted to lose your touch and then quickly exuberant when Junie ducks out of your arms to grab at his legs. 

"Oh my god, yes," he says, holding out his hands. 

Junie tries to take them and he slips them under his arm, pulling her onto his thigh with a big sigh. The sigh is half the fun, a theatrical reluctance when really he's always happy to have her climbing on him. 

As soon as she's in his lap she's pleased, turning her head so she can watch the TV across the room. 

You roll your eyes at his smug smile. "Shut up. She just wants what other people have." 

"And you had me?" 

"Shut up, Munson, seriously," you say. You don't sound half as mad as you're trying to. 

Eddie takes a drying curl between his fingers and pokes at the side of Junie's face. "Whatever you want, sweetheart," he says, grinning when your daughter starts to squirm on his thigh. 

He grins at her and tickles her until she's curling in with her chin dropped to her chest, smiling despite herself. 

His fondness colours every word as he croons, "I got you." 

Junie sounds about as outraged as a toddler can be when he tickles her nose and then drags the tip of the freshly trimmed curl under her eye. He draws a big circle around one of her cheeks until it's kissing her chin. She dissolves into giggles while squirming to get away from him and so he stops, only for her to blink and tug at his wrist. 

He tickles her until she's screaming. 

You pause on your knees where you'd been sweeping up his trimmed hair to look up at her and he's struck with guilt. "Y/N, you don't have to do that. I'll do it." 

"No, you're okay." 

Eddie finds his gaze drawn to your thighs, spread out as they are in your kneeling position, and then stolen by Junie as she almost topples off of his lap. 

"I think…" he begins quietly, speaking to Junie though it's just as much for you, "that your mom deserves something nice for my haircut. What do you think?" 

"I don't think that," you say. 

"Wasn't asking you," he says seriously. Back in baby mode he continues,  "What's mommy like, huh? What's her favourite thing in the whole world, besides you?" 

"Sleep," you say. 

"Well, I can't help you there." 

"You help me there all the time. Junie sleeps like a log every Friday." 

"Food coma," he says knowledgeably. 

"You really don't have to get me anything, Eddie. My services were administered charitably." 

He pushes his hands behind Junie's back and pulls her to his chest before standing. When he has her secure in one arm he pulls the chair back to your small table and tucks it in.

"Get up," he says to you. "I'll do it, alright? Swap with me." 

You ignore him until he starts kicking you in the leg. "You're ridiculous!"

"You're ridiculous. Seriously, get up. You're not a serf." He returns your glare. "I'm a big boy, I can clean up after myself." 

"It's my house." 

"If you don't let me-" 

"Christ! Okay." You drop the dustpan and brush sullenly, wiping your hands together as you stand before taking Junie out of his arms. "I'll make dinner." 

"No you won't! I'm gonna order takeout," he says factually, already on his knees and sweeping. 

"No you're not." 

"I am. Me and June already talked about it. She's craving Marino's pizza." 

"I'm not gonna let you use the phone." 

"I'll walk to my place and order the pizza to here." 

"Eddie-" 

"Why are you being a hardass?" he asks. 

"Fine! God, clean up your gross hair and order your stupid pizza. You're making me crazy," you say, collapsing onto the sofa with a little oomf, Junie's weight hitting you hard in the chest. She moves into a sitting position and pulls your shirt up, hands moving across the space under your chest. 

Eddie throws himself into cleaning all the mess you'd made for him, the hair and the towel and the sopping wet draining board. He washes the dirty baby bowl on the side and fills up one of Junie's bottles with water, then a glass for you. He hasn't seen either of you drinking a thing since he's been here, likely his fault for distracting you. 

He's about to call for pizza when he peers past the cabinets and sees you dozing on the couch. He decides pizza can wait until tomorrow; it's later than he realised. 

Junie's halfway across the room with Mr. Bear playing make believe. She talks and talks and talks, gibberish to him but what's likely an unending, complicated storyline, no doubt. 

Eddie approaches with the bottle already outstretched. "Junie," he says, and when she doesn't answer, "Junebug. Junie. Junie." Each iteration of her name softer and sweeter than the first, hoping to entice her in. 

He holds the bottle in front of her face.

She finally looks up with a pout. 

"For you," he says, offering the water. 

She seems mildly interested as she takes it, turning back to her teddy and talking around the teat like it's not there. 

You're struggling to keep your eyes open. Eddie gives the room a quick once over before kneeling down in front of you, tugging your shirt down to cover your exposed tummy as he says, "I should head home." 

You blink at him and turn onto your side, cheek squishing into the couch cushion. 

"Okay? Why don't you and Junebug head to bed?" he asks, using a tone not far from what he'd use with your daughter. 

"You know, her full name's Juniper," you whisper. 

He didn't know. "Really? I love that." 

You wrinkle your nose, sounding very tired as you continue, "But someone told me it sounded like a name for a cat. So I've called her Junie ever since."

"It doesn't sound like a cat's name," he placates. "It's beautiful. You chose well." 

"Yeah?" 

Eddie smiles at you fondly, eyes tracing down your nose to your lips, shiny with balm. He tilts his head to the side to mimic yours. He could kiss you. 

"Sounds like the name of an elf. Juniper Lightfoot, or… Goldwind. She could even be a mage. Juniper the Brave." 

"Juniper the Loveliest," you say, and then grin. "Juniper the Hungriest." 

"Juniper the All Great and Hungriest," Eddie says decidedly. 

"Would you make her a hero, in your game?" you ask. 

"Of course I would. She wouldn't even need to divide, she'd just conquer." 

"What about me?" 

"What, would you be a hero?" 

You nod. He doesn't know why, but he thinks his answer is going to hold a lot of weight with you. 

"You would be," he starts quietly, words painted slowly as he raises a hand to rest on your wrist, pinky finger spread over the hill of your thumb, "a fighter. With insight and survival." 

"I don't know what that means," you say. 

He leans in. "It means yes, you'd be a hero. You'd save kingdoms. Slay dragons." He squeezes your wrist. 

"I think I better leave all that stuff for Junie. I'll just cheer you guys on from the sidelines." 

"You're her mom, she can't do it without you. And even if she could I bet she wouldn't want to. Where's all the fun in guts and glory if you can't share it?" he asks, rubbing his thumb over your skin.

Your eyes shut. Eddie doesn't know if it's from fatigue or a want to end this conversation. He feels marginally embarrassed for descending into nerd metaphor with you, but he thinks it's the kind of thing you needed to hear. He thinks if Junie could understand how often her mom prioritises her and misses out for her she'd want to fix that. Eddie doesn't know you half as well as she does and it breaks his heart sometimes to watch you insist on a smaller portion, to watch you put things back at the grocery store because she wants a box of milk duds, even to watch you wear yourself out ironing baby clothes in the only pair of pajamas you own. 

"Make sure you lock the deadbolt behind me," he says carefully. You hum. He gives your wrist one last squeeze. 

Junie looks tired in that she's getting agitated, whimpering under her breath. Eddie ducks down to give her upper arm a good rub. "Why don't you go cuddle with your mom?" he asks her, turning her by the shoulder so that you're in her eye-line. "Go have a lie down." 

He doesn't know whether what he says makes any difference but you extend your arms out and Junie walks towards you, big staggered steps that make him laugh to himself as he pushes into his unlaced converse. 

"Don't forget to lock up," he says in place of a farewell. 

"Goodnight, Eddie," you say. 

He waves. You're both too tired to wave back. 

He's surprised to find his Uncle Wayne still home when he gets in, shoving into his work boots with a grunted hello.

"Hey." 

"Did you cut your hair?" Wayne asks, perplexed, a little gruff. 

"Junie's mom did it for me." 

"'Junie's mom,'" Wayne quotes dryly, slugging his bag over his shoulder. He's heard all about Junie's mom.

Eddie scratches the back of his neck and splutters when a big hand claps his back, a demonstration of Wayne's pity as he passes through the open door. 

Eddie spins to watch him jog down the steps. "We're friends," Eddie calls. 

"Don't be dumb," his uncle says without turning back. 

"I'm not exactly known for being smart," Eddie says to himself, cheeks heated by a furious blush. 

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist | multi-chapter

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

JESUS CHRIST WHY CANT PEOPLE LET OTHERS HAVE FUN?? LIKE OKAY IF SOMEONE JUST BECAME A STRANGER THINGS FAN LIKE WHO ACTUALLY GIVES A FUCK? WHY ARE WE GATE KEEPING A SHOW? LIKE I HATE PEOPLR ON TIKTOK WHO ARE LIKE “oh it’s the new stranger things fans who are obsessed with eddie and love chrissy wake up”, “if i hear chrissy wake up one more time i swear” SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. LET THEM HAVE THEIR FUN. LIKE I SAW SOMEONE EDIT THEMSELVES INTO A SCENE WITH EDDIE AND THEY WERE LITERALLY JUST TALKING AND GOT BANNED FOR IT? LIKE WTF? LET THEM HAVE THEIR FUN? like i get some of it, i saw that one tiktok where it was eddie saying like “yn your body is 90 percent water” and yn was like “yeah so?” and he was like “daddies thirsty” yeah i get maybe that could make some people uncomfortable and at some points may be considered cringey but that doesn’t make them a new fan or a bad person? leave them alone. please. god. if someone even is a new fan why is it a big deal? i’ve been a fan since the show first ever came out and i genuinely like the song “chrissy wake up” because it’s catchy and i love eddie munson because i relate to him in the sense i was bullied too, like for being different and just because people are assholes. TW: mentions of smut and audio porn, also death threats and suicide. people were literally harassing the guy who made the audio “getting dicked down by eddie munson” and sending him death threats and telling him to kill himself because “it was weird and gross” etc. if you don’t like it stay curious and don’t check it out? like c’mon now. and they’re all like “if eddie saw this he’d make fun of them” NO TF HE WOULD NOT? he literally got bullied his whole life, why would he do that to them as well? in my opinion, he’d be flattered people are even talking about him. some of y’all act like you know him top to bottom. and don’t get me started on the eddie x steve or the eddie x chrissy battle going on on tiktok right now. NEITHER OF THEM HAD ENOUGH SCREENTIME WITH HIM. EDDIE AND CHRISSY ONLY HUG OUT BC SHE WANTED DRUGS, AND ANYTIME EDDIE TALKED TO STEVE HE WAS ANNOYED. NEITHER SHIPS MAKES SINCE BUT WHO GIVES A FUCK? LET PEOPLE HAVE FUN. sorry about this rant to my moots and followers 😭 needed to get it out of my system. if your a person like this, meaning you judge someone based off their ships, when they joined a fandom, or just a bully DNI WITH ME AT ALL. i also don’t mean this in a rude way (the paragraph)

So.. seeing you this hyped for Eddie (like most of us are) are we going to get a one shot with him? Maybe with a cheerleader!reader.. someone who would call him out on his bullshit or when he makes a scene (like in the cafeteria) but has like the biggest soft spot for him?

☠︎ 𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚢 &⃨ 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 ☠︎ -𝙴.𝙼.

A/N: !Body, Ethnicity & Skin color Neutral!Reader!! Here’s a lil something for our obsessed butts. I have such a soft spot for this crazy metalhead, it's not even funny.

CW: Fluff | Mentions of Bullying/Satanism/D&D, Drugs & selling & use of (Weed), Secret Relationship, Making-out,

**********

*picture does not describe the looks of the reader*

**********

Eddie 'The Freak' Munson. He is loud, unhinged, and revved about a news article he reads to his friends.

"The Devil has come to America. Dungeons and Dragons, at first regarded as a harmless game of make-believe, now has both parents and psychologists concerned," he reads.

Oh, it's about his favorite game, the sole reason for The Hellfire Club to exist. He became interested in this fantasy game after he began living with his uncle, and since then, it's part of his personality, making him know words so impressive that you wouldn't think of Eddie knowing how to use them or even knowing them at all.

"Studies have linked violent behavior to the game, saying it promotes satanic worship, ritual sacrifice, sodomy, suicide, and even... Murder."

I stand next to the new student and cheerleader; I had promised our guidance counselor to show around a little.

"What are you looking at?" the new student asks me curiously, following my gaze. "Oh, he's cute. Who's that?" "Eddie Munson," I tell her with a smile. "He looks like a rockstar." I nod, "Yeah..."

My gaze returns to Eddie as he jumps on his cafeteria table, screaming around and making a scene. "...But as long as you're into band or science...or parties," he begins calling the whole cafeteria out, earning some middle fingers directed at him.

He does so often. In his opinion, the easiest way of defense is to attack... Or play crazy – never figured out if he's even aware of how crazy he can be. For his title of freak, he sadly has mostly only himself to blame.

The girl next to me looks shocked. "Oh Lord, he's crazy, isn't he?" I nod, "A little."

Eddie, meanwhile, continues his rant. "Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets..."

Oh no. His big mouth got him into trouble with the jock several times. I take an intuitive step forward, ready to intervene.

"Loser!" one calls at him as though that word still holds any power to hurt Eddie.

Jason, the basketball team captain, stands up, "You want something, freak?" he asks him, egging Eddie on to pull a grimace with his fingers like devil's horns and his tongue out.

"Oh, Eddie," I mumble, shaking my head. He'd have an easier time being less... Eddie. But he simply can't help himself.

Thankfully the attention whore inside him seems sedated, and he feels like having made his point clear.

"It's forced conforming," he tells his friends in a toned-down voice, about to get off the table. "That's what's..." He jumps off the table, yelling again, almost giving our teacher a heart attack, "...killing the kids!"

I grab the new girl's hand and quickly walk past Eddie; he steps back, almost bowing while letting us pass peacefully. Then he sits down at his table again, continuing the conversation in a normal tone without show.

"He's so scary," the girl tells me as we sit down at the cheerleader table. I shrug, "Dogs that bark, don't bite."

"So you're not afraid of him?" "Of Eddie?" I ask, giggling. "No, never. I only ever felt safe with him."

"They grew up together," Chrissy explains to the freshman sitting beside me. "They were best friends until a few years ago."

The girl looks at me. "Really?" she asks. "What happened?" I shrug. "Nothing. We grew apart, happens sometimes." "She also became a cheerleader around that time," Chrissy adds sweetly.

"Wow, so a cheerleader and- and the freak were friends," the new girl says, baffled, Chrissy turning her nose.

"That's not a nice thing to call him," she lectures the girl gently while her hand brushes over mine, and we smile at each other.

I sneak another look at Eddie. He's now relaxed, squatting between the newest members of his club and talking to them.

"Oh," I exclaim, looking back at Chrissy, "I almost forgot, I have a doctor's appointment today. Won't make it to training. I'm sorry." She shakes her head, "Oh, don't worry. Your health comes first," she assures me. "I have to leave earlier today as well."

After class, I wait for a little while until most people have left. It's quieter, and less nosy students around; I like it better that way.

I walk through the school's parking lot, passing Eddies old, fucked-up van. The second I am at its side door, it opens. I am grabbed by two strong arms and pulled in.

Before I can even yelp in surprise, my back is pressed against the air mattress in the back of the van. Soft lips press on mine while coarse hands wander all over my body.

I let myself fall into the kiss, and as it ends, I grin against those lips. "Hey." "Hi, baby," Eddie whispers back, pecking my lips once more before crawling off me and closing the van's door.

Once that's down, he lays down next to me, pulling a joint out of his pocket, lighting it, and handing it to me. I take a few deep hits before blowing some smoke into Eddie's face, making him shake his head.

"Hey, don't be mean to your boyfriend," he tells me, pouting, taking the joint. "I wouldn't be mean if you wouldn't always make such scenes."

He holds the smoke in his lugs for a couple of seconds, letting it out as he realizes what I'm talking about. "Oh, you mean the thing at the cafeteria." I nod. "Yes, the thing at the cafeteria."

"You know I was right, though. We're easy targets because a game where you use your fantasy is too scary for those thinking only in the pre-given boxes," he says, grabbing the ashtray I made him in my ceramics class the year I had to repeat freshman year because Cheerleading and sneaking around with Eddie had become too much fun.

"Yes, you were. But have you ever thought about the fact that you catch more bees with honey than vinegar?" I ask Eddie, and he kisses my nose, handing me the joint back.

"But vinegar has them pull funny faces," he smiles. I smile back, "And call you a freak." "We are the beauty and the freak. You knew it would be like this when you fell for me."

Eddie and I were best friends, but I don't think that there was ever a moment when I didn't love him. He's my person, my soulmate, my freak.

I climb on his lap, finishing the joint, "Do you know how many girls would dump your ass for being such an awful attention whore? That behavior will one day come to bite you in the ass," I giggle, putting the ashtray aside.

Eddie sits up, kissing me gently. "Then it's a good thing I only want you. Cause deep down, you're just as much a freak as I am." I hum happily, cupping his cheeks, "Hm, lucky you."

We kiss again, him flipping us around and making himself comfortable between my legs. We always were different, were freaks. Eddie loves me in a way nobody else can; everything we ever experienced, all our firsts, happened together.

The first time I rode my bicycle without training wheels. The first time his father became violent. The first time I had my period. The first time Eddie felt truly alone.

Our first time getting high. Our first tattoo. Our first kiss. Our first time getting really touchy while making out.

Our first time. The first time. In the same van and position, we are lying in right now.

Our friendship had to publicly end as our relationship evolved, but we were made for each other; there is no other way to describe it.

Eddie pulls away, laying down on his side, making us face each other while he strokes my cheek. "I love you," he whispers, and I love how it still lights sparks in me after all these years. "I love you too," I whisper back, and we smile stupidly at each other.

He stretches a little, pulling me into his chest. "I'm selling some stuff to one of your friends today." I look up. "Who?"

"Chrissy Cunningham." I look at him, surprised, and he chuckles, "I was surprised too, Sweetheart. But after that sale, I have enough money to buy a tux for prom."

"I thought he didn't want to wear one?" I ask with raised brown, rolling him onto his back and resting partially on his chest.

He nods, sneaking his arms around me again to make sure I'll stay this close. "I hate the thought," he deadpans. "But you want a magical prom night, and I'll be dammed if I don't provide that for you."

I kiss him, happily smiling, and he admits, "A tux makes it hopefully also easier for us when you tell your father about us."

No dating till I graduate. My father and mother had me when they were sixteen. Therefore, my father is extra careful about protecting my virtue. And I am even more careful in making him believe that my virtue is still a thing and not something I practically threw at my metalhead boyfriend years ago.

It will be a true blessing to no longer have to hide.

"He has known you since you were five and asked if we could play together at the park. Daddy knows how you normally look," I snicker, having Eddie shrug. "A tux still can't hurt."

He sighs loudly, "Shit, I can't wait to let everyone know that Eddie 'The Freak' Munson has the hottest, most brilliant girlfriend in the world. Chrissy Cunningham and Jason Carver look like fucking amateurs next to us."

Eddie points back and forth between us, "They might be the more socially accepted couple, but you and I? We are the ones staying together forever."

We kiss again, and as we part, he looks at his watch. "Baby, I have to go meet Chrissy so that I can buy you one of those silly flower bracelets." "A corsage," I correct him while we sit up and fix each other's clothes and hair.

He kisses me again, then opens the van's side door, jumping out first. When nobody's there to see us, he helps me out as well.

I'm still surprised about Chrissy buying drugs. She's so proper; I sometimes feel like a bad influence next to her, even when I just chew bubblegum in class. But on the other side...

"Hey, Eddie?" he looks at me with his soulful eyes. "Chrissy's kinds of weird lately, like anxious and jumpy... Please be nice to her. We don't know what she's going through."

He nods. "Sure, baby. You know I'm all bark and no bite unless you want me to," he jokes, riskily pulling me into another kiss. "I promise to be my best self."

I kiss his cheek, grabbing my backpack, "And I see you tonight behind the arcade?"

He grabs his lunchbox, opens it, and hands me a heart-shaped lollipop to eliminate the joint's taste. "It's a date. We can get fast food and spend the evening at lover's lake. I even made us a new mixtape." "Sounds perfect," I smile, and with one final kiss, we part ways.

After a few feet, we both turn around. I throw Eddie a kiss, and he pretends to have caught it, holding it to his heart.

I giggle, making my way home. I can't wait for us to graduate.

.

,

⚡︎✿{Eddie’s Masterlist}•{Requests/Feedback}•{Guidlines}✿⚡︎

Today we won, Joseph Quinn playing "Master of Puppets".

The people who love Eddie Munson were def Team Jess when it comes to Gilmore Girls. You look me in the eyes and tell me I’m wrong.

Stars - Eddie Munson.

Pairing : Eddie Munson x f!reader.

Genres : very very slight angst in the beginning but tons of fluff.

Warnings : none except some suggestive content.

A/N : take it as an apology for my angst fic sobs.

Synopsis : Eddie has been chasing you for months now, and when he offers you to stargaze with him during one summer night, you can only say yes.

Main masterlist.

wc : ~ 3,800

Tagging : @nkogneatho @sanoinc (I tagged u bc we talked about it but tell me if u don't wanna xx)

Rolling your eyes at his grin, you pushed him away, hiding your amusement from him.

"Oh come on, y/n, I know you missed me."

"Don't take your dreams for reality, Munson. What d'you want tonight?"

"A date. Just one, I swear it'll be enough to convince you, sweetheart," you snorted, taking a step back to leave his side, but Eddie's hand snaked around your arm, keeping you close to him.

"A glass of whisky, please."

"See? You can do it, big boy."

You went behind the counter and prepared his order in the bar, knowing damn well Eddie had his eyes on you all along.

You kept playing the annoyed waitress each time he came into your bar, but him and you knew it was a facade. You actually enjoyed his company, although you would never say it out loud.

You've been working here for a year, roughly, and Eddie was one of those regulars. He came into your bar four months ago, and since that evening, he made it clear that his goal was to take you on a date, something you continually refused to do.

Why? 

You didn't really know, because he was attractive, interesting, and extremely funny. Maybe it was because you knew he would chase you one way or another, and that despite your refusal, he would still be here.

Or maybe it was because you had already gotten attached and you were scared he would let go when you gave him what he wanted.

"Hey y/n, you okay here?" Your co-worker, Diana, put her hand on your shoulder, seeing how tight you were holding Eddie's drink, and only faking a smile, you nodded, leaving her side to join his.

"Here. You wanna pay now or- oh! Is that a new tattoo?" You pointed at the bats on his arm, and Eddie proudly showed it off.

"Yeah, it is. D'you like it?" You nodded, returning his smile. "It's cool, it kinda matches my vibes. But hey, y/n, you told me once you liked stars, yeah?"

"And why on earth are you asking that, Munson?" He rested his chin on his hand, grinning at your curious expression. A few seconds passed before Eddie pulled something from his jacket pocket, and narrowing your eyes, you noticed the small silver keys hanging from his finger. 

Tilting your head in confusion, you crossed your arms over your chest as Eddie wiggled his eyebrows at you.

"What if I told you that this baby opens Hawkins' observatory, huh?"

"You're joking." 

"I'm not, I wouldn't dare lie to you, y/n," his tone held a serious hint, but you shrugged it away, excitement coursing through your veins.

"Let me take you on a date there. Later on tonight, at 8 p.m. "

 He was so determined, and it flattered you very much. The way Eddie stayed all those weeks, trying to make you laugh, trying to make you smile, you couldn't ignore them, and despite the fear of abandonment, you decided to take the risk, for once.

"I'll be waiting for you, Munson. Don't be late." leaving him speechless, you turned around and went back to work, as if nothing happened.

Your heart was threatening to leave your chest; your whole body was on fire, but you faked indifference nonetheless. 

"That's funny, I don't remember seeing you wearing that skirt earlier?" You ignored Diana's comment, only focusing on the mascara you were applying to your eyelashes. But the girl nudged your waist with her elbow, a teasing expression on her face.

"Are you finally gonna see him? Bet you're gonna have so much fun together. He definitely looks like a kinky guy," she winked at you as you slapped her shoulder playfully.

"Shut up, Diana. Eddie is bringing me to the observatory, actually."

"Oh, so you're just gonna see the stars, huh?"

"Yes, miss I'm having sex every night."

"Ouch, you hurt my feelings, y/n," you chuckled at her comment, which tore a smile from her.

"No but seriously, he seems nice. Plus, he's been chasing you for months already, he's a good one,"

You put the mascara on the bench, turning around to face her. You took the time to look at her, biting the inside of your cheek before speaking.

"You sure…? I'm just- I don't know."

"It's gonna be fine, y/n. He's not the same as him, okay?" She took both of your hands in hers as you grimaced, your past relationship wounds still fresh.

"But what if-"

"Eddie isn't like this bastard, y/n. He's not gonna cheat on you. Hell, the guy is literally wrapped around your fingers! Have some self-confidence, he wants you; even a blind man could see it."

You stayed quiet as she comforted you, but the ringing of your phone broke the moment, and smiling warmly at you, Diana motioned to your phone with her chin.

"Go ahead, must be him," Checking the name on the screen, you felt your stomach churn, but you brought the device to your ear nonetheless. 

"Hey,"

"Hey, I'm here, in front of the bar. Are you ready?"

Looking around at your scattered belongings, you stood up quickly before tossing the stuff in your locker.

"In a minute, sorry!" His chuckle warmed you up, relaxing you.

"And here you were asking me not to be late earlier."

"I'm gonna be fast, don't miss me too much, Munson." He barked another laugh. "I'll be waiting for you, then." The call ended with his words.

"Don't make him wait any longer, y/n. Come on, I'll clean the bar, go!" Diana waved her hand in front of you, urging you to leave, and you listened, kissing her cheek before going upstairs and exiting the building by the back door.

Your eyes immediately found him leaning on his black Camaro, and you couldn't contain your smile anymore as Eddie whistled at you.

"Look at you. You look stunning." You snorted as the brunette pulled you to his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"Thank you, Eddie. You don't look too bad yourself," 

"Why, thank you. Ready to see the stars?"

"More than ready." 

The drive to the observatory was filled with both of your laughter, music, and jokes from Eddie's side. You discovered that he could play guitar, a skill he promised to show you another time.

And maybe Eddie didn't realise it, but with those few words he reassured you that there would be another time, and another, and another.

"Okay. You'll go first, because if you fall, I'll be able to catch you, yeah?" You were facing the ladder that connected the bottom of the building to the roof, and as you lifted your head up, you noticed how high it actually was. 

"Don't look at my ass though,"

"I wouldn't dare," you snorted playfully at him as Eddie brought you closer, a hand on your hip.

"But you have to kiss me first, or no stars for you."

"That's blackmailing, Munson, you know ?" He was looking at you expectantly, and you simply sighed, tiptoeing. You could feel his hold tightening around your body as you pressed your lips on his cheek, and you could even smell his cologne.

"Here."

"That- that wasn't what I meant by kiss!" You patted his chest playfully before pulling back, winking at him.

"You should have been more precise, Eddie," he let out an annoyed groan at your words but you turned around, starting to climb up the ladder. As you arrived all the way up, you took a look at your surroundings.

Eddie actually prepared everything beforehand, from a few pillows to lie on the roof to one big fluffy blanket, and it made you smile. Because he was just so considerate, it made you all warm inside. 

As you settled together and finally got to position yourself comfortably, he leaned over you, taking a strand of your hair in his hand.

"At first, I thought you were joking when you said yes. I was waiting for the moment you would turn around and laugh, but you didn't. And I'm so glad you didn't, y/n. Because I'm happy you're here with me tonight." 

"I'm happy too, Eddie. Very happy. " He smiled before humming, satisfied with your words. You stayed silent for a bit, only observing him - rather than the beautiful night sky.

"I also brought some cookies. You like cookies, right?" You snorted because Eddie looked so childish, a huge contrast with the tough act he was usually pulling around you.

"I absolutely love cookies."

"Great. Awesome even! Do you want them-"

"Eddie,"

"Yeah?" He stopped talking as you straightened up.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course, darling, always,"

"How much did you have to pay for," you asked, showing the place with your hands, “all of that?”

"I don't think you wanna know," you guessed it was a lot, then. You sighed before looking at the border of the roof, looking away from him, even if you could feel his gaze on you.

"You didn't have to. Wasting your money on that isn't worth it."

"Shut up, y/n. It's not a waste if it's for you. Plus, I'm the one in charge of that shit, yeah? So just enjoy the moment with me."

"No, but, you don't understand, Eddie." You licked your bottom lip in apprehension, parting them after. "I'm not worth it, really. I don't even know why you keep chasing me, I don't know what you see in me that got you that riled up, honestly. I'm just plain boring, and I'm just… me," you finished in a whisper, scared to look at him and see the disappointment in his eyes.

"Oh y/n, come on. Don't pull that shit now. The moment I saw you in that bar, God, you have no idea how mesmerised I was. You were so confident, smiling and energetic. You were quite literally shining, blinding me in the process. And even if I was sure you would turn me off, I still tried my luck, because I don't know, I told myself you were so much more worth it than the other girls I've seen before. Hey, look at me," he cupped your face with his hands, forcing you to focus on him. You could feel your cheeks heating up, but even if you wanted to hide, even if you wanted to escape, you kept listening, because you knew Eddie wouldn't let you go anyway.

"You're so much more than just you, y/n. If only you saw what I'm seeing, God, you would be in awe too. You're worth every second, every minute, and every damn hour of my day. You're so interesting, so outgoing, and just so, so amazing. I'm never bored, I'm never annoyed with you, because that's just how it is. And I know it sounds cliché, I know it sounds cheesy, but I want you. Bloody hell, I want you so badly that it hurts sometimes, because I feel like you will never want me." He smiled sadly at you before pulling back, freeing you from his touch, a touch you immediately missed, the cold air now biting your cheeks.

"Eddie hold o-"

"I don't know if you took pity on me, I don't know if you think I'm pathetic and if that's why you accepted tonight, but-"

"Eddie!" You shouted, effectively cutting him off. He was breathless, a sign he talked too fast and too much, while your chest heaved slightly with deep inspiration.

"I never thought of you that way, never. I just... look. My last relationship has been a fucking hell for me. He cheated on me, gaslighted me into thinking I was the one responsible for that because I didn't want to have sex with him. But right after I gave him what he wanted... he just, he just…" you bit your lip to prevent the sobs, but you could already feel the tears threatening to show. "He just left. He left me behind, saying that I wasn't useful anymore, because hey, what could be the use of a virgin girl if she isn't anymore, right? And I guess- I guess I'm scared. I'm scared of abandonment, scared that if I give you access to my heart, you'll end up leaving me just like he did. And I don't want that, I don't want to be used that way again. It's too painful, you know…?" Your eyes fell on your fingers, a lump in your throat. Silence settled between the two of you as you refused to look up, but you sensed Eddie shifting a bit before he brought his hand to your knee, startling you.

"Y/N, I want you, it's not a secret I try to hide. And I can assure you, I'm definitely not like this guy. If you trusted me enough to let go, you would realise it," he was extremely close to you, but you didn't wince, you didn't shy away. 

Lifting your head up and meeting his eyes, you examined his face, something you did only when Eddie wasn't looking. But tonight, he was looking at you.

"I'm just scared,"

He brought his hand to the side of your face, caressing your cheek as you closed your eyes and leaned into the touch.

"And I promise, there's nothing to be scared of. I won't give you up. I will keep you so close to me that you'll be mad because you won't be able to breathe." You giggled before sighing, your eyes fluttering open once again. 

They fell on his eyes, which had a reassuring sparkle in them, before going south. His lips seemed so inviting, so soft. And maybe Eddie and you were connected, because you both leaned into each other before his hand wrapped around your nape and his mouth connected with yours.

It was a slow and soft kiss at first, before morphing into a deep one. Eddie snaked his arm around your waist and brought you to his lap as your fingers tangled with his hair. His kisses were demanding, but you gladly granted him access when the tip of his tongue teased your bottom lip.

You whined in his mouth when he pressed himself even harder on you—a thing that seemed impossible at first—and Eddie smiled against your lips.

Pulling back to breathe, you started playing with the chain adorning his neck, his hands stroking your hips.

"You have no fucking idea how much I wanted to kiss you like that, baby. Goddammit, feel like it's a dream," he whispered into your neck, and you could feel his lips ghosting over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. 

"Eddie…"

"Keep saying my name like that and you won't sleep in your bed tonight, y/n." 

"God, shut up!" He barked a laugh before pinching your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Y/N, let me in. I swear to God, I'll make it right for you. Give me one chance, just one."

"You already know I'm gonna say yes, dummy." He smiled excitedly before pressing his lips on yours again, holding you so close to him that there wasn't any more space between your bodies.

You nibbled at his bottom lip with your teeth before tugging at it and letting it go, making Eddie grin.

"You're gonna get me all addicted to those lips, huh?" 

"That's the goal, Munson. Now, shall we finally watch the stars? Or do you have something else in mind?"

"No. Sounds good to me, you by my side, cookies and some warm blanket. Come here," you leaned into his chest, your back against his front as his legs surrounded you. 

You kept talking and teasing each other, your left hand intertwined with his as his right arm was around your chest, keeping you close to him.

You must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing you know, a shout woke you up, and it wasn't Eddie's. 

"Fuck, Y/N! Wake up! The security is here! We need to go!"

And well, let's just say that your first morning with Eddie Munson was spent running in the woods, trying to lose the agents. And as the brunette kept laughing and screaming, you could only try to breathe correctly, adrenaline coursing through your veins, a smile on your face.

And you could get used to it. You could get used to the storm that was Eddie Munson. You could even love the craziness, because with him, it was just easier. And well, apparently, your heart has clearly made its choice too. 

18 - Eddie Munson

Y/n is 18 and her dad, Hopper, can seem to accept it. So she seeks out the help of Eddie Munson.

* You can imagine Y/n being adopted or Jim having a daughter with another woman if you don’t look like Hopper.

“Munson!” Eddie heard his name being called as he sat at his normal spot in the woods, seeing Jim Hoppers daughter, y/n, making her way over. Eddie smirked to himself and stood from the table.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of Y/n Hopper?” He bowed dramatically. She gave his antics a scowl and crossed her arms.

“I need your help, Eddie.” She sighed. His eyes widened, the Sheriff’s daughter needed the freaks help?

Eddie smirked, standing tall and crossing his arms. “And what could I, Eddie ‘The Freak” Munson, possibly help Jim Hoppers daughter with?”

She sighed and leaned her head back, looking at the sky through the trees. “Y’know what? Forget it, I’ll just find someone else.”

As she went to walk away, Eddie quickly placed a hand on her shoulder, talking off as she glared at him.

He put his hands up defensively. “What do you need? I can do it.” The super senior watched her sigh and look at the ground.

“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.” She looked him in the eyes. Eddie thought for a moment, placing his hand over his mouth.

Y/n was an attractive girl, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss a few notes in class because he was looking at her.

“Ok, why me though?” He asked, sitting down and looking up at her.

“My dad can’t except the fact that I’m eighteen and can make my own decisions. If I bring home a guy that’s been caught selling drugs as many times as you have, he’d have a field day.”

It seemed like a good enough reason to Eddie, he did love to piss people off, extra points if they were cops. And even if it wasn’t real, he was still getting a chance with the queen of Hawkins.

“Alright, I’m in.” Eddie held his hand out, Y/n smiling and shaking.

“So daddy,” Y/n started as Jim, El and her sat at the table. “I met a boy, and I really like him, I think he might like me too.”

Jim grumbled, shoving more food in his mouth as you spoke. “I don’t want you dating anyone until I meet them.”

“Well, I’ll let you know everything goes and then maybe he can come over for dinner?” She gave her sweet, good girl smile before Hopper reluctantly agreed.

The next day Eddie had gotten a note in his locker.

“Meet me in the woods after school

- Y/n”

Eddie smiled to himself, folding the note and slipping it in his back pocket. He looked down the hall, seeing Y/n up against the lockers while talking to her friends.

“Finally, I almost left.” Y/n said as she saw Eddie make his way to the table, small metal lunchbox in hand.

He sent the box down on the table, slipping his jacket off and sitting down across from her. “Sorry, I had a deal, and most people don’t feel comfortable doing that around a sheriffs daughter.”

Y/n sucked her teeth and looked down at the table for a moment. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” She said as she played with her fingers. “You need to come over and have dinner with my family, on Friday.”

Friday could not come soon enough, Jim had made dinner for the four of you while El had set the table. Now the only thing to do was wait for you and this mystery boy to arrive.

Both of their eyes widened when they heard loud metal music. Jim’s face turned full of shock as he saw the familiar van in his driveway, him and his officers searching it many times before.

The girl smiled to Eddie as she caught a glimpse of her fathers face. The two had made themselves look as believable as possible, Eddie slipping one of his rings and his guitar pick necklace onto her.

The two walked up to the cabin, Eddie only landing one knock before Jim had opened the door. Y/n smiled up at her father, hugging Eddie’s arm.

“Daddy, this is the boy I told you about, Eddie Mu-“

“Munson. I’m aware.” Jim said, quickly cutting his daughter off as he stared down at the boy.

Eddie smiled politely as he held his hand out to the sheriff. “Is great to see you, Hopper.” The girls father stared down at his hand before moving out of the way to let the two in.

Jim watched as Y/n walked the boy into the living room, where El sat watching TV. “El, this is Eddie, the boy I told you about about the other day.”

Eleven watched as her sister slipped her hand into the boys. “Hello,” she looked up at him, Eddie smiling and greeting her as well.

“Alright, let’s eat.” Jim yelled from the kitchen, Eleven got up quickly, leaving her sister and the boy in the living room.

Y/n smiled at up at Eddie, who was trying his best to hold back a laugh before they made their way to the kitchen.

“So Munson.” Jim said, staring the boy dead in the eye. “What’ve you been up to since the last time I’ve seen you? Back to the usual?”

“Daddy-“

Eddie snickered for a moment before swallowing his food. “No sir, I put all that behind me. After last time I decided to clean up my act.”

Jim stared at him questionably, leaning back in his seat to intimidate him. Eddie would be lying if he said he wasn’t though, the two grams of weed in his glovebox staying in the back of his mind.

Dinner ended soon enough, Eddie feeling a bit more relieved as it was almost time to go. “Well Munson, it’s getting late, and I wouldn’t want your uncle to get too worried.”

Eddie smiled politely and nodded his head. “Of course. Thank you for dinner, it was amazing.”

“I’ll walk you out.” As the two slipped out the door, Eddie shoved his hand in the girls back pocket. “The plan worked great. Thank you.”

Y/n said as they approached the van. “Of course, who could pass up free diner?” He laughed. “I do know how you can repay me, though.”

The girl raised her eyebrows as Eddie leaned against his van. “Let me take you out tomorrow, for real.”

Y/n smiled at him, leaning up to place a small kiss on his cheek. “It’s a date.” She said, making her way back to the cabin.

“Hopper?” Eleven looked away from the window for a moment, turning to her father who was sitting in his recliner.

“Yeah, El?” He asked, not looking away from the TV.

The younger girl looked back to the window. “Why is his hand in her pocket?” She asked, tilting her head as she watched her sister.

Hopper quickly made his way to the window, his hands gripping the couch and his knuckles turning white. “I’m going to kill that boy.”

If this gets 100 likes I swear on everything I will make a Billy version

never related to a tumblr post more than this one

i have a ‘crush’ on all of these guys… I’m starting to see a pattern here

life’s too short to be embarrassed you read x reader fan fiction. live ur life and date as many imaginary boys as u want

In the aftermath of Roe v. Wade being overturned, here’s some resources:

1. AbortionFinder.org

2. Planned Parenthood’s Find a Health Center

3. ABC News’ state-by-state legality list

4. Politico’s state-by-state legality list

Abortion-friendly (one asterisk indicates potential change and two asterisks indicate some limitations) U.S. states include:

Alaska

Arizona*

California

Colorado

Connecticut

Delaware

D.C.

Florida**

Georgia*

Hawaii

Illinois

Indiana**

Iowa**

Kansas**

Maine

Maryland

Massachusetts

Michigan*

Minnesota

Montana

Nebraska**

Nevada**

New Jersey

New Hampshire**

New Mexico

New York**

North Carolina*

Ohio*

Oregon

Pennsylvania**

Rhode Island

South Carolina*

Vermont

Virginia**

Washington

5. Finally, an important reminder: Research Shows Access to Legal Abortion Improves Women’s Lives

18 (Eddie Munson)

Summary: You use Eddie to piss off your parents.

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of weed, swearing, SFW, religious parents, not proofread bc I'm gonna be late for work.

Inspired by the song 18 by Anarbor

:)

You'd grown up a goody two-shoes--church every Sunday, straight A's, pleated skirts. You were a clean, cookie cutter good girl.

Until your parents decided it was time to raid your room. They'd found the secret stash on the top shelf of your closet. This shoebox carried the entirety of your real personality. The small baggie of weed you'd gotten from Eddie Munson and your treasured collection of Black Sabbath tapes were confiscated. Then you were sentenced to being grounded for the foreseeable future, only being allowed to go to school and tutor classmates on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Your main tutee was Eddie Munson, two times held back, he was determined to graduate this year along with you. You weren't good friends with Eddie by any means, you'd tutored him for the last few weeks and exchanged pleasantries in the halls (meaning he would bow at you dramatically and you would smile uncomfortably).

At least you weren't one of the kids who judged him and his friends endlessly. You didn't think of the Hellfire Club as freaks or nerds, if anything, you envied them. They were free to express themselves completely.

Your first tutoring session with Eddie had started awkward but quickly became comfortable. You guys chatted for a little while about music, Eddie was surprised that your tastes didn't differ much. He gave you a couple of his tapes to borrow and even slid you a little bit of weed for free (anything for a rebel cause).

He was the first and only person you told about your parents busting you. It's not like you had any friends, unless you're counting your church friends and they would stand right behind your parents on the issue.

Eddie was positively outraged about your parents "oppressing your spirit". His anger managed to rile you up, dragging you out of the spell of sadness you'd been swimming in for the past few days.

"That's bullshit, Y/N," he shouted. You sat on the desk, a copy of the pre-calculus textbook sprawled out beside you. He stood from his seat, pacing the empty classroom.

"I know. I would ask for some weed but I think my parents might actually be considering a drug sniffing dog," you groaned, laying back onto the table. You felt your plaid skirt rise a bit on your thighs, but you let it be. You knew Eddie would notice (he wasn't very inconspicuous), and you honestly didn't mind the attention.

"Fuck your parents! How much angrier can they get?" He questioned, throwing hiss hands in the air.

"I guarantee they can get angrier. That's something I would love to see. Maybe I should get a tattoo, or pierce my eyebrow, or I could--"

"Bring home an older, held back, long haired, tattooed, good ol' fashioned freak as your boyfriend," he pointed at you quirking a brow.

Eddie had very clearly had a crush on you. He would shamelessly flirt, constantly calling you pet names and asking for extra tutoring time accompanied by a sly wink. You figured he was pretty much joking. You can flirt without liking someone. Besides, you weren't innocent. You would let your eyes linger or let your hand rest on his arm for longer than necessary. It was fun and exciting, he was probably the only person in this school that knew your personality went deeper than seemingly perfect facade you displayed.

You considered Eddie's offer for a moment. It felt awful to use him, but he was offering. Besides, you could only imagine the shock on your parents' faces when you arrive in their driveway without your bike, but in a van driven by Eddie Munson blaring Ozzy Osbourne's latest. With that picture circling the forefront of your mind, you decided.

"You might be a genius, Munson. I could kiss you," you laughed.

"You probably should," he smirked, a shit-eating grin taking over his face.

***

"This next left turn is my street," you directed Eddie from the passenger seat. Your Mary Janes were propped up on the dash, Hand of Doom blaring through the open windows. You hair was flying out of your ribbon due to Eddie driving 50 in a residential.

"Sure thing, Princess," he hollered, swinging the wheel left.

You watched as several of your neighbors peeked through their curtains or stepped onto their porches to find the cause of the ruckus, your parents included. They stormed out of the front door upon realizing it was their perfect daughter perched in the van beside the town delinquent.

Eddie pulled right into the driveway, not bothering to lower the volume. You waited in the seat as Eddie hopped out and jogged around to open your door. He grabbed your hand to help you out of the seat.

"They look so pissed," he whispered, pulling you in by the waist. Against his chest, you wrapped your arms around his neck, squealing as he lifted you into the air.

"A+ for the acting, Rebel," you hummed in his ear.

He set you down and pulled back slowly. You grinned at him as he backed you against the van.

"I do live to put on a show," he stroked your arm that remained rested on his shoulder.

"Wanna kick it up?" You asked, leaning into him. You watched his cheeks tinge pink as you went in for the kill, or kiss. His hands immediately found your hips, and yours tangled into his hair.

Eddie met the energy you gave off, the kiss completely skipping any semblance of innocence. Your tongues battled as you guys amped it up for performance purposes, of course. Even you had to admit, it was a bit much but you couldn't bring yourself to care-- too lost in Eddie.

Finally the two of you pulled away, him giving you another peck before pulling away totally. You winked at him before started the walk toward your fuming parents, who stood on the porch in disbelief.

"Bye, Princess!" Eddie shouted, hopping back into his van.

"Bye, Babe!" You threw the last punch as he pulled down the street, going faster than he did on the way in.

"What in God's name are you doing with your life?" Your dad shouted.

"Is this the boy who gave you drugs?" Your mother was nearly crying.

You didn't answered, just rolled your eyes as you entered the house. Your parents followed you in, throwing questions after question at you.

***

So if you wanna piss off your parents

Date me to scare them.

Show them you're all grown up.

If long hair and tattoos are what attract you,

Baby then you're in luck.

𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐘𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 || 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

summary: in which you forget your wallet and offer eddie a quid pro quo. oh, look at you using big words! [eddie munson x bimbo!reader]

cw: smut || 18+ only [ft. oral sex (m receiver), reader is dumb (obviously, so if that bothers you.. goodbye!]

a/n: i rewrote this entire thing 4 times 😃 i still don’t really like how some parts turned out but let’s pretend it’s because i’ve stared at it for hours on end and not bc it’s actually bad <3

“That’d be 20,” Eddie says, sliding the bag of weed towards you over the wooden table.

You open your bag to look for your wallet only to not find it in its usual spot. You look inside the bigger compartment, ruffling through makeup bags, receipts and strawberry lollipops but come back empty handed. You look back at Eddie, offering him an anxious smile, “Just a sec.”

He nods and rests his forearms on the table, toying with the wristband of his watch while he watches you open all three of your makeup bags, the glass bottles and compact powders clinking against each other. 

His eyebrows raise at your mumbled curse. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. S’just…” you giggle nervously, twirling a strand of hair. “I forgot my wallet. Silly me.”

Eddie grimaces in pity. “Well that’s unfortunate, sweetheart, but you know what they say…” he takes back the plastic bag and dumps it into his toolbox, closing the lid sharply. He smiles sarcastically, “Flattery doesn’t pay the bills.”

Your shoulders drop as he stands up, but before he can put his leather jacket back on your face lights up, resembling a cartoon having an eureka moment. Or so Eddie thinks. “Wait! I could pay you some other way, if you want!”

“Cash only, you know the rules.” Your twinkling laughter lets him know he said something stupid, which coming from you should probably bruise his ego a little. “What?”

“That’s not what I meant, silly,” you chuckle, adjusting your position on the bench and leaning forward conspiratorially, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. Eddie gulps as your eyes drag down his body to his groin then back up to his face. “I meant, I could do you a little favour.”

“A favour,” he repeats blankly. 

“Yeah, like a little– ugh, what’s the word?” You muse, your front teeth trapping your lower lip. Eddie has to admit that the way your brows furrow in concentration is adorable. “Oh, yeah, a little quid pro quo! I suck your cock, you give me the weed for free,” you sing-song, smiling at him. 

Eddie is many things. A freak, a nerd, an academic failure, a drug dealer. He is not dumb, though, even though the vast majority of Hawkins High would like to defer. So it’d be very dumb of him to turn down a blowjob offer from one of the prettiest girls in Hawkins. 

He’s seen you around town before, walking around with your short skirts and dresses and tight shirts, heeled mary janes that probably cost more than anything inside his trailer clicking against the pavement. You were one of the few people in Hawkins that didn’t cast him aside, in fact, you had always been kind to him whenever he got the courage to talk to you. 

Whether it was because you were simply too nice or because the fact that he was Eddie “the Freak” Munson just flew over your pretty little ditzy head, he’d never know. 

So sue him if he had a teeny tiny crush on the local airhead.

Then he remembers the hunk who usually had an arm wrapped around your waist. The meathead that would bump into his shoulder if they crossed paths. The jackass that would make your shoulders drop and a sad look cloud your face when he mocked you as you played around with the figurines on display in the comic shop he frequented. 

His mood sours.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” 

“Yeah, but he won’t mind. Half the weed is for him anyways.” You shrug, clearly unbothered. “Besides, it’s not like he hasn’t been sneaking around with like, half of his girl friends behind my back. At least I’m doing this as a favour to him.” 

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Shit, no way.” 

“Yeah, he must think I’m stupid or something. I mean, I’ve already found three different fake nails in his car. Do I look like the type of girl to wear black nail polish?” You tilt your head to the side, your shiny purple nails clicking on the table. Eddie shakes his head with a snort. “Exactly! So, are we gonna do this or not? I have a hair dresser’s appointment in like an hour.”

Eddie shifts in place, kicking some leaves up in the air. As much as this is a dream come true, he doesn’t wanna take advantage of your predicament. Hoping you don’t take it back, he asks, “You sure this is cool?” 

“Yeah, it’ll be fun!”

He wonders if your idea of fun is usually this fucked up but finds himself nodding in approval. “Yeah, sure. Fuck it.”

You clap your hands in excitement and stand up, your skirt flaring as you twirl around to walk to the opposite side of the bench. You stand in front of him, fingers linked together as you bounce on the balls of your feet. “So, like, do you wanna stand or sit down?”

Eddie stares at your glossy mouth as you talk, down to your low cut top that exposes the swells of your chest, and lower to your short skirt that will most likely rise up if the barest hint of a breeze passes you by. 

“I, uh, I think I’ll sit,” he says, lowering himself to the bench. He gulps when he’s face to face with your boobs, your nipples straining against your shirt.

Yeah, he thinks as his cock stirs awake, sitting down was the smartest choice. 

“Wait,” he grabs his jacket and dumps it in front of him. “For– for your knees. So the leaves don’t hurt you,” he explains when he sees the confused look on your face. 

Your heart swells inside your chest. You have to clutch it to make sure it doesn’t burst from the seams. “That’s so sweet!” you cry and give him a quick peck on the cheek before kneeling between his legs. 

You shuffle until you’re in a comfortable position, caressing his thighs gently when you’re done. “It’s super comfy, Eddie. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he exhales, watching in anticipation as you unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans. He helps you out by raising his hips, pulling down his boxers himself just enough to get his cock out. 

Your mouth falls open. “Oh, wow.”

His cock isn’t even fully hard yet but it’s still an impressive sight, barely thicker than it’s longer and decorated with two cute veins on either side that lead to the pink tip. Your favourite colour. 

You reach forward to touch him but he shifts back awkwardly, shoulders drawn up. “Sorry about the mess,” he says, more pink coating his cheeks. If he keeps this up you’re going to fall in love. “I didn’t think I'd be getting blowed during a deal so, uh, y’know… housekeeping missed a week.”

He’s embarrassed, you realise, catching up to the misunderstanding. About his… pubic hair? You laugh internally, how dumb is this boy?

“I don’t care about that, dummy,” you keep stroking his inner thigh, now touching his skin. He’s so warm. 

Your honesty is so clear in your eyes that it helps him relax. Your hand hovers above his mound and only touches him when he nods shakily, petting it softly. Your eyes light up with happiness and god, Eddie loves that shine on you. “I think it’s super hot, actually. Kinda wish my boyfriend kept it like this.”

Eddie sighs as you litter warm kisses around the base. His dick twitches when your nose bumps against it. “He doesn’t?”

He doesn’t know why he asks, but he’s curious. So very curious to know what you see in that asshole, what it is exactly that Eddie’s missing. And maybe, just maybe, he feels a burst of proudness when you shake your head with a sad pout. 

Eddie: 1

Asshole boyfriend: 0

Your kisses move upwards, your lips pressing sweetly all around his cock and your tongue tracing the veins. Eddie is practically vibrating with anticipation, his hands hovering on either side of your head like he doesn’t know if he can touch you. 

“You can touch me, Eddie,” you mumble against his length, the vibrations sending a shiver down Eddie’s spine. “You can do whatever you want. Here–” 

He swallows down the whine of despair that threatens to come out of his throat when you pull away, has to bite his lip to stay quiet when you take off your top and your tits fall out.

You take his hands and press them to your chest. “Feel them,” you guide his fingers so he can squeeze them, letting out a breathy moan in response. Encouraged, Eddie does it again, this time by himself, and sneaks out of your hold to twist your nipples. “S-soft, aren’t they?”

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he corrects. 

You swallow harshly, the praise and Eddie’s eyes glued to your boobs creating a gentle warmth inside you. “I, uh, thought you might’ve wanted something pretty to look at. Trees can get a little boring. A-and you can use them as stress balls, too! Just anything y’want, really…” You shake your scattered head and grip him once more, Eddie cursing from your sudden movement. “I’m gonna suck you now, ‘kay?”

“Whenever you want, sweetheart.”

Something in the tone of his voice makes your thighs clench together. 

You purse your lips and dribble some spit onto the tip, spreading the rivulettes around with firm strokes. Eddie’s breathing hardens, and when you finally wrap the soft cushions of your mouth around the head and suckle on it like the lollipops you’re always munching on, it’s like he’s stopped breathing all together. 

“Shit,” he curses, the feel of your wet tongue swirling around turning his brain into mush. He can’t think straight, not when he looks down and sees you slobbering all over him, slurping loudly as your head bobs up and down enthusiastically.  

“Holy fuck, that feels so good.” You’re fighting back your gag reflex, he can feel it– your throat contracting around him as you try your best to fight off the urge to throw up, desperate to keep him snug inside your mouth. The spasms cause his head to fall back, the grip on your tits tightening until you’re whimpering. 

You’re a sputtering mess when you pull away, spit dripping down your chin and onto your chest, which is panting with the effort to relieve your burning lungs. You keep stroking him, though, your fist gliding with ease thanks to all the drool you left on him. 

“Look what you did to me,” Eddie says, eyes glued to the tip that oozes precum like a leaky faucet. You follow one of the pearly white drops on its path down to his balls and, never having been a wasteful person, lick it up. 

Eddie groans the feeling of your soft tongue kitten licking his heavy balls. “Do that again,” he begs, hands leaving your chest to keep you down where you are, pressing you against his base. You’re overwhelmed with all things Eddie: his scent, his taste, the sounds he makes as you plop both sacks into your mouth and suck them. 

Eddie slumps back against the table, the sharp edge digging itself into his back but he doesn’t care. He’s spewing curses and the sweetest sounds you have ever heard. “Oh god, you feel how full they are? How full of cum they are for you? Never got this fucking needy for anyone, I swear to fucking Ozzy or- shit, I don’t know. Feels like I’m gonna explode.” 

Nothing makes you wetter than having a cock in your mouth and the evidence is obvious in your panties. You pull them aside and play with your clit as you roll Eddie’s balls in your mouth, pressing two fingers into your dripping hole in search of relief. Knowing that your digits were sticky with his precum and your spit rips a cute little mewl from your chest, and you press your face further into his groin. 

You sigh in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut while you pump your fingers. With a kiss to each of his balls, you lave your tongue on the underside of Eddie’s cock, flicking the slit to embed his taste in your mouth.

“Oh shit, are you touching yourself?” His voice gets higher from the surprise and the arousal, something rabid growing in his stomach. He combs back your hair so he can see your eyes. “That’s– that’s so hot. You have no idea how fucking hot it is.”

He can’t look away from you. Wants to burn the image of your mouth stuffed full and your teary eyes and your lips stretched wide as you try to give him your best smile. Your nipples are grazing the rough fabric of his jeans, your tits bouncing up and down as you drool all over him.

He doesn’t think he can last much longer, not when you touch him so good and sound so pretty even and he knows he’s the reason you’re so desperately fucking your own fingers. It’s then that the wet heat of your mouth envelops him again.

All hell breaks loose. 

He thinks he’s burning up, he has to be. His skin is hot and sweaty, his mind delirious and he can’t keep himself from spewing the first thoughts that come to mind. “I bet that little pussy is beautiful. Sweet too. It’s– It’s gotta be, with how fucking pretty you are. How sweet you always are to me. Always so nice to me, laughing at my awful jokes. Even if your idiotic boyfriend is around. Goddamit,” he clutches the bench beneath him, eyes screwed shut. “I’m gonna cum, sweetheart. Where- Where do you want it? In that tight throat, that pretty face? Anywhere, anywhere you want.”

You pull away with a lewd popping sound, Eddie’s eyes rolling back. “My face, please. Want you to make me pretty,” you say breathlessly. 

Your inner walls flutter at the sight of Eddie losing himself in his orgasm. He’s always been pretty but now, with his lips raw bitten, his hair a wild mess from running his hand through it, his face flushed and his shirt sticking to his sweaty chest? He’s beautiful, gorgeous, every synonym in the dictionary. 

You await with an open mouth and the second the first spurts of his cum hit your cheek, you’re cumming yourself, movements stuttering and thighs closing in on your wrist. Some of the spurts enter your mouth directly and you gulp them down without hesitation. Others drip down your forehead and cheekbones before they touch your parted lips, your tongue darting out to collect them. 

“Come here.” He grabs you by the back of your neck and leans forward to kiss, not even caring that you’re covered in him. His nose presses against your cheek as he swallows down your whiny moans, tasting himself on your tongue. 

He’ll blame the mushyness on his post-orgasmic bliss, not worried about anything when you’re switching his deep kisses for sweet little pecks that could make his knees buckle. 

“Oh!” you exclaim when you notice the clump of white on the tip of Eddie’s nose. You swipe it off with your thumb and lick it up, not even worrying about your own state. “So, uh, I read that cum is like this super amazing facial… maybe we could do it again sometime?”

Oh, bless your silly little heart.

The Confrontation

(Eddie Munson x BFF!Reader)

Summary: How long had you and Eddie Munson known one another? Since first grade? Since the dawn of time? Maybe it didn’t matter. What did matter was that you knew everything about him, and he knew everything about you. Best friends tended to operate that way: an unbreakable alliance of camaraderie. 

Pity you’re putting your fucking foot through it by falling in love with him.

Word Count: 3.3K

Content: Mutual pining, confessions of love, emotional resolution, tooth-rotting fluff, Dustin being a shenanigan-instigator

Eddie Munson was your best friend in the whole entire world.

“Joined at the goddamn hip”, your parents used to complain years ago, when you were always tumbling around in the mud, or raiding the pantry, or watching cartoons and generally being nuisances together. Through elementary, middle school, high school.

Weirdos had to stick together, right?

Keep reading

headcanon; Eddie is definitely the type of boyfriend who would just pick you up and toss you over his shoulder and carry you around for no reason at all except to hear you shriek and laugh and to low-key keep his hand on your ass

Everything for my lady

summary: when eddie finds you at the library, he makes you an offer that turn into something else when you reach his house

word count: 3,4k+

warnings: none unless you count both you and eddie being huge ass virgins

author's note: its my first fanfic! at least in this blog, bc i used to write queen fanfic too T.T anyways, i hope you guys enjoy it and that you can forgive my grammar mistakes since english isn't my first language

Eddie couldn't stop looking at you.

He wanted to feel how soft your skin was, how your hair would feel under his hands caressing, and most important of all: how your body would react against his.

Don't get him wrong, he wasn't a creep, even though most girls would call him that because of his style, he tried to be respectful towards woman, never daring to target a girl with his silly jokes about D&D or social hierarchy. But whenever he thought about you, he felt like one. It felt wrong to know about you, and not even know what your voice sounded like.

He knew you liked to read a lot, always being seen with a book hold tightly in your arms. He knew you liked wearing skirts, seeing how much you were seen with them at school. He also knew you never ate at the cafeteria, taking your lunch somewhere else to eat. But if someone were to ask how your voice felt going through his ears and straight to his heart, he would never be able to answer, because your voice was never directed to him, or someone else in this case. You were quiet, shy, avoiding any eye contact when walking down the hallways.

Eddie had lost the feeling of fear of the judgmental looks long ago, but he knew how nervous you got when you had to get out of the cafeteria with your lunch tray, so he always made sure to make a scene, to attract all eyes towards him, so you could leave more calmly and not having people wonder where the silent girl would go.

He just wouldn't imagine that one day, the only thing he wanted to keep hidden, would be the same one that would make you finally grace him with your sweet voice.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶

"Hey there Melissa, looking good as always, aren't we?"

Eddie said, pointing two finger guns towards the old librarian, who only pointed to the 'Keep your voice down' sign and kept doing her work. Kind as always, aren't we? he thought to himself.

Turning around one of the library corners and holding his papers and pens, Eddie eyes went looking table from table, trying to search one that was far away and unoccupied. Only that he stopped dead on his tracks at the sight of you, sitting alone on one of the tables near the window, with the sun reaching down on you and making you glow on his vision.

It took him an big amount of prep talk – thirty seconds of him saying to himself that he could do this, that it was as easy as traumatize children that thought that they finally killed his villain on a campaign only for him to return with nothing but a missing eye – to get close to your table. He wondered if this would annoy you, since there was a big amount of empty tables around yourself, since no one visited the library after classes ended.

Deciding to shut off his thoughts before they made him run away in anxiety, Eddie approached you and tried to think about ways to talk to you on his most calm demeanor, not wanting to make you feel like a cornered animal caught by their predator.

Sensing eyes on you, you looked upwards to find a guy staring at you with big puppy eyes. Your brows furrowed, and you noticed that this guy was in the same class as you were, and it was also the metalhead that repeated senior year for two years in a row. Was that really Eddie Munson in a library?

As if he was finally getting out of a trance, Eddie finally saw that you had noticed his presence before he was able to think of something to say.

"Ah, hey! I didn't notice you were starin- I mean, I was staring. Like, you weren't staring, I was totally staring, unless you think this is creepy because then I was totally NOT staring"

Facepalming himself mentally, Eddie decided that maybe the girls didn't find him creepy because of his style, but because he couldn't control his mouth to shut up when it was necessary. That seemed like a more reasonable theory after what just happened.

With a little smile that made Eddie's heart flutter inside his chest, you gave him a little wave. He decided that the first smile you gave him was his best memory from now on.

"So, can I sit here?" You only gave him a fast nod, that did not quite match the rate his heart was beating right now.

"Y/N, right?" He scolded himself at how creepy he sounded knowing your name out of nowhere "I mean, I guess?"

"Yes, I'm Y/N. You must be Eddie, right?"

In that moment, Eddie felt that he was on Cloud 9. No weed could ever bring him the peace that your voice gave him – which when he thought back, was a weird thing to compare with a pretty girl –. He finally had his dream of hearing your voice, which was there for almost two years, come true. Right now, he decided he could never let you shut up near his presence, either by hearing you laughing or talking, he needed to have your voice on his life from now on.

"Y-yeah, totally me. Unless you think I'm a freak. Because then that's not me"

You put your book down, with the pages still open, and Eddie took this as a sign that he should do his best to distract you from going back to the pages that were marked.

"I don't think you are a freak"

"Then I'm Eddie, that's me" He gave you a smile, which you reciprocated. Was he having a heart attack? A stroke? Did he had butterflies for lunch? Or was this the feeling he would have everytime you smiled near him? And oh God, he really had to stop with the weird comparisons.

After a quick moment of silence, he heard your voice again, and hope filled his body thinking that maybe, you didn't wanted your little chat with him to end so abruptly.

"I didn't think you were one for libraries, Munson"

"You can call me Eddie" He replied, a little too quick "I like to come here to make some new stories for my campaigns"

"Campaigns?"

As he saw your confused face, with brows slightly frowned, he remembered that not everyone was aware of his D&D world.

"As in Dungeons and Dragons campaign?" Noticing that he wasn't ringing any bells, Eddie decided to take his chance to bring his chair closer to your side, ready to explain every detail of his life-long hobbie

Seeing him so ready to explain something that perked his interests made your cheeks feel warm, specially since his attention was all focused on you. Truth to be told, you had noticed the boy that got up on the cafeterias tables every time you were about to leave, and you would linger a few moments to hear more about his bickering with other social groups. His loud voice would reverberate each time through the walls, and his dramatic actions would always make you laugh a little once you were on the corridors.

Turning your attention back on Eddie, you laid your head on your hands, making sure you could hear all the boy was about to say

"So..." This time, you could notice Eddie was slightly more relaxed, since this seemed to be a subject he could talk about for hours, probably due to being so habituated to the game and its terms. "You know what D&D is, right?"

For that, you shook your head yes, since you had actually heard some of the news channel talking about the new wave of players that the game was attracting

"A campaign is basically a set of adventures that are intertwined during the game." Eddie tried to explain to you in the simplest way, not wanting to get your head confused by using some terms that only players would know

"Would I, maybe, be able to get a cute maiden like you to join my adventures this time?" He said, offering his hand towards you. You tried to ignore the goosebumps on your skin at the mention of him finding you cute, instead taking no time in accepting his hand, which felt oddly warm agains yours.

"It would be a honor"

"And for me it would be a honor if you two would finally get away from here. We are closing in ten." You heard the librarian voice reaching you, which made you smile fade immediately.

"Hey, it's not fair, you only want to go watch your soap ope-" Eddie was interrupted by a reprehensible look, which made him immediately shut up.

Deciding that he couldn't lose this chance – and feeling that if he did, he would never gather the courage to talk to you again after being this close –, Eddie decided to throw all away and focus on enjoying the opportunity

"Should we proceed with our affairs on my home?" Eddie says, with a very theatrical voice, trying to make you give him one more smile before the rejection he was sure was coming his way

"I..." you couldn't speak, thinking about what people would think when seeing the goody two-shoes getting on the 'freak' van.

As did Eddie moments ago, you decided to shut off your thoughs and throw your caution out of the windows. For just this once, you felt happy being on someone's side, and you didn't want this to end so soon because of an old lady that couldn't keep the library open for more thirty minutes

"I would love to proceed with our affairs in your home, sir Eddie" you answered, in his same theatrical manners, which earned you a laugh from the boy.

You and Eddie got out of the library side by side, remaining in silent after the little scene you made for the librarian. But as soon as you were out of the lady's ear range, you looked at each other and started laughing.

"She can't see two teenagers getting on well, she hates happines, I'm so sure of this" Eddie kept saying, making your laugh get louder and louder each time. There was something about the way he said that so outraged that you found so funny. His facial expressions were very remarkable, and he couldn't hide his disappointment on the old lady that he treated so well, only to end up betrayed by her.

"She must think we are going to your home to do something..." You pause, approaching his van

"To fuck?"

"Eddie! That's so..."

"Rude, right? I'm sorry, my lady, I will keep my composure in front of you from now on"

You noticed that his smile couldn't hide the fact that he was not sorry at all.

A cold drizzle started to fall, making you both run towards Eddie's car. Still holding hands, which neither of you took notice

Hopping on the passenger seat, you searched for a belt to put around you, noticing that his van was going against everything you thought a man's car would be. He certainly wasn't one of those weirds that treated his car like a person and wouldn't let anyone even eat inside, judging by the amount of dirty there was on the floor.

"I gotta warn you, my place isn't exactly the best thing in Hawkins. Is just a trailer where I live with my uncle-" You interrupted him

"I can't believe I'm not going to a palace" You tried making a joke, which made Eddie turn to you and give him a smile and shake his head

"I know right? I'm such an orc"

That set the atmosphere of the rest of the ride, where he kept informing you about the basics of D&D, always looking towards you to make sure he wouldn't miss any expression you could make.

When finally arriving to his place, he was the first to get out of the car, and before you could even reach towards the door, it was opening with an Eddie on the other side, gesturing for you to get down

"Trying to reedem myself since I don't have fortunes waiting for my lady inside our palace" You felt butterflies on your stomach at the mention of being his. Surprisingly enough, the thought wasn't scaring you.

"It might be working, Eddie" You said, hopping down his van and walking towards his trailer door. You didn't want him to see how your face had responded to him calling you 'his lady'

"As I was saying, I think you should choose your race as an half-elf, because you-" He stopped talking to fumble with his keys and open the door for you "-would have the beauty you have as a human already, plus the grace that both you and elfs share, what you think?" He finished, opening the door for you to get inside

"I... this would be great!"

Ignoring the way your heart skipped a beat because of his words, you decided to get inside his trailer already, not wanting to spend any more time outside in the cold drizzle that was slowing becoming a rain  in Hawkins. Another reason to get inside quickly, was for Eddie to not see the effects his compliments had on you.

"So, ready for the show?"

With open arms, Eddie guided you to his couch, and went quickly to his room to grab some other essential stuff, in his words, to the best thing you would discover in your life. It didn't take him too long to appear with dices, a handbook, and some printed sheets.

Sitting down on your side, he started to explain the way everything worked, and it was mostly easy for you to pay attention to everything. That was, until he decided to lay more relaxed on the couch, and opening his legs, Eddie put his arms behind his head. The action was enough to make your breath get caught in your throat. You could only imagine what sitting on his lap would feel like

Trying to get those thoughts away, with the excuse that this was not usually yourself, you decided to go back to paying attention to his words. The task proved to be difficult when everything you could see was the way his lips moved, with the sound that came out of them being silenced by your head that could only think about how warm he must be. It also didn't help how cold it was getting now that the night was approaching, and how sleepy you were feeling after a more agitated day with Eddie talking the whole time

"Are you paying attention? You have this glassy eyes expression" Eddie asked, coming closer to you and putting his hands on your knees to support himself. He was so excited to talk to you that he forgot how you caught some rain on yourself. It wasn't enough to soak you down, but definitely made your hair a little wet and gave a few wet spots in your clothes

Feeling how hot his hands are didn't helped your case, specially since you were wearing a skirt, which made you feel each part of his hands on you. Looking down at where you two were touching, you focused on how many rings he was wearing, almost all of them with a shape of some form

Thinking that maybe he did it wrong touching you, Eddie went to get his hands away from your skin, already missing the contact, when you put your hands above his and surprised both him and yourself

"Your hands are very warm" You said, holding one of his hands and bringing towards your face. He couldn't control himself, and his fingers started to trace patterns on your cheek, finally feeling how soft your skin truly felt to him.

"Are you feeling cold?" Eddie asked, finally taking notice that your skirt wasn't doing a great job of protecting you of the rain you caught when walking with him "Here, let me take you to my bedroom and there you can cover up and rest a little, how does that sound?"

Eddie thought that this was a bold step, that you would quickly push him off and say what a pervert he was – God knew he had his best intentions at heart, though – and storm off, but you only got up and nodded slowly.

After sitting for so long, only hearing Eddie talk, even if it was the most cool thing you've heard, combined with the cold feeling and how your original plans after getting out of the library was to get under your blankets at home, it did made you sleepy. So the though of finally getting a good rest before going home appealed more to you than the though that maybe Eddie's offer could be take both ways if you were awake enough

"I would love that" was your only answer

You both felt how the atmosphere changed. It was as if eletric bolts were cursing through each other's veins, making you both aware of the tension that was growing between you both. Eddie guided you to his room, and upon entering, he quickly run to discard something that was hanging on his bed frame, and turned back to you

"Welcome to my humble cave, m'lady"

Going straight to his bed and laying on your side, you didn't took much notice of your surroundings, wanting nothing more to cover yourself and finally get rid of the shivering that was taking over your body

Eddie stepped closer, covering you with a blanket that was lying around his bed, and sitting on the opposite side, started to look at you. He could only think how he would never wash his pillowcase again, wanting nothing more than to keep your scent for himself. He also took notice of how your hair fell around your head, making you seem like an angel to him.

"Could you..." You started, voice low as if you were scared of being caught saying that "...lay down with me? You could keep talking, your voice relaxes me"

An silent followed your question, and you thought that you had got the signs all wrong, that Eddie wasn't actually reciprocating your feelings, but just being nice.

Truth being told, you did had feelings for the older boy. That was the only reason you lingered for a few moments to watch his little show on the cafeteria, the only reason you started listening to metal bands (even though you felt that the style wasn't for you), and the only reason you were so quick on accept his requests. But maybe, that was only you, so why were you being so eager to feel him by your side and scare him off with your question and then lose the friendship that was building during the last hours?

You only got out of your line of thoughts when you heard the bed cracking on the other side, and felt a presence besides you

"It would be a pleasure. Even though that means that my voice makes you sleepi" you heard Eddie voice saying, feeling the grin on his tone

You could be wrong. He could just be happy to have a new friend, he could maybe just being nice to you, not knowing how to act near a girl, or maybe, and that was your favorite option, just maybe, he reciprocated your feelings

Feeling bold with your new theory, you went as far as you had gone with a boy, asking him one last question before closing your eyes

"Could you hug me, Eddie?"

He felt like the luckiest man alive. How could he deny you anything when you spoke with your soft voice that he wished for years to hear. Eddie knew that the thing he wished the most would end up being his downfall, already accepting that now you held imense power over him

Eddie put his hands around your waist, coming closer to you and daring even to put his head on your neck. You could feel his breath down your skin, making goosebumps appear. You could feel the heat from his hands going straigh to your waist and flowing through your body. You went a little back with your body, pressing yourself further in his hug and relaxing more in his touch

"Thank you, Eddie. You saved me from a very boring day" He heard you saying, your voice muffled on the pillow. He could sense you slowly drifting to sleep, and decided that he should say something before being too late

"Anything for my beautiful lady"

And in that moment, Eddie promised to himself to never let you go out of his reach.

Period Pain (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Warnings: Very anatomical discussion about what a period is, cramps

Y/n groans and burrows deeper into Eddie's blanket, curling up into a little ball as she tries to conserve warmth. Her hand wanders to her abdomen, where she clutches her stomach, trying to prevent the cramps. 

Y/n's boyfriend, Eddie, watches from across the room, almost frightened at her state of paralyzation. They had began spending much more time together in the past month, more after school hang-outs, even weekend sleepovers. But suddenly, she stopped being her usual, energetic self and reverted to some little gremlin-hobbit...thing.

"A-Are you okay, Y/n?" Eddie finally asks, having had enough of being confused by what was going on. "Are you sick or something?"

"I'm on my period, Eddie," Y/n's voice sounds from under the pile of blankets she's hidden under.

Eddie blinks, scouring his minimal archives of female knowledge for any knowledge of "periods." It proves mostly unsuccessful. At his silence, Y/n rolls over and narrows her eyes. "You do know what a period is, right?" She asks tenatively.

He blinks at her once as a sheepish smile overcomes his face. Y/n sits up, adjusting the blankets around her and fixing Eddie's Hellfire Shirt, which is slung over her frame (which Eddie finds incredibly sexy, mind you). "Sit," she says, patting the space on the bed beside her.

He does, scooching close to her and leaning up against the wall his bed is pushed against. He looks at her with those big, puppy dog eyes, those eyes that say "I am listening to every word you say and am utterly, hopelessly devoted to you. Please continue with your thoughts."

"So once every month, the female body goes through a cycle called ovulation. It's when our ovaries, which are right here," Y/n begins, taking Eddie's hands and placing them right beneath the little bulge in her stomach. "Release eggs that travel through the fallopian tubes, which are here," she continues, guiding his hands along a little squiggle that leads to his hands resting right above her pubic bone. "While this is happening, the lining in the uterus, which is here, thickens to prepare for a fetus, or baby.

"If the eggs that were released don't get fertilized, then the thicker uterus lining detaches and sheds itself. Because it's part of the body, it's covered in blood, and that release is called a period, or menstration. It usually lasts for about a week. The uterus contracts to release the lining, making us have cramps. And our estrogen levels, which are the chemicals that make us female, are higher, which can make us a little more...irritable," Y/n finishes, Eddie's ringed hands still resting on her stomach. The cold rings seep through the thin fabric of the shirt, sending goosebumps up her arms.

Eddie's eyes are muddled with two different emotions. One of horror and one of pure fascination. "Uh, one, that's...awful. And horrible. And partially gross. Not you but just the...ritualistic blood bath. And you're so strong for dealing with that every month," he says, pressing a kiss on Y/n's face after every sentence, much to her giggling delight. "Two, all of that knowledge stored in that big, beautiful brain of yours is really hot," he says, gently shifting her underneath him.

Y/n laughs, wrapping her arms around his neck and allowing him to kiss her. "Having my period usually means I don't want to have sex. It's too much of a hassle to have to clean up," she whispers, making him frown and playfully collapse on her.

"Babeeee," he whines, looking up at her with big eyes. "Then why did you have to go all smart, Ms. L/n on me? You know how I get when you use your big girl voice."

"My 'big girl voice?' What is this, third grade?" Y/n laughs, pushing Eddie off her so he's on his back beside her.

"Well, what about cuddles? Can you do that?" He asks, propping himself up on his elbow.

"Those are the best," Y/n says, throwing a leg and arm over him and cuddling up, placing the blanket back over him as she closes her eyes. Eddie's arms wrap around her, holding his girlfriend close to him as his own eyes close in contentment. 

\\2 Months Later//

Eddie places his finger on his calender, dragging it to the current date and tapping his finger on the note. "Y/n's Blood Bath," it reads. He grabs the keys to his van and heads outside, starting up the car and driving to the local pharmacy. 

He wanders the aisles, looking for some direction. After another cycle, Eddie began to pick up on the pattern that Y/n went through, and observed what she had to make her feel better. Besides a ridiculous amount of quality time with Eddie. 

He finds himself in the feminine care aisle and begins browsing the shelves, completely confused, but wanting to help Y/n in any way he can. So, he buys a big bag of pads and tampons. Walking over to the drug aisle, he buys a large bottle of Ibuprophen. Finally, he buys a jumbo family size bag of her favorite chocolates. 

Once Eddie gets to check-out, the clerk eyes Eddie with uncertainty, slowly beginning to scan them. Eddie, the smug little shit he is, just flashes them a shit-eating grin, rocking on his heels and paying for it in whole. He gets in his car and places the bag on the passenger seat, kicking the van into gear and driving off to Y/n's house.

Darkness has settled over her neighborhood as he parks outside of her window. Getting out of the car, he can see the lights on in her room through the drawn curtains. Picking up a rock on the lawn, he tosses it at her window, repeating it 3 more times before Y/n throws open the curtains to see Eddie standing below her. 

He smiles up at her and waves, holding the bag above his head and shaking it. Y/n opens her window so that he can hoist himself into it, landing ungracefully on her floor. "Eddie?" She whisper-yells. "What are you doing here? What's this?" She asks, helping him up.

He looks down at her and pushes her hair behind her ear with a little smile. "Your Knight in Shining Armor has arrived, m'lady. I've got all the essentials, those weird products that almost got me kicked out of CVS, chocolate, pain medication, and the best part...me," he says, spreading his arms.

Of course, the hormones almot make Y/n start crying, her eyes filling with tears as she launche sherself into her boyfriend's arms. "Eddie, this is amazing! Thank you so much, babe!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm pretty great," Eddie sighs, hugging Y/n back and kissing her forehead with a small smile.

\\The Next Day//

Y/n winces at lunch, leaning her head on Eddie's shoulder as her body contracts with a cramp. Eddie looks down at her in concern. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Forgot the meds," she mumbles, burying her face in his neck, inhaling his comforting scent.

Eddie sighs, rolling his eyes and rummaging in the inside pocket of his jacket. "You're lucky you take up about 90% of my brain space," he says, subtly pressing 2 pills in her hand. "Who's the best boyfriend?"

"Oh my god, you are," Y/n says eagerly, planting a big kiss on his lips that leaves Eddie bright red and the boys at the table whistling.

\--/

The bell trills 3:00 pm. Y/n eagerly pushes out of her chair, grabbing her backpack and making her way through the throngs of people in the hallway before she gets out the door, the mild warm weather of the afternoon seeping into her pores.

She walks through the parking lot to where she finds Eddie leaning against his van, waiting for her. Her chest deflates in relief at the sight of him, knowing that she'll be able to relax with him in his trailer, and that he'll take good care of her.

"Hey there, m'lady," he says, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a soft kiss on her lips, playing with Y/n's hair. "Ready to go home?"

"Please," is all Y/n says as she gets into his car.

Once they get into his trailer, Y/n immediately changes into one of his shirts and slips under the covers, getting comfortable and making herself at home. Eddie rummages through his drawers and pulls out two of Y/n's favorite movies with a smile. "Movie night?" He suggests with a smile.

At 6:00, Eddie heads into the kitchen to make some frozen dinner. He can't cook, come on now, but he tries his best, and that's enough for Y/n. So they sit on his bed together, watching movies, eating dinner, and talking about their day.

We Aren’t Friends

A/N: ummm thank you so much for the amazing response to “Vanilla”!! I’m pretty certain it’s my most popular piece to date and seeing the response just makes me want to write even more. So please comment and reblog, because while likes are awesome, the reblogs boost visibility and the comments just make me happy 😂

Summary: you’re the good girl- good grades, well behaved, picture perfect princess- and you’ve been paired with the boy who you have nothing in common with for a school project. Eddie Munson was infamous and you stayed in completely different social circles. You always thought he hated you and your type until you saw him with Chrissy Cunningham. Why could he be friends with her and not with you? Why did you even care?

Pairing: Eddie x Fem!Reader

Warnings: jealousy?, mentions of drug use and bullying, no spoilers really

“Alright so meet with your partners to discuss your plans for the project going forward…and might I remind you, this is worth forty percent of your final grade,” you teacher told the class. You looked over at your partner- Eddie “the freak” Munson. He sent a wink your way and you sighed; this was going to be harder than you thought.

“Okay so I know you’re not really into the whole doing good in school thing so how about I just do the project and slap your name on it?” You suggested.

“While that is a tempting offer, sweetheart, I have a feeling our ever so observant teacher would notice if it doesn’t have my own personal touch,” he said, nodding over to your teacher who was already glaring at him.

“Fine, um, we could meet at the library right after school is over. I know nights don’t work for you because of your club.”

“You know about that?” He asked, a hopeful twinkle in his eyes.

“You’re not exactly shy about it, Munson,” you laughed. “So library? After school?”

“Works for me, gorgeous.” He winked at you again before grabbing his bag and leaving the room. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were actually looking forward to seeing him again.

Your life was incredibly dull in comparison to his. You were just different, and there was nothing wrong with that. But a part of you yearned for something more exciting. Maybe Eddie could at least provide some entertainment for a while.

You found yourself waiting at the library for almost 15 minutes before he sauntered in, smelling him before you even saw him. You looked up at him with a scowl but he looked like he didn’t care, which he probably didn’t.

“Well now I only have 45 minutes before I have to get going so just sit down and listen to my ideas. I’m still suggesting I do most of the work because it’s worth a bit part of our final grade and I need to nail this,” you rambled.

“Woah, woah, woah, calm down, sweetheart. I have a feeling you could flunk this project and still pass the class.” He sat down in the chair across from you with a smirk.

“Yes well I’d rather not flunk it and keep up with my good grades. I know you don’t give a shit-”

“The princess swears!? I never would’ve guessed!” The smile on Eddie’s face only grew when you rolled your eyes.

“Maybe your bad influence is rubbing off on me already,” you said with a small smile.

“Keep hanging with me, sweetheart, and I’ll completely ruin you.” You knew he meant it jokingly but you couldn’t stop your stomach from doing a flip.

So for the next week and a half you guys met after school in the library like clockwork. He promised to show up on time if you promised to listen to him talk about D&D from time to time. It wasn’t something you understood, but you liked the way he talked about it with passion.

He gave you music recommendations and you, in turn, shared notes with him for some other classes. You told him your favorite movies and rolled your eyes when he snickered at your choices.

Sometimes in class, he’d find you looking at him and he’d wink or just shoot you a smile. Once when he heard you giggle when he rolled his eyes at the teacher, he made it his mission the entire rest of the class to make you laugh. Everyone looked at you like you were crazy but the smile on Eddie’s face was worth it.

As you got to know him a little better, it stung a little more when you would hear the jocks picking on him in the halls or at lunch time. His eyes found yours one day in the lunch room and you sent him a sad smile. You could see the hint of pain in his eyes but he shrugged it away as if it was nothing.

You weren’t quite sure why you felt so sad and angry when you saw him being bullied; maybe it was the growing friendship between the two of you or maybe it was your own growing feelings for the man.

Either way, you decided to go over and check on him. Your own friends asked where you were going but you brushed them off, making your way across the cafeteria.

“Hey Eddie. I just wanted to say that those guys are absolute assholes and you shouldn’t listen to anything they say,” you said with sincerity. His club members looked between the two of you and you knew other people were staring as well. Eddie looked at you and coughed awkwardly.

“Uh thanks, (y/l/n).” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and looked around at the leering eyes of your fellow students.

“I guess I’ll see you later then?” You asked. He gave you a small nod before quickly walking off. You thought it was weird but maybe he was just upset from the bullies. You shrugged it off and grabbed your bag, heading to your next class.

Later that day, you waited in the library for fifteen minutes. Then thirty. Then forty-five. You grabbed your books and shoved them in your bag, slamming the door on your way out. Part of you worried something had happened to him, but another part questioned why you even cared.

You had just made it to the parking lot when you noticed Eddie’s van on the far end of the lot. Eddie was leaning against it with a wide grin, talking to someone in a cheerleading outfit. You looked closer and noticed it was none other than the queen of Hawkins, Chrissy Cunningham.

So he couldn’t be friends with you yet he could run around with the most popular and pretty girl in town, blowing you off in the meantime. You tried to push down the pain bubbling up inside your chest, jumping in your car and speeding out of the lot, right past Eddie and his new friend. You knew he saw you but you didn’t care.

You trudged up to your room and instantly drew yourself a bath. You lit a few candles and poured in your favorite scented bath bubbles. You needed to calm down before working on your project. It needed to be finished with or without him- preferably without him.

After a decent soak, blasting your music to drown out any unwelcome thoughts, you threw on your fluffiest bath robe and sat down on your bed with your books in front of you. Your parents weren’t home so you could just relax without anyone bothering you.

What felt like hours went by, when in reality it was only forty-five minutes. Your album was nearing its end so you got up to change it. You happened to look up in the mirror and let out a ear splitting scream when you noticed a man standing in your window.

“Woah, calm down! Open up!” Eddie called out. You stood there clenching your chest trying to find your heart.

“What. The. Fuck. Munson!!” You screamed, flinging the window open.

“You didn’t answer your door! I was knocking for like fifteen minutes,” he said, climbing into your bedroom.

“So you climb onto my roof, you psycho?!”

“Okay, I can see how that appears mildly concerning. But I just wanted to talk to you and I didn’t have your phone number so-“

“Because we’re not friends.” His face instantly fell into a frown.

“What?”

“You don’t have my number because we’re not friends. I don’t even know how you figured out where I live to be honest. We were partners on a project, which I will finish tonight, and that’s it,” you said, trying to act as neutral as possible. Maybe if you just cut everything off you could squash whatever feelings were bubbling up inside of you.

“Is this because I blew you off today? I honestly got a little distracted and forgot and I feel totally horrible.”

“So you’re trying to justify it by saying you got distracted and forgot? I guess I’m just not as important as queen Chrissy.” You couldn’t help the venom in your tone and you could see something light up in his eyes.

“Are you jealous of Chrissy?” He asked flat out.

“W-what?” He took a step closer to you and you matched it, only to run into your bed. You were suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you were in nothing but a robe. You crossed your arms over your chest and stared down at your feet.

“Is that what the problem is, gorgeous? You’re mad because I was with another girl?”

“No, why would I care about that?” You snapped.

“Because you care about me?” You thought you heard a hint of hope in his voice, but you chose to ignore it.

“Yeah right, Munson. I’m mad because I told you how much you mean to me this project means to me and you just didn’t care enough to show up. So I’m going to finish it and hand it in to the teacher so we can just be done.”

“(Y/N), it was a drug deal and nothing more.” He tried to reach out for your hand but you recoiled.

“Yeah, right. Like Chrissy Cunningham would buy drugs. And you’re the one that decided we weren’t friends when you blew me off in the lunch room.”

“Okay, let me explain!”

“No! You’re done explaining. This really isn’t a big deal. We’re just going to go about our lives pretending the other doesn’t exist, just like before. So please leave.”

“Sweetheart-” when you finally looked up your heart broke to see how upset he looked. You wanted to take it all back but you knew in the long run this was for the better.

“Just go.” You went over and opened your bedroom door, motioning with your hand for him to leave. He stood there with pleading eyes and it took all of the conviction you had to not break down. “Go!”

He slowly walked past you, looking like he had something to say, but whatever it was, he kept to himself. Once he was out of your room, you slammed the door behind him. Once you heard your front door close, you collapsed on the floor with a sob.

Why was this hurting so much? He was nothing to you- just the freak you were paired with for a class project. You could tell yourself that over and over again, but it would never make it true. You had fallen for Eddie Munson, and you just kicked him out of your life for good.

Were you protecting yourself? Maybe. Were you overreacting? Probably. One thing was certain though, you couldn’t change what happened so you’d have to learn to live with it- to live without him.

————————————

Angst?? From me?? Never!

Anyone want a part two? 😏

Please reblog and comment!

—do i even have a chance?

summary: you’ve found him and he was sure he didn’t have a chance

warnings: usage of pet name (sweets), fluff, hint of an angst, body insecurity, cute dates, alpine, smut, mutual pining, masturbation, fingering, oral, size kink, praise kink, chubby!bucky || minors dni 18+

a/n: thanks to @bloomingbucky and @maladaptivexxdaydreaming for their helps, don’t forget to comment/reblog 🖤

Keep reading

EVERYONE WHO IS SEEING MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS!!

Please please PLEASE do NOT spoil it for people!! I personally will being it when it comes out this friday and unless I put a spoiler warning I will not spoil it!

when you walk out of the theater, wait until you get to your car to speak of the movie, everyone will probably be there to watch it too and it’s not fair for them to hear spoilers last minute.

sadly, i’ve already seen a spoiler that will be keeping me off social media until i see the movie.

thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

i hate those posts that are like "what if your mother aborted you?" because it's LIKE. i value my mother as having her own agency above my existence simply because she came first. if she aborted me, id be fine with it because in the fucking hypothetical of un-existence & knowing, id rather her have access to safe abortion than having to carry & birth when she didn't want to like wtf kind of egotistical question is that. do u not value yr mother in the least. whatever joys you've gotten out of life aren't greater than yr mother's choice

@staff please don't let the twitter users who are inevitably going to come here due to the elon purchase bully you into changing things.

Don't make tumblr a second twitter. We love our hellsite(affectionate) exactly how it is. they can get used to it or leave. Tis a delicate ecosystem here.

mea culpa (matt murdock) - series masterlist

SUMMARY: "mea culpa" (exclamation - noun/legal term)

used as an acknowledgement of one's fault or error.

↪ in which matt murdock accidentally falls in love with the district attorney's daughter.

(also a little frank castle x reader)

warnings: age gap, smut, angst, hidden relationship, love triangle, and an important reminder that the things that seem healthy in fan fiction are not necessarily health in real life lmao, reader is afab + uses she/her pronouns - MINORS DNI; anyone interacting or following w.o their age in their bio will be blocked

PART ONE: spoilt little rich girl

PART TWO: a woman of substance

PART THREE: daddy issues

PART FOUR: a walk in the park

PART FIVE: jealous, jealousy

PART SIX: bleed myself dry

PART SEVEN: got a secret, can you keep it?

PART EIGHT: an exposè

PART NINE: illicit affairs

PART TEN: straight for the castle