description: morticia and gomez addams if they survived the horrors of hawkins, got married, raised two equally dramatic children, and spent the rest of their lives being unapologetically obsessed with each other.
pairing: eddie x wife!reader
tags: eddie x reader, no y/n, husband!eddie munson, dad!eddie munson, morticia and gomez addams coded, tooth rotting fluff (they're obsessed with eachother), soulmates, edward jr & corvina, domestic bliss, slice of life, gothic romance, munson family, black cat x black cat, love as devotion and worship
TW: NSFW (18+) minors do not interact!!, PiV, unprotected, mushy fluff
WC:7.3k
A/N: requested by @pierrotandsam AGH HERE IT IS!!! I HOPE YOU LOOOOOVE IT :))) reblogs are a writer's best friend <3
I'm so obsessed with this. **I proofread as best as i could...i got three hours of sleep last night, so my brain is straight mush
Eddie still remembers the day he first laid eyes on you. Summer, going into his third senior year at Hawkins, you walked into Larry’s Auto Body Repair looking like something pulled from the pages of a half-burnt gothic novel left to rot in an attic trunk.
The heat outside had been miserable; thick, wet Indiana air that made grease cling to skin and tempers run short, but you arrived untouched by it all. Draped in black despite the July sun, lace sleeves swallowing your wrists, silver rings glinting like tiny knives beneath the fluorescent lights.
Your perfume smelled faintly of clove cigarettes, old paper, and rain. Long dark hair spilled down your back in soft waves, and your eyes, God, your eyes, looked mournful in the way stained glass saints did. Beautiful enough to make a man confess every awful thing he’s ever done, truth or not.
Eddie had nearly dropped an engine part directly on his foot.
You’d stepped into the garage like you belonged in another century entirely, gaze drifting slowly across the room with detached fascination, lingering on rusted tools and oil stains as if they were artifacts in a museum.
Then you smiled at him. Not sweet, not shy, but devastating. Like you already knew every terrible thing about him and adored him for it anyway. From that moment on, Eddie Munson was ruined.
Years later, the people of Hawkins still spoke about the two of you in hushed, bewildered voices. The Munsons of the Creel House. The strange family on the hill with wrought iron gates, tangled in dead vines and black roses that somehow bloomed year-round.
Children swore candlelight moved through the windows at impossible hours. Neighbors whispered about organ music drifting through storms and the silhouettes dancing behind curtains long after midnight.
The truth was far less sinister, mostly. You simply loved beautiful things that others were too frightened to appreciate. And Eddie loved you enough to follow you anywhere, even the old Creel House.
At first, he’d refused to even step onto the property. Too many memories. Too much blood soaked into those walls. Vecna. Chrissy. The Upside Down. Every rotten thing Hawkins tried desperately to bury lived in the bones of that house.
But then you’d walked through the front doors for the first time, black dress trailing over dusty hardwood, staring up at the massive chandelier with wonder glowing across your face like moonlight.
“Eddie,” you’d whispered softly, almost reverently. “It’s perfect.”
And that had been it. Because you looked at the house the same way you looked at him, not with fear, but affection. Like ruined things deserved devotion too. So he rebuilt it for you.
Every creaking staircase. Every shattered window. Every rotted inch of wallpaper. Together, you turned the graveyard of Victor Creel’s legacy into something warm, strange, and terribly romantic. A home, your home.
Corvina, your eldest daughter, drifted through the manor like a tiny phantom in velvet dresses, all solemn eyes and unnerving intelligence. She collected moth wings in glass jars and read Poe beneath thunderstorms while Eddie watched with equal parts pride and concern.
Meanwhile, Edward Jr, though everyone called him Teddy, was chaos incarnate. Wild curls, scraped knees, and his father’s crooked grin. The poor kid had inherited Eddie’s dramatic flair and your complete lack of fear, which meant most afternoons ended with him attempting something mildly catastrophic somewhere on the property.
Eddie had been hesitant about naming him after himself. Truthfully, he was terrified.
He remembered sitting beside you in bed while rain battered the windows, your newborn son asleep against your chest. Candlelight flickered gold across your skin as Eddie stared at the tiny little thing wearing his name.
“What if he ends up like me?” he’d asked quietly. You’d looked at him then with that same devastating softness you’d always reserved for his ugliest thoughts.
“My darling,” you murmured, brushing your fingers through his curls, “I should certainly hope so.”
And just like that, the fear dissolved. Because in your eyes, Eddie Munson had never been something to outgrow or overcome. He had always been something to cherish.
The Creel House came alive slowly in the mornings. Rain tapped softly against the tall windows that morning, the sky outside painted silver and gloomy in the way you adored most.
Eddie stood at the stove in silk pajama pants and a black robe hanging open over his tattooed chest, swaying dramatically to the music while making pancakes shaped vaguely like bats.
“Darling,” you called from your place at the kitchen table, long black sleeves draped elegantly around your coffee cup, “I do believe those are becoming progressively less edible.”
Eddie pressed a hand to his heart in mock offense. “Cruel. Wounded before breakfast.”
“You married me for my cruelty.”
“I married you because you looked at me like a Victorian widow cursed by the sea.”
You smiled over the rim of your mug. “And you looked like trouble wrapped in leather.”
“Mm,” Eddie hummed proudly. “Still do.”
Before you could respond, Eddie appeared beside your chair suddenly, dramatically dropping to one knee like a man overcome with passion. He took your hand delicately, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. Then another to your wrist. Then another just beneath your sleeve.
You laughed softly, tilting your head as his curls brushed your skin. “Edward Munson,” you murmured. “The children are awake.”
“Good,” he replied against your hand. “They should witness devotion.”
Right on cue, Corvina entered the kitchen carrying three books against her chest, long dark braid hanging over one shoulder. She glanced once at the scene before deadpanning:
“You’re disgusting.”
“Thank you, my dove,” you said warmly.
Corvina moved to pour herself coffee like she hadn’t witnessed anything unusual at all. Then came the sound of slower footsteps, Teddy.
Edward Jr. appeared in the doorway wearing his Hawkins High hoodie, backpack hanging off one shoulder, curls sticking up wildly like he’d been running nervous hands through them for an hour.
And immediately, both you and Eddie noticed the expression on his face, and Eddie straightened a little. “Whoa. What’s with the funeral look, Theodore?”
Teddy hesitated, then slowly held up a folded yellow slip of paper. Your brows lifted slightly while Corvina sipped her coffee with the detached calm of someone witnessing an execution.
“It’s a summons,” Teddy muttered.
Eddie blinked once, then dramatically pointed the spatula toward him. “What’d you do?”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“That’s exactly what I used to say,” Eddie nodded solemnly. “And I was usually innocent at least forty percent of the time.”
You extended your hand calmly. “May I see it, darling?”
Teddy crossed the kitchen and handed it over anxiously while Eddie abandoned the pancakes entirely to loom over your shoulder. His chin immediately dropped onto the top of your head while his arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind instinctively.
You unfolded the slip carefully:
REQUESTED PARENT CONFERENCE.
PRINCIPAL HIGGINS.
REGARDING: EDWARD MUNSON JR.
Eddie groaned immediately. “Jesus Christ. They started early this year.”
Teddy looked miserable. “Dad, I swear, I didn’t even do anything. It was those idiots from the basketball team—they kept messing with my stuff in gym, and one of them shoved me into a locker, and when I shoved him back, he started bleeding and—”
“Bleeding?” Corvina asked mildly.
“He ran into the trophy case!”
“Ah,” she nodded. “Natural selection.”
“Teddy,” you said softly, reaching for his hand. “Look at me.”
He did immediately.
And despite being nearly Eddie’s height now, despite the deepening voice and teenage awkwardness settling into his limbs, he still looked at you the same way he had as a child: like you could fix anything simply by speaking.
“You are not in trouble with us,” you assured gently.
Eddie nodded instantly. “Absolutely not.”
“But—”
“Nope.” Eddie waved him off. “Listen, kid, Hawkins High has been blaming Munsons for shit since before you were born. It’s practically a school tradition.”
Teddy huffed out a nervous laugh. You rose from your chair then, smoothing your hands over Eddie’s wrists where they rested around your waist. “We’ll attend the meeting.”
“Together,” Eddie added.
“And if your principal insists on being unreasonable,” you continued calmly, “your father does so enjoy making authority figures uncomfortable.”
Eddie grinned wickedly. “Baby, remember the vice principal in ‘89?”
You smiled faintly. “He looked moments from cardiac arrest.”
Teddy finally laughed properly at that, the tension melting from his shoulders almost instantly.
Without another word, Eddie reached over and grabbed one of the bat-shaped pancakes, shoving it onto Teddy’s plate. “Eat up, kid,” he said. “Nothing scarier than school administration on an empty stomach.”
Corvina glanced toward the stove. “Those are burnt.”
“They’re wonderful,” Eddie corrected.
You reached for his hand again, kissing his knuckles this time. “My talented husband,” you said softly.
Eddie practically preened under the affection, leaning down immediately to kiss you dramatically enough to make Corvina groan.
“Oh, my God.”
“Teddy,” Eddie said seriously against your mouth, “never settle for a love that doesn’t make your children physically ill.”
“Noted,” Teddy muttered through a mouthful of pancake.
By noon, rain had turned into a heavy mist that clung to Hawkins like a veil, which was the exact kind of weather you loved. The kind of weather Eddie insisted was “romantic as hell.”
The two of you walked through the halls of Hawkins High side by side like something entirely out of place amongst the fluorescent lighting and beige walls. Students slowed as you passed, conversations dipping into whispers almost immediately.
You floated through the hallway in a long black coat that brushed your calves, silver jewelry gleaming beneath the dim lights, while Eddie walked beside you in dark rings and leather, one hand firmly wrapped around yours, as if he physically couldn’t stand not touching you for more than a few seconds.
Which, truthfully, he couldn’t.
“Sweetheart,” Eddie murmured low enough only you could hear as you approached the office, “if Higgins pisses me off, are we thinking subtle psychological warfare or full public humiliation?”
You glanced at him calmly. “Let us see how brave he feels first.”
“God, I love when you threaten people poetically.”
The secretary barely looked up when you entered the office, though her expression tightened almost immediately at the sight of Eddie, still, after all these years. Eddie noticed too, squeezing your hand once before leaning casually against the counter.
“We’re here about Teddy,” he said.
The woman cleared her throat awkwardly. “Principal Higgins is expecting you.”
“Lucky him,” Eddie muttered.
You placed a gentle hand against his chest before he could continue, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from his jacket. “Behave, mon amour.”
Eddie looked down at you like you’d hung the moon itself in the sky. “For you?” he said softly. “Always.”
The secretary looked deeply uncomfortable. Good.
Principal Higgins’ office looked exactly the same as it had when Eddie sat in it at seventeen; stale coffee smell, ugly filing cabinets, school banners hanging crookedly on the walls.
Only now, Higgins himself had more gray hair and less patience. He didn’t stand when you entered. Instead, he leaned back slowly in his chair, eyes moving between you both with poorly concealed irritation.
“Mr. and Mrs. Munson.”
Eddie sat down across from him casually, slinging an arm immediately across the back of your chair. “Higgins,” he replied. “Still alive, huh?”
You rested one elegant hand atop Eddie’s knee beneath the desk, feeling him relax instantly under your touch.
Higgins ignored the comment. “Teddy was involved in an altercation yesterday afternoon.”
“Involved,” Eddie repeated. “Interesting wording.”
“He assaulted another student.”
“He defended himself,” you corrected smoothly.
Higgins finally looked directly at you then, expression tightening slightly. “And how exactly would you know that, Mrs. Munson?”
“Because, unlike this institution,” you replied calmly, “our son tells us the truth.”
Higgins folded his hands atop the desk. “Mrs. Munson, with all due respect, Edward Jr. has inherited certain… behavioral tendencies.”
There it was. Eddie’s jaw tightened instantly beneath the lazy posture he wore like armor. But you? You simply tilted your head slightly.
“What an unfortunate thing to say aloud,” you murmured.
Higgins shifted faintly. Eddie watched you carefully now, eyes practically sparkling because he knew that tone and knew it well. It was the same tone you used moments before verbally disemboweling someone.
“The Munson family,” Higgins continued carefully, “has had a difficult history with this school. Your husband, especially.”
Eddie gave a dry laugh. “Yeah, because this town treated me like I was carrying the plague.”
“You developed quite the reputation.”
“And your athletes didn’t?” Eddie shot back. “Interesting.”
“Eddie,” you said softly, not looking away from Higgins. You folded your hands neatly in your lap, expression serene enough to be unsettling.
“Our son,” you said carefully, “was cornered by three boys larger than him.”
Higgins opened his mouth, but you continued before he could speak.
“One shoved him into a locker repeatedly. Another destroyed his sketchbook. And when Theodore defended himself after being physically provoked, suddenly, he became the problem.”
Silence, and Higgins shifted again. You leaned forward slightly then, dark eyes steady on his.
“And now you sit before two former students who know exactly how Hawkins High operates and imply there is some sort of inherited defect in our child because his last name is Munson.”
Eddie looked dangerously proud beside you.
Higgins cleared his throat. “That isn’t what I meant.”
“No?” you asked gently. “Then perhaps choose your words more carefully.”
The office went quiet except for the rain tapping softly against the windows. Eddie finally leaned forward himself, rings clinking against the desk.
“Look,” he said flatly, “I know exactly what this place thinks about me. Fine. Whatever. But you do not get to stick that shit onto my son because some meathead couldn’t keep his hands to himself.”
Higgins sighed heavily. “No one is suspending Teddy.”
“Very generous,” Corvina’s voice drawled suddenly from the doorway.
All three of you turned. Corvina stood there holding a hall pass and looking deeply unimpressed.
“She followed us?” Higgins asked incredulously.
“She’s observant,” you replied.
“And nosy,” Eddie added proudly.
Corvina stepped inside without invitation. “Also, for the record, Tyler Bennett admitted in chemistry that he started it because Teddy wouldn’t let them make fun of that freshman girl.”
Eddie blinked. Then slowly turned toward his son’s principal with the most insufferably smug expression imaginable. “Huh,” he said. “Would you look at that?”
You reached over then, brushing your fingers lovingly along Eddie’s jaw.
“My darling,” you sighed softly. “It appears our son inherited your unfortunate tendency toward heroics.”
Eddie practically melted into your hand. “Baby,” he whispered dramatically, grabbing your wrist to kiss your palm, “you say the sexiest things to me.”
Corvina stood near the doorway with her arms crossed, entirely too pleased with herself. Eddie lounged back in his chair again, one boot hooked over his knee while he admired you with open, ridiculous affection.
Meanwhile, you remained perfectly composed, which somehow made you infinitely more terrifying.
“Well,” Higgins said stiffly after a long silence, “I believe this matter can be considered resolved.”
“How fortunate,” you replied smoothly.
Eddie snorted under his breath, and Higgins ignored him. “I’ll speak with the boys involved.”
“You should,” you said. “Especially if the school wishes to maintain the illusion of fairness.”
The principal’s jaw tightened faintly. Then, as though remembering something unpleasant, his eyes flicked briefly toward a framed flyer hanging beside his desk.
Hawkins High Arts Expansion Fund: Sponsored by the Munson Mortuary.
Eddie noticed immediately, as did you. A slow smile touched your lips. “You know,” you mused softly, rising from your chair, “Edward and I have always cared deeply about the arts.”
Eddie stood the second you did, naturally gravitating toward your side like a shadow stitched to your heels.
“The theater department,” you continued thoughtfully, smoothing the sleeve of your coat, “the music programs, student scholarships…”
Higgins straightened slightly.
“Hell,” Eddie added casually, “the new ceramics kiln was us.”
You turned your attention back to Higgins, expression warm enough to unsettle.
“It would simply devastate us,” you said gently, “if the environment here became hostile enough that we no longer felt comfortable continuing such generosity.”
Higgins cleared his throat quickly. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”
“No,” you agreed pleasantly. “I imagine it won’t.”
Eddie grinned beside you like the devil himself. God, he loved you. Loved the way you could flay someone alive without ever raising your voice. Loved the way people underestimated your softness right until the moment they realized it had teeth.
You reached for his hand, and he took it instantly.
“Well,” Eddie sighed dramatically, “this has been deeply irritating.”
As the four of you started toward the office door, Higgins spoke again. “Mrs. Munson.”
You paused, turning slightly. “I assure you,” he said carefully, “Theodore will be treated fairly.”
You held his gaze for a long moment, then smiled faintly. “I should hope so.”
And with that, you left. The halls quieted again as your family walked through them together.
Eddie’s hand remained clasped tightly with yours while Corvina drifted ahead in a sea of black fabric, entirely unbothered by the stares surrounding her.
The second the front doors shut behind you, Eddie turned toward you with outright admiration burning in his expression.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “Marry me again.”
You looked at him calmly. “I would a thousand times.”
Candles flickered low throughout the house, golden light dancing against dark wallpaper while thunder rolled softly somewhere in the distance.
Dinner had long since ended, dishes abandoned in favor of the far more important activity of Eddie dramatically sprawled across the velvet chaise in the sitting room with his head in your lap.
“Darling,” he sighed as you lazily combed your fingers through his curls, “if I die right now, know that I died fulfilled.”
“You’re forty years old,” Corvina deadpanned from the armchair across the room. “Not a dying Victorian poet.”
Eddie pointed accusingly toward her without lifting his head. “Your mother encourages this cruelty.”
You smiled softly down at him. “I find it endearing.”
“That’s because you worship me.”
“Correct.”
Corvina physically recoiled. “Can you two act normal for ten minutes?”
“No,” both of you answered immediately.
Teddy snorted from the floor where he sat building something suspiciously dangerous out of spare radio parts. Then, the doorbell rang, and everyone paused. Corvina moved first, way too fast for her character.
You noticed immediately. Eddie noticed immediately. Teddy noticed immediately. The three of you slowly turned toward her as she stood abruptly from the chair, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from her black skirt.
“…Interesting,” you murmured.
Corvina narrowed her eyes. “Don’t.”
Eddie sat up slowly now, a grin already forming. “Oh, my God.”
“It’s probably nothing.”
“Corvina Lucille Munson,” Teddy gasped dramatically. “Are you nervous?”
“I will kill you.”
The bell rang again. Corvina moved toward the front door with all the rigid dignity of someone approaching their execution.
You and Eddie exchanged a look. Then, silently, both rose from your seats to follow.
The front door creaked open, and standing beneath the porch light was perhaps the least expected person imaginable. A boy. Tall, clean-cut, nervous beyond belief. Bright blue varsity jacket. Hair neatly combed. Holding flowers.
The poor thing looked like he’d wandered into the wrong horror movie. Corvina stared at him; the boy stared at Corvina. Then his eyes slowly lifted, and landed directly on you and Eddie looming behind her like two beautifully dressed vampires awaiting explanation.
His face drained completely of color. Eddie blinked once, then immediately leaned toward you and whispered with genuine awe:
“He looks like he says ‘yes ma’am’ unironically.”
You nodded thoughtfully. “How refreshing.”
“Mom,” Corvina warned.
The boy swallowed hard. “H-hi, Mr. and Mrs. Munson.”
Eddie lit up instantly. “Oh, I like him.”
Corvina closed her eyes briefly like she regretted ever being born. You stepped forward gracefully, gaze drifting over the bouquet in his trembling hands.
“How lovely,” you said softly. “Funeral lilies.”
“They’re her favorite,” he blurted.
Then you looked at Corvina slowly, while Corvina looked horrified. Eddie looked seconds from losing his mind entirely.
“Teddy,” he whispered sharply. “Your sister has a boyfriend.”
“I KNEW IT.”
“He is not my boyfriend,” Corvina snapped immediately. “He’s an experiment.”
The boy blinked. “An… experiment?”
“You’re studying social dynamics?” you guessed politely.
“Yes,” Corvina said quickly.
Eddie crossed his arms. “By holding hands with the quarterback?”
“Second-string quarterback,” Teddy corrected.
Everyone looked at the boy while he awkwardly raised one hand. “We lost regionals.”
Eddie burst out laughing. “Oh my God, sweetheart,” he wheezed to you. “She brought home a jock.”
“He’s not a jock.”
The boy tried to help. “I’m also on the debate team.”
You gasped softly. “How multifaceted.”
Corvina looked moments from throwing herself from the staircase.
Eddie grinned wickedly at her. “Baby bat’s got a crush.”
“I do not.”
“He knows your favorite flowers,” Teddy sang obnoxiously.
“I hate this family.”
The boy, still somehow standing there despite the obvious psychological warfare occurring around him, looked toward Corvina carefully. And to everyone’s shock, his expression softened.
“She talks about you guys a lot, actually.”
Corvina froze.
Eddie immediately clutched his chest dramatically. “Oh, my.”
“Dad.”
“She told me,” the boy continued nervously, “that her parents are… intense, but very in love.”
You smiled faintly. Corvina looked like she wanted the floorboards to consume her.
“And,” he added carefully, “that her dad still leaves dead roses on her mom’s pillow every morning.”
Eddie looked at you instantly, utterly smitten. “Baby,” he whispered emotionally, “our love is inspiring the youth.”
You reached up, smoothing your hand against his jaw affectionately. “We are deeply romantic.”
“You’re deeply weird,” Teddy corrected.
“Thank you.”
Corvina groaned. “Can we please go before they start kissing again?”
Too late. Eddie had already grabbed your hand dramatically.
“You wound me, little raven,” he said, pressing a theatrical kiss against your knuckles. “Your mother’s beauty simply overwhelms me.”
The boy stared. Teddy stared. Corvina pinched the bridge of her nose. And you, you simply looked at your husband with soft, endless devotion while thunder echoed gently overhead.
“Oh, mon amour,” you sighed lovingly. “You are still the most handsome thing this house has ever held.”
Eddie nearly died on the spot.
The house felt different when the children were gone. Corvina had vanished off to some poetry reading with her painfully polite almost-boyfriend, while Teddy was staying overnight at a friend’s house after aggressively insisting he was “old enough to survive one night without parental supervision.”
Eddie had looked personally offended by the statement.
Now the evening rain had finally stopped, leaving the world outside soaked silver beneath the moonlight.
You stood in front of the bedroom mirror, fastening a pair of silver earrings, when Eddie appeared in the doorway, already staring at you like a man deeply unwell. His dark button-up hung half-open, curls still damp from the shower, rings glinting in the candlelight.
But his expression, my God. After all these years, he still looked at you like the first breath after drowning.
“Well,” he murmured, leaning against the doorframe, “there goes every coherent thought I’ve ever had.”
You smiled softly at his reflection. “You say that every time I wear black.”
“Because every time you wear black, I fall in love with you all over again.”
“You’re very dramatic.”
“You’re very beautiful. We all cope differently.” You laughed quietly as he crossed the room toward you.
The second he reached you, his hands found your waist instinctively, warm and familiar through the fabric of your dress. He buried his face briefly against your neck with a content sigh like “this—this right here—was the safest place in the universe.”
“Close your eyes,” he murmured.
You raised a brow. “Edward.”
“Please?”
Amused, you obeyed. You heard him moving around the room for a moment before something soft brushed across your palms.
Flowers.
When you opened your eyes again, Eddie stood before you holding a bouquet of black dahlias and dead roses tied together with velvet ribbon, just like your first date.
“Oh,” you whispered.
Eddie suddenly looked shy beneath all the tattoos and bravado. “I know they’re a little wilted, but Gareth’s florist cousin said—”
“They’re perfect.”
The relief on his face was immediate. You reached up carefully, fingertips brushing his cheek while he melted into your touch on instinct.
“Do you remember,” you asked softly, “what you said to me the night you gave me flowers for the first time?”
Eddie grinned a little. “Yeah.” He leaned closer. “‘Most girls want roses. You looked like you’d appreciate something half-dead.’”
“And I nearly married you on the spot.”
“You definitely wanted me carnally.”
You laughed again and kissed him gently. Eddie hummed happily against your mouth, already chasing after another kiss before you’d fully pulled away.
“Come on,” he whispered. “I’ve got a surprise.”
The graveyard sat at the edge of Hawkins beneath enormous twisted trees, moonlight filtering silver across old headstones and damp grass. Most people found it unsettling, but you found it beautiful, especially tonight.
Your breath caught softly as Eddie led you through the cemetery gates hand in hand.
Because there, beneath the crooked oak tree where he’d taken you all those years ago, sat an entire picnic laid out atop black blankets and velvet pillows. Candles flickered inside lanterns. An old radio played something metal, low enough to blend with the wind.
Your favorite wine rested beside a basket overflowing with chocolate-covered strawberries and homemade pastries, which Eddie had very obviously burnt slightly. And in the center, a vase of black dahlias. Eddie rubbed the back of his neck suddenly, almost bashful. “I know it’s kinda stupid—”
“It isn’t.”
Your voice was so soft that it stopped him immediately. He watched as you stepped slowly into the little space he’d created, moonlight catching the emotion shimmering across your face.
“You remembered everything,” you whispered.
“Course I did.”
Eddie moved closer then, taking your hands carefully. “This is where I fell in love with you,” he admitted quietly. “Figured it deserved revisiting.”
Your chest ached. Because despite all his theatrics, despite the flirting and dramatics and endless teasing, Eddie loved with terrifying sincerity, always had.
You touched his face gently. “You never told me you loved me that night.”
“No,” he said softly. “But I knew.”
The wind moved through the cemetery trees around you, carrying the scent of rain and earth and candle smoke. Then Eddie suddenly dropped dramatically onto the blanket.
“Now,” he announced, patting the spot beside him, “come seduce your husband under the moonlight.”
You smiled helplessly and settled beside him. Immediately, he pulled you into his lap like gravity itself demanded it. You curled against him easily, fingers playing with the rings on his hand while his chin rested atop your shoulder.
For a while, neither of you spoke. You simply existed there together beneath the stars, wrapped in candlelight and old music and decades worth of devotion.
Eventually, Eddie pressed a slow kiss against your neck. “You know,” he murmured, “I was so scared to bring you here on our first date.”
You turned slightly. “You were?”
“Terrified.” He laughed softly against your skin. “Wayne told me if I took a girl to a graveyard, she’d think I was either a serial killer or possessed.”
“And instead?”
“You told me it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for you.”
“It still is.”
Eddie looked at you then. And suddenly he was twenty again; grease stains on his hands, heart beating too fast, staring at the most hauntingly beautiful girl he’d ever seen while wondering how someone so lovely could possibly want him back.
Only now, he knew, because you’d spent decades proving it.
His hand slid carefully against your cheek. “My sweet girl,” he whispered.
You kissed him before he could say anything else. Slow and loving, the kind of kiss built from years and years of choosing each other over and over again. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled softly again.
Eddie smiled against your mouth. “Think the kids are behaving themselves?”
You smoothed your fingers through his curls lazily. “Not our concern tonight.”
“God,” he sighed happily, pulling you impossibly closer, “I adore you.”
“Eddie,” you whispered, tilting your head as his lips brushed the side of your neck. “You’ve outdone yourself, mon amour.”
He hummed against your skin, the sound vibrating through you. “Only the best for you.”
You laughed softly, and the sound made him tighten his hold, one hand sliding reverently down your side, tracing the black silk of your dress.
Eddie loved pleasing you more than anything, maybe even more than breathing. He lived for the way your breath would hitch when he touched you just right, for the way you looked at him like he was the only man in any world worth having.
His fingers found the hem of your dress and slipped beneath it, warm palm gliding up your thigh. “Let me worship you here,” he murmured, voice low and rough with devotion.
You turned in his lap, straddling him, your long dark hair falling around you both like a curtain. The cemetery was empty, the night yours alone. You cupped his face, thumbs brushing his cheeks, silver rings cool against his skin.
“Then worship me, Edward,” you said softly, the command wrapped in velvet.
Eddie’s eyes darkened with hunger and endless love. He kissed you deeply, almost reverently at first, then with growing heat as your tongues met. His hands roamed, pushing your dress up around your hips. He groaned when he realized you’d worn nothing beneath it.
“Fuuuck me,” he breathed against your mouth, a crooked, adoring grin breaking through.
“Oh my love, I plan to.”
He laughed, the sound rich and warm, then lowered you gently onto your back atop the velvet pillows. The cool night air kissed your skin as he peeled the dress from your body, kissing every inch he revealed. Your collarbones, the swell of your breasts, the soft plane of your stomach. When he reached the apex of your thighs, he looked up at you with pure reverence.
He settled between your legs, curls brushing your inner thighs as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His tongue found your center with devastating patience; slow, worshipful strokes that had your fingers tightening in his hair.
He moaned into you like you were the finest thing he’d ever tasted, savoring every gasp and whisper of his name that left your lips.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured against your slick flesh, voice thick. “Let me hear how good I make you feel.”
Your back arched as pleasure coiled tight inside you, and Eddie watched it all unfold like a man witnessing divinity. When you came undone beneath his tongue, thighs trembling around his head, he held you through it, kissing you gently until the waves subsided.
Only then did he rise, shedding his shirt and pants with reverent haste. His cock was hard and aching for you, but he took his time, crawling over you, kissing you so deeply you tasted yourself on his tongue.
“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, lining himself up. “More than life. More than death. More than anything in this fucking universe.”
You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him inside you with one smooth thrust. Both of you moaned at the perfect fit; years together, and it still felt like coming home.
Eddie moved with slow, deep rolls of his hips, savoring every clench of your walls around him. His forehead pressed to yours, curls falling around your faces as he gazed into your eyes.
“Look at me while I fuck you, baby,” he breathed, devotion dripping from every word. “Want to see those saintly eyes when you come on my cock again.”
The cemetery felt alive around you; the wind whispering through the trees, the distant hoot of an owl, the scent of earth and night-blooming flowers mixing with sweat and sex. Eddie’s pace gradually quickened, one hand sliding between you to circle your clit while the other pinned your wrist gently above your head.
You came again with a soft, broken cry of his name, pulling him over the edge with you. He buried himself deep, spilling inside you with a guttural groan, hips stuttering as pleasure wrecked him. Even then, he kept moving; lazy, loving thrusts to draw it out, kissing you through every aftershock.
Afterward, he collapsed beside you and immediately pulled you into his arms, tucking your head beneath his chin. His fingers traced lazy patterns along your spine while your leg draped over his hip.
Eddie pressed a kiss to your hair, voice hoarse with satisfaction. “I’d desecrate every grave in Hawkins if it meant making you feel like that.”
You smiled against his chest, fingertips playing with the silver strands beginning to thread through his dark curls. “If we keep this up, Corvina and Teddy may have a sibling.”
“Would that be so bad? Another mini-Munson running around, raising hell?”
You rolled your eyes lovingly, planting a few peppered kisses along his chest and jaw. “Poor Principal Higgins wouldn’t know what to do with himself with a third Munson.”
Dinner in the Creel-Munson House was rarely quiet. Not because anyone particularly tried to be loud, it was simply impossible for four Munsons to exist in the same room without the atmosphere becoming theatrical.
Thunder groaned outside while candlelight flickered across the dining room, illuminating velvet curtains, silver dishes, and the massive candelabra Teddy insisted made “every meal feel like a vampire intervention.”
Tonight, Eddie had been suspiciously smug since five o’clock, you noticed immediately. Corvina noticed immediately. Teddy noticed immediately. Which meant all three of you spent most of dinner staring at him with increasing suspicion while he fought a grin behind his wine glass.
Finally, Teddy pointed his fork accusingly. “You’re hiding something.”
Eddie gasped dramatically. “What a horrible accusation.”
“You’ve been smirking for an hour,” Corvina added.
“You also called the garlic bread ‘historic,’” Teddy said. “That means something’s wrong.”
You smiled faintly from your seat at the head of the table. “Darling,” you said gently to Eddie, “are you planning a crime?”
Eddie looked delighted by the question. “No,” he answered proudly. “Something better.”
Then, with all the ceremony of a man revealing the crown jewels, Eddie reached into his jacket and slapped four tickets dramatically onto the table. Silence.
Teddy squinted. Then his eyes widened so violently you thought they might leave his skull.
“No fucking way.”
“Language,” you corrected softly.
“No FUCKING way.”
Corvina leaned forward slightly now, dark eyes narrowing in interest. Eddie sat back in his chair with unbearable smugness. “Iron Maiden,” he announced grandly. “Indianapolis. Front section.”
Teddy SHRIEKED, like actually shrieked. The sound echoed through the dining room while Eddie burst into laughter.
“Oh my God,” Teddy gasped, grabbing the tickets with trembling hands. “Dad—Dad, are you serious?!”
“Your old man still has connections, baby.”
Teddy launched out of his chair instantly.
You sighed knowingly. “Brace yourself, mon amour.”
A second later, Teddy practically tackled Eddie backward in a hug. “There he is,” Eddie wheezed dramatically as Teddy nearly crushed him. “My son. My flesh and blood.”
“You are the coolest person alive.”
“I know.”
Corvina, meanwhile, carefully picked up one of the tickets with much more restraint. But you noticed the tiny upward twitch at the corner of her mouth immediately.
“Dickinson is still performing?” she asked calmly.
Eddie clutched his chest. “That sounded almost excited.”
“It wasn’t.”
“She got the Munson concert gene,” Teddy informed you loudly.
“She absolutely did,” Eddie whispered emotionally. Corvina rolled her eyes, though there was the faintest flush creeping into her cheeks now. You watched your family fondly from your chair, chin resting against your hand.
This. This was your favorite thing.
Eddie glowing with happiness while the children inherited every loud, passionate, ridiculous piece of him without even realizing it. Teddy flopped back into his chair, grinning wildly.
“This is literally the greatest day of my life.”
Eddie pointed at him immediately. “That’s exactly what I said when your mother kissed me the first time.”
“You say that about everything Mom does,” Corvina muttered.
“Because your mother is extraordinary.”
You reached over and touched his hand gently, as Eddie looked at you like he’d been shot directly through the heart.
Then, Corvina cleared her throat, causing everyone to look at her immediately.
“…What,” she said flatly.
Eddie narrowed his eyes. “You’re about to ask for something.”
“I’m not.”
“You did the voice.”
Teddy gasped dramatically. “She DID do the voice.”
Corvina looked deeply regretful. “I hate all of you.”
You smiled softly. “What is it, little raven?”
A pause. Then, with visible reluctance: “…Could I possibly have one additional ticket?”
The room went silent, and Eddie blinked once. Then slowly lowered his wine glass.
“…For who?”
Corvina stared at her plate. “No one.”
“Corvina.”
Another pause.
“…Damien.”
Eddie’s entire body reacted as if he’d just been informed the government had finally collapsed.
“THE BOYFRIEND?”
“He is not—”
“The assistant quarterback?!” Teddy shouted.
“THE DEBATE CLUB ONE?” Eddie cried simultaneously.
Corvina groaned into her hands. You, meanwhile, were trying very hard not to smile.
“He likes Iron Maiden,” Corvina muttered.
Eddie looked genuinely betrayed. “The clean-cut child likes Maiden?”
“He listens to metal with me.”
Eddie stared at her for a long moment. Then suddenly leaned back in his chair, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “Oh, my God.”
“What?”
“She likes him.”
“I do not.”
“She’s sharing music with him,” Eddie whispered hoarsely to you. “Baby, that’s intimate.”
Teddy looked horrified. “That’s like… sacred.”
“Exactly.”
Corvina looked ready to walk into traffic. You finally spoke, voice warm with amusement.
“Perhaps,” you said carefully, “she simply enjoys his company.”
Corvina nodded quickly. “Exactly.”
Eddie narrowed his eyes immediately. “Have you held hands?”
“Dad.”
“HAVE you?”
“No.” Too fast.
Teddy slammed both hands on the table. “THAT WAS A LIE.”
Corvina pointed at him. “You are dead to me.”
Eddie suddenly looked emotional again. “Oh, sweetheart,” he sighed dramatically, “your first love.”
“It’s not love!”
You stood then, gliding around the table toward your daughter. Corvina visibly braced herself for teasing. Instead, you simply smoothed a strand of dark hair behind her ear gently.
And very softly, you said: “If someone makes our little raven smile enough to frighten her this badly… we should like to know him.”
Corvina froze. Because despite all the drama and teasing, your family loved hard. Openly, and without shame, just like Eddie always had.
The house had long since gone quiet. Somewhere downstairs, the grandfather clock groaned past midnight while rain tapped softly against the windows of your bedroom. Eddie lay sprawled across your chest like an oversized cat, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist while you lazily played with his curls.
This had always been his favorite place to exist, right here, with you.
Even after all these years, he still sought you out instinctively. Every night, somehow ended the same way: his head in your lap, or tucked against your chest, or buried into your neck while he mumbled half-asleep nonsense against your skin. Tonight was no different.
“You know,” Eddie murmured sleepily, eyes closed, “I think Corvina gets scarier every day.”
You smiled softly, carefully winding one silver-threaded curl around your finger. “She is your daughter.”
“Exactly why I’m concerned.”
“You cried when she said she held his hand.”
“I did not cry.”
“You absolutely did.”
Eddie cracked one eye open. “I became emotional.”
“You gasped loud enough to frighten Teddy.”
“That was fatherly grief.”
Your laugh came soft and quiet in the dark. God, he loved that sound.
Eddie tilted his head slightly against you just to hear it again. Then your fingers paused suddenly in his curls, a tiny thing, barely noticeable. But Eddie felt it immediately.
“What?” he murmured.
You said nothing at first. Instead, your fingers carefully separated one curl from the rest, then another. Eddie finally looked up slightly, finding your expression softened by something achingly tender.
“My darling,” you whispered.
“Hm?”
You gently pulled something free: a silver strand, then another.
Eddie blinked once. “Oh,” he said.
There was no fear in his voice, just surprise. You held the strands delicately between your fingers, studying them beneath candlelight like they were precious threads of moonlight themselves.
Eddie suddenly looked sheepish. “Well,” he muttered, “guess I’m getting old.”
You looked almost offended by the statement. “Edward Munson,” you said softly, “you have survived.”
You slid from beneath him carefully, crossing toward the antique vanity near the window while Eddie watched you in sleepy confusion.
Then you reached for the little silver locket resting beside your jewelry tray, the one you wore nearly every day, etched with the letter ‘E’.
Eddie pushed himself upright slightly as you opened it carefully. Inside rested tiny fragments of your life together.
A pressed black rose petal from your wedding bouquet. A piece of the guitar pick Eddie used the first time he played guitar for you. A photograph so faded it barely showed two young people grinning in a cemetery beneath storm clouds.
Eddie went completely still.
You placed the silver strands gently beside them, like they were treasures. Then you closed the locket softly and climbed back into bed.
Eddie stared at you for a long moment after you settled beside him again. “…You kept all that?”
You looked genuinely puzzled. “Of course I did.”
“Baby, there’s literally a piece of an old guitar pick in there.”
“The broken corner because you were nervous while playing for me.”
His expression cracked instantly. “You remember that?”
“You dropped it three times before speaking to me,” you replied calmly. “You were adorable.”
Eddie let out a weak laugh, suddenly overwhelmed in the way only you could overwhelm him. Because no one had ever looked at the broken, embarrassing, vulnerable pieces of him and treated them like sacred things before you.
Your fingers slowly returned to his curls. “You know what I see,” you murmured softly, “when I look at these?”
Eddie shook his head once.
“A life.”
His eyes burned immediately, so you kissed his forehead gently.
“The silver only proves you stayed long enough to grow old with me,” you whispered.
And that nearly destroyed him. Eddie suddenly pulled himself over you completely, burying his face into your neck while holding you tight enough to make you laugh softly again.
“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled against your skin. “How are you real?”
You stroked your fingers through his curls carefully, silver strands and all. “I might ask you the same thing.”
“No, seriously,” Eddie groaned dramatically. “You put my gray hairs in a locket. That’s insane behavior.”
“You married me willingly.”
“I’d marry you in every lifetime.”
Your expression softened instantly. Eddie lifted his head, then just enough to look at you through the candlelight; older now, yes, lines at the corners of his eyes and silver threading through dark curls.
But still the same boy who fell hopelessly in love with a gothic girl in black lace all those years ago. Still yours, always yours.
“You know what the worst part is?” he murmured sleepily.
“What’s that, mon amour?”
“I still get nervous around you.”
You smiled. Then pulled him down into another kiss while rain whispered softly against the windows of your haunted little home.
AGH I HOPE YOU ALL LOVED ITTT:)))
Hell of a Summer pt.2 is currently in the works, GET EXCITEDDDD YUHHH
Best friend! Eddie Munson/coworker! Eddie munson x Reader
Word count: 4.7k
Summary: After the death of your beloved cat, Eddie can tell something is wrong as you do your best not to fall apart in front of him. Even if you won’t tell him what’s wrong, he will do anything to try to hold you together.
Contains: death of a pet, mentions of food, grief, reader is briefly suspected of having an eating disorder, clueless but well meaning Eddie
Requested by @dreamerjj
Day 1 was the hardest, still as time passed you cursed anyone that said time heals all things. Your cat, quite possibly the best friend you had ever or would ever have, had passed. It wasn’t something you had prepared yourself for, even as she began to age. To you, she would live forever, as all pets should.
Your second best friend, and coworker, Eddie Munson, noticed something was off 3 days after. It wasn’t like you were usually happy go lucky, often finding yourself snapping at people who deserved it or sassing others for pure enjoyment. This was different. You suddenly lost your bite.
He did consider whether he should address your sudden shift in demeanor, but ultimately decided it was best to leave it. He had almost forgotten it by morning, but that next afternoon only worsened his worry.
You were never late to work, annoyingly so. Your punctuality was a trait that employers commended but Eddie often teased you over. He claimed that it made you incredibly nerdy, and you would usually bite back with yet another addition to the long list of things that made him nerdier than you.
That morning you walked in 15 minutes late. Your hair was more disheveled than usual, makeup done less neatly, and uniform not neatly pressed. Eddie only opened his mouth to point out that you were late, more out of shock than to tease.
“Yeah, sorry,” you breathed out in reply. No bite, no sarcasm, no insult, and most concerning, no true apology behind the words. You spoke as if you were a robot, pre-programed to be polite and move on with your tasks. You didn’t look up to see the way his brow furrowed or the way he nearly reached for you to ask what was wrong. You ran to the back room to clock in and set your things down before he could get another word out.
Working at the theater with Eddie was a dream. It was often just the two of you, with the occasional drop in from the owner or his wife. Crowds were small, tasks were quick, and you had plenty of down time to goof off with each other. At least you used to. Suddenly, you found yourself avoiding Eddie at all costs while you were on the clock. You insisted on starting each film, lingering in the projection booth much longer than necessary each time. You jumped up to help customers with finding seating or getting concessions. He was so used to you trying to goad him into playing rock paper scissors to fight over who had to interact with the public or walk down the hall.
He began to worry he had said or done something wrong. For the first half of that shift, you found it incredibly easy to avoid Eddie, as he was completely lost in thought. He was desperately trying to remember what it was that he was supposed to apologize for, but he came up short.
You spoke to him for the first time since your arrival around noon.
“You want the first lunch break or…?”
“Uh,” he paused, trying to process your words as he pulled himself from his thoughts, “Uhm, no. You go ahead.” He smiled, hoping that being overly nice would do something, anything, for the situation. His shoulders dropped again after you turned away from him, only having offered a pitiful half smile.
He remained at the concession counter while you slinked off to the break room. You had barely had the energy to pack yourself a lunch that morning, having stayed up most of the night trying to get rid of the awful feeling eating away at you. Watching all your favorite movies and listening to your favorite music hadn’t helped. The leftovers from a week ago in your lunchbox stared up at you, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to eat it. The smell was a bit off anyway.
The room was bathed in silence, and it was growing to be too much. You watched the clock as the time passed, grateful to have an excuse to hide your sorrows from your best friend, but tortured by the boring length. 20 minutes into your 30 minute break and you could feel yourself start to crack. You had tried so hard to hold it together, even while you were alone, and it was becoming too much. You angrily swiped away the first tear as it fell. You had cried already, but in the privacy of your own home. This was off limits, you couldn’t allow yourself to do it here. Not in public, and definitely not somewhere Eddie could walk in at any moment.
Unfortunately for you, he did just that at that very moment. He had spent the last 20 minutes reeling, still trying to recall what he could have done to ruin your dynamic. He had finally just decided to ask you. He feared how you would react to him asking, but anything was worth it to get you back. He had nearly charged into the back room, between showings in hope that no customers would come in, but he completely stilled in his tracks when he reached the doorway.
You sat nearly hunched over the table, side profile on display, and he watched as you nearly punched yourself in the face to roughly clear a tear from your cheek.
Eddie had cried in front of you a couple times. He felt weak about it the first time, but you had reassured him that it was ok to feel however he felt when he was around you. The second time, he had teased you for being so nice about it while still refusing to do the same in front of him. You had shied away from the topic and deflected with a harsh joke that still made him laugh. The last thing he had expected to walk in on was you falling apart. When he heard the first sniffle, he finally moved from his stupor.
“Hey,” he spoke softly, but just loud enough for you to hear him before he could reach you. You jumped at the sound and quickly turned away from him to wipe your face and hide your puffy red eyes. His hand was on yours in a second, and he forced you to turn to face him again. “What’s going on? Are you ok?”
The concern in his eyes felt like it was burning you alive. You loved him, you really did, but his gaze on you was just too much. You couldn’t stand having another person perceive your pain.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you faked a smile, but you could tell he wasn’t buying it.
“Y/n,” he warned gently, softly begging you to spill.
“Really, Eds, I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep well last night. Sorry again for being late this morning.”
There was no way you could be this upset about that right? Eddie’s mind raced trying to figure out if that was a true confession. His heart ached either way.
“Don’t worry about it. Happens to the best of us.”
“Some of us more than others.”
His eyes finally brightened. He hadn’t heard you joke with him for half a week, so he was more than happy to hear one at his expense.
“Right,” he laughed, but soon a silence fell back over the two of you, “Would you wanna come over tonight? I’ve missed you the past couple days, my couch is just callin’ your name.”
“Oh, no,” you answered quickly, a little too fast for his liking, “I mean, I just have some stuff I need to get to.”
Your eyes darted away, doing everything you could to not look at him. He knew that was your tell, but it gave away more than your lie. Eddie finally figured out why you had been avoiding him. Something had happened, he wasn’t sure what, and you were hiding from him so you wouldn't unravel in his presence. He kicked himself for not seeing it earlier. He hated that he hadn’t said something sooner.
“You sure?” he prodded, “We can do anything you want. I’ll even let you rent a movie off of the forbidden list, my treat.”
“That’s sweet, Eds, but I really gotta get some stuff done around my place.”
“I could come keep you company.”
“No,” your eyes shot up to him in a brief second of panic that you quickly hid, “Maybe later this week.”
“Ok,” he gave you a small smile and stood back up from where he had kneeled next to you. “You let me know if you need any help with whatever you got going on. I’ll keep your favorite blanket warm at my place.”
You knew he knew. There was no lie that could get you out of the situation he had walked into. You were eternally grateful that he had the decency to pretend.
You did your best to be as normal as possible the next couple days, especially around Eddie. Your usual banter didn’t come natural to you anymore, you found yourself manually forcing yourself to keep up the facade of normalcy. Eddie seemed to buy it, and you were relieved that he hadn’t asked any further questions.
A week had passed since the worst day of your life, and Eddie invited you over again. He was much more persistent this time.
“Please, I’m dying of boredom without you coming over every night,” he pouted, a couple hours before you both were set to clock off.
“Eddie-”
“No, I know, you have stuff to get to. But you won’t let me come keep you company. And I mean it’s been like a week, how do you still have the cryptic shit to do that I cannot be made aware of? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re lying to me.”
You both knew that he knew you were lying. You shot him a knowing look, but that was the only acknowledgment you were capable of giving.
‘Fine,” you sighed, “But I can’t stay all night.”
“Deal,” he smiled. You were surprised that he didn’t celebrate the success of his persistence. He would usually make a grand show of victory over wearing you down. But this was gentle, the only show of victory was a grin and a warm gaze that could have made you blush.
You insisted on leaving work after Eddie, using the excuse of a few closing tasks that you were saving him from. In all reality, you just wanted a moment alone before you went to his trailer. He didn’t fight you on it.
You tried your best to mentally prepare yourself for the night ahead as you swept behind the counter. You tried to pre-plan every excuse in the book for any line of questioning as you checked all the locks. You practiced your breathing and your fake smiles in the rearview mirror as you drove to him.
He answered the door in his usual clothes. You knew him before you worked together, you were used to how he dressed outside of work. It was still a surprise at times to see just how different he looked when he wasn’t in his polo and slacks. Today, he wore a Motorhead t-shirt that you had found at a second hand store for him. He had asked your permission to cut the sleeves of it, and you were more than happy to say yes. Both because he was welcome to do as he pleased with any gift you gave him, and because the glimpse of his torso when you stood by his side was a very welcome sight.
“Hey,” he greeted with that same soft smile he had been giving you all afternoon, “I put some of my clothes in the bathroom for you to change into. I figured you’d wanna get out of your uniform.”
“Thanks,” you pushed through the door and toed off both of your shoes. You didn’t so much as look up before making a b-line to the bathroom. On the counter was a selection of a couple t-shirts, and the pajama pants that Eddie had purchased for you. He had claimed that they were for himself and he just bought the wrong size, but you knew the truth.
When you emerged from the bathroom, uniform folded neatly in hand, you took in the sight of his living room. To anyone else, it would have looked completely ordinary, but not to you. The blankets on the couch were folded and stacked on each arm rest. The only things resting on the coffee table were coasters that you weren’t sure had ever been used. Even the kitchen table had been cleared from the usual clutter.
“Did you clean?” Your voice tore Eddie’s attention from the television set from where he stood. He turned to look at you, and took a moment to gain composure. No matter how many times he saw you all cozy in your pajamas, especially knowing the shirts you wore were his, his brain could never get over how adorable you were.
“I’m allowed to tidy up.”
“Tidy? I didn’t know you knew the definition.”
“Shut up,” he smiled and took the few small steps towards you to sling an arm around your shoulders. He used it to lead you to the couch and sit you down. Before you could reach for it, he had grabbed your favorite blanket and spread it over your lap.
“You hungry?”
“Not really,” you nervously smiled up at him. It had been hours since lunch, and you knew that Eddie had watched you throw away most of your meal anyway. Your grief had grown too big to be contained in your heart, finding residence in your stomach and lungs. Breathing was difficult to even out, and eating had become near impossible.
“Ok,” he tried not to show just how worried you were making him, “Well I’m gonna have dinner in an hour or so. I’ll make some extra for you.”
It wasn’t a question, you knew if you had declined it would do no good. So you just smiled and nodded. He settled into the couch, right at your side. It was closer than he would usually sit, and it felt suffocating. You suspected he was trying to be there for you, trying to offer himself for comfort without having to ask, without having to speak at all. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t love how it was tearing your heart open.
“We gonna watch something?” you asked, words clawing at your throat in a way that nearly gave away how your stomach was churning.
“Yeah, got you one of those stupid romcoms,” he smiled, grabbing the remote to adjust the input.
“You didn’t have to dip into the forbidden list, we could have watched another horror movie.”
“It’s fine,” he chuckled.
“They’re forbidden for a reason. We both know you hate that shit.”
“It’s fine,” all humor left his demeanor as he turned to you, commanding your gaze. He was more than earnest, he was insistent. There wasn’t a rule or boundary he wouldn’t break just to make sure you were ok.
“Ok,” you shied away, pushing your body weight back into the plush of the couch. Part of you wished it would swallow you alive.
The movie was alright, but it was barely worth putting Eddie through watching his least favorite genre. You suspected he may have enjoyed it more than you though, so maybe it was just your mood.
“I’m fucking starving,” he spoke just as the credits began. He hopped off the couch and bound over to the kitchen, in much higher spirits than you would expect him to be. You offered to rewind the tape while he started to make his dinner.
“How does a sandwich sound?”
“I’m still really not that hungry, Eds,” you didn’t even turn to look at him, focus solely on the VCR.
“I’ll just make you one then,” he spoke matter of factly, yet again refusing to give you any room to deny him.
When you finished with the tape, Eddie was still rummaging through his fridge.
“How does either chicken salad or… grilled cheese sound,” he smiled shyly as he rose back to standing. He had forgotten to go grocery shopping, which was a very common occurrence for him.
“I’m assuming you won’t accept neither as an answer,” you teased leaning against the counter across from him.
“Chicken salad it is. Could probably both use the protein,” he spun on his heel and went to another cupboard to find his cans of chicken.
The sight of the can punched you in the gut. It was just chicken, a shitty form of it at that. But it was your cats favorite treat. She would come running every time you opened a can for yourself, and you would end up having to fight her off the counter to get away from it. And above all the other memories, came the realization. That had been her last meal.
Breath caught in your throat as he opened the can, and the smell hit you even from 10 feet away. You could feel your insides start to shake before it spread to your extremities. You tried to repeat a mantra of ‘not now’ to yourself as you focused on keeping your composure. Your jaw was the last part of you to begin trembling, your last hope of holding it together.
You were too focused on trying not to fall apart in Eddie’s kitchen to see that he had turned towards you, or to hear him ask if you wanted onion or not. When he looked at you, he could see how close you were to breaking, and it caught him completely off guard. He knew something was going on, but you were fine 2 seconds ago. To him, there was nothing that could have happened to warrant your reaction.
“Y/n?” he asked, putting the can back down on the counter. He watched as your eyes followed it, but you didn’t acknowledge him or his questions. “Hey, what’s going on?” He finally reached you, and gently brought one hand to your elbow, hoping to break your stupor. You jumped slightly, barely processing how he was suddenly so close to you. It took a second for your brain to catch up and understand what he had said.
“Uh, nothing. Sorry, just zoning out,” your voice cracked, but beside that, there was no reason to not believe you.
Eddie thought back to the other time he saw you this upset, the first time he had ever seen you cry. It had been on your lunch break. Putting 2 and 2 together, he assumed this had to be some kind of food issue, which broke his heart.
“If you really don’t want a sandwich I can make you a snack instead,” he offered, hoping to give you space to minimize your discomfort. But there was no way you were going to leave that night without him having fed you.
“N-no, it’s ok,” you began to stumble over your words, brain moving too fast for your mouth to keep up, “I, uhm, I think I-I just need to sit down.” You moved before he could help you, knees already beginning to give out.
Something in you broke, the last functioning synapse that was allowing you to will yourself together finally failed. You forgot that the goal was to not fall apart in front of Eddie, the goal was suddenly to find anything to make you feel better, anything that would take away the ache in your chest.
“Sweetheart,” he had followed you to the kitchen table, kneeling in front of you, “Please talk to me. Why do you seem so afraid of the chicken?”
You looked like a deer in headlights, and your response came slowly. You had to manually process each word, repeating in your head over and over until the definitions set in. “I’m not scared, I’m sorry,” you barely reassured him, beginning words before you had finished the ones before.
“You sound pretty scared to me. Please, just fill me in on what’s going on. I just want to help, yeah?”
“Can we have something else? I’m sorry, I know you just opened the can, but I don’t want the chicken,” with the last word, you finally snapped, tears suddenly falling, sobs suddenly wracking through you, “Please I’ll eat anything else, just don't make me have the chicken.”
“Ok,” Eddie panicked, but quickly pulled you as close as he could, “Yeah, no big deal. Don’t worry. No need to cry.” He held you tighter as your sobs grew louder. He began to realize that this was so much more than what he had suspected. This wasn’t an insecurity, this wasn’t a budding disorder. This was something that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend without getting just a little more information from you.
But for now all he could do was try to comfort you.
He began to lightly comb his fingers through your hair, offering a small ‘it’s ok’ every few seconds.
As your sobs subsided into soft cries and sniffles, and your breath began to even back to normal, Eddie finally pulled back to take a look at you. He steadied you with his hands, each one gripping an arm to keep you upright but also to keep you from shying away from him.
“Can you please tell me what’s going on,” he pleaded as he brought up one hand to wipe a tear away before gripping your arm again, “You’ve been off all week, and I’ve tried to give you space, to let whatever it was pass. But this is obviously something that isn’t just going to pass, so please let me help you. Or at least just let me listen”
“I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it,” you avoided his gaze completely. You were already mortified over crying in front of him, you didn’t need to add to the humiliation of being known.
“I’m sorry, but I think we’re beyond that. We don’t have to talk about it at length, but you’re scaring me, you gotta at least just tell me what’s going on.”
Something about hearing him admit his worry for you made your heart swell, not quite enough to open up completely, but just enough to force yourself to speak.
“My cat died.” It was a simple sentence, and you offered no other explanation. The silence in the kitchen was deafening. Though it only lasted a moment, it felt like agony waiting for Eddie to laugh at you for being so devastated, especially over something others may see as small.
“Y/c/n?”
“Yeah,” your voice broke again, and you tried your best to pull away, to hide from him. His grip on your arms was unrelenting, and it only grew tighter as you tried to squirm.
“I-I know she was just a cat,” you quickly tried to explain, but your tears were free flowing again, “I know I sound stupid, and that you were probably worried for nothing. I’m sorry-”
“No, absolutely not,” he dipped his head down to catch your eye, but you couldn't maintain the contact, “I know she was everything to you. You have nothing to apologize for, you have every right to be upset.” His firm grip on your arms loosened and he slid his hands to your back. He pulled you slowly towards him so he could hold you against his chest again, in a tight embrace. “I just don’t get why you couldn’t have told me sooner.”
“I just,” you sniffled and tried to take a deep breath to continue, “I can’t think about it without this happening. I feel so stupid. I don’t want to be like this in front of you.”
“Hey,” he pulled away to guide your chin to look straight at him, not allowing you to look away anymore, “Don’t say that. You’re not stupid, you’re grieving. And do you remember what you told me the first time I cried in front of you?”
“No.”
“You told me that it was ok to feel however I felt in front of you. No matter what it was, I never had to hide it from you. And that goes both ways.”
“But Ed-”
“No,” he stopped you with a strict look in his eyes, “If it applies to me it applies to you. If you really don’t want to talk about it, that’s your choice, but I don’t want you to hide from me like that ever again. You got that?”
You sniffled again, but nodded.
“Good,” he let out a relieved sigh, glad he didn’t have to fight you further, “Come here.” He grabbed your hand to pull you up out of the chair, and enveloped you into another tight hug. You both lightly swayed like that for a moment.
“Can I ask one thing?” he asked, arms still tightly wrapped around you.
“Sure.”
“Why did the chicken salad set you off?”
“Oh, uhm…” you tried to fight your brain to allow yourself to open up, and Eddie waited patiently, “It was her favorite. And it was the last thing I fed her before…” You didn’t have to finish your sentence.
“Got it. I’m sorry,” he looked down to press a kiss to the top of your head. It was a gesture he had only done a couple times, usually when he was drunk or very sleepy, but it never failed to make your heart skip a beat.
“It’s fine, it’s not like you knew.”
When you finally pulled away, you felt incredibly exposed. Eddie didn't look at you any differently though, which helped your nerves subside.
“We’re not going to eat this anyway, would it be dumb to put it outside for the park strays? Like in her honor?”
You began to cry again, the dam already having broken, but this time was different. You nodded quickly, before Eddie could begin to worry he had upset you. “That would be really nice.”
He smiled and grabbed the can before dragging you outside with him. The two of you walked to the picnic table sitting in a small clearing a few hundred feet away. He handed the can to you to set down on the table. Just as you did, a small stray cat came out of the woods, sniffing the air. She came towards you, and with full confidence went straight for the can.
The two of you watched the small creature eat from the can until she was satisfied. She gave you a small meow before returning to the forest, as if she was thanking you for the meal.
You smiled over at Eddie as the cat disappeared, and realized that while you had been watching her eat, he had been looking at you.
“Stop looking at me,” you chuckled and banged your shoulder into his, “You’re going to give me a complex.”
“Sorry, baby, you’re just beautiful.”
“What did you just call me?” you furrowed your brow at him.
“Beautiful? Was that too much?”
“No, not that.” He had called you beautiful before, usually in teasing situations, not in earnest. But that wasn’t the word that had caught your attention. He had to think back to his sentence, and his cheeks turned red in realization.
“Baby? Yeah, sorry, bad timing.”
“Bad timing for what?”
“I think you know,” he gave you a half hearted smile.
“Oh, yeah maybe not,” you chuckled softly, “Give me a week and I probably wouldn’t say no.”
He hadn’t been propositioning you, he had no intention of asking you to be his girlfriend. Not out of lack of interest, he had plenty of that. He had assumed you thought you were better off as friends, and he had no interest in losing that. But after hearing that, he lost all caution.
“O-ok,” his blush only grew darker, “I’ll still be right here until then though, alright?” His hand reached out for yours and grabbed it gently, not wanting to startle you away. But you didn’t pull back, you matched his grip.
“Alright,” you smiled and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.
You rested your head on his shoulder, and he rested his atop yours. You sat like that for a while, listening to the crickets and watching the stars, only interrupting the calm silence with the occasional thought or memory that you finally allowed to be spoken aloud to another soul.
Summary: Accidents happen. Sometimes they’re harmless, sometimes they change the entire trajectory of your life. But here you are, two years later, back in Hawkins and ready to finally share what you’ve had to keep to yourself with the man who made it happen.
cw: accidental pregnancy, unintentional keeping secret of a pregnancy, starts between the epilogue of season 5, dad!steve harrington x mom!reader, slow burn, more to come as the story progresses.
Now cross posted to ao3!
Prologue. First Date(Maybe it was fate)
i. After the smoke clears.
ii. It doesn’t take much.
iii. Meet the family.
iv. Right and Wrong.
v. Be Mine.
vi. Near Mrs.
vii. What is a family? (coming soon…)
viii. Liar (It takes one to know one) (coming soon…)
ix. Practicing what you preach. (coming soon…)
x. Can’t win them all. (coming soon…)
xi. Close Proximity. (coming soon…)
xii. Oh, this is how it’s supposed to be. (coming soon…)
xiii. Just one more, because I love you: the Epilogue. (coming soon…)
Did some outlining, and I have come up with this for the chapter list as of now. Things may change but I think this will be fairly accurate going forward!
summary eddie knows just how to fuck you to have you screaming his name (just pure smut i’m so sorry).
warnings minors shoo! dirty talk, slightly? dom!eddie, use of nicknames (sweetheart, angel, baby) (no use of y/n), porn with no plot, penetrative sex, no use of protection. written in like… an hour? if i’ve missed anything please let me know!
Eddie Munson will spends hours with you underneath him. He’ll kiss you — all messy lips clashing and breathless moans — until your whole body feels like it’s on fire. And only when you’re begging him to just do something, does he finally start touching you. But not there — not where you need him, not yet anyway.
He’ll kiss your neck until your fingers are tangled in his hair and your thighs are wrapped around his waist; keeping his hips pressed against yours — but he still won’t move, won’t do what he knows you need. Eddie lives off of your desperate whimpers and the way you moan his name when he’s all you can focus on.
And tonight is no different. He’s had you underneath him all evening. Lay on his bed, the pillow he brought specially for you underneath your head as he kisses you like he’s been waiting for you for years. The orange light from the trailer park hits the walls of his bedroom, lightning up the both of you just enough for you to be able to see each other when you pulled away for a reluctant breath.
Some discarded film lulls on in the background, voices muffled through the closed door of his room. You lasted maybe (optimistically) about five minutes in the lounge tonight before you climbed into Eddie’s lap and kissed him as if him not kissing you yet was a crime of the highest degree.
After that you don’t quite remember what happened. But it was a mixture of Eddie carrying you to his room, his lips never once leaving yours, and him throwing off his top and yours within a second of each other.
Now you couldn’t even guess how long you’ve been laid here. Eddie whispering how good you were being as he kissed you senseless and let his hands roam across your flushed skin.
“What do you need, huh?” as he’s kissing along your collar bone and he rolls his hips against yours and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan considering he’s really done nothing yet. He’ll pull back from kissing you just to tell you “talk to me sweetheart or you get nothing” but Eddie knows you couldn’t string a sentence together if you tried.
You’re so fucked out from just him that you can’t even look at him — “baby — hey, hey. Look at me” and he’s turning your face to him and letting his hand slide down to your neck because he knows that when he does that you’re putty in his hands. “Come on, be a good girl and tell me what you need, yeah? It’s not hard angel” and Jesus fucking Christ the way he sounds as he’s talking to you should be illegal.
“Eddie, please—“
“That’s me sweetheart but I need more than that.” Eddie leans back down and kisses along the love bird that have already turned a deep shade of purple, his lips against your bruised skin a sharp contrast to the way he rolls his hips against yours. It’s the most he’s given you all night and you’d happily stay like this forever.
“Please — touch me, Ed’s” that name on your lips, all high-pitched and whiny, is his weakness and you both know it. His hips falter and for a second, only a split second, you think he might cave and give you what you’ve been begging for.
But Eddie’s not that easily persuaded. But fucking hell if you don’t test him—
“I am, baby. I’m touching you. Fuck — you’re pure sin, you know that?” Your hips rolling up to meet his and your fingers pulling at his hair is enough to break his demeanour for a second. He stares down at you and you’re all heavy breaths, swollen lips and mascara smudged under your eyes.
Fuck— Eddie dreamt of this moment too many times to count when you were friends, imaging how you’d sound coming undone for him, his name on your lips as you trusted him with the most sacred parts of yourself.
“Eddie just— fuck, please fuck me. I need you so bad please Ed’s”
“Okay, okay sweetheart. I’ve got you, hm? Gonna be good f’me and lift your hips baby?
And of course, you are. Because who the fuck wouldn’t when Eddie Munson is above you, his hair wild around his face with his necklace dangling over you looking like everything you were ever warned against,
You lift your hips and he slides a pillow under them, pushing up your skirt and kissing your thigh and down your legs as he pulled off your underwear. He catches you shivering at the anticipation and he can’t help the smile that crosses his face — “Jesus baby, I really did a number on you, huh? So wet for me and I’ve not even touched you yet”
“Ed’s you’ve been teasing me all night” and as much as you try you still can’t sound anything other than entirely fucked out already.
“Don’t act like you don’t love it, hm?” You couldn’t figure out if it was the best or worst thing you ever did, telling him how hot he was to you when he got condescending when he was fucking you. He was never normally like that — he was all honeyed words and sweet touches — but one day he spoke in a different voice. You couldn’t explain it, he didn’t even that he had done it, but the way you reacted made him vow to do it every time from then on.
“Although—“ Eddie starts as he’s undoing his belt and taking his jeans off “I don’t really need to do much, hm? What was it you said the other day? Just thinking of me gets you wet, right baby?” Eddie leant back down over you, lining up at your entrance and kissing your shoulder so gently — in a way that contrasted so sharply with the way he was talking to you.
“Eddie that was a— fucking, oh my god — that was a private conversation—“ you cut yourself off with the most pornographic moan you’d ever heard yourself make (huh, who knew you could even make that sound?) as Eddie pushed himself into you, his hips finally meeting yours.
Eddie’s forehead fell to meet yours, his eyes screwed shut as he adjusted to the feel of you.
“Baby girl, come on now you were on the phone in my room and I was in the bathroom, you think I can’t hear that shit?” Eddie let a smirk grow across his face as your face flushed red at the thought of him hearing you say that. It’s not like it’s not true but he definitely didn’t need that ego boost.
“Don’t get cocky Munson—“ you breathed out, your eyes meeting his as he watched you with the same old intensity he did everytime you had sex. The only thing that mattered to him when you were underneath him was how good he was making you feel.
“Oh? Oh okay, I shouldn’t get cocky?” The tone of Eddie’s voice told you you’d just made a mistake.
Eddie pulled all the way out of you only to push back in and hit right where it drove you crazy, your head falling back and your nails digging into his back.
Eddie took your leg and moved it higher up so he was hitting at an even deeper angle that had you seeing stars and praying to any god you think of.
“Oh— god, fuck” your voice didn’t even sound like your own as you babbled out any words you could possibly think of as Eddie fucked you like it was second nature to him. Like he knew exactly how to move to make you lose all sense of yourself. Pulling moan after moan from your lips as you held onto him like a lifeline.
“That’s my girl, keep making those pretty noises for me” Eddie moaned out, groaning each time you squeezed around him. He kept fucking you through your breathless whimpers and let you pull him down into a desperate kiss. Your tongues meeting messily as he tightened his hold on your thigh. Adjusting himself to let his cock hit right where you needed him.
“I’m gonna come— Eddie, Jesus”
“Yeah? Come on then angel, let go for me.”
Eddie was fucking you so deeply that you felt him in places you weren’t even sure was possible. You could barely even open your eyes but Eddie kept you grounded with the weight of him above you.
Eddie moved his hand down, knowing exactly what would tip you over the edge. His fingers reached down to find your clit and rub circles right where he knew he would have you begging both God and him.
“Come on baby, come round my cock, huh? Wanna feel you let go f’me” Eddie sounded entirely wrecked himself, but he’d be damned if came before his girl had.
That familiar wash of feelings came over you, your legs shaking and head turning to hide your face in your pillow as your orgasm washed over you. All-consuming. You held on tighter to Eddie, he buried his head in your neck as he came almost immediately after you.
You’re not sure how much time has passed but suddenly you came back into your own body and you felt yourself entirely consumed by Eddie. His head still resting in your neck, his hot breath hitting your collarbone and his hand running up and down the side of your body.
You tightened your legs around him, not willing to let him go anywhere just yet.
Eddie finally lifted his head and met your gaze “hey sweetheart—“ his soft voice hitting you like a tonne of bricks. You felt yourself tighten around him and Eddie couldn’t help the noise left him at the feeling— “Jesus, fuck angel, you tryna make me faint or something?” Eddie laughed as a smile graced your face.
This might be his favourite part. The after.
Eddie tried to move but you tightened your legs around him and made an inadvertent whine at the sensation.
“Hey, what’s wrong? You okay, baby? You’re not hurt or anything, are you—“
“Eddie, I’m okay! Just, I dunno, can you— can we stay like this for a minute?”
Eddie was sure this was heaven. It must be. There was no other explanation.
“Yeah sweetheart. We can stay like this.”
Eddie pushed your hair off your face, letting himself settle back down against you. Kissing you so gently you felt as though the idea of ever moving from this position was unthinkable. Before either of you moved again Eddie had pulled yet another orgasm from you, his name falling from your lips as you felt heat rush to your cheeks. Eddie calling you his good girl as you came around his fingers.
Eddie didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this but fuck he loved you.
summary. eddie thought he was doing the right thing separating from you, for your own sake and image. he quickly realizes how wrong he was.
content warnings. angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending (cause of course it is), unestablished relationship, friends to lovers, eds calling you ‘sweetheart’, kiss and make up :)
word count. 2944
a/n. yes this is my take on the foo fighters song, sue me
———
you sitting in eddie's passenger seat was always an unusual sight. the softness in your face, the delicate sound of your voice somehow breaking through the loud metal music he had on, your laugh that he somehow always managed to pull from you was unbelievably out of place here, with him. he marveled often over how this was his reality, how you decided to stick around for as long as you had. he found himself thanking gods he didn't even believe in that he was given the opportunity to live this life with you by his side, as his friend. today was no different.
the soft smile on your face as you sat beside him was all thanks to him. he'd cracked some joke about pedestrians, who seemed to leave their heads behind them as they cross the road blindly. his mumbled complaints didn't go unheard from you, they hardly did. you were thankful they didn't, too, it always made your mood a little better. you smile distracted him, just long enough for him to miss what was unfolding outside his car, engine rumbling as it idles at a red light. four large, raw eggs crash against your window, breaking upon impact. both of your heads whipped around to see the sight beside you, catching eye of a few basketball players as the light turns green.
"freaks!" you heard one of them yell as you drive off.
"dickheads," you mumble back, eyes rolling as you shake your head. you turn slightly to eddie as you speak some more. "they did that to my car a few days ago while i was driving home from work."
you hardly caught the way eddie's jaw clenched at your words. his eyes, rather than trailing back over to you, stayed glued on the road. sure, he could make it out to seem like he was pulling his focus there, watching out for other mindless pedestrians that seemed rampant in this town. but the real reason? he couldn't bear looking at you, not now. not when guilt was burning in the back of his throat, restricting in anger. self loathing, really, for even getting you in this situation to begin with.
he knew from the start that your reputation would crumble the moment your peers caught onto your friendship. he was convinced everything he touched was destined to fall into a pile of nothing with him. it started with his father, always degrading him, putting the blame on such a young boy for his own wrongdoings. maybe it wouldn't have stuck around for so long if everyone didn't continue to prove al's point. if eddie didn't keep proving his point. for whatever reason, that didn't stop him from befriending you, from letting you drag him around happily by your side to rather public plans. from selfishly falling in love with you.
he was uncharacteristically quiet the rest of the drive back home. it wasn't peculiar for him to be so deep in thought around you. the only difference was the lack of translating, the loud music down at a quiet decibel. his jaw stayed clenched, his breathing stayed shallow. light brown eyes turned dark, and if the light were to catch them right, you could almost describe them as misty.
"it's no biggie," you whisper, eyes searching his face worriedly. you could feel him overthinking the eggs. "easy clean, really! my car needed a good wash anyways."
"that doesn't make it any better," he grumbles. "what a joke."
"would calling it a yolk make you feel any better?" you ask with a growing grin. it dropped the moment you noticed he wasn't amused. he always entertained your corniness. he must've really taken this to heart. when he pulled up to your house, he gave you a small goodbye and a weak attempt of a hug, before you slid out his passenger seat. this gave him the time to think things through, truly this time.
eddie couldn't bear the idea of letting you go through this. he could take it, the degradation and the embarrassment, even if he claimed to be thick skinned. it was still shameful occasionally living up to peoples low expectations of him, despite being used to it. despite knowing his own growth. he didn't want to drag you down on the perpetual decline he seemed to be on, endless and torturous. no amount of rough exteriors and venomous words could shield you both from the judgement of everyone else.
that's how you found yourself hopelessly waiting for eddie the next morning, coat wrapped tight around your body, listening expectantly to the rumbling of his van. you realized, ten minutes after he promised he'd be there, that he wasn't showing up. you went inside, grabbed your keys, and made your way to work all by yourself. you didn't need him to take you to work, you were more than capable of driving yourself. what you couldn't do was shove away the disappointment of being stood up out of the blue.
you worked your shift with a sour taste in your mouth. it wasn't like eddie to do this to you. if there wasn't a call informing you of his absence beforehand, there was always an apology halfway through your day. while that hardly happened, he always provided an explanation. going an entire day without any word from him was odd. your coworkers even noticed the frown that didn't seem to leave your face all day. after clocking out, you were on a mission to head home and call him, hoping it was simply just a mix-up. you shoved away the worry that something had happened to him, or something had happened between you two. had you said something wrong the day before?
"hello?" a deep, gravely voice answered eddie's landline. you recognized quickly who it was.
"hey wayne," you greeted, announcing who you were right afterwards.
"hey, kiddo, good to hear from you," wayne says. "if you're looking for eddie, he's not home. something about needing some air. i'll let him know you called."
"thank you," you tell him, carrying on a short conversation with him, before hanging up the phone.
it took two days before you heard anything from him, and it was because of your doing. after another, more worried, call, you came to the decision to corner eddie. going awol was not something he did, not without a reason. it was after your morning shift, 2 pm, and he was surely home. saturdays before band practice, he normally tucked himself inside his room, focusing on planning out new campaign ideas. he hardly changed that routine of his. only on the rare occasion you could coax him out for lunch would he be found elsewhere. you jogged from your car to the door of his trailer in the pouring rain before knocking a little frantically.
he wearily peeked out the door a minute later, glaring down at you and your wet form. his jaw clenched the moment his eyes met yours. you gave him a small, worried smile, before you spoke to him. his silence was deafening through the sound of water hitting metal.
“hey, eds,” you start cautiously, peering inside the warm, dry trailer you loved visiting. “can i come in?”
“shouldn’t be here,” he mumbled, body mostly hidden behind the door. you could feel heat rise through your neck, prickling up to your ears in embarrassment you never felt around him.
“is it not a good time?” you question. your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “i would’ve called but i’ve already tried twice, i couldn’t get ahold of you.”
“it’s for a good reason, sweetheart,” he said bitterly. a nickname he once gave you endearingly now made you feel small. your clenched at the sound of him using it so coldly. “better get out of here. wouldn’t want you to get into anymore trouble.”
“don’t be like that,” you bite, face twisting into frustration. “i signed up for whatever bullshit those idiots decide to do to me the moment i became friends with you.”
“yeah, well, you’re better off not dealing with it at all,” he bit back.
with that, he shut the door right in your face, leaving you out in the cold rain. you turned on your heels and quickly stomped back to your car. you fought the tears prickling in your eyes and the tightness gripping at your chest. you would do anything if it meant staying by eddie’s side. that, however, wasn’t plausible if he didn’t want you to stay. you weren’t going to linger where you weren’t wanted. especially not if it would prolong this gut-wrenching feeling deep inside of you.
you didn’t try to call. you didn’t show back up at his house or any of the shows his band had at the hideout. you didn’t even run into him at work, and he frequented the record store. you figured he came in on your days off in attempts to avoid you. and, as much as it broke your heart not seeing him, you weren’t going to push. if telling you to stay away wasn’t enough, slamming the door in your face made everything clear.
"i'm pretty sure he, like, hates me now," you tell steve one night, the scent of alcohol clinging to you.
it'd been nearly a month after your falling out with eddie, and it was evident to everyone something had happened. he was inquiring about eddie's whereabouts, his lack of presence rather alarming. he was always tagging along with you to these parties. you missed the way steve shared a glance with robin, who seemed just as perplexed as he was.
"I'm sure he doesn't hate you," robin speaks up, speech slurred just a little.
"how else would you explain it?"
"the dudes an idiot," steve insisted. "i'm sure it's something stupid, he'll get over himself."
you found yourself wallowing one late night at the diner you two always frequented. even three months after your friendship ended, you still couldn’t help but think about him. how could you not when things ended so abruptly? it didn’t quite help you were still in love with him, though you figured it would hurt regardless. maybe it was worse now that you were mourning the distant hope that things would bloom into romance. that was farther gone than your friendship will ever be.
the bell attached to the door rang through the diner, thouggh you didn’t bother to look up from your plate. you stayed tucked inside the corner of the booth, picking at the fries the you ordered extra of. you never ate them all, though you always made sure you got more, anyways. eddie always liked to pick some off your plate, even if he had his own to nibble. you lifted your head only when you heard his familiar voice ring through the diner.
your eyes drifted over to him as he sat at the stools, hardly hearing as he ordered a coffee. he only ever ordered coffee when he was tired. you wondered what had him so busy. the idea that it could be someone else made you sick. you didn’t get to sit in your overwhelming jealousy for long. the server pointed over right at you as he said something to eddie. your eyes fell back down to your plate, wide and panicked as you thought of what to do. you could sit and let him stare, allowing the tension to rise inside the restaurant for everyone to feel, or you could pay and storm out, saving yourself the misery of being here. after the long week you had, the last thing you wanted was confrontation. especially confrontation with him. his heavy boots echoed against the floor before you could make your decision.
“hey,” eddie greets awkwardly, standing a foot away from your table.
“hi,” you say plainly. you didn’t bother to look up at him. you heard him take a deep breath in, his leather jacket rustling slightly as he crosses his arms.
“it’s okay if you want me to leave you alone.”
“i think you’re better off if you do.”
he cringes at your words - almost a flinch -, remembering back to the last conversation he had with you. his teeth clench down on his cheek as he thought, eyes not leaving you as you fumble with a fry. he still thought you looked beautiful, even with a slight scowl on your face.
“i just want to talk,” he says, despite his previous statement. a complete contradiction, like most other things he does.
you scoffed as you finally look up at him. he looked so small standing there, despite being feet above you. his large brown eyes seemed bigger than usual. you found yourself pitying him, though you promised yourself you wouldn’t. it was his doing that put you in the position you were in. still, he had ahold of your heart, and there wasn’t much you could do about it, even now. you blinked up at him a few times, just enough to collect your thoughts. pushing away your plate, you get up with your wallet, making your way towards the server.
“you had your chance to talk months ago and you shut me out,” you tell him, giving the server a soft smile as you hand her cash for your meal. “thank you, keep the change.”
you walked right passed eddie as you made your way towards the door, shoulder just brushing his. you folded your arms against your chest as you pushed out the diner. his footsteps followed behind you quickly, trailing after you desperately. just your luck, just moments after you stepped out, rain started to sprinkle down onto you. of course the day you see him again. of course the day you walked. you started your way towards your house with a slight shiver.
“i’m ready to talk now,” he says as he continues to follow you. “are you walking out of spite?”
“no, i didn’t bring my car,” you tell him, looking over you shoulder just briefly. his eyes were still wide and doe-like. “trust me, i wish i did. easy escape from whatever the hell this is.”
“can you just hold on a minute? please?” he begged as you continued on.
when you kept walking, he called your name out once, before gripping your elbow. you whipped around to look at him, feet stopping in its tracks. he moved to stand right in front of you. you noticed then how tired he looked. you wondered if he was just as torn up as you were about this whole thing. you stared at him expectantly, and he soon caught on that you were waiting. the rain began to fall down a bit harder, dampening your skin and your clothes.
“i messed up, bad.”
“yeah,” you scoffed, eyes boring into him. his shoulders slumped under your gaze.
“i can’t stand seeing you be made fun of. it’s my fault, and you know it is. we both know i was dragging you down. i couldn’t take the guilt anymore,” he rambled, hand not leaving you elbow. you didn’t bother to move it. “but the guilt of pushing you away like that is worse. i hurt you, i know that, and you deserve better than to be disregarded. you deserve better than me.”
“that doesn’t matter,” you croak out, eyes welling up with tears again, just like the night at his trailer. “none of it does. i don’t want anyone else, eddie, just you. i would go through anything if it meant i could keep you around.”
you didn’t care about the implications of your words. you just cared about making sure he heard and understood you. you couldn’t bear being away from him for another second. eddie tugged you into a hug without a word. his arms wrapped around you torso and kept you secured to his, face finding comfort in your shoulder. the breath of relief you let out could be heard from miles away as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. you gripped onto him tight, like he’d slip away from you again. the wet leather against your skin grounded you, almost as much as his hand that soothed your back, trailing up and down slowly. you let a few tears slip from your eyes, sniffling against his warmth.
when you pulled away, eyes watering and your lower lip trembling, he didn’t dare to move his hands away. not now that he had you secured against him. there were tears in his eyes you’ve hardly seen. you brought a soft knuckle up to his cheek to wipe them away, though rain still clung to your skin. you pushed away his hair to get a proper look at him.
“that was the worst three month of my life, sweetheart,” he shook his head as he spoke softly.
not only had he kept track, your nickname was back in the same soft tone as before. you brought your other hand down to his chest, poking a finger at it as you look up at him. your eyes softened up, and he noticed, his face visibly relieved.
“that’s on you, mister,” you tell him, that pretty smile on your back on your face.
“it won’t happen again. promise.”
your hand gripped his shirt just slightly, enough to pull him a little closer to you. with faces just inches apart, your lips hovered, waiting for a sign to keep going. the sign stumbled right where you wanted it most. his lips met yours in a careful kiss, capturing this moment for all of eternity. his guilt wasn’t so overwhelming now.
This was filmed at the Sheldrick Wildlife Trust, which rescues, rehabilitates, and releases orphaned elephants in Kenya (among other conservation efforts). Charity Navigator has given it a 4/4 star rating, and you can make donations here or “adopt” a baby elephant here.
The inherent political statement of only speaking in spanish. Of introducing himself by his legal name. Of having most, if not all (don't wanna assume) his background dancers be visibly latinos. Of showing glimpses into the latino experience with such love and care and domesticity (we all laughed at the kid sleeping in the chairs lol), and including ALL latino countries. "The only thing stronger than hate is love." I suppose Joy is all a part of the fight, isn't it?
blakekathryn
titsay
areudirty
jacobvanloon
kaledo-art
turnnoffyourmind
yousharknotpass
prguitarman
