Latest Posts by spookyreads - Page 8

Teenage Dirtbag

Pairing: Eddie Munson x short, plus-sized, girly-ish, female reader.

WC: ~9K

Warnings: cursing, eddie being a lil bit of a horndog, unrequited but not unrequited love

A/N: This song screamed Eddie Munson to me and I had to write it, I don't know what to say for myself lmao I thought it was going to be 1K at most. Welp.

Masterlist || AO3

Eddie Munson knew he wasn’t the smartest person in town. He was far from the dumbest, Jason Carver took that title by a landslide.

In fact, Eddie would dare to say he was actually pretty intelligent. He wasn’t book smart, not with subjects he didn’t give a shit about, but he had common sense. Which, clearly, wasn’t so common – especially in Hawkins.

However, even Eddie had to admit that he was the dumbest son of a bitch on this planet sometimes.

The primary example was when he managed to fall in love with you, his English tutor. 

After Eddie had bombed the first major test – on his second go at his senior year – his teacher had assigned him a mandatory tutor.

“I know you think I don’t like you,” Ms. O'Donnell said, her sharp eyes softening when Eddie snorted, “but I want you to succeed. You’re smarter than you let on and I can see that.”

“Don’t feel bad. All teachers hate me,” Eddie joked, a thread of truth to it.

“Well not me,” she said, “and to prove it to you – I’m going to assign you a tutor.”

What? “Aw, come on,” Eddie groaned, “I’ll do better on the next one!”

Ms. O’Donnell rolled her eyes. “That’s what you said all last year. I was the one who signed off on you using my classroom for Hellfire Club you know. It’s been four years and I’ve seen some of the things you come up with. You’re good at writing, Mr. Munson. You just need to apply yourself.”

Wait, she knew about some of his campaigns? “Which I’ll do from now on!” The comical expression on her face indicated that Eddie was not getting through to her.

“Trust me,” she said, “she took my advanced placement course as a sophomore. She’s a senior, like you, and she’s willing to do it as a favor to me.”

“Is this mandatory?” Eddie winced when his teacher’s sharp gaze returned.

“Yes,” she said, her expression softening when Eddie slumped. “I’ll make you a deal, just let her tutor you for the next quiz. If you get higher than a C, with genuine effort, you can opt out.”

“Deal,” Eddie sighed.

And now here he was, four months later and definitely more than one aced quiz later, with you in your first sundress of the season. Eddie had been waiting for you at the library, the same table in the back – hidden behind the cookbook shelves – when you walked in. The thin straps drew his attention first, his eyes trailing down to the neckline which exposed the swell of your breasts in a way that had Eddie shifting nervously in his seat.

You’d apologized, sitting down hastily, your breath coming out in quick pants. Your car hadn’t started this morning so you had to ask Dustin, your neighbor, to borrow his bike to get here.

The image of you biking in that dress was something that he didn’t know he needed.

Like always, you pulled out your battered copy of The Great Gatsby and got to work. Eddie had read the book, you’d been right – he did like it – but spent most of the first hour watching you explain the chapters he’d been assigned.

There was just something about the way your eyes lit up when you started rambling about literary terms and characterization. You tended to speak with your hands, cherry-colored nails flying as you waved a hand in the air.

Oh, you were saying his name. “Are you listening Eddie?” You asked, eyes shooting him a knowing look.

“Shortcake, I always listen to every word you say,” Eddie joked, winking. A flustered expression overtook your face and Eddie watched your fingers come up to your hair, a sure sign that his comment had hit. He hated the rush of serotonin that gave him.

See? Complete dumbass behavior.

“Pay attention, you have a quiz next week and then we start working on your final paper,” you said, tapping his hand softly. The warmth of your skin sent an electric current up his arm and straight to his chest. “Here, I brought an outline of what I thought would be good topics for you to choose from. I’m partial to Shakespeare – oh don’t give me that look – but I listed other options too. Let me see if they finally got that book that I was looking for.”

Eddie nodded and failed to avert his eyes as you walked away. Your hips swayed as the black patterned dress rippled with your movement.

It wasn’t his fault, not really. Eddie glanced at the paper you’d handed him, your handwriting neat and precise. He’d been dreading meeting you when Ms. O’Donnell had mentioned your name. You weren’t a cheerleader but you basically friends with the whole squad. He’d seen you at parties when he was selling, you always seemed nice but Eddie knew from experience that the popular crowd were just vultures waiting for a sign of weakness. Eddie wasn’t going to be stupid enough to expose any.

“Oh, hey, Lucas!” Your voice carried from a few shelves away. Eddie straightened. “I haven’t seen you since the last campaign!”

Eddie couldn’t hear what Lucas answered but your quiet laughter sent the equally stupid butterflies in his ribcage into chaos. Eddie fought a groan and pinched the bridge of his nose. Honestly, he could hardly be at fault when you had the audacity to have a laugh as cute as that.

“Did you look over the outline? Oh, are you okay?” You asked, eyes pinched in concern. Eddie shook his head, his hair settling around his shoulders.

“I’m fine, just a little tired,” he lied. “Was that Sinclair I heard?”

You beamed at him and Eddie swore he felt his heart stop in his chest. Jesus H. Christ, he was going to send you the bill when you sent him to the ER. “It was! I can’t believe he’s taller than me now,” you said, wrinkling your nose when Eddie laughed, “oh shut up. I meant, I used to babysit them. They were all little munchkins a few minutes ago. Now they’re freshman. That’s wild.”

“Calm down there, grandma,” Eddie retorted as you rolled your eyes, “besides, it’s not exactly hard to be taller than you nowadays shortcake.”

Eddie could tell you were trying your best to bite back a grin. “You know, I’m the one who brought your grade up from a F to a B minus, you should be nicer to me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I offend you your highness?” Eddie swooned, hands on chest, as he leaned back in his chair. “How can I ever thank you for saving me?”

“By passing your last quiz of the year,” you said dryly, eyes lighting up, “and maybe picking Macbeth for your final essay.”

Eddie snorted. “Not likely.”

“And that’s how you treat your hero?” You asked him, batting your eyelashes.

Fuck, those should come with a goddamn warning.

“How about I make you a mixtape?” Eddie joked, chewing at the end of his pen and giving your outline another look.

Your face, however, completely lit up. “Deal!”

“What?” Eddie stammered, dropping the pen from his mouth.

“No take-backs Munson!” You laughed, shrinking when the librarian shot you a look. Eddie huffed a laugh at your contrite expression and watched you turn back to him. “You get a passing grade on these last two assignments and you make me a mixtape as a physical form of your eternal gratitude.”

“Shortcake, I don’t think we have the same music tastes,” he said, eyeing the Walkman you’d left at the corner of the table with your bag.

A haughty look cross your face and the stupid butterflies slammed into his small intestine painfully. “How would you know?” You asked. “You barely ask me anything outside of English.” The second part was quieter, almost involuntary and Eddie was suddenly struck by something.

Eddie had never pushed for anything more than you had freely given. He tried not to ask about what you were doing, what you liked, or what your weekend plans were. You’d smile to him in the hallways at school but you had completely different schedules so you rarely saw each other. Besides, Eddie had an ingrained self-preservation intuition and vehemently avoided any contact with the popular crowd.

While Eddie was not a betting man, he took calculated risks. You were – beyond the ability to analyze. But…the way your face had twisted, maybe he’d gotten his signals wrong? Had you wanted him to be your friend? He’d always assumed you were doing this to fulfill some extracurricular activity. Wouldn’t you be…embarrassed to be seen with him?

“Alright sweetheart,” Eddie said eventually, “educate me then.”

You stuck out your tongue, breaking the tension and tucked your Walkman into your bag. “Too late. You snooze you lose Munson,” you said, packing up your stuff. Eddie glanced at his watch and was once again astounded to realize two hours had flown by.

“I’ll see you next week at the same time?” You asked. “Drop your paper outline in my locker and I’ll take a look at it so we have something to cover.”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” Eddie saluted.

“Oh,” you said, hand elbow deep in your bag, “you see Mike tomorrow, right? At Hellfire?”’

Eddie frowned, unsure. “Yeah?”

“Can you give him these?” You asked, dropping a set of die in his hands. “He wanted to borrow my old set.”

Glancing at the well cared for set in his hand, Eddie gaped. “Are these holographic?”

You grinned and pulled your backpack onto your shoulders. “Yeah! Dustin got them for me for my birthday a while ago. They’re custom! He painted them for me.”

Eddie felt his throat dry up and was almost positive he’d floated up into the stratosphere. Seriously, a semitruck could’ve trampled him and he would’ve been less surprised.

“You coming?” You asked, totally unaware of how close Eddie was to offering you his heart on a platter.

Spurred into action, Eddie pocketed the set carefully and grabbed his bag. “Yeah, I- I’m coming.” He took in your carefully stacked bracelets and dainty necklace. Your pink sandals echoed in the hallway as you made your way to the familiar bike chained outside. How did someone like you play dnd?

“Dustin taught me,” you said as you walked the bike next to his van.

“What?”

You laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and squinting a little at the sun in your eyes. The air in his lungs caught at the sight of your skin in the light. Were you holographic? “Dustin and the other kids I babysat taught me how to play. I’m not very good,” you admitted sheepishly, “that’s why I never told you.”

“Oh,” he said, because his brain still wasn’t totally back from its trip into space.

“I’m an elf rogue,” you said, shrugging, “Will said it suits me since I used to practice archery.”

Eddie bit down on his cheek hard enough to almost draw blood. He fought every nerve in his body to not glare at the sky. Really universe? Really? Was his daily pining not enough?

“You’re a box of surprises, aren’t you, shortcake?” Eddie said, rocking on his heels.

You grinned. “I’m rusty at that too. My aunt lives in Indianapolis and she’s won a few competitions in archery. I’d stay with her over the summer breaks and she taught me. It was fun to run around thinking I was some kind of mini-Hawkeye or something.”

At that, he couldn’t hide his surprise. “Marvel?”

“I told you,” you said, looking incredibly flustered, as your eyes went down to your feet, “I babysat Dustin. For years. Some of it stuck.”

Say something, he urged, voice stuck in his throat.

“Uh, so I’m going to go,” you said, bright smile back on your face.

Eddie scratched the back of his neck. “Do you want a ride?” He asked, gesturing to his van. Great, that’s the best he could come up with?

You turned your smile in his direction and Eddie almost stumbled at the power of it. Jesus, he really needed to get a grip on himself. This couldn’t be healthy.

Nodding, you’d taken a step towards him when a loud honk popped the bubble you both were tucked into. Eddie glanced over your shoulder and felt reality sucker punch him in the throat.

“Hey baby!” Nick shouted, torso almost hanging out that stupid Camaro window. “I’ve been looking for you. Your sister said you’d be here.”

Aaaand that was the second reason he was a complete dumbass.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, looking embarrassed. “Thanks for the offer.”

“Mhmm, see ya,” Eddie said, darting towards his van and completely missing your look.

Eddie started his van and shot out of the parking lot. He risked a glance in his rearview mirror and immediately regretted it. You were tucked into the quarterback’s arms, his face ducking down to yours, and Eddie tightened his hold on the steering wheel.

You had a boyfriend – a jock no less – because of course you did, since when did life ever like to be fair to him? Why would it ever start now? Eddie scrambled for the cigarette carton in his passenger’s seat and lit one up. Nick Jackson had been the one who almost broke Gareth’s nose last year in gym class. Nick Jackson would absolutely kick his ass if he knew how gone he was on his girlfriend.

What type of asshole had two first names anyway? And how the hell had he managed to land someone like you?

He knew the answer, obviously, but he was still in shock despite the fact that Eddie had seen you two together for the past month.

Whatever. Fuck high school. The second he had that diploma in his hands he was driving out of here and not looking back.

Eddie was over school. He’d finally gotten the news that he’d been given the green light to graduate and the first person he wanted to tell was you.

So, to mediate that, he decided to skip his last two classes and gone out to the picnic table in the woods behind the school to smoke. Taking another drag, Eddie leaned back onto the rough wood table and snorted. Who would’ve thought? He’d known ’86 was going to be his year.

Although it was in no small part thanks to you. Eddie had seen you this morning – dressed in a blue ruffled skirt, with a cardigan and a shirt that hid absolutely none of your curves. He’d felt like someone had slammed a locker door in his face, blood rushing to the bottom half of his body.

The sound of a branch snapping had Eddie jumping up, instinctively flinging the joint off towards the trees. He turned towards the sound, excuse on the tip of his tongue, when his throat closed. You stood there, shy smile on your face, hands gripping your bags strap tightly.

“Hey Munson,” you said, motioning to the table. “Can I join you?”

“Uh, yeah shortcake, please,” he gestured grandly to the old, rusted table like it was worth a million bucks. “Welcome to my hide out. Uh, sorry for the smell and the smoke.”

You laughed, eyes wrinkling and mouth turning up like he was hilarious. “I actually wanted to ask if I could buy some off of you,” you scrunched your nose and Eddie felt his heart stop. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“What?” Eddie smacked his hand to his chest exaggeratedly. “Me? Make fun? Of you? I’m insulted.”

“Ah yes, because you’re so friendly,” you joked. “I’ve never smoked before so could you sell me something already rolled?”

Eddie grinned. “You’re in luck shortcake,” he said, patting his denim vest for the bag he knew was keeping for later, “I’ve got some for you right here.”

“How much?” You asked, searching for your wallet.

Waving off your offer, Eddie dropped it onto your bag. “Consider it a thank you for helping me get to graduation.”

You froze, eyes darting up to his and Eddie couldn’t help the grin that grew on his face. “Oh my God, Eddie, don’t joke with me about this.”

“I’m not!” He laughed, opening his arms and throwing his head back. “I’m finally fucking out of here!”

Without warning, you threw your arms around him. Eddie stumbled, more than a little surprised, and stilled for a second. His arms, however, were much smarter and quicker than the rest of him because they settled immediately on the curves of your hips. You squeezed him tightly, your fingers scratching almost subconsciously at his back in soothing circles. “I’m so proud of you! I knew you could do it Eddie, I knew it.”

Eddie leaned back to see that you were beaming, eyes bright and smile so wide it looked like it could crack your face in two. The sun pierced through the shade of the trees, landing on you like a natural spotlight – because of course it did. “Well, it’s mostly thanks to you. I couldn’t have done it without you,” he said. Which, was a hundred percent true.

He watched your eyes drift down his face, and for a millisecond he could’ve sworn they landed on his lips, but before he could confirm – you’d darted away. Hands fluttering down your pink cardigan, you soothed out the non-existent wrinkles and frowned.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “I didn’t mean – I know people hate when I – I’m sorry.”

“When you what?” Eddie furrowed his brows, confused. “Don’t be sorry.”

You wrung your hands together and Eddie hated how small you tried to become. “I – uh, Nick hated when I just hugged him out of nowhere,” you sighed, “I’m sorry.”

Reason number one that jock was a dumbass. If Eddie had the chance, he’d cling to you like a goddamn koala.

“Hey, what’d I say? We’re friends, right?” Eddie asked, ducking to try and catch your eyes.

“Are we?” You said, surprised.

Eddie clutched his heart, looking down at his hands as if there were blood, and blinked at you. “I didn’t know you came here to shoot me straight through the heart.”

A beat of silence echoed in the clearing before you laughed, delighted by his antics. Eddie smiled at your joy; you were one of the only people in his life that never complained about his general over the top flair. “I’m sorry,” you said, tone adorably earnest. “I didn’t mean it like that – I thought, well, I thought you didn’t want to be friends with me.”

He couldn’t help it, he really couldn’t but he let out an unattractive laugh and shot you a look. “Shortcake, if anyone was embarrassed to be seen with the other it’s definitely not me.”

An indignant sort of expression settled in your entire body. Eddie watched you, fascinated. He’d never seen you be anything but a human personification of a sunbeam.

“I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you,” you huffed, crossing your arms and Eddie’s eyes darted to the top of your head. Jesus Christ. He was not going to stare at your chest like a fucking pervert. He was not. Completely oblivious to his plight, you continued huffing. “I’ve tried to say hi to you like three times since I started tutoring you. You always looked like I was a lion who’d caught a mouse.”

“Because popular kids don’t talk to the outcasts, sweetheart. Don’t take it personally,” he sighed, “it’s a self-preservation tactic.”

You blinked at him. Eddie cringed internally – of course he fucked this up not even two minutes in. He scrambled to think of a way to rectify it when you sighed.

“Nick said he didn’t want me tutoring you anymore,” you said quietly.

Eddie didn’t know he could hear a heart shatter but he was positive that his just fell to the floor beneath him. That asshole. Didn’t he have enough? Thanks a lot universe.

“He said it wasn’t becoming of me to keep doing this so he wanted me to stop. I knew it was because he didn’t like you though,” you admitted.

Sighing, Eddie sat back down onto the table and pulled out another joint. Lighting it up he took a drag and blew the smoke towards his left. “So, I guess this is goodbye?”

A bird nearby sang, as if knowing he needed a soundtrack for this car crash waiting to happen. “No, you idiot,” you snapped, “I broke up with him.”

Everything tilted sideways and Eddie was sure someone had smacked him in the head with something. Maybe his hearing was off? “I’m sorry, I think I had a small seizure. Did you say you broke up with him?”

You nodded, coming over to sit across from him. “I never really liked him that much anyway. Chrissy thought we’d be cute together but I’m pretty sure I’m not his ideal type.”

“What, why is perfect too intimidating for him?” Eddie asked, the words out of his mouth before he could stop them. Jesus fucking – just take him out. Universe? You can take me out now! He screamed internally.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, ducking your head. Eddie saw the pleased smile on your face before you hid it away and it sent a stupidly happy pang through his body. “I meant, well – you know.”

“I really don’t.”

Sighing, you motioned to your body. “You know, someone skinny enough to be a flier on the cheerleading team.”

Eddie felt his spine solidify. “Did he…did he say that to you?” He asked, his vision darkening. “That absolute fucking shithead.” What an asshole. Not only did he have the hottest girl in the entire fucking town but he was taking jabs at you? Eddie wanted to punch something.

“Wait!” Your cool hand wrapped around his wrist and Eddie hadn’t even realized he’d stood and walked in the direction of the school. “Munson! It’s okay – he didn’t say it out loud! Holy shit you’re a lot stronger than you look.”

Eddie felt you wrap your torso around his arm in an attempt to stop him. Your chest pressed against his bicep and Eddie had to close his eyes and think of his great-aunt. A soft poke to his cheek had him looking down at you, amused. You looked like a squirrel clinging to a tree. With a slow nod, he let you walk him to the bench.

“Was that a dig at my body?” He asked. “Do I look weak?”

A mortified expression settled on your face and you immediately shook your head. “That’s not what I meant at all! I just – I meant, I’m – oh, you’re teasing me,” you said, exhaling a loud breath. “I hate you.”

Smiling, Eddie bumped your shoulder with his. “No, you don’t.”

“There’s no hurt feelings, I promise,” you told him, referring to Nick, “I wasn’t what he wanted and he wasn’t what I wanted.”

“Yeah?” Eddie took another drag of his discarded joint. “What’s your type? Swim team? Basketball team? Wait, soccer player.”

You rolled your eyes and bumped his shoulder again. “No,” you said, crossly. “I don’t know. For starters maybe someone who doesn’t think Metallica is just random noise.”

Eddie sighed. He looked up at the sky, a common occurrence at this point, and wondered if whoever was up there was having fun torturing him. You played dnd and you liked Metallica. Sure. Why not? He hoped Mother Nature or God, or whoever, was having a great laugh at his expense.

“I had you pinned for a Madonna girl,” he said eventually, reeling in the affection that seemed to be pouring off him in waves.

“I am, I like a ton of music,” you said, “I’m not condescending with my music tastes.”

Gaping, Eddie shot you a look and fought his smile at your mischievous look. You were going to be the death of him.

“Hi Wayne!” Your voice floated through the front door. Eddie straightened, eyes darting around the room to make sure anything embarrassing was hidden away.

“Hi honey. You know you don’t have to bring me something every time you come over,” he said, sounding pleased. Eddie rolled his eyes. In the past two months, you and Eddie had become fast friends. In fact, Eddie didn’t know how he’d gone almost the entire second half of the school year without bombarding you with questions.

He wanted to know everything about you – he’d take any crumble you’d give him. You’d shown up to Hellfire a few times, went to movies together, and religiously showed up to the Hideout to see him play. Eddie wasn’t sure he remembered his life before you. So, obviously, like nephew like uncle and Wayne had instantly loved you the way Eddie had.

“Munson, you better be decent,” you said, not waiting for an answer and kicking the door down.

“If you really want to see me in a state of undress so badly, all you have to do is ask shortcake,” he said, loving the flustered expression he could draw out of you so quickly.

“I hate you,” you said, daintily sitting on his bed and handing him a napkin full of cookies. You’d made it a habit of baking on the days you were coming over and while Eddie definitely appreciated it – he knew you were bringing them to Wayne. Who, like Eddie, completely fell for your sincerity.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to get to sleep at night is fine with me,” Eddie said, eagerly throwing half the cookie into his mouth. “Denial isn’t healthy though.” He winked.

“Jesus, does this have an off button?” You grumbled, flopping down onto his bed.

Eddie gave himself five seconds to appreciate the way your skirt hitched up higher on your thighs as you laid down, the bright purple material easily the most colorful thing in his room. He felt his eyes glaze over a little, imagining his teeth sinking into the meaty part of your inner thigh, the noises you’d made. Suddenly, you shot up, and Eddie tried his best to look like he wasn’t just being a goddamn pervert.

“Oh, I love this song!” You said, eyes lighting up.

His heart tripped over itself at the sight but he tilted his head and realized he’d left his stereo on as he was stitching a new patch, one you’d gotten him last week onto his vest.

When you know that your time is close at hand

Maybe then you'll begin to understand

Life down here is just a strange illusion

“That’s Iron Maiden,” Eddie said, stupidly.

You rolled your eyes. “I know, shithead,” you joked and Eddie blinked – he didn’t know why the way you cursed like a sailor was still so strange to him. Someone who wore pastels, bright colors, was in track to be valedictorian, and had a smile that rivaled the sun wasn’t someone who he’d thought would be ready to swing at the first sight of conflict. “We’ve been over your music superiority complex already, remember? I’m a woman of many interests.”

Eddie grumbled. You were right – you’d been the one who had bought him Metallica’s new album at the record store downtown when it’d just released. He thought he’d have to fight his way into getting his hands on it but, like always, you were there.

“So, do you remember how much you love me?” You asked, teasing. Eddie’s pathetic heart thumped against his ribcage and he glanced up at you.

“Why does that sound like the prelude to something I’m going to hate?”

You smiled, batting your eyelashes, and pressing your folded hands under your chin. “I need someone to go to the mall with me on Saturday. Pretty, pretty, please? I’ll do anything you want!”

Eddie’s brain short circuited for brief moment, imagining the list of things he’d both dreamed and would trade his soul to be able to do to you before he realized you were waiting for an answer. “Shortcake, I treasure our friendship but there are some things my fading sanity can’t take.”

You quirked a brow and Eddie had to fight not to visible react to your pout. He often wondered how it’d feel if he bit down on it. “Eddie?”

“Sorry, what?” He shook his head, returning back to the present.

“I said, and the mall would zap the last bit of sanity you had?”

Eddie nodded emphatically. “I’m not that strong.”

“Well, despite your complete betrayal,” Eddie rolled his eyes, “Nancy said she’d go with me and helped me find a dress. I just wanted to see if you’d come with.”

“A dress?” Eddie asked. “You going somewhere fancy?”

Laughing, you shot him an incredulous look. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Yeah, where are you going?”

“Prom, Eddie,” you said with a weird look on your face, “aren’t you going?”

At that, Eddie snorted. “Me? At prom?”

“I mean, I’ll be there – so will Robin and Nancy. Gareth and Jeff told me they’re going too,” you mumbled.

“I – do you want me to go?” Eddie asked, confused. “I can drop you off and pick you up if you want. My chariot is your chariot.”

Something flashed across your face but it was gone before Eddie could decipher it.

“Oh, no, thanks. I think Robin’s getting a ride from Harrington and they’ll give me a lift,” you said.

Eddie hated how well you and Steve got along. He shouldn’t have been surprised, considering he ran in the circle you did, but when he introduced you to his friends, he hadn’t expected how quickly you bonded. It’d taken him four and half months to hurl himself out of the acquaintance zone and Steve did it in five minutes.

“Sure,” Eddie said, going back to sewing a new patch onto his vest and trying not to stab himself.

“Would you go if I asked?” You said after a beat of silence.

He was almost sure he’d snapped something important in his neck with the speed in which he turned to you. At his expression, you straightened. “I mean, like would you go to prom and hang out with us? You don’t need to go with me.”

Deflating, Eddie tried not to let it show. Of course, you hadn’t asked him to go with you. You probably had a date or at the very least someone interested. Even then, he didn’t want to lie to you.

“Yeah, shortcake, I’d go if you asked me to.”

The smile on your face was small and grew gradually into something blinding. His heart flipped, the butterflies yawned awake, and Eddie sighed. He was pathetic.

Eddie knew his strengths and weaknesses. Thanks to Wayne, he was pretty decent at fixing cars. He knew more about music than most people he’d come across. And when it came to guitar? He wasn’t humble enough to deny how good he was. However, he was blatantly aware that math and science were subjects from the depth of hell. His driving had been criticized once or twice, and, he wasn’t that great at sounding particularly eloquent.

He'd never been more aware of that than in this exact moment. Eddie was leaning against Steve’s car. His red BMW was recently cleaned and Steve was hanging out the driver’s window, telling him about his most recent date. The tie around his neck felt like it was choking him but he wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t due to the anticipation.

Wheeler and Byers stood by their car, fumbling with her corsage and his tie. Robin’s front door opened and she came bounding out, her suit a bright blue that fit her perfectly. Her hair had been curled and she only seemed to wobble once on her heels as she made her way to the car.

“Man, if I don’t break my ankle before the end of the night,” she muttered, leaning on Eddie for support. He helped her catch her balance and smiled when she flushed at the compliments from everyone.

“You look good Buckley,” he told her, nudging her with his elbow.

Robin beamed. “You clean up well too,” she said, pulling at the suit he’d borrowed from Wayne. It was a little too big but Nancy had assured him no one would be able to tell. “I see you couldn’t resist,” she said bumping his converse with her pointy heel. “Why do you get to wear comfy shoes? She wouldn’t let me go in mine!”

“Because it ruins the look, Rob!” Your voice said from the front steps. Eddie glanced up and immediately felt the world freeze. Your dress was…molded onto your body. It was a long, lavender, flowy thing. It dipped low in the back and Eddie sighed. If the neckline was enough to give him a stroke, the back was going to have him flatlining. Your heels clicked against the stone as you hugged Robin’s parents goodbye.

“For fuck’s sake,” Eddie said under his breath, “that’s just not fair.”

Robin and Harrington, clearly heard him, snorted. “Careful there Munson, you’ll drop too much of a hint of how deeply in love with her you are if you keep that up.”

Eddie’s jaw snapped and he turned to glare at Robin. “What?” She said after Harrington snorted. “It’s true. They’re idiots.”

“Let them figure it out themselves,” Steve said. “We promised.”

“It’s infuriating,” Robin said, narrowing her eyes. “You’re both infuriating.”

“Alright, I’m all set,” you said, leaning forward to squeeze Steve’s hand. “Thanks for the ride, Steve.”

“No problem, you wanna ride with me or Byers?” Steve asked, settling into the seat.

Turning to him, he saw the question in your eyes and he cleared his throat. “Uh, wherever you want to,” he croaked.

Robin snickered and headed towards the passenger seat. Eddie shot her a glare but was interrupted by your hand on his arm. “You look great,” you said quietly as you waved to Jonathan. They honked at you as they took off down the street. “Thank you for coming.”

“For you? Anything,” he said, his tone a little too sincere than what he meant it to be. The blinding smile on your face after though, made it worth it. “You look…incredible,” he finished lamely. He heard hushed laughter from the car and fought the urge to scratch the back of his neck.

“Thanks,” you said, picking up the bottom of your dress in one hand. “I was worried I’d look dumb but Nancy was adamant this was my dress.”

Eddie needed to get Wheeler a gift. “Remind me to thank her because, shortcake?” You glanced up at him. “That dress was made for you.”

With a shy and pleased smile, you slid into the backseat and settled close to Eddie. Holy shit, you smelled amazing. Eddie barely managed to keep from dropping his nose to the crook of your neck. He slowly dropped his arm over your shoulders and grinned when you leaned into him.

Grabbing a parking spot near the entrance, Steve pulled into the school. Hopping out, he offered his arm to Robin who took it gladly.

“Are you guys ready for the last night of your high school career?” Steve asked, eyes on the doors.

“Yeah,” Robin said, “fuck this place.”

Eddie bumped her fist and you grinned. “After party at your house, Harrington?” You asked.

He knew you had to have been invited to a few afterparties – Robin had promised to make an appearance at the house of some kid from band. He’d heard you tell Nancy that you’d be going with Robin. Steve had assured him that they’d tag along too.

“More like the after after party when you two are drunk off shitty vodka,” Steve said motioning to Robin, who rolled her eyes and made a silly face.

“It happens one time…”

Nancy waved a hand in the air before disappearing through the doors. “Come on!” She shouted over her shoulder. You huffed a laugh and linked your arm through his.

“Ready?”

“Not really, but I’ll follow you into hell apparently.”

“You say the sweetest things,” you told him, deadpan. He snorted, other hand coming to squeeze the one you were resting on his forearm.

Eddie immediately squinted in the cloak of darkness that was the gym – he had to give it to the committee, he hardly recognized the place. A ridiculous pop song came on just as you waved to a few of your friends. “Look, Nancy found a table. Want to drop off our stuff and dance?” You asked the group. Robin nodded, already making her way towards the table and Eddie had to admit he felt a little out of place.

The itch under his skin yelled at him to run but the happy smile on your face when you patted the empty seat next to you kept him tethered to you – because how could it not? Eddie was sure you could ask for the disco ball and he’d risk his diploma to get it for you. 

“Drinks?” Eddie asked, overwhelmed by the five nodding heads. Byers, with a small smile, got up and offered his help.

While Eddie had grown, no matter how reluctantly, close to Robin and her sidekick Harrington. Jonathan had only recently become a new addition. His family had just moved back and he seemed too quiet to really like the chaos that Eddie knew he tended to attract. His kid brother however, Will, was one of his favorites. Not that he’d ever tell Dustin that. The kid had a jealousy streak a mile long.

They had both just settled into their seats, everyone with a drink in hand, when another pop mess song came on. Robin and you straightened, eyes going to each other before you scrambled to your feet. “I’ll be right back,” you said, dropping a kiss to his cheek that had him stunned for a moment. Robin grabbed your hand and you both ran towards the dance floor.

“It’s their favorite song,” Steve explained, watching them wave over a reluctant Nancy. You both bounced around, heads shaking, and zero care that a few people were shooting you looks. “You gonna ask her to dance tonight?”

Eddie shot Steve a look and hated that Steve felt comfortable enough now to ignore him.

“Don’t give me that look man,” Steve laughed, “you came together! You can’t not ask her to dance.”

“We didn’t come together,” Eddie muttered, taking a sip of the disgustingly sweet punch, “she made that pretty clear.”

“Or you heard what you wanted to,” Nancy said, finally standing with Jonathan’s and in hers. “Because from what I know, she thinks you’re here together.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie shouted at Nancy’s retreating back. He turned to Steve, who looked like he was hiding a laugh, “What the hell does that mean?”

“That you both have your heads stuck in the grass,” Steve sighed. “I promised Dustin that I’d let you two figure this shit out on your own but I’m giving you a needed shove. Come on Munson, we’re going to dance.”

He opened his mouth to protest but Steve put a hand under his arm and all but shoved him in your direction. Robin cheered when she saw him, her head bobbling wildly. You beamed, hands coming up to his and twirling prettily around him. His eyes were drawn to you like magnets, he couldn’t help it. You danced with abandon, graceful but chaotically at the same time. Eddie shouldn’t have been surprised but, he really wasn’t sure how much more in love with you he could get.

“I’m thirsty!” Robin shouted, pointing back to the table. Steve let her take his hand and dragged him off towards the sides.

You turned to Eddie, smile wide, and he watched it falter when the faintly familiar pop song turned slow. His feet froze and he glanced towards Wheeler – finding her arms around Jonathan’s as they swayed slowly. She widened her eyes and looked pointedly towards you.

Alright, he could take a hint. He wasn’t that stupid.

With a flourish, he bowed deeply and outstretched his hand. “Can I have this dance milady?”

Your laugh was muffled by the music but the electricity across his skin crackled as you took his warm hand with your cool one. How were you always so cold? He pulled your hands between his and tried to let some of his heat sink in. You grinned up at him, eyes soft, and he placed his own at your waist. “Okay?” He asked.

“More than,” you said, leaning your head onto his chest. He was worried you’d hear how fast his heart was racing but by the small, happy, sigh you let out – he didn’t think you’d mind.

“If you would’ve told me last year that I’d end up graduating this year, with a grade higher than a C, and that I’d be at prom with you – I would’ve laughed,” Eddie said.

You wrinkled your nose at him. “Am I that bad of a date?”

Date? Holy shit, was Wheeler being honest?

“Shortcake, you’re the best date. I just didn’t think you’d want to hang out with the likes of me,” he clarified, “I’m either invisible or a cult leader. Take your pick.” He tried to play it off as a joke but he knew you’d hear it.

“I’ve always noticed you, Eddie. You’re not invisible to me,” you said quietly, your big eyes looking up at him beneath your lashes. Jesus Christ, how much more of this could he take? For once, you seemed to share his sentiment because you took a step back, out of his arms and excused yourself. He watched you dart across the gym, grab a bewildered Robin, and pulled her into a solitary corner.

Mystified, Eddie walked back to the table and Steve raised one of his brows. “What’s happening? We’ve only been here for like an hour.”

“I have no idea,” Eddie admitted. He started to worry when he saw your purple nails from the distance flailing left and right as Robin’s hands came down on your shoulders. She said something that clearly stunned you. After a beat both of you turned towards him and he darted his eyes away to act like he wasn’t being nosey.

“Uh, that doesn’t look good,” Steve muttered. Eddie glanced back up and watched as you made your way quickly over to him. A determined expression was etched onto your face and Robin followed at a slower pace, a smug look on hers.

Without a word, you grabbed his sleeve and pulled him into the hallway when a teacher had their back turned. “Uh, shortcake?”

“Shh!” You admonished, still leading him down the hall. You don’t stop until you find an empty classroom, the lights were on and door unlocked but it was clearly deserted.

He watched your chest rise and fall quickly, like you’d run a mile, and before Eddie could ask you what was wrong – you all but chucked an envelope at him. He’d almost ducked instinctively but he managed to catch it in his hands. Where the hell had that even come from?

“What’s happening right now?” He asked, holding the envelope in his right hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Open it,” you said, your fingers went up to tug at a lock of your hair – a telltale sign that you were nervous.

“Sweetheart-”

“Eddie, open the envelope,” you stressed.

With a wary glance towards you, Eddie flipped the hastily taped tab and slid out a pair of tickets.

IRON MAIDEN, JULY 1ST INDIANNAPOLIS, IN.

“Holy shit, are these floor tickets?” He squawked, hands shaking. You had Iron Maiden tickets! How the hell had you managed that? “Shortcake, where did you get these? I thought they were all sold out.”

“My dad knows someone,” you said waving a hand like it wasn’t important. Like you hadn’t just handed him a priceless gift. “I got VIP passes too.”

Eddie’s soul was gone. That’s it, it was back up on the moon, throwing a party.

“It’s not my birthday, you know,” he said, barely containing his excitement. He rocked back and forth on his heels. Holy shit, he was going to see Iron Maiden! With you!

“I know,” you said, biting your bottom lip. Eddie’s soul slammed back into his body and he realized you were wringing your hands again.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“These are for us,” you said, pointing at the tickets.

“I assumed so,” he joked.

You closed your eyes, shoulders tense. “No, like… a date.”

Eddie snorted and immediately regretted it when he saw your head duck down. Shit, you’d been serious? You couldn’t have been serious. He knew Steve and Robin gave you both shit for it these past few months but there was no way in hell that you’d ever want to go on a date with him. He would’ve noticed. He absolutely would’ve noticed the signs.

“Oh,” you said, you voice incredibly sad, and Eddie wanted to slap himself. Okay, maybe he wouldn’t have noticed.

Eddie scrambled forward; tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. “No, wait – I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly, words jumbling together. “I didn’t realize you were serious. I thought – I thought you were joking.”

You winced. “I get it. I’m not…your type, we’re friends, it’s fine. You can take both tickets and take one of the guys.” The expression on your face was enough to make him want to face plant. You turned on your heel and walked to the door.

Eddie’s heart dropped to his feet and he lurched forward, hands reaching for you. “Wait, wait, that’s not what – please. Shortcake, let me speak. I just need a moment to process.” You tried to wrestle your wrist out his grip but Eddie clung on for his life. You were not just going to turn and run after dropping a bomb like that on him.

“It’s fine, Eddie. I promise I’m not – I’ll get over it.”

“I didn’t even know you liked me!” You shot him a contemptuous look and he refused to cower back. You were scary when cornered but he knew you had a soft, gooey center. Whatever he said now was important. He had to get this right.

“Sweetheart. Look at me,” he said, pulling you away from the door. “I swear, I didn’t think you felt like that towards me.”

Your hardened look softened a little when he ducked down to catch your gaze. Blinking, you frowned a little and straightened. “You’re not joking?”

“I have never in my life been more serious,” he huffed, “and I really mean that.”

Exploding, you waved your animated hands in the air and Eddie jerked back to avoid being smacked by one. “How the hell did you not notice? Everyone noticed! Even the cheer squad knew. I asked you to go with me to prom!”

“What?” Eddie’s voice cracked. “You said not with you – to hang out or something!”

“Yeah, I only said that after you looked like I had smacked you over the head!”

Eddie groaned. “Because I didn’t think you’d ever want to go with me!”

You crossed your arms and rubbed one of your temples. “It’s against school policy to tutor a student for longer than a month or two. It’s not fair to the program so we swap consistently. It’s a way to make sure everyone gets the coverage they need from the different tutors. Didn’t you question why we went from meeting at the school to the public library?”

“Uh, no?”

“Well,” you huffed, looking a little embarrassed, “I liked you from like the first session. You, obviously, looked more interested in watching paint dry so I thought I could win you over. After the month I told Ms. O’Donnell that you just needed some guidance and I’d sign off on your paperwork. I told you that we needed to start meeting at the public library instead.”

“But, what about Nick?” Eddie was so confused. Had he entered an alternate dimension again? He glanced around for any sight of the dust. “You had a boyfriend up until like three months ago!”

“Because I thought it would make you jealous!” You huffed, exasperated.

What.

“Well, it did!” Eddie shouted back, the words falling before he could stop them. “I wanted to punch his goddamn face in.”

You blinked. “But…you didn’t seem all that eager to be my friend. You barely asked me about my weekend plans. I couldn’t have dropped more hints!”

“Shortcake, you’re not only out of my league – you’re in a different dimension. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable!”

“Well, you didn’t!”

“Great!”

“Perfect!”

“Amazing.”

“Stupendous.”

“Are you going to keep trying to have the last word?” Eddie snorted.

You rolled your eyes but he saw your hands reach up for your hair. “I know I don’t dress like those girls at the hideout and wear too much yellow and pink and you think I’m popular and that my taste in music is overrated – which really proves my point that you’re pretentious – but –”

Eddie barely heard a word you were saying, his eyes watched your hands dance in the air, and your eyes dimming the more you spoke. How the fuck could you have ever believed that he wouldn’t like you? You still believed that, his mind supplied helpfully, anxiety evident in the rigid set of your shoulders. He knew from experience that if he let you keep going, you’d go on for hours. So, he grabbed your arms and pulled you into his chest. Startled, you stumbled and glared up at him.

“Shortcake?”

“What?”

“Please stop talking,” he said and dropped his lips to yours. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms the best you could around his neck and pressed your body against his. Your cool fingers tangled themselves in his hair and he shuddered when your nails dragged along his scalp. Eddie, finally, bit down on your bottom lip and the low groan you let out shot straight to his dick.

Shit, even after imagining this moment for months – it really couldn’t compare. You tasted like punch, strawberries, and faintly of candy. He pulled back for air, your breath coming out in quick huffs. Eddie smiled, his heart racing at the sight of your dazed look. He did that. You liked him. He’d shared his life with you and you still liked him. Did shit like this really happen?

“So, you want to go to the concert with me?” You asked lightly, smile twisting your mouth.

Eddie threw his head back and laughed. “I want to go everywhere with you, shortcake.”

“Everywhere is good, I like everywhere,” you babbled, “...well, Steve’s house has a lot of rooms. Maybe everywhere can include that at the end of the night?”

Shutting his eyes, he valiantly tried to exercise self-control and not imagine you naked on a bed squirming beneath him. Failing, just a little, he nodded enthusiastically. “Should we go right now? Because I’ll grab Steve if we need to.”

You laughed, the sound warming him even further. “We still need to go with Robin to that afterparty.”

Eddie let his head loll as he groaned. “Conformity is so much work.”

“I’m sure you’ll be okay,” you teased, kissing him again. “Come on, someone’s going to catch us if we stay away too long.” Honestly, Eddie was willing to risk it but he knew you didn’t want to miss this.  

As you both crept back towards the gym, your hand tucked in his, Eddie wondered if he was dreaming. He passed one of the wide windows in the hallway, the gym only a few yards away, and he pulled you to a stop.

“What?” You asked, peeking out through it.

Eddie ducked to look out the glass and caught sight of the dark sky and the full moon. He winked and pointed up at it. “You had me going there for a while, but this makes up for it. We’re even!”

“Who are you talking to?” You asked, glancing around.

“The moon. Or God. Maybe the universe?”

You nodded. “Okay,” you said, shrugging like it was completely normal.

Jesus Christ, he loved you.

The familiar chords of Kiss floated out of the open doors to the gym and Eddie perked up. “Is that…”

Tonight, I want to give it all to you

In the darkness, there's so much I want to do

“Kiss?” You asked, grinning. “Yeah, I promised the DJ half a gram from you if he’d play a few songs you like.”

Yeah, he was gone for you. Totally gone. If he had any dignity or pride left, he’d be a little embarrassed but he really couldn’t work up the energy.

“Come on!” You said, tugging him back into the gym and onto the dance floor. A few jocks looked disgruntled at the change of music but Robin and Nancy were out on the dance floor, so were a few others. You immediately jumped around, eyes bright, hips swaying, and Eddie’s heart felt like it’d jump out his chest at any moment.

“And I can't get enough of you, baby. Can you get enough of me?” You sang, turning to wink at him. Steve and Robin waggled their eyebrows, shooting him knowing looks and he shook his head. Nancy laughed, offering up her fist and Eddie couldn’t help but bump it.

Alright universe, he thought, you win, you totally win. I owe you for the rest of my life.

Eddie wrapped an arm around your waist and beamed when you leaned into his touch. Your lips came up to his jaw and he sighed. Maybe the shit show that was the entirety of high school was worth it if you were waiting for him at the end.

I was made for lovin' you, baby

You were made for lovin' me

I WAS MADE FOR LOVIN' YOU. eddie munson.

summary: the four times eddie knew he was a goner and the one time he told you.

warnings: no spoilers! don’t worry, you’re safe here. profanities. gif credits to @his-name-is-ed <3

word count: 5.1k

i. the first time eddie knew he was a goner was when… he found out that you love mötley crüe. 

eddie knows his presence is hard to miss. aside from his wild hair and clothing choices, which apparently do not fit the social standards, he makes it exceptionally difficult for people to ignore him. 

and yet, on a particular, normal, chilly friday in the school field, you effortlessly grab his attention. you didn’t need crazy hair or seeking clothes or loud eccentric speeches on top of a cafeteria table. you’re just… sitting there with a frown on your face and eddie thinks…

eddie can’t think. his mind draws blank as he continues to stare at you.

so like dominoes, his abrupt stop results in the rest of the hellfire club bumping into him, which causes a streak of groans and complaints, but eddie pays them no mind because as if his legs have a mind of their own, they bring him right to you. “carry on without me, my little sheep, destiny awaits!”

you groan in annoyance, slamming your hand onto your malfunctioning walkman. “stupid, stupid, little shi-”

“y’know, i don’t think mauling the poor thing will make it work.” 

you look up at the voice with a glare, your face softens just a bit after seeing it was eddie, but the glare prevails nevertheless, still frustrated with your walkman.

“i mean, sure, i guess that could make it work, too,” eddie shrugs, hopping on top of the picnic table instead of sitting on the benches like a normal person.

“it will work,” you grit your teeth, hitting the side of the device as it did nothing to fix the distorted voice of vince neil. “it just needs a bit of tough love.”

after watching you for a few more minutes with an amused smile, eddie snatches it out of your hands, convinced that you would break it if it doesn’t revive the next second. he ignores your objections as he opens his black metal lunchbox.

“it’s not a lunchbox,” he absentmindedly retorts to your murmur as he goes through his things, silently muttering a quiet no, not this, nope, what the hell is this? and finally, aha!

he raises a mini screwdriver before you as if it will magically take your problems away. “this, my lady, will magically take your problems away.”

huh. 

you hesitantly watch as eddie pops open your walkman, taking out the mixtape to find the tape itself burst out of its case. he tinkers and meddles with it carefully, doing wonders as he manually rewinds it. 

you use his current distraction to take a good look at him. you’ve seen him around the school; in class, in the hallways, at the cafeteria, but you’ve never crossed the borders of his personal bubble or actually spoken to him until now.

he isn’t a bad sight to see. 

his hair, although gone rogue, looks so soft that you physically have to restrain yourself from touching it. he has tattoos inked on his skin, slightly covered by his hellfire shirt as if teasing you and leaving you wanting to see more. beautiful silver rings graced his fingers making you want to study each intricate detail that embellished the jewelry.

his tongue is poking out of his lips, brows furrowed in concentration. his nose is slightly crooked as if it’s been broken before. he has dimples piercing his cheeks and the lightest of freckles sprinkled over his face, only noticeable if kissed under the sun.

all things considered, eddie munson is a sight for sore eyes.

“are you done staring, sweetheart?” eddie teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “if you’d like, i can pose for you on this table.”

you were too deep in your reveries that you didn’t notice he was done. you blink up at him and scoff. “shut up, i wasn’t staring.”

“it’s fine, y’know, it’s normal to stare at pretty things.” he encourages you, satirically playing with his hair. “especially if you’re one of those connoisseurs of art.”

“wow, someone learned a new word today.” you praise him sarcastically.

“now, now, y/n, is that a way to treat someone who just fixed your lil walkman?” eddie chastises, grabbing your headphones from your neck and putting it on his ears. “what were you listening to anyway?”

he gives it a few seconds before the familiar music comes in. he whips his head towards you with a slack jaw. he winces, his hand coming in contact with his neck, massaging the pain from snapping his head towards you too fast.

… i've been a poet always tongue in cheek,

i've seen some scenes man you'd never believe,

and like a supercharged rocket ride,

you know they'd have gasoline if they had the time.

“you- you listen to mötley crüe!” eddie blurts out, standing on the picnic table and pointing an accusatory finger at you. “you’re one of us!”

“shut up!” you pull him back down with a yank. you can still hear angela blasting through your headphones. you look at him with a sigh before muttering. “i love mötley crüe.”

eddie lets out a choked laugh, jumping off the table and squishing your cheeks with his hands. “you’re a cute little metal freak!”

“shut up, munson! you better get your hands off my face or so help me god.”

it came out as gibberish but the point came across. 

“you say ‘shut up’ too much, is that your favorite word?” eddie calls into question, leaning closer to you with a roguish grin. his gaze flickers down to your pouting lips before staring straight into your eyes. “i can teach you more ways to shut me up, y’know?”

“scout’s honor that it’s even more efficacious than the words itself.” he winks at you before grabbing his lunchbox, leaving you bewildered and baffled beyond belief. mötley crüe did not do anything to blur the forming thoughts in your head.

that was strike one for eddie munson.

ii. the second time eddie knew he was a goner was when… you knocked someone out cold with a box of frozen waffles.

you shouldn’t have been out at an ungodly hour, quite frankly, but you really, really, wanted some eggos. so clad in sweats and an oversized shirt, you walk out of bradley’s big buy with three boxes of mini waffles in hand.

and as if the universe wasn’t satisfied with only one interaction, you hear eddie munson’s voice. “hey, come on, man. you’ve been my client for over a year now and you’re only doubting me now?”

“we talked about fifteen grams, munson, so i’m expecting fifteen grams.” 

eddie sighs, rubbing his tired face with his hand. they’ve been going back and forth and he was starting to get annoyed. he wasn’t even supposed to be dealing right now, but when money calls, you answer it. 

“look, man. it’s fifteen. if you don’t believe me, give me the money, go find a weighing scale, and weigh your shit. it’s fifteen grams.” he says, grabbing his lunchbox, but just as he wrapped his fingers on the handle, he gets shoved to the ground, his things crashing with him, skin scratched from catching himself on the rough pavement.

motherfucker.

“hey!” you didn’t want to. you really didn’t want to, but before you can think twice, you get in between eddie and the ridiculously tall buff guy.

you should really start thinking twice.

said guy, although high as a kite, looks at the box of eggos on the floor and back at you. you had thrown a box of waffles at his head.

“take your fifteen grams and leave,” you order calmly, ignoring the whispers of objections of eddie, who immediately stands up at lightspeed, startled by your sudden presence.

“i don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but this is between me and your little druggy friend, a’ight?” he sneers, pushing you aside to grab eddie by his shirt. “besides, the fuck do you know about packing shit right?”

“i know how to pack a punch, for starters.”

you didn’t give him or eddie to process your words before, CRACK! your fist comes in contact with his nose — a sickening crunch and a cry had them both freezing, well, except for the junkie clutching his nose.

“you bitch!” 

with the throbbing pain of your knuckles, you could only whack him across his face with the box of waffles in your hand as he leaped to get you. 

eddie, still frozen in his spot, can only watch in both horror and amazement as the guy gets knocked out cold, face kissing the sidewalk. 

“holy shit…”

“how much did he owe you?” you huff, clutching your victimized hand as you stand over the guy. 

“twenty.” he blinks.

you shrug, digging a hand in the jean pocket of the junkie and placing the crumpled bills in eddie’s hand. “twenty-five for being a shithead.”

eddie took you out for some ice cream treat after that.

“remind me to never get on your nerves, you scare me,” he said, but there was no real fear behind his words, just a twinge of wonder in his voice and a sparkle in his eyes.

you didn’t say anything. you didn’t need to, so you just grinned at him before taking a scoop out of his ice cream.

and at that moment, under the moonlight with frozen waffles aiding your knuckles and discarded ice cream cups on top of his van, eddie just knew that you would stick around. 

and the rest was history.

that was strike two for eddie munson.

iii. the third time eddie knew he was a goner was when… traces of you were slowly starting to bleed into his life, and he didn’t mind.

“is this… MADONNA?”

eddie snaps his head towards the curly-headed boy in his passenger seat, eyes widening at the sight of the manifold of mixtapes that sits on dustin’s lap.

he splutters incoherent excuses as he chucks them back into his glovebox, a hand still on the wheel as he tries to keep the van steady. 

dustin watches in amusement as eddie fumbles with the mixtape that fell from his grasp. he snatches it out of his mentor’s hand and snickers, “wow, abba, too? didn’t know you were such a pioneer of music, eddie.”

eddie thwacks him with the d&d gazette before turning his eyes back on the road. “those aren’t mine.”

it was his. you left it for him.

dustin squints his eyes at his friend as if staring at him like that will force him to tell the truth, and it almost did, but thankfully, he chooses to go through the mixtape-filled glovebox again instead.

you brought half of your mixtapes with you when eddie had asked you to accompany him on a spontaneous road trip out of town one day. he always looks back to that moment.

you were passionately talking about the songs that graced your diverse music taste, hands animatedly moving around as words spew out of your mouth every millisecond. he understood every single thing you said, though.

just because you love mötley crüe doesn’t mean you don’t love starship. you love kiss but you also love the beatles. you love metallica but you also love bee gees, and maybe he was starting to like it, too. 

if you ask eddie, he’ll choose cyndi lauper’s time after time as his slow dance song. absolutely irrelevant yet very relevant.

“why the hell are you smiling like a crazy man?” dustin pokes his cheeks, effectively snapping him out of his daydream.

eddie slaps his hands away from his face.

aside from mixtapes in his glovebox, eddie also has a special drawer with the clothes you often leave at his house, and with the best detergent he has – a discounted brand from a dollar store – he voluntarily washes it for you to wear next time.

 “did… did you wash my clothes?” he remembers you asking the first time.

he turns away from his notebook to look at you. “uh, yeah. you left some of your stuff here and i decided to include it with mine last wash day.”

“oh,” you beam, pulling the material to your nose and breathing it in. “thanks, babe.”

eddie ignores the warmth of his cheeks and goes back to doodling in his notebook. “‘course, would you like me to wear a maid outfit while i’m at it next time?”

you laugh. “i’d like that very much.”

you bring the soft fabric back to your nose, it smells just like him.

you start leaving more clothes in his room after that.

that was strike three for eddie munson.

iv. the fourth time eddie knew he was a goner was when… he wanted to be the best version of himself whenever you’re around.

“okay, so i have a bag of those honeycomb cereal you like, some pringles, juice boxes, pints of ice cream…”

as you continue to list off the snacks you brought for the d&d campaign with the boys, eddie leans forward to buckle your seatbelt, letting you catch a whiff of his cologne. he tugs it twice to make sure it’s fastened properly. “safety first.”

you pause. “you literally never wear your seatbelt.”

“that’s because i sold my soul to the devil for immortality,” eddie pats your thigh before backing out of your driveway. “and because it will cause a decline in my precious reputation!”

“what, common road safety?” you snort. “do tell, kind sir, what would the great eddie munson be known for?”

“you don’t know?” he scoffs in mock disbelief. “i’m an evil self-proclaimed attention whore – i’m known for a lot of things, sweetheart.”

“speaking of being an attention whore,” you gravitate towards him to sniff him again. “are you wearing a new perfume, munson?”

“sit back down, dumbass! and it’s cologne, not perfume.”

“same shit. are you trying to impress someone?” you tease, settling down back in your seat before letting out an overdramatic gasp. “is it dustin? is it because he’s been hanging out with steve the past week?”

“what? no!” he wavers for a moment before sniffing himself. “why? does it smell bad?”

you laugh. “no, no. i actually like it better than your old one.”

“good, i bought it especially for you.” he winks, turning the volume of the music up before you can even reply.

“i can’t believe erica rolled a d20!” eddie exclaims, packing up the boards.

“and twice,” you agree. 

as usual, you and eddie stayed back after the campaign, ushering the kids — and gareth and the group — out of the room as soon as you heard the distant rumble of the sky. you knew they’d be biking home, so you asked them to leave early, much to your best friend’s displeasure.

you pick up the empty chip bags and discarded juice boxes, prolonging the chat you’re having with eddie.

mid-conversation, you lean against his throne, garbage bag in your hands. he was talking animatedly and you’re not quite sure what he’s even talking about anymore.

the lights of the room give him a glow that makes your heart beam. the perfect combination of green, orange, and blue; it makes him look like a fallen angel. a devil in disguise. the right fusion of both.

his eyes are soft, it’s kind. his smile is, too. everything about him is. he doesn’t show anyone, but you always get the opportunity to see a part of him that makes you fall in love with him even more.

“…and then just as i was about to dream of rubbing their loss in their puny little faces — she slaps me with a crit hit! that’s twice!”

“yeah,” you whisper, a gentle smile on your lips. you push yourself off the chair and start helping him around the room. “maybe it’s a sign that you’re getting a bit rusty, buzz.”

“drop it with the nickname! it’s been years and i was only forced to have it shaved after stupid anthony chopped my hair nasty in history.”

you double down in laughter. “and wayne has been so gracious enough to show me the pictures.”

eddie glares at you before running towards you. you only advance two steps away from him before he catches you from behind and pulls you against him.

“salvage yourself, you insolent little minx.”

“no! i shan’t yield!”

giggles escape both of your lips, sounds slowly getting muffled by the drops of rain starting to patter one by one, making you and eddie stop in your tracks.

you exchange wide-eyed glances before hurrying with the packing.

you run out of the building, shoes splashing over the formed puddles, you didn’t even notice eddie shrug his jacket off to shield both of you from the rain. 

a few meters from his van, you pull away from him and let the water hit you, dampening your clothes all within a second. 

“what the hell are you doing?” eddie shouts over the loud pour.

“come on!” you pull him towards you, cold hands grasping his warm ones, you dance in the rain.

eddie watches you in disbelief, though there’s a smile on his face. “fuck it,” he mutters. “wait here.”

he runs to his van, almost slipping on the wet ground. “i’m okay!”

“idiot.” you snort.

eddie opens the door to the passenger seat and opens the glovebox. he grabs a random mixtape and fumbles to put it in the player, only then realizing that he didn’t even start the van. 

a minute or two later of waiting, you hear a bees gees song blast from eddie’s van. 

“come on, baby,” he whoops, grabbing your hands as he starts shimmying. “let’s dance!”

you let out a blissful laugh as he twirls you around. you jump around in the puddles, soaked clothes slightly weighing you down from being drenched. you attempt to twirl eddie around, too, which was a struggle due to his height.

he sings along to the song and you gasp in surprise. “you know this song?”

“do i- do i know this song?” he repeats in incredulity. “of course, i do! i’m in-”

adrenaline getting to his head, eddie realizes what he was about to say so he rectifies it. “you only sing it every second of the day. that damn song is engraved in my head!”

he pulls you back against him with a grin, a hand intertwined with yours and another supporting your back. he dips you, and you yelp in surprise.

the both of you are panting from all the dancing, but the smiles never left your face. you stare at his face, he stares at yours. you tuck a wet strand of his hair behind his ear, letting your hand rest on his jaw. he has a light stubble.

his eyes flicker to your lips, you do the same.

should i kiss him? should i not kiss him?

the loud boom of the thunder makes the decision for the two of you. the sound startles both of you, resulting in jumping away from each other faster than the next flash of lightning.

“we should head home if we still want to have this movie marathon,”

“yeah.”

eddie goes over his thoughts for a moment as you adjust the heater of the van. he recollects the resolution he made earlier, pondering over the idea of being the best version of himself though he already feels like he became it the first time he met you. how can one become the best-est best version of themselves?

that was strike four for eddie munson. 

but for you… you lost count of how many it’s been because every day with eddie adds a tally to your strikes.

v. the time eddie tells you how he’s a goner for you.

“harrington? fucking harrington?”

“it’s a friendly date, buzz,” you point out, hand steady as you do your eyeliner in his bedroom mirror.

“with harrington?” he stresses, his own hands tugging at his brown locks.

“yes, eddie.” you sigh, it’s been a repetitive back and forth. “it’s not a date date. it’s friendly, as i said. robin will be there.”

he sits up against the wall, lips moving before his brain can process his words. “well, if buckley’s gonna be there then what else does he want with you?”

you pause, dropping your hand to look at him. “okay, ouch.”

“no, i-” he groans dramatically into his hands. “i didn’t mean it like that. i just- i don’t understand why you have to spend a perfectly great night with harrington-”

“and robin.”

“-and robin, when you can just spend it with me.” eddie pouts. he sounds pathetic, he knows, but he’s jealous. what if you decide to leave him for steve? – and although he understands; it’s steve harrington, for god’s sake. he would, too, if he can – life would have no other purpose for him if you do.

“aww,” you mimic his pout, walking over to him to pat his cheeks. “don’t worry, hotshot, you’re still my favorite boy.”

“whatever,” he swats your hands away, though the grin tugging at the corner of his lips persists. he takes his time admiring you properly. you looked gorgeous, as always.

“c’mon, you big baby,” you protested. “robin will be there! plus, you can always come wi-”

“well, why didn’t you say so?” he exclaims, leaping towards the door clad in his hellfire shirt and boxers. “let’s go! we better get goi-”

you throw his jeans at him. “for your modesty.”

eddie was glad he came along. he looks at you with clear fondness, watching as your eyes light up like a child on christmas day. you jump in excitement, dragging him into the fair. 

“hey, you made it!” steve jogs towards you, but then his eyes flicker to your company. “…and munson.”

“harrington,” eddie grins, a hint of mischief in the glint of his smile as he bows to him.

you roll your eyes at them. “where’s robin?”

“right here, lovebug,” she smiles, offering you a pink cotton candy as she takes a bite off the blue one. steve’s mouth slowly falls slack in bewilderment.

“aww, my favorite,” you pout your lips as you clink your sweets like glasses of wine. 

“that’s mine!”

“buy your own cotton candy, dingus,”

“you paid for those with my money.”

eddie pays them no mind as they continue to bicker. he snatches a piece of cotton candy as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “i see a kissing booth we can go to… the marriage booth, too, maybe?”

“stop,” you smack his arm. “let’s start with the basketball — eddie, they’ve got those big teddy bears!”

“well, the night is young, sweetheart,”

the night is young, indeed. you go around the fair with the group, steve has the giant teddy bear propped on his shoulders as if it was his child — “he is!” he argued. “his name is harry harrington.”

“harry harrington?” you had asked in incredulity. “that’s a shit name, steve!”

he gasped in mock offense, bringing the bear down to cover its ears. “don’t listen to her, harry, she’s just jealous you aren’t hers.”

eddie’s jealous he isn’t yours, too, but he wasn’t going to say that. 

you felt as if you’ve managed to go through every single booth but according to the map robin had somehow snatched, there were more than half of it you have yet to explore.

“c’mon, there’s a ball toss over there,” eddie says, grabbing your arm to drag you away from steve. “gonna win you that giant fucking elephant.”

although as soon as you stop by before it, eddie does a double-take. “six dollars?”

“six dollars.” the merchant confirms.

he looks at you and whispers in disbelief. “six dollars?”

you shrug at him, letting out a chuckle at his expression. “capitalism, baby,”

eddie sighs. he’s glad he brought his wallet with him. he’s willing to spend all of his income if it meant getting you that elephant — and he will.

“we don’t have to, you know,” you reassure him, eyeing him as he reaches out for the dollars. “there’s still a lot of booths we can go to.”

“nah, i’m getting you that elephant.” he slams the money on the counter. the merchant smirks. three balls.

eddie grabs one and exhales. “wish me luck.”

he throws the ball, and again, and then again. and then he slams more money onto the counter, and then again, and again. 

his aim’s good, but not enough to knock all the cans down. steve and robin managed to do a round before returning to the both of you with corndogs in hand.

with his promise of a last round, he sighs at the sight of what’s left of the standing cans. he gives you the last ball.

“are you sure?” you hesitate.

“do the honors, my lady,” eddie smiles, eyes so soft that subtle crinkles show at the corners. 

and with a swift throw, you somehow manage to knock down all of the cans. you and eddie whoop in excitement, jumping up and down as the merchant sighs exasperatedly, grabbing your oversized prize.

“oh my god,” you whisper, hugging the elephant to your chest. “it’s so fluffy!”

eddie looks at you with a dopey lovesick smile. maybe it was the sparkling fairy lights overhead, or the distant music playing, or maybe it was because you’re practically bouncing off the balls of your feet, a giddy smile adorning your lips… or maybe it was because eddie cannot take it any longer so he says, “i’m in love with you.”

you falter for a bit, uncertain if you heard him correctly. “what?”

and steve, who had initially asked you on a date — although as friendly as he claims — leans against the wooden pillar, face contorting in realization, lips forming into an unmistakable o as he grasps what is happening.

robin grins, a quiet finally! unleashing from her lips. to give you two some privacy, well, as private as a conversation in a public place can be, she drags steve to a very friendly competition of high strikers. steve lets her, sending eddie an encouraging thumbs up. 

“i-i’m in love with you,” eddie repeats, voice wavering at your blank expression. he couldn’t read you and it’s making him anxious. “i’m so terribly and undeniably in love with you – i knew i did the moment you said you love mötley crüe.”

you let yourself feel all the emotions bursting in all at once. he likes you. eddie munson likes you, so you ask stupidly, “are you sure?”

eddie scoffs a laugh. “am i- am i sure? are you asking me if i’m sure about my own feelings?”

you shrug.

he looks at you before breaking into a run without another word.

“eddie, where are you going?” you call out frantically. 

eddie eyes the haystacks in the center of the park and clumsily mounts on them and nearly falls. he catches himself before he can tumble down. his eyes flicker to yours as he cups his hands over his mouth. “fair people of hawkins, i have an announcement to make!”

“what is he doing?” steve asks as he and robin appear from beside you. 

“i have no idea.”

some people stop by to watch, some go on with whatever it is they were doing, and you just stand where you’re planted, unsure of what he’s about to do and what you’re supposed to do.

“i, eddie munson, a self-proclaimed attention whore, have something very important to say.” he starts – “well, get on with it now!” a guy exclaims. eddie ignores him – “i am in love with y/n l/n. i’ve been in love with her since i found out she loves metal, i’ve fallen for her since she knocked a guy out cold with frozen waffles–”

“frozen waffles?” robin questions.

“– i fell for her even harder when she introduced me to madonna –  that’s right, i love madonna! but most importantly, i knew i was a goner when i wanted to become the best version of myself for her. i wanted to become the person she deserves because i am in love with you, y/n, always have.”

you soften and the world disappears around you; it was just you and him. there is an ache in your chest, but not because of heartbreak, it’s because it feels as if it will burst out of your chest out of love. 

“we can’t help who we fall for,” eddie breathes out, walking down the stack. “but honestly, i’m glad it’s you because there’s no one else in this world whom i would love to love if it’s not you.”

you shove the elephant in steve’s hold and walk straight to eddie. 

he sends you a small smile, arms extended. when you’re a step closer, he whispers. “i’m sorry, i just had to-”

“shut up,” you command, pulling him in for a heated kiss, fingers getting lost and tangled in his hair, his arms snake around your waist to pull you impossibly closer, no gap left unfilled.

your lips dance a fast-paced song, it’s all but intense and passionate – a hint of eagerness and the satisfaction of longing. you forget that it wasn’t just the two of you, that there was a crowd watching you both kiss. you can hear the faint coos of the moms by the corner.

“get a room!” a guy barks out. simultaneously, you and eddie flipped him off but the kiss decelerates into soft and sensual, a contrast to the shared feverish one, now easing up to the feeling of content and delicate love.

you pull away a second later, forehead touching his as you don’t dare to open your eyes yet. “i’m in love with you, too, if it’s not obvious yet.”

“well, i should hope so,” eddie laughs. he gives you a quick peck on the lips before fixing you with a teasing grin. “how about that marriage booth now, sweetheart?”

“take me out on a date first, loverboy.” you interlace your hand with his as you walk away from the spotlight.

“how about a kiss on top of the ferris wheel?” he proposes instead.

“sap,” you scrunch your nose up with a smile. “but i’m not opposed to the idea.”

that was strike ??? for you and eddie.

“just to let you all know, i am not going to sit next to steve on the ferris wheel.”

“what do you mean? i’m an amazing ferris wheel companion.”

“would you like to get shoved off the seat once we’re on top?”

“... how about the bumper cars?”

“deal.”

ouroboros

MY MASTERLIST

pairing(s): eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: Look, you're only helping him out because your friends have taken pity on him. It's totally not because of his stupid, pretty face and how much you want to kiss it. Totally.

words: 8.1k

tags: explicit (18+ MINORS DNI), smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, praise kink, mild choking, dom!eddie, smoking, drinking, reader is in college and eddie's age, overuse of the word fuck, i googled motorhomes circa 1984 for this fuckin thing, slight canon divergence ig, also slightly inspired by touch tank by quinnie

additional notes: i am AWARE he doesn't have an ouroboros ring don't look at me. it's about the symbolism

taglist blog: @rosemareblogs

“All right, Munson, it’s me. Don’t fuckin’ attack me with a broken bottle, kapeesh?”

The line is dead for a long moment, and then Eddie Munson’s staticky voice crackles through the speaker of your walkie. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes and clap the antenna down with a small sigh, then cut the engine to your far-too-conspicuous Pontiac. You suppose that the only thing working in your favor is that Reefer Rick’s lake house is surrounded by overgrown foliage that you can tuck the car back into, away from the road. 

As the eldest of the Hawkins crew, you’ve taken on the job of “Eddie duty,” as Steve calls it. As if he could be bothered to leave the Wheelers’ basement to run errands instead. There had been a long discussion, wherein your entire group insisted that you were the choice candidate because you’re old enough to pick up a six pack of beer on a moment’s notice. Plus, you aren’t directly linked to Eddie in any way, so it’s a win-win. You look after Munson, and everyone else works on hunting up this “Vecna” creature that you can’t exactly wrap your head around.

Honestly, you could offer to have Eddie stay at your place for a while. You would, except you really don’t love the idea of being arrested. But the more trips you make out here, the more that seems to be becoming a moot point.

Carrying a paper grocery bag in one hand and a six pack in the other, you trudge up the front porch steps and find the door to the house already unlocked for you. There’s a musty cloud of stale air that hits you as you pass through the threshold, and then your eyes find Eddie’s dark head of hair leaning halfway out the kitchen window. 

“What… are you doing?” You ask as the screen door swings shut behind you. 

Eddie pivots his torso, looking down his nose and smiling brightly at you as he continues fiddling with something on the window frame. He has a lit cigarette hanging out of his mouth, which bounces up and down as he mutters, “Window’s jammed. Don’t wanna leave it like that, someone could break in.”

“The door was fully unlocked,” you grumble at him as you plop the grocery bag on the counter and rip a beer out of the six pack to crack it open.

“But that’s ‘cause I knew you were coming.” There’s a snap, and the window slides noisily shut as Eddie blows out a cloud of smoke. “Hey- who wrote ‘Breakfast At Tiffany’s?’” 

“Truman Capote, why?” 

“I finished Rick’s crossword, I just needed 24 across.” He sidles up beside you, grabs a pencil from the kitchen table and scrawls ‘Capote’ in the only empty space on the newspaper’s crossword of the day. 

“You’ve been sitting here doing crossword puzzles for the last two days?” 

Eddie shrugs. “Yeah, I mean. High intelligence, low charisma and all.” 

“What?”

“It’s, uh… D&D stats? Dungeons and- you know what, never mind. Point is, I’m no good for anything else at the moment.” Your senses are assaulted by cheap beer and tobacco as you take a sip from your can, and then hold it out to Eddie. He takes it appreciatively, with a quiet nod at you as he trades you his half-smoked cigarette for the can. 

You avert your eyes almost bashfully as you grab the cigarette with your mouth rather than your hands, which are pulling cans of Campbell’s soup out of the grocery bag. Your lips brush the tips of his fingers before you straighten up, and Eddie clears his throat and turns away from you to lean against the counter. You both regress into an awkward, pregnant silence. 

You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t been on shift with Robin and Steve when Dustin Henderson came running in and turned the video store into his personal manhunt headquarters. It was the worst case of right place, wrong time. You don’t know what you’re doing at any given moment, but you can say with absolute certainty that Eddie isn’t a killer. And with everything going on, the only moments in the last week that have made any sense to you at all are when you’ve been alone in this dusty ass house with Munson, sharing a beer or a cigarette or both before you have to leave him to his devices again. You find it comforting that he seems just as clueless as you are, and there’s no other expectations that you put onto each other besides that mutual confusion. 

Plus, you’ll admit it: you find him intriguing. Interesting. Eddie was supposed to graduate the same year as you, but while you moved on, got a job and spent a few semesters at community college, he stayed at Hawkins High. You hadn’t paid much attention to him while you were going to school together, but you’d had an idea of him in your head. You figured he would be your stereotypical, cookie-cutter metalhead with a chip on his shoulder. 

You couldn’t have been more wrong about that, it seems. 

“Oh, um, I got you some fancy ass chocolates,” you say, breaking the silence so suddenly that he almost flinches. You pull a gold foiled box out of the paper bag, setting it on the tile counter beside him. “Just figured, y’know. It’s good for morale or whatever.”

Eddie stares down at the box of chocolates like it might explode. He drums his fingers anxiously on the side of his beer before his brown eyes flick up to yours. “You’re serious?”

“Um… yes? They’re just,” you shrug, looking for the right words to offer him, as he’s looking a bit overwhelmed and you aren’t really sure why. “I mean, they’re my favorites. They’ve got this caramel center that isn’t, like, super sweet, so you can eat a bunch and not feel sick to your stomach. I dunno, I just thought maybe it would be good for you to have a little variety. Or something.”

Eddie stares at you for a long time. Then he says, “Were they, uh… expensive?”

“What?” Your eyes widen, and your face feels suddenly hot. They were expensive, as far as candy goes, but you figured it was a luxury he could probably use right about now. But he looks so hesitant to even touch them, almost like he’s horrified that you might have dared to spend more than the bare minimum on him. Which, fuck that. Absolutely fuck that. So, you correct yourself quickly, and you lie, “No, they’re normal priced. I guess. It doesn’t matter.”

It still takes a moment for him to nod, but he still doesn’t move to touch the box. “Thank you.”

You blink down at the paper bag, and figure it would be best to change the subject. “I also got some TV dinners in case you were maybe getting sick of soup. And, uh… I picked up a deck of cards. In case you were getting bored.”

“Because that’s the most important thing on everyone’s mind right now. Whether I’m bored,” Eddie says with a smirk, but takes the unopened deck from you and sets his beer can down, regardless. You see him fiddling with something out of the corner of your eye as you shove the frozen dinners into the freezer, and when you turn back to him, he’s holding a silver ring out to you. 

“What is it?” You ask him with a short laugh, taking the ring from him.

“An Ouroboros. A snake swallowing its own tail. It’s, uh… a symbol of eternal life.” He shrugs one shoulder, and then nods slightly toward the box on the counter. Your eyes follow the curve of his lips as he smiles. “For the chocolates.”

“I told you it’s not a big deal,” you argue, trying to hand him back the ring.

“The ring isn’t a big deal either. It’s cheap metal, I got it for a buck and a quarter from a guy downtown.”

You can’t think of anything to say to that. If it’s really not that big a deal, you shouldn’t treat it as such; but something about him giving you one of his rings in exchange for a box of chocolates is a bit formal. And despite what he says, the ring is a bit heavier than you’d expect from ‘cheap metal.’

Eddie laughs and reaches forward, but instead of taking the ring from you, he plucks the still burning cigarette from the fingers of your other hand. “Do I look like I’d bullshit you about that?”

“Dunno. I’m learning not to judge a book by its cover.” 

His stare lingers on yours for a long time, while he kind of curls inwards on himself as he takes a drag of your shared cigarette. If you were any kind of romantic, you would probably think that now is a good time to smack the cigarette out of his hand and kiss him, or something equally idiotic. Maybe hyperfocus on the fact that you’ve shared that cigarette multiple times, so you most definitely have him in your mouth already. That his lips are ridiculously pink, and look so lush and stupidly kissable. And if you were to kiss him, he’d probably taste just the same as you. Familiar. Desperate. 

But, you’re not. A romantic, that is. You don’t even really like him- of course not, you barely know him. You just… really like his hair. And his neck. And his hands, and fingers, and the way he holds himself, and how you’d really love to see the look in his eyes if you pushed him against the counter and took his cock in your mouth-

You don’t have the time or the energy for wishful thinking, so you let it drop, and you put the ring into your jacket pocket. “Just let me know when you want it back, yeah?”

“Sure. Just as soon as I figure out how to play ‘go fish’ by myself,” he snorts playfully, shaking his unopened deck of cards at you, but his eyes flicker down at your empty hand for half a second. Then, his tone gains a note of seriousness when he adds, “Hey, thanks. For everything. Really.”

“No problem, babe,” you chirp. You clap him on the shoulder, trying to pass off the gesture as just you being friendly, but you nearly stutter when you add, “Who the hell else am I gonna share half a beer with, y’know?”

Eddie nods with a small smile, but you can tell that there’s something on the tip of his tongue that he’s refusing to voice. When you leave the house, you feel a bit like you’re running away from a bomb about to detonate.

You don’t sleep anymore.

Well, you haven’t slept soundly in about a week. It’s getting more and more like you’re scared to, for fear of getting Vecna’d, or… or whatever the hell the kids are calling it now. You like to think you’ve mastered the art of staying awake, staring at the Aerosmith poster across from your bed and trying not to nod off. 

Maybe it’s a bad idea to deprive yourself of sleep, but until you know that everything’s okay and there isn’t a man-hungry, Freddie Kreuger-ass monster lurking around in the dark ready to crush your bones, you’d rather play it safe. It would be easier if you had someone to stay with you, but your only compatriots are all crashing in the Wheeler’s basement, or in a dilapidated house on the edge of town. You’re on your own. 

Or so you thought.

“Guys? Dustin? Wheeler? Code red, I repeat- ah shit- CODE RED-” 

You nearly jump out of your skin, scrambling up and out of bed to grab the walkie that you’d plunked down on the dresser top when you got home. You frantically tug the antenna up as Eddie continues babbling through the line.

“Eddie? What’s happened?”

“Oh thank Christ, it’s you,” he says, and his relief is apparent in his voice. “We’ve got a problem- A bunch of fuckin’ basketball players are here, they’re in the house, I think they’re looking for me-” 

Your foot catches on your messed up bedsheet as you stumble to grab a pair of flannel pajama pants. Hopping on one foot to pull them on, balancing the walkie in your other hand, you interject, “Okay, where are you?”

“In the boat.” 

“The boat?” 

“The boat, the fuckin’- the boathouse, man, the shed! I’m in the shed!”  

“All right, I’m on my way. Keep the walkie on you, talk to me if anything happens, okay?” You set the walkie down on your kitchen counter to finish pulling on your pants and grab a denim jacket off your footboard. 

“How the fuck did they find me?” 

“I don’t know.”

“What am I supposed to do?” 

“I don’t know, Eddie, just-” you trip down your doorstep to your car, fumbling with your keys. “Just try to relax. Is there some place nearby that you can safely go? Can you get to makeout point?”

“I’d have to go uphill.” 

“Can you get there?” You tear out onto the road, pushing 90 as you turn onto a back road and head toward the lake. 

“Yeah, I can- I can try.” 

“Meet me there. Go, now.”

The line goes dead for a solid ten minutes, and in that time you’re trying not to panic. Periodically banging the flat of your palm against the steering wheel, punching the accelerator as hard as it can take the heap of metal uphill toward makeout point. You tear past Reefer Rick’s house to see lights on in the windows, and what looks like Jason Carver’s car pulled up next to the porch, but you have no genuine ability to focus on anything other than getting to Eddie as soon as possible. 

Makeout point takes the form of a gap in the trees right in front of a scenic highway pullout. You jerk the car over onto the shoulder of the road and hit the brakes, lifting the walkie off the dashboard. 

“I’m here, Eddie, do you copy?”

Silence. You sit in it for a minute, heartbeat thudding in your chest and knee bouncing beneath the steering wheel. You start worrying that you might have to get out and hunt for him. You try to take stock of what all you have in the trunk to defend yourself, if Hawkins’ very own basketball playing cult-leader-in-the-making decides to try and attack you, too.

“Eddie, I swear to fucking god, if you’re dead I’m gonna kill you-” 

Eddie barrels out of the bushes towards the car, and fully dives headfirst through the passenger’s side window. 

“You couldn’t just open the fuckin’ door like a normal person?” you splutter, using one hand to try to steady him as he grunts and kicks his way into the front seat. 

“Nothing about this is normal- DRIVE!”  

You whip the car around, flying back down the hill towards town. You brake as you approach Reefer Rick’s, seeing a couple dark silhouettes loitering outside of the house. 

“Fuck, get down,” you hiss, yanking on the lapel of Eddie’s jacket. 

“What?”

“Get. Down.”  

Eddie grunts as he turns and face-plants directly into your lap, his nose digging into the meat of your thigh through your pajama pants. He gives a muffled whine of discomfort, shuffles around a bit, but relaxes once you place your hand solidly on the back of his head to keep him there. You don’t slow as you pass the house. You think you can make out Jason Carver’s blond head moving toward the boathouse, but you refuse to spend any time rubber-necking. 

“What the hell took you so long?” you ask as you release Eddie’s head. Your hand smooths over his tangled hair a bit as he pulls back from you.

He shoulders his way into a sitting position and reaches into his jacket to pull out a mangled golden package. “I knew you were lying when you said they weren’t expensive.”

“You went back for the fucking chocolates?” you wheeze, caught somewhere between absolutely livid and stupidly endeared to him. “You almost gave me a fucking heart attack!”

“Yeah? Well, how do you think I felt?” He tries to adjust his legs on his side of the car, but his knees knock against the glove box, regardless. “I had to launch the fucking boat to get them off my ass. Good thing I fixed that window, I could just slide it open and grab the box off the counter before I ran-”

“You could have just left them,” you argue with a roll of your eyes.

“I didn’t even get to open it! I wasn’t gonna waste them.” He huffs an indignant sigh and remains quiet for a few seconds, before he inevitably asks, “So, what’s the plan? Where are we going?”

“Big Rock Park.”

“The campground?” Eddie scoffs, snapping the sun visor on the passenger’s side up and out of the way so he can see the road, for what it’s worth. “Why would we go there?”

“It’s where I live.”

“You live at the campground?” Eddie turns his head and stares at you incredulously. You shoot him an annoyed glance.

“First of all, it’s a fucking RV resort, I pay monthly rent. Second, it’s complicated.”

“Complicated? Fucking try me, I’ve got a group of jocks trying to hunt me down, the cops after me, a brain-sucking killer monster sonofabitch who crumpled Chrissy Cunningham up like a piece of paper in my goddamn living room-” Eddie’s voice comes out shrill as he ticks off his different points on his fingers, which you can see out of the corner of your eye are shaking with nerves. “Can’t get a whole lot more complicated than that!”

You sigh, refraining from rolling your eyes again and trying to determine the best way to describe your living situation. “Senior year I was saving up for a car, I ended up buying the family camper off my parents so that I could move out instead. I keep it at the RV park, it’s nice, there’s a water hookup and I don’t have my parents breathing down my neck 24/7.” You shrug, adjusting your grip on the steering wheel. “My cousin dumped this piece of shit on me last year so I didn’t have to drive my house around when I needed to get to class at the college. So, yeah. I live at the campground, sure.”

You can feel his eyes on you, heavy like a lead weight on your shoulder. You sit in silence for a few more seconds before you grit your teeth. “What is it?”

“I just… didn’t expect you to do that, y’know. I mean, I always knew you had balls-” He scoffs, and when you glance at him, his eyes are glued to the road ahead. “I remember when you told Jordan Byrd to eat shit in the middle of the cafeteria in junior year for dumping chocolate milk on your shoes, and that was the most trouble you ever got into.”

“That you knew about.”

He shoots you a deadpan look. “I just always thought you were so… straight laced. Never thought you’d rather live in a fucking camper than with your folks, I guess. I mean, I’d love to be able to do that for myself,” he mutters. He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, and then gives you a half-hearted, sardonic smile. “Except now I actually have to somehow prove I’m not a murderer, or I’m gonna be arrested and then my life is over. So I guess that’s the last thing I should be worried about right now.”

“Fair enough,” you say as you finally pull into the RV park and cut the engine in front of your camper. “But maybe we should just focus on one thing at a time. Like getting you a shower. You smell like shit.”

He dramatically swoons before giving you a shit-eating grin. “Aw. Keep talking like that and I’ll start to think you really like me-”

“Or I could just leave you in the car.”

“Right.” He throws open the door. “I forgot, you don’t have a sense of humor.”

Eddie Munson is in your shower. 

You sit on the floor of your motorhome, back to the built-in fridge and legs sprawled across the floor, feet nearly touching the front door. You can hear the water running in the sad excuse of a bathroom cubicle, and the sound of the spray dulling out occasionally with each move he makes under it. It’s making your skin crawl and the short hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

He’s in your shower.   

Your discarded denim jacket hangs off the side of the bench that behaves as your sofa, just across from the booth that acts as your dining table. The gold foil package of overpriced chocolate that he stupidly risked his neck saving lays on the floor beside your hip. You're trying not to think of the fact that he’s naked on the other side of the door, in cramped quarters like this. The water on his naked skin, dripping down his torso and washing away the dirt and sweat from the last week. Him being forced to use the fruit-scented shampoo that you have, because up until this point it’s been only you. 

He’s in your shower. 

You rip your eyes from where they’ve gone a bit foggy, staring off into space at the open window above the microwave. You look down at your hands instead, in your lap, twirling the Ouroboros ring idly back and forth. It had fallen out of your jacket pocket when you took it off, and you didn’t have the heart to shove it away again. The snake is rather ornate, like it serves to prove a point. Even if it’s supposedly made of cheap metal, and it has no color other than its gleaming silver, it insists on standing out.

The sound of the water cuts out and only leaves the quiet noise of the local rock station playing Whitesnake on the transistor radio on your kitchen counter. You perk up a bit, your heart rate picking up speed as you hear a sort of wet rustling on the other side of the bathroom door, and then it pops open a crack. You see one of Eddie’s eyes, a flash of brown hair, and a white towel hung low on his hip. 

“Uh, do you have anything I can wear-?”

You snatch an extra pair of flannel pajama pants from the kitchen booth beside you and awkwardly try to jam it through the crack in the door. Eddie fumbles with it for a second before says a quick, “Thanks,” and all but slams the door shut. 

You try to collect yourself. Your face feels hot and you can almost feel your blood thrumming in your veins, and you go back to twirling the ring back and forth with more urgency this time. Fuck. Is this what it’s like to have a crush? It can’t be. You haven’t honestly had a crush on anyone since sophomore year, and it’s infuriating to think that Eddie Munson would be the one to call an end to your streak. 

Eddie pops his head out of the bathroom. “You don’t have any shirts, do you?”

“I don’t think any of mine would fit you, babe,” you mutter, pointedly not looking at his body. 

“Babe,” he echoes absently, like he’s trying to absorb the pet name. He hauls the wadded up pile of his previous outfit out of the bathroom and holds it up like it’s radioactive waste. “I got, uh… clothes.”

You blink, making eye contact with his knees. “Just toss them anywhere, I’ll do laundry tomorrow.”

Eddie tiptoes across your sprawled out legs and neatly tucks his pile of clothes into the kitchen booth before gracelessly plopping down onto the floor across from you. He lets out a long sigh, tilting his head back against the cabinet behind him and peering up through his lashes toward the ceiling. 

“We are so incredibly screwed, aren’t we?”

You turn your head towards him, and there isn’t a physical way that you can’t stare, now. Eddie’s hair is wiry and retains its curl when wet, long enough to hang down past his collarbone. His dark eyes are still pinned to the ceiling, but his head is tilted back, letting you get a good long look at his neck. His chest is riddled with small, discombobulated tattoos that range in style and color, like he just laid down on a table and told his friends to have a crack at doodling all over him. Which, if you’re honest, you could absolutely see him doing. 

You try to swallow down an uncomfortable dryness in your throat. The ring slips onto your thumb, and circles it with room to spare. “Maybe you are. I’m just the getaway driver, remember?”

His eyes find yours, but he doesn’t change the way his head is tilted, so he succeeds in looking down his nose at you and giving you a cheshire cat smile. “Aiding and abetting is a pretty serious crime, sweetheart. If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me.”

You make an ugly snort-scoffing sound, swiping the box of chocolates up off the ground and roughly ripping it open. “Why do you insist on calling me that?”

“Why do you call me ‘babe?’”

“I- hhhh.” You grunt in irritation, digging a single chocolate out of the box and shoving it into your mouth while you try to think of an answer to that. “I call everyone ‘babe.’”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do!”

“You don’t call Harrington ‘babe,’” Eddie points out, a little smirk on his face as he takes the box of chocolates from you to dig one out for himself. “Or Nancy. I think you called Robin ‘honey’ once, but you were being sarcastic.”

“Well, maybe none of them get on my nerves like you do,” you snap. “Why are you paying so goddamn much attention to what I call people, anyways?

He dramatically clutches his hand to his chest like you’ve mortally wounded him. “I? Get on your nerves? Impossible. You’re the most patient person I’ve ever met. Why, if I had all the ability in the world, I’m sure I still couldn’t get under that skin,” he proclaims with an over exaggeratedly deep voice. Noticing you shaking your head at a pathetic attempt to argue without saying anything, he outright laughs. “Honestly! If I get on your nerves so much, then why are you the one who brings me shit? Why’d you go out of your way to get me these expensive chocolates- which are really fucking good, by the way- and then save my ass from almost certain death?”

“Not certain death,” you grumble down at the box.

“Certain death,” he insists. “Why? If I’m so incredibly infuriating to you?”

“Because the others didn’t want to, and I’m not heartless.” Your voice is snippy and hinting at your distress. There’s a harsh ache in your chest, and the more you stare at him, the more you want to reach out and grab him. 

“Mhm, and is that why you also stuck around to smoke with me every time?” Eddie asks with a sing-songy tone.

“No, I did that because I like-” Catching yourself about to admit something you can’t take back, you interrupt yourself with a swift breath, and accidentally inhale a bit of chocolate. It takes a few awkward seconds for you to clear your throat, and you try hard to act normal, but he just has this way of not blinking when he’s focused on something, and right now that something is you.

“‘Because you like’ what?” He nudges your knee with his once you stop coughing like an idiot. You lift your eyes to meet his, finding a softness in them that you aren’t used to. “Go on.”

“Because I like…” you trail off, your eyes falling to a tattoo on his shoulder, half hidden by his hair. You lose your train of thought, squinting at the mark. “Ouroboros.”

“What?”

You shuffle onto your knees, shoving yourself forward to get a closer look. “Your tattoo,” you say as you move his hair out of the way and touch the ink on his skin. It’s small, it’s no wonder you didn’t notice it immediately, but it’s very obviously an Ouroboros, a snake swallowing its own tail to match the ring on your thumb.

“Oh.” Eddie lets out a laugh that sounds a touch nervous. “Well- yeah. Eternal life and all. It’s my favorite.”

“Yeah,” you breathe, and your hand falls to rest on his chest as you start examining each of his tattoos. There’s a rabbit, a winged skull, a spade; as your fingers trail down his chest, you feel his breathing getting a little bit faster. “I think it’s my favorite, too.”

He sits still for a moment, his dark eyes watching your fingers as they ghost across his skin, outlining each of his tattoos as you scrutinize them. He says your name, quietly; it’s barely even a whisper, but it comes from so deep in his chest that it emboldens you to continue, to shuffle in closer and let yourself explore him. It’s only when you reach one at the edge of his ribs that his hand catches your wrist, and his fingers completely circle it. 

“You’re wearing it,” he observes quietly, his thumb brushing to touch the loose-fitting Ouroboros swinging freely around your own. 

Your gaze snaps to his, and he’s staring at you now, not his hand on your wrist or your hand as it rests against the flat of his stomach. You think you could drown in the look that he’s giving you. 

“‘Because you like’ what?” Eddie asks. “Tell me. I want to hear you say it.”

“I like you,” you say in a rushed exhale, and once it’s out in the air, the words keep flowing like you’ve opened the floodgates. “I like spending time with you. And your stupid, pretty face. And all your tattoos that I could spend hours memorizing. And the way you blow smoke into my face because you know I won’t say anything, and the way you drink the absolute worst brand of beer, and the way you make me want to kiss you speechless.”

He ghosts a finger across your forehead, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “So, what are you waiting for?”

Your mouth hovers over his. His breath hits your lips, and it occurs to you to move into his lap, to straddle him, but you don’t quite manage to get that far before his forefinger hooks under your chin, and he kisses you. 

Or, something like that. Rather, you sort of attack each others’ faces.

There’s something cathartic about it, and not worrying about it being good so much as it finally fucking happening, like you’ve just taken a sledgehammer to that last remaining wall between you. Eddie tastes like tobacco and chocolate and he makes a soft grunt into your mouth, and you don’t think it has to be perfect, because nothing about the situation or the two of you is. 

Your hands scramble up his chest for something to hold onto, to tug him closer or just keep him there against you. They settle around his neck, getting him in a loose-laced chokehold that makes him stiffen and moan into your mouth. His Adam's apple jumps against your thumb. It’s a good thing that you didn’t manage to crawl into his lap at the last second, because Eddie’s hands come up to cup your face, and he lays you down on the floor as you pant into his open mouth. 

His hands adjust the angle of your head, his tongue licking at yours, and it occurs to you that this is Munson- Eddie “the Freak” Munson- and you really shouldn’t like him, or the way he’s absolutely devouring your mouth. But you do. You like him so much, you could scream it. 

“Christ, you’re so fucking gorgeous- and I want to kiss you all over- and I could just fucking- eat you alive,” Eddie rambles at you, staggered between kisses that steal the breath from your lungs. 

Your legs open around his hips, and by some unconscious instinct you tug him further in. Your fingers dig at his shoulder blades until the bulge in his pajama pants presses up against the crux of your thighs. You didn’t realize that your distracted touch on his chest turned him on as much as it did, but you can feel your effect on him clear as day. A desperate whine leaves your throat as you slowly grind your hips up against his, letting the hard length of his cock drag over your clothed pussy. 

Eddie groans, a sharp and dangerous warning sound that echoes in his chest and vibrates on your lips. He breaks away from you with a whispered, “Goddamn it,” and then his teeth graze your neck. 

You hiccup as his tongue drags along the slope of your neck, and his teeth catch on the hem of your camisole at the same time your hands plant themselves on the back of his skull to keep him there. He makes a quiet mmph, but he doesn’t stop, his breath ghosting against your breast and his damp hair tickling your skin. 

Fuck. You don’t even know what you’re doing, just that he makes you nervous. And not in a bad way either, but more in a can’t-fucking-think way. Especially when he’s dragging his lips softly over the lace at the neckline of your top, and his eyes are focused on your face, and his hand is settling on your waistband so you know where he’s going with this.

And his mouth leaves you just long enough for him to yank the neckline of your camisole down, and you barely have time to register the cool air before your nipple is engulfed in heat. 

Air stalls in your chest, an animalistic noise coming out of your mouth as if you’ve become possessed. It takes every last bit of your mental ability to articulate, “I’m never gonna take the ring off, now.”

“Don’t.” Eddie’s voice has taken on the darkest tone you’ve ever heard, so much that you nearly swear it couldn’t come from him. Your hands tangle into the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’ll give you every one of my rings if it means I can have you like this.”

Heat blooms in your cheeks, and lower, where your body is screaming for him to move his hand away from your hip and inwards. “Eddie, baby-”

“I want to taste you,” he murmurs, then presses a slow, sensual kiss to your exposed nipple. “Do you want me to?”

Hm. Do you want Eddie Munson to go down on you? The question pings around in your skull for a moment due to the absurdity of it, that he would even think to ask- 

“Y-yeah?”

Eddie breaks into the cheekiest grin you’ve seen him wear, one that lights up his entire face and makes his eyes shine like polished obsidian. And then he foregoes any formality, and positively rips your pants down your legs, taking your underwear with them. 

“Jesus Christ,” you gasp, jerking your legs to help him get them off. You expect a quip from him in return, something about not being shy, or  relaxing, but he doesn’t say anything else. He’s entirely focused on wedging himself between your legs and dipping his tongue through the soaked folds of your pussy. 

Eddie fucking moans . He moans, and you latch onto his hair with an iron grip that you didn’t even realize you had. The world tilts- or maybe it’s just your back arching off the ground and your eyes rolling backwards into your head. Either way, you can’t rip your focus from the gentle sucks and nips he’s giving you. 

His lithe body pushes further in towards you, until your legs are folded over his bare shoulders and you’re crowded up against the kitchenette. You can’t seem to take a fucking breath around all the hoarse cries coming out of your throat. It honestly sounds like you’re sobbing, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you lifted your hand to find tears forming in your eyes. 

Broad hands come up to caress your thighs, giving you almost comforting strokes as you roll your hips against his face. As if he could possibly get you to relax, unless he pulled his mouth away from you- which, you think if he did right now, you might kill him. You can feel how wet he has you already, and his tongue is no better. Slick and hot as fire, and making your toes curl against his back with every small circle he makes over your clit. 

And then. You make the mistake of opening your eyes. 

He’s all rosy cheeks on pale skin, dark hair and round eyes blown wide and black. Staring at you, reading your every microexpression from under his lashes as a flash of pink juts out of his mouth and eagerly laps at your cunt. 

It should be fucking illegal to be this pretty. Somehow, Eddie does it so effortlessly, and you could die trying to fight how it affects you. 

“Eddie, waitwaitwait- hoh fuck-” you gasp, fingers clawing at his head, as he takes his fucking time pulling away from you while you’re spiralling toward oblivion against his mouth. It takes a forceful push against his forehead to get him to pull back just slightly, and he’s out of breath by the time his head rests against your thigh. 

“You all right, sweetheart?” He murmurs from between your legs, and he nearly sounds more aroused than you do. 

You blink dazedly up at the ceiling for a few seconds before you collect your wits. “You were gonna make me come, and I just- I wanna fuck you so bad.”

You can practically hear the smirk on his face when he coos, “You wanna fuck me? Right here on the dirty floor?”

You take a second to think of a response to that. You could move back into the nook where your bed is, but why bother? “You were already halfway there.”

A low noise rumbles in his chest. “I can still finish what I started, if you want.”

The tip of his tongue traces a gentle, teasing line through your folds, enough to make you squirm and dig your heel into his back. “Eddie please-” you whine so pitifully, you’re not even sure the sound came from your own mouth, “god, I’m gonna come and- and I want you to feel it-”

Eddie hisses through his teeth like he’s in pain. “Fuck. God fucking damn it,” he swears, and his hands leave your thighs before you see him run one through his hair. “All right, sweetheart. You win. Dunno how the hell I’m ever gonna be able to say no to you.”

Eddie sits back on his knees, straightening up so that you can admire the entirety of his lean frame. He’s a bit on the willowy side, but he has soft areas where you know just from touching him that muscle lurks underneath. His thumbs hook on his waistband, then reaches within to lift his erection out, and his gaze settles heavily on yours. “Is this what you wanted?”

You blink at him. As if he needs to ask, when your entire body is shaking as you’re biting your lip, staring at him fisting his cock. “I… stop stalling and come. Here.” 

Slowly- too slowly for your liking- Eddie does what he’s told. You can’t help but feel like he’s being a little bit cocky now that he has the upper hand, biting down on his lip before they come level with your own. The huff of a laugh that he makes billows across your skin. “Needy.”

You whimper high in your throat as he presses in, feeling like you could tell him exactly how needy you are, how you have been for him this entire time. If only you could get the words out, but he sinks his cock into you so deep that you can’t think, you can barely even breathe. He stretches you so wide, makes you so full that you swear you can feel him in the back of your throat. 

It’s absolute heaven. 

Eddie grits his teeth, rocking his hips into yours just a bit sharper so that you fling your legs around his waist. “Been thinking about this,” he groans into your shoulder, while you’re naturally unable to answer him. “Thought about fucking you on Rick’s floor- I would have. God, I fucking wanted to. Didn’t think- fuck- didn’t think you’d go for it-”

“Eddie-!” Your voice is too shrill. Is that your voice? You can’t tell anymore, your ability to articulate anything other than his name feels like it's entirely left you. Your hands are tangled in his hair and clawing long marks along his shoulder blade, your lungs punching out hard and hollow gasps each time he reaches the end of you. 

You know that he can be gentle when he wants to be. You know. Which is why you know that he’s not trying to be gentle with you now, and you aren’t entirely sure if it’s a punishment or a reward for finally letting him do this to you. 

And, perhaps his cruelest trick of all- his hand comes up to clasp around your throat, as your head is tilted back against the hard floor. The metal of his rings dig into your skin, not enough to cause pain, but just to let you know they’re there. To remind you that one of them is missing. 

Eddie’s thumb presses into your mouth, until you can taste the salt of his sweat on your tongue. He spits out a curse when you mindlessly close your lips around it, letting your teeth scrape his skin as he drives his hips into yours. 

“That’s it,” he whispers, and his mouth is so close to your ear that you feel his breath fan against it. “That’s my good girl.”

Oh god, he really is a dream. It’s the only way you know that you’re still here, that Vecna hasn’t gotten to you yet. You couldn’t make this up, and you couldn’t imagine any nightmare where this takes place. 

Eddie lifts his head to look at you, and you know you’re done for. Sinful heat sinks low in your gut, ripe and pinpointed between your legs, and you clench desperately around him. He’s so pretty. So pretty, so pretty, so pretty. It plays on a loop in your head like a scratched record, until you’re almost certain he’s ransacked your brain and superimposed every one of your thoughts with it. 

“Oh, she’s gonna come, isn’t she?” He muses, a bit breathless. A smile stretches across his face, dimples appearing on his cheeks. “Go on, sweetheart. You wanted me to feel it- let me.”

You sob brokenly, biting down on his intrusive thumb in your mouth as your orgasm splinters through you. It’s so good, so strong that it nearly hurts. Your hips jolt up to meet his on their own, entirely separated from where your mind is, in the clouds. 

You hear him swear again, this time more of a primal growl than an actual word, and he rips his thumb out of your mouth with a soft pop. You manage to whimper, before Eddie dips down to groan his own release into your open mouth, smothering you in a kiss as he comes. 

Eyes closed, your senses are almost entirely dampened to everything except the feeling of Eddie’s elbow buckling under him, and his body pressing in on top of you. You feel like you’re floating, despite his weight anchoring you down. His breath on your neck and his little mumbled praises that go in one ear and out the other as he rolls off to the left. 

It takes his hand on your face to finally rouse you from the stupor he put you in, and even then, you expend twice as much energy than normal trying to open your eyes to him. 

He lays beside you, head resting on the fake wood floor. Thumb stroking the side of your face, he smiles affectionately at you. “Hey there, pretty girl.”

You can’t really bring yourself to give him much more than a sleepy smile and a weak ‘mm.’ Your legs are tangled in his, the warm, wet mess of his spend seeping out from between your thighs. It feels dirty, and sort of fucked up, and yet…

This was always going to happen. Whether it happened here, or happened at Rick’s, or if sometime in the future it happens at his place. On the dirty floor, in the kitchen. Because that’s just the way you are with him.

“‘Low charisma’ my ass,” you manage to croak at him, your eyes sluggishly refusing to stay open. 

He blinks at you. You watch the wheels turn in his head, watch him connect the dots between your words and the ones he said to you two days ago. Then, he just looks… enamored. Like he didn’t expect you to have been listening to him, to remember whatever nerdy thing he’d mentioned off the cuff. 

Eddie tuts, his fingers soothing over your sticky, hot skin. “We have to get up, baby. Shouldn’t sleep on the floor.”

“Can’t sleep.”

“What?”

“I can’t sleep,” you repeat, slurring your words tiredly. “Haven’t been able to for a while… too scared…”

“Well, that’s because you didn’t have me.” Eddie pats your cheek softly, and the quiet timbre of his voice threatens to lull you further, rather than wake you. “C’mon. I tell really good bedtime stories.”

You whine grumpily as he pulls you up, clumsily maneuvering you past the bathroom stall and into the nook at the very back of the motor home that acts as your bedroom. “How the hell’d you get a whole fuckin’ bed in here?” he mutters in disbelief as he packs you into it. At some point you guess he decided he didn’t need the pajama pants anymore, and crawls in beside you entirely naked. 

“Eddie?” you ask, as you feel him tucking your rumpled sheets around you. “Can we do this, like, every night?”

“Depends. Do you want to wake up to me every morning?”

You blink your eyes open at him, so appalled that you almost entirely wake back up. He’s looking blankly back at you, like he doesn’t exactly grasp the weight of what he just said. 

“Eddie, I-” you stammer, looking for the fucking words to express how you feel about him. “I-I didn’t think I was even going to get this far. You have no idea how much I want to… fucking… I want to wake up to you every morning. Yeah. I do. Stupid fucking pretty face and all. Making me lose my mind. Bitch.”

Eddie snorts loudly, and pulls you close to him as he holds in his laughter, pressing a kiss between your eyes. “There’s my girl. I’ll stick around until you get sick of me, sweetheart. I promise.” He picks up your hand and laces your fingers together, letting the metal of his rings clack against the one around your thumb. 

You hum contentedly. “You better.”

“Now, shut up and close your eyes. I’m gonna tell you a story.” You begrudgingly do as he says, sighing as you melt into the warmth of his body. “‘In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat-’ Why are you laughing? What?”

You crack your eyes open, body shaking as you giggle with your lips pressed together. “Are you reciting The Hobbit?” 

“Yeah.”

“From heart?”

“...Yeah.” Eddie blinks, a rosy blush coloring his cheeks. “I know the first three chapters.”

You choke down another fit of giggles. “Eddie?”

“Mm?”

“I’m in fuckin’ love with you.”

Glasses (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist

Eddie Munson x Reader w/ glasses (She/Her)

Warnings: None

Tag list: DM or comment if you wanna be on the Eddie tag list!:)

Synopsis: Eddie always steals Y/N’s glasses, but what would happen if she finally stood up for herself?

I’m taking Eddie x Reader requests atm so feel free to request something!:)

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Safe with me Masterlist

Summary: When an unknown threat enters your life, protection is offered at the highest level. As Bucky Barnes comes into your life, the game changes, and you realise falling for the man tasked with keeping you safe is the last thing you expected.     

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Sunflower

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When Y/N joins the team, Bucky isn’t fond of her but as time goes on, she begin to form bond with the team and with him.

Warning: Swearing, torture, violence, death

Words: 20,971

A/N: All translations were made using Google, so sorry if they are wrong! This is also my first Marvel fic, and my first Bucky fic, so all feedback is welcome!

Master List   Tag List

May

You’re nervous. Your palms sweat, even with the air conditioner pumping through the compound, and your heartbeat is elevated. You know that your presence is allowed but you don’t know whether they will accept you. After all, you were part of one of the most atrocious organisations that had ever existed.

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alight with the lights out | diego hargreeves x reader [tua]

A/N: Thank you for all of your interest after I posted the teaser! It was VERY surprising and humbling; I’ve NEVER had so many people ask for a tag before. I only ask that if you asked for a tag, you interact with this fic SOMEHOW. And go find another story you love and REBLOG IT! LET THAT WRITER KNOW YOU LOVE THEM!

I’ll be honest, I’m very nervous about this one. I’m not sure if it turned out as good on paper as it did in my head. Please let me know what you liked and what you didn’t!

Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x vigilante, powered!Reader; this one may read a bit more like an OC because I’ve given the reader backstory, powers. She’s (you’re) a vigilante who regularly runs into Diego. I keep the physical description vague, so I hope you can still imagine yourself! 

Warnings: Language; who doesn’t love getting a little sweary? Violence, fighting, references to a shitty childhood, and separately, implied sexual assault (nothing graphic, I promise); angst and angsty dialogue; SMUT– 18+ ONLY PLEASE; lots of cocktease dialogue, fingering, pierced nipples (the reader’s not Diego’s– sorry), biting, rough sex, choking. Romance is its own warning. Fluff.

Word Count: 12.1k of sexy, self-righteous vigilantism, half-baked metaphor and of course, at least one literary reference. 

Summary: Diego Hargreeves, aka The Kraken, is secure about few things in life; one of those things being his vigilantism. He’s a hero. Until he meets a fighter who shares the same hobby, albeit with different methodologies. Diego isn’t quite as certain about her, but her mysterious abilities make him think he and his siblings aren’t the only ones in this world with power. If only she and Diego could just stay out of each others’ hair. It’s a good, old-fashioned ENEMIES TO LOVERS, lads!

Link to my playlist of songs that inspired this fic: here

NOT MY GIF

—-

You wouldn’t hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. That was rule number one. Hell, if you could get away with it at all, you wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

But Mr. Adler hated children. And he had made it his mission to not understand you. To regard you with the utmost disdain. And unfortunately for you, Mr. Adler had married your mother when you were six years old. 

You had never known another father. Your mother refused to talk about the circumstances of your birth, or of the man who had supposedly been responsible. The lack of identity loomed like a large question mark over certain portions of your life. 

And Mr. Adler, that loud, controlling lout, was not about to fill that void. 

When you were in elementary school, you began to feel like you were different from the other children. Watching them carry about their days with their steel-pressed pop culture lunch boxes and not a care in the world. While you sensed your music teacher’s sadness when her cat had died. You could feel every anxiety that passed through your classmates on the day of a spelling test. You didn’t know why you could feel these things. You just could.

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Teddy Bear

Summary: soulmate!au in which when one soulmate loses something, their other half finds it. 

When Bucky begins finding things that don’t belong to him, he realizes he has a soulmate in the modern world after all. Even though they should be perfectly matched, he struggles to find a reason why he should meet her, and be a part of her life, convincing himself she’s better off without him. 

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 4175

Warnings: Mentions of some WS stuff, nothing graphic. 

Author’s Note: Thank you to my lovely Tanya @velvetofyourheart for gracing me with the idea for this fic. I hope you all like it!

Lost things don’t float into the ether. They don’t remain in the world of dropped chapsticks, misplaced rings, forgotten jackets on park benches.

They arrive, sooner or later, in the hands of someone that will keep them safe. People delight in the fact that their soulmates things come to them for safekeeping. It’s like getting a small gift from the person that’s meant for you.

Bucky had thought he was mateless. Had prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that he didn’t have a soulmate. He certainly didn’t have one before.

Before the war, before the fall, before he died and suffered and was reborn.

And he had been confused when objects he didn’t own first started appearing after. He thought any mate he could have had would be long dead, though he remembers being disappointed day after day when he never found anything that wasn’t his own.

Piles of handwritten letters, a necklace, a shoelace, a bottle of nail polish, hair tie after hair tie after hair tie. One sneaker, a journal, homework.

Mostly though, his soulmate seems to lose letters.

Purposefully, it would seem.

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Harmless Masterlist

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, series)

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A Day in the Life

won't even apologise for the bucky spree i've been on lately. have another one.

so i've been daydreaming about being bucky's housewife a lot, and i just wanted to write something about what a day in the life of bucky's housewife would be like. so here it is.

Content Warning: CEO!Bucky x Housewife!Reader, domestic fluff, slight angst but no conflict, sad!steve rogers but he'll be fine, dirty talk, smut (daddy kink, mommy kink, dom!bucky x sub!reader, handjob, fingering, role-playing, breeding kink, penetrative sex, lactation kink), aftercare, soft!bucky.

A handful of peanuts are put into a small container and slotted into the lunch bag, along with a homemade Italian sub sandwich, hummus, pita chips, and some strawberries which you cut to look like hearts. You also pack a bottle of peach iced tea which you've decorated with a few heart-shaped stickers, before zipping up the bag and giving it a proud smile.

The dishwasher behind you hums with the sound of the breakfast dishes being washed, and the smell of coffee from the thermos fills the air.

It's the start of a great day.

You light up when Bucky enters the kitchen in his suit with his briefcase in hand, shooting you a wink as he walks over. "Ready?" You ask him, pushing his lunchbag and thermos towards him.

"Mhm," He replies with a smile, walking over to give you a kiss. It's short and sweet and he rests his forehead against yours once he pulls away. "Don't wanna go."

"Then don't," You whisper coyly, holding onto the hem of his freshly-pressed suit jacket. "Call in sick and stay with me all day."

He chuckles at your words, pulling your body closer to his. "I wish I could, peanut, but I have that big meet-"

"Meeting with Mr. Barton, I know," You finish with an eye roll, before smiling up at him. "I made your favorite for lunch."

"I love you," Bucky mumbles, kissing you again. "Wish I could just take you with me. Sit you on my desk so I have something pretty to look at all day."

"But then all your coworkers would be jealous," You tease him.

"Oh, they would," He agrees with a smirk. "Jealous that I have the prettiest little wife in the whole world."

"Sap," You mumble, hitting his shoulder lightly. "What time will you be back?"

"Should be home by 6," He tells you, making you pout.

"That's so long away," You whine immaturely.

"Let me make you feel good, daddy," You whisper back as his hard cock pulses against your palm. You take it out of his pants before leaning forward to spit on it, making him shiver. Your spit and his pre cum mix together as you begin to stroke his length, making him shudder.

"I know, peanut, but time will fly by," Bucky promises you before kissing you again, deeper this time. His hands roam your waist before moving down to grab your ass, making your stomach flutter. You trail your hand down his chest until you meet his belt buckle, which you unfasten. "Baby, what're you doing?" He whispers, biting his lip when you slip your hand under his boxers.

He grabs the counter on either side of you, boxing you in as his jaw falls slack. "Oh, fuck," He groans, bucking his hips slightly. "Just like that, oh God, don't stop."

You move a little faster, knowing you're pressed for time and not wanting to make him late for work. To speed him up, you press your lips to his neck, taking advantage of how well you know his body and making him whine as you suck on his sensitive spot.

"Baby, fuck," He moans as his eyes roll back. "I'm gonna cum."

"Cum for me, daddy, please," You beg him playfully. "I need your cum."

Your words push him over the edge and before long, his seed spills out. Some of it shoots out onto your thigh, but the rest you catch in your palm as you continue to stroke him through his high. His dick throbs in your hand as his whole body shudders, grunts leaving his mouth. Once he's spent, you wipe your hand on a tissue, smiling up at him.

"You're so naughty," He utters lowly between heavy breaths, chuckling. "My naughty little girl, aren't you?"

"Can't help it, daddy," You say innocently while zipping his pants back up and buckling his belt. "It's your fault for being so hot."

Smirking, he pushes you against the counter before lifting up your short dress. "My naughty girl deserves to feel good, too," He mumbles, stroking your inner thigh.

"You're gonna be late, Jamie," You warn him, glancing at the clock on the wall.

"I don't care," He growls as he finds your heat, chuckling. "No panties. Just like I've taught you, hmm?"

Your breath shakes as he scoops up his cum from your leg, before using his free hand to spread apart your folds. With his eyes locked on yours, he rubs his cum over your clit, making your stomach flutter.

"James," You whimper, clinging onto the counter behind you.

"Shh, it's okay, peanut," He whispers softly as he continues circling your bud. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

"So good," You reply weakly, lifting up your leg to give him better access to your pussy.

He moves his fingers down to your entrance, biting his lip when he feels your warm juices coating and soaking it. With ease, two of his fingers slip into you, making you wince at the width as he spreads you open.

"My pretty little pussy feels so fuckin' tight around my fingers," He groans into your ear. "Always so tight for me. Fuckin' hell."

He starts fucking his fingers in and out of you rhythmically, curling them upwards every so often and making you squirm. The knuckle of his thumb rubs against your clit, making your core burn with delight. You cry out loudly as he hits your spot deep inside you, making your legs shake.

"That's it, baby, sing for me," He grunts, fingering you faster. "Your moans are so fucking sexy. Fuck." He licks his lips as he watches your face contort in pleasure, a proud smirk blooming on his lips. "That's it. Breathe deeply for me, baby, deep breaths. That's it."

Your entire body feels like it's floating as he coaxes you to the edge, expertly playing with your pussy the way only he knows how. With a loud cry of his name, you throw your head back as the floodgates burst open.

"Cumming, daddy," You all but squeal as your cunt clenches around his fingers, juices flowing out of you.

"That's my girl," He praises you before kissing you deeply as you fly through your high. "Just like that, doing so well for me."

You breathe heavily as you slowly come down, your eyelids drooping with fatigue. Bucky wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly, pressing soft kisses to your neck and shoulder. The two of you stay in the blissful peace for a few moments, your hearts beating as one. He strokes your hair and you cling to his torso, never wanting to let go.

"Could stay like this forever," Bucky whispers, swaying you gently.

Looking over his shoulder at the clock, you sigh. "You're gonna be so late," You warn him.

"Just a few more minutes," He begs, holding you even tighter. You have no choice but to give in, obsessed with his smell and touch and embrace.

A few more minutes pass and you pull away, pushing his shoulders back. "Alright, bubba, you need to go," You say sternly. "You have to prepare for the Barton meeting."

He groans with an eye roll, but he knows you're right. Giving you another kiss, he pats your ass. "Alright. Alright, you're right," He utters with defeat.

You pick up his lunch bag and follow him through to the door to the large garage. When he opens it, cool air washes over you, making you shiver.

"What do you think?" He asks as he glances over the hooks of keys. "Who should I take out today?"

Thinking it over, you tilt your head. "Take Krissi- no, take Mason. He hasn't been out in a while; he's probably feeling neglected."

"You're right," Bucky mumbles, grabbing the keys to the black Maserati Ghibli.

"Here you go," You say sweetly, holding out his lunch bag.

"Thank you, peanut," He says appreciatively, leaning forward to kiss you. "I love you."

"I love you more, Jay," You reply sweetly, booping his nose.

"I won't be able to call you until 2 today, because of the meeting," He informs you, stroking your hip.

Pouting, you nod. "Okay, bubba," You reply, kissing him once more before he starts to walk away. "Good luck with Barton!"

"Send me pictures if you do end up going shopping with Wanda," He calls out to you as he walks past the row of cars to get to Mason the Maserati. "And if Coulson comes over to check on the security system, tell him to make a note of everything he does."

"I will," You promise, leaning against the doorway as he opens the car door. "Drive safe!"

"I love you, peanut," He says once more, blowing you a kiss before getting into the car.

You watch as the garage door opens and Bucky carefully backs out. He beeps the horn twice before driving away, and you wait until the garage door is fully shut before leaving, with a love-drunk smile on your face.

Bucky returns home at around 5:45, after rushing to get back to you. He parks the car in its spot in the garage before making his way into the house, the smell of your cooking immediately wafting over him and making his stomach grumble.

He wanders over to the kitchen where he knows you'll be, the sound of soft music and the blade against a cutting board inviting him in. "I'm home, peanut," He calls out, not wanting to scare the life out of you like he has done many times before when he walked in unannounced.

When he enters, he sees you at the counter chopping up tomatoes, but you're not alone. Steve is standing with his arm around your shoulder, watching closely as you finely cut up the salad ingredients.

You look up at him, your eyes lighting up. "Jamie!"

"Hey, baby," He greets you, walking over to where you and Steve are standing. He places his lunch bag on the counter before leaning forward to give you a kiss, pushing Steve off of you. Embracing you, he lifts you off the ground for a few seconds, holding you tight.

"Hi," You mumble with a wide grin once he puts you back down. "Missed you."

"Missed you more," Bucky replies sweetly before giving Steve narrow eyes. "I thought you were sick."

He shrugs sheepishly, leaning back against the sink. "Didn't wanna go work," He says casually.

Bucky raises a brow. "Probably not the best thing to say to your boss, punk."

"Where's my kiss?" Steve asks, returning to wrap his arm around your shoulder.

"Right here," Bucky replies, grabbing his chin and kissing his cheek before slapping him lightly. "Kiss my wife and you and I will have a problem, Rogers."

Laughing softly, you shake your head before gasping. "How did the meeting go?" You ask, returning to your salad cutting.

"It went great," He tells you proudly, shooting Steve a bitter glance. "Would've gone a lot smoother if my CFO was there, but we survived."

"Anyone can read out numbers," Steve claims flippantly. "You didn't need me."

"Idiot," Bucky mutters, before taking a few steps back. "I'm gonna go wash up. Back in ten."

Although he wants to be annoyed that he isn't getting the quality alone time with you that he's been looking forward to all day, Bucky can't be mad at Steve. Ever since the divorce proceedings begun, he's been sensitive and withdrawn, so you and Bucky have done your best to be there for him.

Once he's showered and changed into some comfortable clothes, Bucky returns downstairs where he can hear Steve's yelps. The kitchen is empty so he walks into the living room, where you're sitting on the couch with Steve's head on your lap while you tweeze his brows.

"Ow!" The blond cries, to which you roll your eyes.

"Hold still, Stevie," You mutter, concentrating on plucking the stray hairs. "It doesn't hurt that bad."

"Easy for you to say," He grumbles bitterly, wincing when you pull out another hair.

Bucky comes to sit behind you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "Hi, peanut," He whispers into your ear. "How was your day?"

"It was good," You reply, pulling out another few hairs while Steve whimpers. "Didn't go shopping, but I did get lunch with Happy and May."

"You third-wheeled? How embarassing," Steve teases you, making you and Bucky roll your eyes.

"Did Coulson come over?" Bucky asks you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

"Not today," You tell him. "He called and said he's coming on Friday, instead."

"Really? This Friday?" Bucky asks you with a frown.

"Yeah," You confirm. "Why? Is that a problem?"

Bucky bites his lip. He was planning on whisking you away to Italy for the weekend on Friday morning to celebrate the anniversary of the day he proposed to you, but he can't tell you that.

"Uh, Fridays are statistically when most break-ins happen, so I don't want him messing around with the security in case he fucks the system up," He excuses quickly. "I'll call him later and ask him to come next week, instead."

Raising a brow, you let out a laugh. "Uh, okay then," You say, before patting Steve's shoulder. "All done, Rogers."

"Finally," He breathes out with relief.

"So, are you going shopping with Wanda tomorrow, instead?" Bucky asks, rubbing your shoulders soothingly.

"Uh, I don't know, why?" You question him while playing with Steve's hair. "Do you need me to get you something?"

He needs you to get your fucking nails done for the trip, but he can't tell you that.

"Yes, actually," He claims. "Uh, cufflinks. I need a new pair."

You turn to look at him, a look of dejection in your eyes. "Oh. Did- do you not like the ones I got for your birthday? Do you want me to exchange them?"

He inwardly curses himself at his blunder. Of course I fucking like the cufflinks with your damn initials on them, peanut. "Did I say cufflinks?" He asks, feigning confusion. "I'm such an idiot; I meant... tie. I want a new tie."

"You want a new tie?" You ask, while Steve, who knows of Bucky's plan, struggles to keep in his laughs.

"Yes, I want a new tie, and I want my pretty baby to pick it out," Bucky says firmly. "For the party next weekend."

"Oh, okay," You agree with a growing smile. "Then I'll buy you the best damn tie you'll ever wear."

"I know you will," He replies lowly, kissing your cheek.

"Shit," You hiss suddenly, pushing Steve off your lap. "I need to check on the food!"

With that, you rush into the kitchen, with Bucky following you in. "What's for dinner?" He asks, watching as you take a dish out of the air fryer.

"Fried chicken," You answer him with a grin. "And potato wedges."

While you mix the salad, Bucky comes up behind you, stroking your hips. His hand slips up your blouse, where he pulls down your bra cup and grabs your boob. With his mouth at your ear, he strokes his thumb over your nipple, making you shudder. "I wanna be inside you so bad, baby," He whispers, making you shiver.

"Jay," You whine, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Before he can do anything else, Steve walks in, making Bucky pull your bra back up and take his hands off of you. You catch your breath while looking down at the salad, trying to regain your composure.

"Smells incredible," Steve says with a grin.

"Could you grab the wedges out of the oven?" You request while continuing to mix the salad, to which he complies.

Bucky steps closer to you and gently grabs your hands, turning you to face him. "You go ahead and sit down at the table, peanut; Steve and I will dish up."

"No, bubba, you go sit down," You insist. "You've been working all day-"

"So have you, now go sit down," He repeats firmly. "Don't make me say it again."

Defeated, you give in, leaning up to kiss him quickly before making your way into the adjacent dining area. You take a seat at the head of the table and pour yourself some water before realizing there's no wine.

"Steve, could you go grab a bottle from the wine cellar?" You call out to the kitchen. "I hate going down there alone."

"Sure thing, ma'am," Steve replies, making his way out to you.

"Just grab whatever you want," You tell him nonchalantly as he treks over to the cellar door.

Sticking his head out the kitchen door with a dish cloth over his shoulder, Bucky raises a brow. "No, Steve - grab the '95 Sassicaia," He corrects pointedly, to which you roll your eyes.

"Pretentious dick," You mutter, making him walk further out into the dining area.

"Excuse me?" Bucky scoffs while Steve disappears down the stairs. "You love my pretentious dick."

Sighing, you nod and sit back. "I really do."

He smirks as he comes closer, standing over you. Slowly, he reaches his hand out and wraps it around your throat, tilting your head up. "You want it deep inside you, don't you?"

Letting out a shaky breath, you squeeze your legs together. You nod, bucking your hips up. "I do, daddy."

Leaning down, he tightens his grip on your neck, making your stomach flip. "I've been thinking about railing you all day. Can't wait to fuck your brains out tonight," He growls.

"Please," You sputter with wide eyes.

"Say it, baby," He orders you. "Tell me exactly what you want."

"I- I want daddy to fuck me," You let out weakly, clinging onto his wrist.

"Oh, daddy will, baby," Bucky coos softly, leaning forward to kiss you forehead. "Daddy's gonna fuck you so good tonight."

The sound of ascending steps from the cellar make him release your throat and step back, while you cross your leg over the other and feel your heart racing in your chest.

"Found the sassy shit you wanted," Steve announces as he enters the room, placing the bottle of Sassicaia on the table with a proud look.

"Thank you, Steve," You say graciously, giving him a polite smile while trying to get Bucky's dirty words out of your head.

Bucky and Steve get on with plating up and serving the food, and a few minutes later, you're all sitting at the table and digging in.

"So, how were your days?" Bucky asks you both. "Did you do anything besides annoy my wife, Rog?"

"Actually, I bought a car this morning," Steve says pointedly, making you frown.

"Steven, what have I told you? This is not the time for you to be spending money so carelessly," You scold him.

"I'm gonna sell the Ferrari, so it's fine," He defends himself. "Besides; Peg and I signed a pre-nup. I'm smart, and I'm safe."

"Still," You press sternly. "You're gonna be buying a new house, soon, and you know how much you love to renovate."

"Darling, relax," Steve says calmly. "I'm rich!"

"Peanut has a point, Rogers," Bucky adds curtly. "It's not a good look, going on a spending spree when you're supposed to be going through a divorce."

"I don't care how it looks," Steve retorts bitterly. "I just wanna leave that bitch and be done with it."

"Steve," You whisper with wide eyes, shaking your head. "Don't say that."

"Whatever. Everyone gets divorced nowadays; it's fine," He claims with a shrug, before giving Bucky a frown. "Did you guys sign a pre-nup?"

"Of course not," Bucky replies instantly.

"Really?" Steve asks, bewildered for a second before he relaxes. "Eh, makes sense. You two have always been horrifically in love."

"Peanut already knows that every cent of my money is hers," Bucky goes on to say, squeezing your hand. "We didn't need to sign anything to confirm that. And we definitely didn't need to prepare for a... I can't even say it."

"Yeah, man, how do you think I feel?" Steve asks with a dry laugh. "Fuckin' sucks."

"Anyway," You interject, sitting up. "More chicken, anyone?"

After changing the subject to a much lighter topic, the dinner continues. You share jokes, Bucky rants about his new, 'utterly incompetent' assistant, curses Peter for taking paternity leave and leaving him with the new incompetent assistant, and Steve makes false promises to cook for you next time.

"That was incredible," Steve groans as he puts down his knife and fork. "I haven't had a decent home-cooked meal in so long."

"You were eating my lasagne three days ago, you dramatic oaf," You point out with a laugh.

"Three days is a long time," He claims stubbornly.

Bucky reaches out to take your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the back of it gently. "It really was amazing, baby," He tells you earnestly. "Thank you for always feeding us so well."

"Of course, bubba," You reply bashfully through a grin. "I love making you food; you know that."

"And I love you," He replies lowly, kissing your hand again and keeping it close to his lips. God, he can't wait to see the look on your face when he flies you out to Italy. Lately, his bigger romantic gestures have been few and far between, and you deserve to be swept off your feet and spoiled rotten.

Watching the basic interaction between you both brings up feelings to the surface that Steve didn't even know were there. Suddenly, he's hit with a horrid wave of hurt, but he does he best to keep up a brave face.

You glance over at him and immediately, you can tell something isn't right. "You okay, Steve?" You ask him softly with a concerned look in your eyes.

He nods, avoiding your gaze because he knows it will only make him feel worse. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, I just... Fuck," He mutters as his eyes tear up.

Getting up to your feet, you rush over to pull him in for a hug, holding his head to your torso as you feel your heart break. "It's okay to be upset, Steve. You're allowed to be upset."

"I'm not even, I... fuck," He utters with a scoff, shocked even at himself. "Shitting fuck. Why am I crying?"

"You're okay, my darling, you can cry if you need to," You mumble while Bucky begins to collect the empty dishes and take them back to the kitchen. Looking down at him, you bring up your thumbs to wipe away the stray tears from Steve's cheeks. "I can't even imagine your pain, but I promise you'll get through it. Jamie and I are here to help you through it. Never think that you're alone."

"I know. I'm fine, I swear," He claims with a sniffle, resting against you. "Too much wine, maybe."

Steve nods before pulling back and letting out a sigh. "Right. Enough of the dramatics," He states firmly.

You stay with him for a while, swaying him gently while Bucky clears the table. Once he's done, he walks over to join you, patting Steve's head. "You're gonna be more than okay, pal," He promises. "You're gonna be better. I know it doesn't seem like it now, but there is a way through this. We've got you."

"Anyone up for dessert?" You ask expectantly. "Mary-Ann made these cheesecake brownie things for some event at her daughter's school and had a bunch left over, so she gave us some."

"Mary-Ann, as in the one who's in love with your husband?" Steve asks with a raised brow as you make your way to the kitchen.

"The very same!" You call back with a laugh.

"She is not in love with me," Bucky argues firmly, sitting back down in his seat. "I honestly have no clue where this joke came from."

"Uh, it came from her obvious obsession with you," Steve says with a chuckle. "And it's not a joke, Buck-a-roo."

Once you've retrieved the brownies, you waltz back into the dining area. "Wanna know what she said when she gave me these?" You ask rhetorically, leaning down to utter with a sultry voice in Bucky's ear, "Make sure to let me know if James likes them; I know he's hard to please."

"James?" Steve repeats incredulously. "She called your husband James?"

"Calls him James," You correct him, putting the brownies down on the table. "Can you believe the nerve?"

"It's not that serious; not everyone wants to use a nickname," Bucky defends. "Some people I work with call me James."

"I have never even introduced you to her as James," You tell him. "Hi, Mary-Ann, this is my husband, Bucky. And what does she do? Calls you by my name."

"I think you oughta beat her ass," Steve suggests with a smirk. "Do it in front of her daughter for optimal humiliation."

"I might just," You mutter bitterly.

Bucky pulls you down onto his lap, gently biting your arm. "You have nothing to worry about, my baby."

You scoff at his words. "When did I say I was worried?" You ask him with a raised brow, before looking over at Steve. "Did I say I was worried at any point, Steven?"

"No, Mrs. Barnes, you did not," Steve answers you. "But, Mr. Barnes' comment does lead me to think that you might actually have something to worry about."

"Shut up, punk," Bucky grumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Pair of dumbasses, the two of you."

You lean forward to grab a brownie, before bringing to Bucky's lips. "Let's see if your secret lover's baking is better than mine," You say teasingly as he takes a bite.

Bucky slowly nods as he chews it, keeping his eyes on yours. Once he swallows, he lets out a hum. "You know what?" He asks. "I might just have to fuck Mary-Ann again, it was that good."

"Bastard!" You cry, hitting his shoulder while him and Steve laugh heartily.

"I love you," Bucky says as he prevents you from standing up by tightening his grip around you. "I love you, and this brownie sucks."

Steve grabs a brownie and takes a bite, his eyes widening as he chews. "Can you give me Mary-Ann's number?"

"Pricks," You mutter with an eye roll, before bringing the rest of the brownie in your hand up to your own mouth. You take a bite and, admittedly, it's pretty fucking good.

"What's the verdict?" Bucky asks curiously, bouncing his leg beneath you. "Good enough to let her off for being in love with me?"

"First of all, you just admitted she's in love with you, so Steve, I'd like you to make a mental note of that," You say, pointing at him. "And secondly, no. It's good, but mine would taste better - if I ever stooped so low as to make cheesecake brownies, that is."

Bucky grins at your words. "Now who's the pretentious dick?"

"Speaking of pretentious," Steve begins. "You coming to the party next weekend, peanut?"

"Don't call her that," Bucky cuts in with a tone of disgust.

"Oh, so you don't like it when someone else calls me the name that you use for me?" You ask him with a raised brow.

Narrowing his eyes, Bucky sighs. "Okay, so I see how that could be annoying."

"Thank you very much!" You exclaim with relief. "And thank you, Steven, for demonstrating it so well."

"Yeah, whatever, anyway, are you coming?" He presses expectantly. "It's gonna be at that hotel you like; the Gold Leaf."

"I guess I have to come, as Bucky Barnes' beautiful wife, and all," You say dryly with a shrug. "Might be fun - unless Graham's gonna be there."

"Ugh, he is," Bucky confirms with disdain.

"Fabulous," You sigh. "Always fun talking to him."

"If he says a single thing I don't like this time, I'm gonna be having words with him," Bucky says threateningly.

"Ooh, words," You repeat teasingly. "He must be so scared."

"Yeah, way to intimidate a guy for flirting with your wife," Steve adds with a snort.

"What do you want me to do?" Bucky asks incredulously. "Kill him?"

"Yes," You say curtly. "You should kill every man who even glances in my direction with less than pure intentions."

He narrows his eyes. "Believe me, peanut, I want to."

"On that note," Steve states, standing up. "I should go. It's getting late."

"Are you sure?" You ask, standing up too. "You don't want a coffee, or another drink?"

"Nah; I need to drive back," He tells you, stealing another brownie. The three of you walk to the front door which Steve opens before turning back to you. "Thank you for everything, sweetheart; dinner was great."

"Thank you for coming," You reply as he pulls you in for a hug. "You're always welcome here."

"Oh, I know," He says as he pulls away before grabbing Bucky for a quick hug. "I appreciate you both, very much."

"We love you," You tell him sweetly.

Bucky wraps his arm around your waist, holding you against his side. "You better be at work tomorrow, Rogers," He warns him.

"I will be," Steve promises with a wink, walking backwards. "And you two better have some mind-blowing sex tonight, for me!"

"Idiot," You say between laughs while Bucky rolls his eyes.

Steve stuffs the brownie into his mouth before giving you a wave and walking over to his car. Once he's driven off, you shut the door and lock it. Before you can even say a single word, Bucky throws you over his shoulder and begins to make his way to the staircase.

"Jamie!" You squeal with excitement.

"Been wanting you all day," He grumbles, spanking your ass as he jogs up the stairs. "Do you know how insane the thought of you makes me?"

"I have an idea," You tell him coyly while he takes you into the bedroom. He then drops you onto the bed with a thump, and is about to rip off your dress when you stop him. "Wait!"

Concern floods features as he moves back. "Is everything alright, peanut?"

"Yes, but just wait here," You order him, pulling him down onto the bed and standing up yourself. "I'll be two minutes!"

With that, you rush into the en suite, leaving a frustrated Bucky with a boner and a huff. "What are you doing, baby?" He calls out. "You better not be shaving."

"I'm not!" You promise, your voice muffled through the door. "Just give me a second; I've been waiting for this all day!"

Bucky lets out a sigh, lying back on the bed. His lips curl up with anticipation as to what awaits him; a night of pure pleasure. A few moments into his naughty daydreams later, the bathroom door swings open and he immediately sits up.

"Baby," He whispers as he takes in your appearance, wide-eyed and mystified. "You look absolutely incredible."

There you stand wearing nothing but a black, lacey lingerie bodysuit and your heels. Your curves are laid bare to him as you coyly walk over to the bed, smirking.

"Hello, Mr. Barnes," You greet him, crawling onto the bed. "I need your help."

He raises a brow and lets out a shaky breath. "Yeah? And what do you need my help with, baby?"

Biting your lip, you sit on your knees in front of him and tilt your head. "I need you to fuck me, right now," You tell him dramatically. "The fate of the world depends on it."

A soft chuckle leaves his mouth as he looks you up and down. "Yeah? You need me to breed you?"

"Yes, I do," You confirm. "You need to get me pregnant, as soon as possible- or else, the aliens will take over."

He snorts before regaining his composure and nodding. "I can do that, sweetheart. I can give you a baby."

Slowly, you spread your legs, revealing the crotchless panties. Bucky swallows thickly at the sight of your glistening pussy, his lips parting. "This is urgent, Mr. Barnes," You say with desperation. "You need to fuck a baby into me, now!"

After removing his shirt and pants, Bucky gets onto his knees in front of you and grabs you by the waist. "Don't you worry, baby, daddy's gonna get you pregnant," He promises with a growl. "Gonna fill you up with my seed."

You smile widely as he picks you up and puts you into his lap, rubbing your wet cunt against his hard dick. "Inside, daddy," You whine. "Put it deep inside me."

"Are you sure, baby?" He asks you gently. "Are you sure you can take my big cock?"

"I have no choice," You tell him, clinging onto his shoulders. "I need to do this, for the future of humanity!"

"Yes, you do," He agrees, rubbing his cock against your clit. "You're gonna be a good little cumdump for me, aren't you?"

"Yes, Sir," You promise, rocking your hips desperately. "I'll be your cumdump, daddy."

"That's a good girl," He praises you before slowly sinking into your tight cunt. "Oh, fuck."

Your head falls back as he fills you up, every inch of your skin on fire. "So big, daddy. I can't take it."

"Shh, baby, it's okay," He coos, stroking your face as his eyes darken. "You're gonna take it." With that, he plunges his entire length into you, taking your breath away. The pain is an enhancer for the pleasure, and you let out a loud, wanton cry that'd make a porn star blush.

He begins thrusting in and out of you with vigor, grunting as your pussy swallows him deeply.

"Right there," You moan, digging your nails into his shoulder. "Right there, daddy."

"My girl's gonna be so beautiful, all filled up with my baby," He utters, ripping apart your lingerie to reveal your chest. "Tits are gonna be so full of milk for our child."

Your eyes roll back at his words as he slams into your harder, making it hard for you to think straight.

"Such sweet fuckin' milk," Bucky growls before latching his mouth onto your nipple and sucking on it, sending waves of electric delight through your body. He pulls off with a pop, smirking at you. "Mommy's gonna feed me her milk, isn't she?"

"Yes, Jamie," You promise, pulling his hair. "Oh, my God."

"Mmm, that's right," He grumbles, playing with your tits. "Such a pretty mommy." With that, he starts sucking on the other nipple, slowly pushing you down onto the bed and getting on top of you.

He fucks you into the mattress, his hips snapping against yours as his fingers pull and twist your neglected nipple. Your back arches up as you whimper and whine, feeling your pleasure building up to its climax.

"Daddy," You begin, clawing his back. "Please, can I cum?"

Pulling his mouth off your nipple, he moves up to rest his head in the crux of your neck. "Not yet," He growls, fucking you harder. "You don't get to cum until I tell you to."

His words only make you hotter, letting him take control over you. Bucky places one of his hands on your stomach and pushes down on it gently. "You feel me right here, peanut?" He asks breathlessly. "Feel how deep inside you I am?"

"Oh, God," You gasp, your vision blurring.

"Gonna fill you up, make your belly nice and round with my baby," He tells you lowly, his lips brushing against yours. "You'll be a perfect mommy for me, won't you?"

"Yes, Sir," You reply feebly, feeling your head lighten.

"You're the prettiest little cumdump, you know that?" He whispers. "So fucking gorgeous."

"Daddy," You whine. "Need to cum."

"Yeah?" Bucky asks with an arrogant smirk, before suddenly bringing his fingers to your clit and rubbing quick circles onto it.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy!" You scream, feeling yourself fall off the edge as the pressure on your core increases.

He leans down, bringing his lips to your ear, and whispers, "Cum."

Your legs shake around him as you finally let go, entranced by blinding pleasure. Waves of pleasure shoot through your body as you gush onto his cock, tightening around his girth. Bucky isn't far behind you, taking a few seconds before he releases his seed deep inside you.

"Take it all, baby," He grunts, thrusting into you sloppily. "Take every fucking drop, like the good cumdump you are."

You fade in and out of consciousness for the next few minutes, feeling weak and exhausted. Gentle hands clean and clothe you, a soft voice whispering into your ear about how good you were tonight.

When your eyes are finally able to fully open again, you see the dimly lit ceiling above you. You turn your head to the side to see Bucky standing over the bed, moisturizing his face. He smiles when he sees you staring, before shooting you a wink.

"Welcome back, peanut," He says teasingly, kneeling onto the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Need to sleep," You mumble groggily. "Did you- did you do my face?"

"I did, baby," He assures you, getting under the duvet next to you before pulling you into his arms and kissing your cheek.

"Did we save humanity from the aliens?" You question him. "With our mind-blowing sex?"

"We did, peanut," He tells you with a grin. "Do you know how much I love you?"

"How much?" You ask, a shadow of a smile playing at your lips.

He holds you tighter to his chest, resting his head in your neck. "More than there are drops of water in the ocean. More than there are stars in the sky. More than there are atoms in the galaxy."

"That's a lot," You reply softly, before adding, "I love you even more than that."

Chuckling, he presses a kiss to your neck. "If you say so."

"Good night, bubba," You mumble sweetly. "I love you."

"Good night, peanut," Bucky replies with you in his arms. "I love you."

Today was a great day.

aw how cute was that.

bucky masterlist

side blog for update notifications: @kinanabinksupdates

buy me a kofi <3

MOB!BUCKY MASTERLIST

18+ | Mob!Bucky x Best Friend!Reader

the adventures of bucky and his little fairy.

recommended to be read in order, but most can be read as standalones.

just let me see them

your best friend, bucky, has done some research about makeup for you. it's imperative that you show him your boobs.

look at me forever

continuation of just let me see them.

watch me cry

request: can you write some with mob!bucky x best friend!reader where he makes her cry and they stop talking for awhile? please make it angsty!!

big mouth

you have a bad habit of running your mouth when you're tipsy. luckily, your best friend is always prepared to help you out of any trouble that big mouth of yours gets you in.

tug of war

ex!pietro wants you back, but bucky will never give you up. you're his, and his alone.

just like a fairy

the start of the most loving friendship in history.

one of mine

bucky and fairy's second meeting; a chaotic gunfight.

how you love me

bucky's high out of his mind, and paranoid about saving you from apparent danger. taking advantage of the fact that he won't recall any of this, you reveal your true feelings to him.

a fairy's beloved object

never steal from a fairy. the consequences could be deadly.

clingy as fuck

you overhear bucky telling sam about how clingy you are, which breaks your heart.

play pretend

in order to appease his uncle, bucky needs to prove that he's a family man. what better way to get that image across than with a loving wife? there's only one problem: bucky doesn't have a wife. he does, however, have a little fairy.

your hands have made some good mistakes

“I kneel into a dream where I am good and loved. I am loved. My hands have made some good mistakes. They can always make better ones.” - Natalie Wee

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky has to spend six months locked up with a stranger.

His teammates went on an international press tour and left him behind. They hired someone to supervise him, per the conditions of his pardon— a roommate, they said.

A roommate?

In which: Bucky’s heart slowly thaws, he develops a soft spot for his idiot roommate, he discovers his vibranium arm is extra-sensitive, he rediscovers that whole ‘sexual attraction’ thing, he has Not Great mental health including nightmares and therapy, he has a complicated relationship with his ex, he reminisces about the 40s, he’s an absolute fluffy sweetheart, he really enjoys blow jobs, he deals with the backlash from his criminal trial, he addresses internalized guilt and shame, he gets laid for the first time in decades, he gets irrationally jealous, he realizes WHY he was irrationally jealous, he digs up old feelings, he rescues Steve on a mission gone wrong, he takes pain meds and traumatizes everyone in the room, he's a smug little shit, he considers getting rid of his metal arm, he's loved implicitly, he speaks to a journalist about his past, he celebrates birthdays, he’s stupid in love, he gets drunk on Asgardian whiskey, aaaaaand more.

Warnings (added as they occur): 18+ minors DNI, angst, Bucky’s mental health is Not Great, cursing, lots of awkwardness and banter, pining x100, SMUT, masturbation (m), alcohol consumption/drunkenness, needy!bucky (he gets a warning), not-so-dry humping, a Steve Rogers plot twist, hand jobs, slightly subby Bucky, vaginal fingering, oral (m and f receiving), outercourse, human disaster Bucky Barnes, angst (it bears repeating), legal proceedings, panic attacks, PIV sex, creampie, cum kink, possessive behavior, jealousy, semi-public sex, past/period-typical homophobia, ~complicated~ relationships, slight emotional infidelity, sexual fantasies about current partners & others, hurt/comfort, blood, hospital setting, medicinal drug use, premature ejaculation, metal arm kink, sex pollen trope/dubcon, voyeurism/exhibitionism

Word Count: 141k+ (phew!!!)

a/n: This is the xreader rewrite of my hands have made some good mistakes (yes, I think I’m clever). Told (mostly) from Bucky’s POV. Not really an AU, just not Endgame/TFATWS compliant (everyone is alive).

My Masterlist

Find me on ao3: dewystars

❤️‍🔥 = contains smut

✨ = personal fav

Send me asks, thots, requests, or drabbles about this series and I’ll love you forever 🥰

Summer

Part 1 - The Babysitter

Part 2 - Embroidery

Part 3 - Sergeant

Part 4 - Like the Tide

❤️‍🔥 Part 5 - Static on the Lines

Part 6 - The Nightmare

Part 7 - Celebration

❤️‍🔥 Part 8 - What If

✨❤️‍🔥 Part 9 - Back in Brooklyn

❤️‍🔥 Insatiable 9.1 - Lovers' Lane Posted 3/10/22

❤️‍🔥 Part 10 - Supernova

❤️‍🔥 Part 11 - Barnes Beach

✨❤️‍🔥 Part 12 - Spiraling

❤️‍🔥 Part 13 - Minefield

Fall

❤️‍🔥 Part 14 - Jealousy

❤️‍🔥 Part 15 - Jealousy, Reprised

❤️‍🔥 Part 16 - Samson

Part 17 - Just a Taste

Part 18 - Native Tongue

❤️‍🔥 Part 19 - Lucky Posted 2/18/22

❤️‍🔥 Insatiable 19.1 - Against the Sheets Posted 2/22/22

❤️‍🔥 Insatiable 19.2 - Stamina Posted 2/26/22

❤️‍🔥 Part 20 - Shimmer Posted 3/04/22

❤️‍🔥 Part 21 - Aphrodisiac Posted 3/22/22

❤️‍🔥 Part 22 - What Now? Posted 4/4/22

Winter

❤️‍🔥 Part 23

❤️‍🔥 Part 24

Part 25

Bonus Content

❤️‍🔥 Insatiable: a yhhmsgm collection - a series of standalone smutty incidents that fit into the yhhmsgm timeline. Will be posted horribly out of order. No thoughts, just thots.

❤️‍🔥 Bucky’s nsfw alphabet

Bucky character meta

Annotated playlist

✨ Hot Mess - Bucky’s dance moves

Graveyard

summary: As the unofficial healer for the Avengers, you pride yourself on the ability to mend heroes with the touch of your hand. Only, your gift comes at a heavy price — one you keep secret from your friends —and when Bucky asks you to do the impossible, they’ll discover why your gift is called a sacrifice, too.  pairing: bucky x healer!reader word count: 10k warnings: canon level violence

As a child, you were told it was a gift; placed upon a pedestal above the quaint suffering of a rural town and removed of your innocence for the good of strangers. You’d been made to be revered – honored – for the touch that could mend the broken.  

It began with a cut upon your father’s finger – a slip of a kitchen knife that had left a small bead of blood in its wake. Curious eyes glanced up at your father as he hissed at the sting of it and you’d reach forward to place your infant hand upon the cut, a grip so mall it barely wrapped around his finger. He stilled as a soft glow began to emit from your palm. When you removed your hand and began to cry, your father was stunned to find his skin perfectly intact – no trace of a scar in its place.  

They told you it was a gift, celebrated you as if you were a blessing from Heaven itself. But they were cruel in their rejoice, selfish in their praise. They had not considered your gift was not a gift at all – but a sacrifice.  

Like energy, pain could not be destroyed— but it could be absorbed. It could be transferred. Your father’s cut had not simply disappeared, but instead manifested on the finger of an infant for a few short moments before it faded into your skin; laid to rest amongst a sea of foreign injuries that did not belong to you.  

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