#I still want Eddie Munson’s bat tattoo on my left arm | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

choke-me-joey · 1 year

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Matching Tattoos

Eddie Munson x reader

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, DO NOT GIVE ANYONE OR YOURSELF TATTOOS AT HOME FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GO TO A PROFESSIONAL THIS IS FICTION AND A VERY UNHYGIENIC SITUATION FOR NEW TATTOOS, blowjobs, gagging, swallowing, friends to lovers, Eddie is so fucking sweet, porn with some plot followed by fluff.

Part 2

"Isn't she pretty?" Eddie grins, producing the homemade tattoo gun from under his bed. Pretty was a very strong word. More like a clump of sketchy looking metal held together with even sketchier looking screws and rubber bands.

You scoff. "If you think she's pretty I'm seriously starting to question your taste, Munson. Going from Chrissy Cunningham to this? That's quite a decline."

Eddie rolls his eyes.

"You're never going to drop that are you? Chrissy was a 5 minute crush, besides, she's been dating that douchebag Jason Carver for ages now." Eddie waves his hand to signify his distate. "Anyway, nowadays my taste is more...refined, thank you very much. Hence why I am going through the world's longest dry spell at the moment. Now shut up, and get on the bed. We're doing this." He buzzes the tattoo gun for extra effect.

"Yessir." Giving him a cheeky salute, you lie down on Eddie's bed as he messes around with the ink, and something crinkles beneath you. Your brow furrows as you dig underneath you, and you pull out a dog eared magazine. You flick through the pages, your cheeks flushing. "Jesus, Eddie, resorting to porno mags? You really are suffering." You throw the crusty magazine at him, laughing. Eddie quickly kicks it under his bed.

"What? I got needs, Y/N, and its not exactly like there's a line of babes wanting to fuck the town freak."

"Not even with the whole struggling rockstar vibe you've got going on?" You cock your eyebrow, shooting him a smirk.

"Right? I should be drowning in pussy," he grins, and you roll your eyes. "Still want it on your hip, right?"

"As long as it can be covered by a bathing suit so my parents don't murder me, have at it."

Eddie gulps as you unbutton your jeans, shimmying your hips out of them and exposing your simple black panties to him. You then roll your shirt up your stomach and tie it in a knot to prevent it from getting in his way.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen you like this before, he'd seen you in a bathing suit hundreds of times but this....this was different. This was you, half naked, on his bed. You that Eddie had been harbouring a crush on for a good year or so now, hence the dry spell. He didn't want anyone else, he wanted you, his best friend, his partner in crime, his girl. Nobody in this deadbeat town even came close, not anymore.

He was ashamed to even admit that the magazine you'd fished out from his bed was merely a distraction tool. So many nights he'd fucked his fist thinking of you, the way your body glistened in the sun that time when you sunbathed out the back of his trailer in that black bikini, the way your breasts threatened to spill out of the cups and your ass peeked out from the bottoms that left very little to the imagination.

He had to get you out of his head. It was sick, it was wrong, you were his best friend. His beautiful, funny, smart, sexy as hell best friend. If he had to beat off to some random chick in a disgustingly cheap porno magazine just to stop him thinking about you, so be it.

But honestly, when you'd asked him to give you a tattoo on your hip, the magazines just weren't doing it anymore.

Eddie cleared his throat. "You sure about this Y/N?"

"Eddie, shut up and ink me already," you smile, playfully nudging him with your foot. "You drew it up, yeah?"

"One bat comin' at ya," Eddie grins, showing you the little stencil he'd drawn. It was an exact copy of the largest bat out of the swarm on his arm. "You know we can never not be friends after this right? Matching tattoos is a pretty big commitment."

"Until death do us part." You teased.

"I fuckin' do," Eddie kissed your hand, making you snort. Your friendship had always been like this, flirty to the point where people were always wondering if you were together or not. But that's all it ever was, all bark and no bite per say. "Can you move your, uh, your-"

"Panties, Eddie? For someone who used the phrase 'drowning in pussy' earlier I refuse to believe 'panties' gets you all flustered." You tease, pushing down your panties and exposing your skin to him.

Eddie can feel his palms sweating as your panties slip dangerously low, almost exposing that dip between your legs. His mouth is as dry as the fucking desert when he catches a glimpse of your smooth, soft skin. God, he wants to put his mouth there. He wants to put his mouth all over you actually. He coughs once more.

"Right, let's do this, pretty girl." He carefully cleans the area you want tattooed with some antiseptic liquid before laying the stencil down, carefully pulling it away to reveal the outline on your skin. "Looks metal, babe, you ready?"

You nod, clutching his comforter in one hand as he brings the needle to your skin and the buzzing starts. You bite your lip as you feel the needle meet your flesh, a searing burning pain but not too unbearable.

As he drags the needle across your soft skin, Eddie is sweating. He's so close to a part of you he desperately wants to explore, to kiss and lick and make you scream his name until you're sobbing in ecstasy. But he can't. Why would someone like you ever be interested in the town freak? The nerdy metalhead that spends his free time planning extensive D&D campaigns, or playing in shitty dive bars to a crowd of not even 10 people didn't compare to the jocks who went to endless parties, or did something better than spending their spring break in their trailer getting high and watching horror movies.

"Whatcha thinking about, handsome?" Your sweet, sweet voice breaks him out of his thoughts and he looks up at you. God, you look like a fucking angel right now, all draped across his bed with your hair over his pillow. He knows he'll be able to smell the shampoo you use on that later.

Eddie, always one to almost never lose his cool, shoots you a cheeky grin.

"Thinkin' about how I could tattoo my name on you, pretty Make sure everyone knows who's girl you are."

"Everyone already knows, I've only got eyes for you, dungeon master."

Fuck, he wishes you wouldn't call him that. Not like this anyway. Not with this amount clothes on. Or not on.

"Less of the dirty talk, you. I'm trying to concentrate here." He growls, wiping the residual ink off your skin, refilling and continuing his work. You try to ignore the throbbing in your panties and how good his hands feel on your bare skin.

35 minutes later, it's Eddie's turn. After cleaning and covering your new artwork, you get yourself dressed (much to Eddie's disappointment) and turn to him with a wicked grin.

"Pants off, Munson."

"Yes, ma'am." Copying your salute from earlier, he unbuckles his handcuff belt and undoes his jeans, shimmying out of them and tossing them somewhere in his room. He also pulls off his Hellfire shirt. You raise an eyebrow. "What? Can't risk anything happening to it, I gotta wait another week before I can get more!"

"Alright, nerd, lie down." You smile, rummaging around in your bag for the little design you'd drawn up for him. You pass the small design of the devil from the Hellfire logo to him and he grins.

"That's metal."

"So metal that nobody is gonna see it unless they're going down on you."

"Yeah, but we'll know it's there. It'll be like our dirty little secret, Y/N."

"Hot," you laugh as Eddie lies down, putting his arms behind his head. He tilts his head down towards his hips.

"Get to work, missy."

You'd been practising on that gross fake skin stuff in preparation for this, but nothing could have prepared you for touching Eddie...here. His skin was so soft and warm, and he smelled so good. A mix of his old cologne he'd gotten from you last Christmas, smoke and a hint of sweat. It was so Eddie, it made your heart flutter and somewhere else flutter too.

You think Eddie takes the needle like a champ, but when you look up at him about 20 minutes later, his eyes are screwed shut.

"Hurt that much?" You grin and he shakes his head, eyes still closed.

"Nah, babe, honestly, I'm...fine." He hesitates. You stop for a second, tilting your head to the side in question. You go to wipe off some of the excess ink and your arm brushes over his boxers accidentally.

Oh.

"Eddie, are you-"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, don't talk about it." Eddie chokes out, his cheeks flushing. His loose plaid boxers had done a good job of hiding his semi, but when you'd brushed against it, it was game over.

Eddie was hard.

"I-is this like a normal reaction to getting tattooed, or...?" You stutter, your mouth feeling dryer than fucking Gandhi's flip flop.

Eddie sighs, throwing an arm over his face.

"No, it's a normal reaction to a very, very pretty girl hovering near my dick, babe." He says in a small voice. Your cheeks flush as you place the tattoo gun down on his bedside table.

"O-oh. Well, do you want me t-to stop? Or I could help with...I could help you with that?"

Eddie groans behind his arm.

"Babe, don't tease me like that, that's just cruel. 'Sides, wouldn't you feel...weird jerking me off?"

Your mind had not gone to jerking him off. In fact, it had gone a step further.

"Oh, I-I wasn't...I was gonna, um-"

"Blow me?!" Eddie throws his arm off of his face and stares at you, and you pretend you don't notice his cock jumping in his boxers. "You, my super hot best friend Y/N, are seriously offering to suck my dick right now?!"

"I-I’m sorry-"

"Sorry?! What the fuck are you sorry for?! Making all my wet dreams come true?!"

You giggle. "Eddie, shut up."

"No, I'm serious, Y/N, you've been in here-" he sits up and taps the side of his head "-doing some nasty shit for so fucking long. Why do you think I'm jacking off to shitty porno mags instead of chasing pussy?"

You're silent, a slow smile spreading across your face as your hand creeps over his crotch, gently palming at his cock which jumps in your hand.

"Well, lucky for you, dungeon master, you've also been the star of my wet dreams."

Eddie falls back onto his pillows with a groan. "Fuck, I can't believe this is actually fucking happening."

"Tell me what you want to do to me, Eds." Your voice is low and sultry as you give him a squeeze. He looks at you, tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips. You tug at his boxers, giving him a questioning look. He grabs your wrist.

"Are you sure about this, Y/N? Cos if it's a choice between getting off, or keeping you as my best friend, I'd rather keep you babe. Blue balls and all."

You smile softly; Eddie was too sweet for his own good. It was one of the things you loved most about him.

"What about if you get to get off and still keep me?" You say, pushing his hand away and slowly pulling his boxers down. His cock springs out, slapping against his lower stomach. He was long and thick, uncut with an upwards curve that the very sighmade your pussy clench. You huff out an exasperated laugh. "Holy shit, Eds."

"Good 'holy shit', or bad 'holy shit'?" Eddie's cheeks are flushed as he smirks.

"You know the answer to that." You wrap your hand around his cock, making him hiss as you stroke the silky skin. You pull the foreskin down to expose his angry looking, reddish purple mushroom head, and a drop of precum blurts out. You continue to stroke him, eyes fixed on his face.

"Fuck, stop looking at me like that," Eddie groans, his cock twitching in your hand. "'S too much."

"Like what?" You smirk, straddling his thighs. He can't answer you, any sort of answer immediately wiped from his brain as you lower your mouth to the head of his cock and lick, tasting him for the first time. His hips buck, forcing more of his cock into your mouth, making you gag out of surprise.

"Shit, sorry, sorry," Eddie gasps. "Fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good, don't be surprised if I come like, super quick, okay? Been thinking about this for so fucking long you have no idea. And you look....God, you looking so fucking beautiful right now."

You shoot him a soft smile, pressing a kiss to his cock before taking him into your mouth properly, swallowing as much of him down as you can.

Eddie's hand comes to your hair, gently stroking it as you bob your head up and down. The flavour of him blooms over your tongue and makes you hum in appreciation.

"Fuck, babe, your mouth...shit, it's so fucking good, taking my cock so well..."

You pull up and suckle the head, flicking your tongue over the slit. "Holy shit, you're gonna kill me, sweetheart."

You smirk, pulling back and pursing your lips, allowing a glob of spit to fall from your mouth onto the head, dribbling down the shaft. Eddie falls back onto the pillows. "That's it, you've killed me, you're blowing a dead man, baby."

"A dead man who's gonna come in my mouth, right?" You mumble, jerking him quickly, your spit allowing your hand to slide over his shaft with ease. Eddie keens, his teeth gritted.

"You can't say shit like that, angel, I'm about ready to blow as it is."

"Do it, I want it." You reply, taking his cock into the warmth of your mouth once more. You allow him to fuck your face, both hands now resting on the back of your head as you swallowed around him.

"Shit, fuck, oh my fucking god, baby, Y/N, I'm gonna come, fuck I'm gonna come so fucking hard in that pretty mouth of yours, yeah? God, you're such a good girl, so good f'me, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck!"

Eddie comes with a broken moan, his hips thrusting upwards and his hands holding you in place as his cock pumps rope after rope of cum down your throat. You moan, relishing the taste of him, which makes Eddie shudder at the overstimulation. You swallow everything he gives you. "Fuck, sweetheart, can you show me?"

You begrudgingly take your mouth off of his cock and open your mouth, tilting your head back slightly and sticking your tongue out to show him that you had indeed swallowed his cum. "Holy shit. I'm gonna get hard again." He groans, his chest heaving and his cock twitching slightly. You giggle and place a kiss to it, and Eddie grabs you, pulling you on top of him, careful to avoid the new ink. "I can kiss you, right?"

"I think we're past that, Eddie" You smile and squeak in surprise as he pulls your face to his, capturing your lips in a hasty kiss. It's a chaste kiss, experimental and you break away briefly. His eyes lock with yours, as if he was trying to search them to see if this was okay. "It's okay, Eds" you whisper, nodding gently. His eyes dart to your mouth and back up to your eyes.

"Do I get to keep you?" He whispers, his fingers softly stroking your cheek. You brush your nose against his.

"You get to keep me."

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #stranger things smut #stranger things fluff #eddie munson

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steviewashere · 24 days

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In it For the Long Haul (And Then Some)

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Minor Internalized Ableism Tags: Post Canon, Post Season Four, Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Hospitalization, Medical Conditions, Steve Harrington Has Head Trauma (Brief Mention), Amputee Steve Harrington, Amputee Eddie Munson, Disabled Steve Harrington, Disabled Eddie Munson, Whump, Implied/Referenced Depression, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve's Injuries Actually Have an Effect On Him, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Pet Names, Medical Accuracies (Surprising, I Know), Tattoos, Implied/Referenced Sex, Getting Together

Guys, oh my god, my Apple keyboard has prosthetic emojis?! That's so cool.

🦾🦿—————🦾🦿 He thought it’d be another concussion that would put him out this time. It’s practically the stamp of approval left on his body by the Upside Down. Should be bright green and sticky on his forehead and in big bold letters for everybody to read. But it isn’t a concussion. And he’s not sure what to do with himself.

Maybe they should’ve taken him to the hospital to get medical treatment after the bat bites. It wasn’t just on his back and arms and stomach. The marks were on his legs, too. Even though he had tried to kick the demobats off, they still sunk their teeth in when they had the chance, albeit briefly. Considering, too, he also walked through that hellhole without shoes on. He should’ve seen a doctor. First thing, he should’ve seen a doctor. But he didn’t. And he had the infection to show for it. Except, his body hadn’t healed the way it was supposed to. His immune system didn’t cooperate. It didn’t keep up.

The infection spread through the muscle of his left foot. And when it didn’t go away fast enough, it worked its way through his toes, shot up his ankle, and into his calf. Right below the knee.

His pinkie and ring toes went first. They—and he wishes he could spare the gruesome details—turned purple and swollen and numb. That’s when he knew things would be different. As soon as those parts were gone, he had begun to turn his face away from the window of hope. Instead, he looked out at the deep ocean waves of regret and grief, and imagined himself as a sinking ship. Filling with water. Plummeting to the bottom. Rotting.

Robin and the kids would all come around. Flood into his room. Talk to him while he was delirious from anesthesia first, then morphine next. Spoke to him when he hissed through phantom pains. Looked away when he had to be wheeled into the all too spacious hospital bathroom. “Tug the red chord if you get stuck,” he recalls a nurse saying. “Don’t put pressure on this foot, it’s still draining,” another had said. And by the time he could stay out of the wheelchair, he forgot what it was like to pee without the reminders, what it was like to go to the bathroom and be able to stand on his own.

Because of his luck, though, he lost the whole foot next. The infection had worked its way into his tibia. Didn’t fall asleep willingly after he was taken off of medication. Just sat in his cramped hospital bed, staring down at the stump of where part of him once was, and wept. Hands curled over his thighs, nails digging into his flesh, lips tight against his teeth, unblinking and weeping softly into the silence of his room. The first night without morphine and without the foot, he sat in the dark. In the black ink of his room. Choking on himself. Uncaring towards his limp and greasy hair dangling in front of his eyes. And he didn’t sleep. Didn’t want to. Couldn’t take the glare off his absent foot.

He stopped flexing the other foot, stopped running it against his left leg when he did try to sleep, stopped wanting to use it all together.

It wasn’t until the calf was removed completely, leaving him with half a leg and just his knee, did he stop talking. He just sat in the bustling white noise silence of his room. Wide eyes that were dry and red and bloodshot staring down at the thin cloth blanket draped over himself. An even thinner hospital gown stuck to his sallow skin. Stomach rumbling with hunger, but he couldn’t eat in the presence of himself. He just sat and thought of blankness, of absence, and of loss.

He’s been in the hospital nearly a month—endless surgeries and endless bouts of infections—when Eddie finally visits. Steve barely glances at him. Notices his silhouette and odd gait and the hiding of his right arm, but nothing more. Goes back to his lap with a raw emptiness, gaping and pulsing the more and more he sits in this room. Still recovering. Not even at the point of physical therapy yet. Still trying to heal his, how he views it, now useless body.

Eddie sits down in the chair to his left. Grunting with the exertion. He releases a measured, deep breath. “I heard from Robin that you were up here,” he states conversationally. “Thought I’d come up and see you now that I’m not stuck in my own room.”

Steve doesn’t say anything. Just traces his thumbs over the hem of his blanket. He thought he’d be angrier at the mention of Eddie being discharged. Filled to the brim with bitter jealousy. But all that tinges in his chest is a beastly want. An ache. The sizzle of something dwindling out.

“Haven’t had the chance to thank you, Steve,” Eddie murmurs. “I thought I’d die down there. Figured it was the best option, y’know, considering my circumstances? But then you and Dustin did the whole tourniquet thing and risked your lives and welcomed me in like a friend. So, my mind’s been changed. Hate this town and how it hates me, but I’m glad to still be here with some of the best people I’ve met,” he says sincerely. “But—I, uh—I wanted to come keep you company, as a friend. Show you something, too.”

At that, Steve raises his eyes slightly. Enough to catch on where Eddie’s knees are pressed firmly against the side of his bed. Angled oddly to stretch out and wiggle his right arm in sight of Steve’s vision. That’s when his eyes catch on the limp sleeve of the flannel he’s wearing. How it just flattens to the bed, red and black, lifeless.

The sleeve rolls up to reveal the stump of Eddie’s arm. His hand, wrist, and half of his forearm completely gone.

“We match,” Eddie says. And it should be grim. It should be a devastating statement to make. But something in Steve starts to warm. A desperation sort of growth, one that comes from the want and need to be seen. Eddie continues, “And—Look, I know it’s not ideal. It really isn’t. If anything, this is like majorly fucked up for the both of us. But…We’ll figure it out, you know? Get prosthetics. Cut up our clothes to accommodate our limbs, or well, lack of. But you aren’t alone; that’s my point.”

Hesitantly, Steve raises his head. Finally looking at Eddie in his entirety. The palm sized scar on his cheek, pink and shiny and stark against his face. The ring around his neck and the other red raw scars that creep into the collar of his t-shirt. And his hair. It’s gone. Shaved down. Replaced by a bit of fuzz and one long scar that goes from the widow’s peak of his hairline, to where it tapers at his neck. Steve doesn't remember Eddie getting injured there, but it must've been from when he fell through the portal—limp and loose.

He realizes, looking down at himself, that there are swirls of scars from the back of his own arms, deep white lines on his knuckles, the ring around his neck surely present, and that doesn’t even include the ones that ache on his back. He looks back to Eddie.

Eddie reaches out a slow hand, cupping his cheek, wiping at something. That’s when Steve realizes that he’s crying. “Hey, oh, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “I’m sorry, Stevie. I didn’t think that—“

“You get it?” Steve squeak-rasps. His throat throbs. It's dry and brittle and painful all the way through him; down to his stomach, into his sweaty palms, at the base of his stump. Phantom stings that make him twitch. But his voice...It's nothing like him. It's haunting to hear himself. And for a moment, he wishes he didn't speak. Eddie, however, startles and softens all at once. Eyes glistening at Steve, worried and concerned and cautious, but also enamored and welcoming and empathetic.

Nodding, Eddie says, “Yeah, sweetheart, I do. I’m still getting used to it, too.” He pushes up into Steve’s messy hair, swiping it away from his forehead. Doesn’t even grimace at how gross it surely feels on his fingers. “You don’t have to sit alone about this. ‘Cause I’m right here with you. And…” His eyes grow immeasurably softer. “…I may not have both hands, but I’ve got both arms to hold you," he breathes.

It’s easy to lean into Eddie’s hand. To close his eyes and let himself feel this. Sobbing quietly, muffled behind his lips. Shoulders shaking with it. He blubbers, “I hate this, Eddie. I hate this, I hate this, I—“ And cuts himself off with a loud, unashamed, explosive sob.

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie is saying as he wraps himself around Steve. Tucks himself in close, to where Steve is able to set his head on his shoulder. He sits on the edge of the bed so that he doesn’t overcrowd. And just holds on tight. “You feel how you need to feel, Steve. Get it out, it’s okay.”

Steve groans harshly in the back of his throat. Gasping in short breaths, chest rattling with the effort. He slams his forehead into Eddie’s chest, over and over. Muffling into the fabric of his shirt, “Nobody else gets it. They don’t understand. They don’t…All of them.” Eddie doesn’t speak. Afraid that Steve will stop if he does. “They think I’ll just bounce back, but everything is different now, Eds,” he cries, “Everything.”

And he finds that he does mean that. He knows he's too quiet. Knows he's behaving too serious for his bones. Too mature for his lungs. He's hollow to his core, and bleeding between his teeth. There's something deeply fractured in him now, even if he were to ever show a sliver of who he was before.

He allows himself to cry for a few minutes more before slumping with exhaustion, but he doesn’t close his eyes. Doesn’t let sleep pull him under. Just shakes and shivers and twitches in Eddie’s warm hold. Until, Eddie pulls back. Arms set firmly on Steve’s shoulders. Eyes wandering his face, his hair. “You look so tired, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “When’s the last time you’ve slept?” Steve shrugs in lieu of a response. Eddie's eyebrows twitch down, a frown wanting to form, but he worms it away. Offering with a well-crafted small smile, “How about you sleep and I keep watch for you?”

He shakes his head. “They’ll take more of me if I close my eyes. They keep doing it,” Steve mutters. His voice is weak and slightly petulant.

“What do you mean, Stevie?” And Eddie's face drops again. Frowning through the floor.

“They come in here and tell me the infection spread. Tell me about how it goes bone deep. Or how my limbs are turning purple. Or how something doesn’t look good,” Steve rambles on, “Then, they have to take me back for surgery. And I have to let them because I get it, I do, because my body isn’t healing right. And it's not something I'll just make up for at home, so I let them. I let them and then...I wake back up and more of my leg is gone. I can’t let them take more from me. I can’t lose more of myself. I can’t, Eddie, I can’t—I can’t—I can’t—“

Softly, Eddie shushes him. Rubbing his remaining hand up and down Steve’s arm in long stripes, carefully avoiding his still agitated scars. “Shhh, baby, you’re okay. It’s scary, I know. But they said that you’re doing better. Treatment is working, Steve. You won’t lose anything else, okay?” His eyes are wide and imploring. Deep brown, enriching, swallowing Steve whole. “You won’t. This is it. They just need you to rest. I’ll be right here while you do so; I won’t let them do anything to you that you wouldn’t want. But you need sleep. You’re wasting away on me.” His hands push firmer on Steve's shoulders. Imploring again, searching and hoping for Steve to understand. He reiterates, “You’re wasting away.”

“I’m not,” Steve weakly argues.

“You are,” Eddie whispers, “You look like you haven’t slept in days, Stevie. And the doctors already told me how you’ve been refusing to eat. That’s not good. You gotta rest and get healthy, to a place they need you to be, so that you can go home.” Steve doesn't like that idea. Back to his big, almost always empty house. Eddie must read that, somewhere, on his face. He gently splays his hand over Steve’s chest, shoving at it with light force. Promising low, "Home can be with Robin or Nancy or me, Stevie. But you have to get better first. You have to. Just lay down and talk to me, sweetheart."

Hesitantly, Steve lays down with Eddie’s push. Head lolled on the pillow so that his face is pointed towards where Eddie sits. He stretches out his hand and weakly grips to Eddie’s fingers. “I’m scared,” he finally confesses. The words falling heavy from the tip of his tongue.

And though Eddie knows, Steve can see it in his eyes, he asks anyway, “What’s got you spooked?”

Steve blinks groggily. Wrung out from the tears. From the sobbing. The speaking. From existing the way he has been. “Of not being myself,” he answers, muttering. “I can’t drive now. I can’t work out the way I used to. Can’t even stand to use the bathroom. I’m not losing more of my limbs, but it’s like I’m gone.”

Eddie’s thumb pushes firmly into the back of Steve’s hand. And he looks straight on at Steve’s tired, tired, tired eyes. “I ain’t letting you go,” he swears. “We’ll find what works. We’ll find you again, I promise. Especially now that we have all the time in the world.”

“It’s going to take so long, though. You don’t want to be stuck with me during that.”

Simply, Eddie shrugs. “So, what? I’ll be figuring out myself again, too. And from what I’ve heard, you’re the kind of guy to take no shit. If anything, you’re going to be the one stuck with me.” His voice grows lower and lower as Steve’s eyes dip to a near close. “Go ahead and sleep, Steve. It’s okay.”

With a long, grieving sigh, Steve closes his eyes completely. Mumbles, “You’re a good guy, Eddie.” Voice slow and sticky. “I’m glad you’re my friend.”

As Steve’s grumbling snores fill the room, Eddie stands to lightly open the curtains. Soft sunlight pooling through the room. It makes Steve glow in yellows, his hair shiny and his skin glistening. He’s worse for wear, that much is evident to Eddie. But he can work with that. He’ll accommodate all that Steve is willing to give. And he’ll keep an eye and an ear out, too. Even if that’s all he’s allowed to offer.

He sits back in his original chair. Stretching himself so that he can lean over Steve's bed. And swipes the stray hair away from his eyes. “I’m glad you’re my friend, too, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs into the white noise of the room. He stays until visiting hours are over.

And comes back every day until Steve gets to go home.

——— Their prosthetics don’t match perfectly to their skin (the prosthetic’s skin being a shade darker than what they’d usually have), but they make do with them. And they find a way to joke about it. To mingle with the still raw ache of what they’ve lost.

Steve ends up painting the nails of Eddie’s prosthetic hand to match his real fingernails, black and shiny. Eddie aids with changing out Steve’s sneakers so that they match his polos and sweaters. And they find it especially funny, when they get together and hook up for the first time, to be laying in a pile of limbs quite literally on Eddie’s bed—but to look off at his side table, their arm and leg are cradling each other. Just as they do. Holding one another on the worst days, through the phantom pains and the afternoons where they sob. It comes easily, being with one another.

It takes time, like all things do. Like watching paint dry on some days. Or waiting for water to boil on others. Prone to lash out, sure. Prone to stay stock still in bed with far away eyes. But they’re in it. They live it. And as time pushes, days grow to be normal. To be expected.

“We should draw tattoos on our limbs,” Eddie suggests one day.

“I can’t draw, Eds. But what do you have in mind?”

In it for the long haul, with a drawing of a hand, is put on Steve’s prosthetic calf.

And then some, with a leg wearing a Nike sneaker, goes on Eddie’s wrist.

“Can’t believe my first tattoo literally cost an arm and a leg,” Steve mutters later, admiring the work Eddie’s done. And all they can do afterwards is laugh until their stomachs hurt, air is impossible to catch, and their cheeks are wet with tears.

🦾🦿—————🦾🦿 When my mom was alive and, obviously, still used her prosthetic leg, she'd threaten to beat up my bullies by taking her leg off and whacking them with it. Also, her leg had a piece of see-through plastic on it where she could have something customized in it, it said "Kicking ass and taking names."

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #disabled steve harrington #disabled eddie munson #amputee steve harrington #amputee eddie munson

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 7 months

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with al being in the st play and no mention of wayne, i'm going to throw out my own modified hc for the munsons and how eddie came to live with wayne:

i still like eddie coming back to hawkins in middle school, so in my head al left hawkins as soon as he graduated/on some scheme, or just good ol' wanting to get out of his hometown.

his older brother wayne had dropped out of high school to go out on the road. their own dad being absent, someone had to provide for them...so wayne has been driving cross-country in a big rig, collecting mugs, sending hats back for his nephew from all the places he visits.

anyway! al left town, meets eddie's mom, she gets sick, al gets locked up, wayne takes eddie back to hawkins after eddie's mom dies.

he takes a silent eddie home to the one-bedroom trailer (why would wayne have needed more than one? he was always on the road), with nothing but a dufflebag and a single cardboard box tucked under the kid's lanky arms.

wayne gets a job in town at the plant, gives eddie the bedroom because of course he's going to, a boy needs his space after all.

he comes home early one morning to find the lights on in the bathroom, and the unmistakable buzzing of the clippers floating down the hall.

he comes around the doorway quietly to find eddie, his head of curls shorn clean off, tears in his eyes, but a soft smile on his lips as he watches himself shove a hat onto his head in the mirror above the sink.

he takes the cap off, turning to the box wayne can now see balanced on the edge of the tub, and returning with a different one, sliding it onto his unevenly stubbled scalp.

"What've you been up to, boy?" wayne says, surprising his nephew.

he forces himself to keep the smile on his face when eddie's horrified, startled expression jumps to him.

"Way--Uncle Wayne, I'm sorry, sorr--I just. I wanted--I just wanted to--" Eddie cuts himself off when wayne steps close, picking up the clippers and standing behind the kid.

wayne slides the cap off eddie's head and puts it on his own; it's one that he sent eddie back from that weird cave/lake place he stopped at down in tennessee, "Let's get you cleaned up, hm?"

eddie nods warily up at wayne's reflection, and he gets to work, cleaning up the bits of hair eddie couldn't quite reach.

wayne gets it, he does. did somethin' similar shortly after realizing it was going to be him that'll have to step up for al and their ma. got a shitty tattoo of a star on his shoulder by a shitty friend with a shitty needle.. just to feel like he had control of one thing in his own life...before everything he did was all for someone else.

he doesn't mind it all much anymore; he wants to be the person here for eddie. he wants to do everything he is physically capable of doing--and more--for his nephew.

eddie wanted the same thing. wanted control over one thing in his life. one thing that he did cause he wanted to, and not because of everything that's been happening around him (and to him) outside his control.

once finished, wayne clicks off the clippers, brushes some of the hairs from eddie's shoulders and head (scrubbing a little too hard just to see the kid smile and try to bat him away), finally placing the 'Lost Sea' cap back on his head. "There. All cleaned up now." he says into the mirror, resting his hands on the kid's shoulders. "Glad to see you kept all'a them." he says, tilting his chin to the box balanced on the tub.

eddie glances at the box full of hats and mumbles out a "Of course I did, you got them for me."

wayne's eyes start to burn, and eddie continues, not seeming to notice. "Hats aren't really for me, and my stupid hair always got in the way of me wearing 'em anyway but--" he cuts himself off, looking down at the curls of hair still lounging around in the sink. "But, you got them for me, and..and I wanted you to know I appreciate them and..my stupid brain and stupid hair started reminding me of mom..."

a few tears slip off his cheeks

"Hey now, no worries kiddo." wayne says, soft as he can, as he comes to crouch down at eddie's side instead, turning the kid to face him. "Makes this old heart'a mine feel all warm and fuzzy knowin' you kept 'em all, but'cha don't gotta wear 'em on my account if you don't like 'em."

eddie finally looks up at him, blinking a couple more tears away.

wayne holds up a hand, "Honest truth. We'll head down to the hardware store in town and getcha some hooks instead. You can hang 'em up wherever you want."

eddie sniffs, but smiles just a bit. "You couldn't've told me before I hacked all my hair off?"

lmao this got away from me but @withacapitalp and @stevesbipanic stared saying things in the discord and i HAD to write it down 😅

#THE MUNSONS MY BELOVEDS #wayne munson #eddie munson #al munson #st #stranger things #stranger things play #eddie munson hc #wayne munson hc #noelle writes

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sooverwhitesandpinks · 2 years

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"But you're a chick!" (Eddie Munson)

Summary: You're the new girl in town and Corroded Coffin needs a drummer

Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, sexism, minor language, the briefest mention of weed, I picked the name Nick because the character is labeled as Freak 1 and that wasn't gonna cut it, idk it's my first time doing warnings

Word Count: I think around 1400

You'd been in Hawkins all of three weeks and made all of zero friends. Maybe it was because you didn't try, or maybe it was the "freakish" vibe you gave off. (Someone said it not so quietly behind you in class). Either way, you were content with loneliness, you only had a couple months left in high school, then you could hightail it out of Indiana and back to New York.

The only slightly intriguing thing about Hawkins High was the reigning school freak, Eddie Munson. He was one of the few people who didn't look like they were attempting to model themselves after Barbie or Ken.

He became all the more intriguing as he walked through the hallways, tacking flyers to the wall every couple feet. You stood across the hall as the lunch bell rang, watching shamelessly from your locker as everyone crowded toward the cafeteria. Once the hallway population was reduced to you, Eddie, and a few stragglers, you made your approach.

"What are these for?" You asked, plucking a slip of paper from Eddie's elbow, covered by the black sleeve of his Hellfire Club t-shirt, though you could still see the bat tattoos adorning his skin.

"My band. Gareth's mom is pulling him out," he replied, not looking up at first as he smoothed the paper onto the painted cinderblock.

"Corroded Coffin?" You questioned, quirking a brow as your eyes scanned the flyer. It was a help wanted poster, the band needed a drummer.

"Yeah, listen-" Eddie finally looked up at you as you leaned against the wall he was facing. His eyes flitted over your face, taking in the nose ring and slightly smudged mascara. You watched his eyes drop to your Black Sabbath t-shirt that was lazily tucked into a pair of jeans. His eyes stopped momentarily where fishnets peaked through the holes in your pants, and again on the chucks that covered your feet before he finally looked back up to your face, where a knowing smirk had since taken over.

"I'm listening," you chime, reminding him that he was mid sentence. You carefully took in each of his features and decided that he was just as attractive up close as he was from a distance.

"Ahem. We're looking for a drummer, and I'm sorry princess, but this isn't the gig for you," he finished, eyes not leaving yours.

"But I'm drummer," You shrugged. "I haven't been in Hawkins long, but there can't be that many of drummers here willing to play with 'Corroded Coffin'."

"You're a drummer?" He asked, letting the dig at his band name slide. He shook his head. "Maybe guitar, but the drums, princess? You seem a bit dainty."

You didn't budge as he looked over your arms, that were admittedly small, but that didn't mean you couldn't rule a drum set.

"And you seem like you're too old for high school, yet here we are," You winked.

"Ouch," he rolled his eyes and clutched his chest, plucking the flyer back from you with his other hand.

"Do you need a drummer or not?" You shook your head. You weren't completely sure why you were so persistent about him letting you join the band, but you chalked it up to needing to prove him wrong now that he'd decided to be a sexist dipshit.

"Maybe we'll give you a try," he smiled. "Info's on the page, auditions are at 7."

"Maybe I'll be there," you shrugged, biting your lip in fake contemplation.

"What's your name, princess?" He asked, very obviously looking over your messy hair then down to your lips as you answered. Was he-- was he flirting?

"Y/N"

"Eddie," he responded, bowing as he presented himself like you had just experienced a king.

"Are you always so theatric?" You questioned, leaning down to his eye level since he had yet to raise from his bow.

"Do you want me to be?" His eyes widened daringly. You rolled your eyes to hide the smile that threatened to show. You rose back onto the wall, and he followed.

You paused for a moment before you smirked at him and kicked off the wall, heading for the exit.

"Later, Eddie!"

"See you tonight, princess!"

You didn't turn around, just shook your head and flipped him the bird.

***

You pulled up to the address, blasting Flash of the Blade by Iron Maiden. You spotted Eddie front and center with two guys on either side of him. You recognized as his Hellfire cronies that usually followed him through school.

"You mind?" You heard him shout over your music which had very clearly interrupted his practice.

"No, not at all," you grinned, cranking up the stereo volume. You let it go for a few more seconds before turning off the car and stepping into the garage.

"Guys this is Y/N, Y/N this is Jeff and Nick," he gestured, already annoyed by your behavior.

You gave a dramatic curtsy to the other two Corroded Coffin members.

"Why is the new chick here?" Nick asked.

"She's here to audition to be our drummer," Eddie replied, sighing.

"But she's a chick," Jeff turned to you, confused. "But you're a chick!"

"I am indeed a woman, asshole," You retorted, making your way to the drum kit and grabbing the sticks that sat on top of the stool.

You ignored their unsubtle arguments about your gender and possible inability to hit drums in a particular order in a particular rhythm because of the fact that you're a girl. You quickly arranged a few pieces of the kit before interrupting their argument with a quick drum fill to test the placement of each piece.

"Can we start?" You asked, quirking a brow.

"Can you play Sabbath?" Eddie asked, you couldn't help but notice the glint in his eye.

"Which song?" You questioned, adjusting your grip on the sticks. He smirked as you accepted his challenge.

"Heaven and Hell," he squinted. You gave a nod as the senior members of the band turned toward you to watch as you played.

You gave them a count off before striking the cymbals. Eddie picked up with heavy guitar and you all fell into the song. You kept the beat steady and played the song near perfectly. It had been a constant within all of your mixtapes since it released.

As the song finished out, you analyzed each of their expressions. Nick seemed shocked, yet impressed. Jeff attempted to remain unaffected but there was a bit of surprise beaming through the chinks in his armor.

Eddie didn't look surprised, he looked almost dazed. Like he'd just taken the strongest hit of his life.

"What's that look for?" You asked, nudging your chin at him.

"I think I'm in love," he answered, lips pulling down into a frown as he nodded with furrowed brows.

"Get over it," you hummed, praying that your cheeks weren't flaming.

"Yeah, fat chance, princess," he winked.

"Am I in the band or not?" You scratched your head with a drumstick, awaiting the verdict.

Eddie turned to his bandmates as they stared at one another for a few moments.

"The chick can drum," Nick gave in.

"What about Gareth?" Jeff whined.

"Gareth isn't coming back. His mom pulled him from the band, he's barely allowed to come to Hellfire," Eddie reasoned.

"And she's better," Nick mumbled lowly. You felt yourself smirk in pride.

"And she's better," Eddie exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically.

"I don't know," Jeff continued like you weren't even there.

"Plus she's my future girlfriend, you can't say no," Eddie said, placing a hand on Jeff's shoulder.

"HA!" you shook your head.

"She will be if you say yes," Eddie egged on.

"If Gareth's really not coming back then fine," Jeff sighed.

"Yes!" Eddie hopped up on the couch against the wall, jumping up and down.

"Welcome to Corroded Coffin, Y/N," Jeff shook your hand.

"But at what cost?" You amirked, turning to watch Eddie "the freak" Munson squeal like a girl at the prospect of you joining his crew.

"Just wait, princess," Eddie smirked, shaking his head lovingly.

"Oh, I'm swooning," you clutched your chest, hoping to cover up the surely audible sound of your heart beating.

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #stranger things #st4 eddie #fanfic #oneshot

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burgundybmw · 2 years

Text

Munson's Mixtape

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Cunningham!Reader

Word Count: 3,155

Warnings: None.

Summary: Chrissy has been acting weird, and like a good big sister Y/N drives to Hawkins from Notre Dame to check in on her. Only to find out she has plans to meet up with Eddie Munson. Things take a turn for the worse and now Y/N gets wrapped in to the horrors of Hawkins. Hey, at least she has the company of the guitarist she was sweet on back in high school for comfort.

Author’s Note: I really struggled to write this chapter for some reason. This is from Eddie's point of view, the following chapter will show the reader's at the same time this chapter takes place. Hope you guys enjoy!

Track Fourteen

Eddie never thought he'd regret his tattoos. He always thought that they were a reminder of who he was, or what he liked, at the time he got them. He loved the ink on his skin, but now he was regretting one tattoo in particular. Just a bit. When he first got the bats on his arm, he thought about Ozzy Osbourne. Now, every time he would look down at his arm, he would be reminded about how Steve Harrington was almost torn to shreds by these pyscho demobats. At the very least, Steve got his Ozzy moment. He bit the bat before beating it to death, the guy might look like a walking Calvin Klein ad, but that was some of the most metal shit Eddie had ever seen.

A massive colony of demobats was guarding the entrance to the gate back to regular old Hawkins, so that left Eddie, Nancy, Robin, and Steve stuck in the Upside Down. They had run for cover under a this version of Skull Rock, shielding them from the bats above. Eddie could hear their bone chilling squeals all around him, the sickening sound of wings flapping as the bats searched for them. As much as he hated his current situation, he was happy about one thing. Y/N was safe above ground. Eddie just hoped she wouldn't do something stupid like follow him down here, the idea of her getting attacked by the demobats made him sick to his stomach.

After what felt like an eternity, the sound of wings flapping became quieter. It looked like the colony had flown away. They all decided it was time for them to move, apparently Nancy Wheeler of all people had guns in her bedroom. Nothing should really surprise Eddie anymore, but that certainly did. So now they were off trekking through the woods, cold, wet, and dirty from the fight earlier. Nancy and Robin were up ahead, and that left Steve and Eddie trailing behind them. Eddie didn't know Harrington very well back when they were still in school together. He always assumed the guy was a dick, especially after he heard about his friends spray painting Nancy 'The Slut' Wheeler on the Hawkins movie theater. But that opinion has changed now.

"Eddie. Eddie. Hey man, uh... Listen, I just uh... I just want to say thanks. For saving my ass back there." Steve said as he jogged up to stand beside him.

"Shit, you saved your own ass man. I mean, that was a real Ozzy move you pulled back there." Eddie could admit he was impressed.

"Ozzy?" Steve asked. Eddie had to control himself from rolling his eyes.

"When you took a bite out of that bat." Eddie said, Steve still looked confused.

"Ozzy Osbourne? Black Sabbath? He bit a bat's head off on stage." Steve looked disgusted as he said it.

"It's very metal, what you did. That's all I'm saying." That was a high compliment, coming from Eddie.

"Thanks." Steve replied.

"Henderson told me you were a badass. Insisted on the matter, in fact." Eddie said begrudgingly.

"Wait, Henderson said that?" Steve asked.

"Oh yeah. Shit. Kid worships you, dude. Like, you have no idea. It's kinda annoying, to be honest. And Y/N, after you guys showed up, we talked a bit. She said you were a nice guy, compared to some of the other dudes on the team that is." That part gutted Eddie a bit, how Y/N talked about him. Right before they went to sleep one night, she told a story about how Steve had given her a ride home when Matthew Grayson left early from the game without her. They didn't know each other well, but he offered her the ride anyway. She told Eddie that he said it wouldn’t be right for her to walk home alone in the dark, and he didn't put any moves on her. Eddie thought the bar must have been incredibly low for that to be considered something to praise, but he didn't say anything.

"And, I don't know why I really care, what they think, but uh, guess I got a little jealous, Steve. I guess I couldn't accept the fact that that Steve Harrington was actually... a good dude. Rich parents, popular, chicks love him. Not a douche? No way, man. No way. That, like, flies in the face of all laws in the universe and my personal Munson doctrine." There was a brief moment of silence after Eddie's speech, and normally he wasn't prone to word vomit, but he couldn't stop himself from talking anyway.

"Still super jealous, by the way. Which is why I would have never jumped in that lake to save your ass. Not under any, uh... normal circumstances." A growl waved through the distance, they both stopped for a moment, fear rippled through Eddie's body. He saw Steve continue on, so he followed.

"Nope. Outside of DnD, I am no hero. I see danger, I turn heel and run..." Eddie started before Steve interrupted.

"That's not true." Steve replied.

"Yeah man, it totally is." Eddie scoffed, he didn't want his sympathy.

"You didn't run after Chrissy died, not right after that is. Max saw you leave with Y/N, hours after it happened. You could have run then, but you stayed with her." Steve sounded so sure of himself, like what he said was an absolute truth. Eddie wished he had that confidence in himself.

"I almost did. I almost ran. Shit, everything in me wanted to jump in my van and get right out of Dodge, but Y/N wouldn't budge. I couldn't... I couldn't leave her like that, man." That night would haunt Eddie forever. The image of Y/N holding her sister's corpse, singing songs from the Wizard of Oz. She was the only reason he stayed, she was the only reason he had any ounce of courage throughout this whole endeavor.

"That proves my point. You didn't run then, and you didn't run when I was pulled under. You jumped right in. Give yourself a break, man." Steve said as he lightly tapped Eddie's chest.

"See? The only reason I came in here was 'cause of the ladies in our party. Those two, came in straight after you. And Y/N, I know she was looking at me from the shore line. Now, I was too ashamed to be the one who stayed behind. I didn't want to row that boat back to her and show her how much of a coward I really am. But Wheeler right there, she didn't waste a second. Not one second. She just dove right in. Now, I don't know what happened between you two, but if I were you, I would get her back. 'Cause that was unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen." Eddie said, it more for himself than for Steve. It wasn't that he didn't believe what he said, he did, 100%. It was just that if Steve Harrington couldn't get the girl, what shot in hell did Eddie have?

"Well what about you and Y/N?" Steve asked defensively.

"What about us, man?" Us. There wasn't an us, not between Eddie and Y/N.

"You say that what Nance did was an unambiguous sign of true love, but you can't see what's standing in right front of you, dude." Steve replied. Eddie rolled his eyes and started to walk away, he didn't want to have this conversation with Steve at the moment. But Harrington grabbed his arm, holding him still.

"I'm serious. It's so obvious Y/N loves you, but you still haven't made a move." Steve said has he let go of Eddie's arm.

"Listen man, I know she cares about me. I'm not that blind, but... Y/N doesn't love me the way I love her. I've loved her, silently, for years. Less than a week of close proximity true love does not make." It was Steve's turn to roll his eyes at Eddie.

"Y/N's liked you long before this week Eddie. She used to get shit for it from the guys on the team back when she was in school. Even when she was with Grayson, she only had eyes for you. We could all see it. She'd stare at you from her seat at the cafeteria, I noticed it back when I still sat with the team. Grayson always used to bitch about it, said he wasn't going to lose his girl to Eddie 'The Freak' Munson. But she was never his girl, she was yours. Even though neither of you admitted it, it was always there." Eddie couldn't breathe for a moment. He felt as if his heart stopped beating, right there in the Upside Down, right before it starting pumping again. It was loud, beating so loud in his chest. There was no way, no possible way Y/N had liked him for that long. Steve had to be wrong, but... the more he thought about it. The more he allowed himself to think about it, Eddie had hope it was true. Maybe, just maybe, she loved him just like he loved her.

Eddie didn't have much time to ponder the complexities of possibly requited love before he felt the ground beneath him start to shake. Robin was yelling something in the distance, and then Nancy took off in a sprint through the woods. Steve and Eddie looked at each other once more before following her through the trees. Once they made it to the clearing, Eddie and Steve sighed in relief. They could see the Wheeler house in the distance from where they stood, and the group took off running to get their destination.

Eddie slowly walked through the door of the Wheeler house, nearly every inch of the walls was covered by the same creepy vines that infested the Upside Down. Nancy and Robin went upstairs to go find her stash of guns, while Steve and Eddie remained downstairs.

"Mom, it was Jason. I know it was him." That was Y/N's voice, Eddie could recognize it anywhere. Was she here? With her mother of all people? Eddie followed the sound to the living room, but no one was there.

"Shut your mouth young lady. Jason is a good, sweet, God fearing young man. He loved your sister! He wouldn't make a pact with the Devil, stop spreading these lies." That must be Mrs. Cunningham's voice. As faint as it was, her voice sounded like nails scratching on a chalkboard.

"I'm not lying! She told me they fought a lot, and Jason was paranoid she was going to leave him! See here, I have Chrissy's diary..." Y/N's voice was cutting out. Eddie walked further into the living room, trying to get her voice back.

"That's the only explanation! Jason signed his name in the Devil's black book!" Eddie's mind was reeling with questions. Why was she pinning this on Jason? She knew he had nothing to do with Vecna, and as much as Eddie didn't like the guy, he was innocent. And what was this talk about the Devil? What the hell was going on up there?

"Are you sure about this young lady?" That was Chief Powell. That's when it clicked in his mind, she was covering for him. She was giving Eddie an out if they couldn't prove his innocence, and Jason was her scapegoat.

"Yes. Something is wrong with Hawkins, so horribly wrong. We all know it, but are too afraid to admit it. I don't know how Jason made his evil pact, but it's the only thing that makes sense..." Her voice cut out again for a moment, before resuming again.

"Jason is trying to pin this on Eddie, he knows what people in town think of him. It would be so easy... but he didn't fool me. He won't get away with this." Eddie knew he should feel guilty, but he didn't. If it was him versus Jason in a legal battle over Vecna's crimes, Jason's family at least had money, and he didn't. They could afford a good lawyer. They wouldn't try to cover it up like they would with Eddie.

"Alright then. If you wouldn't mind going into the kitchen with the others Miss. Cunningham, I'd like a word with your mother." Chief Powell said with a calm voice. Eddie didn't understand how he could sound so collected after hearing a story like that, but he wouldn't question it. All of the sudden he heard Steve shouting from the other room.

"Dustin! Dustin! Dustin! Can you hear me? Dustin! Du- Hello? Hel... Hello?" Steve was in the kitchen, screaming at nothing. Robin and Nancy came running from upstairs to see what was going on.

"Maybe he really does have rabies." said Robin as she stared at Steve's manic display.

"Steve, what are you doing?" Nancy asked.

"He's here. Henderson. That little shit, he's here. He's like... He's in the walls or something. Just listen." Steve replied.

"Yea, I just heard Y/N's voice too. She was in the other room. Shit, her mom and Chief Powell are all there too." Eddie replied. Steve shushed him, and they all stayed quiet. That's when he heard Dustin's distorted voice, just like how Y/N's was.

"That brings us to the question you first raised. How and why is there a gate at Lover's Lake? Let's analyze. What do Eleven and Vecna have in common?" Yea, that was definitely Dustin's voice.

They all started screaming his name, walking around trying to see if they could get them to hear their calls.

"Alright, either this kid can't hear us or he's being a total douchebag." Steve said, clearly annoyed with his plan to get Dustin's attention failing.

"Will found a way." They all turned to look at Nancy when she said it.

"What?" Steve asked.

"Will. He found a way to speak to Joyce through the lights." Nancy ran off to try and turn some of the house lights on, and Eddie had no clue what she was talking about. How could you talk to someone through the lights? It sounded like something straight out of Poltergeist. Eddie didn't question her thought process, she had experience with this shit before, so he kept his mouth shut. Nancy kept turning the light switch on and off, but nothing was happening. That was until Steve flashed his light on to the chandelier above them.

"Guys? You seeing this?" There was an orange glow surrounding the light fixture, it looked as if there was glitter bouncing around the air. Nancy lifted her hand to touch it, and the glow began to sparkle around her fingers, it reminded Eddie of that Disney movie his parents took him to see as a kid. It was Peter Pan, and this glow looked like Tinkerbell's fairy dust.

"Woah..." They all stood around Nancy and her fairy dust, Dustin's faint voice in the background. They all lifted their hands up to touch the light, and Eddie could feel a warm vibration throughout his fingertips.

"It tickles..." Steve remarked, one hand in the orange glow and the other holding the flashlight.

"It feels, kind of good." Robin replied. Eddie agreed, it did feel good. Everything was cold and half dead in the Upside Down, this was the first thing that felt alive since he got down here.

"Does anyone know Morse Code?" Nancy asked. The others shrugged their shoulders, but Eddie remembered something his uncle taught him once. Uncle Wayne had an old telegraph in his trailer, and Eddie used to mess around with it as a kid. He asked his Uncle if he knew how to use it. He told him that he had forgotten most of it, but he remembered one thing, and he taught it to Eddie.

"Wait, does SOS count? Is that... is that good?" Eddie replied.

"Yea Eddie, that's perfect." Nancy replied. Eddie nodded and started tapping his fingers into the light, three short taps, followed by three longs taps, and then three shorts taps again. Eddie could hear the faint voice of a girl as he was tapping.

"You said you followed Vecna through lights, right?" The girls voice asked.

"Yea why?" Dustin replied, his voice as distinct as Y/N's was in the living room.

"Because I think he's here." Eddie didn't stop his tapping, hoping Henderson would figure out it was them.

"It's working." Robin said, her eyes fixated on the flicking light.

"Hey, uh, remember when I said they wouldn't be stupid enough to go through Watergate?" The group scoffed as they heard Dustin's distorted voice throughout the room. As if they had much of a choice.

"Yeah?" Lucas replied.

"I overestimated them." Dustin said in a disappointed tone. Eddie rolled his eyes, Henderson could be such a little punk.

"How do you know it's them? What if it's Vecna or something else? What if they're trying to trick us?" That was Y/N's voice, and as much as Eddie loved how protective she was, he really needed her to stop questioning Dustin.

"It's Eddie. I know Steve, Robin, and Nancy don't know Morse Code, but he knows S.O.S. Nancy knows about Will communicating through the lights when he went to the Upside Down, it has to be them." Dustin replied.

"Eddie? Eddie if that's you can you show me a sign? If it's Vecna you can kindly go fuck yourself, I'm not in the mood for this." Eddie could imagine Y/N standing there in the kitchen, hands on her hips and a serious look on her face. Eddie chuckled to himself, and thought of a way to show her it was him. That's when an idea popped in his head, it was a long shot but it was the only thing he'd think would work.

He began tapping the beat to For Whom The Bell Tolls with each light fixture. If this wouldn't work as a sign, he didn't think anything else could.

"What are you doing, man?" Steve asked.

"It's Y/N's favorite song." Eddie replied, tapping away. He didn't know if she'd recognize it from the drums alone, but he prayed she did. He couldn't figure out a way to tap the lyrics, but he didn't have to.

"Make his fight on the hill in the early day... constant chill deep inside... Shouting gun, on they run through the endless grey. On they fight, for they're right, yes, but who's to say... Oh God Eddie baby you're a genius!" He could hear Y/N cheer. Steve gave Eddie a knowing look, but he ignored it.

"Hey! Meet us in Nancy's room, I've got an idea!" Dustin yelled.

Eddie stopped his tapping and followed Nancy and the rest of the group to the stairs, hoping that whatever plan Dustin cooked up with would work. Any minute longer in the Upside Down was a minute too much in his opinion.

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x cunningham!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things s4 #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanficton #stranger things #stranger things fluff #stranger things angst #stranger things x reader

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medusapelagia · 8 months

Text

10 AU-gust: Exile

Rating: Teen and up Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson. Eddie Munson/Original Character WT: open ending WC: 1970

“What do you mean when you talk about exile?”

“Exactly what you think, Eddie. You have to leave Hawkins and never come back.”

Eddie shakes his head “I can’t! I have a family! And friends! My entire life is in Hawkins! I can’t leave just like that!”

The woman in a suit gives a sad smile “Eddie, there is nothing for you in Hawkins. The majority thinks that you are a murderer and your friends and family think that you are dead.”

Eddie was always restless, he has always had that kind of energy that doesn’t let you stop even when you need to, but now he is so still he can hardly breathe.

“What… what did you say?”

The woman takes a yellow envelope “Edward Munson has died on the 27th of March. He was a victim of the earthquake.”

“You are joking. You can’t really…”

“This is your new identity.” she concludes, offering him the envelope.

“My friends will search for me!” He rebukes angrily.

“They did. Some of them were particularly insistent. I think that the boy’s name was Harrington? He refused to leave the hospital.”

Steve?

They almost didn’t know each other and now he was searching for him?

“He will never believe that I’m dead and…”

“You are right. He didn’t. We had to sedate him, for his own good. We gave him something Brenner was working on. When he wakes up he will not remember what happened, so he will not search for you.”

“But the others…”

“He was the only one in the hospital when you were brought in and your injuries were pretty bad. Everyone else believed us when we said that you died.” the woman puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder “I know that this must be hard for you, you're just a child after all, but this could be a good thing for you. A new life. A new opportunity to be happy. You can move wherever you want, the government will pay for everything, and you will even have a monthly paycheck. It is not so bad, no?”

It’s not bad but he is going to lose the few things that he has.

The few friends that he has.

Shit.

Ok, he doesn’t have to panic. The last time that someone from the government got into his life he ended up at Wayne’s place, which wasn’t a bad thing, maybe this could be a good thing too.

No, no, no! It’s not a fucking good thing! It’s horrible! Dreadful! But there is nothing he can do.

“George Lockwood?”

“Born in San Francisco, an orphan. Now you choose: where do you want to move?”

There are many places he would like to live in. New York, Los Angeles, and maybe even somewhere in Mexico.

But if he is going to have another chance at living there is only one place where he would like to start his new life.

“Las Vegas.”

***

Ok, maybe Las Vegas was better as an idea than an actual town.

Two months in the middle of the desert and he is already deeply regretting it.

It’s so hot that he feels like melting almost all day long. Luckily for him, he had to change his clothes too.

Now he is a receptionist at the Flamingo Hotel. He wears a fucking suit all day long, and he plays at the fake weddings at the chapels by night.

He sees all the concerts that he can and finally starts to get used to his life.

After a couple of years, he almost doesn’t remember how his life was before.

He has many new tattoos on his skin, drawings that mean nothing to the boy in the tattoo parlor but that tell Eddie’s story.

He has a Garfield cup on the inside of his left elbow, a twenty faced dice on the back of his shoulder, a little walkie, a thinking cap and a little pony on his right arm, a pair of pom poms, a basketball and a nailed bat on his left arm, and a pair of gruesome bloody bat wings on his back.

He has a boyfriend, Raphael, who keeps telling him that he should stop getting new tattoos, but Eddie can’t stop. When he sees the horrible scars on his body in the mirror he looks at his tattoos, asking himself how is everyone, if they defeated the fucking demon or not.

It’s so strange being in love with a boy who knows nothing about him.

Raphael knows George. He knows that he was born in San Francisco and that he moved to Las Vegas for a dare with an old friend. That he stopped there because he lost everything he owned on the green tables and then he started work as a dishwasher and ended up as a receptionist.

He knows the scars on Eddie’s body but he thinks that a rabid dog attacked him when he was a kid.

He knows that he is an orphan and he has no idea that somewhere in Indiana there is an old man who is probably still mourning his death.

Raphael knows everything and nothing at the same time.

They never sleep together because Eddie can’t explain to him why he keeps sleeping with the lights on or why he wakes up in the middle of the night screaming for nightmares.

Last night, when he was playing while Elvis was officiating the wedding between a very drunk couple, for a moment his heart faltered when he thought that the groom was Steve.

He wasn’t, of course, but still, his stomach clenched when he saw a chestnut boy.

Sometimes he wonders what happened to him, to the boys, to Wayne.

But he can’t go back to his life so he keeps going on with his routine: wake up, go to work, play at the wedding or fuck Raphael somewhere, then back to bed ready for another day.

A nice red-haired girl is doing the check-in, and Eddie’s hands stop for a moment when the girl tells him “We have a reservation, the name is Harrington. Steve Harrington.”

“Sorry? I didn’t catch the name.”

“Oh, maybe under Stephen Harrington?”

Eddie searches through the reservation and finally finds Stephen James Harrington.

What the fuck.

“Ok, I just need your IDs and…”

And he is there.

This time he is sure it’s him.

He’s older than he remembered, but the smile is still the same.

“Steve.” he murmurs, and the girl smiles at him.

“It’s him. Do you know each other?” she asks gently, while Steve gets closer.

Steve’s smile falters when he sees him.

“Do I know you? You look… familiar.”

“I just have a very familiar face.” Eddie says sternly “If you give me a moment I’ll give you your room card and you’ll be free to enjoy your holiday with your beautiful wife.”

“She is not my wife. We reserved a room with two single beds. Is there something wrong with our reservation?”

The red-haired girl looks at him with a look of conspiracy “My girlfriend is going to play tonight in this hotel, it’s her first important gig so we booked a room but she doesn’t know. Can you tell me if Robin Buckley has already arrived?”

Robin Buckley?! Holy shit! Maybe Steve doesn’t remember him, but Buckley will!

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He quickly checks, and she has. an hour before his shift started.

“She is already here but I can’t give you the room number for privacy reasons, I’m sorry.”

The girl pouts but Steve comforts her “We will find her. You know how clumsy she is. I’m sure she will break at least one statue during her stay, Vicky.”

The girl nods and they leave the counter, but before disappearing in an elevator Steve gives him a last look.

Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley are in his fucking hotel!

Shit!

***

“Did something happen?” Raphael asks him when they see each other that night.

“No. Why?” He lies through his teeth.

“I don’t know but you seem off.”

Ok, maybe being naked in Raphael’s bed after they had sex it’s not the right place to think about Harrington.

He gets up, takes a cigarette from the nightstand, and lights it up, looking at the glowing red of the lighter for a moment.

“I saw someone at work.”

“Someone famous?”

He shakes his head “An old friend.”

“This should be a nice thing, right?”

“He doesn’t remember me.”

Raphael sits on the bed, his lower half covered by the sheets “You told me you changed quite a bit.”

He nods.

“Maybe he didn’t recognize you.”

“I don’t know if I want him to recognize me or not.”

“Why?” A simple word without a simple answer.

He keeps smoking in silence.

“You need to tell me something?” Raphael asks worried.

“I was in love with him since high school. He never knew. There was a moment when I thought we could have been something more. But it passed and now I’m here and he didn’t recognize me.”

“I feel that there is more to this story. Are you still in love with him?”

He should lie. Tell him no, that he loves him and… “I think I am. I’m sorry.”

Raphael nods. He says nothing but Eddie can see that he is hurting.

“I’m really sorry.”

Raphael takes Eddie’s cigarette and starts smoking it “You should talk to him.” He says “See if he loves you back or if it’s just a figment of your imagination.” He puts out the cigarette “I will not judge you for being in love with another guy, even if it fucking hurts, but I deserve better than a secondhand lover.”

Eddie nods, gets dressed in silence and before leaving he says one more time “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

Great. He has fucked up the only relationship he has ever had. What now? Is he going to lose his fucking job?

He finds himself in front of the Flamingo. There are tourists everywhere.

It wasn’t bad while it lasted. What should he do now? Call the woman in a suit and ask her to move him again or…

“Are you ok?”

Jesus H Christ! How is this possible? Why on earth the man that he hasn’t seen in two years is standing behind right now?

“I’m fine thanks.”

“You don’t seem fine…”

“Why do you care in any case?”

Steve stops a few feet away from him “I don’t know why but I’m almost sure that I know you.”

“How could you? I was born in San Fransisco and I lived there until I transferred to Las Vegas a couple of years ago.”

“Have you ever been to Hawkins?”

“Never.”

“I don’t know why but you feel familiar.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means that my heart beats faster when you are close to me.”

“Bullshit. We have seen each other for a couple of minutes and…”

“Would you like to have a drink with me?”

No. He shouldn’t. It’s against all the rules the woman in a suit gave him years ago. Still…

“Why not? I’m George by the way.”

“Steve.” he stares at him “George, uh?”

Eddie stills, is it possible that he recognized him?

“You know what? You really look like a friend of mine. A metalhead. He died in an earthquake.”

Eddie takes a deep breath.

It’s just a drink with an old friend. Or a new friend.

“It seems an interesting story. Why don’t you tell me about him?” he asks, taking Steve’s hand with easiness and dragging him toward a bar in a little alley a few feet away.

It doesn’t matter if it’s like Cindarella's story and at midnight he will disappear, right now he wants to enjoy his night with the crowned prince.

#tumblr fic #myfanfic #steddie #au gust 2023 #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #writing challenge #exile #open ending #medusapelagia fanfic #medusapelagia #my fanfic

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edzmunson86 · 2 years

Text

𝕳𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊 𝕲𝖎𝖗𝖑 - 𝕰𝖉𝖉𝖎𝖊 𝕸𝖚𝖓𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖝 𝖋!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~

Stranger Things

Eddie Munson x f!reader (major)

Billy Hargrove x f!reader (minor)

Word count Chapter two: 2638 Words

|| Content - TW ||

×little bit of everything [drugs, abuse, mention of sex, sexual innuendo, fluff, bullying, cursing(expletives), SMUT, comfort, angst…etc.

(Y/N) Your name

(Y/H) Your Haircolor

(Y/E) Your Eycolor

#strangerthings #strangerthings4 #eddiemunson #eddie #munson #highschool #teenager #metal #metalgirl #hellfire #hellfiregirl #drugs #sexy #sexualcontent #abuse #d&d #fluff #billyhargrove #billy #hargrove #lemon #smut #comfort #friendship #teen #love

~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣 - 𝔸𝕚𝕣 𝕘𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕣 𝕤𝕠𝕝𝕠

He strolled around me and clasped his hands together behind him, then in front of him. Nervously he kneaded his rings and then pointed to the sofa.

"Uh, sit down." he said.

"I even cleaned up a bit earlier, so it doesn't look quite so... bad in here" he added.

"Do you live here alone?" I asked as I sat down.

"No, with my uncle, but he works at night in the factory and left earlier".

" Ah, okay. Em, do you want to start?"

" Yes... Yes! Wait, I'll just get the character sheet."

Eddie went to the back of the trailer where apparently his room was. I looked around a bit in the meantime. There was a cot in one corner. That answered my question about whether he and his uncle were sleeping in the same room. It would be a little strange if they were. The edge of the ceiling is covered with caps, probably collector's items. The kitchen looked like a pigsty, but that's to be expected with two men in the household. However, the place could be made a little cozier. I heard murmuring coming from the back.

"Is everything okay?" I called through the trailer.

"Ha, Found IT!" he yelled from behind and also immediately ran to me on the sofa while waving the leaf of paper around.

He put the sheet on the table and took off his jacket. He gave me a view of his tattoos and I saw the bats on his arm. Out of joy I squeaked something into myself. Totally perplexed, he looked at me.

" Everything... Okay?" he asked, very confused.

I quickly took off my jacket too and pulled down my tshirt on one side of my shoulder. He was totally amazed and laughed.

" What? The exact same tattoo? No way!" he chuckled and ran his finger over my shoulder. His touch made me tremble and sent a complete jolt of electricity through my body. When he noticed that the touch was already a bit more intimate, he quickly withdrew his hand. He pulled the sheet from the table and leaned over a bit to show it to me.

"So, what would you like to be? You can choose your race first. Choose between

Dwarf, Elf, Gnome, Half-Elf, Halfling, Half-Orc or Human".

" Oh, yeah..ehm I think maybe a half-elf would suit me or what do you say?"

" Yes, elves are very beautiful." he said and quickly looked at the sheet again to write something on it.

"Okay, now about your class. Do you want to be a cleric or a fighter or a wizard or a thief " with each or his voice becoming more definite.

"What does a cleric do?" I asked.

"They are more like supporters, meaning they heal our members, or set up cases so they are indirectly involved in combat and more of a helping hand to the others."

" Ah okay, then I think I would like to be a sorceress. Always wanted to be able to do magic" I added with a smile.

"Still gotta pick the weapon, would you like a dagger, a spear or a wand?"

"Oh as a sorceress it would be better if I had a wand right? However, with the dagger I could also defend myself with melee, but I think I'll take the staff. So I hope that the staff will strengthen my abilities. I choose the staff!" I said excitedly.

"I see you're thinking, Princess." he mumbled, and when he realized that he had just called me Princess, he became slightly embarrassed and I could see his cheeks turn a little pinkish.

" Sorry, I-" he continued.

I smiled at him and put my hand on his arm. At first he looked a little irritated at my hand and then he squinted at me through his wispy hair.

"Princess fits well, I like it!" I said delightedly.

He smiled and took a strand of hair that he pulled into his face to hide his blush. I could hardly believe how incredibly cute he was, the one who lets the tough guy hang out at school. He put a few crosses here and there on the paper and filled in a few blanks. I watched him over my shoulder and was closer to him than before. His stomach suddenly made itself strongly noticeable and grumbled deeply.

" Didn't you have dinner?"

" No, I ran out of time." he remarked and I knew exactly why, because he was still cleaning up to impress me. So I felt more comfortable here. It was really a very nice gesture from him. I put my hand on his back and leaned forward to see his face hidden under his curls.

"Shall I cook you something?" I asked him with a smirk on my lips.

"Eh, no the kitchen is not at all tidy and-" but he did not get to finish speaking because I was already in the kitchen and cleared a few pots to the side.

"That's okay, especially if you help me a little. You should not go hungry because of me." I told him over the kitchen counter.

He quickly got up, hurried to straighten the mess, but by his hectic nature, he just put everything a little differently.

"Here wait, slow down. "I said and pushed the pots and plates out of the sink.

I let water in and gave him the task to wash me a pot that I could use.

"May I look in your cupboards so I can find something to cook?" I asked politely.

" Yes, of course. Most of the food is in here," Eddie said, pointing to a tall cabinet.

I almost immediately saw the spaghetti, which was good because what else could I really cook off the cuff. I let the water boil for the pasta first and meanwhile cleaned up a bit and wiped off the counters.

"You see, you can clean up so quickly," I told him and poked him on the nose with foam on my hand. I had zero fear of touching him. Everything felt so familiar, like we had known each other forever. We also goofed around a bit until the pot lid started to rattle behind me, signaling that the water was boiling. I salted it and threw in half the package of spaghetti. I took another small pot and made some tomato sauce.

" Do you have any spices anywhere?"

"Yes, I think down there on the shelf, but I don't know how long they've been there..." he said, digging out a small box with several small bags in it.

"Won't kill us" I said and threw a few into the sauce.

"Cheese?" I asked while stirring the pasta and sauce at the same time.

" Yes, wait a minute. " he opened the fridge and took out a package of grated cheese.

" No! No cheese for us." he said while looking inside the package. I saw from the outside that the cheese was no longer yellow but green and almost alive.

"Okay then just noodles with sauce, I hope you still like it. I also take no guarantee" I shrugged my shoulders in the air.

Eddie laughed and asked if he could do anything else, but I denied. He threw himself on the sofa, propping himself up with one elbow on the backrest, and watched me cook.

"What?" I asked him while a grin flitted across my face.

"Nothing..." he said and after a short pause started again. " Just... no one has ever cooked for me before, that's crazy!" he said while shaking his hair.

" If you call that crazy, I'll show you something crazy right now." I told him, laughing as I drained the noodles and portioned them out on the plate. Eddie was already excited about what I was about to show him. I placed the plates on the table in front of us. I didn't care that I had already eaten at home. I didn't want to let him eat alone, because I knew that it just tasted better when there were two of us. I sat down and rummaged around in my backpack, from which I then pulled out a small baggie.

" What is this? Are these drugs? That's what you wanted to show me?" he said, a little shocked.

"Fool, that doesn't look like drugs. This is my emergency parmesan for the dining hall. Because at my old school there was never any when I went out to eat. Some idiot thought he had to eat a whole bowl of parmesan and he did it over and over again. That was really not very cool of them." While I was telling him that, I poured some over our pasta.

At first he looked at me quite disturbed but then he had to laugh so hard that it looked like he was about to choke. Especially because he had already shoveled a fork full of noodles into his mouth. His laugh was so warm and hearty that it was more contagious than ever. He then pulled the baggie out of my hand, opened it again and stuck his nose in.

"I still can't believe it, yes this is really crazy" he chewed behind and laughed again.

"Can I have the rest?" he then asked.

"Sure gladly, I will pack myself a new one tomorrow. But I need the bag back" I grinned.

I sat cross-legged on the sofa and took the plate on my lap. I actually always sat like that and found it uncomfortable to sit any other way. Eddie also leaned back and so half reclined in the other corner of the sofa, placing his plate on his stomach. While we ate, we made some small talk. I told him I was from Minnesota, what my school was like, what my parents were like, and why we were here in the first place. That's when we got on the subject of music. I mean, my Black Sabbath Tshirt certainly didn't pass him by. He suddenly jumped up, still with his fork in his hand, and ran to his room. He came back with a Metallica record.

"I don't know if you've heard it, but my current, absolute, top-fat favorite song is 'Master of Puppets'," he said as he waved the record around.

He put the record in the turntable and turned it up full blast. He didn't care if it woke up his neighbors. The song started and Eddie shredded his air electric guitar to it, the fork stuck in his mouth. He made me laugh and poured out so many endorphins in me through this banal event. His head bobbed up and down in time. So I did the same to him and rocked along to the music. I think I had also found my new favorite song. Not because I liked the song so much but because I would probably remember this situation for a long time and it would always make me happy. When the song was over, which went on for eight minutes, he turned the record over and pushed the volume down a bit. He threw himself again next to me on the sofa, completely out of breath. He stretched his arm towards me and pointed to his forearm. On it was a tattoo of a puppet.

"I got a 'Puppetmaster' tattoo one week after the release of the song".

I held his forearm and looked at it. I really liked the motive, I liked 'creepy' tattoos. Unfortunately, I could only talk my parents into a small tattoo since I was only 17. But only a few more weeks, then I am finally of age and can tattoo myself wherever I want.

"Why do you have so many tattoos? Do your parents allow you to do that?" I asked him while still holding his arm in my hand.

"I told you earlier that I live here with my uncle," he said and his face darkened.

"Besides, I'm already nineteen and I can decide about myself" he said and put on his smile again while he took the plates away.

"So you've already been held back twice? "I asked, astonished.

"Yeah, ugh. That's.. Watch out. Most teachers don't like me and..." he started stammering around again.

"I can help you if you want, then we can graduate together next year. Provided you accept my help." I smiled at him from the sofa. Just as he had watched me cooking earlier.

I had put him out of his excuses and now he didn't know what to say. He leaned over the counter, clasped his hands together and thought.

"But I don't want to study all summer. Agreed?"

"Agreed!" I said and offered him my hand, which he then clasped. I think this comes in handy for him to get away from here. He was like me, a misunderstood soul who wanted nothing more than to be free. Away from the walls of humanity and life. I was of the opinion that we would make a great team.

"Do you want to see my other records?" he asked in a low voice while he fished one last noodle out of the pot and shoved it into his mouth.

"Sure, but only if we listen to some more".

Eddie smiled and sprinted off as well. I followed behind him into his room. It was small and pretty cluttered and well a lot of trash was lying around. His walls were covered with posters of different bands and his guitar was hanging on the mirror. In a back corner there were two more. He rummaged a box out from under his table and showed me a few of his collected works. He also put a few on right away, because he couldn't wait to show me his music. I swung myself onto his bed and leaned back. Meanwhile he was still leaning against his desk and focused on me.

"I thought you played the guitar. Had noticed your Plek around your neck" I told him and pointed with my foot to the guitar.

"Yeah, my friends and I actually started a band and we rehearse every Tuesday in Gareth's garage. We call ourselves Corroded Coffin. He plays the drums, the other two the electric guitar and I sing" he said confidently at first and then became a bit embarrassed again when he said that he sings. He curled his hair around his finger.

"Mhm, maybe I can be at your rehearsal?" I asked and leaned forward to support myself on my knees.

"Yes, if you like, tomorrow!" he said happily and scurried next to me on the bed after he had turned over the record.

I lay down and played my drum sticks in the air to the drum solo in the song. Eddie lay down next to me and propped himself up with one elbow. His eyes were completely on me. Then, when I also shifted my gaze to him and smiled because I felt invigorated and refreshed, they sparkled open and a wide grin settled on his shapely lips. At first I focused completely on him but when I saw the clock on his nightstand, I panicked a bit. It was already eleven and I wanted to be home shortly before ten. If I come home I'll be grounded, definitely, and I can't go to band practice tomorrow. I jumped up and ran up and down the room.

"Shit, shit, shit! What do I do now?"

"What is it?" he asked, a little lost.

"I said I'd be home by 10. It's eleven. ELEVEN!" I said and pointed to the clock in panic.

"It sounds like your parents are not very relaxed" he teased me.

"You have no idea. I have to go, I'll see you at school tomorrow!" I told him, grabbing my backpack and jetting off.

While I was still getting into my car, he was standing in the doorway waving at me. It took me 15 minutes to get home. When I walked in the door, my parents were already standing in the hallway.

"You said by 10!"

" I'm sorry, we were cooking and I forgot the time".

She was about to say something and raised her finger. But I interrupted her.

"I know, I’m grounded for two days because I broke the rules again. I'm going in my room" and went upstairs.

I threw the backpack on the chair at my desk. Then I got ready and threw myself into bed.

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