Stranger Things - Imagines (Book 2)

Eddie Munson x Reader - Belong Together

A/N - This chapter was inspired by the song Belong Together by Mark Ambor. This one is set a few years after the end of the show. It's pretty short and nothing really happens, but I hope you all enjoy it.

Eddie was pretty sure that he'd never felt heat like he was feeling today. Hell, it was like each summer was getting just a touch hotter, and right now, situated under your car, tuning the engine after he'd heard the rattling you'd neglected to mention until he'd heard it for himself, he was sweating more than he knew he was capable of. 

"Baby?" you called out, capturing his attention in an instant. "I got lunch ready," you pressed on, padding down the steps from the trailer and grinning down at him when he came rolling out from under the car on his creeper, coated in grease. Hell, Eddie had never understood what you found so attractive about him being coated in dirt, but he swore you were never as sweet with him as you were when he'd been working and hadn't had a chance to shower yet. 

"Well, aren't you an absolute angel?" he hummed, sitting himself up with a groan and avoiding your outstretched hands as he pushed up to his feet. "Don't want to get that pretty dress of yours all messy," he explained softly, chuckling when your brow furrowed. 

"It'll wash," you corrected softly, catching his hand before he could withdraw it again. "Besides, I think you're more than deserving of a 'thank you' for being out here in this heat all morning fixing my car for me, so what's a little mess?"

He snorted softly, finally caving and leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. "You know you don't need to be thanking me, Sweetheart," he hummed against your lips, pulling back just enough to smile down at you. "But lunch does sound awful good right now," he pressed, letting you lead him into the house. 

"It's nothing special-"

"Baby, if you made it, I bet it's gonna be one of the best meals I've ever had," Eddie interrupted, fully releasing you as he approached the sink, scrubbing his hands clean whilst you took the plates to the table. "You're too good to me, you know that?" he hummed, turning to watch you from a distance, a soft smile painting his lips when you glanced back at him. 

"I'm only ever as good as you deserve," you responded, abandoning the food to wrap yourself around him, your chin resting on his chest as you smiled adoringly up at him. "If you weren't such an incredible boyfriend, I probably wouldn't want to be as nice," you added, chuckling at the red tint growing in his cheeks. Even after all this time, he found listening to your compliments difficult. It's not that he didn't believe that you loved him, hell, there was never any chance of his doubting that. But part of him found being so vulnerable, so known by you, hard. He'd never felt as understood by anyone as he did with you. So, your compliments hit harder. He felt them deeper. And they always brought that blush out in the apples of his cheeks. 

"Angel," he murmured, letting his hand lift to brush over your jaw, shifting until his palm was cupping your cheek. "My beautiful angel," he repeated softly, hardly a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the lightbulbs. "How'd I get so lucky, huh?"

You chuckled softly, leaning into his touch. "Destiny," you told him, watching as he shook his head slightly. "What? You think it was a coincidence that you were in the same bar as me the first night we met? That you were sitting in the perfect seat to see that guy getting too handsy with me? It was destiny, baby, plain and simple."

"It was sheer luck," he corrected, collecting your disagreement on his tongue as he leaned down to kiss you. "And I'm the luckiest man alive."

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