abi-endings

[abi-endings]

Stranger Things dividers

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[abi-endings]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary You're having trouble sleeping and pot seems like the only solution. Good thing your dealer, Eddie Munson, knows of another method that he's willing to to teach you. You get more than you bargained for when he tells you what he gets off to every night - you. [8.8k]

warnings 18+ only smut, fem!reader, eddie teaches you how to masturbate, p in v sex, light praise kink, mutual pining/lusting, lots of kissing, dirty talk, weed ment, aftercare, they are not so secretly infatuated with one another, eddie is a soft dork but also dirty <3 r implied as dressing very femininely

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie kneels outside his trailer. 

You stop at the lip of the grass and wonder what he's doing. His back is to you, covered by a band shirt familiar even from this angle and riddled with rips and moth holes. You're about to call out to him when he speaks. 

"You're hot, huh, sweetheart?" Softer than you've ever heard him. "Why don't you go inside? Escape the heat, yeah?"

You approach slowly, footfall smothered by the lush green underfoot. He's scratching behind the ears of a tabby cat. 

"It's so hot out! The sun's gonna cook you," he says, whisper-shouting.

Like the tabby can understand what he's saying it stands, stretches tall and then slinks off into the trailer. "Good girl," Eddie says, standing up. 

"Are you collecting strays?" you ask lightly. 

He turns to you, surprised but not scared. "Don't worry, you're still my favourite." 

Good girl. His words ring loud between both ears. "I'm not a stray." 

"Uh-huh. What's my shy girl want today?" You spin on your heel and Eddie starts laughing. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Come on, you'll like what I have!" 

"You know I can't talk to you when you get like this," you tell him, pouting from over your shoulder. 

He pushes a mess of black curls behind his ear and beckons you forward. "Come on," he says, sing-song. "Let daddy set you up."

"Jesus Christ," you mutter, following Eddie into his house unhappily. 

You hate when he gets in this mood, not because he's ever really made you uncomfortable, but because you like to be teased, and he knows it. Or he likes watching you squirm. Either way, it's dangerous territory. 

"How much did you want?" he asks. 

The cool inside of his trailer is a blessing. You hold your naked arms away from your skin and try to take a deep breath of cool air. "I have thirty dollars. So… however much that is." 

"Babe, what the fuck do you want so much for?" he asks, glancing over his shoulder at you incredulously. 

You follow him into his room. "Do you not have it?" you ask, tracing posters you've seen upwards of ten times by now. Eddie's a good dealer – reliable, sweet, and prone to freebies without any pervy requests in place. 

He once swapped you an eighth for a cheap charm bracelet. He wears it now, the silver delicate and entirely too sweet for his metalhead appearance. It looks good on him, anyhow. 

He pulls open the usual lunchbox you hadn't noticed sitting on one of his amps and pulls out more pot than you've ever seen at one time. "Don't I?" 

"Woah."

"Uh-huh. Ern't she preddy?" he asks in a drawing southern accent. 

You hold out your hands and he lets you take it. When you open the zip lock bag, the smell isn't awful. The buds are thick with green fuzz, and your eyes water. 

You pass it back to him. "How much can I have for thirty?" 

"For you? Half." 

"Don't do that, Eddie. Gimme what you'd give anyone else." 

"But you're not anyone else, babe. You're my favourite customer." 

"I'm gonna put you out of business," you say, lightly chiding. "Can I sit down?" 

He hums and nods and you sit cross legged at the top of his bed. His bed sheets are pushed away and the space is cold. His pillow under your hand is colder. 

Eddie doesn't bother weighing it. You roll your eyes at him but also feel amazingly happy, because it's a lot of pot for not a lot of money, because his favouritism speaks for what you hope might be a small crush. Still, when he passes you the new bag you feel guilty. 

"Eddie, I can't take that. I know that's more than thirty." 

His eyebrows jump. "I don't care. What's the point in doing this if I can't give pretty girls a little something extra?" 

"I don't know. To make money?" 

He holds out the bag. You don't take it. "Fine," he says, sighing.

"Thank you." You watch him fish three or four bigger buds out of the bag. He presents you with a much more reasonable amount, his hands stained with the smell. "Thank you," you say again.

"Yeah. Wanna stay and watch a movie?" 

You've known Eddie since middle school. Classmates, not really friends, not not friends, though ever since you've started buying a small kinship has blossomed between you. 

"What movie?" 

"Whatever you want." 

You nibble the inside of your lip. "You'll roll up for me?" 

"Sure will." 

So you end up on Eddie's couch with the tabby cat that isn't his purring heavily on your lap as he rolls a couple of joints for you. You won't smoke anything until tonight so Eddie drops them into your newly acquired ziplock bag with papers and the leftover bud. 

He sniffs. "So, you're not sleeping?" he asks knowingly, straightening out with a groan and disappearing out of view into the kitchenette. You're a total overthinker. Pot helps you calm down.

"I'm sleeping." 

"After toking up." 

"There's…" You scratch the vibrating cat behind its ears, frowning to yourself. "Worse things to do." 

"Better ones, though. Hey, do you want a drink?" 

You say no and he brings you a glass of water anyways. His hands smell strongly of hand soap and faintly of weed as he passes it to you. You take it carefully, wary of disturbing your cuddle partner. 

"Like what?" you ask.

"Cranking one out, for starters." 

You wince, afraid to bring the lip of the glass to your mouth in case you choke on it. "Anything else?"

"Running?" Eddie suggests, sitting with you but leaving a more than comfortable gap between your legs.

"Not my thing," you murmur. 

It's weird, but anything above murmuring feels like shouting in the calm of his home. The movie plays on the TV and the cat purs, Eddie spreads his legs out and slouches into the cushions, his face surrounded by dark hair. He smiles at you like he always does, amicable if slightly flirty. 

"Maybe pot is your only option," he says mournfully. He pulls a lock of hair in front of his face and his eyebrows pinch together. "Make sure you brush your teeth after though. Or you'll get bad teeth."

"Bad teeth?" 

"Smoking ruins your pearls." 

You put down your glass of water and weave your fingers into the cat's rough fur. Eddie is really nice. Really really nice. And he probably likes you, so… what's the worst that could happen, by asking? 

I'm only asking, you decide. 

"Eddie," you say softly, disrupting a big tobacco rant that he'd started. "What- when you say cranking one out, that's-" 

"You know." He holds his hand above his crotch and squeezes the air. You feel a terrible heat start to collect in your abdomen. "Five to one? Uh- Nulling the void?" He grasps for words at your lost expression. "Making soup?" 

His voice goes high. You think he's as embarrassed as you are, and you're not gonna ask again. You giggle. "Oh, right." 

He drops his hand heavy against the seat of his pants and leans back. "Crank one out and sleep like a log." 

"That works for you?" you ask tentatively. 

"Every night." 

You sink down into the couch and hide your face in cat fur. Eddie starts asking about how your job is, a genuine, earnest interest that further cements your next decision. You clear your throat. 

"Eddie, can I ask you something?" He grins and waves his hand. "When you," you wince, "'make soup', do you just- how do you…" You slink down so far you're almost falling off of the couch. "How do you make yourself-" You gesture to your pelvis and then screw your hand into a fist, self-conscious.

He blinks. "Finish?" 

You look at the chain around his neck rather than his face. "Yeah." 

"Are you asking me because you want to know how I do it, or because you don't know how to do it to yourself?" 

You rub your cheek with your shoulder. "The second option." 

"Shit," he mutters. 

"Sorry, you don't have to- I just thought-" 

Eddie sits up. He looks more serious than he had before but not any less patient, elbows braced on his knees and head propped up in his hand. He parts his fingers over his lips. 

"You don't know how?" he asks. 

"I must've missed that lesson in sex ed," you try to joke. It comes out awkward. Eddie laughs anyways, a huff of breath. 

"Lucky you, I've sat through sex ed three times." He grins brilliantly, but his joking tone softens when he sees your hesitant expression. "If you wanna know, I'm happy to tell you." 

"Are you sure?"

"We're friends, right? What are friends for?" You don't miss the sarcastic twist to his words or his ironic smile. 

Friends like you and Eddie likely aren't meant to be giving one another lessons on masturbation. But really, he's the only person you know who you could ask and wouldn't feel totally looked down on. Eddie's nice to his core, but better – he doesn't judge. 

You struggle to know what to ask. 

The cat chooses this moment to wake and jump off of you, strutting out of the trailer's open door and back into the sunlight without so much as a grateful look back. 

And now you're alone with him. 

"How's your anatomy?" he asks. You shake your head slowly. "You know, grade wise? Are we passing? B? B-? C?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about, Munson." 

"Do you know what's what?" he asks concisely.

You sit up and press your knees together, suddenly very aware of your 'anatomy'. "I think so." 

He purses his lips for a few seconds before shrugging. "Alright. We can work with that." Eddie pushes his cheek into the couch and looks at your face unflinching as he says, "You know what your clit is?" 

You cringe. Full body. 

Eddie shrugs. "What? That's what it's called. You don't have to be embarrassed about it." 

"I know what it is." 

"And you can't make yourself-" 

"No." 

He doesn't miss your frustration. "Hey, hey, it's fine. Some people think that it's, like, a magic on-button, but it's not. There's a whole process." 

"How do you know?" you ask genuinely. 

His answering smile is wolfish. "I'm in a band, babe. Fucking a guitarist is like, a bucket list thing or some shit. Girls will tell you exactly what they want if you're willing to listen." 

Something about his knowing look has your heart skipping a beat. Maybe two. He pushes his hand across the couch and you're not sure if it's on purpose or accident, only that he's leaning in, a small smile on his face. 

"And I'm a damn good listener." 

You meet his eyes and know what he's offering. He waits, ring heavy fingers splayed wide in the space between you. It's the sight of them – thick, long and adorned in string-wrought calluses – that tips you over the edge. 

He's already pulling back with a reassuring smile on his face, lips parted to likely say something too nice when you interrupt him. 

"Will you teach me?" you ask quietly. 

A split-second of surprise is quickly overtaken by enthusiasm. "You're not high, are you?" 

"No." 

He gets up to close the door and starts for his room. You linger on the couch uselessly and he doubles back, hand on the wall. "Are you coming?" 

The noise from the TV fades as you walk down the hall and into his room. Your socked foot nudges into a tower of books close to the door and you reach out to steady them. Eddie pulls the sheets back into place and flicks on the lamp. He pauses by the stereo before turning that on, too. 

A song you don't recognise starts to play. Eddie climbs up onto his bed and stands there for a second, suddenly very tall. "You wanna take off your jacket?"

"It's a cardigan." You peel the thin white cotton off of your shoulders and shift from foot to foot, unsure of yourself. 

Eddie settles on his knees, pulls off his rings. "It's pretty. Come here," he says, holding out his arms. 

You slide onto the bed cautiously, naked calves rubbing against the sheets. You feel as though every sense has been dialled to eleven; you're thinking about every brush of fabric, every small sound that they make. 

Eddie takes one of your hands and you sit with one leg crossed and the other hanging off the edge of the bed, surprised at his soft touch. He soothes your hand and brings it to his lap, eyes on your now-bared shoulders. 

"You dress real pretty." He says it with his usual dramatics, though there's enough sincerity there to make you smile. 

You look down at your delicate clothes thoughtfully. "You think so?" 

"Mh-hm. It suits you," he says as he drums his thumbs against the back of your hand. 

He pushes one palm up the length of your arm and pulls it towards him at the same time. You've never been touched like this before and you want it bad, shuffling towards him with a shameful speed. He takes it in stride, hand bumping up the hill of your shoulder. His index finger slides under the skinny strap of your top and tugs at it playfully. 

"You look sweet. Really sweet," he says, his voice more hushed than before. His eyes drop to your thighs. "You'll have to take those off, though."

"My shirt too?" you ask weakly, eyebrows pinched up at the starts. 

"Not if you don't want to." You hesitate. He takes your thigh into a big hand and gives you a small shake. "It's okay. Take your time. Or, if you changed your mind, that's totally cool." 

"No, I haven't," you deny, voice trembling with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. You kick your legs out in front of you one at a time and ease your shorts over the slopes of your thighs and calves, pushing them off of his bed with your feet. 

“If you change your mind at any point-“

“I’ll tell you,” you say, nodding as you pull your knees together. 

Eddie manoeuvres so he’s close, twisted toward you with his hand braced by your thigh. The cold metal of the charm bracelet you'd swapped him bites into your skin. If you leaned back and he leaned forward, he could kiss you. You think maybe he has the same idea as his eyes dart to your lips. 

They linger. 

He blinks and it’s gone. 

“I’m gonna rub your leg,” he says quietly, “and when I get to the inside, I’m gonna touch you. Okay?”

As he says it, his hand moves onto your thigh. Down to your knee.

Slowly, so slowly, back up. His fingers caress the inside of your thigh. He pauses. 

“‘Kay,” you whisper. 

His fingers flex over your flesh as he draws in. Then, like a shock, his fingertips press to your underwear. 

“I’m not surprised,” he says steadily, fingers brushing over your cunt, ghosting but never truly touching where you want him to. 

“By what?” 

“That you wear such cute panties.” He strokes the hem with the tip of his finger and you hold your breath as he slides it under the elastic, running the fabric over his digit gently. “S’exactly the kind of thing I pictured you wearing.”

“You’ve pictured them?” 

He looks up from his teasing and your panties snap into place. You gasp on instinct and his eyes narrow, his lashes kissing in the corners. “Does that bother you?” he murmurs. 

You shake your head. His lips quirk up, a smugness that makes your heart race ever faster. 

"Do you do anything like this with yourself?" he asks. 

"I'm never this nice." 

"That's a crime," he says, and he laughs loud, momentarily shattering the distilled atmosphere that had settled over you both. "Thighs like these and you don't touch them?"

"Is that what you do?" you ask, insecure.

"No, but it's different. I don't need to get warmed up like you do." 

"Warmed up?" you whisper. Having to ask these questions feels so embarrassing. 

Eddie being so soft about it makes it easier. "Relaxed," he whispers in turn, laughing towards the end.

His thumb rubs the elastic of your underwear and drifts slowly inward until he's pushing over your folds. You gasp and it's slightly startled, sounding too close to panic for Eddie, who's hand flinches away. 

"Didn't like that?" he asks. 

You rush, "It's okay. Surprised." 

One big hand holds your thigh, the other strokes your cunt. He's a little firmer now, pushing the breadth of his thumb over your panties until he touches something very sensitive. "Here?" He pushes up a little higher and your breath catches. He makes an almost inaudible cooing sound and flattens his hand, rubbing the length of your cunt without finesse. It feels good anyway. It surprises you how much you like it. 

He pinches your panties.

"Ready to take them off?" he asks. 

"Yeah." 

You lift your hips and peel your underwear down, folding your legs to pull them off of your ankles. You clutch them in your hand, unsure. 

Eddie sits back and pulls you towards him. You let him manhandle you with a small gasp, his hands pressing into the soft of your tummy. You can't see his face anymore. 

"Alright," he murmurs, pulling your thigh over his lap and spreading you wide. His voice is loud in your ear because of his proximity, and you resist the temptation to turn your face to his.

"Let's just-" he works your underwear out of your hand and tosses them aside. 

His hand lands on your knee and moves down fast. 

You lean back heavily into his chest with your hands pulled to your sternum. 

"Eddie," you say, "what do I do?" 

He hums. "Touch yourself." 

You seize up and he's quick to soothe, fingers closing around the crook of your elbow.

"Hey, I'm gonna show you. I'm gonna show you," he repeats. He pulls at the lip of your cunt and spreads you open, groaning softly. You wouldn't hear it if his lips weren't so close to your face. "How'd you have a cunt this sweet and never touch it? I mean, fuck." 

His fingertips whisper past your pubic hair like he's going to say something more, but he only asks, "Hand?" 

You put your hand into his, the back to his palm. 

He sets it to your thigh. "Do what I did before, okay? Slowly…" He drags your hand up and down the length of your thigh. 

Your heart is racing. Every time you crawl close to your cunt the burning longing to be touched, to touch yourself, and to have him touch you intensifies. 

Eventually he pulls your hand to your clit. "You're so sensitive. Is it always this bad?" he asks sympathetically when you jump, tickled at the feelin. 

"I haven't tried in a while." 

"Oh, I see." Eddie encourages you to push your fingertip into the squishy bead, drawing slow circles. "Poor baby. Just desperate to have someone take care of you." His voice is so low, so ridiculously soft, you find yourself sinking into his hold. He squeezes the crook of your elbow with one hand, the other still guiding your ministrations. You bite your lip at the sensation that's begun, the tiny spark of pleasure.

"Here, let me-" He lifts your hand away from your clit and you whine involuntarily. "Shh, sweetheart, I'm only gonna give you something to work with." 

You turn your head to him and watch as his mouth opens. He sucks the very tip of your finger between his lips, the heat of his tongue a momentary flash. When he pulls it back, your finger shines with his spit. 

Your eyes are half-lidded, watching through the crush of your lashes as he presses it back to your clit. "How's that? S'that better?" he asks, crooning. His tone sports an underlying mockery, a light-hearted teasing that's slowly turning intense. 

It is better. It's different. Your fingertip searches for purchase against the slick skin and struggles to find it, the wetness allowing for freer, faster movement. 

You push a second finger against the first. 

Eddie stops helping. You pause, confused. 

"No, you got it, sweetheart. You keep going," he reassures, grabbing a hold of your thigh again. He teases the dough there, never cruel but maybe close, fat moulding under his fingers as he squeezes. 

Your breathing builds with pleasure. Still, it's hot enough; there's no sign of an oncoming climax, no tightening coil in your tummy. You huff with exertion and frustration. "Eddie, it's not working." 

"I'm not done." He sounds almost stern. Your stomach flips. "You have to think about what you want." 

"What I want?" 

"What turns you on." 

You think of his hands and their rings. His happy trail. 

His voice. Good girl. 

You slam your eyes shut.

Eddie gives you another mean squeeze. "What do you think about, when you-" 

You don't let him finish. "What do you think about?" you ask, too loud. 

He stills. His nose pushes into your shoulder, his hair tickling your skin as he asks, "Are you sure you wanna know?"

Your breath catches. Your fingers stutter where they work into your clit and Eddie starts you right back up again. His lips brush your shoulder. 

"Yes," you say, gasping as pleasure like little shocks of heat shoot to your core. 

The hand at your elbow starts to rove, tickling your arm as he strokes downwards. "You first," he murmurs, teasing your wrist. You swear you can feel his smile against your shoulder. 

You breathe in through your nose. "Uh, I think of- of somebody…" You try, but you just can't say it. 

Eddie's fingers push down your crease. Stop right before your entrance. "Is this okay?" 

"Yeah." 

"Mmm…" He circles your entrance. "Now what does a pretty girl like you think of when she's touching herself?" You don't think he wants an answer. His middle finger brushes across the slick well and pushes in. You squirm and he holds you in place. 

There's something very hard digging into your spine. 

"Something sweet as you… Let me guess. Boy next door comes around to mow the lawn, you invite him in for a drink, one thing comes to another-" He pushes his finger in deeper. "And he's fucking you.

"That sound about right?" 

You shake your head. His own perks up where it rests on your shoulder. "No? Huh." 

Your circles have grown slow and staggered, distracted by his touch as he eases his ring finger in beside his middle. "Something more romantic? Wedding night, love of your life. Guy that's gonna treat you like a diamond. Way a girl like you deserves." He pushes in, stretches them out. You moan as he curls them, as his arm works back and forth. "Gives it to you gentle." His movements slow to match.

And sure, that sounds nice. But it's not what you think about. 

"No," you manage to get out through shallow breaths. 

"No? You don't want it gentle?" 

"Not- not all the time." 

"How about right now?"

"Please." 

Slowly, slowly, the shape of Eddie's hard cock against your back starts to move in time with the thrusts of his hand. He pushes in deep, fingers searching emphatically for the sweet spot, the thing that's gonna make you- 

"Fuck," you whimper. 

His cock jumps. You feel it. 

"You keep rubbing that pretty little clit of yours, sweetheart." 

You do as he asks. You're desperate enough now that you imagine you'd do most anything he says, your climax a tangible, physical possibility. Your tummy feels heavy and aching with want, worse when he probes deeply and marks your sweet spot again. His lips press to your shoulder, soft enough that you worry you're imagining it. 

"You see what I'm doing here? See what fingers I'm using?" he asks. You open your eyes reluctantly. His wrist turns. You watch his fingers sink into the gummy heat of your cunt. "Tight little hole's just pulling me in, fucking clinging to me, baby, she's greedy." 

You gasp, a hiccup of scandalised sound. 

"Want you to try, okay? You gonna do that for me?" 

"Yeah, Eddie." 

"Good girl." You moan, you don't mean to, but he's fucking into your quick and your finger pushes into your clit roughly. Eddie revels in it. "You like that? You like being called a good girl? I fucking knew it." 

You frown and start to turn to him. He presses his cheek to your head so you can't, stuck looking down the length of the bed at your trembling legs. 

"You looked so flustered, standing all sweet and quiet by the van out front with your thighs squeezed together. You think I didn't see that shit?" 

You're limp against him, thighs spread wide as you work into your clit, chasing this new feeling. You can hardly breathe, every exhale a keening moan that has you shame-faced and weepy. You roll your hips to meet his fingers, his hand slapping against your cunt with a slick slap. 

"You looked so sweet. Y'always do." He turns his lips to your ear and curls into you until your squealing. "Guess looks can be deceiving." 

You're so close, so close. Tendrils of heat curl heavily at your core. "Eddie, I'm- I'm-"

"You wanna cum?"

"Yes," you pant. 

He pulls his fingers from your cunt and you're so confused that you stop, your climax slipping away in seconds. 

"Sorry, but you have to do it yourself. This is all pointless if you can't get there on your own," he says. 

Your chest heaves. "That's mean. You're mean." 

"I never claimed otherwise. Here, middle and marriage, babe." He guides your hand to your entrance. You push your fingers inside, your tongue between your lips in concentration. Your fingers aren't as thick as his, they don't feel quite the same, but Eddie pushes your thumb into your clit. "Move your wrist. Feel that? Feel how soft you are? How fucking warm you are?" 

You're not nearly as good as he was but every clumsy touch feels electric. You push your thumb into sweeping circles and pant your frustration aloud, feeling close to tears. 

"You wanna know what I think about, when I jerk off?" he asks unexpectedly.

You nod, your head moving back into his collar. He rubs the lengths of your arms leisurely, his lazy demeanour in total juxtaposition to your desperation.

"There's this girl that comes to see me," he starts, coloured by a smug amusement. "Sweet thing, soft-spoken, always wearing these pretty clothes looking like something straight out of the movies.

"I think about a lot of things. Her thighs-" One of his hands falls to your thigh in time, massaging, "fuck, just wanna bury my face in them and never come out. Pull down those cotton shorts she's so partial to with the dainty stitching and-" He laughs and his lips part over your shoulder. His teeth scratch up, up, up. "Make her fucking cry my name. Feel those thighs tense up around me." 

You're so close your entire body shudders. You slow without meaning to, holding your breath in wait for Eddie to finish his story  

He gives you one final push. "Always wondered if she sounds as pretty as she looks when she cums." He kisses the small graze he'd given you mere seconds ago and everything is blue-white with heat. "Gonna clue me in, sweetheart? Gonna cum for me?" 

Your eyes close hard and you breathe out, an exhale ragged and weak and mewling. You don't moan so much as sob without tears, tensing up in Eddie's arms as bliss blooms. You pull your hand from your sopping cunt and feel your walls contract around nothing as you cum.

He pulls you close, throbbing cock pressing hard into your back. "Fuck," he hisses, hands placating where they lay. 

You go lax, head tipping back as you suck in air that had felt elusive moments ago. 

Eddie rubs your arms without saying anything. You cover his hands and try to summon up words. 

"Just as pretty as you look," he murmurs. 

He's so fuckng nice. So fucking nice, and what? He thinks about you when he jacks off? Since when? 

You sit up and drop your chin to your chest, panting still. 

"You okay?"

After a few seconds you smile and turn to him, intent on saying, Yes, thank you, and maybe something with more gratitude, something silly, just something. But you can't speak.

His face is close. 

Eddie brings a hand to the slope of your rising shoulder, follows a line to the curve of your neck. You look to his eyes and find him staring at your lips unabashedly. 

He pulls you into him. You close your eyes. 

Eddie Munson tastes like lots of things as he kisses you.

Cigarettes, unavoidable. Under that, sugar. Something sweet but heavy as bourbon vanilla. Your lips part and close in tandem with his, slow and hungry. Your heart races and your fingers are still wet as you twist in his arms and take his face into your hands. 

You climb up onto your knees and Eddie doesn't know what to do with you. 

He smiles so hard he has to pull away. Not smirking, smiling, a cheek-aching, too-happy smile that softens everything in your chest. 

You rub a shaking thumb over his cheek. You don't know if it's because of the post-orgasm rush of hormones or because he just kissed you and now he's smiling like he might do it again. 

He does. He kisses you and grabs your waist. His fingers mess with the hem of your shirt and he breaks the kiss short to say, "Take it off?" 

You sit back on your knees, feel the mess of wet between your legs spread as you grab at the edge of your shirt and pull it up. Eddie helps though he doesn't need to, and just like that you're shirtless. 

"Oh my god, I can't believe this is happening," he says, voice weak in what you suspect is one of his dramatics. 

He slides his hands up your sides and stops just below your breasts. His thumbs grace the undersides and his brow puckers. "Fuck," he mouths appreciatively. 

You flush head to toe. "Yours, too?" you ask gently. 

Eddie reaches back to pull off his shirt. His hair's in total disarray and he runs his hands through it, biceps flexing with the movement, torso taut. The black ink of his tattoos move with him and your eyes eat up every single one. 

He catches your eyes where they linger on the volley of bats. "You like that one?" 

"I've always liked that one." 

He grins and it's honey thick, hands at the small of your back and tugging. You spread your knees wide on impulse and find yourself flush to his chest, his arms locking you into place as he dives in for another kiss. Again you're surprised at how deeply he kisses you, how it ebbs and flows from slow to fast like he's both savouring and gorging himself on your closeness. 

You've never been kissed like this. You're weightless. You feel every contiguity between you, the hot and wet of his mouth, the crook of his elbow against the nape of your neck, your nipples peaked against his chest and the length of his dick pushing up into your aching cunt. 

"Fucking pretty," he says, pulling back just enough to kiss the corner of your mouth, your chin. He kisses your jaw over and over and over, lips pulling into crescents and then the same word. Pretty. 

His mouth opens wide at your throat, teeth scratching lightly as it closes. He sucks your skin between his lips and rolls it, hand spreading wide and palm flat at your shoulder blade. Steadying. . 

"That's cute," he says when he pulls away, lips shining. 

"What?" you ask, hand drifting up. You poke at the quick-forming contusion.

He nudges it aside with his face as he moves in to further mark up your neck. "You're so fucking pretty," he says, each word separated by a nipping kiss. 

His hands are everywhere.

Everything is warm and you can't breathe. You plant your hands at his shoulders and push away from him, and he stops you from falling flat on your back, levelling you with a worried glance. 

"Is it too much?" he asks. 

"No, I'm just hot. Really hot." You take a big breath and wipe your face with the back of both hands. 

"That's true," he says, leaning back against the wall. His hands fall to your thighs. "Are you okay?" 

You drop your hands abruptly and can't believe the fondness you're feeling. "You're pretty, too," you tell him. Honest if very shy; meek, entirely sincere. "I'm okay. I want…" 

"You want?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"I have this fantasy," you begin. 

Eddie widens your legs to move from under them. It doesn't surprise you when he comes to lie on your chest, holding his weight off of you with an arm at the side of your ribs. His hair falls and hides the room from view. All you can see is his face, and it's beautiful. 

"Tell me about it." 

"It's- okay. It's…" You drift off as he dips down to kiss your collar, only chaste pecks but enough to distract you. "It's kind of like this." 

"Yeah?" His breath warms your chest. More ditzy kisses.

"I get here and you're coming out of the shower-" 

"Tasteful." 

"With a towel low on your hips," you add pointedly. It's useless, his sarcasm has pinned you spot on. "And you- you touch me." 

Eddie kitten licks the skin he's just nibbled and looks up. "Like this?" 

"Like this." 

"And after that," his hand moves between you to the zipper of his jeans, the sound of metal clicking metal ringing through the room, "what do I do?" 

"You push me down into the bed, and-" You feel the fabric of his jeans rub your thighs as he pulls them down. "You…" 

"What do I do, sweetheart?" 

"You push my legs up and you fuck me," you confess.

He scrambles back towards his nightstand, a hand on your ankle that says, I'm not going far. "How do I fuck you? Am I rough?" 

"Not at first." 

There, in his hands, the red plastic of a condom wrapper, bright as a maraschino cherry. He holds it up and you nod. 

"Not at first," he murmurs, ripping open the condom, hissing as he pulls it over his weeping cock. It's big – not too thick, but big, surrounded by a thatch of dark curls trimmed neat. "But eventually?" 

He rolls it on tight and then there's nothing but this admission of your guiltiest fantasy. You spread your legs without thinking and he pulls you towards him, thumb collecting slick where it's pooled and pushing it up towards your entrance. What's left on his fingers he smears over the length of his shaft. You watch him rub at the head and sigh. 

"Eventually," you agree. 

His cock rubs up against you as he leans down and pinches your chin between his fingers, lips parted from a sharp gasp and opening further. "Can I fuck you? Is that what you want?" 

You nod voraciously. 

He gives you a very firm kiss at the highest point of your cheek. "In words." 

"Yes, you can fuck me. That's what I want," you say without hesitation. 

"You tell me if I do something you don't like," he says, lining up. 

"I will," you say earnestly. 

Eddie pushes your leg up towards your tummy and holds it there. "Good girl," he praises, and pushes in.

You're already worked open by his hand, your own hand and your climax, and still it's a snug fit. You cross your arm over your chest with your lips bitten hard to stop from making what you anticipate to be a very great and mortifying sound. He takes it slow, real slow, towering over you with his brows furrowed just slightly and his back arching. Every move he makes is accompanied by a careful thrust of his hips. He's rhythm in motion. 

"Fuck," he mutters, more than once. He's halfway when you feel that stretch, your pulpy walls accommodating him with little complaint and a lot of pleasure. 

You drop your head back against the bed sheets and hug yourself. 

Eddie reaches for your hand where its cracking your breast absentmindedly and squeezes your fingers. "How's that?" he asks. "How's that feel?" 

You close your eyes. "S'good, Eddie." You lay out your own roll of expletives as he pushes in ever deeper. "You're really- oh," you gasp, "really deep." 

"You should see it, babe, pretty pussy gripping my every fucking inch." He leans down and his cock fills another inch of you. Your fingers ache with how hard he's squeezing them, and you look up to find his eyes on yours. "I'm gonna fill you up, okay? You gonna be a good girl for me and take it?" 

You blink and your lashes feel heavy with tears. "Yeah. I can take it. I can take it." 

"I know," he says, hovering over you, close enough to hug if you wanted to. 

He grabs your side and his thumb pushes into the soft swell of your breast, his grip tightening as he fits those last inches of his cock inside you. You rub your cheek against his bedsheets, your head fuzzy from being so full. He takes your bared neck as an opportunity and ducks into the juncture of it and his face fits there like it was made to, his nose bobbing against the column of your throat as he starts to fuck into you. His hips roll, a mess of his sticky pubes kissing your clit. 

This close you can smell him, the heavy scents of pot and smoke, the sweet nutty smell of oil clinging to his hair. Sweat, as you imagine you smell of too, and sex. The room is filled with it, the smells and the sounds of his thighs thudding into yours. 

"Eddie- Eddie," you whimper, muffled by the sheets beneath you. 

He pushes in deep and rubs his nose into your skin emphatically. "What's wrong, hm? What's got you all wound up?" 

You wrap your arms around his back. You're not sure if you're allowed to but you're hardly thinking ahead – you can't. Every thrust, every movement he makes is at the forefront of your mind, commanding all of your attention. The tickling of his hair against the side of your face. The skipping of the chains of his necklace where it teases your neck. 

"Babe?" he asks, pulling back to turn your head. He stills inside you. 

You protest, loud and completely unlike yourself. "Eddie, don't stop. Please don't." Your hands push into his shoulder blades. He ruts in at your request, thumb rubbing your cheek. "Feels so good," you say. You trip over your praise, voice breaking. 

He starts up again, whispering, "Do you want me to hold your leg up, pretty girl?" and, "Taking me so well- taking it so fucking well," and, worse, "Fuck, sweetheart, just like that," when you tigthen around him. 

You weave your fingers into the messy crush of black curls surrounding his face, careful not to tug as you covet the back of his head and nape of his neck, scratching his scalp lightly with one hand as the other strokes his side. 

Your moans become a half-sobbing sort of mess, quiet and desperate, drawn out of you with every tap of his cock into your soft spot. When he finds it he can't not search for it, rutting into it over and over until you can't produce anything but an unintelligible stream of babble and happy sighs. 

He laps lazily at your neck, the stretch of skin dampened and stinging from love bites. He thrusts in hard and hits something sweet that has you clinging to him. 

"You smell good," he says into your skin.

Your hips ache with pleasure. "I must taste pretty good," you say. What, with how he's willing to nibble on you like this. 

He squeezes your neck and narrows his eyes at you playfully. "I intend to find out." He moves down until your lips are a hair's width from touching. "Bet you taste as sweet as everything else."

You lift your chin and kiss him, dedicating your affections to his top lip. He groans into your mouth, hips moving slow and thrusts shallow when suddenly they're not. His cock drags out slowly and slams in deep, his pelvis hitting into yours. 

You keen into the kiss, gentle and at odds with his fucking. His fingers find your ear and his thumb follows down the shell until he's pinching your earlobe, a split-second touch that melts you into putty. He pulls away from the kiss and inhales loudly, his fingers under your ear and pushing your face to the side so that he can wade in from a new angle.

You curl your fingers around his wrist and let yourself be kissed and fucked and touched. Anything he wants to do, he can do. 

Eddie breaks the kiss.

"What did I taste like?" you ask breathlessly. 

He traces an invisible teardrop down your cheek with the back of his pinky finger. "Oh, sweetheart," he says quietly, lowering his lips to the shell of your ear. "That's not where I meant." 

Another hard thrust. You gasp at the dull aching spreading through your tummy and Eddie softens slightly, not so deep but just as fast, faster, his cheek to your cheek as he works you open. His rugged panting in your ear is everything you need. You force your hand between your body and Eddie's and search for the wet mess of your clit, chasing quick circles into the swollen bump. 

Eddie realises what's happening and his fucking turns desperate. "You gonna cum again? Shit- keep touching, I'll get you there, fucking promise you." He's hardly pulling out an inch before he's rutting back in, kicking up the speed until all you can feel is pleasure again. 

Eddie slows down as you cum, moaning as you tighten around him. He pushes away from you to kneel between your legs again, eyes locking onto your cunt obstinately, his panting loud as he drags his cock in and out. 

"Insane," he mumbles, hands coasting down your legs until he's grasping the fat of your thighs and pulling you back onto his cock. "You're insane." 

As if proving it, his hands rove the hills and troughs of your torso, your skin clammy underhand, his hips moving mindlessly. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand and blink back into focus. 

"Are you close?" you ask him, whispering. 

You're lucky he can hear you with the music he's playing and the sounds of your slick hole being stretched. Eddie tucks a lock of sweat-dark hair behind his ear and his eyes pause in their reverential searching to meet yours. 

He peels your hand off of your mouth and holds it. 

"Fucking teetering, babe. Been close ever since I felt you wrapped around my fingers." He pulls your hand and you take it as a cue to try and sit up. Eddie helps you into his lap, your thighs straddling his thighs, slipping down his length until you're stuffed to bursting. 

You hide your face in his shoulder and he rubs your back. "You're okay," he says sympathetically, "I got you. You just sit pretty, there's a good girl." 

You wrap your arms around his neck and try your best to bounce on his cock as he thrust up into you, a steady pace that turns sloppy. You rake your hands through his curls and kiss at the curve of his neck down to the slope of his shoulder, dizzied and cock-drunk, totally fucked out. You hum into your kisses with every prodding of his mushroom tip against your deepest spot, rambling nonsense at him in a way you hope is making a difference. 

"Fucking me so good," you mumble, equal parts tearful and euphoric, lips wet and spreading a shine like frost in the sun over his lean shoulder. "So good, Eddie. Thought about this too much." 

"Yeah?" he asks, sounding like a different person. Voice rough as hewn stone and hands bruising where they grip you, his heavy sack slapping into you with every sluggish rock of his hips. "Good as you pictured? M'I fucking you like you wanted?" 

"Better," you say sincerely. 

"Fuck, sweetheart," he says, and he's close, you know he is.

You roll your pelvis in circles and try your hardest, aflame as you plead, "Cum for me, please? Please, Eddie, wanna feel it." 

Despite your shy intonation Eddie goes rigid. He fucks in with one final thrust that sends shocks deep to your core and spreading out, cutting your happy little gasp short as he pulls your head tight to his neck. His hips twitch underneath you and he's making sounds that are going to haunt you, whiney, begging moans over your head. 

Eddie's tight hold on you slowly loosens. You're breathing fast, finally out of motion. Your thighs burn where they're spread over his lap and you squirm unintentionally. 

He pulls your neck back from his shoulder and looks over your face, concern lining the soft set of his eyes. He cups your cheek in question. 

"I'm okay," you say softly. "I'm more than okay. That was amazing." 

"It was amazing," he agrees, caught off guard.

"Yeah." 

You shift backwards and the two of you wince at the sensitivity. You ease your legs open and Eddie pulls out, pumping the sticky shaft once. His eyes flutter closed. 

You move off of his lap and turn to the side so you can stretch out your aching legs. Eddie follows suit, collapsing off of his knees and onto his back, the pillow behind him keeping him propped up. 

You watch him ease the condom off of his cock curiously, White cum has smeared and drips down the length of him, his pubes tangled by a mixture of your slick and his. 

He spots you watching and smiles. "What, sweetness? What are you thinking about?"

"I made you cum." 

His eyebrows jump but quickly smooth. "I think I went blind, for a second." 

You giggle at his hyperbole and he pulls you down against his chest, your side pressing into his navel. Your cheek to the space shy of his heart. 

His hand comes to rest on your forehead. 

"Do you really think about me?" you ask, knowing the answer. 

"Every night." 

You close your eyes and hide your smile in his skin. He chuckles and wraps you up in one arm, his hand a firm pressure as he massage the dipped plane of your back. 

Nestling your cheek into his chest, you say, "I think about it, too. All the time." 

"Uh-huh. Maybe we can make some more of those racy thoughts a reality. What was that one about me coming out of the shower?" 

You like this casual conversation and decide to try and make him laugh, stretching your words out low. "Well, you're coming out of the shower, and your towel slips open-" There, his bumping laughter at your over the top salaciousness. 

"That's awful. Most cliche, overdone, cheap porno concept ever," he chastens. 

"I never said I was creative." 

"What happens after that?" 

"The towel gets swept away by a sudden gust of wind, so I have to cover you. With my body." 

He bursts. There's no other word to describe it, his back arches with the force of his laughter and he holds his fist to his mouth, shaking and giggling like an idiot. 

"Where's the wind coming from?" he questions incredulously. 

"I don't know! The window?" 

"Oh my god," he says. He hooks his hand under your arm and pulls you up his chest, dotting a fond kiss to your forehead as you near. "And after that?" 

"Well, I told you that part." 

"Right, we hook up, but after that." 

You clench your fists, insecure. "After?" 

He brings the hand that isn't loving the length of your back to your face, stroking the skin under your chin with the backs of his index and middle finger, the flat of his fingernails sliding gently in a soothing back and forth. 

"I guess it's kind of like this," you answer eventually. 

"Does fantasy Eddie get another kiss, too? Or does he- do they stop, afterwards?" 

"It's a fantasy. The kisses never stop," you tell him. Adrenaline must linger in your veins; you can barely speak.

His expression becomes impassive, and a lull in the conversation blossoms. He searches your face for something and you don't know what, but he must find it, because he dips down and kisses you chaste on the lips. 

Your hands are back to tentative as they explore his neck. Your fingertips grace the curves of his throat and then sink behind, into the dampened mess of his hair. 

He stays chaste, dainty kisses, pulling back to dot them against your lips over and over. 

"Eddie," you say softly, "what are you doing?" 

"It feels like kissing," he says, tone a mirror of your own. 

You huff a laugh against his lips and kiss back. 

Later, after more kisses than you could ever count and an hour dozing on his chest whilst his hand rubbed circles into your tired back, you get dressed into your clothes that he likes so much and slip your goodie bag into the belly of your strappy purse. 

"Don't go over the top with it, alright?" he says, watching the green bud dissappear.

Jeans back in place and still bare-chested, Eddie sits on the end of his bed and scratches the back of his neck. You give him a grateful smile. "No, I won't. I actually think I might sleep really well tonight without it." 

He smirks. "I bet you will." 

Eddie walks with you to the front porch. You'd linger if you didn't have to go, and you're pretty sure he'd let you. There's a fraction of awkward silence.

"See you later," you say, walking sideways down one step, another. 

Eddie catches your hand. It takes you a second to realise what he's done: forced your crumpled thirty dollars back into your hand. Your heart misses a beat and you feel your stomach plumet – you hadn't fucked him for the free pot. 

"Eddie-" 

"My girl can't pay for her own supply. That's not happening." 

You take one step up. "Your girl?" 

He has the good graces to look nervous. "If you wanna be." 

You don't know how to answer. He looks pretty like this in the last dregs of sunshine, big brown eyes waiting patiently for you to say something, hand clutching his elbow. It doesn't feel entirely real. 

You step on tip toes and work your hands behind his neck to kiss his cheek before rubbing your forehead against his chin. "I'll come by tomorrow?" you ask hopefully. He relaxes under your weight.

"Any time you want. I'll take you some place nice, if you're up for it." 

You set back on your heels and pull away. "You don't need to go all fancy on me, Munson." You're happy to get stoned and eat burgers on the couch.

He looks you up and down, eyes catching on the flanks of your thighs before he takes in your face. His smile is almost dorky when he says, "No I- I think I do. I'll see you tomorrow, pretty girl." 

You nod with an aching smile and are a little ways away when he smugly calls, "Sleep well!" 

After the lesson he just gave you, you're sure you will. 

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist

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[abi-endings]

for your viewing pleasure (em)

the girl in eddie's favourite porno mag looks real familiar...

over 4k words (i couldn't help it i'm sorry), best friends to lovers, dirty talk, joking about non consensual touching (it's a single line and absolutely a joke), lots of pet names, weed use obvi, eddie's been jerking it to a pic of someone who looks like reader so if that's an issue don't read, no use of y/n. reader’s hair reaches her shoulders. also unprotected sex (even these two idiots know that’s a bad idea)

no vol two spoilers here!

a/n: i'm so horny for eddie munson i just needed to write this. i'm still working on multiple bridgerton one shots so don't worry, i've not neglected them, eddie is just my fave rn

you quite literally could not believe your eyes.

you had really seen some shit these last few years. visiting your friend robin at work one afternoon had pulled you into an absolute mess of russians and alternate dimensions and kids with psychic powers and numbers for names. if anyone had told you two years ago that steve ‘the hair’ harrington would be dropping you at school most mornings, that your closest friends would be a group of fifteen year olds, that you would be best pals with eddie fucking munson? you’d never believe them. but this was truly the most unbelievable thing you’d ever seen.

you don’t know why. it was unmistakable. uncanny, really. laid out, literally bare in front of you.

the girl in the centrefold of eddie munson’s most dog-eared, crinkle-paged, unnervingly sticky porno mag looked just like you.

you knew snooping in his room was wrong, but you had no idea there were still secrets between the two of you anymore. you’d been joined at the hip since steve had introduced you the year before, and you weren’t really looking through his stuff, you just wanted to find his stash so you could roll you guys something for when he got back from his shower. but then your fingers had closed around something glossy under his bed and you just had to know what was in it. you weren’t expecting anything like this, maybe just some softcore shit you could tease him about for a couple weeks, but the magazine had opened on its own to its apparently most viewed page, and your jaw had dropped with it.

you couldn’t see all of her, just from the lips down to the knees. she was led down, mouth spread in a wide grin, lacy white underwear adorning her hips. her breasts were exposed, nipples pebbled to the seemingly cold air, and she was trailing her hands up her stomach teasingly. her knees were bent to the side in a look-but-can’t-touch sort of gesture. it was almost tasteful compared to the open mouths and hairy bushes of the other photos. and she literally looked just like you. the hair falling over her shoulder was the exact shade as yours, and even her breasts seemed to be the same size. her skin could’ve been matched to yours at a make up counter, and the shape of her hips and thighs was so reminiscent you would’ve believed they were yours had you not known otherwise.

so why the fuck was eddie looking at this photo? there were a couple of possibilities to be pondered. first, it was a second hand magazine. as gross as that thought was, the person who handed it to him might not have even known you. it was also possible that eddie had never thought of what you might look like under your clothes, which whilst a little deflating (god knows you’d thought about what he looked like under his) was a definite possibility. and then there was the alternative, which was that eddie had realised she looked like you and jacked off anyway, which meant…

you didn’t have time to think about it, though, because eddie was making his way noisily back to his room. quickly, you threw the magazine under his pillow and led back on it, rearranging your skirt and pretending to pick at your nails just as he threw the door open. he was still wet and, you were glad to see, completely shirtless. he leant an arm against his doorframe, the very top of his boxers peaking out from under his tight jeans in a way that had your mouth watering just a little bit. you couldn’t deny that eddie was attractive, and more than once you’d woken up in a cold sweat after having certain dreams about him. but he’d never given any indication that your feelings were reciprocated. sure, he flirted with you, and he loved being close to you, slinging an arm over your shoulder in queues and having a hand on your thigh when he drove. but that was just how he was. with everyone.

‘wanna smoke something, babe?’ he winked, and with a roll of your eyes he came and sat next to you, dragging his lunchbox out. of course. he kept it in his underwear drawer.

───

‘baby, i’m tellin’ you, the lord of the rings is a fucking epic!’ eddie cried out, joint in one hand and the other waving wildly through the air as he tried to prove his point. you plucked it from his fingers, allowing yourself to indulge in the way they brushed yours for a second.

‘dude, i don’t disagree, but i’m saying it’s not long enough for all the lore! like, come the fuck on, it’s two hours long for like, seven books! that’s at least four movies,’ you argued your own back, laughing at how eddie rolled his eyes. ‘some of us can read, munson, and those books are fuckin’ long.’ you smiled at him sarcastically, squealing as his hands reached out to tickle your waist. his body rolled halfway onto yours, pulling the blunt from your hand and taking one final hit before stubbing it out on his bedside table. long fingers clasped around yours, dragging both hands above your head to tickle your arms and you were laughing and from under your head… an unmistakable sound of paper rustling.

you froze instantly, and you knew eddie had heard it. your eyes shot open, and you could feel blood spreading up your chest and neck and across your face.

‘sweetheart…’ eddie looked into your eyes, and in that awful second, you knew exactly what was about to happen. slowly, carefully, with both of your hands still trapped in one of his above your head and his pelvis pressed into your left hip, he reached under his pillow and came out with the magazine. folded open on the centrefold. you were frozen under him, horrified and in shock and vaguely aware of the fact that your skirt had been rucked up to your mid-thigh by eddie’s leg and your underwear was dangerously close to being exposed. no time for that now, though. not when eddie had caught you going through his stuff and he was going to kick you out or call you a weirdo or, oh god-

‘i see you found my dirty little secret, babe. what’d’ya think?’

your head shot up. he asked you like he was asking about the weather, so casual and restrained. not the voice of a man who’d just caught his best friend rifling through his porn collection. your words came out trembling, made worse by the fact that he still had a hold of your wrists.

‘i didn’t mean to, i was looking for your weed.’ 

eddie scoffed, looking down into your face once again. his pupils had blown out, a mix of the high and something else, and his eyes looked black.

‘you sure baby? because you seem nervous. i think you saw something you like.’ his voice was still teasing, but there was something darker lurking there. you swallowed harshly, and he abruptly let go of your wrists, sitting up.

‘was it this one? perv.’ he joked, unfolding the picture to show her in her entirety. even from this angle, she was just like you, and you gulped again.

‘it was open on that one when i found it,’ you murmured, and for a split second eddie looked… embarrassed? the tips of his ears were flushing a bright red under his hair. you took this as an opportunity to sit up under him, and now he was half straddling your left thigh as he sat on his knees. you fiddled with the edge of your skirt, thinking about how he’d called you a perv. perv! after you’d found outthat he had been staring at a picture of you - well, not you, but, you know - naked! and before you knew it, the words were tumbling from your lips and you tried to stop them, you really did but-

‘she looks an awful lot like me, eddie.’

his face, which had been hidden behind his curtain of long hair as he played with the ragged corners of the magazine, shot up, and his eyes met yours once more. this time he seemed even more embarrassed, if possible. his cheeks were bright red, eyes open in shock, and he was gnawing painfully on his lower lip, a habit you’d noticed he kept when he was nervous. he opened his mouth to respond but you had already started now, and the words were falling from your lips like vomit.

‘i mean, you can’t see her face, but that’s what i look like when i’m- well, not exactly like that but her boobs are just like mine and… not that you think about my boobs or anything or you’ve even seen them to know what they look like but it’s actually a bit creepy how alike we look.’ your hands flew to cover your mouth, and you were wide-eyed. ‘not that you’re creepy! god no, i mean, i’m flattered, really, but…’ you shut up then, not because you had realised that you were rambling like robin but because there was a hand on the back of your neck and one on your waist and eddie’s lips were on yours.

they were chapped and slightly raw from him chewing on them, but so soft and his tongue was minty as he eased it into you. he was breathing heavily, and a subdued moan worked it’s way into your mouth when you gripped his bare shoulders and tugged him into you. you had no idea what this meant, mind reeling as he pulled you closer so you were now straddling his thigh, both of you sat up on your knees. the hand that spread over your waist splayed across the expanse of your back, travelling lower until it met the crease between your ass and thigh. his long fingers pinched at the skin there, pulling a whimper from you as you rolled your hips against his leg in response. his own bucked up against you, the denim seam of his jeans rubbing against your soft inner thigh and making you gasp. you pulled away ever so slightly to meet eddie’s eyes, and he tried to chase your lips, letting out a whine.

then he was dragging his lips down your neck to where it met your shoulder, working at the skin with his teeth and chuckling as you whimpered.

‘eds!’

‘yes, babe?’ 

his voice came from under your line of sight, muffled against your reddening neck, and you craned it to try and get a glimpse of his face. instead, you saw him pull away, smiling proudly at the mark that he had most definitely left with his mouth. cockily, he dragged his eyes up to yours.

‘the girl in the magazine-‘

‘would you believe me if i told you i bought it because she looks like you?’ he looked almost bashful asking you, a total contrast to a moment ago, and you couldn’t help the way your jaw dropped. 

‘i know i’ve never seen you naked, but some of these skirts you wear leave very little to the imagination, and you were wearing a white shirt when we jumped into lover’s lake that time. worst place to pop a boner.’ he chuckled as you hit his arm lightly. he was right though; you’d dived in after steve without hesitation, and eddie had had to lend you his jean jacket for your ‘modesty’.

‘i’m sorry, baby, i thought i’d been makin’ it clear how i felt about you.’ his voice had dropped to a murmur as his eyes explored your face, lingering on the way your lips had swollen with his kiss. without thinking, he reached up to cup your cheek, and he wanted the way your eyelashes fluttered closed imprinted on the inside of his brain forever.

‘thought you were just playin’ with me, eds.’ you gulped as he ran his thumb over your lower lip, tugging on it gently. his forehead creased, eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

‘never playing with you, baby. i wouldn’t fuck with your feelings like that,’ his nose nudged against yours as he pulled you into another searing but short kiss, ringed fingers clutching your chin so that he could commandeer the exchange. he angled your face delightfully, leaning you back so you had to arch your chest against his to follow him.

‘wish you’d made it clearer,’ you gasped when his left hand clutched your ass, pulling your crotch towards his own, ‘could’ve been doing this since that night at the lake.’

a laugh rumbled in his chest, fingers stretching back to grasp the back of your head.

‘wanted you a lot longer than that night, babe. i’ve had that mag since i was sixteen.’ you giggled at this, pulling back to stare at him in disbelief.

‘is that right, munson?’ you arched an eyebrow at him. he held a hand up as if in defense, leaving the other firmly attached to your ass.

‘you said it was flattering! would it make you feel better if i said it’s not just because i think you’re hot?’ he asked, sounding sincere. ‘i’ve wanted you a long time, gorgeous, not just to fuck you. i wanna make you mine, y’know? that’s why i’m always callin’ you baby, and touchin’ you up a little-‘

‘i fucking knew it wasn’t an accident when you grabbed my tit last week!’

‘i didn’t grab it, i brushed it. and anyway, i meant how i’m always draggin’ you closer, tryna keep you under my arm, especially when you wear sexy shit like this.’ he reached down to rub the hem of your short black skirt between a thumb and finger. you had noticed the effect that you had on him when you wore certain items of clothing; long socks, denim shorts, band shirts. you always thought it was because he was just a man - god knows you’d caught harrington staring a couple times. but with eddie, you now knew it was different for you both. if you were honest with yourself, it had been building up to this moment for months. and you knew what you had to do.

‘look, eds, i’m gonna be honest with you. i really want that shit too. i want to get milkshakes in town, i wanna drive in the van with you, i wanna go see shitty bands in shitty bars outta town. but…’ you grabbed his hand and pushed it up your thigh, revelling in the way he groaned when his fingertips made contact with the damp fabric at the apex of your thighs. ‘right now, i really need you to do somethin’ about this.’

suddenly, you were on your back again. the movement made your tummy flip, butterflies erupting when eddie kissed you again. before, he’d been gentle; probing and exploring. this time, the kiss was tongues and teeth, and his hips were rutting against your thigh, pushing your skirt up to expose your underwear.

‘you’re fuckin’ kidding,’ eddie moaned out when he saw that you were wearing white. it wasn’t on purpose, but it was almost identical to the photo, and for a moment eddie munson thought he had died and gone to heaven. you made a move to pull your panties down your legs, but you swore you heard him growl before his hand flew out to stop them.

‘baby, i’m gonna need you to keep these on. turn over for me.’

you did as he said, flipping over so you were face down in his pillow, propped up on your elbows. behind you, you could feel eddie’s eyes burning into you. you could imagine how 

you probably looked right now; skirt flipped up, legs spread for eddie to kneel between them, wet spot between your legs as ringed fingers rubbed over your cheeks. two of them plunged between your legs suddenly, rubbing quickly over where you wanted him most, and you mewled and bucked your hips back towards him. a big hand pushed against your lower back, forcing you back down.

’shh, baby, i’m gettin’ there. just busy looking, you’ll have to wait a minute.’

his voice was hard but you knew he wanted it as much as you did, and you were proven right when, not a minute later, two long fingers pushed under the fabric and straight into your heat.

you couldn’t help the moan that slipped past your lips, hips keening back against his hand again as he searched for the spot that would make you scream. fingers crooked, eddie started stroking up against you, wrapping the other hand around your waist. he yanked you up so your back was pressed against his chest, and the change in angle led him right to what he was looking for.

‘fuck, eddie!’ you cried out, and you could feel his hard cock twitching against your ass through his jeans.

‘is that it baby? right there?’ he asked through gritted teeth, and the hand wrapped around your waist pushed its way down your skirt and into your underwear to rub at your clit. both hands were almost too much, and you would’ve been embarrassed at how quickly he had you working for release did it not feel so good. eddie was so caught up in making you cum that he didn’t even realise you had let go of his arm until your hand was wrapped around his dick, and he choked on a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

‘sweetheart, fuck, i can’t concentrate if you do that,’ he moaned out, clutching onto you even tighter than he had been before. you laughed breathily around a moan, hips grinding down on eddie’s fingers to speed up your impending orgasm.

‘sorta the idea, babe.’ eddie was nosing at your neck, pressing kisses to the back of your ear, and your words just made him work that little bit harder to get you there.

‘god, i really wanna fuck you right now.’

‘so do it.’

he stopped still and you turned around to look at him for the first time since he’d started touching you. he looked fucked out already; his lips were spit soaked and swollen, his chest was heaving and his eyes were wide open, drinking the image of you down.

‘fuck, babe, d’you really mean it? you don’t have to, i’m probably gonna have to beat off after this anyway.’ 

instead of answering, you reached down, stripping off your shirt and shimmying your skirt down your legs, leaving you sat in just your white underwear, pulled to one side. eddie’s knees almost buckled under him, and he grabbed your face to pull you into another kiss. the angle was awkward, you turning over your left shoulder, but it meant you could just about reach his bare cock and rub it through your wet folds. he jumped away like he’d been shocked, eyes pulled like a magnet down to where your bodies threatened to connect.

‘you’re not wearing a fucking bra either. you’re going to be the death of me one of these days,’ he moaned, and you had to stifle a laugh.

‘would it help if i said i never wear a bra around you?’

‘i oughtta put you over my knee and spank you, you dirty girl.’

‘promises, promises, munson. you gonna fuck me now or not?’

he chuckled darkly, swatting your ass cheek with a wink before leaning into his bedside drawer, sighing heavily when he opened it.

‘baby, i’m really sorry, but i’ve got no johnnies.’ eddie rested his chin on your shoulder, nipping at the skin there with his teeth. you leant back into his touch, swallowing heavily.

‘i never did this before,’ you said, and you could almost feel his ears perk up. ‘but i’m on the pill, so as long as you pull out…’

if he died now, he’d be dying a happy man, he was sure of it.

‘fuckin’ hell, babe, you sure?’ he grunted, teeth grazing your ear. ‘i needa hear you say it, sweetheart. tell eddie you want him to fuck you bareback.’ you supposed he was trying to be funny, but it sent a shiver down your spine that he didn’t miss.

‘does it turn you on when i talk to you like that, baby?’ he crooned, and you could just about babble out a ‘shit, yes!’ 

‘then tell me you want me to put it in,’ he teased, rubbing his cock through your folds and bumping your clit in a way that made your eyes roll back in your head.

‘eddie, i swear to fuckin’ god, put it in or i’ll just get myself off.’

‘as tempting as that is to watch, sweetheart,’ he muttered, squeezing your hip, ‘i think i’ll stick to this.’ and with that, he pushed himself in. 

he wasn’t going to put it all in at once; he was gonna spread you nice and slow, fuck it in and out slowly. he knew he was bigger than most girls were used to, and he was gonna use all his self control to make this as easy as possible for you. but as soon as he put the first inch in you were squirming, begging for more and sucking him in like a fucking vacuum and trying to sit down on it. not to mention how wet you were; he’d never known anything like it. so when you leant back and grabbed his arm and looked at him with those beautiful puppy dog eyes and pouty lips and begged ‘baby, please, just fuck me?’ 

well, he was a goner.

you were so turned on you barely even registered the pain of the stretch, but you knew from the way eddie was repeatedly bumping your g spot that he was bigger than anyone you’d ever had before. and he knew how to use it. he was holding it deep, fucking you in slow, grinding thrusts. every part of your body was touching a part of his, as if you were one person, moving together in perfect synchronicity to get you both there. eddie had never been in anyone bare before, and he was starting to feel like he’d never want to use a condom again; he could feel every part of you, and it was bringing him closer and closer to his release with every passing second.

‘eddie, i think i’m gonna cum already,’ you half slurred, half moaned, and he kissed your shoulder, increasing the tempo of his hips. suddenly, you felt the knot break and your orgasm washed over you in a crescendo, and you cried out eddie’s name as he fucked you through it. he was using his hands to guide your hips against his, all while whispering in your ear; ‘so good for me, babe, so fuckin’ good, gonna make me cum aren’t you sweetheart? such a beautiful girl, so naughty just for me, ’s that right?’ you were nodding along with his words, fingers clutching onto him tightly and so wrapped up in the moment that when he stilled his hips and gasped ‘oh fuck, babe, ‘m gonna cum, you need to get off,’ you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop rocking against him. your head was leant back against his shoulder, and you could hear him muttering frantically as he tried to hold onto his orgasm and push you off.

‘eddie, babe?’

‘sweetheart, please, i’m gonna cum, you need to-‘

‘calm down,’ you turned your head, kissing down his neck and stroking his hair gently, ‘just cum in me.’ you felt his thighs still under yours, then tremble as a rush of warmth filled you up. you wished you could bottle up the way eddie moaned into your ear, the way he pushed right up into you and filled you up to the brim, the way he sighed as you kissed his cheek when he finished.

‘babe, that was really hot, but fuck, we really shouldn’t have done that,’ he murmured, pulling out and feeling terrible at the way you whined.

‘’m on the pill, we’re good,’ you whispered, eyelids drooping as you climbed into eddie’s bed, completely naked.

‘shouldn’t you go, like, pee or?’ eddie asked, combing long fingers through your knotty hair, and you noticed he had, at least, pulled his boxers back on.

‘shhh, sleep time. i’ll do that later. we can get a plan b too, if you’re worried.’ you yawned, and eddie’s heart soared when you made grabby hands up at him. ‘now come get in bed, i need a cuddle.’

‘yes, ma’am.’

‘don’t make it fuckin’ weird, munson.’

[abi-endings]

This is just so slutty

[abi-endings]

They're talking about their blorbos. 😌 (No, really, look below the cut.

Ko-Fi

Bonus sketch:

[abi-endings]

trying to brush his hair<3

“you get that thing away from me, y/n! i swear to god, i’ll scream!”

“the hell do you mean, you’ll scream? quit being a baby and come here.”

“no. no way. you’re not touching me with that- that thing.”

“it’s a hairbrush, edward. not a gun.” you said with a scowl, arms crossed with a hairbrush in hand, a set distance between the two of you in his trailer. his bed head was unbelievably wild upon waking up, and you were going to take matters into your own hands.

he was like a child when it came to basic hygiene. you often had to remind him to brush his teeth, and you could always tell when he didn’t, your nose scrunching when you’d kiss. and usually you didn’t mind his wild hair, you loved it, in fact, but it was beyond disastrous today, possibly even a biohazard.

“but it’s metal, y/n!” he pouted, pulling at the ends of his hair and giving a small hop of his feet.

“everything is metal to you eddie. either you do it for i’m doing it for you, but you can’t go out looking like- well that.”

he gave you more pouts and begged with his eyes before tentatively taking the brush from your hand. he acted like he didn’t even know how to use it, watching him awkwardly rake it through a few strands of poofy curls.

“goodness, sit down. i’ll do it.” you pushed him to sit on the couch, and you crawled behind him, sitting cross legged.

“be careful!” he held up his hands. “my hair is my most prized possession.”

“i thought i was?”

“not after today you’re not.” he went to chuckle, but squealed when you tore through a not.

[abi-endings]

eddie locking his legs around your head to choke you on his big fat cock 💞

mmmmrgsn

you think his thighs have gotten thicker. really they must have. cupped around your ears like they are, your fingers digging into them as you struggle to breathe through your nose, just like eddie taught you.

spit is dripping down his balls, bubbles smearing down your chin where you can feel the light flesh of his sack touching it. you're drooling on him.

eddie doesn't seem to mind. hes got a hand tangled in your hair, the other one running up and down his chest idly. hes laying down, legs curled up and cuffing your head to his dick. the postion is lewd, like you're nothing more then a toy. your throat is already straining from the abuse.

you moan and gurgle around him and you feel his thighs tighten around you, his fingers dig into your scalp, "stop thinking." he says, voice thick and rough, he kicks up his pelvis and rocks your head down more over his cock, your nose burying in his pubes. "you don't need to think with my cock in your throat, baby. just let me use that mouth to warm me up- thereee you go."

he watches as your eyes go blank and hazy. rewards you with his hand brushing back your sweaty hair from your forehead. squeezes his legs around your head even more and shifts so his cock plugs your throat even further, if possible.

"sweet little honey." he croons, "stay just like that" his head tips back, hair pillowing around him as he settles. "relax that hole f'r me. that's a good- good girl. treating daddy so fucking nice."

[abi-endings]

title: diving deep

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Cheerleader!Reader

Warnings: cheerleading, jocks, nudity, lotsa fluff, a little bit of angst, ignoring canon events, this is basically stranger things without the upside down, and some differing events, light stranger things spoilers, cliffhanger?

Word Count: ~5k

Summary: A dip in the lake to clear your mind leads you to meet someone new under some... less than ideal circumstances.

A/N: here's one of my three entries for lisa @cockslutpadalecki and lau @sweeterthanthis's Love (To Challenge) Yourself writing challenge <3 i'm considering continuing this as a series, so if you like it, let me know! here's the prompt i picked:

“You can keep the shirt. You look better in it than me anyway.”

it's bolded in the fic where it's used. not beta'd, so all mistakes and typos are mine.

if you enjoy it, reblog it! and leave a comment! :')

You ruminated on the name of Lover’s Lake every time you went out there. Who named it that? Who thought that was a good idea? Who were they in love with? Did that person love them back?

These questions swirled in your head as you unlaced your shoes, your feet aching after cheer practice earlier. Sitting on an old, forgotten log out in the forest was meditative for you, a reprieve from the stress of high school, which, surprisingly, was pretty high. But this was your last year, and then you’d be free. You’d turned eighteen a few weeks ago, and now that school was about a month in, you couldn’t wait to live on your own.

Your thoughts led you subconsciously through the familiar ritual of stripping out of your clothes. Your socks go into your shoes so that they’re easier to find, for one, but secondly, so that they don’t drop on the damp forest floor and stain– your mother would kill you if you ruined one more pair of bobby socks. Next, your shell top and skirt of your cheerleading uniform slide over and down your body, respectively, and are set aside on your log, folded neatly on top of each other. Lastly, you peel your bra and panties off your body, still wettish from practice earlier, and drop them on top of your folded uniform.

The sun is hanging low in the sky; a beautiful, late Saturday evening all to yourself as you wade out into the cool September water. Once it reaches you mid-thigh, you press the palms of your hands together, bend your knees, and dive, plunging deep into the lake.

The rushing silence of the water surrounding you is cleansing, in a way. You imagine the water wiping your slate clean, almost as if it gives you a fresh start for the coming week. No dread over your after-school job, no anxiety over upcoming projects, no fear of a rejection letter showing up in the mail any day now, no hassle from the jocks who think they can ask you out every other day.

Ugh. That last one was especially important to scrub away.

The worst one of them all was Jason, by far. Ever since Chrissy had dumped him at the start of the year, he’d been on the hunt to find a girlfriend on the team. Just to rub it in her nose or something, you guessed. Boy logic rarely made sense.

And for some reason, he thought that your multiple blatant refusals to go out with him actually meant, “Chase me, big boy, try harder and I’ll be yours.”

Idiot.

You surface and wipe the water from your eyes, turning your face upwards to soak in what you could of the fast-leaving sun rays when you hear them.

“There’s no way, dude, absolutely not,” a male voice jokes, loud and mocking. They’re still fairly far away, but you’re pretty sure he’s one of the players on the basketball team. And that can only mean one thing.

“What, you don’t think I have any shot?” Jason responds.

Great. Shit.

“Dude, she acts like you’re the plague the way she avoids you,” a third boy says.

You drop your head lower so that just your eyes remain above the water, hoping to escape unnoticed, grab your clothes, and bolt, leaving them none the wiser.

“Patrick, dude, shut up, okay. She’s made for me and I know it. She just hasn’t figured it out yet,” Jaso retorts, puffing out his chest.

They’re in sight a lot quicker than you thought they’d be, and your evasion plan goes out the window. There’s no way you can make it to your things before they do. The only thing you can do now is stay quiet and hope to God they just think your head is a duck or something.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” Patrick snickers.

“Why are we even out here, man? There’s way better places we could be, like the pool or the mall, somewhere babes will be. Not the woods,” the voice you’ve now identified as Andy complains, throwing his head back.

“I didn’t ask you to come, okay? I saw her come this way, and I just wanted to talk to her, that’s all. Reason with her. You could’ve stayed in the gym,” Jason explains, his head on a swivel as he hunts for you.

The idea sends a shiver up your spine as you tread water. He’d been watching you? How creepy is that? And how long had he been watching you? Just today? Or longer? You’d wretch if your head wasn’t half submerged, and you’ll be thrilled when they finally get the hell away from here so you can get the hell out of here.

“I mean, we couldn’t just leave you out here looking all alone and pathetic,” Patrick replies.

Andy slings his arm over Patrick’s shoulders, chuckling, “Yeah, plus imagine how lame that’d make us look.”

Jason turns around, having been leading the group, and shoves Andy on the shoulder, causing him to stumble back a few steps. “Dude, just shut up already, okay? You gonna help me or not?”

Andy rolls his shoulders, fixing his ball cap, then shoving his hands in the pockets of his letterman jacket. “Yeah, whatever,” he answers. You can detect a hint of annoyance and meekness, and his bravado deflating before your eyes makes you giggle, your laughter bubbling to the surface in front of you.

The three of them drop into silence after Andy gets scolded by Jason, stomping their way through the woods. Patrick and Andy couldn’t care less about finding you, but Jason. Jason seems on a mission, poking his head around every mangled tree and mossy boulder in his path, scouring around for you. It almost makes you pity them. They’re next to a wide open lake, and none of them turns their heads your way even once.

In only a few short minutes, their backs are turned toward you as they trudge along on their merry, futile quest. Their footsteps fade, and with that, your peace returns. Content in knowing they won’t be coming back, you shut your eyes again, tilting your head back until you’re floating, your chest and stomach bobbing out of the water as you straighten out your legs to keep yourself buoyant.

The sky has dimmed a decent amount, but the quietude beneath the water reconciles any leftover frayed nerves from your close encounter. The waves lapping at your bare skin help to soothe you, their rhythmic beat hypnotic. Everything is calm.

That is, until you hear a loud voice calling out to you from the shore.

Startled, you flinch, losing your balance and dunking yourself under the water, sputtering as you resurface. After rubbing your eyes and forcing the extra water out of your nose, you squint, wondering who in the hell figured out you were down here.

Jason’s stupid, grinning face comes into focus as your vision clears, and he starts waving at you, motioning for you to swim over. Knowing you’re caught, you roll your eyes and start slowly paddling toward him.

Once you’re within a few yards of him, he starts trying to sweet talk you. “Hey, beautiful! Been lookin’ all over for ya!”

You attempt a smile, but it lays flat as a grimace, “Well, you found me.”

You’ve reached a shallow enough part of the lake to where you can stand, but only your shoulders and above are exposed to the dusky night air.

When his only response is to smirk at you with his hands clasped behind his back, you can feel your face contort into a question mark.

“So… can I… help you with something?” you inquire, annoyed that now is when he’s chosen to go silent.

At this point, you’ve been thoroughly deprived of your solace. You’re grumpy, tired, a little bit cold, and you just want to get out of the lake and go home to your warm bed. Unfortunately, you need him to leave before you can do any of that. No way were you getting changed in front of this fucking guy.

“How about you and me go out Friday night after the game?” Jason asks, waggling his eyebrows at you and tilting his head down. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while.” He flashes his million-watt grin, and it’s enough to make you puke.

“Uhm,” you sputter, your surprised inhale inviting water into your lungs, “gosh, you know, I think I’m busy after the game next week. Sorry.”

His smirk turns more mischievous, and you gulp down a pang of unease. “That is a shame,” he drawls slowly, taking a step forward. You aren’t sure what he’s got on his mind, but you don’t like it.

“Say, aren’t you a little chilly out there? It’s getting close to nightfall, why don’t you come out here and let me help warm you up?” he continues, taking another step.

“I appreciate the offer,” you say through gritted teeth that are beginning to chatter, “but I’m a big girl. I’ll be alright on my own.”

“Seems like a pretty vulnerable place to be, all alone in Lover’s Lake at sundown. Maybe you wanna reconsider my offer. My arms are open and waiting.”

Rolling your eyes so hard you swear you saw a flash of the inside of your skull, you draw your arms in close, rubbing them over the chilling skin now that the sun has nearly fully dipped below the treeline. Your fingers brush against the bare skin of your breast, and that’s when you remember.

Oh, shit. Oh, shit shit. Vulnerable is a fucking understatement. You’re fully nude in this lake.

Your eyes flick to your trusty log bench, and you feel a little color drain from your face when you note that it’s markedly lacking your clothes.

Jason’s chuckle pulls your eyes back to him, “Looking for these?”

He holds his arm out, and in his grubby hands are your uniform and your matching underwear set.

“Hey, put those back!” you yell, taking a step forward in the muck and thrusting your arm out as if you could pluck them from him right then and there. You feel a cool breeze skate across the top of your breast and immediately put your arm down, crossing both fully over your chest.

He laughs again, “I will, I will.” He takes a few steps away from the shoreline, then turns back to you, simpering. “You can have them back once you agree to go out with me next Friday.”

You stare at him, stunned. “Ex-cuse me?” you ask, incredulous. Who did this asshat think he was?

“I think you heard me, sweetheart,” his eyes turn menacing again. “Agree to go on a date, and I’ll even help you change, being the stand-up guy that I am.”

You scoff, turning away and shaking your head, your arms still crossed. What a dick. What an absolute dick.

“So,” you start, shifting back around to face him, “are you saying you won’t give me my clothes back if I say no?”

“You catch on quick,” he quips proudly, rocking on his heels. “You shouldn’t have left them in such an obvious place. I spotted them a while ago when I was walking through here with my boys,” he explains, unwarranted, “but, being the handsome and heroic gentleman that I am, I convinced them to head on home before I came back to talk to you.” That million-watt smile makes another appearance, but it just hardens your expression. “Couldn’t just leave my girl out here to brave the elements alone.”

“This is a real shit way to ask a girl out, y’know,” you spit out, beginning to seethe. “I mean, you’re holding my clothes hostage, for Christ’s sake! This is, like, blackmail or something!”

“All you have to do is say yes, baby, and you can have them.”

“I’m not your baby, dickhead.”

That seems to have been the magic word, because his expression changes.

“Now, now,” he condescends, “that’s no way to talk to someone who just wants to get to know you better.”

“I don’t want to get to know you better is the problem!” you shout, throwing your hands up in the air. “Now, give me my clothes and leave!”

Jason doesn’t take too kindly to that, “No, I think I’ll take them with me. You seem a little hostile right now, you’re being unreasonable” He smirks at your exasperated expression. “But if you change your mind, drop by my place and come grab ‘em. I’ll be there, ready to accept your offer for a date after a little groveling. I think that’s only fair.”

You protest, throwing your hands down onto the water, splashing in a fury, “Jason! Jason, you come back here and give me my goddamn clothes!”

Jason salutes you with the hand holding your garments and turns on his heel, hiking steadily away from your mounting objections until he’s completely out of sight. Frustrated, you let out a shriek and viciously splash the water, taking your anger out on it.

That asshole. That absolute asshole! What were you supposed to do, walk down the street butt naked? There was no way in hell you were doing that. Shit. What do you do? What do you do?!

A soft clear of the throat spooks you, your head whipping up, eyes wide, trying to find the source of the noise. If it was Jason again, he was as good as dead.

But, no. Instead, a different guy stands before you. His hair is long and dark, down past his shoulders, with a beautiful wave to it. He’s got on the heavy-looking combination of a jacket and a denim vest and dark jeans with chains hanging from the pockets. He smiles at you sheepishly.

“Hi,” he voices, unsure, “I uh, I couldn’t help but overhear–” he gestures wildly behind him in the vague direction in which Jason had gone, “–whatever that was. I saw him leave without you, and I came to make sure you were okay.”

Your heart melts just a little. Wow, you think to yourself, that’s very sweet.

He stands before you awkwardly when you don’t immediately respond, rubbing the back of his head, “So, if uh, if– if you’re all good, I can just–”

“No!” you exclaim, louder than you had intended. “No, don’t go. I could, uhm, use a little help.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he responds, looking slightly surprised. You guess he expected you to shoo him away immediately.

“It’s just that, that asshole–” you gesture in Jason’s vague direction as he had moments before, “–apparently thought it would be a cute idea to take my clothes with him.”

It’s your turn to be uncomfortable as this stranger shifts on his feet, crossing and uncrossing his arms. “Oh, shit, yeah that’s– what an asshole,” he props his head up by his elbow, covering his mouth with his hand, clearly nervous.

“And the other thing is…” you say slowly, mimicking his discomfort, “ …I’m kind of nude out here.”

He doesn’t react except to freeze in place. After a long pause, he mumbles out from behind his hand, “Huh.” He takes another pause, exhales loudly, then asks, “Okay, so how can I…?”

“Well,” you answer practically, “it would be really great if you could find me a towel somewhere? Or at least something to help me kinda… cover up for my walk home?”

Giving him a task seems to set him in motion again, “Oh, yeah, sure! Yeah, of course, I can definitely do that.” He gives you a sweet, goofy, close-lipped smile as he takes a step back, “I’ll just–”

He stops, watching you as a chill runs through you. The sky is painted fully with blue hues by this point, nary a sweeping stroke of sunlight to be found anywhere, the water getting colder by the minute.

“Hey, maybe you should get out of there, it’s gotta be freezing. We can hunt around together.”

You give him an incredulous look, and he puts his hands out reassuringly, “I’ll keep you safe. Promise.”

Looking at him, unthreatening and sincere in his offer, you believe him. “Well,” you can hear your teeth chattering emphatically as you respond, “yeah, okay. One problem: still naked.”

Even in the dim light, you can tell he’s blushing. He looks down as he replies, “Right. Yeah.”

He pauses, thinking for a moment, until he looks up at you, “I think I’ve got a solution for that. You come out of there before you freeze to death. I won’t look.”

Immediately, he turns around, facing the woods. You smile a little bit to yourself. He’s being charming and caring in a way that you’re not used to. Those other idiots at the school just want you because of your popularity at school and for the bragging rights to tell all their friends about how they banged you, you know that. But this guy– this guy is being genuine in a circumstance where any other man would be, well, awful. Plain and simple.

You look at him for a beat, your eyes softening on him, while something stirs in your chest. You can’t dwell on what that could possibly be for long, though, as a shudder ripples through you. That sets you in motion, taking long strides as you splash toward the shoreline, paying close attention to where you step so as not to fall flat on your face in front of this guy. Not that that even mattered right now.

Slowing down, trying to figure out a way to cover all of your exposed parts at once and failing completely, you announce to your new mystery friend, “I’m right behind you, so uh… don’t turn around, okay?”

He gives you a quick thumbs up in response, then offers, “Try this. It’ll help.”

With his back still turned to you, he reaches behind himself, holding out what looks to be clothing. Grateful, you wade fully out of the lake, arm outstretched as you shiver violently against the night air.

What he hands you is warm and smells like a mixture of a woodsy cologne, the freshness of the forest air, and… yep, you’re pretty sure that’s weed. You smile, shaking your head as you slip on what looks to be a raglan t-shirt and his heavy leather jacket. Slipping your arms into the sleeves, you feel comforted, the weight of it protecting you.

“Okay, should be good,” you announce, as dressed as you can be with no pants or undergarments. The t-shirt and jacket are surprisingly long on you, acting as a makeshift dress, though one you would be remiss to bend over in.

The helpful stranger turns slowly, as if wanting to offer you enough time to still get covered in case you misspoke about being done.

Another smile breaks out across his face, lopsided and amused, as he turns to face you completely, “You look great. Excellent fashion sense.”

You drop into an exaggerated curtsy, “Thank you, thank you, Vivienne Westwood is absolutely quaking in her boots right now. Though, I couldn’t have done it without my excellent assistant.” You hold your hand out as if you’re presenting him, and he laughs, crossing his arms. A thought then occurs to you, “Oh, shoot, I never got your name!”

He grins, saying, “Eddie.”

“Well, Eddie,” you start, standing upright again, “thanks for happening upon what would have been the worst experience of my life, I’m–”

He shoos your words away with his hand, “Nah nah, no need, I know who you are.”

You stare at him, puzzled. “Have we met?”

“Ah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “yeah. But it’s been a while.”

He motions for you to follow him, heading out of the woods and toward the safety of home.

“You’re sure? Really?” you ask, dumbfounded. You feel like you’d definitely remember meeting him.

As you pass your log again, you notice your shoes left sitting on the underbrush beside it. Letting out a relieved sigh, you sit for a second, putting your socks and shoes back on, grateful you don’t have to trek home barefooted.

Eddie stands beside you as if he were guarding you. You feel your cheeks heat, and you look down as you tie on your shoes, a tiny smile painted on your face that won’t seem to go away.

“I’m sure. Really.” He laughs to himself, then proffers, “I probably look a little different than I did back then.” His eyes slide over to you as you look up at him, his now signature grin plastered on, “My hair was a little shorter.” He holds up strands of his hair, making them dance, pulling a giggle from you.

The two of you continue your journey out of the woods, and as you’re breaking twigs beneath your sneakers, you struggle to hunt through your memories for him.

He must have been able to sense your puzzlement, because he explains without prompting, “There was a talent show in middle school, big school talent show. You did your cheerleading thing with your friends.” He mimes shaking pom poms, reeling in a deeper laugh from you.

Wiping the sides of his mouth with his thumb and forefinger in a pleased manner, he continues, “Yeah, I was– I was in a band with my buddies. Kind punk, kinda rock, definitely all excellent musicians, of course.” He gives you a good-humored smile, then sticks his tongue à la Gene Simmons, rocking his head and whipping his gorgeous long hair back and forth. He stops, pushing stray hairs out of his view. “Anyway–”

It dawns on you, and your eyes widen, alight with the sudden rush of recollection, “Corroded Coffin!”

Eddie’s head whirls around toward you, his movement so sudden he nearly startles you into the trunk of a tree. He takes hold of your elbow, steadying you, his surprised, elated eyes mimicking yours, “You do remember!”

Nodding enthusiastically, you respond, “Yeah, you guys were awesome!”

Sheepish and a little embarrassed, Eddie drops his head, still smiling, “Yeah, well… thanks.” He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, “We still play, y’know.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” he smiles wider, pulling his lower lip between his teeth, “yeah, Tuesdays at The Hideout.”A silence falls between the two of you, something comfortable and contented, before he says in a more hushed tone, “You should come by. Check me out.”

You smirk and raise your eyebrows, turning your head to look at him.

“Oh, sh– us! Come check us out. The band.” Eddie fumbles with his words, trying to save face.

“Right, right,” you reply, nodding your head slowly. You let the silence between the two of you run again, this time a little bit longer, before you add, “I might just do that.”

Without realizing it, you’ve ended up on your street just in front of your house. It saddens you, for reasons you can’t quite put a finger on. “Oh, well. This is me.”

“Yeah.” Eddie shoves his hands in his front pockets, and it’s then that you get a good look at him and realize he’s only got his denim vest on. You glance down, realizing he literally gave you the shirt off his back after having talked to you for less than ten minutes. Where you initially thought it came from, you have no idea. A spare he had, maybe? You hadn’t actually really pondered it, but now, under the street lights, as you’re mesmerized by his exposed skin–

Your cheeks heat again as your eyes meet, “I’ll have to get these back to you tomorrow, if that’s alright. I don’t really fancy strolling through my house completely naked in front of my family.” You giggle awkwardly to ease the sudden tension you feel. You can't stop yourself from stealing peeks at his bare chest.

“You know what,” he starts, “you can keep the shirt. You look better in it than me anyway.”

Your mouth opens and closes, protests falling from your lips, telling him it’s his and there’s no way you could just keep it–

“Sure you can.”

His warm smile has you melting, completely thawing the chill the lake had settled into your bones.

“That jacket though, I’ll need that back. Wrecks the look without it.” He gestures down at himself and winks, and your knees nearly buckle.

Get a grip, holy shit, you chastise yourself, he’s just being nice. Chill out.

“Totally, for sure,” you hastily respond, your bright smile widening to cover the mess you’re turning into around him. “How does Tuesday sound?”

Now, it’s his turn to blush, “Oh– yeah. Yeah! That’d be– perfect, yep.”

Neither of you move, standing in the limbo that is the sidewalk a few yards from your home, staring at each other. Neither wants to be the first to leave.

The dam has to break at some point, though.

“So,” you say, “I’ll see you then, then.” You roll your eyes at how stupid that sounded, giving him a smile that looks more like a wince from embarrassment.

“Yes, you will.”

With that, he takes a step back, bowing deeply, referencing your curtsy from earlier, extending his arm to the side.

You giggle, rolling your eyes again. This boy was absolutely ridiculous. And funny. And sweet. And cute.

He stands back up, slowly, his eyes not leaving yours. You both pause for a beat, and then he leans in toward you, slowly. And you let him.

Do something yet again unexpected, he steers his head off to the side and places a soft kiss on your cheek. Closing your eyes, you sit in that moment as long as you can, not wanting it to end.

Eventually, Eddie pulls back, and your eyes stay closed for a moment longer. When they open, Eddie is already a few steps away, walking backwards so he can look at you.

“Tuesday!” he reminds you, his smile wide.

“Tuesday,” you respond, nodding once and waving.

“At The Hideout!”

“The Hideout, I know!” you laugh, rolling your eyes good-naturedly one last time.

Satisfied, he strides down the sidewalk until he turns a corner, and he’s gone

You bite your bottom lip, gazing after the ghost of him for a while before finally resigning to put the night to bed and go inside.

—

You make your way to the stairs with no one noticing– not your brother, not your sister, not your other sister– the whole of your family is too caught up with the news on the TV screen to care that you barely had any clothing on at all, and that suited you fine. Your parents were way too news-obsessed anyway. Worry warts, the both of them. Though, it does strike you as odd that it’s captured your siblings’ full attention, especially with them being younger than you.

Confused but ultimately unbothered and thrilled they’re not looking your way, you sneak to your bedroom, shut the door softly, and finally take a breath, relaxing. You shrug Eddie’s jacket and shirt off and lay them over the chair at your desk, admiring them for a moment.

As you run the tips of your fingers across the worn leather, his sweet, wholesome, dimpled smile blooms across the forefront of your mind. His long, dark, wavy hair, his warm brown eyes, his bare chest in the moonlight and the v-line that meets his surprisingly low-riding jeans at just the right spot above–

A chill runs over your skin as the AC kicks on, and for the umpteenth time tonight, you have a revelation: you’re fully nude in this room, ogling the clothes of some boy you just met.

Jolting away from the chair and darting into your bathroom, you crank every knob in your shower as high as it can go, steam escaping through the cracks as you shut the door.

—

Toweling off your hair as you step out of the bathroom, plumes of humidity billow out around you, wrapping you in warmth and an extra little bit of irritating dampness. Your eyes rove around your room and land on those foreign articles of clothing draped over your seat. You can feel yourself smiling involuntarily, biting your lower lip as Eddie comes to the forefront of your mind.

Then, a scream comes from downstairs.

You act on instinct, racing out of your room and down the stairs, calling out all the while, “Mom? Mom!” Whipping around the corner, you face your family in the living room, attention still transfixed on the television screen, though your mom is holding her hands over her mouth. She looks scared.

A sinking pit forms in your gut, and you slowly turn your eyes to the news.

The droning voice of a reporter reaches your ears for the first time as you tune in, “...the details are coming to us live tonight from the scene as the story develops.”

She pauses in dramatic reporter fashion, giving you time to take a seat before she continues. Your eyes are riveted to the screen.

“Earlier tonight, a young woman was slain in the outskirts of Hawkins, Indiana, along a rarely used walking trail through the woods. Officials are offering no comment at this time, but wish to assure the community that they have several persons of interest. They also advise residents to use caution when walking alone along the trails. If anyone has any information, please call…”

You tune back out as they flash a picture across the screen. The noise just dissipates as your brain tries to process the information flashing before you.

That’s Chrissy Cunningham. Chrissy, your team captain, and close friend.

Chrissy is dead.

Then, another picture splashes onto the screen, with the caption beneath it reading: “Person of Interest”. It fades as another is posted after, then another, but your vision blurs long before you can make out who they are. Your head is spinning far too much for that now.

That was Eddie’s picture. But Eddie couldn’t have done this. He couldn’t have. Could he?

What… the fuck?

–

tagging some friends: @cockslutpadalecki @sweeterthanthis @borikenlove @jobean12-blog @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @sexyspector @purpleshallot @suchababie @bitchassbucky @buckybarnesthots @lavendercitizen @doasyoudesireandlive @buckybarneschokeme @vibraniumcollar @sunshinebuckybarnes @bonky-n-steeb @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @bioniclee @phantomkat813 @eddieomunson @cryptidcryin @thewritingdoll @moonbeamdean @lookiamtrying @midnightf

[abi-endings]

Cherry Blossom Colored Kisses

prompt: when Eddie confesses he wants to ask Chrissy Cunningham to prom, you start coughing out flower petals.

pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

show: stranger things

note: besties, be proud of me! i wrote this in second person!! so this is a "you did X Y Z" narration, instead of "I did X Y Z" narration. is it stupid to be proud? probably a little - but i'm feeling good about this. maybe i'll even graduate to using "y/n" next.

second note: i've reedited!! thank you to everyone for pointing out when my wonky brain goes wonky and reverts back to first person. i think i fixed everything, but if you notice first person from now on...let's just live with it 😅

third note: given ages aren't confirmed in the show, let's establish that Chrissy is 17-18 years old, and Eddie's 19. reader's 18.

word count: 8.8k [got a bit carried away]

warnings: Hanahaki Disease ([Japanese folklore] fictional disease where the victim coughs up flower petals when suffering from one-sided love), cursing, angst, seemingly unrequited love, but things work out! ✅ no spoilers 🔪 please note there are a thousand ways to write Hanahaki Disease, and this is just my variation. yes, i did research, and yes, i tired my best.

Like every other Friday night, you hitched a ride back to his trailer with Eddie as you had nowhere else to be. Well, probably wasn't true as you were a social butterfly with plenty of prospective friends to hang out with, but your favorite place on any given day was always with Eddie.

He was home, he was safety, he was warmth, he was what you needed after either a really bad, or even a really good day.

Eddie had this superpower where he could either turn your bad mood around or he could increase your happiness tenfold. He was next to never upset or angry or frustrated, he was content to vibe in a constant state of "chill".

Your feelings for him might've started around your sophomore year, when he decked Jason Carver in the jaw for making you uncomfortable. Even to this day - it was one of the only times you've seen him angry, and the fact that it was because Jason was flirting with you made your heart lift. It spurred the hate between the two boys, but only solidified your everlasting friendship with Eddie. Yet, you buried these feelings out of fear of rejection, and change - you didn't want things to change.

You liked things where they were.

But it was getting harder to pretend you didn't like your best friend. As if everything he did didn't make you feel silly, stupid, and giddy all at once.

As if those wide, brown, doe eyes didn't make you melt, yet simultaneously make you feel stronger than before. A single look from him could give you enough confidence for a week.

As if his antics, pet names, hand holds, late night cuddle sessions when you were feeling lonely didn't put your stomach in knots but send you heart up to the sky, like if was filled with helium.

However, you were content because you never wanted to lose him. So, you'd suffer through whatever this was if it meant he stayed close. Despite the heaviness in your chest, you continued to pretend nothing was wrong because if Eddie picked up on it, he would surely hound you until you confessed - something you couldn't handle.

So, you curled up beside him in his (stained) bed with your head leaning on his shoulder as his hands distracted themselves by fiddling with the strings on his acoustic guitar while you nursed the joint between your lips. You were content to simply exist with him; be in his presence and listen to his musical talents. Occasionally, your hand would raise the joint to his lips, allowing him to take his own hit and for the peacefulness to prolong.

Things were good - like they've been for the past few years of being "best friends". I mean, yeah, you knew Eddie before the "Jason incident", but you were just a Freshman that only knew the town's Freak from a distance. You had two classes together. Often saw him at lunch. Sometimes gave him notes if he missed class. And ever since that day that he protected you from Jason's creepy moves, you've been thicker than thieves.

Things were quiet in his room outside of the occasional crackling of the joint's end, and his lazy strumming; things were peaceful; things were good.

Until Eddie sighed and leaned back to the wall behind you both, interrupting the simple thoughts in your head.

"What's up?" You asked quietly, turning to ash the joint in the plastic tray on his bedside table. "Huffin' pretty loud over there, pretty boy, I can practically hear you overthinking."

"It's stupid," he chuckled, focusing on the strings beneath his fingertips again. "Don't even think about it."

"I doubt it's nothing," you countered. "C'mon, you tell me any and everything."

"I, uh... I don't know how to tell you this thing, though..."

Now you were curious, "You kill someone?"

"What? No! God!"

"Gotta hide a body?"

"Not this weekend."

Nodding, you asked, "You fuck my mom?"

"Not yet, but can't say it's not on my to-do list," he teased lightly.

"Then I don't know what scenario there could be that you're too scared to tell me," you chuckled, smoking wafting in the thin air between you both, lingering from the lack of circulation. "C'mon, cutie, what's up with you? You don't usually hold back."

He sighed, the strings plucking harshly as he his head flopped back now. "It's just... Have you given any thought to prom?"

"Prom?" You repeated with a small laugh. "Not entirely, I don't know. Why? Thinking of crashing it?"

But he was silent, which made you a little nervous. You sat up and turned to face him head-on, your criss-crossed legs resulting in one knee pressing to his thigh. He looked like he wanted to say something, but a subtle shake from his head assured you that he changed his mind.

"Are you going?" he asked softly instead.

"Um, nobody's asked so I don't know. I'd like to, maybe," you tried to joke. "Why? You offering?"

He chuckled lowly, "Uh, well, I would be, if..."

"If?"

He gulped, "You know Chrissy?"

Of course you knew Chrissy Cunningham, who didn't? You didn't live under a rock, for God's sake. She was the designated 'it girl' of Hawkins, the 'queen' as people dubbed her - a sweet girl who was captain of the cheer squad that had an impeccable smile. Adorable strawberry blonde hair. A petite body, sweet voice, and of course, she'd been Eddie's crush since middle school. Yeah, you knew Chrissy Cunningham.

"Yeah," you breathed, nodding slowly. "What about her?"

"Well, I uh... I was thinking of asking her to prom. You know, before we graduate and get the fuck out of this town... Thought maybe I'd try my hand, you know? See if... See if something could finally happen."

You swear your ears started ringing because no way you heard him correctly, right? No way he was telling you he was going to ask Chrissy Cunningham to prom - no way. There wasn't any way. After all, the plan since about a year ago was that you would go together pending no other offers. No way the guy you've been in-love with for fucking YEARS was telling you he wanted to ask someone else.

And Eddie didn't know, but about 8 different guys had already asked you but you didn't want to go with them. You wanted Eddie to ask you - you wanted to spend a night of teenage normalcy with your best friend, and maybe get the chance to confess your feelings for him on the dance floor. Maybe you'd dress to match. Maybe he'd even get you a corsage - but Eddie wasn't the type.

So, why was he thinking about asking Chrissy? High school thriving Chrissy? Who would definitely want the stereotypical high school experience? Like - prom with a pretty dress, lots of laughter, her date giving her a corsage as her mom snapped pictures.

She would want all that, right? Would Eddie be the right date to give it to her?

You were honestly shocked he wanted to even go due to the idea that anything socially conforming was out of bounds for him. And when you made that pact, it was mostly out of a joke but you had hoped this whole time he was being serious. And he was being serious about prom, but not with you...

"Sweetheart?" Eddie asked softly, his brows now furrowed in concentration. "You okay? You look a little shaky."

Instantly, you nodded. "Yeah, totally, just, um... Just remembered I have this huge essay due Monday, yeah, uh-huh, yep. I should probably get started on it." Eddie's brows now fully crinkled as you jerked your leg away from his when his hand moved to lay on it, turning and instantly finding your belongings scattered around the floor of his bedroom. "Um, yeah, so, as for prom and Chrissy - I think it's cute. You should ask her, she'd be stupid to say no."

Eddie watched you tug your shoes on in haste, sitting up, "Hey, slow down, speed racer, I'll drive you - "

"No, it's cool," you assured swiftly, tugging your jacket on to combat the chill of the spring night. "I need the exercise."

Eddie scoffed, "I'm not letting you walk."

"I don't want a ride, Eddie," your voice took on an uncharacteristic hardened tick, something you've never had to use with Eddie. But you couldn't help it, your chest was caving in and lungs burning the longer you stayed there. "I just wanna walk for a bit, clear my head before homework, okay?"

He nodded slowly, "You sure, doll?"

"Positive."

Eddie frowned when your bag was tugged up your shoulder, turning from his room and jumping when he called, "Wait!"

Praying to God he was going to tell you he changed his mind and he wanted to ask you to prom - not Chrissy - you turned to look back to him. But he only pouted, "Don't leave without sayin' goodbye, sweetheart, c'mere."

Fearing the wet sensation coating your throat, you just backed up to the door and blindly reached for the doorknob, "You'll see me later, Eds. I've gotta go."

"Call me when you get home?" He asked, standing from his bed when you pulled his bedroom door open and moved out into the hall of his trailer. "Hey, hey, honey, what's the rush?" Eddie called, jogging a couple steps to follow after you.

"Just gotta go, Eds," you couldn't face him. But something tickled your throat and nose, prompting you to ask, "Um, do you have any tissues?"

He nodded, watching you pause by the front door before turning for the bathroom. A moment later, he returned with a box and handed it over, "Take it. I'm sure your allergies are acting up."

You nodded, "Thanks."

"Wait - "

But you were out the door and surging down the steps of his 'porch', turning on the gravel and making for the main road. Eddie watched you go from his front door, worrying over whatever he'd said, but after wracking his mind, he couldn't understand. He didn't need to know your chest was so painful, you debated if you were having a heart attack at 18; making you desperate to get away from him if it meant the pain would lessen.

You cried the whole walk home. The 8-minute car ride was actually a 41 minute walk due to the tightness in your chest, the tissue box tight in your hand as your lungs started to itch, burn, constrict themselves.

The coughing started that night. The entire walk, you used tissue after tissue to cough into and would ignore the flecks of color present against the soft white, shoving them down into your bag.

When you arrived home, the house was, as usual, empty. Steve Harrington used to hang out a lot with you due to how often both of your parents are out of town but once he started dating Nancy Wheeler, all visits stopped. Granted they were broken up now, he still didn't come back, and you were forced to get used to the loneliness. It left room for Eddie to slide into his place, often coming over to keep you company as being home alone for so long often made you nervous.

Eddie hated you feeling nervous, so, he had a couple of shirts and pants at your house for him to change into when he stayed the night. Now that he was going to make a move on Chrissy Cunningham, it made you think there wouldn't ever be other sleepovers. You worried he would never come back to your home, and an ice pick was conjured to stab through my heart.

In your room, you tossed your bag to your bed and groaned when it bounced off and spilled the contents over the floor. Shaking your head, you coughed a couple more times and got ready for bed; but soon, the coughing turned violent.

Kneeling over, your throat burned with crushing pain as your chest felt too tight with pressing tension. The heaviness was back, sitting right on your sternum and causing a twisting discomfort when you hurled into the toilet bowl. However, when your watery eyes opened, they were staring straight into clear water that was peppered with tiny little florals with swirls of bright red blood.

Panting in shock, confusion inked into your mind as you stood shakily to your feet and rushed for your bag again, pushing through the belongings to find the used tissues. Panic swelled in your chest when the tissues found, too, were coated in petals and blood.

"What?" you whispered to yourself, fear taking over. However, instead of doing the rational thing, like go to the hospital, you just threw the tissues away, flushed the rest, and curled up in bed out of exhaustion and draining adrenaline. Sobs wracked your lungs, making your body convulse and for the coughing to get worse.

You didn't move all weekend. You couldn't, for the pain was too great in your heart, mind, and body. Even when the phone rang multiple times through those two days, you couldn't care enough to get out of bed and answer it to see whatever was wanted from you. When the next Monday came around, you forced yourself to get in the shower and wake up from the cold water; getting dressed and heading out the front door to spy Eddie's van at the base of your driveway.

You sighed and made sure there were extra tissues in your bag as you made for his passenger door. When you hopped in, you were greeted with a glare.

"How was the essay?" he grits.

"Fine," you sighed, knowing it was a lie to make your swift escape, and leaned your arm on the door to prop your head up and stare out the window.

"Mhm. Thanks for letting me know you got home safe," he snipped. "Not like I was driving around at 1 am to make sure you weren't dead in a ditch somewhere."

You nodded slowly, "I forgot, I-I'm sorry."

"You forgot?" he repeated before scoffing. But when he glanced over and noted the heavy bags under your distant (watery) eyes, he frowned, "Hey? Y-You okay?"

"Mhm."

"Your nose is bleeding."

"Shit," you hissed, reaching for a tissue, and trying to mop up the blood from under both nostrils. "It's nothing," you tried to explain, sniffling a few times, and noting how sharp the action made your chest. Like something was stabbing through you, perhaps that ice pick again.

He shook his head, leering, "Suuuuure, mhm, okay." But when you didn't respond for another 3 minutes, he was annoyingly asking, "The hell's up with you?"

"Nothing, Eddie."

"Bullshit! You haven't looked at me once, didn't even greet me when you got in, and now you're sitting there, silent as the grave."

You only shrugged, not knowing how to put it in words, "Just tired, Eddie."

"Bullshit," he sighed. "But fine, if you don't want to talk, that's whatever. Just continue ignoring me, I guess."

Your eyes shut as you sighed, whispering, "I'm sorry."

"Why? What'd you do?"

Only shrugging, your head shook, and you sat up when you two made it to school. The moment the car stopped - not even in park - you were opening the passenger door and hopping out to take desperate gulps of fresh air. You waited a moment as Eddie got out, too, and just as his arm lifted to wrap around your shoulders to lead you into school, his attention was caught by someone else.

"Oh, there's Chrissy," he smiled, seeing the pretty cheerleader at her car. "Should I do it now?"

Gulping, you shrugged, "Do whatever makes you happy, Eds."

Eddie didn't understand what he did wrong to deserve your cold shoulder but figured he could talk to you later before making a beeline for Chrissy while you made for the front of the school. You ignored peers around you as you stuffed books and such into your locker, wheezing into a tissue when coughing took over.

A few other students paused to look at you with concern; you hand slamming to a closed locker as you couldn't draw breath in. The pain was suffocating, and the coughing made you nearly double over.

Robin paused at the sight, making her way over to you and just before she could ask if you were okay, she was gasping lightly. Looking up, you saw what caught her attention to spy Eddie Munson entering school with Chrissy Cunningham daintily hanging off his arm. Jason's glare was most prominent, but your best friend’s was much, much fiercer, and you? You had to look away because the ice pick was now hacking at your heart; palpitations making your chest throb with white-hot tension.

"Oh, no," Robin paused, glancing at you to see tears already in your eyes as your hands shook. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry - "

"Why?" You sniffled, shaking your head. "Doesn't matter, they look happy, right?"

"You don't," she whispered.

"Doesn't matter," you repeated. "I'll see you later, Rob."

She frowned as you charged away, watching you go as Eddie and Chrissy came to a halt beside her. "She say what was wrong with her?" Eddie asked the girl softly.

"No," Robin grit her teeth, offering him a stale up and down look. Though, she was slightly impressed Eddie bagged the popular cheerleader, she knew of your feelings for the metalhead, and huffed through her nose before taking off down the hall after you.

"Is everyone mad at me now?" He asked, looking down to the girl he'd successfully asked to prom.

"I'm not," Chrissy chirped with a soft smile.

So, here's the whole thing. Even though you've denied it for years, your friends knew DAMN well how in-love with Eddie you were. Robin had been the only one to really pick up on it a few years ago but kept quiet because of how close you and Eddie were. However, when you sat down for lunch, the Hellfire Club were ready to ask what was wrong when they saw their Dungeon Master enter the cafeteria with Chrissy.

They offered you looks of pity, understanding your behavior now.

Your hands started to shake, and you coughed harshly, bending at the waist to cough into a tissue half under the table. From beside you, Dustin caught a glimpse of pink and red in the tissue as your hand fisted over it and sniffled hotly. "Are you okay?" Gareth asked in concern, his wide eyes looking ready to shed tears. "You're sweating."

"Yeah," you whispered, catching sight of Eddie and Chrissy heading for your table. "Um, I-I forgot I have a test to make up in Spanish, so, I'll see you guys later, okay?" You rushed, picking up your untouched tray of food and shouldered your bag.

Before any of them could protest, you were tossing the tray and racing out of the opposite doors Chrissy and Eddie had come in through. You vaguely heard Eddie calling your name, never turning around, and shoving out of the doors.

You gasped when the fresh air hit you, not caring that you lied about some test and now headed down for the field. You didn't care if someone picked up on your lie. You didn't care about anything other than the crushing feeling in your chest; the way your lungs felt deflated, and how your throat was consistently wet from blood.

Robin had seen your abrupt departure and left Nancy Wheeler's side to follow you. When she found you under the bleachers, coughing and throwing up with tears down your cheeks, she knew something was wrong. Robin crawled under the bleachers, not caring about the trash or debris left, to reach your side and hold your hair back.

"Oh, my God," she wobbled, catching sight of the puddle under you. "W-What the hell is that?"

You panted, a string of blood hanging from your lips before falling to the saliva beneath you. "I-I think... I think something's wrong, Robin."

"No shit!" She hissed. "Let me take you to the nurse - "

"No, it's fine," you insisted, using another tissue to wipe at the blood under your nose. "I uh... I think I know what's going on."

"What?"

"We'll need to go to the library first," you nodded before shaking your head. "No, never mind, y-you should go back to class."

"Nope," she insisted. "I'll go to the library with you. Want me to call Steve? Get us a ride?"

You sniffled and nodded, tugging your bent knees into your chest as she nodded and begged you to stay put before dashing for the outside payphone. She felt anger as her eyes cast through the glass windows of the cafeteria, catching sight of Chrissy and Eddie laughing away with the rest of the Hellfire Club. Her fingers roughly punched in Steve's number and insisted he come pick you and her up. "Right fucking now, dingus!"

About 9 minutes later, Eddie had glanced out of the windows and caught the distance sight of Robin holding you in her arms and walking you (slowly) to Steve Harrington's trademark BMW.

His brows furrowed in confusion and concern before Chrissy's sweet voice was distracting him. In fact, he might've let himself get swept up in the sweetness of Chrissy - that he forgot you. The girl he's wanted since middle school was finally in his grasp but in order to do that, he had to let you go - resulting in cherry blossoms to sprout in your lungs.

The moment he made up his mind about Chrissy was the moment your fate was sealed. And after a trip to the library with Steve and Robin, you had your answer as to what was going on. It didn't make sense, but you understood there were three options for you at this point.

Option One: die. Literally, that was it. Let this disease kill you. Okay, then Option Two: get Eddie to love you back... And that was seemingly farfetched and way out of asking range. Third Option was to undergo a surgery, but according to literature, choosing this surgery would save your life but erase Eddie Munson from your memory. It was the only way to stop the pain besides dying from it or make someone to fall in love with you.

But that wasn't real love, was it?

So, you checked the book out and Steve drove you home.

You thought you could handle things, after all, the book said it could be manageable. So, you soldiered on and played everything off the next Monday as if you had some head cold making you a bit off, and not literal florals blooming in your fucking lungs.

Eddie didn't question it because he was too excited to tell you that Chrissy had said yes. She said yes - to him! To prom! And she was going to wear red, his favorite color. He was so shocked, it made you want to weep a little because Eddie Munson seemed to be the only one (minus Jason Carver) to not understand how amazing Eddie Munson truly was...

Well, maybe the rest of the school body didn't understand either, but that was beside the point. Eddie was always too hard on himself and hearing how shocked and happy he was that Chrissy said yes, just made you honestly sad. He didn't even know how loved he was, making the self-deprivation very real. It was once upon time ago that your job was to help him out of those ruts, but now it would be Chrissy's responsibility.

You knew if he was yours, you wouldn't let a single day go by where he thought he was inadequate. But he wasn't yours, and now that he had Chrissy, you knew he never would be.

Your throat swelled and more petals were coughed into a tissue in your hand when you realized that you'd bought a prom dress (in case Eddie did ask you) about a month ago, and it, too, was red. Yet, he was going to match Chrissy and you'd wasted $150 on a pretty, silk dress... And new heels because your mother insisted you feel (and look) like a princess.

You tried to be excited and happy for him, but it was hard to when Eddie was enraptured with Chrissy. You coughed more in that week than when you had that terrible flu 2 years ago.

When that Friday rolled around, you were heading for his van (like usual), only to find him and Chrissy waiting on you.

"Hey," you greeted cautiously, smiling at the pretty girl you never really had a full conversation with.

"Hey," Eddie smiled - and you noted the lack of pet name. "Uh, you ready to go?"

"Um, yeah," you cleared your throat, glancing at Chrissy again.

He understood your nonverbal question. "I'm thinking I'll drop you off at home first. Cool?" Eddie offered, looking at you as his arm snaked around Chris' waist.

Confusion warped into your voice, "Um, i-it's Friday?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"I-I thought we hung out on Fridays? Like, every Friday?"

Eddie's other hand rose to rub the back of his neck, "Well, yeah, usually, but I'm taking Chrissy out on a date, so, I'll have to drop you off first."

"Oh," your eyes widened, and you felt so fucking stupid in that moment. "Shit, okay, my bad," you backed away, "I can get another ride, it's no big deal. Have fun on your date!"

"Hey, no, don't be ridiculous," Eddie shook his head, taking a tentative step forward as if he was nervous to leave Chrissy's side and approach you. "I take you home every day, c'mon. It's nothing, get in the van. I always take you home."

But you felt sick over the petty idea of sitting in the back while Chrissy took your seat in Eddie's car... Your place in Eddie's life.

Your head shook and a half-smile was forced over your lips. "No, it's seriously okay. You guys should go, it's cool. Have fun, okay?"

Eddie frowned, "I'll call you later tonight, okay?"

"Sure," you whispered, turning finally, and hustling your steps back for the school. Your hand balled in a fist to catch the splatter of blood and petals that shot out of your mouth, trying to shake the sick off so nobody would notice.

Light pink petals danced to the pavement behind you, and your heart plummeted with it as Eddie's van tires squealed when he peeled out of the carpark.

Robin was still at school and agreed to give you a ride home with Steve and Dustin Henderson; the two sharing looks of concern for you the entire drive. They kept asking if they could do anything, but the truth was, they could see the life slowly draining from you, and knew they couldn't do anything.

You didn't answer Eddie's call that night. You didn't let him drive you to school, either, since he'd been busy with Chris that all your conversations now revolved around the girl. This didn't mean he didn't come pick you up, but you usually always opted for the bus to "catch up on reading." You didn't hang out on Fridays either, because it was "date night with Chrissy", and you didn't sit at the Hellfire Club table at lunch.

It went on like this for another three weeks. Eddie replaced you with Chrissy, and she was everywhere you looked. You stopped going to lunch all together in an effort to save yourself from the sight of Eddie's arm around the pretty, popular cheerleader; instead, coughing out cherry blossoms under the bleachers and then forcing a smile on your lips like nothing happened.

The time you did spend together (a minuscule amount of time in comparison), Eddie would fill the space between you with chatter about how amazing Chrissy was - unaware of the pain he was causing you.

Unaware that every word strangled air and rational thought from you.

Unaware that you often held your breath to save you from the pain; to save you from bursting into tears; to save you from yelling at your best friend that you didn't care he finally bagged his crush.

Eddie was going mad, however. He didn't understand your distance, but he also didn't do anything to rectify the situation. He just figured you were going through something, and you'd show up at his trailer soon; tears down your cheeks as his arms open to welcome you.

He started to count the day since he last touched you. Eddie began to feel as if maybe he'd done the right thing by choosing Chrissy due to how far you pulled away from him. He's loved you for years but never admitted or confronted the feelings; so, he convinced himself to let you go in pursuit of Chrissy. So, to save himself from rejection of the most important person in his life, he thought it was a "safer rejection" by asking Chrissy.

He was just shocked she accepted, though he had a sneaking suspicion it was just to piss Jason off. Eddie didn't mind being her distraction because Chrissy was his distraction from you.

When the week of prom rolled around, you couldn't get out of bed because you were in excruciating pain in your heart and mind. Your mother had left on another business trip and only left a stack of cash for "emergencies", telling you she loved you, and never noticing your overflowing waste bin of bloody tissues. So, when Eddie rolled up that Monday, he was confused when you didn't come outside for a few minutes. He beeped, waited longer, beeped again - louder - before confusion troubled his heart.

He knew you were upset and distant, he knew you "liked" riding the bus now; but he also knew you weren't out of your house, yet. He planned on showing up earlier than the time you left, because he wanted to ensure you drove to school together - like usual.

Eddie got out of his van and approached your door, knocking repeatedly but never receiving an answer.

When he got to school, Chrissy told him to call your house and check on you - standing with him, as all he did was listen to the dial tone of a connecting call. You never answered.

At lunch, Eddie found Robin and asked her if she spoke to you at all this past weekend. She glared, "What? You didn't?"

"No," Eddie admitted, "I-I was with Chrissy the whole - "

Robin's eyes rolled and she stood abruptly, making Eddie take a step back. "Forgive me while I go vomit," Robin deadpanned, casting a single glare over his shoulder to the strawberry blonde before pushing past them both.

Eddie asked Hellfire what he'd done - but none of them had an answer. "She's not been looking well," Dustin mentioned. "Keeps coughing out blood."

"What?" Eddie asked, rigid with fear.

Dustin nodded slowly, "I don't think she knows I know, but Steve gave her a ride with us, and her tissues are all bloody."

"She's coughing out blood?" Gareth asked sadly, Dustin nodding. "That's not good, we should get her to a hospital."

"She won't go," Dustin frowned. "I heard Robin trying to convince her, but she keeps saying she's fine."

"She's not fine," Eddie growled.

"Obviously," Lucas rolled his eyes. "She's also not sat with us for weeks."

"She's been avoiding everyone," Jeff added sadly.

"Wonder why," Lucas sneered, casting a glare at his Dungeon Master.

"Am I supposed to know what you're insinuating, Sinclair?" Eddie snipped.

"Aren't you her best friend? Shouldn't you know that she's sick - instead of hearing it from Dustin?"

Eddie shrugged, "So, what? I haven't been able to track her every move. I've been busy - "

"With Chrissy," Dustin and Lucas chimed together; Lucas rolling his eyes before stabbing a green bean forcefully.

"We know," the Freshman 'all-star' basketball player rolled his eyes, pushing his tray away and glaring to the tabletop.

"What did I do?" Eddie asked, looking to his comrades with earnest confusion.

None of them answered because nobody knew what was really wrong. All your friends (including outside of Hellfire) felt concern fester because you were never forthcoming with problems. You never asked for help - it was something observed by others before they're offering you a hand. So, if you were going through something, they knew you'd handle it alone until you couldn't anymore and would confide in them.

Eddie grew increasingly frustrated as time went. For you, time was slower than ever, and you were forced to live through each painful retch and convulsion of your muscles. You laid in bed; a bloody projectile pattern splattered across your sheets; dotted with sticky, pretty petals.

The night of prom rolled around, and you were knelt in front of your toilet again. It had gotten worse; Dustin phoning you every day to update you on school, and unconsciously complaining about how much time Eddie and Chrissy were spending - causing a riff in the group. You tried to assure the Freshman that it was a new and exciting relationship for them both, but Dustin voiced his concerns after spying Chrissy speaking with her ex, Jason Carver.

The vomiting got worse after Dusty's phone call. Acid burned your nose and your throat wept for relief; finding only more pain as the toilet bowl before you decorated with not just your blood, but actual buds of flowers. You knew naturally that cherry blossoms didn't have thorns, but there, before you, were floating pieces of your flesh that was cut from the sharp floral.

You sobbed the whole night. Your chest was ready to cave in and the vomiting, nor pain, wouldn't stop. You wondered if this was how it ended for you - alone, on prom night, coughing out blood while the rest of the town got their romantic night.

Fuckers, you thought bitterly.

But then - the weirdest fucking thing happened. Amid vomiting more buds and thorns, your chest started to feel a little clearer and you could cough the rattling wetness from your lungs. There was just slight relief, but enough for you to draw in harsh breaths. You panted and spat out another bloom, trying to ignore how oddly poetically beautiful this was - to die by a fucking flower strangling you. Your body was thinner in the weeks since your turmoil started, throat too raw to pass any food as your lungs were stuffed with petals. It made living harder.

It made getting out of bed physically impossible.

It made your feet numb.

Your chest to ache.

Your head to throb.

And your stomach to knot itself.

Sweat pooled over your brow and your hand rose to wipe at your nose, smearing blood over your cheek. More vomiting. More pain. More petals and blooms and thorns and blood.

It felt like it'd never end but that was the most justice you had - that this would kill you because you couldn't let go of the love you had for Edward Munson. Love that would last a lifetime - or until it killed you.

Seemed like a fate closer than graduation.

You were startled when knuckles began rapping on your window as another violent purge overtook you. Shaking and sobbing, you ignored whoever had climbed up to your window because you were so focused on keeping your hair back as you purged.

The rapping turned into full-on pounding; the glass pane shaking.

The blossoms were bigger now. Thicker. Small, wee little stems on them that only added to your pain. Petals were left behind on your tongue and sticking to your cheeks; throat bleeding into your stomach from the way thorns shredded it up and down.

"Hey, hey, hey, sweetheart," you recognized Eddie's voice over the sounds of your retching. "Oh, my God, my sweet girl. Shit, you're okay, you're okay, I got you," he assured quietly, taking your hair in his hands to hold back as another wave racked through your body. "You're okay, let it out," he soothed, sitting on the lip of the bathtub, and rubbing your back.

You sniffled and spat the remaining petals from your mouth, using your arms to cover the toilet bowl and block his sight. "W-What're you doing here?" You asked through a thick tongue.

"Your window was open, I let myself in." He reached out for the toilet paper and pulled a bit off, gingerly reaching up and wiping the blood from your lips. "A-Are those petals?" He asked in shock, looking at the toilet tissue.

"Why're you here, Eddie?" You asked again, turning to close the toilet lid and rest your head on it. The cool porcelain felt nice on your feverish skin.

"Where else would I want to be?"

You scoffed, "Just fuck off back to Chrissy, I know that's where you want to be."

It was quiet as sweat dried on your skin and created a new cooling sensation across your tired muscles. "Why're you throwing up blood and petals?"

"Why are you here?" You snapped, lifting your head to glare at him. "If I wanted you around, I would've called."

"Haven't called me in weeks."

"Then maybe I don't want you around. Just go - get out," you grit, turning away from him again. "This is hard enough without you fucking here. Get out."

It was quiet as Eddie didn't move, your chest rattling with every labored breath to make it sound like a wheeze. It caused a new wave of violent coughing, Eddie's eyes widening when you appeared to choke on something in your throat, toilet lid lifted as your fingers crammed in the back of your throat.

From this position, Eddie could make out the blood and blooms floating in the water, flinching when you threw up blood - a sight he'd never wanted to see again. Thorns cut your mouth and lips, making you whimper in sheer pain as your chest was ready to cave in finally. Sweat coated your skin again, and Eddie refused to leave your side. He watched you as your body shook with each retch; how the color of blood stained your lips like expensive make-up.

When you panted and threw yourself back to the wall behind you, Eddie reached out and started to wipe blood from your nose, mouth, chin, and cheeks.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.

"Tell you what?" You wheezed.

"That you were sick."

You scoffed, "Would it have mattered? You're too busy with Chrissy."

He shook his head, "We broke up."

Now this - this shocked you. Your brows furrowed, "It's prom night."

"Mhm."

"All you wanted was to go to that stupid fucking dance with her," you pointed out with a glare.

Eddie nodded, "I thought so, too. Until we got there, and I realized that I was with the wrong girl... I thought I wanted to be with her, she was unobtainable and has been my crush for years..."

"Guessing the real thing didn't compare with your imagination?" You sneered, rolling your eyes. "Big fucking deal, Eddie - "

"No, no, I uh... I just, we got there, and I wanted it to be you."

Something in your chest twisted.

"That's not funny," your eyes rolled again.

"I'm not joking. I wanted to be with you all night - hell, every day of the past few weeks that you've been avoiding me, I just wanted to be with you. Why did you pull away from me? Was it that shitty to see me and Chris together?"

You admitted, "Yes."

"What?"

You chuckled dryly, "It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

And there it was... "Yeah," You whispered, "love me like a best friend, right - " Only, the words were gargled as you leaned forward and puked violently.

"No, sweetheart," Eddie frowned, holding your hair again. "Shit, this isn't good, baby, we need to get you to a hospital."

"No," You groaned into the bowl.

"Please," he begged, other hand coming to soothe up and down your back. "You're in pain, and - "

"It doesn't matter, Eddie," you coughed again, sticking your tongue out to pick a few petals off. They fell to the water, a sightly morbidly beautiful image as thick blood swirled.

"It does matter! To me, it does!"

"Why!?"

"Because - Jesus Christ!" He raged, anger finally morphing over his expression. "I'm in love with you, God damn it!"

Your brows furrowed, bottom lip trembling, "W-What?"

He shook his head, "You really don't know?"

"Know WHAT?" You felt anger swell in your stomach. "That I've spent the past however many years thinking I was only good enough to be your friend, and now you're telling me you're in love with me? What? Did Chrissy stand you up? You need a rebound?"

He sighed, nudging you over an inch to slide down the wall into the space between you and the bathtub. You both stared forward, a light splattering of blood across the pale porcelain you stared at.

"I was the one who left her," he admitted with a sigh. "I just... We got to the first dance, and I just hated myself, because all I wanted - for the last few weeks, too - has been to have you in my arms, again. I've missed you more than anything."

You shook your head, "You've wanted Chrissy - "

"She was a want, doll," he whispered. "But I realized tonight that you're a need. I need you in my life, baby, please believe me. Look, I-I got caught up in the excitement of dating Chrissy, but she knew my heart wasn't 100% in it, and told me it was okay."

"Ch-Chrissy told you to leave?"

"She told me to run to you and not let go when I had you in my arms," he nodded, looking down at me now. "She knew the whole time... I couldn't stand being away from you, not talking to you, so she offered to help distract me until I bucked up the nerve."

"Nerve to what?"

"Ask you to be mine," he smiled softly. "Look, I know, I've had this thing for Chris, and when I finally had her, I just didn't know what to do. But she knew the whole time, and insisted I come find you."

"Oh," you breathed, chest tight for a new reason.

"And I realized I was at prom with the wrong woman," he nodded, gingerly reaching his hand out to stroke over mine. I sniffled and turned my hand over to lace our fingers together, leaning into his shoulder. "Not seeing you there, I felt worse than ever before. I couldn't admit I was in love with you - I was scared we'd lose this. Our friendship, we'd lose the comfort and protection."

Tears swelled in your eyes as you squeezed them shut; a few tears rolling sadly down your cheeks. "You don't mean that..."

"How can you say that?" He asked incredulously.

"Because you just feel bad," you whimpered. "It's okay, Eddie. I'm okay - you don't have to do this. It doesn't matter - "

"Anything regarding you, to me, definitely matters. Why're you so against this - against us?"

"Because it's not real," you sniffled. "You've been in love with - "

"Please, please, go ask Chrissy yourself," Eddie begged, shaking his head. "She'll tell you - go ask Dustin, Garth, Jeff - anyone, baby. Please. I'm in love with you, and I need you to believe it."

"Why now?"

"Why what?"

"Why tell me now?"

He chuckled, "Because I hoped there was enough time to get here and take the girl of my dreams to prom."

"You don't even like prom. Or any social gathering, for that matter."

He chuckled, "Yeah, very true, but you're everything to me and I know you wanted to go. Remember last year?" You sighed, soft smile stretching across your face. "You were so excited that I made you that pact that if neither of us had a date, we'd go together." You nodded against his shoulder. "And I just thought... I thought other guys wanted to take you, and you'd want to go with them more sine they could give you the full 'prom experience'. So, I panicked and focused on Chrissy..."

You sighed, "I wish you told me the truth... And that you'd have just asked me properly."

"I regret nothing more," he sighed. "Because it made you feel left out and neglected."

You nodded, "Eddie?"

"Yeah, peaches?"

The old nickname from 10th grade made heat pool in your chest, cheeks, and ears; feeling flustered as you whispered, "I'm in love with you, too."

"Yeah?" He chuckled.

"Mhm."

He sighed, "Oh, thank God."

You couldn't help but chuckle lightly, "What?"

He looked down at you with a grin, "Been waiting years to hear that."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Since I decked Carver in the face, yeah," he breathed. "Just wanted to pull you into my arms and tell you how much I loved you."

"Maybe if you did, we could've had more time together."

"We have all the time in the world now, baby," he beamed. "'Cause I'm not letting you go - hear me? You're mine, and I'm not letting go."

You smiled and leaned up so you could rest your forehead on his, "I don't want you to let go."

"I'll hold on forever, baby," he whispered. "But I have something important to ask you..."

"Hmm?"

"Think you're feeling up for a dance with me?"

You chuckled and nodded, "Uh, maybe one. Do we have to go to the school?"

"Nope, not if you don't want to."

You paused for a moment, asking shyly, "Eddie?"

"Yeah, peaches?"

"Would you go to prom with me?"

Eddie chuckled, "You're throwing up blood, baby, I think I should take you to the hospital instead. C'mon, instead of a prom dress, I'll dance with you in a hospital gown."

You couldn't help but giggle under your breath. "Come with me, I need to show you something," you sighed after, reaching forward to flush the blood and petals before standing up. With his hand in yours, you lead him from the bathroom and to your room, sitting on the bed and placing a book in his lap.

"What am I looking at?"

"Just... Read this page," you pointed to the paragraph you wanted him to read; taking the spot beside him and leaning to his shoulder again as he scanned the page quickly.

"Holy shit," he breathed at the end, looking up at you with tears in his eyes. "Doll, no, no, no. I-I did this to you?"

"I did it to myself," you whispered.

"B-But I've been in love with you, too? So, how did this happen?"

"Neither of us admitted it to ourselves. At least for me, it was until the night you told me you were thinking of asking Chrissy out."

"For me, it was until tonight," he realized with a whisper. "I-I told Chrissy I loved you, an-and it was the first time I admitted it..."

You nodded, "Yeah... So, uh... Yeah."

"Fuck," he shook his head. "I'm so sorry, I-I didn't know it hurt you this bad. Jesus Christ, sweetheart, you didn't deserve that. I'm so sorry."

"But it's over now, right?" you asked quietly.

"Yeah, baby, it's all over," he nodded, tossing the library book aside to turn and wrap you in his arms. He whined lightly and tugged so you were straddled in his lap, running a hand through your hair. "Oh, my sweet girl, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine the pain."

"You're here now," You whispered into his neck, fingers twirling a strand of his hair as your other hand clung to his neck. "That's all I care about."

"I'm never leaving you again," he swore, arms tight around my waist to drag me all the closer. "I'm so sorry, peaches, I-I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay," you promised, sniffling after. "I could've spoken up, too, but I was ashamed. I didn't want to ruin anything between you and Chrissy."

"Promise me, you'll tell me from now on. Okay? I don't care what's happening or where you and I stand - you fucking tell me if something's going on with you, okay?"

You nodded, sniffling lightly, "Yeah, okay, baby, deal."

"Hey," he cooed, pulling me from his neck. His hand reached up to caress the side of my cheek, "I love you, pretty girl."

The smile on your lips felt silly, but you replied, "I love you, too, baby."

"Can I kiss you? Please?" He pouted, making you chuckle lightly before reaching for his cheek and bringing him in to meet your lips. He groaned in relief, hands tightly over your ribs before sliding to your back as his tongue poked against your lips, sweeping into your mouth in a slick dance. You whined lightly, Eddie making a noise of surprise as he pulled back, a string of saliva trailing between your lips.

Your brows furrowed as he reached up and picked something from his tongue; a light pink cherry blossom petal stuck between his pointer and thumb. "Oh, my God," you wheezed, leaning forward to rest against his chest and push your face into his neck. "I'm so sorry."

He chuckled and let the petal flutter to the ground, "Kinda hot."

"Eddie," you whined.

"I'm sorry, baby," he chuckled, pecking the side of my head. "Are you feeling better?"

"Mhm, much better now, honestly. Having you here helps."

He pulled back to grin brightly at you, "Wanna go to prom then?"

You sighed lightly, gazing down at him in his suit and smiling lightly when you pressed over his red shirt. "Did you match Chrissy?"

He sighed, "She ended up choosing a green dress. Thought red was more my color," he smirked lightly. "But I can't lie, we looked like human Christmas."

You snorted in humor. "Red's definitely your color," you agreed, glancing back at your closet before back at him. "Um, wanna give me a few minutes? We can leave after?"

"Take as much time as you need, peaches," he nodded, leaning in with another smile to press his lips to your own. He chuckled a few times, pecking his lips rapidly before pulling away.

Within an hour, your hair was fixed off your neck; make-up minimal but still noticeable; and red dress shimmied up your body to then tie over your shoulders. Lacing your shoes on, you looked in the mirror before exiting your room and descending the stairs to find Eddie hunched over a counter, working in the kitchen on something.

You cleared your throat as your fingers fiddled together nervously when Eddie turned, and you swear time stopped. "Shit," he breathed, eyes weeping you up and down. "Oh, my... God."

"Yeah?" you asked, looking over the red material.

"Oh, hell yeah," he nodded, slowly approaching you. "You look beautiful, peaches, wow... Shit."

"You've said that," you teased. "Whatcha makin' over there?"

He smirked and picked up a flower from the counter, turning and taking your wrist. "My girl needs a corsage," he explained, showing off the flower he'd clipped from an old bouquet and then fashioned with a rubber band and safety pin. "There," he smiled when it was settled, "now you're ready for senior prom, huh?"

You nodded, hands placed to his chest as you smoothed out a few wrinkles, "You look unbelievably good right now."

He chuckled, "Look who's talkin'. Givin' Bo Derek a run for her money, aren't you? God damn."

You couldn't help the bright grin across your face, stepping into his embrace. "I love you," you whispered.

"I don't think I'll get tired to hearing that," he beamed, pecking your lips after. "I love you, too, baby - so much. And I'm so sorry it took me this long to admit it. You didn't deserve anything you suffered through..."

"It's done now," you nodded.

"And we're never going back," his hands rose to caress either of my cheeks. "Now - wanna go rock this prom?"

"Smoke up your van after?"

"You know it, princess," he grinned, pressing another kiss to your lips. "My lady," he smirked teasingly, offering his bent arm.

"My lord," you breathed, arm around his, and chest feeling lighter than it had in weeks months. Maybe things would be okay and they could work out, but for now, it was refreshing to live in the moment with Eddie. Your partner in crime. Your other half. Your best friend, and now your boyfriend. Someone you adored - and someone who adored you in full return.

Maybe love wasn't too bad after all - when it's not trying to suffocate you from the inside.

•

[abi-endings]

Afterglow

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Waking up by Eddie's side after your first time, who knew he could be any more loving?

wc: 716

warnings: mentions of smut

a/n: thank you for requesting anon! we could all use so fluff rn! Enjoy the blurb!!

You were met with the feeling of cold air on your bare back, trickling lower until the warmth of the blanket across your hips blocked its frozen path. The brightness of the sun made you clench your tired eyes, hands gathering the blanket and slowly turning on your side. A sudden sharp stab made you groan, memories flooding into your foggy mind. 

Crashing of teeth and pleading whispers of ‘are you sure?’ and ‘I love you so much’ echoed in your mind while the phantom handprints trail your naked skin below the blanket. Eddie came in to focus in your memories, his kind words and gentle touches before he entered you for the first time. “You feel so good, so fucking perfect for me,” you remembered him whispering in your ear while he held you close last night. “Y/N.” The voice was clearer this time around. “Y/N. Sweetheart?” 

His body felt real, a strong arm draped around you and pulled you to his exposed chest. Warm skin against warm skin. His soft lips pressed to your shoulder as he greeted you good morning, his raspy morning voice making you swoon. You smiled like a child and pressed your front teeth into your swollen bottom lip. 

“Did you sleep well?” he asked as his lips moved along your shoulder blade, placing little kisses until he ended up at the back of your neck. 

You let out a soft hum and slowly opened your eyes. “Best sleep I’ve had in forever,” you giggled. 

There was a small pause as the long-haired man’s hand drifted to your hip, the pads of his fingers ghosting over the small oval-shaped bruises. “Are you feeling ok?” He felt you nod in response. 

“Just a little sore,” you replied, “in a good way though.” 

“There’s some water and ibuprofen on the table if you need it,” he informed bashfully. 

Suddenly you turned to him with a bright smile, “Do you do this for all the girls?” you joked. 

Eddie blushed and parted his lips but words failed to come out. He must’ve looked like a total dork to you with his mouth gaping like a fish. “I-I uh, just wanted you to be comfortable. Jus’ trying to show you that I love you.” 

You pressed a chaste kiss to his pouting lips, laughing at his nervousness. “I feel very loved, Eddie—very, very loved by you.” Eddie grinned and pulled you closer, his chin resting on the top of your head while his fingers gently scratched your back. Gently scraping all the way down your spine and back up to create little goosebumps. 

“I had a good time last night, princess.” 

“I did too. ” 

God, you could get used to this. He was the most loving in the morning, you noted, which wasn’t a far cry from how Eddie normally was around you. You liked how effortlessly you could melt next to him and how perfectly you fit against him. “Are you hungry? Thirsty? Shower?” 

“Did you make breakfast?” you asked, slipping your knee in between his bare thighs just to be closer to him. Eddie shifted and kissed the top of your hair, briefly inhaling the smell of your shampoo, the scent which he had the honor of memorizing while his head was buried in the crook of your neck while his hips rutted into you.  

He laughed, “I wouldn’t let you suffer from my cooking. I thought we could go to the diner in town? Let the others witness the beautiful glow you have?” 

You pulled back and narrowed your eyes in questioning. “Glow?” 

“The post-sex afterglow, sweetheart. You look radiant this morning,” Eddie smirked, pushing your hair back and kissing your forehead.

You rolled your eyes at his cheesiness and placed your hands on the sides of his face, swiping your thumbs along his cheeks. “Hmm,” you squinted as you dramatically inspected him. “You got it too, Munson.” 

“Hmm. Not as pretty as you, princess.” The man smiled and pulled you in for another kiss, the smile never leaving his lips as he turned you over onto your back. “Love you,” he mumbled, resting his lips in the valley of your breasts. 

“I love you too,” you told him dreamily as his big brown eyes looked up at you.

[abi-endings]

if you'd taken an arrow (and run it right through me)

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: five times you and Eddie pretended not to know each other + one time you didn’t.

“Isn’t that that cheerleader?” Mike asked, his voice the picture of innocence as he pointed you out, eyes trained on Eddie’s face. Dustin narrowed his eyes as Eddie made a big show of trying to follow Mike’s finger.

“I dunno, man,” Eddie said, scratching the back of his neck. “They all look like cheerleaders to me.”

warnings: cheerleading injury, underaged drinking, mentions of smut

Keep reading

[abi-endings]

if you'd taken an arrow (and run it right through me)

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: five times you and Eddie pretended not to know each other + one time you didn’t.

“Isn’t that that cheerleader?” Mike asked, his voice the picture of innocence as he pointed you out, eyes trained on Eddie’s face. Dustin narrowed his eyes as Eddie made a big show of trying to follow Mike’s finger.

“I dunno, man,” Eddie said, scratching the back of his neck. “They all look like cheerleaders to me.”

warnings: cheerleading injury, underaged drinking, mentions of smut

Keep reading

[abi-endings]

Eddie Munson x Reader drabble

summary: mutual pining, road trip with best friend Eddie

For as long as you’ve known him, Eddie’s made you nervous. Whether it was his overbearing confidence or the ever growing crush you’ve held for years, you weren’t sure.

The only thing you were sure of, was that your nerve endings were splitting in two as you sat in the passenger seat on his van, Whitesnake playing in the background from the radio.

When the idea of a road trip to Chicago popped up, your entire friend group was all for it. But as the date came closer, the group of 6 slowly dwindled to a lonesome 2.

A mixture of excitement and anxiety filled you knowing you’d be sharing a motel with Eddie, spending a weekend away with just you and him. It felt coupley, like really coupley.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for a glance over at the boy driving. A reward, for surviving 2 hours in this van, you told yourself. You let your head loll from its place against the cool window to head rest.

Your eyes landed on the steering wheel first, one hand of ringed fingers curled around the steering wheel while the other rested on the arm rest besides him, fingers tapping to the soft music playing.

You traced up his bare forearms, to his exposed neck, then finally the side of his face. His strong jaw clenching slightly under the pressure of your gaze.

He passed a glance at you, his soft eyes melting into yours for a quick moment, before meeting the asphalt again.

“What’s up, rockstar?” he teased with a dimpled smirk. He reached over with his free hand, giving a playful squeeze to your bare knee.

You were thankful for the break in silence, and for the warmth of his fingers against your skin. His touch grounded you.

Out of habit, your eyes rolled at him, “I can’t wait to stretch my legs.” you whined, extending them in front of you for emphasis.

“Yeah, my ass hurts.” he hummed in agreement, “we have, like only an hour left.” He encouraged, with two heavy nods of his head.

Only an hour left, he thought, his stomach churned at the thought. He was excited, but his confidence was faltering as the miles to the city dwindled.

He thought convincing his friends to bail out was supposed to be the hardest part of this trip, this is my year, dude, time to make my move, he practically begged Gareth.

But the anticipation was suffocating. Knowing that this trip could be the push to more than friends territory weighed heavy on him

“This is gonna be crazy fun.” he stated, more to himself than you. Had you not known him so well, you would’ve missed the slight apprehension in his voice.

It made you feel better, knowing he was maybe just as nervous as you were.

“Duh. What’s more metal than shitty motels and getting stupid drunk at the Liar’s Club?” you encouraged, grin spreading across your soft lips at the endless possibilities for you two.

Getting stoned at navy pier, concerts, the aquarium? The anxiety started to morph into thrill at the thought and Eddie could feel it, too.

That thrill is what gave him the edge to start his plan now. He reached over again, but instead of your knee, he plucked your hand from its resting spot, entwining his fingers with yours.

“Nothing.” He finally responded, a smug smile spreading across his face as you didn’t pull away.

Your heart could explode from your chest, but a matching smile graced your lips. One more hour, you both thought. It wouldn’t be nearly as bad hand in hand.

[abi-endings]

eddie, shopping: is dustin a youth medium?

steve: like a child psychic?

steve: no that's eleven

eddie: i meant the tee shirt size

steve: oh

[abi-endings]

Hii, can I request an angsty fic with Eddie Munson, where he overhears Jason saying the reader (Eddie's secret gf) and him kissed and he believes it. So he ignores the reader and is a bit mean and the reader is sad and hurt when she finds out the reason. I'm not sure if I want it to end in fluff or not, so I will leave that to you.

✎﹏﹏ Rumors pt. 1

Next

✑ Pairings: Eddie Munson x f!reader

✑ Word Count: 4152

✑ Warnings: I don’t think there is any. Just angst and silent treatment. But let me know if I missed any!

✑ Authors Note: I’m sorry it took me a while to write this! I hope you like it, though, and it lives up to your expectations. Thank you for requesting it!! ♡

✑ Gif isn’t mine!

If someone were to watch the two for long enough and with a close eye, they would have noticed the sneaking glances Y/N Y/L/N and Eddie Munson shared as they passed each other in the hallways, or in the lunchroom, or even in class. They were always finding some way to look at each other, a silent acknowledgment of their presence— and their love— no matter where they were. No one noticed, anyway, so it didn’t matter and the couple persisted with the limited amount of public recognition and displays of affection. It wasn’t Y/N’s idea for them to be secretive about their relationship, but she also didn’t push Eddie on the matter; she understood where he was coming from.

As a school tutor, the one that most people, popular group included, sought out and paid for, Y/N had her own little business to protect. One that Eddie insisted would take a hit if they were to become public; “Since when were you such a businessman?” She had asked when he had first brought it up and he just shot her a charming smile and a “since your business was at stake.” She didn’t question anything after that, how could she? He was far too cute and she had to admit, his logic was sound. The moment word got out about them seeing each other, she knew a lot of people would suddenly find another tutor— or offer her less money. She wasn’t happy about it, no, but it did enable her to save up some money, especially so that she and Eddie could take a small vacation this summer, something that he was saving up for, too. Then after they went on their trip, they could be as public as they wanted.

It had been a good couple months since they started this secret relationship, making sure not to tell anyone and sneaking into each other’s houses late at night, giggling at almost being caught quite a few times. It had been hilarious watching Eddie try to scale her two story house to get into her window. All in all, it was going as amazing as could be expected when you weren’t allowed to run up to your partner in public and give them a kiss in front of everyone— but they were happy and that was what mattered the most.

Or Y/N thought, at least.

It was nearing lunchtime, the closest one could get to peace within a school day, when Y/N first noticed something going on. She noticed his mop of hair first thing as she entered the cafeteria, her heart skipping a beat and her trying to hide a grin that threatened to take over her face. It was nearly impossible to do, though. It always was. Eddie had been in front of her in the lunch line and, unlike usual, he didn’t do his casual lunchroom sweep to see where she was. He seemed intently focused on something and within a few moments, Y/N had located what, or better yet, who. Jason Carver stood a few people in front of Eddie, surrounded by his usual group of jocks, all of which was laughing unnecessarily loud, slapping Jason on the shoulder, and then glancing back to Y/N. She was still wearing the same smile that had formed from seeing Eddie, one that Jason returned rather quickly. Though she was confused on why their attention was directed to her and even more so when they delivered another round of slaps to Jason’s shoulders. Though nothing made her as confused as when Eddie looked back at her smiling face, his own morphing from disbelief to anger, and then storming away. The door would’ve slammed behind him had someone else not walked in, grabbing it right before it hit the frame, throwing looks back at Eddie, undoubtedly whispering some harsh words.

The call of her name was enough to bring her back into the present moment, worry gnawing at her heart and indecision at her brain: she couldn’t run after him without exposing everything, but her business was less important than his feelings. She didn’t get much time to think about it anymore before a hand was wrapped around her wrist and her body was being hauled forward. Jason was still grinning down at her as he settled her in line with him, ignoring the complaints of the hungry students behind them she had skipped.

“I did it.” He said with no further explanation. Y/N was a smart girl, whatever he was talking about should have clicked rather quickly, but she felt her mind blank of everything except Eddie. Her dumbstruck expression was enough for Jason to continue, “Well. Thanks to your help,” at this, his boys howled with laughter and passed each other knowing looks that once again sailed over her head, “I passed Mr. Hindleston’s exam.” At this, Y/N remembered exactly what he was talking about. He had been seeing her for a few days now to study for the test, seeming real worried that if he failed, his basketball career was in jeopardy. She thought that was an exaggeration, there was no way the coach would bench him, but she still felt pity— and maybe some excitement at the money he was offering— so she had cancelled on some dates with Eddie last week to really focus on this. She had told Eddie this, though, he knew who she was tutoring and he hadn’t been the slightest bit upset over it.

“Oh! That’s amazing, Jason! I knew you could do it, I’m so proud of you.” And she was, genuinely. He, despite acting like an ass most of the time in school, especially towards her boyfriend, had really been trying the few sessions they had together. And she knew firsthand how difficult Mr. Hindleston’s exams could be.

She hadn’t realized her eyes had wandered over the occupants of the cafeteria again until Jason slung an arm around her shoulder, jarring her back to him, “I could’ve never done it without you, N/N. How about you sit with us today? A little repayment for all you’ve done.” His friends behind him were leaning forward, all with expectant expressions and goofy grins.

They lost it in another round of laughs and high-fives when she responded with: “You’ve already paid me plenty.” He had paid her a bit extra money for all her time and cancelled plans, but that didn’t explain why his friends were acting like it was the greatest thing they’ve ever heard. Or why he was turning back to them with a mocking “Sh”, but it meant he had released her from his grip so she didn’t complain much.

“Oh, c’mon, I insist. Just for today?” He asked as he turned back to her, adding the charm on thick. She had started to shake her head, lips parting in a rejection. But before she could, he was shoving an empty lunch tray into her hands, “I’ll save you a seat.” The rest of the boys brushed past her, quickly making work of what they wanted on their trays while she just stood there, entirely lost. She was still concerned about Eddie, who still hadn’t made an appearance, and now she had to worry about Jason acting odd, his friends even odder.

“Hey, hurry up!” Someone behind her complained, slightly sticking the edge of their tray into her back so she moved forward. She was half aware of what she got from the food options, knowing she probably wouldn’t eat any of it.

She was right: she barely touched her food. Between Jason’s friends’ boisterous laughter, Jason himself trying to whisper things in her ear (which she soon picked up was more for the benefit of his friend’s humor than it was to talk to her) and her constantly searching for Eddie amongst the crowded room (which she had to lie about when Jason asked who she was looking for, saying just another student she tutors), she wasn’t in the mood to eat. She couldn’t run fast enough out of the cafeteria when the bell rang, signaling another class.

Despite being really good at the class, she hated it, the only good part about it was that she had it with Eddie. Who, for some reason, didn’t show up for that class, or their final one together, nor was Y/N able to find him in the halls in between. It was like he had entirely vanished. There was only one place Y/N hadn’t looked for him and she had to wait around in the library after the final class ended as students funneled out of the school and then she was able to slip inside the drama room, where Hellfire Club took place.

Right where she thought he’d be was Eddie, bent over a folder and furiously scribbling in it with a pencil. He didn’t even look up when she entered, but she knew he knew that she was there. No one could miss the heavy door swinging shut. The brief relief she felt when finding him was soon washed away.

“Eddie?” She addressed him just as she would anyone, not wanting her voice to carry out into the hallway if she called him something more personal. Though, when he still didn’t acknowledge her presence, she inched forward, eyebrows furrowing, “Babe?”

“I’m working.”

Now, Y/N was used to Eddie getting lost in planning campaigns and not paying attention to her or anyone— she knew it wasn’t personal. He simply got too caught up sometimes. But this was different. His voice held a hint of anger, like he was going to snap at any moment. Much like the pencil he held tightly in his hand, not moving an inch on the paper anymore, but still caught in the pressure of his grip.

She didn’t know what to do. He was obviously angry and had been since lunch, but she didn’t know what had set him off. She didn’t know how to handle his anger when it was directed at her— it had never been before. “What are you working on? Can I see?” She had thought that distracting him from the issue for a moment would help him take a breath, but instead, he closed the folder with a snap before she could peek over his shoulder, throwing the pencil haphazardly on the table, where it bounced and rolled off. She jumped back at the sudden movement of him standing up, shoving his seat back away from him.

He didn’t even look her way as he left the room. He didn’t offer her a small glance, or a smile, or even a whispered explanation. He just left and she stood there, watching as she felt her throat burning with the need to cry. Instead of allowing herself to break down over something she wasn’t certain of, she went to grab the pencil off the floor so no student would trip over it.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Over the next few days, holding back the tears was growing progressively harder. Silent treatment was an excruciating thing to experience when you desperately wanted to talk to someone, and Y/N’s mind was a never ending series of ‘what if’s’, none of them ending on a positive note.

The day after the lunchroom incident, she had tried to talk to him once again after giving him the entire night and day to cool off. But as she walked into the room of Hellfire Club, he had simply told her that it was club night and she needed to leave.

“What? Hellfire doesn’t start for another hour.” Silence was her answer, him suddenly acting very interested in setting up the game pieces and his folder, “Eddie, what’s going on? Talk to me, please. I can’t fix things if you won’t tell me what needs fixing.”

“The only thing that you need to fix is yourself. You are not in Hellfire, you don’t belong in this room. Go before someone shows up.” That was the first crack in the dam that held back her tears, though he didn’t look her way to notice how her eyes suddenly glistened.

“I’ve been in here plenty of times. You love showing me the set up. You love filling me in on the game.” If the crack in her voice wasn’t a give away to the fact she was about to cry, the fact that she was only seeing blurs was. Her throat was burning once more, her heart clawing at the inside of her chest as it raced against her brain, which was scrambling for an explanation to all of this. Last week he had been holding her in his arms beneath a starry sky, hidden in some abandoned parking lot so no one would spot them. Now he couldn’t even look at her.

She could barely make out the way Eddie tensed his shoulders, like he was preparing for an epic blow in the final campaign of the game. Like everything was about to be made or broken and he had to steel himself for whatever came next. “Things change, Y/N.”

The second crack ran deep, a single tear slipping from her eye before she could stop it. She wiped it away just as quickly. The silence hung between them for a few moments as she managed to take a few deep shuddering breaths to regain her composure, though when she did speak, her voice still cracked as it snuck past the painful lump lodged in her throat. “This isn’t funny, Eds. Come on. Tell me who this is, or this? What’s that mean?” She started firing off questions at him, grabbing random figurines and pointing to words in the folder that she definitely knew but was hoping for him to explain anyway. She had always loved listening to him talk, and he had always loved explaining DND to her.

“Leave, Y/N.” He didn’t wait for her to start objecting again before he was gently pushing at her shoulder, leading her back towards the door. He didn’t meet her eyes the entire time, keeping them directly ahead towards the wall. She heard the door opening behind her but didn’t realize that he had literally pushed her into the hallway until she saw the door start to close back.

She jumped forward, grabbing at the last straw that she could, one that would be cut in half if the door clicked back into place. “Wait! Am I, like, banished now or something?” She attempted the joke, twirling the invisible string around her finger, hoping to pull a smile from Eddie, anything to let her know it was all okay. She hoped he would open up the door, laugh and hold his arms out for her to run into like he did every time he successfully climbed through her bedroom window.

But the thing with hope is that failure always hits a lot harder afterward. The string of hope she had desperately clung to crumbled from her hand, falling to the floor beneath her as he finally met her gaze, saying a simple, “yes,” and then shut the door. She stared at it for a few moments, waiting for it to open back up for her. It never did. It wasn’t until she heard chatter coming down the hall did she finally turn and leave, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes never leaving her shoes. The last thing she wanted was to be stopped for a chat or a tutoring question. She had questions of her own that were waiting for answers.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Over the weekend, she had attempted to call him numerous times, losing count after she crossed over into the twenties. She knew it was annoying, but she had to talk to him. She needed to know what had happened between them, what had made him push her away.

He never answered.

The one time his uncle had answered, she could barely make out a muffled “tell her I’m not here” coming from Eddie. She had hung up before his uncle could deliver the lie.

She had even drove over to his place but to no avail. Either he truly wasn’t home this time or he wasn’t answering the door. But as she turned her car back onto the main road, she thought she saw a light flick on in his windows.

Despite her heart hanging heavy within her chest, she still carried on with tutoring, though her usual excitement and encouragement had taken a hit. It was worse when she’d stuff the money into her piggy bank, seeing what she had saved for a trip she felt now wouldn’t happen. She almost wished he would break up with her already so she at least had some form of an answer to her endless plague of questions. But he wouldn’t even talk to her long enough to say those simple words and save her the self-inflicted heartbreak she’s been egging on since this fight first started.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

On Tuesday, after being ignored for all of Monday and until the end of classes this day, she decided she wasn’t going to take it anymore. To hell with her tutoring, she thought as she marched right up to Eddie in the hall, halting his conversation with his favorite prodigy, Dustin. He seemed shocked as he looked at her but he quickly hide that expression behind indifference, raising an eyebrow at her as he waited for her to speak. This was the furthest she’s gotten with him in days so she took it in stride.

“I don’t know what’s happening, what I’ve done, but-“ Just as quick as she had his attention, she lost it. He looked past her for a brief moment, his jaw ticking in anger, but then slowly he met her stare once more. But she had saw it. She saw the jaw tick. She saw how his fingers curled into little fists at his side. She saw how the indifference wavered and let anger shine through. And when she turned to see what had caused it, she spotted Jason, leaning against her locker with his little friends in tow. They were all watching her with interest, Jason looking like he was about to head over and see what was happening.

“What-“ She started again as she turned back to Eddie, but her brain was suddenly grabbing at strings to tie together, fitting pieces of a puzzle into place. “Oh my god. You think I slept with Jason.” She couldn’t help but to laugh at first— it was preposterous. Her and Jason? Never. Not in a million years. Eddie jealous? As if anyone could ever catch her attention after him.

But her laughter cut off as she noticed Eddie not laughing, but instead watching her with the same blank stare he had been giving her for days. “Oh my god. You think I slept with Jason.” She repeated, the statement now holding a more hurtful meaning behind it. He wasn’t jealous. He fully believed she had slept with him. All those times she had told him she was tutoring Jason so they’d have to postpone their dates, he thought she was cheating. That hurt worse than the fight itself. Because the resounding meaning behind all of it was that he didn’t trust her. And he didn’t care enough to try to talk it out. He was okay with not speaking to her and keeping this image of her inside his mind, despite the months of her worshiping him and telling him how she loved him. He didn’t care to try to fix it. He didn’t know her enough to know she would never cheat, especially not with Jason.

She backed up a bit then, the realization hitting her like a blow. All those months of her trusting him with every secret, every thought, every feeling, was entirely one sided. Because she would never have accused him of something so ridiculous, not without listening to his side. Yet he had wasted no time in latching onto a rumor that painted her as some heinous whore. That was the third crack.

But the fourth was the final hit: “I don’t need your tutoring services anymore, Y/N. You’re free for other clients now.” It was the one that had her taking another step back, accidentally colliding with a random body. The hand on her waist didn’t register until Eddie scoffed, shooting her a look as if to say ‘was I wrong?’

It suddenly felt like she couldn’t breathe, like everyone was staring at her. She wasn’t crying, and she couldn’t understand why. She felt like the rug had been pulled out from beneath her feet, she was free falling through the air and no one was catching her. No one was even trying except for herself, who was trying to cling to any semblance of normalcy and stability. But it was a fruitless fight. Jason was spreading a rumor that she had slept with him, apparently. Which made his behavior in the lunchroom make more sense. But it had gotten back to Eddie.

Eddie, her sweet Eddie. The boy who swung her over a puddle of water so she wouldn’t get her shoes wet, the Eddie who snuck into her bedroom with an expired can of soup when she felt sick, and then apologized for the next hour after she told him it was expired. The boy who didn’t care enough to figure out the truth behind the situation, who ignored her for days and then broke up with her in such a way that no one else could understand except her. But she did understand. That was the breakup she had been waiting for, yet she didn’t shed a tear. Her skin held goosebumps all over and she felt like she was two seconds away from losing the ability to hold herself up.

She barely processed it as she pushed away from Jason, who was trying to talk to her while throwing insults towards Eddie, and headed to the girls bathroom, or when her back hit the door, preventing anyone from following in after her. She didn’t process the fact that she still wasn’t alone, either, and that a redhead was squatting down in front of her, asking if she was okay. She felt her head shake, she knew she wasn’t okay, but when her mouth opened to say that, she just started laughing like she had been in the hallway. Her brain was disconnected from her body at the moment, maybe a coping mechanism to keep her from panicking in a school bathroom. But the slight logical side of her that was staying intact knew it was too late for that.

“Y/N, right? I’m Max. Are you okay? Do I need to get someone?”

And for a slight second, she thought of him. She thought of asking this girl to go fetch Eddie, her boyfriend, the one who could calm her down. But then his angry face filled her mind, his coded breakup, and the laughter stopped. And she cried.

She cried for her reputation being tainted by Jason.

She cried for all the money she had saved for a trip that she was now 100% positive wouldn’t happen.

She cried for the fact that she only got to learn a few chords on Eddie’s guitar and would learn no more.

She cried for the months of her legs being scratched up by her crawling through his bedroom window. And for the shirt she ruined in the same activity.

She cried for the man who didn’t trust her.

She even cried for the feeling of anger she now felt towards him.

But she cried more for the anger she felt towards herself, for crying in the first place.

Max sat with her the entire time, not saying anything more, which Y/N was thankful for. It took her a few minutes to stop crying, even more so to catch a normal breath without her chest shuttering, and yet Max stayed sitting right beside her— maybe because she couldn’t get out of the door, but Y/N hoped it was because she was genuinely concerned and cared. She even helped her stand up on legs that had fallen asleep, laughing as Y/N shook them awake, and then helped her walk out into the hallway, heading straight to the front doors. She couldn’t bring herself to look around at all the faces lingering in the hallway, or the not-so sneaky glances being thrown her way by Eddie Munson.

She turned her attention to Max, who’s hair seemed brighter in the sunlight than it had in the harsh fluorescent bathroom lighting. “Hey, do you want ice cream? I just so happen to have quite a savings and could really go for some right now.”

[abi-endings]

hey, could you do some sort of oneshot where eddie and the reader are like acquaintances, but he flirts with her and compliments her and everything and she always gets all blushy and flustered and then he asks her out eventually

𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦

word count: 2.3K+

tags: Eddie x fem!reader, Eddie is bad at asking you out but good (?) at flirting, cheesy pick up lines, went for a more friends to lovers trope, humor, Steve kicking sense into Eddie

𝟬𝟭: 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗰𝘆

You burst through Eddie's trailer door so fast you're afraid you've ripped the damn thing off of its hinges, creaky metal swinging in the wind behind you as you look for the familiar sight of Eddie. He called you over, voice frantic and fraught with worry over the telephone - "you have to come over right now, there's no time to explain" - and you practically threw the house phone down before hopping into your car in just gym shorts and an oversized sweater.

"Eddie? EDDIE-" you yell, before you hear a muffled groan emitting from his room. His room is empty upon first glance, save for a mound of blankets moving in the middle of his bed. You can see peeks of brown curls poking out from the mess of sheets, before Eddie pops his head out from the pile of fabric, face scrunched up in pain.

"Oh my god, Eddie, what's wrong?"

You sit down next to him in a hurry, backpack falling to the floor with your hands coming up to grasp at his cheeks to turn his head sideways to examine him up close. You're mid-way through checking his temperature with one hand whilst also surveying his neck and shoulders for visible discololoration or markings when the pained expression on his face melts away into a boyish grin. And something about the sudden easiness in his posture and the mischievous glint in his amused eyes tells you that he isn't really sick.

"I've fallen for you and I can't get up." he jokes, breaking the tension in the room. Your hands fall to your side immediately, face twisting into a scowl as you grab the closest thing to you - one of his pillows - and smack him right in the chest. He doubles over at that impact, his smile only slightly apologetic as he looks back up at you through a fit of chuckles.

"I know, bunny, I'm sorry-" he starts, but you don't even let him finish.

"You told me it was a medical emergency, Munson." you spit, unimpressed as you stand back up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "I even brought first aid supplies and everything." you add, crossing your arms over your chest. Eddie pouts at that like a puppy.

"And it's really sweet that you care. But I reallyyyyy needed to see you. Is that so bad?" he teases, shaking his mound of blankets off. You roll your eyes.

"Then why didn't you just ask to hang out at the arcade or something like a normal friend?" you question, feet tapping on the floor impatiently, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. The metalhead doesn't seem the least bit bothered, ring clad hands tearing open a nearby bag of chips in the midst of the conversation.

"Not as... dramatic." he comments, speech impaired by chewing.

"Bye Eddie." you reply, monotone and unimpressed.

"Wait wait wait-" he chases you down before you can exit his trailer, however, the bag of chips left forgotten as he quickly swings his jean jacket over his shoulder. "We can still go to the arcade. You know, since I made you come all the way out here."

You sigh, biting your lower lip, before giving in.

"Fine. But you're paying for the first five games, deal?"

He lets out a slow whistle at that.

"Five games? You're going to make me bankrupt, (Y/n). But fine, fair deal."

𝟬𝟮: 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗲𝗹 𝗹𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁

"Next please!" you yell out, not looking up at who the next customer is as your hands are busy tying the apron behind your back.

It's a hectic Friday morning and the rush-hour traffic has meant you're up to your neck in coffee orders and agitated customers. Once the mom in front of you finishes paying for her drink and you look up, you're left to stare at Eddie's face, eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

"Eddie?" you can't believe your eyes.

"Hi princess." he flirts, leaning forward onto the counter. "Fancy seeing you here."

"I work here and you knew that, Eds." you deadpan, opening the cash register. "So what'd you want?" you ask, poking him in the arm with your index finger to get him to back off of the counter.

"Woah, woah, hostile much? You should remember that the customer is always right." is Eddie's dramatic response, placing a hand on his chest in faux shock.

You groan into your hands, though you can't help but let the slightest smidge of a smile curl at the ends of your lips at the much needed entertainment.

"As fun as it is to have you annoy me-"

"I'm taking that as a compliment." he cuts in, smirking.

"If you're not gonna order anything I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." you retort, raising your eyebrows.

He pouts, but obliges, picking up the plastic menu and quickly scanning the items.

"Hm... are you on the menu?" he then asks, leaning in close to you. You flick him on the forehead teasingly, giving him a chastising glance.

"Pick a damn drink or something, Munson."

"I'll get whatever is your favorite on the menu, thank you very much."

Scribbling the drink down onto a notepad, you pass off the pink slip of paper to your co-worker before smirking at Eddie.

"You just dug your own grave, rockstar." you warn. "My favorite drink here is the caramel latte."

His face sours in disgust and he sticks his tongue out.

"Ugh. You know I fucking hate the taste of caramel."

You shrug, amused.

"Not my fault. You said whatever was my favorite drink here. That's my favorite. That'll be $3.50, thank you very much."

Eddie chuckles under his breath, shaking his head sideways about how you were "one hell of a saleswoman" before handing you a $5 and telling you to keep the change as a tip. When you call for Eddie to pick up his drink later, you tell him he doesn't have to drink it if he doesn't want to, feeling a bit bad for him.

But the metalhead simply winks at you and says "if it's your favorite, princess, I'll finish it." Eddie ends up sitting at the back of the cafe to drink the latte, face scrunching up in between each pained and slow sip, making you almost burst out laughing numerous times.

But he finishes the drink as promised and you've never seen him look any damn prouder when he brings you an empty cup with a huge smile on his face.

"Told you I'd finish it for you." he boasts, practically flexing his chest out. You don't have any smart quips to retort with because something about having Eddie finish the caramel latte - even when he hates the taste of caramel, because it's your favorite drink - makes your heart warm.

Plus, you admit internally, you're pretty impressed.

𝟬𝟯: 𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗶𝗲 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗮𝗻𝘀

"Hi Dustin! Hi Lucas! Ready to go inside?" you ask excitedly, gesturing to the glittering poster for Evil Dead hanging up above. You're the last one to arrive for movie night at the cinema, with Eddie and the freshman duo already having arrived long before you. "Sorry I was late, by the way."

But the freshman boys don't seem to mind your tardiness - if anything, they seem relieved that you've finally arrived, Lucas shooting you a wide grin.

"Don't worry about it, seriously, because we, uh, actually have to leave." Lucas messily gets out, with Dustin fervently nodding behind his friend. You frown, confused.

"Really? Did something change?"

You don't notice Dustin shoving multiple $10 notes into his back pocket - having been paid off by Eddie mere minutes ago to go off to the arcade with Lucas so the metalhead could watch the horror movie alone with you - as the curly haired boy cuts in, forced apologetic smile on his face.

"Yeah, it's a real shame too because we were looking forward to it. Oh well, see you around, (Y/n) and Eddie! Have a good night!"

"Wha-"

Before you can even finish your sentence the boys run off to their bicycles and start cycling away, leaving you to stare at their retreating figures in confusion. You're still puzzled when you turn around to stare at Eddie, whose knowing smile quickly shifts into a neutral expression upon meeting your gaze.

"That was weird, right?" you question, hugging the lapels of your jacket closer towards your figure. Eddie nods quickly, hands sticking into his jean pockets.

"Yeah, super weird. Oh well. Ready for Evil Dead?" he jokes, offering one of his arms for you to take. You giggle at that, nodding.

"Ever so the gentleman... If I get nightmares from this tonight, by the way, I'm blaming you." you warn him, pointing the paper ticket crumbled in your hand towards him. He just smiles at that, waving off your concerns.

"If you get too scared, you're totally welcome to sleep over at my place. I'll keep my bed toasty and warm for you all night." he winks and you smack him in the chest weakly, rolling your eyes.

"Alright, casanova, relax."

The two of you run into Steve and Robin once inside the cinema, who also turns out were there to see Evil Dead. Since the screening room is basically empty (and much to Eddie's dismay) you invite the best friend duo to sit next to you and Eddie, so through the whole screening your attention is divided between the movie and joking alongside Steve.

Robin notices all the jealous looks Eddie keeps on throwing Steve, smirking in between mouthfuls of popcorn whilst Eddie nearly crushes the coke bottle in his hands when you laugh a little *too* hard at one of Steve's comments.

"Is everything alright, Eddie?" you ask him during one of the calmer scenes, leaning over to whisper into his ear. It causes goosebumps to rise across his arms and a chill to travel down his spine, his brain on overdrive at how good you smell from his proximity, mind scrambling for a response.

"Y-yeah. Everything's great. Just awesome."

You cock your head sideways at that, not fully convinced, but you sip on your soda and you're distracted once more when Steve pulls at the sleeves of your jacket to point out another stupid scene.

Eddie mopes for the rest of the night silently, not liking that you're giving Steve more attention than him.

𝟬𝟰: 𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘆

You wake to the sound of someone (noticably and loudly) tapping their knuckles against your window, the knocks only getting louder as you stir in your sleep. You groan, turning sideways to stare at the clock - it's two in the morning on a Tuesday - before flicking on your bedside lamp.

Turns out, Eddie's the one perched outside your window, one arm awkwardly bent behind his back as he waves at you through the glass. He's precariously balancing on the slanted rooftop as you rush to throw open the window for him, eyes wide in panic.

"Oh my god Eddie, did you fucking climb up here? You could've hurt yourself!" you scold him quietly, making sure to still whisper since everyone else in the neighborhood is still be sleeping. He only grins half-apologetic at that, lanky limbs stretching to carefully climb into your bedroom.

"Nah, it was nothing. Though I gotta admit it was kinda hard to climb up to the second story of your house with this on my other hand-" the tall boy groans out, shoving a bouquet of pink and white roses into your hands. You take the flowers cautiously, butterflies fluttering in your chest when your warm fingers brush up against his cold ones when doing so.

"Eds, what... what is all this?" you question, sitting back on your bed.

Gone is the usual confident, obnoxious persona and wicked smile to match. No, instead , Eddie is (for the first time you've ever seen him like this) nervous. Shifting on his feet awkwardly, not really meeting your gaze, dusted pink cheeks.

"I... I know we've been hanging out a lot the past few weeks-" he stammers.

"Rather involuntarily, but sure." you comment jokingly, making him awkwardly laugh.

"Right. Uh, I thought I was being real sly and cool by not directly asking you out and instead flirting with you with cheesy pick up lines and tons of compliments and excuses to get us alone but..." he pauses, tight smile on his face as he lets out a shaky breath. "I kind of realized recently that maybe that's not the way to go about things."

He's rambling, left hand idly toying with a stray hem of his jeans.

"Oh?" you raise your eyebrows.

"Y-yeah. But I believe Harrington's exact words were stop acting like a third grader who puts glue in the hair of the girl he has a crush on and just ask her out like an adult." Eddie scrunches his face and badly mimicks Steve's voice, causing you to giggle. The metalhead then straightens up, sheepish smile adorning his nervous face when he approaches you, knees right up to the bed. "So... uh... do you want to go on a date some time? A proper date."

You sigh, crossing your legs over one another whilst leaning back on your arms.

"And here I was thinking that all the times we were out together the past few weeks were already dates."

His eyes widen at that admission and he practically runs to sit next to you on the bed.

"Oh yeah! If you want to, they can totally be, I just wasn't sure if you thought of them as dates because I kind of did but we never called it that and I never really asked-"

He's rambling again and it's endearing, but you also haven't been able to tear your eyes off from how his tongue periodically peeks out of his chapped lips after every sentence to wet his very kissable lips. So you have to swing your legs over him, caging him in between your thighs as you place your hands on his face to redirect his attention to solely you.

"Just shut up and kiss me, won't you?"

He immediately quiets at that, signature smirk back on his face.

"Yes ma'am." he mock salutes you before diving in for a fierce kiss, finally fulfilling the fantasy that's been playing in his head for a month straight.

Except you feel - and taste - much better than what he'd imagined. Pillowy and smooth lips, aftertaste of your mint honey toothbrush, soft delicate hands trailing around his neck. He's already burning this memory into his mind for later, electricity jolting up and down his veins at the intimate contact.

"Can I stay over?" he asks you after pulling away, breathless.

"Sure."

"Is... this okay?" he asks you quietly, having stripped down to just his boxers to snuggle up right next to you in bed, his arms circling around your waist. His skin is slightly cold against yours but it's perfect, his earthy scent already lulling you to sleep.

"Yeah." you breathe out into the darkness, content. A few beats of silence pass before the thought appears in your head.

"This better not be the date you just asked me out on." you threaten, opening one eye.

You feel his body reverberate with a chuckle, his lips shakily pressing down onto your hairline.

"Don't worry, princess. I'll make sure our first official date is really special."

[abi-endings]

for my Eddie fans. I thought I’d do you the best favor I could. Feel free to use this image.

Hey y’all, so I realized that people have been reposting my shirtless Eddie edit across all platforms, however people don’t seem to see my watermark or know who created it.

Can everyone do me the favor, if you see it posted around, please tell them it was made by @zerlinity on tumblr! Thanks.