lil-quinnie

[lil-quinnie]

Out of Step, In Sync

Pairing: Eddie Munson X F!Reader

Summary: After a disappointing prom night, you stumble into an unexpected conversation behind the gym with Eddie Munson—Hawkins’ favorite scapegoat and misunderstood metalhead. What starts as a casual talk over a shared escape turns into something else unexpected.

Tags: Fluff, pure fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, honestly yall will need a dentist, SFW, mutual pining, developing relationship, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart, prom, dancing, 80s sci-fi references, no upside-down. No descriptions of reader. No mentions of Y/N

A/N: Yeah, you know me, I love a good 'ol fluff, I needed to feel something. If you have any requests, suggestions, or thoughts, feel free to send me a message. Reblogs are appreciated. Please do not steal or cross-post it on another platform without asking. Thank you.

Word Count: 8.4k

masterlist

You didn’t even bother glancing back.

The bass from the gym echoed down the corridor, muffled and distant, like a heartbeat you weren’t part of. Glitter clung to your dress and your shoes pinched with every step, but you didn’t care. The heels were coming off soon anyway. The air back here was cooler, quieter, less drenched in Aqua Net and teenage desperation. You welcomed it like an old friend.

You weren’t angry. Not even a little heartbroken. Just… done. Your so-called prom date was slow dancing with some girl from his chem class—too close, too familiar—but honestly? It was a relief. The two of you had nothing in common, and you’d spent most of the evening counting down the songs until you could leave without it being “a thing.”

Now, finally, you were alone.

You pushed the heavy double doors open and stepped out into the cool night. The gym’s back lot was empty, save for a few leftover streamers fluttering from a fence post. You sighed, breathing in the crisp air. Somewhere in the distance, a cicada buzzed lazily.

Then you caught it—the scent of smoke.

Cigarette smoke.

You turned your head and there he was, half-shadowed by the building’s edge, denim jacket draped over a worn prom tee, black slacks like he hadn’t tried at all—and still somehow made it work. Eddie Munson, leaning against the brick wall like the whole world bored him to tears.

He raised an eyebrow when he noticed you, but didn’t say anything at first. Just took another drag and watched you with a crooked smile.

“Well, well,” he said finally, voice low and amused. “Didn’t peg you for a backdoor escape artist.”

You crossed your arms, smirking. “Didn’t peg you for someone who’d show up at prom.”

He shrugged. “Had to see it to believe it. The glitter. The heartbreak. The emotional meltdowns. It’s like a zoo in there.”

You laughed, the first real one of the night. It caught you off guard.

He flicked ash off the end of his cigarette and nodded toward the gym. “So. Who do I have to thank for you gracing the back alley with your presence?”

You tilted your head. “My date’s dancing with someone else.”

Eddie winced dramatically. “Oof. Harsh.”

“Nah,” you said, leaning against the wall beside him. “We had the chemistry of a wet sponge. I’m just glad he realized it before I had to fake a bathroom emergency.”

He chuckled, and it sounded honest. Warm.

“Well,” he said, holding the cigarette out like an offering, “welcome to the land of misfit prom-goers.”

You eyed the cigarette, then shook your head. “I’ll pass. But thanks, ambassador of the misfits.”

Eddie grinned, sliding it back between his lips. “Suit yourself.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. If anything, it felt kind of… easy. The thump of music behind you became background noise, like it belonged to another world. You looked out across the empty lot, then back at him.

“So what about you?” you asked. “Didn’t have a date either?”

Eddie snorted. “Please. Can you imagine me at a formal dinner with someone’s mom taking pictures? Nah. I’m just here for the chaos. Thought I’d maybe sneak in, spike the punch, throw a few firecrackers—y’know, the classics—but someone already beat me to it. So now I’m stuck lurking like a gremlin in the shadows.”

You laughed again, easier this time. “Well, you wear the gremlin look well.”

He placed a hand on his chest. “High praise.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. Just quiet. Peaceful. Like the noise of the gym didn’t even exist out here.

You twirled the cigarette in your fingers. “I used to think you were all noise, y’know,” you said without really thinking. “Like, loud music and heavy boots and wild hair.”

“I mean, I am all of those things,” he said, raising a brow.

“Sure,” you said. “But I don’t know… I think there’s more to it.”

He looked at you for a second, like he was trying to read your mind. Then he smiled. “Alright. Your turn. Tell me something about you that’d surprise me.”

You thought about it. Then, what the hell.

“I like science fiction. Books. Comics, too.”

Eddie blinked. “What?”

You shrugged, suddenly a little self-conscious. “Yeah. I mean… it’s not something I talk about. People think it’s weird.”

“Okay, hold on.” He straightened up, suddenly animated. “What kind of sci-fi? Like, classic stuff or weird future dystopia stuff?”

“Both,” you said, grinning despite yourself. “Ray Bradbury, Isaac Asimov. And there’s this one graphic novel series I’ve been obsessed with—The Long Tomorrow. You probably haven’t heard of it.”

Eddie’s mouth fell open. “Are you kidding me? Moebius is a god. That gritty noir-future vibe? That’s, like, the blueprint for half my D&D campaigns.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wait, you like Moebius?”

“Like him? I worship him. I have The Airtight Garage under my mattress so my uncle doesn’t ‘accidentally’ throw it out during one of his cleaning sprees.”

You couldn’t stop smiling now. “That’s ridiculous.”

He pointed at you with his cigarette. “You’re ridiculous. All this time I thought you were just another prom queen in disguise and now you’re telling me you’re secretly a sci-fi nerd?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not a prom queen.”

“No,” he said, grinning. “You’re way cooler.”

The compliment caught you off guard. There was no smirk behind it, no teasing edge—just honesty. His eyes lingered on yours, and for the first time all night, you felt seen. Not dressed up, not performing, just you.

“Guess we both had the wrong idea,” you said quietly.

He nodded. “Guess so.”

And just like that, the space between you didn’t feel so distant anymore.

You both stood there for a while, trading stories—about favorite books, childhood cartoons, and how utterly overrated prom was. You were surprised how much you had in common. Maybe not in how you moved through the world, but in the way you looked at it. Like both of you were on the outside looking in, only now you had company.

Through the slightly cracked door, a new song filtered out. Faint but unmistakable.

“I wanna know what love is…”

You glanced back toward the gym. The colored lights flickered just beyond the windows, a blur of red and blue. The music carried more clearly now, bleeding into the cool night air like some kind of cosmic joke.

Eddie took another drag, then stubbed out the cigarette under his boot. “You should go back in,” he said after a moment, flicking ash from his fingertips. “It’s prom. Go dance with someone. Someone who doesn’t hang out behind dumpsters and make fun of the decorations.”

You tilted your head at him. “You mean someone boring?”

He gave a breathy laugh. “Someone who won’t get you judged by, like, the entire social hierarchy of Hawkins High.”

You shrugged. “I already got ditched by my date. What’s the worst they can do? Gasp?”

Eddie smiled, but his eyes drifted back toward the glowing gym windows. “Still… I’m not exactly prom royalty.”

“Well, neither am I,” you said. “So maybe that’s the point.”

He didn’t answer. Just rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking unsure of himself for the first time that night.

You tilted your head again, studying him. “You know,” you said slowly, “you could go dance too.”

Eddie barked a short laugh. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” He held up his hands, surrender-style. “I can’t dance. I mean it. Like, at all. I’ve got rhythm when I’m playing guitar, but put me on a dance floor and I look like I’m dodging bees.”

You stared at him for a moment. Then something wild and impulsive bubbled up inside you.

You stepped forward, just close enough to be a little dangerous.

“Okay,” you said, lifting an eyebrow. “So don’t go on the dance floor.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Stay right here. Dance with me.”

Eddie straightened slightly, like he wasn’t sure he heard you right. “Are you… serious?”

You nodded, smiling now. “I’ll guide you. You don’t have to know how. Just follow me.”

He hesitated. And for a second, you thought he’d say no. But then, slowly, like he was afraid the moment might break if he moved too fast, he took your hand.

His fingers were warm. Calloused. A little shaky.

You placed his other hand at your waist, your free hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

The music swelled behind you, soft and sweet and full of yearning.

“…and I want you to show me…”

You started to sway, just a little. Nothing fancy. Just moving to the rhythm, simple and easy.

“Okay,” you said, voice low. “Just match me. That’s it.”

Eddie watched your feet like they held all the answers in the universe, but he followed. Awkwardly at first. Then with a little more confidence. Then a little more.

He looked up at you, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re really doing this.”

“So are you.”

And under the stars, with music bleeding out from a world that didn’t quite fit either of you, Eddie Munson danced.

With you.

You didn’t let go.

And for the life of him, Eddie couldn’t understand why.

Your dress swaying slightly in the night breeze, and you were holding his hand. Guiding him like this was just some normal thing people did — like you weren’t the kind of girl who was supposed to laugh behind your locker with friends in matching dresses. Like you weren’t way too pretty, too bright, too out-of-his-league to be caught slow dancing with the town freak behind a gym full of people who’d never get it.

But there you were. Smiling at him like he wasn’t a joke. Like he wasn’t just a rumor in black denim.

And all Eddie could do was follow your lead.

You moved gently, no pressure. Just a simple sway. His hand was on your waist, and he could feel your heartbeat through the fabric, could feel the way your fingers gripped his just enough to ground him. Like you knew he was seconds away from spinning off the planet.

How was this real?

For once, Eddie Munson wasn’t putting on a show or throwing up middle fingers at the world. He wasn’t posturing or mocking or performing.

He was just here.

Dancing with you under the stars, to a song he didn’t even like, and somehow? It felt like the most honest thing he’d ever done.

The ride home was quiet, but not the awkward kind. The good kind. The kind that settled between the two of you like a blanket, warm and easy.

Eddie’s van rumbled softly down the back roads, headlights cutting through the dark. Your heels were in your lap, your feet bare and curled up on the seat, glitter still dusting your legs. The leftover makeup smudged slightly beneath your eyes, but you didn’t care. Neither did he.

He kept glancing at you when he thought you weren’t looking. You noticed, but you didn’t say anything.

The radio played something soft—some late-night ballad that felt a little too on the nose—but neither of you reached out to change the station. It kind of fit.

When he finally pulled up in front of your house, the engine idled low, casting the porch in pale yellow light. You didn’t move at first. Neither did he.

You turned to him, your voice softer than it had been all night. “Thanks for the ride.”

He looked at you, really looked at you, and gave a small, genuine nod. “Yeah. Of course.”

You opened the door, about to step out, then hesitated.

“And… thanks for earlier,” you added, eyes meeting his. “I actually had fun tonight.”

His brows lifted, surprised. “Yeah?”

You smiled. “Yeah. Like… more than I’ve had in a while.”

Eddie’s fingers drummed once on the steering wheel. “That’s kinda sad,” he teased. “But I’ll take it.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t fade.

He watched you for a second longer, eyes darker in the dim light. “You’re not what I expected,” he said, quietly.

You tilted your head. “Good unexpected?”

He shrugged, but there was something softer in the way he looked at you now. “Yeah. Definitely.”

You nodded slowly, then stepped down from the van. The door thunked shut behind you, but you lingered at the curb, turning back one last time.

“See you Monday?”

He grinned. “I’ll be the one getting detention.”

You laughed, backing toward your porch.

And he stayed there, parked under the streetlight, watching you go—wondering what the hell just happened, and why he kind of, maybe, really wanted it to happen again.

Monday’s cafeteria buzzed with leftover prom talk—who wore what, who threw up in the parking lot, and who was already regretting their choice of date. You sat with your usual group, a tray of barely-touched food in front of you, picking at a soggy fry as your friends swapped stories.

“I swear, if I hear more stories of Lisa and Charlie slow dancing, I’ll puke,” one of them groaned.

“I heard Jeff cried during I Wanna Know What Love Is,” another snorted.

You chuckled under your breath, but you were only half-listening. Your thoughts were still stuck somewhere in the quiet part of Friday night—lit by stars, wrapped in soft music and Eddie Munson’s uncertain hands.

“Okay,” said Courtney, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin, “tell us. What happened with you? You disappeared after ten.”

Your stomach did a small flip. “I, uh… went outside for some air.”

“That long?” someone chimed in. “Didn’t your date ditch you?”

You shrugged. “Yeah. But it was mutual, kinda. No chemistry.”

Courtney raised an eyebrow. “So what, you just wandered off?”

You hesitated, then decided to own it.

“I ran into Eddie Munson. We talked for a while.”

The table quieted. You didn’t miss the way someone blinked. Or the small, uncomfortable scoff.

“Wait—Eddie Munson?” said one of the girls, drawing out his name like it tasted wrong. ���As in… Hellfire Club, Eddie?”

You looked up, steady. “Yeah.”

“Oh my god,” another said under her breath. “Isn’t he like… failing half his classes?”

“I heard he might repeat senior year again,” someone else added. “That’s like—what, his third time?”

You set down your fry and leaned back a little. “So what?”

That shut them up for a beat.

You looked around the table. “He was nice. We talked. We danced. It was actually… fun.”

Courtney blinked at you, like she couldn’t quite process it. “You danced with Eddie Munson?”

You smiled. “Yeah. He’s different than people think.”

They exchanged a few glances, probably trying to figure out if you were serious, but you didn’t give them room to argue. You just went back to your tray, casual but firm.

You didn’t owe them anything else.

And when they finally moved on to a different story, you let your mind drift again—back to Eddie’s hands, awkward and warm in yours, and the way he’d smiled like no one had ever looked at him the way you had.

The final bell rang and the halls of Hawkins High exploded with noise—slamming lockers, shouted goodbyes, the usual stampede toward the exit. You were pulling out your books, ready to head home, when a familiar mop of messy curls came into view.

Eddie.

He almost walked past, arms full of binders and that damn lunchbox of his, but then he spotted you. His grin bloomed instantly.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite prom partner,” he said, walking backward in front of you with dramatic flair.

You snorted. “I’m your only prom partner.”

“Details,” he waved off, turning to walk beside you. “Still the best.”

You shook your head, trying not to smile too wide, but it was hard. He kept cracking jokes—half of them dumb, some surprisingly clever, all of them weirdly charming. By the time you reached the front doors, you were laughing hard enough to forget about the weight of your backpack or the way people stared.

Outside, the sun was still high, casting golden light over the parking lot. You lingered near the bike racks, and Eddie rocked back on his heels, suddenly looking like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how.

He scratched the back of his neck. “So, uh…”

You raised an eyebrow.

“You doing anything right now?”

You blinked. “Not really. Why?”

His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. “Wanna get milkshakes or something?”

You tilted your head, amused. “Are you asking me out?”

“What? No!” he said quickly, eyes wide. “I mean—not that you’re not—ugh.” He rubbed his face with both hands. “Not like a date date, just, y’know. A post-school, ice-cream-adjacent hangout. Very casual. Extremely non-threatening.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. “You’re doing a terrible job of making it sound casual.”

He groaned. “God, I know.”

You paused for a second. Then smiled.

“Yeah. Let’s get milkshakes.”

Eddie blinked. “Wait—really?”

“Really,” you said, starting to walk again, this time toward his van. You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Do I get to pick the music in your van?”

He placed a hand over his heart, mock wounded. “Absolutely not. But you can control the windows.”

Lunchtime in the cafeteria. Same old gray plastic trays, same mystery meat, same half-hearted arguments about campaign rules. Eddie was halfway through explaining, for the third time, why rolling a nat 1 on perception doesn’t mean you automatically get eaten by a mimic, when something—or rather, someone—stepped into his line of vision.

You.

He blinked up at you, startled. You were holding something. A piece of paper, no—thicker than that. Watercolor paper.

You thrust it out toward him before he could even say hi.

“I, um… I made this.”

Eddie looked down.

It was a watercolor painting. Bold, messy brush strokes in warm and murky tones. And there, standing like some strange cosmic king, was Major Grubert from The Airtight Garage. Rendered with this dreamy, layered energy—loose and vivid, with little gold details that shimmered when they caught the light.

“You painted this?” he asked, dumbfounded.

You nodded quickly, already looking like you regretted everything. “I don’t know. It’s dumb. I just— You said you liked the comic, and I was painting for art club, and I thought maybe you’d—”

He stared at you.

You stared at the floor.

“Anyway,” you rushed, already backing up. “You don’t have to keep it or anything. I just—yeah, okay, bye.”

And then you turned on your heel and disappeared between the tables, like a mirage, gone as fast as you came.

For a second, Eddie didn’t move. His tray sat forgotten, and the painting was still in his hands.

“What the hell was that?” said Gareth.

Jeff leaned over, squinting. “Is that… art?”

“Holy crap,” said one of the freshmen, eyes wide. “Did she just give you that? Like, a gift?”

“I think she did,” Eddie murmured.

He was still staring at it. Still stunned.

Because it wasn’t just the painting—though that alone was cool as hell—it was the fact that you made it for him. That you remembered that offhand comment about The Airtight Garage from days ago. That you painted this weird little sci-fi character, and thought of him while doing it.

It was… a lot.

Eddie cleared his throat, trying to shake the dazed look off his face. “Shut up,” he mumbled, carefully sliding the painting into his binder like it was made of glass. “None of you get it. It’s called being interesting, you cretins.”

They didn’t stop staring.

Gareth leaned over the table. “Dude. Seriously. What was that?”

Doug raised an eyebrow. “Did you hex her or something?”

“Shut up,” Eddie muttered, still guarding the painting like it was top-secret government property. He shoved it deeper into his binder, then clapped it shut with a loud snap.

“You’ve been weird all week,” Jeff pointed out.

“Yeah, man,” Gareth said, gesturing wildly. “You’ve been, like… smiley. It’s freaky.”

Eddie sighed like a man defeated, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Fine,” he mumbled, keeping his voice low. “If I tell you, will you shut up and let me eat my damn lunch?”

They all nodded in rapid, eager unison.

Eddie leaned forward slightly. “We danced at prom.”

The table went silent.

“What?” Gareth blinked. “Who did?”

“Me and her,” Eddie said, voice a little more defensive now. “It just kind of… happened. She came outside. We talked. She offered. I didn’t step on her feet. Miracle of the decade.”

“She asked you to dance?” Jeff repeated, stunned.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yes, Jeff. It’s not that hard to believe.”

“It’s just—she’s, like… art club. Social. Normal,” said Doug.

“And I’m a freak,” Eddie finished, not angrily—just matter-of-fact. “Yeah, yeah. I know. That’s the whole thing, right?”

They all exchanged awkward glances.

Eddie softened a little. “We’ve just been talking since then. That’s all. She’s cool. Funny. Into sci-fi stuff. And apparently, she paints really badass cosmic generals in her spare time.”

The group went quiet again, but this time with a slightly different energy.

Jeff nodded slowly. “Huh.”

“Damn,” Gareth muttered. “Did not see that coming.”

Eddie shrugged, leaning back in his seat and finally stabbing at his lunch. “Neither did I.”

But under the table, his fingers tapped quietly on his knee—restless in that weird, hopeful way.

Because yeah… he didn’t see it coming.

Your room looked like a clothing explosion.

Jeans on the bed. A skirt on the floor. Three different tops draped over your chair. You stared into the mirror, adjusting the neckline of your favorite shirt for what had to be the fourth time, then gave up and let out a groan.

It wasn’t a date.

Not officially.

But still.

Eddie had asked you yesterday—Eddie Munson, king of chains, dice, and anti-establishment rants—if you wanted to go to the new Starcourt Mall. He’d said it kind of awkwardly, like the words felt weird in his mouth. Then he’d doubled down with, “I mean, I hate malls, they’re corporate brain rot, but if you’re there too, I guess I won’t spontaneously combust.”

Which, translated from Eddie-speak, meant: I want to spend time with you, and I’m doing something completely out of character because it might make you smile.

So yeah. Maybe it was a date.

You adjusted your hair again, spritzed the tiniest bit of perfume, and gave yourself one last once-over. Just polished enough to show you cared—but not so much it looked like you were trying. Hopefully.

A soft knock on your door pulled you back to Earth.

Your mom peeked in, eyes twinkling.

“Sweetie?”

“Yeah?”

She pushed the door open with a hand on her hip and an expression halfway between curiosity and polite judgment. “There’s a young man waiting downstairs for you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “He’s early?”

She shrugged. “Five minutes. Maybe he was excited.”

You tried to hide your smile as you turned back to the mirror, smoothing down the hem of your nicest top. Not fancy fancy — just enough to look like you put in effort. It wasn’t every day Eddie Munson asked someone to hang out somewhere as un-Eddie as the Starcourt Mall.

You were flattered. And a little impressed. He was trying.

Your mom lingered by the doorway, arms crossed loosely now.

“You didn’t tell me you were seeing someone.”

You paused, lip gloss wand hovering in the air. “I’m not. We’re just… hanging out.”

She arched a brow. “Uh-huh.”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. “I mean it.”

“Well,” she said, pushing off the doorframe. “He’s… not what I expected.”

You turned slowly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Leather jacket. Messy hair. Rings on every finger. He’s got a… rough-around-the-edges thing.” She shrugged. “I didn’t peg him as your type.”

You hesitated. “Is that a problem?”

She raised her hands. “Not for me. Just... interesting choice.”

Then, softening, she added, “But he stood up when I walked in. Called me ma’am. And he didn’t look at the family photos weird, so… he’s alright in my book.”

You blinked. “Wow. High praise.”

“I’m just saying,” she smiled. “You could’ve warned me you brought home a James Dean type.”

You rolled your eyes again, but this time you were grinning. “He’s not like that.”

“If you say so.”

With that, she turned to leave, calling over her shoulder, “Don’t leave him waiting too long—he keeps checking his watch.”

Your heart fluttered.

You gave yourself one last look in the mirror—quick swipe of gloss, tuck of hair behind your ear—and grabbed your bag.

You didn’t expect Eddie Munson to know his way around a shopping mall.

And to be fair… he didn’t.

From the moment you stepped into Starcourt’s fluorescent glow, he looked like a vampire in daylight—eyes squinting, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, muttering about “late-stage capitalism” like the air itself offended him.

“This place smells like fabric softener and broken dreams,” he declared as you passed an Orange Julius stand.

You grinned. “You’re so dramatic.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute, or I’d have already burst into flames.”

But despite all his grumbling, he stuck close. Arm brushing yours. Slowing down when you lingered in shop windows. Letting you tug him toward places you knew he’d secretly like—like the comic shop tucked near the food court, where he perked up at the sight of a rare Swamp Thing issue and ended up ranting, passionately, about horror art for ten straight minutes.

After that, it all got easier.

He let you drag him through a novelty store, where he made you try on glittery heart-shaped sunglasses and nearly bought a lava lamp “just because.” At Sam Goody, you flipped through cassette tapes while he made dramatic gagging noises at pop albums and then—when he thought you weren’t looking—quietly bought a Bowie tape because you mentioned liking one song.

Somewhere between Cinnabon and Spencer’s, your arms brushed again.

And this time, he didn’t move away.

Instead, he offered his elbow in that silly, exaggerated way, like some knight escorting royalty through battle. You rolled your eyes but linked arms anyway.

You didn’t unlink for a while.

When you passed the photobooth, it was your idea.

“C’mon,” you said, already tugging at his sleeve. “We have to. It’s practically a law.”

“I hate pictures,” he protested.

“Too bad.”

He grumbled, but followed.

The booth curtain smelled like static and old gum, and the light inside was way too bright. But Eddie slid in beside you anyway, pressing his knee against yours in the cramped space.

The timer beeped.

First photo, a blur of you both, too late to pose.

Second photo, you were smiling, he was sticking his tongue out.

Third, he turned his head and said something just as the flash went off, so his mouth was frozen mid-word and you were laughing.

Fourth, he looked at you. Really looked. And you looked back, cheeks warm. And for that one second, neither of you made a face.

That last one made your stomach flutter.

The strip slid out a few seconds later, still warm from the machine. You both leaned over it, smiling like idiots.

“I’m keeping this one,” you said, pointing to the last shot.

“No way. That’s the best one.” He mock-whined. “It’s mine now.”

“Split it,” you said, already reaching for it. “Even trade.”

So you carefully tore it down the middle, each of you keeping two little squares. You tucked yours into your wallet. He stuffed his into the pocket of his jacket like it was something worth keeping safe.

After that, you shared a cherry slushie and browsed the record store. You ended up on one of the benches near the fountain, your shoulders bumping gently as you sat.

Eddie kicked at the tile with the toe of his boot. “Okay, confession,” he said, not looking at you. “This was kinda fun.”

You smiled. “Even though it’s a capitalist wasteland?”

He grinned. “Especially because of that. I got to rant and be dramatic and walk around with a pretty girl on my arm. All the core Eddie Munson needs.”

You laughed and leaned your head against his shoulder.

And you didn’t say it out loud, but in your pocket, the photo strip pressed between your wallet like proof:

Something was happening between you.

And it felt really, really good.

The smell of acrylic paint alingered in the air, windows cracked just enough to let in the late afternoon breeze. You sat cross-legged on a stool, paintbrush in hand, blotting a soft gradient of pink across the corner of your sketchbook while your friends chatted around you.

“So then Brad says he didn’t cheat, he just ‘accidentally’ kissed her,” Courtney said, rolling her eyes as she rinsed a brush in a cloudy jar of water. “Like that’s a thing.”

“Classic,” Angela muttered. “Men are such a disease.”

You hummed in vague agreement, still focused on blending your colors. It wasn’t until Courtney nudged your foot under the table that you looked up.

“Okay, but you had that smug little look on your face when you walked in,” she said. “So. Tells us. What did you do this weekend?”

You paused.

Then smiled. Just a little. “I went to the mall.”

“Ugh, I live there,” Angela said. “With who?”

“…Eddie.”

Courtney blinked. “Eddie Munson?”

Angela dropped her pencil. “Seriously?”

You shifted in your seat, brushing a spot of paint from your thumb. “Yeah.”

They exchanged a glance, the kind that was just a little too loaded. “Are you—like—serious with him?” Courtney asked, a bit cautiously.

You looked down at your sketchbook.

The memory hit you fast and warm—Eddie, leaning back on a food court bench, drumming his fingers against his knee and grinning every time your hand brushed his. The way his face softened when he looked at you, like he couldn’t believe you were real. The photobooth picture in your wallet, folded so carefully it was starting to wear at the edges.

You swallowed, eyes flicking back up.

“I don’t know yet,” you said honestly. “But… maybe.”

Courtney raised a brow. “I mean, he’s kind of—”

“Different,” Angela finished for her. “Like, not who we thought you’d be into.”

You let out a breath, not defensive—just tired of that tone.

“He’s actually really sweet,” you said. “He listens when I talk. He cares about stuff. He remembered I liked a random song and went back for the tape the next day. He’s not what you think he is.”

The girls went quiet for a second.

Then Courtney shrugged. “Okay. I mean, if you like him.”

“I do,” you said quietly, adding a final brushstroke to your page. “More than I thought I would.”

Angela cracked a smile. “Well… if he breaks your heart, we’re egging his van.”

You laughed. “Deal.”

The library was louder than usual—not in noise, but in energy. Stress hung thick in the air, like a storm cloud hovering over every student hunched at their tables. Pages flipped, pencils scratched, the occasional frustrated sigh echoed off the stone walls. It was exam season.

Eddie Munson was in hell.

His science textbook lay open in front of him, untouched for the last ten minutes. His notebook was empty, save for a rough sketch of a dragon flipping off a periodic table. He tapped his pencil against his lip, eyes unfocused, legs jittering under the table.

This wasn’t his place. He hated the cold lighting, the itchy silence, the way it all felt like it was judging him for every gap in his knowledge.

And then you walked in.

Like sunlight in a storm.

You made your way across the room, dodging backpacks and tangled limbs, carrying your bag against your hip and a calm expression that made it look like you weren’t drowning in deadlines and formulas. You spotted him, gave a little wave, and sat down across from him.

“Hey,” you said softly.

He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath all day. “Hey.”

You glanced at the disaster zone of his table—crumpled notes, half-drawn doodles, an empty soda cup with a chewed straw—and smiled.

“Rough day?”

Eddie dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m about five minutes away from faking my own death and starting a new life as a gas station poet in Ohio.”

You laughed, but it softened quickly as you reached into your bag and pulled something out: a clean, colorful folder. It had your name written neatly on the corner, and sticky notes poking from the sides like a rainbow spine.

You slid it across the table toward him. “These are my notes. For science. And history. And… okay, maybe I got carried away.”

He blinked. “You—”

“They’re color-coded. Definitions are in blue. Equations are pink. Anything our teachers stressed in class is highlighted. I even made flashcards, they’re in the back pocket.”

Eddie just stared at it.

Not because he didn’t want it. But because something about it felt… personal. Intimate.

No one had ever done something like this for him before.

You fiddled with the edge of your sleeve. “I don’t know, maybe it’s dumb. But they helped me. I figured maybe they’d help you too.”

He reached out slowly, fingers brushing the cover. Then, reverently, he opened it.

It was like walking into your mind. Your handwriting curled neatly over page after page. You’d drawn little diagrams. Circled key dates. There was even a little cartoon mitochondrion wearing sunglasses on one page.

He swallowed.

“This is…” he said quietly, still flipping pages. “This is incredible.”

You shrugged, trying not to blush. “Just thought you could use a little help.”

Eddie didn’t respond right away. He just sat there, running his thumb along the edge of one of the pages like it might disappear if he let go.

Then he looked up at you. Not with the usual teasing smile or lazy smirk.

He looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time.

“I swear to god,” he said, voice low and serious, “if you keep being this perfect, I’m gonna have to make you mine.”

Your heart stuttered.

You blinked, stunned—but not in a bad way. Just… surprised by the weight of those words, how much they didn’t sound like a joke.

You recovered with a half-smile. “You should probably focus on passing chemistry first.”

“Baby, I’m failing chemistry because you walk into the room and all the atoms in my brain rearrange.”

You laughed, covering your face for a second. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It’s emotional science,” he insisted. “Way more complicated.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth wouldn’t leave your cheeks.

He closed it gently, like he was sealing up treasure.

“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it.

“Of course,” you replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’ve been helping me too. Just in a different way.”

Eddie tilted his head. “Oh yeah? How?”

You looked at him, and this time, didn’t hesitate. “You make me feel like I don’t have to hide the weird parts of myself.”

Eddie’s eyes softened.

“I’d riot if you did.”

You were digging through your locker for your pencil pouch when you heard it—footsteps, pounding fast down the hallway, like someone was being chased. You didn’t even look up until a voice you knew all too well shouted your name like it was a fire alarm.

“Hey!”

You turned just in time to see Eddie Munson nearly skid on the polished floor as he sprinted toward you, hair wild, jacket flapping behind him like a cape.

He nearly collided with the locker beside yours, bracing himself with one hand, breath coming in quick bursts.

“Eddie—what—?”

“I passed,” he said, eyes bright and disbelieving. “I passed.”

It took you a second to register what he meant. “Wait—like... everything?”

He nodded, grinning so hard his face looked like it might split open. “Everything. Math, English, science—Mrs. Miller gave me a D-minus, but that’s still a D! That’s still passing!”

You dropped your books onto the floor without even caring.

“Eddie, that’s amazing!”

And before you knew what you were doing, you threw your arms around him.

He laughed into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you clean off the floor for a second, spinning once with the wildness of it all.

“I had to tell you first,” he said, voice muffled in your hair. “I ran here.”

You pulled back just enough to see his face. His cheeks were flushed, lips parted, eyes shining with something that looked way more intense than just pride.

He looked at you like you were the sun after months of rain.

“Seriously, I never would’ve made it without you,” he said. “Those notes? Those flash cards? The dumb acronyms you made up so I could remember physics formulas—”

“They weren’t dumb,” you said, laughing.

“They were adorable,” he corrected, like it was obvious. “And apparently effective.”

His hands were still on your waist. Yours were curled into his jacket without you noticing. Your faces were close—closer than usual. And you saw it flicker across his face—something unspoken, something about to break through.

And then it did.

He kissed you.

No hesitation, no stammering this time. Just a sharp inhale, and then his lips were on yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn’t polished or practiced—it was a kiss powered by sheer joy, by the rush of success and the comfort of you, by everything he’d been holding back. His hands slid from your waist up to your jaw, cradling your face like he couldn’t believe this was real.

And the thing was—you didn’t stop him.

You didn’t pull away.

You kissed him back, arms looping around his shoulders, grounding him, steadying him in the middle of this ridiculous, beautiful rush.

When he finally pulled away, your faces still close, you could feel his breath fanning your lips, still uneven.

You stared at him, slightly dazed, your pulse thundering in your ears.

“…You didn’t plan that, did you?” you asked, voice half-breathless, half-amused.

Eddie gave the softest little laugh, head leaning against yours for a second as he caught his breath.

“Not even a little,” he said. “I think I blacked out after I said ‘I passed.’”

You shook your head, cheeks burning in the best way.

He grinned, wild and flushed and completely Eddie. “You’re gonna be so sick of me.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

And you didn’t even have to think about it.

Because if this—this chaotic, sweet, completely unfiltered boy—was the reward at the end of every academic achievement?

You’d tutor him forever.

“Eddie’s here,” your mom called from the hallway, her voice light and knowing.

You looked up from the mirror, heart skipping just a little.

Your dad’s voice followed a beat later from the living room. “Tell him to keep it under 60 this time.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately as you grabbed your bag. “He only sped once, and that was because we were late for grad practice.”

“He was going eighty,” your dad replied.

“It was downhill,” you said, already headed for the door.

You passed your mom in the hall, and she gave you a soft smile. “He brought flowers. Again.”

You couldn’t help the way your smile grew.

When you stepped outside, the warm air wrapped around you like a blanket. The sun was still high, the cicadas buzzing lazily in the trees, and there he was—leaning against his van like he belonged there, a bouquet of mismatched wildflowers in one hand, the other shoved into the pocket of his worn jeans.

He looked up the second he heard the screen door creak.

And you swear, even now, after everything, he still looked at you like it was the first time.

“There she is,” he said, grinning wide.

You walked up to him, arms crossing just to keep yourself from doing something embarrassing, like swooning. “What’s the occasion?”

Eddie held out the flowers. “Just celebrating the fact that I somehow tricked the universe into giving me a girlfriend this amazing.”

You rolled your eyes, taking them anyway. “You’re ridiculous.”

He leaned closer, voice low and smug. “And yet… here you are.”

You bumped his shoulder with yours, but your smile gave you away.

He opened the passenger door for you with an exaggerated bow. “M’lady.”

“Such a gentleman,” you muttered, climbing in.

As he circled the van to the driver’s side, your dad stepped out onto the porch with a glass of coffee and a suspicious glare.

Eddie gave a little wave and a crooked smile. “Sir. Swear I’ll have her back by ten. Eleven max. No stunt driving this time.”

Your dad just raised an eyebrow.

Eddie slid into the driver’s seat, shutting the door and pulling on his seatbelt. “He loves me.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” you said as he started the engine.

“So,” he said, flicking the stereo on low, “this theater just started showing Back to the Future. Two days early, somehow. I figured a little time travel with you sounded better than melting in my room watching The Evil Dead for the twelfth time.”

You laughed and gave him a look. “You just want to see the DeLorean.”

“…Okay, also that.”

He reached over and laced your fingers with his, resting your joined hands on the bench seat between you.

The van rumbled down the sunlit road, windows cracked open, the summer air carrying in the scent of grass and gasoline. Your hair danced in the breeze. Eddie hummed along to whatever cassette was playing—a little out of tune, but you didn’t mind.

Not when his thumb kept tracing slow circles over the back of your hand.

Not when the entire summer felt like it was unfolding in front of you like something sacred.

And as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, grinning like you were the best part of the world—

You thought maybe you were right where you were supposed to be.

The mall was alive with its usual symphony—chatter, synth-pop from overhead speakers, the distant ding of arcade machines, and the occasional whir of the fountain in the food court. You and Eddie split off the moment you stepped into the theater’s cool, air-conditioned lobby.

“I’m getting the tickets,” he said, already headed toward the box office.

“And I’m getting snacks,” you said before he could argue, already turning for the concession stand. “Don’t fight me on this, Munson.”

He shot you a mock glare over his shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re predictable.”

When you met back up, he handed you a single stub—he’d already torn them and given the other to the usher. You handed him a large bucket of popcorn and a cherry Icee with two straws.

Eddie blinked. “You got two straws in my Coke?”

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s our Coke now.”

His heart may have done a ridiculous little flip at that, but he just grinned and led the way inside.

The theater was dark and cool, the trailers already rolling as you found seats near the middle—close enough to feel immersed but far enough that you weren’t cranking your neck. Eddie set the popcorn between you, but you curled into his side instead, slipping your hand into the crook of his arm and resting your head gently on his shoulder.

He stilled for half a second, surprised by the contact—he never quite got used to the way you just… leaned into him like that. Like it was easy. Like it was safe.

“You comfortable?” he whispered, glancing down.

You nodded without looking up, your voice soft. “Perfect.”

When the movie began, the glow of the screen lit your faces in blues and oranges and whites. You quietly giggled at the opening scene, nudging Eddie every time something ridiculous happened—he whispered a sarcastic comment back each time, just enough to make you cover your mouth to stifle laughter.

At one point, he reached into the popcorn bucket and accidentally brushed your hand. You didn’t move away. Neither did he.

When Marty McFly first hit 1955, you leaned closer, eyes wide with wonder. Eddie didn’t say anything—just smiled a little to himself, letting you rest there, your head warm on his shoulder, your heartbeat syncing quietly with the slow, steady thrum of his.

And in the dark, surrounded by strangers and movie magic, Eddie Munson let himself imagine—just for a moment—what it might be like to have this forever.

The van rolled to a quiet stop in front of your house, headlights casting soft beams across the porch. The movie was long over and the cassette in the stereo had looped twice already.

Neither of you moved.

You glanced at Eddie with a small smile, fingers nervously picking at the edge of your sleeve. “Thanks for tonight. I had fun.”

He turned toward you, his hand resting on the steering wheel. “Yeah? Me too. That was…” He looked at you like he was still a little surprised this was real. “That was a good night.”

You both laughed at how underwhelming that sounded.

“I mean—great night,” he amended, mock-dramatic. “One for the ages.”

You shook your head, biting your lip to hide your smile. “Come on, rockstar. Walk me to the door?”

Eddie hopped out first and came around the van, opening your door like he always did—even when you rolled your eyes at him for it. The night air was warm but quieter now, the street still and bathed in porchlight glow. You walked side by side up the driveway, close enough that your arms brushed.

At the bottom step, you turned to face him.

Eddie scratched the back of his neck, shifting on his feet like he wanted to say something more but couldn’t find the words. “I, uh… hope this wasn’t too boring. You know the mall and a movie isn’t exactly my usual scene.”

You shook your head. “I loved it. And… I like seeing different sides of you.”

That got a smile out of him. A real one. Small, warm, a little shy.

You stood there for another beat, the silence stretching out but never uncomfortable. Just full—like both of you were hoping time would slow down.

“Well…” you started, tilting your head toward the door.

“Yeah,” he said. “Guess this is—”

You kissed him.

Soft and certain. You leaned in first, lips brushing his with the kind of ease that only came with practice and care. He melted into it instantly, one hand slipping to your waist, the other steadying him against the railing like the whole world had narrowed down to just this.

When you finally pulled away, your noses were still almost touching.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” you whispered.

He blinked, dazed. “Goodnight.”

You stepped inside with a smile still tugging at your lips, and the second you closed the door behind you—

“That was quite the kiss.”

You jumped. Your mom was standing in the kitchen, sipping tea with your dad, both of them clearly having witnessed the entire thing from the window.

“Did he trip over the step again?” your dad asked casually. “He always does that when he’s nervous.”

You groaned. “You two seriously have nothing better to do?”

Your mom just smirked, eyes twinkling. “We like seeing you happy.”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks burning, but you couldn’t stop the grin from breaking through.

Because yeah… you were happy.

Dating Eddie Munson is nothing like you expected—and everything you didn’t know you needed.

It’s loud music in his van, the kind that rattles the floorboards and makes you laugh when he drums on the steering wheel like the world’s watching. It’s his leather jacket slung over your shoulders when the air turns cold, his rings cool against your skin when he reaches for your hand. It’s messy hair, wild ideas, and the way he always walks on the outside of the sidewalk, like it means something.

It’s learning to love the chaos, and realizing that under all that noise and bravado, Eddie’s just… gentle. Thoughtful. Unbelievably loyal.

Dating Eddie is getting a cassette made just for you—your name scribbled on the label, each song chosen because it reminds him of you. It’s him sitting beside you while you paint, trying not to move too much even though he’s definitely itching to fidget. It’s him reading the comics you lend him, even the weird ones, just so he can talk to you about them later.

It’s milkshakes and movie nights and the kind of laughter that makes your chest hurt. It’s long drives with no destination, arms dangling out the window, his voice carrying through the breeze as he sings along—terribly—to some over-the-top power ballad.

It feels like a plot twist Eddie Munson never saw coming.

He thought he knew how his story would go—misunderstood metalhead, high school dropout, maybe famous one day if he got lucky. But then you happened. And now every chapter feels rewritten.

It’s surreal, honestly.

You—who used to feel so out of reach—actually laugh at his stupid impressions and roll your eyes in that way that kills him, but never walk away. You sit next to him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You hold his hand like you mean it. That alone blows his mind.

It’s the way you look at him like he's not some town freak. Like he’s not a rumor or a punchline or a lost cause.

Like he’s enough.

He'll go to every goddamn mall just to see you smile under neon lights, taking photos in a booth he secretly keeps in his wallet, and pretending not to blush when your head rests on his shoulder during a movie.

Dating you, to Eddie, feels like finding out the world isn’t as cruel as he thought it was.

It’s not always easy. He still worries he’s not good enough for you, that you’ll wake up one day and see what everyone else says they see. But you never flinch. You just keep showing up. Keep choosing him.

And he’d burn down the whole world just to deserve you a little more.

Yeah. Dating you?

It’s the best damn thing that’s ever happened to him.

[lil-quinnie]

PLEEEEASE GIMME MOREEEEEEEEEE

Lotus Eater | chapter 5 - 4.2k words

my main masterlist - eddie masterlist - series masterlist

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summary: you needed way more money than initially thought to fix your car. so, you work through thanksgiving break. but not without eddie trying to ruin your groove and make you actually have fun.

warnings: slow burn, 18+ mdni, bullying, discussions about drugs, eating food?, eddie is fully flirting, reader isn't picking it up at all (or is she HA), mention of reader’s terrible parents, drinking alcohol, mentions of hellfire being weird with reader, gareth is kinda pushy but not without eddie keeping a close eye on him, jokes about religion and summoning satan, reader gets pretty drunk, forced proximity.

a/n: thank you to all the love y'all have given this fic!! i love writing it!! this one was so cutesy to write!

After the Kacey incident, Eddie was practically attached to your hip. You were not aware at first, simply just continuing conversations in the hallways when you arrived at school. Walking to class together because the rooms were across from one another. He was always just there.

But rumors were easy to pass along in the halls, and your former best friend was adamant about convincing the entire school that you two were a thing. It bothered you, but not in a way that you could pinpoint.

You had never been linked to a guy at school before. You never had a boyfriend or a guy that you would hook up with. You spent most of high school avoiding the guys you had crushes on and now you were forever associated with the one guy you actively dodged most of high school. And for some perplexing reason, it did not eat away at you. Being around Eddie was convenient and in some fucked up way, comforting.

When Eddie brought the rumors up to you one day after school, you told him you did not like the thought that people could not let the opposite sexes be strictly friends. He giggled, telling you it was pretty intolerant and dense of people, but you should not fret too much. 

“You are more worried about that and not the fact that people think you’re dating me, the Freak?”

Your lip quirked as you shook your head, “Oh trust me, I’m worried about that, too. I just didn’t want to make you upset. I committed social suicide the moment I arrived at school with you two months ago.”

His nose scrunched, his cheeks rising as he smiled, “You wound me, sunshine.”

-

The diner was buzzing with people. It was the first day of Thanksgiving break, which meant former locals coming in to order their favorite comfort food and the normal customers coming in to bother you about your Thanksgiving plans. You do not have any currently. If you are lucky, you will be the only one in the house and you could make yourself some instant mashed potatoes. 

In the midst of your daydreams of creamy potatoes, you watch a familiar van pull up into the busy parking lot. 

You roll your eyes immediately, knowing Eddie would only distract you from helping your two four tops. You position yourself near the kitchen, watching him, Jeff, and Gareth pour into the establishment. They are laughing loudly, disturbing the peace the moment they enter. You cannot imagine something is that funny. 

Eddie always has a way of finding you. His eyes immediately meet yours as he slips into a booth right next to your other tables. He has layered his denim vest over his hodge-podge leather jacket. You had added two new safety pins on the sleeve of that thing this past week alone. He would not let it go.

You groan dramatically as you pull out your notepad and pen. 

He has this shit-eating grin plastered on his face, his eyes playfully scanning your waitress uniform. It should make you feel insecure, like when every other man checks you out in your uniform, but you know Eddie is concocting some stupid jab at you.

He puts a toothpick between his teeth, rolling it back and forth. 

You did not want to admit to yourself the number of times you found yourself admiring the guy over the last couple of weeks. Your intuition was simply to push those feelings down and continue with your annoyed temperament with him. It was much easier than letting those thoughts creep in. 

“What can I get you guys today?” You ask, your body directed at Gareth and Jeff as they fuck with the menus.

“Coke,” Jeff says, matter-of-factly.

“Coke, please,” Gareth orders, emphasizing his pleasantries. 

You can always feel when Eddie’s looking at you. His big brown eyes practically pierce through your skin, “What are the specials, sweetheart?”

You lull your head back, snapping it back to finally look at him. You did not want to entertain his antics, but you had an audience with Jeff and Gareth, “Lima beans.”

Eddie’s nose scrunches, still shifting that toothpick around between his lips. “Really?”

You shake your head, placing your hands on your hips. That makes Eddie’s eyes roam down again. You know he wants to make a joke about your outfit so bad.

“No, Eddie.”

Jeff giggles at your condescending tone, all the while Gareth is still fiddling with the menu and not really paying attention. You break into a small smirk, eyeing Eddie with raised brows. 

He looks at his friends, then you, then his friends, then you again. He looks puzzled, playing up his completely oblivious act.

“Well then?” His voice rises as he pulls the toothpick out of his mouth. You watch his hand rest on the table next to the menu, his pointer and thumb rotating it. You are so fixated on his hand that you have completely forgotten the topic of conversation. When he repeats your name, you finally look back up at him. He has this knowing expression on his face like he caught you in the act. “The specials?”

In the most monotone voice, you recite the same thing you have said to all the tables you have had all day, “$5 open-faced turkey platter. With fries and gravy.”

He nods immediately, putting the toothpick back in his mouth. “I’ll take that, sunshine.”

“Gravy over the fries, okay?” You jot down on your pad, scribbling something that is not even legible to you. 

“Smother them suckers,” Eddie jokes, his voice deepening. 

“And what do you want to drink?”

He thinks for a beat, “Any drink specials?”

“Cool, so you’re actually getting a water.”

-

Your other tables leave you a combined $10 tip. No too bad, but for having to deal with their badly behaved children for an hour and a half, you were expecting a little bit more. 

You deliver Eddie’s food as soon as it is in the window. The evening has slowed down some and you have already done most of your sidework, so you nudge Eddie with your knee as soon as you place Gareth’s plate down in front of him. “Scoot. Need to get off my feet for a minute.”

He happily obliges, moving over in the booth to give you a place to sit. You sigh, leaning your head against the padded back. 

“What are you doing after you get off?” He asks, grabbing a smothered fry and devouring it in one bite. You look outside at the sun setting and shrug. You never had plans and Eddie knew this.

“My mom is supposed to be picking me up,” You explain, tilting your head so you are looking at him. He eats every meal like it’s his last and this is no exception. You never found the diner’s food that groundbreaking, everything mainly being carb overload, but Eddie eats it like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. When he brings his fingers up to lick the excess gravy, you feel your mouth go dry.

“And after that?” He interrupts your thought process, his eyelashes fluttering towards you.

You huff, “Bed.”

He and the guys both wince and groan at your response. You look between them, trying to act like they are the crazy ones. What was wrong with going to bed after a long shift?

“It’s a Friday night, sunshine. Why don’t you come to the kickback with us?” Eddie proposes, dropping his water cup a bit too hard on the table.

“Kickback?”

You had never been invited to do something like that and you were not keen on exploring what the Hellfire Club’s kickback would look like. You imagine it involved a lot of marijuana and alcohol, two things you were not particularly fond of. And while over the last month, you have been able to hold more conversations with the guys, you were not excited at the prospect of being around them while they were intoxicated.

Eddie nods matter-of-factly, “Yeah, Gareth’s parents are out of town. We are going to his house to smoke and hang out by the fire.”

Gareth speaks up with his mouth full of burger, “We are burning palettes.”

Like that was going to change your mind for some reason.

You grumble, trying to act very interested, “Sounds like fun for a bunch of losers who aren’t working.”

As you say it, an older couple comes in and sits in your recently cleaned booth nearby. Duty always calls at inconvenient times. You stand up while the boys snicker at your retort. Eddie rolls his eyes, grabbing your arm before you can walk away.

“Come on. Live a little. You work too hard,” He pleads, his bottom lip jutted out. You have to work tomorrow at noon, so it would not hurt to go. It was just not in your nature to entertain a party of sorts with the rest of the crew. Any after-school activities were always a no-go. Unless it was Eddie taking you home, of course.

You shake your head, trying to get him to see your side. “I get off at 10. I will be tired.”

“I’ll make sure you get home by 1. How’s that?”

He’s not giving up, but you’re not giving in. You are too set on being able to curl up in bed with your favorite book and get some early shut-eye. 

“I’ll pass,” You turn away, heading to your next table, “You guys enjoy.”

-

Of course, your mom does not show up when you get off. 

You stand at the pay phone, tapping your foot anxiously. Your legs cannot stop moving, having no protection from the elements. When the home phone continues to ring without a pickup, you slam it back on the receiver. 

Unreal. But it's not shocking. 

You almost decide to start walking home in the crisp autumn air, but instead, you spot a recognizable hunk of metal parked at the mini-mart across the street. Better than walking miles and miles in the darkness.

You curse your mother the whole time, stomping into the store with your oversized windbreaker swishing around. You see him and Jeff at the beer cooler, grabbing a couple six six-packs. Once Jeff catches your eye, Eddie turns around with a curious look painted across his face. It relaxes the moment he sees you. A hint of concern and understanding of the situation spreads across his face when he notices your disheveled appearance. 

“Didn’t show?” He asks simply, tucking the 6 pack under his arm. You scrunch your nose, placing your hand on your hips. After two months, Eddie is pretty well versed in how much your parents let you down. Neither of you needs to elaborate in these situations. Eddie just nods, disguising his annoyance towards your own mother. You look at Jeff and he is standing there observing you two like you are telepathically speaking to each other. 

He turns to the guy, handing him a twenty-dollar bill and the other 6 pack. “Check out and we will catch you outside.”

You watch the guy struggle to grab all the things from Eddie, somehow managing everything in his arms. You are not sure why Eddie is practically escorting you outside, his arm hovering over your shoulders to usher you to his van. 

“You want me to take you home or are you down to hang out with us for a bit?” 

Your head cranes up at him. You felt bad because you were pretty sure Gareth’s house was literally a hop and a skip from where you were, as opposed to the 10-minute drive to your house. Not wanting to inconvenience Eddie any more than you already were, you give in. Finally. 

“I can hang out.”

The smile that takes over his face is genuine and a bit wicked. “Atta girl. I knew you’d wanna hang with the cool kids outside of school eventually.”

You cannot lie, his praise makes butterflies scatter in the pit of your stomach. You know it’s just a passive statement, so your eyes roll to the back of your skull,  “All it took was me being stranded somewhere with only one person to come save me.”

He places his hand on your shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze, “I’ll always come save you, sunshine.”

-

Eddie is never pushy, but his friends surely are. Especially Gareth. 

When you arrive at his house, you take note of the middle-class life the kid leads. Two car garage, a large living room, and an even bigger backyard. Sprawling with trees that have shedded most of their leaves. When Gareth spots you, his eyes light up in excitement. 

“I thought you weren’t coming,” He says, shoving a beer into your hand. You were not planning on drinking, but you grabbed the bottle anyway. You can feel Eddie’s eyes lock on to you two even though Grant is ranting about whatever new grievance he had today. 

Gareth grabs the neck of the bottle in your hand and pops the top for you as you mumble through an explanation. “Mom didn’t show. Eddie to the rescue, per usual.”

He smiles as he clicks off his own bottle top, “Well, I’m glad you’re here nonetheless.”

Out of all the guys, Gareth’s interest in you was the most obvious. At least, that’s what you thought. You could always be reading the signs wrong. He was always slinging compliments at you, checking you out as you sat down at the lunch table, asking you questions about yourself when everyone else seemed too afraid to. You never fully entertained him, but sometimes you would shoot him a brighter smile than usual or compliment a button on his jean jacket. 

“Thanks for having me,” You reply, cheering your beer to him. 

That’s when you note his eyes raking down your body. He had not looked at you like this earlier, so it must be the multiple beers he had before you showed up. You were surprised by the obvious display and due to it being painfully awkward, you took a swig of the beer. You instantly wince at the flavor, wanting to gag it back up. 

“You’re drinking?” Eddie taps your arm, grabbing your attention away from the curly-headed weirdo in front of you. You take another sip, hoping it would be better the second time. Nope. 

“I guess so,” You move towards him, trying to get out of the way of the other boys carrying large palettes towards the fire. “I’ll need at least one watching these idiots set these things on fire.”

-

You have more than one. Because after one, Gareth asks if you need another. And due to the effects of the first drink making you feel lighter, you say yes. Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he does not reprimand you. He’s never one to tell you what to do.

You and Eddie have found some plastic chairs near the fire, laughing amongst each other as the guys jokingly act like they are starting a summoning circle around the flames. Between them loudly chanting fake Latin and blundering some random Catholic prayer, you and Eddie are practically in tears as you drink your beers. 

You never expected you would ever be here, but in your tipsy little brain, you are so glad you took the chance and came. Your mom’s failure turned out for the better. No thanks to her, plenty of thanks to Eddie. 

And talking to Eddie was easier. Honestly easier than Kacey before the drugs. He guided the conversation so seamlessly, never prying when it was serious, and only ever taking a joke too far when he was in a group setting to get some extra laughs. 

Everyone eventually calms down, sitting around the fire and sharing random stories. You already feel quite fragile, so once Grant starts telling ghost stories, you know it’s time to wrap up your time with everyone. 

You look down at Eddie’s hand, perfectly propped up on the arm of his chair. You tilt his watch towards you to check the time. 

1:04 am. 

“I should get home,” You say, tilting the remainder of your beer into your mouth. You have not even tried standing up yet, but the moment you do, it’s like you are walking on a tightrope. Eddie’s quick to catch on to it, too, standing up and grabbing your arm to balance you. His rings feel colder than usual. 

He giggles as you try to hold your arms out and find some sort of stabilization, “You’re pretty drunk.”

His hand is still on your forearm. You look up at him, trying to gauge if he is sober enough to drive. The bloodshot eyes and relaxed shoulders tell you that he’s not. 

“Yeah, so are you.”

His eyes soften towards you. There’s a shift in the air and somehow, the other guys catch onto it. Gareth is the first to slice through the silence. 

“Y’all can crash here,” He advises, tilting his beer towards his house. The idea that you would stay in the same house as 5 other guys was insane. You never had many sleepovers in the first place, let alone as the only girl. 

You are quick to shut it down, “No, that’s fine.”

“I got some clothes you can wear,” Gareth ignores your rejection, standing up from his chair and stumbling a bit towards you. You start to feel this unexpected panic like you are going to be stuck here with just Gareth. 

“No, I’m fine.”

Eddie’s hand wrapping around yours takes you off guard. Somehow, in some strange way, you feel your heart rate start to slow back down. His big brown eyes are always fairly reassuring, “Gareth has a guest room, sunshine. Lemme get you set up in there. Come on.”

“Eddie-“

“I will take you home in the morning. Promise,” He says earnestly, his thumb brushing across your knuckle. You squeeze his fingers, reluctantly agreeing. As long as he’s staying with you, you feel a bit more secure in this drunken decision. 

-

“I am good on the couch, Eddie.”

Eddie reenters the last room on the left. He had left you to get changed in some clothes Gareth had lent you. 

The room is right across from Gareth’s but it’s a bit smaller. You had peeked in his space when he was digging through his drawers trying to find some clothes you could wear. The bed in your room is a queen and takes up most of the square footage. But it’s very comfy with a mountain of pillows on top. As desirable as the spot was, you felt bad for the other guys who would be sleeping on the area rug in the living room or on Gareth’s dirty laundry that occupied his floor. 

Eddie shakes his head, smiling at the baggy sweatpants you are now sporting and the Hawkins P.E. t-shirt,, “No you’re not. Lay down. I’ll get you more blankets.”

You watch him pull open the closet near the door. You can tell he’s trying to accommodate you, but you are already a bit overstimulated.

“Eddie-“

He throws a blanket your way, halting you from continuing whatever shit you were about to talk to him, “Stop saying my name. Let me help you.”

“I don’t want help,” You demand, tossing the blanket onto the bed. You slightly change the weight onto your other foot, but you feel your knee buckle a bit. The alcohol makes your body practically feel like jello. 

He giggles at the way you practically tilt horizontally on the flat hardwood, “You never do but I still want to.”

Your eyes burn into his for a second. He tilts his head, revealing his Adam’s apple bobbing. You lose the topic of the conversation immediately. “Want to what?”

Your drunken mind makes those thoughts creep in even more. Sitting around the fire earlier, you realized you really enjoyed the sight of Eddie’s squinty laugh. He only does it on rare occasions, but when he does, you cannot help the wide grin that creeps across your face. Eyes completely closed, head thrown back, and his carrying cackle. You also took notice of the way his lips curl inward when he is listening intently to someone. Occasionally his tongue gets caught between his teeth when he’s really focused on something, like messing with the fire poke. 

“Help you, sunshine.”

“You’re always helping me,” You explain as you pull the blankets off the bed back. The sheets looked silky, much more improved than the old stained sheets on your springy bed. “You take me to school. You let me sit with you and occasionally steal an orange from you. You take me home from school. You save me from being stranded at work. You do too much helping.”

He just smiles, helping you settle into the bed. He pulls another blanket on top of you, jokingly laying it over your face. You pull it away instantly, shooting him a faux annoyed face.

“You comfy?” He asks, looking down at you like you are a little kid he is tucking into bed. 

Your displeased expression fades, settling into an at-ease one, “Yeahhhh..”

He giggles at that, slowly creeping backward towards the door. For some reason, that familiar nervousness starts to bubble in the pit of your stomach. A feeling only he made go away by being close to you earlier around the fire. 

“Okay,” He whispers, tilting his head towards you, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You sit up straight in the bed, pulling the covers over your chest as you do, “Wait!”

It was a stupid thought, but it etched its way into your brain. You could not stop it.

His eyebrows shoot up, “Yeah?”

“Where are you sleeping?”

“Why?” He presses with an even more confused air to his voice. 

You feel like an idiot almost immediately. You wanted him near you. You do not know why. Maybe it was being an unfamiliar space and he’s the only person you really knew. 

But that would be admitting that you like having him around. You were not too sure you wanted him to know that.

“Because I want to know,” You try to sound obvious, but your voice cracks a bit. You clear it before continuing, “In case I need to find you.”

The sly smirk that creeps across his face makes you want to crawl under the blankets and never come out. “Why would you need to find me?”

“If I have a nightmare,” Another lie and he knows it. You know it, for fucks sake. “I don’t know Eddie, just cause!”

The latter half of the ‘explanation‘ gets him. He steps towards the door frame, leaning against it with this arrogance only Eddie could pull off, “Probably on the couch.”

“Why don’t you sleep in here?”

He is surely not expecting you to say it. You do not even know where it came from. It was the alcohol. The smell of clean sheets. The fluffiness of the feathered pillows. 

He points a finger gun at you, his shift in demeanor feigning awkwardness. “Because you are sleeping in here.”

All you could do was double down. Your brain truly gave you no other choice.

“It’s a queen size bed, Eddie.”

His eyebrows raise under his frizzy bangs. He leans forward towards you, then back, shooting a glance down the hallway. It’s almost like he’s checking to see if the coast is clear. You can hear the other boys stumbling in, being loud and rambunctious as they set up the living room to sleep. 

You can see the wheels turning in his head, “Why do you want me to sleep with you?”

“Not sleep with me. Sleep next to me,” You had to correct, wanting to make sure that this was all it was. His presence is close to you. Not… inside you.

You had never really craved a guy’s attention like you craved Eddie’s. While it was not something you really wanted to explore, you knew that it was still something. You had never been intimate with another person, only kissing a boy named Greg in 7th grade, simply for a dare. You were inexperienced in wanting someone. 

Did you want Eddie? 

You could not. You will not. 

He pulls you out of your conflicted expression, giggling as he sulks towards you. He kicks the door with his foot slightly, hinging it shut, “I am a snuggler, sweetheart. You don’t want to sleep next to me.”

Eddie holding you sounds like a dream. Like a dream that you are not sure you want to have. 

You imagine it in your brain before you speak up, a small smirk morphing across your lips. His tattooed arms sliding across your waist, holding you taut with his warm chest. It fills your entire being with a sense of calm. When your mind turns into imagining him on the couch, too far away for comfort, it feels like a jab to your heart. 

“I’m drunk enough to let it slide.”

dividers from @/saradika-graphics

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@littlemissholy @jeangeniex @heart-eye-love @thelastemzy @katsfandomcorner @itmightbehayley @cowboylikemunson @amanitacowboy

[lil-quinnie]

I woke up missing Eddie today 😪

Send me fica please

[lil-quinnie]

Eddie Munson x Henderson!Sister Reader

Part 10

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Chapter Index | Masterlist

Summary: You loved him so much you had to let him go so he could pursue his dreams. But years later after Robin, Steve, and your brother score tickets to a Corroded Coffin concert being held nearby, you take a chance and tag along. After all, it was a big venue and there’s no way Eddie would be able to pick you out in the crowd, right?

Content Warning: This fic will contain strong language, explicit sexual themes, mentions of alcohol and drugs, brief mention of sickness for those with Emetophobia (but not descriptive). I will update this as needed!

A/N: This chapter is a bit longer than others but uh, it's for good reason! This chapter is NSFW so take that as you will! As always, thank you so incredibly much for all of the sweet comments and messages! Please let me know if you wish to be added or removed from the taglist ♥ Enjoy and happy reading, my loves!

Wayne glanced over at his nephew as he, once again, sat flicking his lighter. This time he was in the passenger seat of Wayne’s beat up truck (that he refused to let Eddie replace with a shinier model) on the way to Eddie’s early morning doctor’s appointment. 

“I recall a few months ago I told you I was gonna break your damn hand if you kept flicking that lighter.” He grumbled and quickly Eddie’s hand disappeared into the pocket of his denim vest, “What’s got you so antsy today?” 

“Just…nothing, don’t worry about it.” Eddie mumbled as he pulled his lighter back out but accompanied by his pack of cigarettes this time. 

“Now I know you’re not grating on my nerves for ‘nothin’.” Wayne said as he held his hand out and Eddie placed a cigarette and the lighter in his palm after lighting his own. He inhaled deeply and cracked the window just as he exhaled, watching the smoke as it was violently sucked out into the chilly November air. 

“Just got stuff on my mind.” he said and Wayne cracked a grin as he pulled into the parking lot and brought the old tired truck to a stop. 

“Someone, you mean?” He killed the engine and patted his pockets to check for his own cigarettes and wallet before stepping out of the truck and walking around to Eddie’s side. He grabbed the crutches out of the back as the scowling  twenty-five year old pushed the truck door open. 

“Stop reading my mind, Wayne. It got old when I was a teenager, it’s old now.” he huffed as he took the crutches and slowly slid himself out of the seat. 

“I don’t have to read your mind when it’s written all over your face, boy.” Wayne laughed as they started towards the door of the Orthopedic office. Wayne held the door open for his nephew and went and found a seat at the back of the office while Eddie got himself checked in. 

“Guess I gotta work on my poker face around you.” Eddie said as he settled down into the chair and stretched his leg out. He couldn’t wait to get this damn cast off. It itched all the time and honestly he was tired of his limited mobility with it on. 

“So you two just friends now or are you two finally mending things?” Wayne asked as he picked up a medical magazine and started flipping through the pages with little interest in its actual contents. 

“We’re friends again. At least, I think we are.” Eddie said as he leaned his head back to rest against the pale yellow wallpaper. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as the memories of the past few weeks came flooding back. Shortly after your confession you two had found yourselves gravitating back to each other.

It started off with Eddie making excuses to stay in the kitchen while you were cooking, or helping to put folded towels and linens away for you while you took care of the clothes. You would turn the radio on and he would find himself singing along with you to whatever was playing, whether he liked the music or not, because he enjoyed the smile on your face as you two worked. Laundry moved on to helping dry dishes as you washed and rinse, Eddie’s watchful gaze on you as you moved around the kitchen to put them away in their rightful places. 

Housework slowly and cautiously turned into him asking to accompany you to the store on one of your weekly grocery trips. Soon, every Saturday morning he found himself awake and dressed and waiting in the living room where he had a view of the driveway. He was up, crutches tucked under his arms and heading out the front door before you could even make it to the bottom of the porch steps. Dustin had mentioned once in a Hellfire meeting about Eddie taking his place and had asked if it was because of the extra groceries on the bill that never made it to the Munson’s. 

“I don’t care about that, Henderson. I caught on forever ago.” Eddie laughed as he grabbed another slice of pizza from the box sitting off to the side of the table, “I’m just really enjoying going with her.”

“Oooo, Eddie and Y/N, sittin’ in a tree!” Erica, Lucas’ younger sister, teased from the opposite end of the table. 

Eddie had tried to hush the group and pull their attention back to the game that night as they all joined in on the teasing but his burning blush on his cheeks kept the laughter and jokes fueled for the remainder of the evening. It was true though. On trips to the store Eddie found the two of you moving slowly up and down every aisle, the quiet of the grocery store only broken by the music playing over the speakers and the rhythmic taps of Eddie’s crutches on the tiled floor. He treasured these Saturday mornings but was afraid that maybe you were becoming suffocated by his constant presence. Your last trip to the store together as you waited in line side by side at the check out he cleared his throat to ask when you surprised him by suddenly but gently leaning your head over to rest against his shoulder. His heart felt like it was going to hammer straight out of his chest as he tried to find something, anything, to say to fill the silence. Instead though, out of fear he would stumble over his words and mess up the moment, he only smiled and let his head tilt in your direction to rest against the top of your own. He didn’t see the smile that lit up your face but he felt the slight shift as you let your body press ever so slightly closer to his.   

 Weekly dinners at the Munson’s also became a more frequent event. Instead of staying only for dinner on Saturdays after you two shopped and then you spent the day prepping meals for Wayne for the week, Eddie had asked you to start staying on the days you came over to tidy and clean as well. A few evenings it was just the two of you as Wayne still worked the night shift at the factory, though Eddie had managed to talk him down to part time to ease the stress off of his aging Uncle after Wayne refused outright to quit entirely. You had happily obliged to eat dinner and Eddie was happy to spend time petting Honeybee and throwing her favorite tennis ball from where he sat on the porch, leg propped up on a cushioned stool, as he waited. If the weather was nice you would serve dinner outside until it started to turn too cold for Wayne’s old bones to handle.

“Can you play your new song for me?” You had blurted out one night, Eddie nearly dropping the plate he was drying as he looked over at you with an eyebrow raised, “I heard you talking to Gareth on the phone last week about working on new music while you’ve been healing. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but…I would really love to hear it, if that’s okay?” 

After getting over his surprise (and giddiness of your interest) you had followed him to his room where he was quick to grab his guitar and get himself situated in the chair next to his amp. He could barely get through the song he had been diligently writing because he was infatuated with your excited smile as you sat cross-legged on his bed and watched him play. 

That night the two of you became inseparable. You and Honeybee found yourself over at Wayne’s every day, each night after dinner ending with some form of dessert you’d managed to whip up for them and a movie that stretched into the late hours of the evening. You both would start off on separate ends of the couch with Honeybee laid out on the floor with a chew toy or snoozing with Wayne kicked back in his Lazy Boy if he was home. By the time you had reached the middle of the movie, without fail, Wayne was always asleep and you and Eddie had migrated closer and closer until your thighs were pressed together and his arm was stretched across the back of the couch. You were always tucked in against him, eyelids heavy with fatigue from the day and fought not to drift off to sleep as you felt Eddie’s fingers start to play with strands of your hair. 

“You’re smiling an awful lot.” Wayne said and pulled Eddie from his welcoming thoughts. 

“Just…yeah, we’re friends again.” Eddie said before the door opened and a smiling nurse with a clipboard in hand cleared her throat. 

“Edward Munson? Ready to get out of that cast?”

* * * * * * * * *

“Look at you!” You said with delight as you stepped into Wayne’s kitchen, a paper grocery sack balanced on your hip as Eddie stood and hobbled (without crutches) to meet you, “You got your boot!” 

“Few months with this bad boy and physical therapy and I will be like new!” he exclaimed proudly and placed his fists on his sides in a superhero pose. You squealed excitedly and set the groceries down on the table to wrap your arms around him in a tight hug. 

“I’m so happy for you!” 

“Y/N! Are you gonna help?” Dustin called from the front door and you giggled as you stepped back from Eddie. 

“Hey, wait a minute, we go shopping on Saturday, it’s Friday.” Eddie said as he raised a playfully suspicious eyebrow, “Am I being fired from being your assistant?”

“No, you dork.” You laughed as you moved the grocery bag to the kitchen island, “I needed a few cleaning supplies and some things for dinner this evening that I forgot to get last trip.” 

“Y/N!”

“Coming!” You called over your shoulder and quickly placed a kiss on Eddie’s cheek, “Rest your leg, you’re still healing.” With a pat to his arm you hurried off to the driveway. 

“Just friends my ass.” Wayne huffed as he moved to start unpacking the groceries as Eddie opened the pantry and caught a can of vegetables tossed towards him.

“We’re just friends, Wayne.” 

“You two look like you did back in high school again.” 

“We’re just taking it slow.” Another can was tossed and Eddie was quick to catch it and put it in its place on one of the shelves.

“Eddie, I've seen the way you live life and your driving record. Slow is not a concept you grasp.” Wayne said just before the phone started ringing and he disappeared into the living room, “Munson residence. Oh, yeah, hang on. Eds! For you!” 

Eddie shuffled to the living room as you and Dustin stepped through the door to finish bringing groceries inside. 

“Eddie.” He said as he placed the receiver to his ear. 

“Munson! How ya doin’ man?” 

“Hey, Buck.” Eddie leaned back onto the arm of the couch to take the weight off his still healing foot and glanced up to where he could see you moving around the kitchen, laughing and smiling as you spoke to Wayne and Dustin. 

“Sorry I haven’t called in about two weeks to check up on ya, I’ve been busy with the rest of the band. How’s the leg? Have you got your boot yet?”

“Just got it today.” He answered and returned your smile when you looked over at him and caught him staring. 

* * * * * * * * * *

You kept looking over at Eddie as he spoke, watching the way he fidgeted as he began to grow more restless as the conversation continued. A slight frown pulled at the corners of your mouth as he presented his tell tale signs of agitation and discomfort. 

“What’s wrong?” Dustin whispered and you shook your head as you turned your attention back to where you were setting ingredients down to get into the crock pot for dinner that evening. 

“I don’t know.” You whispered back, “But he doesn’t look too happy.” 

“Oh, I forgot to tell ya I won’t be here tonight.” Wayne said as he pulled out a fresh carton of cigarettes from one of the grocery bags and thanked you before continuing, “Roger’s truck broke down and he wants some help fixing it. Figured we’ll be workin’ and drinkin’ and I’ll be too far gone to drive home.” 

“Oh! That’s fine I’ll put leftovers in the fridge for you so that you have it for dinner tomorrow.” You answered and turned to Dustin, “What about you, little brother? You gonna hang out with us for dinner tonight?” 

“I would but I already promised Will and Mike that we’d grab Lucas and hit the arcade and the diner.” 

“I hope you guys have fun then, tell them I said hello.” 

“Will do! Mike should be here any moment to pick me up.” 

Shortly after your conversation finished you watched as Eddie returned the receiver back to its cradle and ran his hands down his face before running them back up and into his curly mane. Dustin and Wayne had started a conversation of their own, one you weren’t even paying attention to, so you stepped away and moved to the troubled man in the living room. 

“Hey.” You said softly as you placed your hand tenderly on his arm and caused him to jump from surprise, “What’s wrong?” 

Instead of answering you right away he sighed and placed a hand on your arm to give it a firm but gentle squeeze before giving in and pulling you against him. He needed the comfort right now, “That was our manager.” 

“Buck?”

“Yeah.” 

You felt your heart fall to the pit of your stomach as you looked up to search his crestfallen eyes, “You’re leaving.” 

“Tomorrow afternoon. Gareth is taking a red eye flight tonight apparently and is gonna fly back with me.” He answered and stood to his full height, “According to Buck we have a lot to catch up on and he wants to start putting in work on new music. He’s already gotten interviews lined up, meet and greets, and television appearances.” 

“You’re gonna be really busy then.” You said as you tried to hide the sadness in your voice. 

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. I’m hoping it’s only a few weeks, maybe just a month or two if I’m lucky.” 

“Oh.” You said simply, swallowing hard as you blinked back threatening tears, “Well, let me go get dinner started so we can actually eat at a decent time tonight, okay? That way you can be well rested for your travels tomorrow.” 

Eddie nodded but not before pulling you to him to place a reassuring kiss on the top of your head. You smiled and he saw the sadness behind it, the tears threatening to overflow, but he knew you needed this time to process the news. 

He felt so spoiled by being with you so much and now it was getting ripped away from both of you. 

He walked slowly down the hallway but felt victorious as he did it without crutches this time and pulled his suitcase out from under his bed to begin packing. 

By dinner time Wayne and Dustin had both left and had promised to be back in the morning to see Eddie off at the airport before his departure. You sat across from Eddie at the table but neither one of you had much of an appetite. He watched you push a noodle from your beef stroganoff around your nearly full plate and he reached across the table to put his hand on yours. 

“Come on.” He said after you looked up, your eye lashes still damp, “Let’s put this away and go watch a movie together, okay? Your choice.” 

“Okay.” You answered quietly. You two moved in a comfortable silence as you cleaned up for the last time together. After dinner was packed away you were grabbing drinks and Eddie grabbed the movie you asked for. He popped it into the VCR and shut off the lights as you grabbed the blanket the both of you always ended up sharing. This time you went ahead and sat side by side on the couch, his arm already around you and his fingers running through your hair. He propped his leg up on the coffee table with a pillow already under it to cushion against the hard wood.

You tried to focus on the movie, you really did, but the smell of Eddie’s cologne, the closeness of his body, the way his fingers moved through your hair, it all was constant reminders that for God knew how long this was going to be the last time. You felt your throat start to constrict again as a lump formed and tears started to burn in your eyes. 

“Shit.” You whimpered quietly and brought your hands up to press the heel of your palms against your eyes. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Eddie asked as he sat up straight and turned his body to get a better view of you, “Hey, hey, don’t cry.” He gently pulled your hands away from your face and placed his finger under your chin to face him. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just a little emotional.” You said softly and he pushed a lock of hair behind your ear, “I’m so spoiled rotten by spending every day with you and you’re gonna be gone and my life will go back to normal. To boring.” 

“I’ll be back, I promise.” he tried to reassure you and you shrugged. 

“I know you will but you don’t know when.” Another tear escaped and he used the pad of his thumb to wipe it away as he cupped your cheek, “I’m sorry I’m being so selfish.” You moved to pull away but he pulled you back and pressed his forehead to yours. 

“You’re allowed to be selfish from time to time, you know that, right?” He murmured and gave you a sad smile of his own as you pulled your head back enough to look up at him. Your hand came up to rest over the one still cradling your face before you nuzzled your cheek into it. 

“You promise to come back home? To come back to me?” You asked and Eddie felt his heart stumble over itself in excitement at your words. You were gonna wait for him this time. You weren’t walking away. 

“You’ll be the first one I run to when I get off that plane.” He answered as his other hand moved to rest against the back of your neck, “I promise with everything in me.” 

“I’m going to miss you so fucking much, Eddie Munson.” You sniffled and saw his quick intake of breath as his eyes dropped to your lips before looking back up into your own. 

“C-can…” He choked out before having to clear his throat, “Can I-?”

“Please.” You cut him off and felt warmth spread in your chest as his sigh in relief. 

“Thank fuck.” he whispered and pulled your head up as his came down to meet yours. You whimpered softly as his soft and pillowy lips pressed against your own and you immediately brought your hand up to thread into his wild mane of curls.

Eddie’s eyes nearly rolled back into his head as your lips molded to his perfectly. Fuck he had been waiting for this, wanting this, even dreaming about this since he left Hawkins. Both his hands now held your face to keep you to him. Your body shifted suddenly and without the kiss breaking you had moved to your knees before slinging one leg over his lap and settling down on top of him. 

“God…damn…” he groaned and let his hands slide down your body till he held you at your waist. He felt his cock harden and his grip on you tightened as your hips moved forward to cause friction between the two of you as his teeth nipped at your lower lip. 

“Eddie.” You sighed against his mouth when he hooked his fingers into the top hem of your pants. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I’m moving way too fast.” He apologized and you shook your head, your hands cradling his cheeks as you held his gaze with your own. 

“Let me do it. Let me take the lead.” You whispered and ground your hips downwards again, smiling as Eddie tilted his head back with a groan. You watched his Adam's apple bob before he nodded and leaned forward to kiss and nip at the sensitive skin on his throat. Your name escaped his lips as a strangled plea when your mouth left a mark on his throat, your fingers slipping up under his shirt and dancing across the warm skin of his firm stomach and up to his chest. 

“Off.” You whispered before you gave him a quick kiss and tugged at his shirt. 

Eddie was happy to oblige and nearly ripped the old faded shirt from his body, tossing it onto the floor behind the couch before his hands moved back to your hips to slide under the thin fabric of your own shirt. His warm hands meeting your skin sent a shiver up your spine and your shirt was quick to join his. You traced the fingertips of one hand over the additional tattoos he had added along the past few years, watching as his chest moved with an inhale as he observed you studying him. 

“Like what you see?” he teased and your gaze flicked back up to his. You tilted your head with a small smile before reaching behind you and popping the clasps to your bra, the lacy material falling free to crumble on his belly. 

“You’re beautiful, Eddie.” 

He sucked in a sharp breath and pulled you down so that your body was flush against his own as his lips met yours once more, his hands running down your back and over the curve of your ass. 

“I need you.” You whispered against his lips and ground your hips down to run your still covered and aching sex over his erection.

Eddie was going to die right here on the spot. Every touch, every kiss, every whimper and moan he pulled from you threatened to fry his brain and set his nerve endings on fire. Never in a million years did Eddie think he would be right here with you again, watching you as you stood and slid your shorts and panties to the floor before straddling his lap again. 

“Fucking Christ you’re still just as beautifull as I remembered.” He said through an exhale as he reached up to pull your mouth back down to his. He slid his hand from your waist to run down your thigh before cupping your cunt and letting a finger slip between your slick folds. He took advantage of your sudden gasp into the kiss and slid his tongue into your mouth and against your own. 

“You’re so wet.” Eddie whispered against your lips and you nodded as you rested your forehead against his, “All for me?”

“Just for you, Eddie.” You whimpered and reached down to shove at his black sweatpants he had changed into earlier. He lifted his hips beneath you and shoved them down his thighs to free his achingly hard cock, failing to stop the growl that rumbled in his chest when your hand immediately wrapped around it and slowly began to pump up and down.  

“Fuck…fuck, sweetheart…” he groaned and leaned his head back against the couch. You smiled as you stroked the velvety soft skin of his cock and brought your other hand down to cradle his balls and give them a firm squeeze. His head shot up and he grabbed on to your thighs as he watched your hands, his big brown eyes looking up at you as his jaw slackened. 

“You’re so beautiful like this, Eddie.” You leaned forward and kissed him, your hand coming up and threading your fingers into his hair as your other lined him up to your soaking entrance, “I’ve missed seeing you like this, so wanting and needing when I have my hands on you.” 

Eddie couldn’t string a coherent thought together at this point and only moaned and whimpered as you teased his cock head through your glistening folds. Your hips jerked when it brushed your swollen clit and you bit down on your bottom lip, finally settling it at the entrance to your cunt. 

“Do you want this?” You asked him softly and he turned his half-lidded gaze up to you, “After…after everything.” 

“Sweetheart.” He began, his voice thick and heavy as his chest expanded and his stomach contracted with a deep breath when you settled your hips and he felt the head start to slip in, “You gotta stop looking back at where we came from and start paying attention to what’s in front of us. I have wanted this, wanted you, for way longer than I want to admit out loud.” 

With that you let your hips finish lowering and Eddie watched as your head fell back. He watched his cock slowly split you open as you seated yourself fully on to him and had to fight back the urge to come right then and there.

“Holy shit.” he moaned as a breathy and high pitched ‘fuck’ spilled from your lips. They way you squeezed him as you started to move your hips to grind against him had his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs that would leave the ghost of his fingerprints tomorrow but tonight neither one of you cared. 

“Feel okay?” You asked softly as you braced a hand against his chest, the other resting on the back of his neck as you moved. You angled your hips and began to slowly slide up and down his length. 

“Feels perfect, sweetheart.” he said breathily as his hands moved from your thighs to cup your breasts, the pads of his thumbs tracing the bottoms of your nipples and causing you to suck in a breath and your pussy to clamp tight around him for a second. Eddie leaned his head up and brought one into his mouth as his hand kneaded and massaged the other breast. 

“Eddie…” You whispered and wrapped your arms around him to keep him held to you as you started to quicken the bounce of your hips. He was hitting deep with every downward slam of your hips, his cocked curved perfectly to rub against the spongy muscle that sent your eyes rolling back in your head and your mouth hanging open. His lips worked to keep your nipple sucked into his mouth, his teeth biting it just enough to cause a slight sting before he soothed the ache with his tongue. 

He felt a heat pooling in his belly as he moved to worship your other breast. A shiver ran up his spine as he felt the muscles in his belly and abdomen start to contract and a slight tightness began to build up in his balls.

Fuck, you were divine. He could write an album’s worth of devotional songs just on you and your body alone. He could feel the way you were starting to tighten around his cock, watched the way your chest was rising and falling rapidly as your breathing hastened. He tilted his head up and slid his fingers into your hair before he gripped the back of your head and pulled you down to kiss him for just a quick second. 

“Use me.” He mumbled against your lips, “I want to feel you come, sweetheart. I want to watch you as you unravel and come undone.” You reached behind you to brace a hand on the thigh of his good leg and leaned your body back to give him a good view of your needy and hungry cunt as you worked your hips up and down on him. He watched the creamy ring start to form where you two were joined and brought a hand down to gather some on his thumb before pressing it to your clit. You let out a quick and surprised cry and he only smiled as he started to rub your clit in quick circles. 

“There we go. She loves that, doesn’t she?” he asked and you only managed a nod as your hips now quickened. Your other hand rested against his belly and he relished in the feeling of your fingernails digging into his skin to leave little crescent moon imprints behind. 

“Eddie…oh fuck I’m so close.” You whimpered as your back began to arch towards him.

“I know, baby, I feel it. Come on, sweetheart, you’re almost there.” he urged and felt the tightness of you squeezing him, “Shit, please tell me you’re still on birth control because if not you’re gonna have to get off real soon.” 

“Still on it, please don’t pull out…fuck!” Your head threw back as your hips suddenly stilled and your muscles locked around him, Eddie’s thumb still circling rapidly on your now throbbing clit. He was pushed over the edge when he felt the trickle of your release begin to drip from where you two were joined and down his balls. His muscles in his stomach and back began to contract as his cock released ropes of cum into your fluttering cunt. He leaned back against the couch as his body tingled and his legs felt like jelly, a smile forming on his mouth when you leaned down to tuck your body against his. 

“You are amazing.” he whispered and felt your lips leave a soft kiss against the skin of his neck, “Why don’t we get cleaned up and go tuck ourselves into bed, hm?” 

“You want me to stay the night?” you asked as you leaned up enough to meet his eyes. 

“Of course, you think I was just gonna get post nut clarity and kick you out? Please, babe. I never thought this would happen between us again, of course I want you to stay the night.” You smiled and leaned forward to capture his lips with your own before sliding off of his lap to stand up.

“I’d love to stay the night.”

* * * * * * * * * *

“I better not catch your ass in another tabloid or news story, you hear me?” Wayne warned as he held Eddie in a headlock and ruffled his hair with his other hand. 

“Ow, damn, old man! I get it!” Eddie laughed as he tried to pull his head free, “Gareth help a guy out!” 

“No can do, dude! He’s got a point.” Gareth only laughed as he held his suitcase in one hand and ticket in the other. 

“We gotta board soon and I gotta tell my girl bye!” Eddie pleaded as an announcement rang out over the airline intercom, “Wayne!” 

“Alright alright, you lovesick fool.” Wayne huffed but let Eddie go and gave him a pat on the back. Dustin stepped to the side to give Eddie room to stand in front of you and he reached up to tuck a finger under your chin. 

“I’ll call you every night.” he promised and you only smiled and shook your head. 

“You’re gonna be busy, Eds. Don’t stress over me.” You answered and he shook his head in response. 

“I’ll call you. Every. Night.” he reiterated and then leaned down to press his lips against yours for a firm kiss. Your arms moved up to wrap around his neck as his hands held your hips. 

“Ew.” Dustin gagged but Eddie’s only response was to flip him off without breaking his goodbye kiss with you. 

“Eddie I hate to break this goodbye but we’re boarding.” Gareth said and Eddie groaned as he pulled his head back. 

“I’ll be back quicker than you realize, okay? Please…don’t give up on me.” 

“Eddie, I’ll be right here in Hawkins waiting for you. I promise. I’m not running this time unless it’s straight to you.” With another quick kiss you stepped back and watched as Eddie gathered his bags and waved to everyone as he and Gareth started towards their gate. 

“Shit.” You whispered as you reached up and wiped away tears that had started to trickle down your cheeks, Dustin reaching over and placing a hand on your back. 

“He’ll be back, I promise.” he said and watched as Eddie turned to look at you three one more time, “Maybe sooner than we thought.” 

You laughed through the tears as Eddie hurried (as fast as he could with that boot) back over to you and gave you another kiss before he wiped your tears away and tucked something into your hands. 

‘Eddie!” Gareth called as he threw his hands up in the air. 

“Keep this safe for me.” he whispered and walked off to join Gareth and finally board their plane. You looked down at Eddie’s favorite bandana tucked into your hand, the one he wore at every concert, and smiled as you held it close to your heart. 

“Just please be safe.” you whispered and watched him as he faded from sight. 

Taglist:

@imangy, @micheledawn1975, @eddiemunson4life420, @tlclick73, @lovelizzie-blog1, @kennedy-brooke, @eddieshotstuff, @perfectus-in-morte, @wildflowerwattpad0217, @pop-rocks-and-skittles, @dylanmunson, @kbakery, @lokiofasgard616, @flameo, @girlfrmmars, @cam-peggio, @trixyvixx, @decadentwombatmiracle, @anaisweird, @peachymunson, @littlesubbyflower, @myobmaya, @shinydixon, @sidthedollface2, @secretdryrose, @livasaurasrex, @browneyes528, @winterwakesthewolf @sllooney @raven1234321, @bebe07011, @manda-panda-monium, @angsty-twihardxx @littlefreckles4 @littlemissholy

[lil-quinnie]

Dear Teddy

Chapter 6

Rockstar Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader

A/N: I’ve combined two chapters into one here, I’m hoping to make the updates a little longer from now on! I hope you enjoy 🖤

Chapter warnings: 18+ (minors dni) - angst, alcohol use, drug use, vomiting, gun mention. 10k

Series masterlist

————————————💌———————————

Your hands tremble so violently it takes you three attempts to guide the key into the ignition.

When the engine finally roars to life, you glance back in the rearview mirror, seeing a broken looking Wayne stood in the doorway. He waits until your vehicle has reached the end of the driveway, blinker on to turn onto the main road, before he finally closes the door.

Away from the house and from Wayne’s view, the tears you’ve been holding back are allowed to spill. The road ahead blurs, the sobs you choke on drowning out the sound of the radio.

Fucking Eddie Munson.

How was it that he still had so much power over you? After all these years without him, convincing yourself that you didn’t care about him, not one little bit. But it was a lie. That much was obvious when you felt your heart soar hopefully in your chest at the sight of him. Only to have it crushed seconds later.

It had been naive to expect a different reaction. You might not know much about the person Eddie was now, but you did know who he was before. And he had always been stubborn.

Over the years of your friendship you’d had a few disagreements, little arguments over stupid things that didn’t really matter. They were resolved quickly enough. But it was always you that made the first move. You were always the first to apologise, to say sorry for your wrongdoings. Only then would Eddie admit to his.

It was the kind of thing you don’t notice when you’re friends with someone. A bad habit or small flaw in their personality that glasses tinted rose with love allow you to overlook.

It was only once you were out, once your friendship with Eddie had been shattered beyond fixing, that you admitted to yourself that he could be a little selfish.

You knew you had your own share of flaws. A touch too clingy, a tendency to lean towards possessiveness over those closest to you. But whenever there was a difference between the two of you, you would always let it go before Eddie. You were the first to cave, the first to grow sick of the distance, the silent treatment and tension having anxiety screaming in your chest. You’d say sorry because you missed him. Because you needed him.

Could you do the same now?

You didn’t see what you had to apologise for.

Maybe you’d become as stubborn as him. And the years of separation, all that time spent replaying his cruel words over and over in your head had hardened you to the idea of reconciliation. Eddie would have to grovel on his knees for even a chance at forgiveness. And it seemed clear now that it would never happen.

He didn’t miss you. He didn’t need you.

He’d made it abundantly clear all those years ago, and he’d made it equally clear this evening that he still felt the same way.

“I thought I’d finally got rid of you.”

You slow to a stop at a junction.

Had Eddie always wanted to be rid of you? It’s not the first time that the thought had crept into your mind, spreading like a poisoned vine. It reached out to all the older memories, the happier memories, and strangled them in its clutches, tainting everything.

You’d spent a lot of nights in the weeks and months after New York contemplating just how long Eddie’s contempt for you had gone unnoticed.

Maybe it began in California, and he rolled his eyes every time a new letter from you arrived.

Maybe it started earlier than that. Was he secretly resentful of your presence the summer before he left, when the two of you had been inseparable? Blisteringly hot days spent splashing in the cool waters of the lake, and firefly lit evenings grilling burgers on Wayne’s old barbecue. Late nights lying side by side on his lumpy mattress, talking in hushed whispers about all the opportunities that lay ahead for you both.

What about all the years before? Eddie had been your best friend since your freshman year. Taking you under his wing, your protector as you navigated the unforgiving halls of Hawkins High, his brash personality and couldn’t give a fuck attitude shielding you from the cruelty of your peers. He’d always seemed so genuine. You were drawn to him because with Eddie, you got what you saw. He didn’t pretend. Or so you thought.

Did he dislike you, even then?

The driver of a truck behind you leans on his horn and you jump, snapping out of your thoughts. In the rearview you can see him cursing you out, waving his fist.

“Sorry” you mouth back. Your fingers wrap around the indicator, but you’re still unsure of which way you’re going.

Home was left.

The thought of returning to that empty house filled you with dread. The lights off, the rooms chilly. No one waiting there for your return.

You push your blinker up and turn right.

————————————💌———————————

It doesn’t take you long to arrive in the lot situated behind the apartment complex. You pull up beside Rob’s Honda Accord, the paintwork scraped from a collision with a bollard just a week after she bought it.

You buzz yourself in, the key and fob she’d given you dangling from the same ring as your own house keys. The elevator is still out, so you trudge slowly up the stairs, feeling the burn in your thighs when you finally reach the third floor.

When you push open the front door open you’re greeted with the signs of life you so miss in your own place. The warm glow of the lights from the living room at the end of the hall, Robin’s raspy cackle carried through along with the hum of the TV. The smell of something spicy flows from the kitchen, plates and cutlery clinking in accompaniment.

“Is someone at the door?” You hear Steve say.

Robin shuffles to drape herself over the edge of the couch, her neck craned to get a clear view down the hallway.

“Yeah! We’ve got company.” She says brightly, flashing you a toothy grin.

Steve appears a moment later. A frilly apron is knotted around his waist, all pink gingham and embroidered flowers. It had been a gag gift from Lucas and Max, but he insisted on wearing it whenever he cooked.

“Hey hon! I just made enchiladas. You want some?” He says.

“No, it’s okay. I-I’m sorry for dropping in unannounced. I don’t wanna put you guys out if you’re about to eat-“

“It’s fine! I made plenty. I’ll get you a plate.” Steve smiles.

You kick off your shoes and saunter into the living room.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at Wayne’s tonight?” Robin comments.

“Yeah.” You say with a shrug, dropping down beside her on the couch.

“Why aren’t you?”

Avoiding her gaze, you try to focus on the television set across from you. The screen becomes unfocused, distorted by more tears. God, you’re so sick of crying over him.

“Oh. Hey, babe it’s okay.” Robin coos, her arms sliding around your shoulders in a tight embrace.

“Steve!” She calls.

“Yeah?”

“I think we’re gonna need that bottle of wine!”

————————————💌———————————

Despite the growling of your stomach you don’t manage more than a few mouthfuls of Steve’s enchiladas. The food feels like it’s getting lodged in your throat, the cheap wine you gulp swirling in your anxious stomach and making you queasy.

“I - I can’t believe it. Why would he be so - so… mean?” Steve says.

Beside you Robin scoffs.

“I can believe it. Munson’s an asshole Steve, this is hardly new information.”

Steve shuffles awkwardly in his seat. He’d always felt more torn between you and Eddie. He was never anything but a perfect friend to you, but you knew that Eddie and him had stayed in touch, even if it was infrequent. Steve felt loyalty to you both.

Robin on the other hand had no issues in taking sides.

Of course she’d once cared about Eddie, and considered him a close friend. They had a lot of in common, a pair of chaotic and energetic goofballs who bounced off of one another. But when she’d heard the details of what transpired between you and your former best friend, the line was drawn. It was all Steve could do to keep Rob from calling Eddie and cursing him out.

“Alright. I know some.. stuff has happened.” Steve says hesitantly.

“But it’s been years. And you two were so close. I guess I just figured that if the two of you met again, you’d get it all worked out. Maybe he’d feel differently. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that.”

“Well he clearly doesn’t feel any different.” Robin snaps, not realising her words feel like a dagger slicing at the soft flesh of your belly.

“He could’ve just been in shock, y’know? A knee jerk reaction?”

“Stop making excuses for him Steve!”

“I’m not! I’m just thinking-“

“You are though!”

“Guys please!” You beg. Your voice wobbles again.

“I don’t want you two to fight about it.”

Robin sinks back in her seat. Steve reaches over and affectionately pats your knee.

“Sorry honey. I know this probably isn’t helping.” He says sheepishly.

“It’s okay.” You sigh.

“I’m sorry for coming over here and just dumping this all on you.”

“Don’t be silly, we’re your friends.”

“Your best friends.” Robin adds.

“And we’re here for you, always.”

You force a small smile. Robin tops up your glass.

“I’ve got to drive home.” You protest.

“Nope. You’re staying with us tonight. We’ve got a pint of mint choc chip in the freezer, and dingus over here has been bugging me to try some weird new face mask recipe.”

“It’s not weird! It’s got oats for exfoliation, and honey for-“

“So-“ Robin grins, interrupting Steve’s protests.

“You can be his guinea pig instead of me. We’re gonna eat ice cream til we feel sick, and watch whatever movie you want, and then you’re sleeping in my bed and we’ll stay up gossiping.”

“Not without me I hope.” Steve whines.

“Of course not dingus, there’s room for you too. Now go get the ice cream.”

“Yes ma’am.” Steve smiles, giving a mock salute that finally pulls a giggle from you.

The two of them have the tension leaving your knotted shoulders, all your anxious thoughts dissolving to a distant memory.

You’re safe here. Happy. Far from anything that could cause you pain.

As Steve roots around in the freezer, the telephone on the kitchen wall lets out a shrill ring. He straightens, waving the tub of ice cream triumphantly as he picks up the receiver.

“Hello?”

Steve’s smile fades, his brows darting up in surprise, almost lost under the wild waves of hair that hang over his forehead.

“Oh. H-hey man. S’good to hear from you. It’s been a while.” He says.

Robin’s face twists in confusion, but you know exactly who’s on the line without having to ask.

“What did he want?” Robin asks suspiciously a few minutes later. She’d taken the ice cream from Steve while he talked on the phone, her bowl now licked clean, while your own scoop has turned to a soupy mess, churned up by your spoon being anxiously stirred through it.

Steve grimaces when he takes his seat.

“He told me he was back in Hawkins for a while. Asked me to meet him for a drink tomorrow to catch up.”

“Are you gonna go?”

“I said I would, yeah.”

“Steve!”

“Rob, come on. What was I supposed to do? He’s my friend.”

“She’s your friend!” Robin bites back, pointing a finger in your direction.

“Please, both of you. Don’t start bickering again.” You plead.

“It’s fine. Steve, I think it’s good. You should go. You don’t have to choose between us. Can we please just stop talking about it and watch a movie?”

Robin’s cheeks turns rose, her expression guilty.

“Sure, whatever you want.” She says softly.

“Sixteen Candles or Pretty In Pink?” Steve asks.

“You know I love Jon Cryer.” You grin.

Robin groans. She’s too slow to dodge the cushion that Steve tosses at her face.

————————————💌———————————

The clock on Robin’s nightstand tells you it’s a little after midnight. She snores softly on your right, falling asleep within minutes of her head hitting the pillow. On your other side Steve is still, his breathing quiet and slow.

You wish sleep would find you too. It’s a little cramped, three bodies squeezed into a queen, but it’s not the lack of space that’s keeping you awake.

You can’t get your brain to be quiet. A never ending rollodex of thoughts spinning in your mind.

Despite your best efforts, you can’t get the image of Eddie from earlier out of your mind. The disgust on his face, the venom in his tone. It had been a long time since you’d been on the receiving end of it, and it was every bit as painful as the last time.

With a quiet sigh you turn, shuffling awkwardly to roll onto your other side. You’re careful to not wake Robin or Steve, but when you face the other way you’re surprised to see Steve’s mossy eyes open and looking at you.

“Can’t sleep?” He murmurs.

You shake your head.

“I thought you’d already drifted off.”

“Nah. Too much on my mind.” He says.

“I know the feeling.”

Steve gives you a small smile. Under the duvet his hands search for yours, bringing them up to his chest and swallowing them beneath his broad palms.

“I won’t go. If you ask me not to, then I won’t.” He whispers.

“Stevie, I would never ask you to do that. It’s not fair.”

“I kind of feel like I’m betraying you.”

“You’re not.” You insist.

“If anything, to not go would be betraying E- him. You’re friends and he wants to see you. He probably won’t be here for long, so you should make the most of it.”

Steve is quiet for a moment, clearly thinking it over.

“Thank you.” He whispers.

“For what?”

“For being so understanding about it. I know it’s hard for you.”

You swallow the lump in your throat.

“It’s not that big of a deal.” You lie.

“Besides, I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

“Why?” Steve asks.

“Because you let me show up here unannounced and fed me. Shared your ice cream with me, let me pick the movie. Not to mention, thanks to you my face is now softer than a baby’s butt cheek.”

Steve lets out a soft chuckle that fades into a deep yawn.

“Wanna cuddle?” He says softly, looking at you from under rapidly drooping eyelids.

“Sure.” You whisper.

Steve lifts one arm, making space for you to shuffle in closer, your face pressing against his chest. His t-shirt is soft and warm against your cheek. It smells like detergent and a little of his lingering cologne, all musk and spice. His arms fold around you in a gentle cradle, large palms sweeping over your back in a soothing motion.

The slight jostling is enough to rouse Robin. Still half asleep, she too rolls over.

“Let me in.” She murmurs, her voice all rough and raspy with sleepiness. The point of her chin nestles into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, her slim arms holding you tight and pulling her in until she’s plastered against your back.

You’d spent your share of nights like this over the last couple of years.

When it had been really bad, being sandwiched between your best friends, with the heat of their bodies and the soothing thump of their heartbeats was the only time that you could calm enough to sleep.

It had been a while. The nights got easier, filling your days with enough to distract you and tire you helped. But it was still nice to have this comfort. To feel safe and secure between them. With Robin snoring softly in your ear, and Steve’s deep breaths ruffling your hair, you could finally let yourself relax enough to drift off too.

————————————💌———————————

Eddie had reached his limit. After only a day he knew he couldn’t sit around and stare at the same four walls, feeling himself slowly going insane while the hours trickled by as slow as molasses.

He needed to get out.

Not out of Hawkins. That wasn’t an option right now.

But he needed to leave the house. Find some way to entertain himself, now that he was cut off from the fun and debauchery of his lifestyle back home.

He rents a car.

A Dodge Viper, sleek and black, with an engine that made an obscene amount of noise. There was a time when Eddie would have scoffed and rolled his eyes at seeing someone driving around in such a vehicle like this, question just who exactly the driver was trying to impress. But his derisiveness would have just been a cover for bitter jealousy.

Besides, he somewhat enjoys the envious stares and judgemental sneers as he cruises through the streets of his home town. Eddie Munson, the loser, the freak, was now more successful than any of these small minded people could ever dream of being. The car felt like driving around in a gigantic middle finger.

Eddie makes his way over to the lake house. The roads are unchanged, familiar in a way that barely requires concentration as he crosses the town and heads to the outskirts. He has so many memories of following these roads: the windows down in his beat up van, the wind flowing through his hair while Metallica blared from the speakers. You sat in the passenger seat, singing along and -

No. Stop it. Eddie shakes his head.

He has no idea why the thought even popped into his mind. He never took you with him to Rick’s. Didn’t want to risk you being caught with him if he was pulled over with enough stock in the vehicle to land him a felony.

It was an intrusive thought. A memory from some other ride to some other destination attempting to bleed into the forefront of Eddie’s mind.

Gritting his teeth, Eddie’s knuckles turn white as they grasp at the steering wheel.

He needs to stop thinking about you. To find a way of shaking you off since you’d crawled back into his subconscious like some kind of parasite.

Luckily, Rick should have just what he needs.

————————————💌———————————

Eddie’s relieved to find that Rick is still living in the same place. Even more relieved to discover that he is still the go to guy in Hawkins and the surrounding small towns.

When Rick opens his front door, Eddie’s greeted by the pungent earthiness of weed, a large cloud exhaled in his face through grinning lips stretched across a pale face.

“Eddie fucking Munson.” Rick drawls.

“Long time no see man.”

“Hey Rick. How’re you doing?” Eddie asks.

Rick nods slowly, taking another large hit from the joint hanging between his fingertips.

“All good brother. Always good. Come on in.”

Rick’s living room is exactly as Eddie remembers it. Sunlight filters through the half drawn blinds, illuminating the constant haze in the air. Takeout containers litter the floor and the table, a few even discarded on the couch that Eddie has to nudge aside to take a seat. The only change appears to be the TV which has had an upgrade, the screen big enough to rival Eddie’s back at home. Fast Times at Ridgemont High plays on low in the background, and Rick shuts it off as he shuffles through the room, his slippers dragging along the unvaccuumed carpet.

Rick’s always moved slow. He somewhat reminded Eddie of a sloth he’d seen once on a field trip to a zoo. Rick smoked all day, enough to put lesser men in a catatonic state. It made every movement of his languid and drawn out, and he often had this dopey smile on his face, like that lazy creature Eddie had seen hanging in its enclosure, scratching its round belly with clawed fingers.

But Eddie knew better than to underestimate Rick. Sure he was a pretty chill guy most of the time. But the assault rifle propped up by the front door, and the handgun carelessly discarded on the coffee table was a reminder that he wasn’t someone to be messed with.

Rick lumps down in the armchair across from Eddie.

“I can’t believe it. I’ve got a fucking rockstar in my living room.” He says.

“It’s good to see you man.”

“You too. It’s been too long.” Eddie replies with a smile.

“I take it you’re not here looking for work?” Rick chuckles.

“Nah man. Just as a customer.”

“Not just a customer brother. A friend. You and me, we got waaay back.” Rick drawls, as if Eddie didn’t know their own history.

“We sure do.” He replies.

“I hope you don’t mind me dropping in. I wasn’t sure who was selling for you these days, or if you were even still in the business.”

Rick waves his hand dismissively.

“I’ve still got a good operation. But the kids these days man, they don't care about it in the same way you and I did. They only care about the cash. S’better if you come straight to me man. I’ll give you the good shit, and I won’t rip you off like those little fuckers will try to.”

Eddie forces a smile. He’s not about to tell Rick that he was only ever in it for the money too. It’s not like most normal kids dream of dealing. Sure, being able to dip into your own supply was fun, and it beat slaving away at some shitty store in the mall every weekend. But Eddie had only turned to Rick in the first place because money was so tight at home.

“Thanks man. I appreciate it.”

Rick smiles, tossing the butt of his finished joint into an overflowing ashtray. He immediately reaches for another tucked over his ear. The paper sizzles when it’s lit, Rick inhaling a large pull before leaning to pass the joint to over.

Eddie takes it with a small nod. The weed in California was decent, it wasn’t like Eddie couldn’t afford the best around. But just like taking a swig of coffee brewed and poured by his uncle, the taste of Rick’s best strain was a home comfort for Eddie. He exhales a pleased sigh, letting the smoke twist and unfurl in front of his face.

“So what brings you back to Hawkins?” Rick asks.

“Thought I’d take a bit of time off. Catch up with some old friends.” Eddie says. The same old lie. It gets easier every time he tells it.

“Thats what it’s all about brother. Keep your friends close.” Rick’s eyes close, his head nodding like he’s imparting some deep wisdom.

“I’ll bet your girl is happy you’re back.”

Eddie chokes as he takes another hit, spluttering and coughing like it was his first time all over again.

“M-my girl?” He wheezes.

“That one you used to hang out with all the time. She’s still living here ain’t she?”

“Yeah. I didn’t know you knew her.”

“I know everyone and everything Ed. I’ve seen her around a few times.”

Eddie blinks rapidly, staring across at Rick in confusion.

“Does - does she come here? Like, she buys from you?” He says.

Why does he care? Why does the thought of you coming here alone fill Eddie with anxiety. You’re not his responsibility anymore, he shouldn’t give a shit where you go or what you do.

“Nah.” Rick leans over to take the joint back.

“I’ve seen her in that store she works in, y’know?”

“Y-yeah.” Eddie lies. His heart still rabbits in his chest, but it’s a little calmer now he knows you’re not one of Rick’s regular customers.

He wants to ask which store Rick’s seen you in, just so he knows where to avoid. But he’s not about to explain to Rick why he doesn’t know. Doesn’t want to talk about the fact that you’re not his girl anymore.

Not that you ever were. Of course not. You were just a friend.

“So. What are you looking for?” Rick asks, a thankful change of subject.

“What have you got?” Eddie says.

“Everything man. You name it, I supply it.”

“Okay. Well I guess then weed, coke, benzos. A-and some quaaludes.”

Rick raises his brows.

“That’s quite a shopping list brother.”

Eddie shrugs.

“S’alright. I’m not judging. But don’t ask me for any heavier shit. I don’t sell smack to friends. That shit’ll mess you up man.”

“I’m not into that.” Eddie replies.

It’s the truth too. He’d been offered it plenty of times, had a lot of friends who loved it, swore that nothing else compared. But despite the swathes of ink adorning his skin, Eddie had a thing about needles. He’d even passed out the last time he’d had blood drawn. Not that Rick needed to know that.

“Glad to hear it. Gimme a sec and I’ll get you sorted.” Rick says, stumbling a little as he rises from his chair. Eddie watches as he shuffles around the room, rummaging through drawers and bags.

Rick tosses the bags of weed and coke onto the table, along with four bottles of pills.

“S’that enough?”

Eddie clears his throat.

“Uh. Maybe a couple of more of the benzos?. And the ludes.” He says hesitantly.

“Sure thing.”

Rick adds two more bottles of each. Eddie pulls a thick wad of bills from the pocket of his jeans, holding them out to the older man.

Rick tuts, flicking through the cash. He pockets a little over half, handing the rest back to Eddie.

“That’s too much man. Really.” Eddie says.

“I told you I’d give you a good price. I’m not about to screw over a friend.” Rick says nonchalantly.

For some reason, his choice of words has Eddie’s stomach twisting.

“You wanna hang for a bit?” Rick offers.

“I should probably be getting back.” Eddie says.

“But thanks. I’ll come see you again soon.”

“Not too soon I hope.” Rick laughs.

“Not that I don’t wanna see you. But that shit should last you a while.”

Eddie fakes a smile as he attempts to stuff his purchases into the pockets of his jacket.

He knows it won’t be long before he’ll be having to make another trip out to the lake house.

————————————💌———————————

Eddie feels calmer on the drive back into town. It’s not from the weed, he’d barely had a few tokes. But knowing that he was stocked up once again was a relief, even if it was the exact opposite of why he’d been forced to come back to Hawkins in the first place.

Eddie wonders what his friends would say, what Andy would say. If his bandmates and manager knew that they’d sent him away to get clean, cast him aside like he was dirty, sick. Yet here he was, as well connected as he had been back in California. His pockets rattling from the multiple bottles of pills inside.

Eddie lets out a deep breath, trying to calm the resentment and fury that was building in his chest. He knew deep down his friends just cared about him. But their judgement was hard to take.

They’d all done shit, all experimented and partied hard in the early days. Pills passed around like candy, swallowed down with expensive liquor, line after line cut up on tables in green rooms and dingy club bathrooms.

It was fun. They’d all just been having fun.

But then Jeff’s girlfriend, now his fiancée, had pestered him to cut back. And once he did, the rest of the band slowly fell in line too.

“We just need to calm down a bit, yeah? We don’t play so good if we’re wasted.” Gareth had insisted.

It was bullshit.

Eddie played better with a little something buzzing in his veins. Coke seemed to sharpen his senses. It was like he felt every single vibration of the guitar strings echo through his body, his voice sounding clearer and stronger, filled with more passion. Why would he want to give that up?

And the pills were nothing to be concerned about. Shit, half the country was being prescribed the same stuff by doctors. The benzos levelled Eddie out. Helped him relax after a show when his hands were still shaking with adrenaline, coaxed him into peaceful sleep when the various other substances in his bloodstream left him feeling wired.

Eddie didn’t need to get clean. There was nothing wrong with him, he didn’t have a problem. He liked drugs, so what? He was a fucking rockstar.

He’s too distracted by the bitter thoughts swirling in his mind to notice the speedometer of the Viper slowly creeping up. Trees and familiar road signs flashing past him in a blur.

It’s only when blue lights illuminate his rear view mirror does he realise he’s hit 70 in a 45.

“Shit.” Eddie hisses through his teeth. His foot hits the brakes, the car rolling to a stop as he guides it into a pull-off.

Eddie rolls down the window. Sucks in a deep breath of fresh air and checks his reflection in the mirror.

He looks fine. Normal. His eyes aren’t blood shot or anything. Maybe a hint of red around the edges, but nothing that he can’t pass off as exhaustion. There’s no reason for the cop to suspect anything. He’ll write Eddie a speeding ticket and be on his merry way. Hell, if the guy’s a Corroded Coffin fan Eddie might be able to charm his way out of the ticket, sign an autograph and get himself off scot-free.

The cop car has pulled in behind him, the door slamming closed and gravel crunching under heavy footsteps. Eddie peers his head out of the window, dazzling rockstar grin in full force, ready to talk his way out of trouble. His forced smile changes to something more genuine when he sees who’s approaching him.

“Well shit. I thought you’d be retired by now.” Eddie laughs.

Hopper appears to do a double take, clearly surprised to see Eddie behind the wheel.

“I’m not that old kid.”

“Of course not. You look as young as you did the day I first met you. Total spring chicken.” Eddie says with a chuckle.

Hopper comes to a stop beside the open window, his hands on his hips. He’s doing his best to keep his stern, authoritarian composure, but Eddie can see the wry smile that pulls at his lips.

Hopper had always gone easy on Eddie. He seemed to have a bit of a soft spot for him. Wayne and Jim went way back, growing up in the small town together, occasionally drinking together at the old dive bar downtown on nights that the two of them weren’t working. It afforded Eddie a little more protection.

As a kid, if Eddie was pulled over or the cops busted a party he was selling at, he always hoped that Hopper would be the one to deal with him. He usually got away with little more than a slap on the wrist, when most other officers would have been glad to send him off to juvie.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you back here.” Hopper comments.

“I’m only visiting.” Eddie says with a shrug.

“Back to see Wayne?”

“Yeah. And some friends.”

Hopper raises one thick brow, his head tilting in the direction of the road Eddie had just been flying down.

“Catching up with Rick?”

Eddie gulps. He hopes Hopper doesn’t catch it.

“Yeah. Just wanted to see how he’s doing.” He says smoothly.

“Hmm. You’re gonna keep your nose clean while you’re here, right kid?” Hopper asks, his eyes narrowing.

“Of course. Scouts honour.” Eddie says. He gives a mock salute, relieved when the cop lets out a reluctant chuckle.

“Good. I don’t wanna have to be hauling your ass down to the station.”

“Well I am catching up with old friends after all. I’m sure Callaghan would be delighted to see me.” Eddie grins.

Hopper shakes his head as he laughs.

“Get outta here Munson. And watch your speed. S’a nice car. It’d be a shame if you wrecked it.”

“You got it Hop. Won’t happen again.” Eddie says with a wink.

Eddie watches through the rearview mirror as Hopper makes his way back to his car. The Viper roars to life when he turns the keys, and he’s more careful this time as he pulls back onto the road, keeping a watchful eye on the speedometer.

Eddie smiles to himself as he heads for his uncle’s home. Wayne, Hopper, his bandmates back out west - he’s fooled them all.

This is going to be easier than Eddie thought.

————————————💌———————————

Eddie slams the door of the cab closed behind him. He opted to leave the Dodge back at Wayne’s, knowing he’d be in no state to drive by the end of the night.

Hopper might have gone easy on him earlier, but Eddie wasn’t about to push his luck. Getting caught driving drunk wasn’t on his list of things to do.

Much like everything else in Hawkins, The Hideout remains unchanged. The whole town is frozen in time, like a snapshot from Eddie’s memories come to life.

He lights a cigarette and takes in the building in front of him. The same paint on the bricks that was long overdue for a touch up, large flecks of black peeling away to reveal the rusted red beneath. Years of posters and flyers stapled on top of one another on the notice board, the tattered pages rustling with the breeze. A few more lights have gone out on the sign, so now from a distance it reads “Th Hi ed t”. Flickering blue bathes Eddie’s pale face, the buzz of the electric a comforting sound.

He doesn’t feel anxious about coming here. The Hideout felt like a second home to him. It was one of the few sanctuaries he’d found in this hell hole of a town, one of the only places he’d been able to be himself.

And he owed a lot to this place. George, the owner, had believed in Corroded Coffin from the very beginning. Letting them play week after week, even if the same old drunks got tired of hearing the same old songs. There was always a space for them on the tiny stage here.

Eddie hopes George is still running things. He had been a few years back, when Eddie had last seen him. He spotted him in the crowd at a show in Indianapolis, beaming with pride and cheering for the small town boys who did good and got out. Eddie had him pulled from the throng of bodies and brought side of stage to watch, even embarrassed him by telling the crowd how Corroded Coffin owed so much of their success to George.

Eddie pushes through the front doors. Immediately greeted by the smell of spilt beer and stale cigarette smoke, the air thick with it. Just like the exterior, things inside haven’t changed much. The same tables and wobbly stools, beer mats stuffed under the uneven legs to steady them. Bare bulbs hang from sporadic spots on the ceiling, so dim that most of the room remains shrouded in darkness.

The stage is the exception, George’s pride and joy, where he focuses most of his profits to give the bands that play here the best experience. Expensive lighting rigs and smoke machines, stacks of amps and speakers for those just starting out who might not be able to afford their own.

A few pockmarked teens are tuning up, cheap guitars strung loosely over thin shoulders, their spines hunched and faces self-conscious. Eddie feels a glimmer of pride looking at the bunch of misfits. Maybe they’ll get lucky, just like he did.

Eddie veers left to the bar. The place is still fairly empty, so he has no trouble finding an open spot to lean against. As he rests his forearms on the sticky surface, he notices the only change in the decor.

The wall behind the bar is newly decorated, a fresh coat of deep navy paint, still glossy and smooth. Above the shelves of liquor bottles are posters, kept pristine behind panes of glass in wooden frames. Some are old. Hand drawn flyers that teenage Eddie had created when he should have been studying. He’d make copies in the school library, keeping an eye out for Miss Rowe, who would hiss at him in that half whisper half shout when she caught him wasting paper on anything other than school work. There’s modern posters too: glossy prints from Corroded Coffin’s headline tours, and multiple magazine clippings detailing their meteoric rise to fame.

Eddie smiles to himself, touched by the level of pride George clearly still feels. He thinks back to the gold records that sit in home, the ones he’d never got around to hanging on the wall. Maybe Eddie will send one George’s way. It would make a great addition to his collection.

Eddie’s pulled from this thoughts by a booming voice.

“No fucking way!”

He looks up, seeing a figure blur past him, rushing around the end of the bar to grab him and pull him in for a tight hug.

“I can’t believe it!”

“You’d better believe it.” Eddie laughs, clapping George firmly on the back. The old man pulls back to look at him, still holding on to Eddie’s arms as if to reassure himself that he’s really here.

“I never thought I’d see you back in this place again.” George grins.

“I couldn’t come home and not come here.” Eddie replies.

The small commotion of George’s greeting catches the attention of the rest of the bar’s patrons. Heads turn to see what the fuss is all about, brows darting up and an echo of excited whispers filling the room.

“That’s Eddie Munson!”

“No way.”

“It’s not really him.”

“It is! Look, he’s here!”

Within seconds the two men are surrounded, the few customers gathering around them, all clammering for autographs and photos.

“Alright, alright! Give the man some space.” George says, shooing away the crowd.

“It’s fine, honestly.” Eddie smiles.

“I’m meeting a friend but it looks like he’s not here yet, so I’ve got some time to hang out with everyone.”

“Okay. You want your usual while you wait for him?” George asks, now back behind the bar.

“Please.”

Eddie reaches in his pocket, and George tuts at the sight of his wallet.

“You drink for free.”

“That’s awfully kind of you George. But how about some drinks for my new friends?” Eddie says. He slaps a thick stack of bills down on the bar, enough to have George looking giddy with glee.

“Yes sir.” George says, snatching up the cash.

“Drinks are on Eddie Munson tonight ladies and gents!”

Cheers ring out. Eddie turns to face the small crowd with a grin. Now this was a welcome home befitting a rockstar.

————————————💌———————————

Word gets out quickly that the frontman of Corroded Coffin has returned to his old haunt.

Within an hour the bar is packed, everyone desperate for the chance to speak to Eddie. He soaks up the attention, basking in it, wishing that the people in Hawkins who looked down on him for years could see him now, getting a heroes welcome.

Eddie sits at a small table to the right of the stage, listening to the band who aren’t half bad. The lead singer sheepishly announces that they’re going to play Bloodline, a single from Corroded Coffin’s debut album. Eddie lets out a loud whoop, the whole crowd following suit. He feels a little sorry for the kids on the stage. This is likely the first full house they’ve ever played to, but most of the eyes in the room aren’t on them. They’re on the charismatic, curly haired metal head sat sipping his third Bud light of the evening.

Two girls are leant up against Eddie’s table. A pretty blonde and a pretty red head, the kind of girls who would have never given him the time of day if he wasn’t famous. Not that Eddie cares. He loves the flirtatious whispers, smokey lined eyes dragging across his broad shoulders, the way they both giggle and bite their lips whenever he speaks. Christ, if he was sticking in Hawkins for a while he might need to get his own place, even if it was just temporary. Eddie knows either one of them would go home with him in a second if he asked. Maybe both. But he couldn’t exactly take them back to Wayne’s.

Eddie’s just debating on whether or not he should call around the hotels in Hawkins to get a room for the night, when the door to the bar swings open once again. Across the room Eddie catches a glimpse of tousled brown waves, his friend’s head turning back and forth as he scans the packed room with a frown on his face.

“Steve! Stevie!” Eddie bellows above the din. The girls jump at his shouts.

Steve turns to the call of his name, grin shining bright when he catches sight of Eddie. He eagerly pushes through the crowd while Eddie jumps up, grabbing a spare stool and dragging it to his table.

Steve pulls him in for hug, broad arms squeezing tight. The two girls slip away, looking disappointed and murmuring to themselves, but they’re the last thing on Eddie’s mind now.

“It’s so good to see you.” Steve grins when he pulls back.

“You too Stevie. C’mon, sit down.”

Eddie waves over to the bar, pointing to Steve. George gives a thumbs up, and within seconds another bottle of beer arrives to the table.

“Cheers.” Eddie says, clinking the neck of his bottle to Steve’s.

“To being reunited!” Steve says.

The boys sip their drinks. Eddie turns his chair, adjusting his position so his back is to the rest of the room. He doesn’t want anymore interruptions now, his full attention on the friend he’s missed more than he cares to admit.

“So come on then, ask me the question.” Eddie grins.

“What question?” Steve asks.

“What I’m doing back in Hawkins. It seems to be the first thing everyone says to me.”

“Then you must be sick of answering it.” Steve laughs.

“I’d rather ask how long you’re staying.”

“You trying to get rid of me already Stevie?” Eddie teases.

“God no. I’m hoping you’re back for good.”

“I’m definitely not sticking around forever. But I’ll be here a while.”

“Will you stay until Christmas? Because the kids will all be home from college.”

Eddie pauses, sweeping his finger up the side of his beer, smearing the condensation. He hasn’t given much thought to the upcoming holiday.

“I’m not too sure. I’ll probably be here for Thanksgiving. But I’m still figuring some stuff out.”

Steve frowns.

“What kind of stuff?” He asks.

Eddie shrugs.

“Nothing important.”

“Eddie. You’re pouting.”

“I am not!”

“You totally are. And you’ve got that look in your eyes, all sad like a kicked puppy. Has something happened?”

“No.” Eddie says, just a touch too quickly. Steve raises one brow in suspicion.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Better than fine, everything’s all good. It’s just been a hectic few years, y’know? Me and the guys decided it’d be good to take a few weeks off.”

“Makes sense.” Steve replies. Although he doesn’t sound completely convinced.

“I bet Wayne’s glad to have you home.”

“Yeah he is. He - wait. How did you know I’m staying with Wayne?”

Steve squirms in his seat.

“I - I uh.. well-“

“She told you didn’t she?” Eddie says flatly. Steve winces.

“She did mention it, yeah.”

“When?”

“Um, yesterday? She was kinda at my place when you called.”

It feels like a punch in the gut. You must have gone straight to Steve when you left Wayne’s house. Eddie gets a sour taste in his mouth when he thinks about what you might have told him.

“Do you see her a lot?” Eddie asks through gritted teeth.

“Sort of, yeah. We’re still close.” Steve admits.

Eddie’s head snaps up at that.

“Are you..?”

“No! No not like that.” Steve says, blushing furiously.

“We’re just friends.”

It’s funny, Eddie used to say the same thing.

“It’s fine man. Whatever, you’ve known her a long time too.”

“Yeah, but… I mean it’s a little awkward. I feel bad, like I’m doing something wrong by keeping in touch with you both.”

“You’re really not.” Eddie says, forcing himself to give Steve a reassuring smile.

“Anyway, enough about her. Tell me about you. What’s new in Steve Harrington’s life?”

————————————💌———————————

The two boys spend the next few hours catching up. The conversation is easy, like no time at all has passed.

Eddie fills Steve in on recording sessions, antics on tour, and various hookups with models and actresses that Steve seems suitably impressed by. He leaves out any details about the arguments with his bandmates, and their attempted intervention.

In turn Steve tells Eddie about his own life. His job coaching gym back at Hawkins High, the apartment he shares with Robin, his turbulent love life. There’s a few moments when your name slips all too easily past Steve’s lips, the beginnings of stories that he quickly cuts off, like he’s remembering who’s in his company. Eddie supposes this is something he’ll have to get used to. You living on the outskirts of his life. Now just a friend of a friend, someone who’ll be mentioned in passing from time to time.

A collection of empty bottles builds on the table, beer after beer knocked back, slipping down easy like they’re water. It has little effect on Eddie, but Steve is clearly out of practice. By the time George calls last orders Steve is swaying on his stool, his cheeks flushed and speech slurred.

“I think it might be time for me to get you home big boy.” Eddie laughs.

“Mmm. Wanna go bed.” Steve mumbles.

“Alright then. I’ll get us a cab.”

“Pee.” Steve whines.

“What?”

“M’gotta pee.”

“Okay. Let’s get you to the bathroom. Can you stand?”

Steve slips sideways off of his stool, stumbling heavily and almost tipping over. Eddie just manages to catch him before he crashes into the now empty stage.

“Easy there big boy. C’mere, I’ve got you.” Eddie says. He drapes Steve’s arm around his shoulders, his own securing Steve’s waist. Steve’s still as broad as ever, in fact he’s damn heavy. By the time Eddie manages to half carry him into the tiny bathroom he’s beginning to break a sweat.

Unfortunately, the bathrooms haven’t changed since Eddie was last here. The same old lewd graffiti scribbled on the walls, the faucets still leaking, and the air still thick with the stench of piss.

Eddie guides Steve towards the dirty urinals, keeping one hand in the centre of his back while he pees, his friend still swaying slightly.

“Better?” Eddie asks as Steve rolls up his zipper.

Steve nods. But his eyes suddenly grow wide and panicked, his hand clamped over his lips as he dives into the only stall.

Eddie winces as Steve empties the contents of his stomach.

“Jesus Christ Harrington, you’re a mess.” He says fondly.

He only gets a weak groan in response.

Eddie lets Steve carry on getting the worst of it out. In the mean time he digs into his pocket, pulling out the small vial that had sunk to the bottom. He taps the powder onto the back of his hand, snorting it quickly and wiping the residue from under his nose.

“What’re you doing?” Steve slurs. Eddie finds him slumped against the stall door, frowning.

“What’s it look like?” Eddie laughs.

“I’d offer you some, but I think you’re done for the night, don’t you?”

Steve shakes his head in disbelief.

“I - I didn’t know you did that.”

“Why do you mean? You’ve seen me.. we’ve literally done it together before.”

“Yeah, when we were dumb kids. And only once or twice. D’you normally just carry that shit around with you?”

There’s something in Steve’s tone that has fury flaring hot in Eddie’s gut. He doesn’t sound angry, or even disappointed. It’s concern, but Eddie hates how misplaced it is. Why is everyone always so damn worried about what he chooses to do? Like he’s some idiot incapable of making good decisions.

“It’s just a little coke Stevie. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Eddie snaps.

“I’m not. S-sorry. Was just surprised, s’all.”

Eddie’s annoyance disappears as quickly as it ignited. Now Steve is the one who looks like a kicked puppy.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bite your head off. It’s nothing to worry about, okay?” Eddie says, patting Steve on the shoulder.

“Okay.” Steve whispers.

“Fuck man, the room’s still spinning.”

“Then let’s get that cab.”

————————————💌———————————

The journey back to Steve’s apartment is quiet.

The driver’s clearly not in the mood to make small talk. He’d initially refused outright to give them a ride, taking one look at Steve’s green tinted complexion and no doubt imagining having to scrub vomit stains out of the seats. He’d changed his mind when Eddie waved a couple of extra twenties in his face.

Despite the chill in the air, Eddie rolls down the back windows. Steve sits with his chin resting on the edge, breathing slow through his nose and occasionally moaning.

It’s clear when they pull up that Steve is still in no state to get himself home. The cab driver waits outside with the meter running, while Eddie tries his best to usher Steve into the building and up the stairs.

At his front door, Steve decides that his legs can take him no further. He slumps to the floor, looking up at Eddie pitifully.

“Give me your keys bud.” Eddie whispers.

Steve’s head thumps against the wall behind him, his arms hanging loose and useless at his sides.

“Jesua H Christ.” Eddie mutters. He squats to pat Steve down, reaching in all of his pockets and finding nothing but his wallet, a few balled up receipts, and a chapstick.

“Steve. Steve, where the fuck are your keys?” Eddie hisses. Steve’s head flops, his eyelids half closed.

“Don’t fall asleep Stevie. You’re almost in your bed. Just tell me where your keys are.”

“Mmm. Dunno.” Steve yawns.

Eddie sighs. There’s only one option left.

He knocks on the apartment door, hoping that it’s enough to wake Robin but not the rest of the neighbours.

“Shhhh. Rob’s asleep.” Steve whispers.

“I know that. But how the hell else are you gonna get in?”

“She’s gonna be so pissed.”

Eddie’s sure she probably will be, just not for the reason Steve’s thinking.

A moment later there’s a clinking on the other side of the door, the sound of the chain being taken off and keys turning in the lock. A bleary eyed Robin swings open the door, her hair mussed from sleep, cheek still indented with marks from her pillow.

“What the fuck?” She mumbles, glancing down at Steve who’s now attempting to crawl through the doorway.

Her eyes raise to Eddie’s face.

For a second, Eddie is hopeful.

He’d loved Robin. They were friends. Good friends. Kindred spirits.

But he knew without her ever having to tell him that she’d taken your side. Her silence had spoken volumes. It’s been years since they’d talked, and Steve avoided mentioning her almost as much as he did you. But he still hopes that maybe she’d be glad to see him. That the old cliche was true, about time being a great healer. Maybe she’d see him and forget all of the bullshit lies you’d fed her, and she’d welcome him back with open arms.

Instead, Robin scowls, her arms folded tight across her chest.

“What the fuck is going on?” She snaps.

“He’s lost his keys.” Eddie says with a shrug.

“Seriously Steve? Again?”

“M’sorry.” Steve whines. He’s made it as far as the living room, laying face down on the floor.

“Let me help you get him into bed.” Eddie offers.

“I’ve got it. You’ve done enough.” Robin hisses. She attempts to close the door in Eddie’s face, halted by his hand pressing flat against the wood.

“Rob, c’mon. He can barely stand, you’re never gonna be able to lift him yourself.”

“I’m okay.” Steve says, his voice muffled by the threadbare carpet his face is pressed into.

“You’re really not buddy.”

“Fine! Whatever, just make it quick.” Robin says.

If Eddie thought Steve was hard to carry before, he’s almost impossible to move now. He’s given up on even attempting to drag himself to bed, just a dead weight that Eddie takes hold of beneath the arms and slowly pulls down the only other corridor.

“Which room?” Eddie wheezes.

Robin doesn’t say a word, just juts her chin towards a door on the left. She steps around Eddie and Steve, thankfully opening the door so Eddie doesn’t have to struggle with it. He manages to clear the last few feet, using all of his strength to push his friend up onto the bed. Steve groans weakly and rolls onto his side.

Robin pushes Eddie aside, bending down to sweep Steve’s hair back from his forehead.

“I’ll be right back. M’gonna get you some water okay?”

Her tone is so much softer, all her earlier annoyance replaced with something gentle and quiet. It’s a lot closer to the Robin that Eddie remembers.

When she stands upright, her face hardens again. She glares at Eddie expectantly, and he takes it as his queue to go.

“I’ll see you soon Stevie. Hope you feel better.” Eddie whispers.

“Bye Ed.” Steve mumbles in reply.

Back in the living room, Eddie gets a chance to take in the apartment that he was too distracted to appreciate before.

It’s small. The entire living room and kitchen could fit into one of Eddie’s guest rooms. But it’s sweet. An odd mismatch of the roommates personalities and interests.

The walls are an eclectic mix of vintage movie posters and sports pennants, the shelves weighed down with vinyls and books. The single bulb that Robin’s turned on in the kitchen illuminates the open plan space with a warm amber glow, and the air smells faintly of patchouli.

It stirs a memory somewhere deep in the recesses of Eddie’s mind: he’d been in Robin’s room at her parent’s place once, and she’d had incense burning on her bedside table. She was using it to mask the smell of cigarettes, you and Eddie and Steve huddled up by her bedroom window, laughing and blowing the smoke out to the street below.

“You can go now.” Robin says coldly.

Eddie sighs.

“Robbie. C’mon-“

“No. Don’t you Robbie me. Don’t try and talk to me like we’re friends.”

“We are. Or at least, we were. Why do you hate me so much?”

Robin slams the glass she’s holding down on the kitchen counter, water spilling over the edge.

“Is that a real question?”

“Look, I know she must have told you some stuff.”

“She told me everything! So are you really that surprised that I’m not happy to see you?”

Eddie’s not about to admit that he’s hazy on the details. Whatever everything entails is a mystery to him.

“I just thought that-“

“That what? If you stayed away for long enough we’d all forget what an asshole you are? Give me a fucking break.”

“Steve seems to be cool with it.” Eddie mumbles.

“Yeah well Steve’s more forgiving than me. He likes to see the good in everyone. But as far as I can tell, you’re just as much of a fuck up now as you were then. You’ve been back in town for how long? A couple of days? And you’ve already had one of my best friends showing up at my door in tears, then you drag the other back in here so drunk he’s half comatose.”

You’re like a black hole Eddie. You won’t be happy until you’ve sucked everyone else in and pulled them down with you. Robin hated him. Wayne looked at him with all too obvious disappointment in his eyes. You’re like a poison, creeping through the veins of people he loves, infecting them with the hatred you still carry for him.

“Yeah well, next time you’re with your best friend maybe you should ask her about her own part in all of this mess. If you want to think I’m an asshole then I can’t stop you Robin, but if you want to know the root cause of all this drama you should look a little closer to home.” Eddie sneers.

“Get out.” Robin whispers, the muscles in her jaw twitching from how hard her teeth grind together.

“Gladly.”

Eddie turns on his heels, hurrying down the narrow hallway. He slams the door hard behind him, loud enough that a neighbour across the hall screams out curses in response.

“Took your sweet time.” The cab driver mutters when Eddie clambers into the back seats once again.

“What the fuck do you care? You’re getting paid anyway.” Eddie bites back.

The driver tuts but thinks better of replying. They drive in stilted silence, Eddie stewing furiously, glaring out the windows at the darkened town, hating how every landmark reminds him of you.

————————————💌———————————

Gentle reminder that I’m not doing a taglist for this series!

[lil-quinnie]

fr

[lil-quinnie]

do you wanna come over? - eddie munson

Eddie Munson x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Summary:

You’re one of the most beautiful and popular girls in Hawkins, and you’ve set your sights on the Freak, Eddie Munson. Little do you know, he’s a virgin - and also pretty in love with you.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), protected p in v, unprotected p in v, oral (m and f receiving), cum eating sort of, restraints, virgin!eddie, perv!eddie, drug use, getting walked in on

Word Count: 9.7k

A/N:

This is set up for a part 2, so let me know if you’d like to see that soon! Thank you @punkrockmlchael for my banner and for reading, and thank you @the-witty-pen-name , @losingmygrasponreality, @lesservillain!

Eddie Munson was your weed dealer and nothing more.

Well, occasionally shrooms. Or Special K. Basically, he was your dealer with no strings attached.

You weren’t even sure if you liked the guy. You didn’t know him. He was very…vocal from what you saw of him in the cafeteria, but he always came along with his small group of nerdy friends. You never saw him with a girl. Not once.

There was no way Eddie Munson was a virgin, right? The dude had done his senior year 3 times now, he was like 20 years old. You figured the girls at school probably just weren’t his taste anymore.

Why Eddie was on your mind so much lately was honestly beyond you. You had never thought of him much before, unless you needed some drugs for the weekend. But now it was like he was always on your mind. You even brought it up to your best friend, Chrissy, after practice.

“There’s just no way he’s a virgin, right?” You asked her as you moved into a split, feeling the muscles in your thighs stretching.

Chrissy giggled as she did the same. “Why are you so interested in Eddie Munson’s sex life all of a sudden?”

“I’m not,” you said quickly. “It just…doesn’t make sense. Have you ever seen him with a girl?”

“Of course not,” Chrissy said. “But who knows what he gets up to outside of school.”

Her words stuck with you. Because you wanted to know what Eddie got up to outside of school.

You found yourself fantasizing about it, dreaming about it. When Eddie first started making his appearances in your dreams, it shocked you. You had never been attracted to him until that night. You dreamt of him shirtless, tattoos exposed on his lithe body. He rolled a joint with his dexterous fingers and lit it, taking a long drag before handing it to you.

“Your turn, princess,” he’d said in a lower, much more suave voice than you’d ever actually heard from him. You grabbed for the joint but he held it out of your reach, bringing it back to his own lips and breathing deeply before leaning in and breathing the smoke out into your mouth. You had moaned against his lips, feeling his smirk against your own mouth.

He looked like a sex god. Sometimes he would grab his guitar and play you a song. Sometimes he would undress you and eat your pussy all night, other times he would make you worship his cock until he was satisfied and cumming all over your face. You especially liked it when he held you down and fucked you like your body begged to be fucked.

Then you’d wake up in a cold sweat, clit throbbing between your legs in a way that had you desperate to go back to sleep and let him finish you off. You’d have to face him at school again, just the usual nerdy guy you remembered.

You figured you had to make a move.

You approached him during lunch, short little green and yellow cheer skirt swaying as you crossed the room towards him. You caught his attention about halfway across the room and he did a double take, wide eyes landing on you as his friends turned to see what had distracted him.

“Hey, Eddie,” you greeted, a small smile on your lips.

“Uh, h-hey,” he said, smoothing a hand through his wild hair. It didn’t do much to tame the curls. “What’s up?”

“I was hoping maybe we could meet up after school?” You asked, your voice obviously flirtatious. One of his friends - Gareth? - raised his eyebrows at him, looking between the two of you with a barely contained smirk.

“Oh! Yeah, for sure,” he said. “The usual? In the woods behind the school?”

“Sounds good,” you agreed. “See you later…Eddie.”

You made a point to sway your hips as you walked away, and you could feel Eddie’s and his friends’ eyes on you. Your ass, specifically. You knew what you had been blessed with, and you weren’t afraid to use it.

That day after school, you snuck off and headed down the familiar path through the wooded area. The leaves crunched beneath your white sneakers as you walked, the October chill making you pull your sweater tighter around your body. No one was at the meetup spot when you arrived, so you sat on top of the table, legs crossed as you waited.

It wasn’t long before the crunching of leaves gave away another presence. Eddie approached the table, eyes locked on your form. God, those legs in that little skirt. He thought about what it might be like to spread them, to breathe in your scent and bury his face between your thighs. He had frequent fantasies of stealing a pair of your panties during practice and bringing them home, bringing them up to his face and breathing deeply, wrapping them around his cock as he fisted it, spilling his cum all over the pretty material. He had no idea what your panties actually looked like, but surely they were as perfect as you.

He carried his metal lunchbox, stocked with weed. His gait was slow as he got closer to you, taking his sweet time to drink in your appearance until he’d had his fill. When he reached the table, he sat the lunch pail down on the wood with a bang.

“What can I get you today, m’lady?” He asked, a playful smile on his face as he performed an exaggerated bow. “A half for 20, perhaps?”

“I’ll take a half,” you said. “And..do you have any more of that Special K?

Eddie slowly looked up at you with a mischievous grin. “Yeah, back at the house. I’ll have to get it. I could bring it tomorrow.”

You shifted from your position, crossing the other leg, and Eddie just about combusted on the spot as he caught the slightest glimpse of your panties. Pink and lacy, exactly what he pictured you’d wear. It completely threw him off.

“Hello? Eddie?”

Your voice snapped Eddie back to reality. “Shit, sorry. What?”

“I said you could bring it tomorrow.” You smiled. “Or I could ride with you to get it then. I just can’t tonight because of practice…”

Eddie swallowed. You really wanted to ride with him back to his place? Alone? “Uh, okay, sure.”

You debated making your next move, wondering if it would be too far, but you went for it anyway. “So, Eddie…I was just wondering. Do you ever take any payment that’s not…money?”

Eddie furrowed his brows. “Like what? Sometimes my car guy does work for me in exchange for weed, but…” The look on your face told him that’s not what you’d been talking about. “Oh, jesus, no. You don’t have to do that. If you need me to spot you, I can-“

“But what if I want to?”

Eddie just stared at you. “You want to…?”

“Oh my god, Eddie.” You spread your legs, reaching for his waist and pulling him into you. Your hand dragged across his cock over his jeans, feeling him already hard and even bigger than you’d imagined. “Why don’t you just let me make you feel good?”

Eddie’s knees felt weak, his heart thundering in his chest as you pulled him close to you. This couldn’t be real, he had to be dreaming. In fact, he was pretty sure he’d had this exact dream before. His hands rested on your thighs to hold himself upright - god, your soft, bare thighs… He started to speak, stopping to clear his throat. “You really don’t have to do this-“

You squeezed his cock through the material, making him moan out loudly. “Does this show you how badly I want to do this?”

His voice cracked when he spoke. “I- yeah, I think I get the idea.” He looked around, like he was expecting someone to jump out from behind a tree and literally catch him with his pants down. “You’re- you’re fucking with me, right? This is all just a big joke?”

“Eddie, I would never do that,” you said earnestly. Your brows furrowed as you looked up at him. “Have you really never done this before?”

“I-“ Eddie backed up, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. “No, I haven’t, okay? I’m not like that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with-“

“No, I know,” he said quickly. “I just…I haven’t.”

“Why not?” you asked again. “Are you into girls? Because it’s okay if you’re not-“

“Yes, I’m into girls!” Eddie rubbed a hand over his face, like he was frustrated. “I haven’t…done things like that before.”

“You haven’t done things like this, or you haven’t done things at all?”

Eddie was quiet. Then, finally- “At all.”

You reached for him, your hand grazing his. He startled at the touch, the electricity that shot through his body at the smallest feeling. “I don’t care if you’re a virgin, Eddie. I just want to make you feel good.”

He looked back at you, letting you pull him close again. “Why?”

“I’ve been…thinking about you,” you admitted.

“Thinking about me?”

“Stop being so coy,” you teased him. “Do you not know how hot you are?”

Eddie shook his head. “No one thinks that.”

“I do.” You said it easily, quickly. “I’ve been thinking about you nonstop. Thinking about all the things I want to do to you…all the things I want you to do to me…”

“Yeah?” He said, his voice low and breathless. “Like what?”

“Just thinkin’ about you, and what those long fingers can do,” you said, fingers trailing along his own. “About your mouth, your tongue.” You ran your hands down his chest. “About how big your cock is, how you’d use it…”

Eddie’s breath hitched in his throat. He could barely breathe when you talked like that. “You…you think those things about me?”

“Of course I do.” You brought his fingers up to your lips, gently pressing them there as you smirked up at him. Your tongue darted out and licked his fingertips and he groaned just under his breath. “I think about you all the time.”

“Why have you never, uh,” he cleared his throat again. “Never said anything before?”

You shrugged, continuing to tease the older boy. “Guess I just got the nerve up.”

Eddie scoffed. “You’re like the hottest girl in school. Why would you ever be afraid to ask someone out? Especially me?”

“You think I’m the hottest girl in school?” You smirked, placing his finger in your mouth and sucking on it. His knees buckled, his cock impossibly hard in his jeans at this point.

Your hands roamed down his chest until you reached his belt buckle. You looked up at him for permission, his heavy lidded gaze glued to yours. He nodded once, and you undid the belt, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling the zipper down painstakingly slowly.

Eddie whimpered as you freed his cock, the massive, thick length catching you by surprise. Eddie reached for the table to hold himself up as you wrapped your fist around it, slowly stroking him.

“H-oh,” he breathed out, hips jerking forward into your touch. His tip leaked precum already, the head a deep red and cock achingly hard. He twitched in your hold, telling you he wanted, needed more.

“Why don’t you lean against the table?” You offered, sliding off and leaving the room for him to sit.

“Yeah, yeah okay,” he said, moving to take your spot. He leaned against the wood, his long legs stretching to the ground. You sunk to your knees in the dirt in front of him, stroking him as you stuck your tongue out to lick his tip. He groaned again, knuckles turning white where they gripped the edge of the table.

You wrapped your plush lips around his cock and began taking him deeper down your throat. He cried out at the feeling, one of his hands moving to hold onto the back of your head.

“Oh, shit,” he moaned, head tilting back but not wanting to miss any part of what you were doing. “Fuck. Yeah, that’s…that feels nice…”

You swirled your tongue around the vein on the underside of his cock, paying extra attention to the head when you’d come up. He was a moaning, writhing mess above you as he thrusted his hips into your mouth, and you were pretty sure they would hear him up at the school if he kept this up.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he whined, his chest heaving. “Shit, that’s so good.”

You brought a hand up to stroke the seam of his balls, and his stomach muscles clenched, his cock twitching in your mouth. You massaged them in your hand, and Eddie fell apart above you, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna- gonna c-um, shit shit shit-“

That was all the warning you got before Eddie was shooting ropes of his cum into your mouth, down your throat, as he moaned loudly. It surprised you a little and you gagged at first, but swallowed every drop he gave you. You pulled off of him with a pop and he watched the spit trail connecting your lips to his cock.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed when you stood, dirt tracks on your neat white cheerleading socks and your bare knees. He awkwardly tucked himself back away as you brushed the dirt off your skin. “Um…thank you?”

You giggled. “No problem…Did you like it?”

“Did I-“ he huffed a laugh. “I mean, you made my dreams come true, baby. That was pretty fuckin’ awesome.”

“Yeah? Your dreams came true?” You teased as you leaned forward, rubbing his thighs over his jeans. His eyes shamelessly lingered on your body.

“Fuck yeah,” he breathed.

“I liked it, too,” you hummed. “Made me sooo wet.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “Just from sucking me off?”

“Yeah,” you giggled. “It was hot.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“What, wanna see?” Eddie just watched you so you stood, turning around and bending over while lifting your tiny skirt over your ass. The small wet spot on your panties was visible from behind you, confirmed by the low groan Eddie let out.

“Christ,” he muttered.

“I feel bad I didn’t get to make you feel good,” Eddie said when you stood and returned to the table, sliding onto it next to him.

“Next time,” you promised him.

“There’s gonna be a next time?” He raised his eyebrows, like he expected this to be a one and done thing between you.

“Well, yeah,” you gently nudged his shoulder. “I don’t really just suck dick in the forest and move on with my life.”

Eddie laughed lightly. “That’s good for me then, I guess.” He snapped his fingers as a memory came back to him. “Oh! You’re coming to my place tomorrow? For the K?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “Why, you got something planned?”

He smirked but just shrugged. “Nah. Nothing planned.”

“I’ll take the half, though.”

“Oh, yeah.” He reached into his pail and pulled the baggie out. “I’d feel bad charging you for this now, but I also feel bad not charging you for it.”

You laughed - “I mean, I won’t complain if you don’t want to charge me this time.”

“Then it’s on the house,” he smiled at you. “Thanks again, by the way.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you chuckled. “I wanted to. Believe me.” You stood from the table, shoving the baggie of weed into your bag. “I’ve got to get going…practice.”

“Oh, yeah.” Eddie seemed bummed to see you go, like he wanted to ask you to stay longer or tag along to watch you at practice. “You got extra, uh…socks?”

You looked down, sheepish grin on your face at the sight of the dirt. “Yeah. I do.” You turned as you began walking back to the school. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ed!”

“Bye!” He called after you, feeling like a total idiot.

Back in the school, you shed your bag in your practice locker and changed into a clean pair of cheer socks. By the time you joined Chrissy in the gym, she was giving you a knowing smirk.

“And where were you?” She asked innocently. She definitely clocked the remaining dirt on your knees.

“Just…doing some shopping.”

“With Eddie?”

You blushed. “Maybe.”

“Oh my god,” she giggled. “…Was he a virgin?”

You gave her a look. “Not for long.”

Chrissy practically squealed with laughter, falling over backwards. As the coach came over and started practice, you focused, getting your mind centered on practice and not a certain big-dicked virgin metalhead. But as you performed your tricks, tumbling down the mat and flying as your teammates tossed you into the air, your mind was locked on big brown eyes only.

The next day, you had plans to meet Eddie after practice and go to his place. You headed into the gym in your uniform with your bag over your shoulder, ready to focus on your stunts, but you nearly tripped over your own feet when you saw Eddie sitting in the bleachers.

No one watched cheerleading practice besides a couple of the girls’ boyfriends, so it was a shock to see him there. And you knew he was there for you. He gave you a small wave as your eyes met his, and you couldn’t help laughing.

You went on with practice, performing your back handsprings and tosses as a flyer. Eddie watched the entire time, his attention fully on you. His eyes followed you everywhere you went, amazed by the stunts you were able to pull off. Every now and then he caught the slightest glimpse of your panties beneath your skirt, and that was enough for him.

After practice, you lingered until all your teammates were gone. Eddie watched you curiously, wondering what you were up to. Finally when the last of your cheer teammates had left, you nodded towards the locker room, and Eddie’s eyes widened, but he jumped up to follow you anyway.

Eddie trailed after you into the locker room, watching the sway of your hips and ass as you walked. It was deserted, all of your fellow cheerleaders having already showered and left. You stripped out of your uniform right in front of Eddie, pulling your top off and leaving yourself bare chested. Eddie’s eyes practically bugged out of his head, your bare tits on full display for his eyes. You took off your skirt and panties next, throwing them on the bench.

“Let me go take a shower, then we can go.”

Eddie watched as you turned and left towards the shower. His gaze dropped to the pile of clothes on the bench - particularly the pink panties beneath your skirt. He thought about it - really thought about it, because he’s not that much of a creep - but he snatched them, stuffing them into his jeans pocket.

A few minutes later you came back wrapped in a towel with one wrapped around your hair as well. He watched you, amazed, as you grabbed some clean clothes from your locker. You dropped the towel right in front of him and his eyes took in every inch of your body as you pulled on your underwear then a pair of jeans and a shirt.

“Ready to go?” You asked. Eddie had to shake himself out of his lustful stupor to answer your question.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

You followed him out to the parking lot, duffel bag over your shoulder. He led you to his van, opening the passenger door with a bow. “Ladies first.”

You climbed in with a giggle, buckling your seatbelt as Eddie shut the door for you. He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the van. You watched out the window and listened to Eddie’s heavy music as he drove to his trailer in Forest Hills.

“Welcome to my castle,” he said as he opened the front door of the trailer for you. You gave him a smile as you walked in, seeing the living room decorated with baseball caps, the kitchen littered with trash and dirty dishes. “Sorry, the maid took the week off,” Eddie said as he quickly cleaned up as much as he could. You didn’t mind.

“You can come back, if you want,” he said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the bedroom at the end of the hall. “It’s a mess, but…”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” you assured him.

You followed him into his room, taking a seat on his bed. He went searching through his stuff, finally surfacing with a baggie of powder clutched between his fingers. “Special K. Peaceful bliss, just moments away.”

You took it from him, passing him the money. You opened the baggie and collected some on your finger, bringing it to your nose to snort the powder. You held some out to Eddie, who snorted it off your finger as well.

A comfortable peace washed over your body quickly. You were feeling good as you laid back on the bed, the euphoria washing over you. Eddie laid on the bed next to you.

“This is some good shit,” you laughed. Eddie laughed, too, turning to you.

“You’re so hot, you know that?” He said, voice lowering as he looked over your body in his bed. “You are so fucking hot.”

You giggled. “You’re hot, too.”

“That’s not true,” he said, suddenly shy. “No one thinks that.”

“I do,” you said, your hand resting on the side of his face. “I think you’re so hot. And kind, and handsome, and funny and interesting.”

Eddie leaned closer to you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, and he was so close now his nose was brushing yours.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he told you as his lips moved closer and closer to yours. “My little slut. You liked sucking my cock out in the woods behind the school, didn’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed against him, his lips now grazing yours, pressing together in a needy kiss. “Loved sucking your cock. So fucking big, so sexy.”

Eddie moaned as he kissed you, his hand roaming your body, up your shirt and over your breasts. “Can I taste you, princess?”

“Hmm?” You hummed the question, mind hazy from his kisses.

“Can I taste you?” He asked again, lips moving down to nip at your neck. “Wanna taste that pussy, princess. I know it’s so good, so fucking sweet and wet. Please let me have a taste.”

“Okay,” you agreed as his kisses trailed lower, his lips moving down over your breasts and stomach, to your thighs. He settled himself between your legs, kissing all over your thighs and over your core through your light purple panties. He could see the wet spot on them, it made his mouth water with his desire to taste you.

He slid your panties down your legs, your pussy finally revealed to him. It was everything he imagined, so fucking hot, and bare all for him. He dove in, tongue sliding through your folds to taste you. You moaned, hand gripping into his wild hair as he devoured you.

Eddie didn’t exactly know what he was doing, but he was eager and excited and that made it even better. He teased your clit with his tongue, wrapping his lips around it and sucking lightly. Then he moved lower, tongue teasing your hole as his nose brushed against your clit.

You moaned, hips bucking up against Eddie’s mouth. “Feels so good,” you moaned, hands trailing over your nipples as Eddie ate your pussy like a man starved.

He started grinding his hips against the bed as he ate you, searching for friction against his hard cock. He rutted frantically against the bed, tongue buried in you as his cock throbbed in his pants, moaning into you as he neared release himself. All from the thought of what he was doing to you, the reality of having his face buried in your cunt, his rock hard dick rubbing against the comforter.

“Eddie, I’m g’na cum,” you moaned desperately as Eddie worked his tongue over your core even more, fingers pulling at his brown locks.

“Cum for me baby, please,” he begged, fully losing himself between your legs, tongue working against your pussy somehow expertly as your release neared.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, Eddie! Oh god, Eddie!” You cried out as you came, hips bucking against his mouth as you rode out your orgasm on his tongue. He kept thrusting against the bed, but hearing you moan his name as you pulled his hair and grinded against his mouth set him off and then he was moaning, cumming in his jeans as you came down beneath his tongue.

He let you ride out your orgasm and then he pulled back, cheeks bright red and a wet spot on his jeans from where he came.

“Did you…?” You asked, looking down at his lap.

“Uh…yeah,” he said shyly, knowing there was no getting out of this with a lie.

You giggled, but there was no judgement behind it. “That’s pretty hot, honestly,”

“It is?” He asked, still blushing furiously. “I didn’t mean to, I just-“

“Couldn’t help yourself?” You trailed a finger down his shoulder, over his chest. He shuddered.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I just…can’t help myself when I’m around you.”

It was flattering. You loved that he was so weak for you. It made you feel powerful. “You’re so sexy, Eddie.”

He trembled beneath your touch.

That night, when Eddie was alone, he pulled your panties from his pocket. He wasn’t sure if you hadn’t noticed him take them, or if you just hadn’t cared. But he had them, and now he was bringing them up to his nose, breathing in your scent with a groan. He unbuttoned his pants and took his cock out, wrapping the panties around his shaft.

He thought of you. He thought about you wearing these panties during cheerleading practice, the way you’d do your jumps and spread your legs for anyone to see. The way you looked him in the eye just before you did your splits, like you wanted him watching specifically.

He began stroking his cock with the panties wrapped around his length, thinking of you. He thought about eating your pussy, the way you had come undone beneath his tongue. The way you had tasted.

He moaned your name, imagining you were in the room with him now. Imagining you were here riding his cock, tits bouncing as you bounced on him, taking every inch of his dick. Eddie stroked his cock faster, his release approaching faster and faster.

He came to the thought of his cock disappearing into your tight little pussy, the thought of finally fucking you. The way you’d be so desperate for it, legs spread wide as he sunk into your cunt, tits bouncing when he snapped his hips into you. It was enough to send ropes of cum shooting over his fist and all over the panties and his thighs and stomach.

Eddie was down bad for you.

It was a couple of days later when you approached Eddie at school again. His face lit up when he saw you, frantically making room at the lunch table and pushing Gareth out of the way.

“What the fuck?” Gareth asked as Eddie shoved him to the side, but his eyes went wide in understanding when he saw you approaching.

“Hey, Eds,” you greeted him, hand sliding around his shoulders in a way that gave him goosebumps. He looked up at you adoringly, big brown eyes full of something like love.

“Hey,” he greeted you back. “What’s up?”

You leaned over so you were closer to him, leaning over the table with your cleavage in your uniform top right in front of his face. “Do you have any shrooms?”

“S-shrooms?” Eddie asked like he’d never heard the word, too distracted by what was in front of him. “Oh, yeah. I do. At the house.”

“Could I ride with you after school to get them…?”

Eddie swallowed, completely lost in a trance, forgetting about his friends at the table watching this whole interaction. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Cool,” you smiled. “I’ll see you after school then?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Eddie’s gaze was locked on you as you walked away, that little cheer skirt so short he could just barely catch a glimpse of-

“Munson!”

Eddie snapped out of his you trance to rejoin reality and his friends trying to catch his attention. “What?”

“What the hell is that all about?” Gareth asked. “She’s been talking to you a lot lately.”

Eddie blushed, looking down at his tray of food. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing? It doesn’t seem like nothing,” Jeff said. “Cheerleaders don’t just talk to us.”

“She just wants to buy some stuff. That’s all.”

The guys exchanged a look. “Soooo,” Gareth drew out the word, “are you gonna tell us who gave you all those hickies?”

Eddie froze, suddenly self conscious. He didn’t even realize they’d been noticeable. He pulled his leather jacket higher around his neck.

“Oh, come on, you can’t pretend we didn’t already see them,” Grant laughed. “Just tell us!”

Eddie looked around. “Okay, yes, it was her. But shut up! Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

The guys all buzzed with excitement, talking over each other as they leaned in closer to Eddie. “How the hell did that happen? What did you guys do? Tell us everything.”

Eddie shook his head. “Uh uh. No way. I’m not going to kiss and tell.”

“When I kissed Carla, you made me tell you everything!” Gareth protested. “Don’t be lame.”

“You kissed Carla Peters for 30 seconds in 7th grade,” Eddie reminded him. “I think we’re dealing with a difference in maturity level here.”

Gareth rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he muttered. “I would tell you if I lost my virginity. It’s a momentous occasion.”

“I didn’t lose my virginity,” Eddie whispered. “…Yet.”

After school, Eddie watched your cheer practice again. The other girls took notice this time, giving you strange looks. You heard them whispering - “What is that Freak doing here? What a creep.” You felt kind of bad for subjecting him to the gossip of your teammates, but they all shut up when you left with your arm linked in his.

He led you to his van, opening the door for you once again. This time on the ride to his house you chatted, giggling at the jokes Eddie would make. He tried to give you a crash course on D&D, but it was all going over your head.

At the house he held the door open for you, and you slipped inside, taking a seat on his couch. “Um…I know I have those shrooms somewhere…give me a sec.”

You looked all around the living room as Eddie took off to his bedroom, searching through drawers and cabinets. You examined the wall of hats, all the different places they came from and things they represented. By the time Eddie came back with the baggie in his hand, you had just looked at the last one.

“Got ‘em,” Eddie said, handing you the bag. You slipped it into your purse. “Uh…do you want to stay and hang out?”

“Of course,” you smiled at him, watching as he sat down on the couch. You slowly walked over next to him, his eyes on the way your legs moved beneath your skirt. He sure was weak for the uniform, you noticed.

You stood in front of him, looking down at his nervous form. He looked up at you with wide eyes, like he didn’t know what to do with his hands as you stood over him.

You trailed your hands down his arms, reaching his hands and placing them on your hips. He gulped, like he was in shock. But his grip tightened on your hips, feeling the material of your cheer skirt under his hands, wanting to push it up and-

You climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Eddie accidentally let out a low groan, betraying just how far gone he was for you already. You could feel how hard he was, the bulge through his jeans pressing up against your core. You wanted him, so wet your panties were soaked. You needed him.

“Eddie,” you whined, moving your hips against him. He groaned again, grip tightening even more.

“You look so fucking hot,” Eddie said through a clenched jaw, like he was trying to hold himself together. “You’re…a fucking dream, Jesus Christ-“

You leaned in to kiss at his neck, biting gently and making Eddie groan again. His hands were holding onto you as tight as possible, like he was afraid you’d disappear.

“You can touch me,” you said, wanting him to. You wanted to feel his hands all over, wanted to feel him. Every part of him.

He let go of his death grip on your hips and slowly roamed down your thighs as you continued kissing his neck, feeling the bare skin of your legs. He remembered what it was like to taste you, and the thought only made him harder in his jeans. He wanted to do it again and again.

Next his hands moved up, slowly feeling your sides until he reached your tits. They filled his hands perfectly, making him moan as he massaged them. He was desperate to get his mouth on them, to wrap his lips around your nipples, to suck on them.

He reached down and pulled your cheer top up until he was dropping it on his living room floor. He fumbled with your bra clasp for a while before he was able to remove that, too. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of your naked tits, mouth watering. He dove in, wrapping his lips around your nipple and making you gasp.

“Eddie,” you moaned, pleasantly surprised at his boldness. He was learning fast.

“So fucking sexy,” he moaned as his tongue swirled around your nipple, the sensation sending chills through your body. “Can’t believe you’re on my lap right now. Pretty little princess has a thing for the Freak, huh?”

You giggled lightly, eyes closed as you enjoyed the feeling of Eddie’s mouth. “When the Freak is this hot…”

Eddie chuckled. His hands gripped your ass as he switched to the other breast. He guided your hips to grind against him, as if it was possible for him to get any harder than he already was. He’d never been this hard in his life.

You tugged on his shirt and he got the hint, leaning forward to pull it off. Your hands roamed his tattooed chest, feeling the muscles of his chest, the soft skin of his stomach.

“Do you want to take me to your room?” you asked him, your voice a mere whisper against his lips.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Eddie said, then you were squealing as he stood, lifting you up. He stumbled a little and you laughed, but he made his way down the hall to his bedroom, leaving the discarded clothes on the living room floor.

He carefully dropped you down onto his messy bed, landing with a giggle. He kicked his shoes off and quickly undid his belt. You watched as he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, shoving them down his legs. You could really see the size of his erection with nothing but his boxers on, and it was just as impressive as you remembered.

Next he slid your shoes off, leaving the white cheer socks in place. He slowly climbed up your body, pulling your skirt and panties down your legs. With you now fully naked, he looked at you wide eyed. “God, I can’t believe I’m about to fuck you.”

“Can’t believe you’re about to fuck me, or can’t believe you’re about to lose your virginity?” you teased with a laugh.

“Both,” Eddie smiled. He placed kisses all over your skin, his tongue darting out to taste every now and then. You were like a drug - he was utterly addicted to you already.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked him as he reached your lips again, kissing along your jaw and cheek before pressing his lips to yours.

“Uh, I do, actually,” he said sheepishly. “Gareth bought them for me as a joke. Now I guess joke’s on him, because they’re getting used well before he gets to touch a girl.”

You laughed at that - “Well, works out for us, I guess.”

Eddie reached over into the drawer of his bedside table, pulling the unopened box out. He felt a sense of pride as he opened it, pulling out one of the foil packets. This was really happening. He had a pretty girl naked in his bed. Finally.

You pushed his boxers down as he ripped the condom wrapper open with his teeth, sliding the rubber onto his cock just like he’d learned in health class. He was grateful Gareth got the biggest size as part of the joke - but it fit perfectly. Ha.

Eddie leaned over you with one arm by your head and the other between your bodies, pumping his cock a couple times as he lined it up at your entrance. He took a deep breath he hoped you didn’t notice, then he started pushing inside. You gasped at the intrusion, fingers gripping his bedsheets.

“Jesus, Ed,” you breathed, his cock nearly taking your breath away already.

“What?” he asked, stopping his movements. “Are you okay? Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, no,” you assured him. “You’re just fucking huge. But keep going, please.”

His ego properly stroked, he began sinking further into you. He was barely holding it together, a whimper involuntarily escaping from his lips. You were so unbelievably tight, hot, and wet…it felt better than his fist had on his best nights, and watching your face contorting in pleasure every inch he sunk into you was unreal. He had to shut his eyes to keep from cumming right that second.

He bottomed out, and you had never felt so full in your life. None of the guys you’d been with had been this big. Eddie reached down and spread your legs wide, holding them open as he pulled his hips back and snapped them back into you. He fucked into you quickly, filling you completely with every thrust.

“God, you- you’re so flexible, fuck-“

His pleasure-drunk rambling would have made you laugh if he wasn’t currently splitting you wide open with his cock, and looking unbelievably sexy while doing it. He threw his head back, long hair flying backwards. You raked your nails down his chest, making him moan loudly.

“Feels so good, Eddie, fuck, even better than my dreams-“

“You dream about me?” Eddie huffed a breathless laugh. “Fuck, princess, I dream about you too.”

You smiled and opened your mouth to speak just before a particularly hard thrust hit your bundle of nerves perfectly, making your back arch off his bed and the words on your tongue turn into a loud, high moan.

Fuck, the noises you were making were better than any porn he’d ever seen. He didn’t know how he was still going, he’d felt right on the edge since he got inside of you.

“Your pussy is fucking incredible, holy shit-“

Eddie’s hips stuttered into you, his rhythm faltering. He adjusted you into a mating press, fucking you wildly as the most pathetic yet sexy moans left his lips.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie,” you moaned, gripping onto his arms tightly. They were firmer and bigger than you expected, and you could feel his muscles contracting as he put all his effort into fucking you.

“I’m getting real close, baby,” he said, his voice strained. His arms were starting to tremble, his thrusts more frantic and needy. “But I need you to come first.”

You reached down between your sweaty bodies and rubbed circles on your clit, your body writhing beneath him. Eddie let out another pathetic moan at the sight, his rhythm faltering once again, his thrusts getting harder yet slower, hips snapping into you aggressively.

“Ohmygod, Eddie, Eddie, fuck! Yes yes yes, keep fucking me just like that-“

Your orgasm washed over you in a wave, hips grinding up against Eddie’s thrusts as you continued rubbing your clit. Your other hand pinched at your nipples, and the show sent Eddie reeling.

“I’m cumming, oh fuck, I’m…I-I love you! Shit-” Eddie cried out as he came, his eyes squeezing shut as his cum shot into you, filling you up with his spend. He held onto you tightly as he came, it felt endless, like he could cum forever. His body was trembling, hands shaking from their grip on your legs.

Your mouth dropped open in shock at his words, but Eddie didn’t process it until he came down from his high, breathing heavily on top of you.

“Oh, shit-“ Eddie said, sitting up and looking at you with a horrified expression. “I did not mean to say that, I don’t-“

You just stared at him, and then you burst out laughing. Eddie blushed a deep red as you laughed, but eventually he joined in. The two of you giggled together, you leaning your head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Eds. I’m not upset.” You held his hand, intertwining your fingers. “It’s a little early for that, but I like the sentiment.”

Eddie laughed. “I don’t know why I said that. It just came out.”

“The sex was that good?” you teased.

“Oh yeah.”

The next day at school, you stuck close by Eddie. You had decided to try dating, and you were unbelievably happy. You walked hand in hand, drawing the attention of absolutely every Hawkins High student. Chrissy’s jaw dropped when she saw the two of you, but then she gave you a bright smile - you knew she’d be in your corner no matter what.

You couldn’t keep your hands off each other. You had never felt so obsessed with a guy before, but you were head over heels for Eddie, and you didn’t care who knew or what anyone thought.

At lunch, you got your food and headed for the Hellfire table. You took a seat right next to Eddie, sharing the end of the table. Eddie beamed, putting his arm around you and pulling you into a kiss that was far too heated for the school cafeteria. His tongue slipped into your mouth, pressing against yours as he kissed you passionately.

The guys stared. Gareth looked at the others - “What the fuck?” he mouthed. Jeff just looked at him wide eyed, while Grant looked impressed. Mike and Dustin looked at each other, shocked.

When you finally pulled apart, you realized you had an audience. “Hi! I’m so sorry.”

Eddie didn’t look sorry at all. He looked happier than the guys had ever seen him. “Guys, this is my girlfriend,” he said with pride, introducing you by name.

The guys thought this had to be a joke. There’s no way you and Eddie had really hooked up, and there was no way you were together now. It made no sense. Yet here you were, all over each other like no one was watching.

You and Eddie shared your lunches with each other as you ate, the sickeningly sweet display holding the attention of every guy at the table.

No one said anything for a while, and you and Eddie were so caught up in your own little world, neither of you noticed. Finally, you got up to go get some napkins, and Gareth took his chance. He cleared his throat, and Eddie looked over at his best friend with a confused expression.

“Care to explain?” Gareth asked, the rest of the table watching on with interest.

“Explain what…?” Eddie asked, genuinely lost.

Gareth did a dramatic gesture towards you. “That.”

“What’s there to explain?” Eddie played with a piece of his food before popping it into his mouth. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Since when?” Gareth asked. “What the fuck has been going on?”

Eddie looked at your figure from across the cafeteria before turning back to his friends. “Since last night. She came over and we…had a nice night, and I asked her to be my girlfriend.”

“Did you lose your virginity?” Grant asked, the only one of the group who seemed excited for his friend.

Eddie glanced at Mike and Dustin, who were lost in their own conversation now. He nodded, and Grant held out a hand for a high five, which Eddie sheepishly accepted.

“Did she buy from you?” Gareth asked.

“Yeah…why?”

Gareth looked around again before he spoke. “I just…you don’t think she’s only messing around with you for the drugs, right? Cheerleaders don’t talk to us, they definitely don’t sleep with us.”

His words set a fire in Eddie, making him absolutely furious. “What did you just say about her?”

Gareth had never seen Eddie so angry, like flames flickering behind his deep brown eyes. ”Nothing, man. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

You came back to the table then, all smiles and totally oblivious to the tension at the table. “I got you some too, baby,” you said softly to Eddie, handing him a couple of napkins. Eddie gave Gareth another harsh look, but moved on.

When you’d finished eating, Eddie kissed you again, before leaning his forehead against yours. “Wanna get out of here, baby?”

You giggled. “Where to?”

“My van?” he proposed, voice low and seductive yet still fully audible to the rest of the table. Gareth pretended to gag.

“Sounds good,” you agreed with a mischievous smile, standing along with Eddie. He grabbed your hand as the two of you rushed from the building, leaving Eddie’s friends dumbfounded. Chrissy gave you a smile as you left, but her boyfriend, Jason, scowled and whispered something to his friends.

In the parking lot, Eddie opened his van, letting you climb inside before he joined you. In the back you immediately met in a heated kiss, pulling at each other’s clothes and touching each other everywhere.

You pushed Eddie’s jacket off before tugging at his shirt, smirking when he quickly pulled it over his head. He pulled your panties off, leaving your cheer skirt on. He quickly undid his belt and jeans and pushed them down just enough to free his cock.

“Turn over for me, baby,” he said, pumping his cock in his fist. “Want that cute little ass in the air, ready for me.”

You did as Eddie said, moving onto your hands and knees before lowering your upper half to the floor of the van. Eddie groaned at the sight, hands rubbing over the skin of your ass beneath your skirt. He hiked the skirt up around your hips, leaving you exposed to him.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked him.

Eddie froze. “Shit. No, I didn’t bring one.”

You thought for a moment. “It’s okay. I want you anyway.”

Eddie’s grip on your hips tightened. “Are you sure, princess?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice assured. “I want it, Eds. I don’t care if you don’t have one, I need you in me.”

Eddie groaned, pressing his hard cock against you. He thrusted his hips lightly, grinding himself against your ass. “God, you’re going to be the death of me, princess. You’re fucking unreal.”

You felt him press against your pussy, sliding between your folds and collecting your wetness on his cock. The feeling was like heaven for him, the memories of being inside you came rushing back, making his dick throb. He had to have you again. And this time he’d get to feel you raw? The thought alone had his knees weak.

He pushed the head of his cock inside you, the stretch already too good. You both moaned as he filled you, inch by thick inch. When he bottomed out he wasted no time thrusting into you again and again, a quick pace rocking the van right there in the school parking lot for anyone who came outside to see.

The old van squeaked as it rocked back and forth with the power of Eddie’s frantic thrusting, the windows fogged up from the heat you two created together. He used his grip on your hips to pull your body back into him every time he thrusted into you, making them all the more intense.

He reached forward and pulled on your ponytail, jerking your head back and making you moan. “Eddie!”

“Oh fuck, you like that, baby? You want me to be a little rough?”

“Yes, fuck,” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut as he thoroughly pounded you from the back. When he suddenly pulled out you whimpered at the loss, but he quickly flipped you over.

Eddie sat up on his knees, throwing his shirt off before he pulled the handcuffs off his belt. Your eyes widened as he looped them through the bottom of the driver’s seat and attached them to your wrists, pinning them above your head.

The way your body stretched with your arms up like that was a sight to behold. It put your tits on full display, his hands grabbing for them the second he started fucking into you again. The angle he had your hips with him up on his knees was intoxicating, his cock hitting your bundle of nerves with every thrust.

“Please, Eddie, harder,” you begged, your voice a whiney moan. Eddie obliged immediately, the slapping noise of your skin meeting filling the space.

“Fuck, look so pretty like this, princess,” he huffed, out of breath from his vigorous movements and the heat you were creating in the stuffy van. “Never thought you’d be tied up in the back of the freak’s van, taking his cock and begging for more, huh?”

No, you didn’t. You were just as surprised as anyone at your current situation.

“You’re so good, too,” Eddie moaned. “Your pussy is so perfect. Fits my cock just right. I’m so deep in you, baby, fuck!”

Eddie was struggling to hold it together, the feeling of you wrapped around him without the barrier of the condom was almost too much to bear. He spread your legs wide and leaned over you, burying his face in your neck.

He whimpered into your neck as he fucked you, his shallow thrusts quick and desperate. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly to his sweaty body. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him even closer. It was so intimate, and Eddie was losing it.

He cried out as his orgasm hit him unexpectedly, hips rutting against you as he pumped all his cum inside, balls tightening, giving you everything he had. He moaned your name again and again, shuddering on top of you.

As he came down and pulled out of you, freeing you from the handcuffs, he realized you didn’t get to finish. “Oh, shit, baby. I’m so sorry. Let me make it up to you-“

“Eddie, it’s really okay,” you giggled, not upset at all. “I still enjoyed myself. I don’t have to- oh!”

Eddie cut you off by diving between your legs, his tongue licking between your folds. He could taste himself where his cum leaked out of you, but he didn’t mind. You had never experienced anything like this before.

You moaned, writhing beneath his tongue, pulling on his long, soft hair. He devoured you, tongue moving up to flick over your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. His tongue was so long and so talented, he’d never done anything with a girl before you and you knew this, but you would never have guessed by the way he ate pussy.

Eddie moaned against you, slipping two of his fingers inside as his mouth focused on your clit. He pumped them in and out of you much like he’d fucked you, and it wasn’t long before you were clenching around his fingers, moaning little “Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!”s as you got closer and closer.

You came on his tongue, pulling hard on his curls and nearly screaming his name. If anyone was out in the parking lot, they’d know exactly what you were doing and who was doing it to you.

Eddie kept his movements up until you were pushing him away, overstimulated. He moved back up your body and kissed you hard, both of you smiling against each others’ lips.

Eddie tucked his spent cock away back in his jeans and collapsed against the wall of the van, still shirtless. You pulled your panties back on, straightening your uniform. “Do you wanna smoke?”

“Sure,” Eddie agreed easily, reaching into the front and pulling out an already rolled joint. He sparked it up with his lighter and took a drag, passing it to you.

As you smoked together, laughing and talking, Eddie felt like he was completely in love. But in the back of his head, Gareth’s words stuck with him, nagging. He didn’t really think you were only with him for the drugs, he was pretty sure you felt the same way about him as he did about you. Yet something about it wouldn’t leave him alone.

After practice and dressed comfortably in a t-shirt and soft short shorts, you walked to Eddie’s van with his arm around you. Your teammates gave you strange looks, but you didn’t care. You were happy.

“Hey!” You heard Chrissy’s voice calling your name as you were just leaving the building. You and Eddie both turned.

“Hey,” you greeted her with a smile. “What’s up?”

Chrissy looked awkward, uncomfortable. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Sure.” You looked up at Eddie and he smiled at you, bending down and placing a kiss to your lips. “Be right back.”

You followed Chrissy back into the locker room, which was deserted. Chrissy sighed, pacing back and forth.

“What’s up, Chris?” you asked, worried.

“It’s just…” She fiddled with her fingers. her nerves obvious. Like she was doing something she didn’t want to be doing. “Jason doesn’t like that you’re seeing Eddie.”

You blinked at her. Then, a laugh. “Chris, I love you to death, but I don’t really give a fuck what your boyfriend thinks.”

She winced, like she knew that was exactly what you were going to say. “Yeah, but…” She sighed again. “Jason thinks that it ruins the image of the cheer team. He thinks as long as you’re dating Eddie, you shouldn’t cheer. And he got the coach to agree.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your heart beat loud in your ears, your hands starting to shake. “What?”

Chrissy looked pained. “I know. I tried to talk to him-“

“Why does Jason Carver have any say over who’s on the cheerleading team?” you asked, getting worked up. “This is bullshit. I’m team captain! And what’s wrong with Eddie? Besides that he’s a little different?” You scoffed. “You guys are so close minded it’s sickening.”

Chrissy looked as if you’d struck her. “It’s not me, I promise. I tried. But everyone else agreed.”

You felt sick to your stomach. You hadn’t felt as happy as you do with Eddie in…well, ever. You couldn’t choose between two things you loved.

Loved?

“I’ve got to go,” you said, shaking your head. “Maybe try to talk to your boyfriend again. Because mine hasn’t done anything wrong.”

You turned and left, catching up with Eddie. He wrapped his arm around you again with a smile, but he could tell something was wrong. “What happened, baby?”

“Nothing,” you said. You didn’t want to talk about it or make Eddie feel bad. And you were sure it wouldn’t really happen - right?

At Eddie’s trailer, it looked like he had cleaned up for you. He seemed nervous, even as you fell to the couch with lips locked together in a passionate make out session. His hand was under your shirt, grasping at your tits.

“Need you again,” he mumbled hurriedly as he pulled your shirt over your head. “Need to be inside you.”

“You sure no one will be home?” you asked, giggling as he leaned forward and kissed at your tits.

“Yeah. My uncle’s at work, we’re fine.”

He pulled your shorts and panties down before shoving his own jeans and boxers down. He spread your legs wide, neither of you caring about a condom this time. He sunk into you, snapping his hips into you wildly. He was desperate for you, no matter how many times he had you.

He groaned loudly, face in your neck again while he pounded into you. Your nails scratched down his shoulders, eyes rolling back at the bliss he was providing with nothing but his cock.

You were so caught up in each other that neither of you heard the key in the front door, or the door opening. However you did hear the shocked gasp that had Eddie pulling out of you in a hurry, covering your body with a throw pillow and yanking his jeans up.

“Jesus, Ed!” the older man exclaimed, covering his eyes. “On the couch??”

“Sorry, shit, sorry! What are you doing here?” Eddie buckled his jeans back up as you hurriedly redressed yourself. “I thought you’d be gone all night!”

“Forgot my lunch,” the man said, his voice gruff. “‘n just because I work nights doesn’t mean you can…do that in the living room, for god’s sake, Ed.”

“Sorry,” Eddie said again, his cheeks bright red. “You can uncover your eyes, we’re okay.”

The man cautiously lowered his hand, looking at the two of you. “I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend.”

Eddie chuckled. “It’s new. Baby, this is my Uncle Wayne. Wayne, this is my girlfriend.” He introduced you by name, and Wayne gave you a friendly smile.

“Well, strange way to meet one another, but glad to meet you,” Wayne said.

“You too,” was all you could offer.

When Wayne grabbed his lunch and left again, you slapped Eddie on the arm. “You said you knew we’d be alone!”

Eddie laughed, dodging you. “How was I supposed to know he’d forget his lunch and come back?”

You supposed he had a point. You couldn’t stay mad at him - not that you really were to begin with. You cared deeply about Eddie, and you wanted to be with him. You just hoped that wouldn’t keep you from being on the cheer team.

part 2?

[lil-quinnie]

hurry up and wait

steve harrington x fem!reader x eddie munson

honestly idk what this is, but I was clearly in A Mood.

18+, MDNI┃3.1k

cw: smut, cockwarming, piv sex, kinda sub!reader & sub!steve, kinda mean, dom-ish eddie, implied voyeurism, r referred to with she/her pronouns, hair pulling, one slap.

The air in the room had grown hot and stifling, condensation starting to steam up the windows and diffusing the muted blue light that filtered in through the glass. Steve’s broad hands rested at your hips, and you could feel every tremor of his body underneath yours. His muscles quivering, his grip tensing every couple of seconds so his fingertips dug into your soft, doughy flesh.

He kept his lips pressed together, trying to stifle the whines and whimpers that fell out of him with every torturous passing second. But you were so wet, so tight around him, he thought he might die right there enveloped in your heat.

And he would do so, happily.

“Eddie, p-please,” you mewled, turning your head trying to catch your boyfriend’s eye as he stalked around the bed. “Please let him move, it hurts…”

The pitiful lilt in your voice was laid on a little thicker than intended, but it seemed to have the desired effect. Eddie smirked as he came around to stand over you, his fingers snaking into your hair, to grasp it at the root and squeeze.

It made you clench around Steve and he huffed like a bull trying not to charge.

“What hurts, princess?” Eddie tutted. “Is Stevie’s big cock too much for you?”

Probably, yeah, you thought as your head shook against his firm hold.

It was certainly longer than any other you’d taken. Thicker too, excluding Eddie’s. Seeing it bare the first time, arousal surged in between your legs at the thought of it filling you. And as you straddled his lap and sank down onto him so, so slowly, every inch made you question your sanity.

He’d been nestled deep inside you for almost ten minutes now, both under strict instruction not to move. Not allowed so much as a wiggle to make yourself more comfortable, unless of course Eddie gave you permission to do so.

Even your hands were restricted to remain in one place, his on your hips and yours on his shoulders, palms brushing the edges of the soft down of hair in the middle of his chest, hot and sweat-slicked.

And with every passing minute, you’d only grown more desperate, more pathetic and needy, more pliant and willing to do just about anything if it earned you the sweet release you craved.

But you suspected it would be a while yet before you got it.

Eddie’s grip tightened again to yank your head back, and the sting on your scalp made you wail. Steve’s cock twitched inside you at the abject sound, his eyes trained on your parted lips and the vast expanse of your bared throat, practically begging for his lips and tongue and teeth.

He then had to watch as Eddie acted out the very thought currently running through Steve’s head, flattening his tongue at the base of your neck to lick from from your collarbone to the underside of your chin. Eyes slanted to stay locked on Steve’s, never dropping the other man’s heated gaze.

Steve’s hips squirmed, aching to thrust, his baser instincts begging to let them take control so he could fuck you like the animal he was.

It only made you cry out more, and Steve wished he could kiss an apology up the other side of your neck to your ear. If he could, he’d wrap you up in his arms as tight as he possibly could and babble out praise about how brave you were being, how well you were taking him, how long he had been wanting to do this—

“Someone else is having trouble too, huh?” Eddie chuckled, his dark eyes glinting as he tipped your head up to see the pained look on Steve’s face. “I know that pussy feels good, just look at him trying not to blow.”

Your clit throbbed, seemingly in time with every twitch of Steve’s cock. It felt as if you were trying to balance on the head of a pin, ready to fall off in every direction all at once. You shivered, the heat of Eddie’s breath in your ear as he pushed his face against the side of yours to whisper in it.

“Why don’t you do that thing I like?” he purred, loosening his hold and sliding his hand down the length of your spine. He splayed his palm wide at the small of your back and rubbed it in a circle.

Breathless, you nodded as your eyes met Steve’s, gaze softening as if to apologize for what he had coming. You didn’t lift off of him, just started to swivel your hips over his, panting as you felt his cock prodding your walls. The motion forced your clit to rub against his base, his coarse hair getting sticky with your spend. Eddie’s hand sped up, signaling you to do the same.

Steve’s head thunked against the headboard as it fell backwards, barely padded by his thick hair, the sensation of you on his cock threatening to make his brain liquify. His throat bobbed, veins in his neck bulging as blood rushed to his face, his freckled skin flushing a deep scarlet.

Eddie smirked hearing the plaintive sounds you made as you found your rhythm, a steady and yet determined grind as painful as it was pleasurable.

“Thought this is what you wanted, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed at you, a soft sound in your ear that only sent more chills running down your spine. “That’s how you got yourself in this mess, isn’t it? ‘Cos you couldn’t wait?”

He was right. If you really wanted to kiss someone, all you needed to do was ask. Eddie liked watching sometimes. Guys, girls. People he picked, people you picked. And he especially liked it afterwards, when he got free rein to remind you who you really belonged to. But that night, you’d been too reckless. Too hasty. Too greedy.

It was an accident. It didn’t mean anything. It was one little kiss—a kiss that was more than worth this punishment, if you were being honest.

You’d always kind of had a thing for Steve. It was practically impossible not to with his good looks and his boyish charm and his floppy hair and his kind eyes. But you would never do anything. You would never act on those feelings.

Not when you had Eddie to give you everything you wanted and more.

Had it not been for the party, for that unfortunate drinking game where you and Steve drained your drinks faster than everyone else, it might have never even happened.

You and Steve might never have stumbled into the kitchen looking for snacks. You might never have leaned into him or wound your arms around his waist as breathy giggles fluttered in your chest and butterfly wings flapped in your stomach. You might never have leaned in and let his lips brush yours when Steve’s nose nudged at your heated cheek, trying to get you to turn your face toward his. You might never have kissed him back.

But of all the people you could have kissed, Steve wasn’t the worst pick.

He wasn’t quite an “ex” but you knew that he and Eddie indulged in some...not so platonic activities in the past. Steve, who always had to act so tough and confident and cool and together, had found Eddie’s influence rather illuminating. He’d learned an awful lot about himself during those trysts.

How he liked to be under someone’s thumb.

How he liked to be told what to do.

How he liked to be used. 

And the stories Eddie told you only further piqued your interest in the former king of Hawkins High. Because, much like him, you’d also come to enjoy Eddie’s domineering side. It made you wonder on more than one occasion what it might feel like to be between them. A kind of middle ground…

Being used by one, and you using the other. 

The kiss had been good. Torrid and desperate and consuming. The feeling of it rippled through you like a live current, like lightning in your veins. It zapped your body with instant relief, and in the same instant you were overcome with a morbid excitement at the thought of being found out.

You and Steve were both far too shy, for lack of a better word, to do anything like this without the excuse of liquid courage to fall back on. And by doing it somewhere you could be caught so easily …it was almost like you wanted Eddie to see.

And he did see. When yours and Steve’s swollen lips parted, hot breath mingling as you panted heavily into one another’s mouths, the sound of Eddie clearing his throat was the only thing that stopped you from diving right back in all over again. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning on his shoulder against the frame, smirking into his beer as he took a swig.

He said nothing, though. Just let his eyes scan up and down your bodies still tangled up together, Steve pressing you up against the cabinetry.

It wasn’t until later, after the party petered out and all your other friends had gone home, that Eddie even acknowledged your existence.

He coolly instructed you and Steve to go upstairs and to take off all your clothes.

To sit on the bed and wait.

Now, here the two of you were. Just a couple of life-sized dolls for him to arrange and play with. A pair of puppets for your master.

“That’s enough,” Eddie said with a light tap to your tailbone.

Your nails dug into the meat of Steve’s shoulders when you stilled your hips abruptly, shivering as you came down from the high you had steadily been building up to. Eddie pushed his face in close, not even looking at you this time.

“You ready to move, Stevie?” he asked, practically in a whisper.

“Yes, fuck, please, can I?” Steve let out a quick, shuddering breath and you felt how his muscles spasmed under your hands as his hold on your hips tightened.

“Okay,” your boyfriend conceded with a wicked smile, “but only when I say.”

Eddie straightened and crossed his arms in front of his chest, his biceps bulging and the tendons in his arms standing out gloriously under inked skin. You were positive Steve could feel you getting wetter just at the sight if the breathy little gasp he let out was any indication.

What followed was some perverted version of Red Light, Green Light.

In his low and gravelly tone, Eddie locked his eyes on Steve’s and uttered the solitary word, “Go.”

Steve inhaled sharply and his eyes cut back to your face, his brow raising in a final silent check-in. You nodded instantly. Eagerly.

After having to sit so still for so long, the feeling of finally pushing his hips up is enough to draw a deep groan of satisfaction from his chest. Even if he couldn’t draw them back all that much, it’s enough to feel the slide of his length inside your walls and the way they stretch to welcome him in.

It’s not enough, though.

He tries circling his hips instead and starts to grind them up into your heat, taking a few tries to find the right angle—but they’re all perfect as far as you’re concerned. You let out a long, low moan and your head rolls on your shoulders, unyielding ache between your legs finally subsiding.

But almost as soon as Steve got going, Eddie called out, “Stop.”

The boy inside you obeyed, but not without letting out the tiniest little huff of frustration. He tucked his chin to his chest, drawing in another deep breath as he struggled to bring himself down just as you had.

His head of messy, tousled hair was all you could see, innumerable strands of chestnut brown locks in an artful disarray, all piled on top of and criss-crossing over one another. It made you want to bury your hands in it. Your fingers literally twitched from wanting to so bad.

A few more rounds followed. Stop. Go. Stop. Go. You lose track how many times Eddie calls them out, how many times Eddie lets Steve get you as close to the edge as he possibly can before you’re unceremoniously yanked back from the precipice.

And however bad it is for you, it’s so much worse for Steve.

He’s twice as desperate as you are by a mile. Every time he has to stop, you can feel his core clenching and his legs twitching under you, like he’s trying to kick them and can’t. He’s long past the point of using words, his eyelids drooping shut and straining to stay open he’s so pussydrunk and braindead.

Only when Eddie stands over him, pushing a hand through his hair to rake back sweaty strays, does he seem to wake up a little.

“Okay, Stevie,” Eddie cooed, low and syrupy, “you ready to really fuck her?”

Steve nodded, sending the hairs Eddie just fixed flopping forward into his shining eyes. Eddie’s own glinted with satisfaction and he scanned over you.

Limbs trembling. Thighs shaking. Lips swollen from biting down on them hard enough to draw blood. Head hanging on its hinge like it’s too heavy to lift.

But you do lift it. Just enough to look him in the eye, to flash him your round and pleading gaze he loves so much. To give him the tiniest nod when he lifts his brow at you in a silent check-in.

To see him nod at Steve.

Steve shifted underneath you and planted his feet on the bed. His gaze cut sideways and his eyes locked with Eddie, poised for instruction.

“Go.”

Steve’s hips bucked, nearly lifting you off the bed. He thrust up into you as hard as he could, clearly having lost whatever semblance of restraint he’d been clinging onto the whole night. He used his hold on your hips to slide you forward to meet his every stroke, your bodies undulating together.

The wet plap plap plap of his thighs hitting yours grew faster, both of you sneaking glances over at Eddie to see if he was going to stop you again.

He gave no indication either way.

Your pussy clenched and squeezed around his length, hips struggling to match his pace until you gave up entirely, giving yourself over to his motions, the peak of your pleasure rushing towards you once again.

Close, you were close, you were so, so close, you were gonna—

“Stop.”

“FUCK!” You cried out, not even caring how feral you sounded anymore, “Fucking shit, goddamn it Eddie, just let me cum, please—”

The sharp crack of his palm across your cheek was shocking, but not a surprise. Your eyes welled with tears immediately, having been teetering on the verge of crying for what felt like an eternity. It was actually a relief to let off some of the pressure that built up in your chest, but it was short lived.

“Is that what you call me?” Eddie’s voice boomed, loud enough to rattle the walls, “Or are you so drunk on his dick you forgot who I am?”

“M’sorry, sir,” you blubbered, tears trickling down your cheek that still stung from his slap.

You felt Steve’s hands tremble on your thighs, like all he wanted to do in that moment was reach up and soothe the burn.

“That’s better,” Eddie said, eyes still steely as he reached out for you. “Now say you’re sorry to our guest for that dirty fucking mouth of yours.”

He laid his hand on your cheek, seemingly to turn your head forward, but the way he held it there for a few seconds after felt more like an apology. 

It still tingled when he dropped his hand, but his touch had dulled the pain.

“Sorry, Stevie,” you said, practically in a whisper. Eyes big, round and wet.

“It’s okay, angel,” Steve answered, giving your thighs a reassuring squeeze.

Then, sensing an opportunity in this moment of calm, Steve looked to Eddie.

“Sir?” he said meekly, the picture of an obedient pet, “c-can I kiss her?”

All the air rushed out of the room, the three of you falling deathly quiet in the wake of his question.

Eddie’s eyes were dark, his anger that boiled over briefly reduced to a low simmer as he weighed Steve’s request in his head.

At last, his chin dropped in a deep nod.

Steve lifted one of his hands and cradled your jaw tenderly. The pad of his thumb smoothed over your wobbly bottom lip, stilling it. He drew close to drag his nose along the apple of your cheek, letting his plush lips skim your skin that was still buzzing from Eddie’s strike. He licked his lips and they parted as he blew cool air on it, making shivers skitter down your spine.

Your mouth fell open and your eyes fluttered closed, giving yourself over to the feeling of his blunt fingertips stroking the sensitive skin behind your ear, his whole hand sliding back to hold you by the nape of your neck.

He could feel your excitement as you pulsed around his length, your hot center aching with need, stranded at the edge of your orgasm. His fingers slid into your hair, massaging at the roots until you let out a little hum of contentment. Your head dropped back, your neck stretched before him once again. Still begging for his attention.

This time, he mouthed at its graceful lines that flowed from your chin and jaw down to your collar bones and the slope of your shoulder. His lips left a trail of wet patches as he planted open-mouthed kisses all the way up, up... 

He found the sensitive patch of skin behind your ear and you gasped when he grazed it, shivers making you writhe and squirm on his lap. 

Finally, finally, he let your mouths meet again and your tongues twisted and swirled in a dizzying sort of dance. Head spinning like a carousel.

Eddie watched, silent and appraising, his gaze stern and hard. He kept his arms crossed in front of his chest, forcibly ignoring the insistent throb of his own cock in his pants. But when Steve’s other hand lifted from your other thigh and he cradled your face fully in his grasp to deepen the kiss, his strong brows drawn in concentration, not even Eddie could resist anymore. 

He palmed himself lightly, rubbing over the bulge in his jeans and along his zippered fly, grunting in approval at his toys putting on a good show.

The thought only made him that much harder.

[lil-quinnie]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

ARE YOU BORED YET? - part three

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you're steve's "bitchy" step-sister and are spending the summer in hawkins; eddie is steve's annoying best friend who you can't seem to shake, but things take a sharp turn when you find yourself sneaking around and ultimately falling for him

contains: slightly enemies to lovers trope, food/eating, drug use and mentions of alcohol, smoking, secret relationship vibes, lots of tension, tons of kissing, flirting, oral (f receiving), mentions of virginity, a hint of blasphemy, a sprinkle of angst, and eddie being an obsessed loverboy <3

word count: 16.3k (i sincerely apologize)

chapter song: hold me x fleetwood mac

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I series masterlist | their mixtape | -main masterlist- I

Cigarettes, artificial sugar, smoky cinnamon, light on your tongue and heavy on your knees— Eddie Munson tastes like a cool summer night on melted ice.

His lips are soft, pillowy, warm, and addictive. You get lost in them quickly, falling down an endless spiral of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Truthfully, you had been the one to jump.

And now you’re falling, quicker and longer than you had thought you would.

And nothing below you looks soft. Nothing is there to break your fall.

But Eddie feels good.

He feels good against your tongue, wet and hot and greedy— beneath your fingertips, warm, soft, and firm. 

Kissing Eddie feels like walking through a vortex tunnel.

There are colors exploding around you, shaky grounds beneath your feet, the promising end glimmering ahead of you— and you know your dizziness will end once you step out of it, but you don’t want it to end. The uncertainty of steady knees forces you to hold onto what’s there, hope, and pray you don’t fall on your ass. Blink and watch the world spin around you— Eddie takes every breath you give, hungry and needy.

He presses you against his van, cool metal against the slivers of bare skin, watery whimpers splashing onto his tongue.

God, you can’t breathe.

Your heart is thrumming in your chest, hot and heavy, fingers swelling up with blood as they curl into Eddie’s shirt. His fingers press against your waist, firm, grounding and steady, but you’re anything but steady.

What are you doing?

Your breath catches. The warmth, the weight, the sheer intensity of what’s happening slams into you all at once.

Eddie licks into you, tilts his head and kisses you deeper. You let him. You feed him back, kiss him harder, pull him closer. The thrumming noise of a summer night is drowned by the rushing of blood in your ears. You can feel his breath on your lip and hear your bated breathing.

His fingers trail over your sides, shivers splintering up your back as he cups your face. You lean into it, just a little, and let yourself melt into him for a moment before reality grasps you tight and mercilessly. 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

What are you doing?

It settles in your gut like hot stones, thick coats of wool wrapping around your tongue as you make a pathetic noise.

How did you end up here? Alone? With him?

Your grip on him loosens. The blood turns murky in your veins. The storm of uncertainty and confusion crashes over you like a tidal wave.

Eddie feels it before you can even pull back, you know he can. Your body stiffens, a sharp inhale between kisses, and you’re gone.

Nothing to break your fall.

You pull away from him, wet mouth already tainted with him, tongue already familiar with his taste— too late to go back. 

There’s barely a whisper of space between you, but it feels like miles. Your world pans out, and you’re staring at Eddie, watching him witness your descent.

Your hands fall from his body, trembling and clenching once, twice.

Eddie doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Watches you like he’s studying you, trying to pick you apart.

Horror.

It drags through you like a snake. 

What did you do? What door has just opened, and how do you close it before it’s too late?

His eyes shift, something dark behind the curtain of golden earth you’ve started to dream about. 

It’s brief, a flicker, a small flash across your face, but he sees it. That wide-eyed, gut-punched, what have I done? look. His face settles with a look that makes your insides churn.

The air shifts. The warmth drains. And the moment is over.

Eddie swallows, your breaths still uneven, his lips wet as he drags his tongue over them, tasting you.

Fuck, you can taste him too. So clearly. Like you’ve split an orange over your mouth, drained it of its juice, let the acid burn you from the inside out.

You take a breath, shifting, memorizing the feeling of his hands on your waist when you speak, “Can you—” you clear your throat, “—I need to get home…”

Silence. Heavy. Overwhelming— It settles over you, the sound of cicadas in the trees plays like a symphony to the wind of thoughts in your mind. 

Eddie stares for a long beat, like he’s waiting for you to take it back. Like he can see right through you. Like he’s hoping. But you don’t.

He nods. Sniffs, wipes a thumb across your nose to distract himself from the storm, eyes glancing away as he kicks at the dirt.

“Yeah… yeah, okay,” his jaw flexes, and he steps back, rings clinking against the metal door when he holds it open for you again.

This time, you don’t look at him, and you don’t dare to touch him.

The van is deadly silent. 

A sharp contrast to the vibrant atmosphere you had carefully curated throughout the night. Most times you have been around Eddie, he’s a fountain of nonstop noise. He’s constantly saying or doing something— and the times that he’s not, it’s usually because he’s just being an ass.

But Eddie’s silence tonight isn’t a part of some joke he has. No, Eddie’s silence is just that. Silence. And it’s unnerving.

You don’t know what to say.

And this time, it’s not because you’re scared or have nothing to say to Eddie. This time, it’s because nothing you say or do can erase what you didn’t say or do.

You did the complete opposite of what you know, truly, deep down in your chest, you wanted to do. Instead of pulling Eddie closer, pressing your lips to his again and telling him he tasted like shitty cotton candy and smoke, you pulled away and acted like he’d spit poison in your mouth.

You curled away from him, retreated into whatever stupid little hole you’d dug for yourself, and resumed your facade of ‘don’t speak, never happened’.

But this happened.

You kissed Eddie.

And no amount of silence can deafen the buzzing ghost of his lips on yours. 

Your hands rest in your lap, fingers picking at the skin around your nails as you avoid looking over at Eddie, scared he’ll be looking. But of course he isn’t. Because he’s driving, eyes locked on the road ahead, one hand gripping the wheel, the other clenched against his thigh. 

His rings catch an occasional flash beneath passing streetlights. Just minutes ago, they had cooled your hot skin and played like an anchor to your dizzying mind. You’d thought they were cool, so incredibly and undeniably him. Now, they just look like armor. 

The weight of the night fogs the air like smoke that won’t clear.

You wish there were noise. A cracked window to hear the wheels or Eddie’s usual loud music— but there’s nothing but the silent hum of the van beneath you. 

You debate asking for a song— anything to kill the silence. But you think it’d do more damage than good. Like cheating. Like throwing a rug over the bloodstain.

You glance at Eddie again, dragging in a breath, words dancing on your tongue before you exhale, silent, letting it go unsaid. 

You wish he’d say something. Anything. You wish he would just… be Eddie.

Call you some stupid pet name, say you’re dumb, make fun of you for running from a kiss. You nearly want to beg for it.

But he’s done being Eddie tonight.

He gave you Eddie, and you took it, chewed it to bits, and spat it right back in his face.

Now, he’s just a boy, driving you back home, holding pieces of something you almost gave him. And you feel it in the way he won’t look at you.

He’s close to your neighborhood, worn-out tires pulling you closer and closer to the end of what could’ve been a perfect night. 

You hate to break the silence, hate that you have even to say the words bubbling in you, but you know it’s for your own good— both you and Eddie’s. 

“Could you maybe… drop me off a block away?…”

You glance at him, notice the clench in his jaw, the way he rolls a shoulder, seemingly decompressing himself. “Sure.”

It’s short. Clipped. Not the usual teasing lilt Eddie carries when he addresses you. 

You take it anyway— grovel with it.

You don’t try again. You’re not one to beg, and you have no reason to plead for his forgiveness— your hesitation about whatever this is was not ill-natured. He knows that. You know that. 

You think he knew it before you did. 

He turns into your neighborhood, takes a few turns, and gets you as close as possible before he rolls to a stop, just below a streetlight. 

He doesn’t turn the car off, the soft hum of the van filling in the silence. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t make a sound or do anything to indicate the end of the night. But you know it is either way.

You don’t unbuckle right away. Your fingers fidget with the strap, teeth chewing at the fleshy part of your lip. Your heart is loud in your chest, begging you just to open your mouth and say something, but all the words taste like cotton. 

You look at him.

He still won’t look at you.

And when you think he won’t speak, he swipes a thumb across his nose and clears his throat, voice low and hoarse, “Uh… get home safe.”

Not what you wanted to hear, but better than nothing.

You nod. A ghost of a movement, a thank you caught in your throat. 

And then the belt clicks when you unbuckle, your fingers curling around the handle to gently open the door as if anything more will shatter you into something worse.

You step into the cool breeze, the silent summer wrapping around you again, this time not as comforting as before. 

You hesitate for a moment. Hope he’ll say something, your name, anything. But he doesn’t. 

So, you take his silence, close the door, and turn around. Back to your home, back to your room where you’ll toss around in bed and think about tonight until it eats you alive. 

You walk, silent sounds of nature enveloping you with each step you take. You can still feel him everywhere around you. Your lips still tingle, your hips still burn. 

God, what did you do?

You don’t dare to glance back because you can hear Eddie’s van still running. Sitting there, watching as you walk down the street, his protection being the loudest thing he’s said since that kiss.

Finally, when you reach the end of the block, the van rumbles back into motion and disappears down the street, taking with it a version of the night that could’ve ended differently.

The house is quiet when you eventually slip inside. 

The lights are off, a soft glow of the moon peeking through the windows as you sneak your way up to your room. You pass by Steve’s room, wonder if he’s awake, wonder if he could sense his friend’s presence practically drenched over you. Your stomach twists at the thought. 

He’d chew you to bits if he ever found out. Tell you that you’re being selfish. That you know summer will come to an end. 

You walk past his door, straight to your room, not bothering to turn the lights on. 

Your clothes feel like an echo of the night, a reminder of what you’d tasted. What you’d felt. Who you tasted. Who you felt.

You peel them off slowly, tired from your day, but hoping that, maybe, if you move gently enough, the regret won’t sting as much.

You drop onto your bed, the spin of the ceiling fan painting a vivid image of what your stomach feels like.

You kissed him.

And then you left him.

Your fingers dance across your stomach and ribs, clasping around the small necklace on your chest. You twirl the small pendant between your fingers, replaying the night over and over in your mind, trying to figure out how it could’ve gone differently.

But it never changes.

It ends the same, with him driving away and you walking in the dark. 

Eddie makes it halfway home before he pulls over.

The road is empty, the van ticks and cools as it idles under a broken billboard, and Eddie’s mind is a whirlwind.

His body is still buzzing, still high from the good parts of the night, but the way it’s clashing with his mind as it plummets to that dark space he’s uncomfortably familiar with— it makes him feel like an exposed nerve.

You kissed him.

And then you ran. 

And Eddie doesn’t know what the hell to make of that. Doesn’t know if that means something, or if it meant too much, and that’s why you shut down. Maybe he pushed too hard, too quickly— it wouldn’t be the first time he’s done that. Because it’s not like he hasn’t been here before— people pulling back once they realize he’s not worth the mess.

Still, it felt different. You felt different.

Until you didn’t.

No. She still does. She is different. 

He wrestles with his thoughts for a moment. Hates that he’s always quick to want a final word, a solution, something. He’s not patient. Never has been. And his mind spins like a fucking metal sphere in a pinball machine— Eddie’s not cut out for this. He gives and gives and gives, and when he’s inevitably left wondering why no one will take it, he spins out.

“Get home safe.”

The most pathetic thing he could come up with. He should’ve said more. Should’ve said, Hey, I liked that. I wanted more of that. I wanted you.

But he didn’t.

Because you didn’t. 

And because he’s a coward.

He leans back against his seat and sparks up a cigarette before peeling back onto the road.

It doesn’t matter. You made your choice, and Eddie will respect it, even though he thinks it is stupid.

No matter how badly he wants to turn around and go back to you. No matter how badly he wants to shake you and yell out, This is okay. This is good— we’re good.

Kiss me again and stop fighting this.

Be good with me.

A week passes with a long stretch of silence between you and Eddie.

Not the comfortable kind. Not the lazy, late-summer kind that curls around you like a cozy blanket. Not the kind that’s mutual in a sense where you both know once you’re face-to-face again, it’ll be like zero time has passed. No, this one crackles. Burns. It hums, like static, loud and noisy in your ears, itchy beneath your skin— because all you can do is relive that kiss— over and over— like it’s stuck on a loop. Trapped behind your ribs like a lingering cold, refusing to let go.

And it’s not the good part that clings. Not the taste of cotton candy and cigarettes, or the warm, roughened fingertips on your skin. No, what clings is what you did after— you ran.

No explanation, no call, nothing. And every day that passes just makes you feel worse. 

That plummeting look in Eddie’s eyes when you caved into yourself— it follows you in every dream. It’s worse than guilt. It’s a tether— a burn.

The silence sticks to you in every room— on your skin, behind your eyes, between every thought— and in the quiet moments you find, it grows deafeningly loud.

You do things to distract yourself. Rearrange your room. Color-code your closet. Plan for the next school semester, even though your schedule is already solidified. Run useless errands with your stepmother, feign interest in countertop samples and paint swatches, just to keep your mind busy. 

But none of it works.

Because Eddie’s there.

In every passing car with loud music, in every corner of a room that feels too hot, too still.

He’s folded into the silence and the noise, in the little breath you take between words and the way your stomach clenches when you let your mind drift.

Eddie’s thoroughly infiltrated your system whether you like it or not— and fuck, you’re a fool to say he didn’t.

He’s bright. Searing like the summer sun at its zenith, the kind of heat that saps your strength and leaves you dizzy, thirsty for more. 

But he’s cold, too— ice in the root of your chest when you remember how his face shifted the second you shifted. How quickly his warmth cooled when you didn’t stay.

Eddie is everything you’ve ever run from— loud, frayed, rough, unpredictable in a way that makes your skin buzz. 

Guys like him were never an option. Too much, too raw, too real. You don’t touch things that burn like that. You weren’t supposed to.

But now you’ve touched him. And it’s already too late.

You’re singed. Marked in ways you can’t see but you feel. 

You should be thinking about how to let it go— how to shake it loose, bury it, re-stitch the part of yourself that unraveled in his hands.

But instead, you keep remembering. His hands. The way he looked at you, like he couldn’t believe you were real. The way he tasted— cigarettes, artificial sugar, smokey cinnamon— a summer storm, and the brightest crack of light— Eddie Munson is out to ruin you.

His eyes wanted more. His hands wanted more. 

And the worst part was, you do too. You don’t know what exactly you want from him. 

But it’s him. 

It’s his crooked grin, his smoke-rough laugh, the way he touches you like he knows you better than you know yourself. 

It’s the pull— that stupid, reckless pull— and the part of you that craves chaos a little more than you ever admitted. 

You don’t know why, you just know you want it. And maybe, deep down, you’re terrified of what that says about you. What it says about the lack of control you thought you had, so carefully crafted all your life.

One kiss from a leather-bound boy and it shattered. 

It feels like a beginning. One you slammed the door on way too fast. 

And now? You have no idea if it’s too late to open it again. 

You want to think he’s fine, that this wasn’t some huge thing for him. That he’s used to girls coming and going. That maybe you’re making a bigger deal of it than it was. 

But then you remember the way he looked at you afterward. Like you’d given him the goddamn moon and snatched it back before he could get a grip on it.

It feels rotten in your gut. A spinning wheel of regret, slow like molasses, scraping at your insides with each turn. You don’t know if you crushed something good before it had a chance, and you really don’t know how to clarify that. 

You could just ask him. Call. Show up at the bar on one of the nights he performs. What would you say? Would he even want to talk to you? Or is your cowardly rejection still simmering in his chest the way it is in yours?

Fortunately, and maybe unluckily, you’re not left wondering for long. 

The answer comes in the form of your father's car. Eddie spent the week fixing it, and now you’ve been tasked with picking it up from Eddie’s place. 

You let it sit for two days. You can’t even bring yourself to slip on a pair of shoes to head over to Eddie’s place, because once you’re there, you can’t hide anymore. 

Because what happens when you step into Eddie’s home and you’re slapped with the truth of what your week-long spiral was really all about? What happens if it destroys what was left in your satchel of perseverance? What happens when Eddie looks at you and there’s no longer that stupid glint dancing in his eyes?

You’d live on. Obviously. But not without a bruised ego. And maybe a little bit of a growing distaste for cinnamon and sugar.

And you think you hate that.

Steve forces you to go on the third day. If he notices your reluctance, he doesn’t mention it— just impatiently waits in the driveway and curls his nose when you slip into his passenger seat— “…Are you wearing perfume?”

“Shut up, Steve, just drive.”

And you try to focus on the drive or the music, anything but Eddie, but your mind lands on him every time you try to flip it. So you give up. Two minutes left anyway. And then you’ll be forced to face the man who’s been haunting your mouth for the past week. 

It’s the peak of the day when you find yourself in front of Eddie’s door— the time when the sun turns the distance into rippling waves of heat. Steve didn’t waste a second to drive off, leaving you behind in a cloud of dust and nerves.

The trailer park is a different kind of solace. Not soft, not serene— just stretched. There’s a hum beneath your skin, something slow and buzzing, itchy like you’d just walked through a field of tall grass. Everything feels slowed down here, strung out, like the air itself is holding its breath. Or maybe that’s just you.

The gravel crunches beneath your shoes like it’s daring you to keep going. The road twists and curves around sun-bleached trailers; a box fan lowly hums in the window of one, a dog barking before settling down in the shade of another. 

You should’ve worn something else. Sweat beads at the back of your neck, slipping down your spine, and your heart’s beating faster than it should be for a simple car pickup. You tell yourself it’s just the heat, but you know better. You’re two steps away from the door that makes you want to bolt back to California.

You climb the creaky but sturdy steps, like they’ve been there for years of time and weather. There are scuffs along the door, worn and loved, a sense of a thoroughly used home that oddly stirs your insides. You hesitate for only a second, bite the bullet before you raise a fist and knock twice on the door, sharp and quick. 

Cicadas hum in the distance, the dog barks, the fan hums. You debate stealing the bike off to the side and high-tailing it home.

You stare at it long enough to imagine it before the door swings open. 

Eddie. Barefoot. Wet hair with sweats hung low on his hips like he wasn’t expecting anybody for the rest of the day. His skin is still dewy from a shower, ink dark and slithering across the expanse of his skin. You swear you don’t watch the bead of water that drips from his hair and rolls down the side of his neck but you can damn near feel it.

Eddie’s eyes slightly widen when he sees you, shifting and opening the door more so he can fully see you. 

“Hey.” He plainly says.

You draw in a breath and hold his eyes, “Hey.”

A silence simmers, not loud, but there. For a moment, neither of you moves. And now that you’re looking at Eddie again, face-to-face, if you think hard enough, you can remember how his lips feel.

Eddie blinks like he remembers why you’re here, “Car’s out back. Keys are here somewhere.”

He lets you in, holds the door, and lets it swing shut behind you as you enter his home. The air is cool inside, tinged with whatever soap he used and the sharp note of twine from the fan spinning on the ceiling. 

Eddie walks a few steps ahead, taking a hand through his damp curls as he heads for the kitchen counter. “You know, uh…” he says without looking back, digging into a catch-all bowl full of keys, change, and mismatched guitar picks, “it’s nice to see you’re, like, alive. Didn’t die on the walk home, or something.”

You glance around his trailer—guitar leaning in the corner, a record sleeve half-tucked under the couch, light bleeding golden through the dusty blinds, a shit ton of mugs lined on the shelves with baseball caps lined above them.

“You watched me.” You remind him.

As you watch him, he pauses for a beat before he shrugs, “I did. And then I drove home thinking, ‘should I have popped a mint before I kissed her?’”

When he turns around, keys in hand, he’s grinning—eyes soft, a little nervous under all that casual. And there he is. Eddie peeking out from behind the boy you left beneath the streetlamp. 

The tiny voice in your head sings as if he’s risen from the dead.

You take the keys from him, slowly. “You tasted like cotton candy,” you say, fingers brushing his, “and cigarettes.”

And cinnamon. Sugar-coated wet dreams and the end of summer— you won’t tell him, you’ll let it toss around in your brain like a mantra until you’re sick of it.

Eddie quirks an eyebrow, eyes slightly narrowing in question, “Bad combo?”

You hum, clutching the keys as you pull your hand back, “For some, maybe…” You tip your head, holding his gaze.

Something grows in Eddie’s eyes. Something small yet true. 

It’s quiet, then, where nothing really needs to be said, but you’re both aching to say something anyway. 

You take a silent breath, a calm settling over you that hadn’t been there all week— something that clarifies you know what you should say.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. “I didn’t… I didn't handle it well.”

Eddie straightens with a deep breath and makes a face, playful and easy. “No worries, princess. Had plenty of hit-and-runs before. I’m a connoisseur.”

You roll your eyes, even as something in your chest tugs, “I’m trying to be sincere, Eddie.” You deadpan.

The grin on Eddie’s face makes your hands hot. “I know,” he leans in, voice a little lower, like the moment has shifted. “It’s cute.”

He steps back, nods towards the back door with a gaze dancing in his eyes, making your chest thrum, “C’mon, I’ll walk you out. Gotta show off my mechanical skills.”

You follow him out. Try not to eye the expanse of his back through the shirt he’s wearing, try not to remember the way his arms felt beneath your fingers, even though you’d been remembering it since then. His scent wafts behind him like a taunting train of ‘remember this? Remember how close you were to that?’. 

It puts you in a daze.

The screen door snaps shut behind you when you step out, the light’s softened, everything golden, and long shadows. 

Eddie runs a hand along the hood of your father's car and taps it, “Changed the oil. Transmission put you out on the road, so I fixed that, too. And I tightened your brake line— it was loose enough to make me nervous, and I’m already high-strung as it is.”

“You’re so modest.” You hum as you walk up to the car. 

He smirks and shrugs, watching as you approach the driver’s side, “I try.”

You open the door, gazing at him as he props it open for you. A callback to memory, vivid and true. 

“Thanks…” You softly say.

Eddie nods, “Don’t mention it.” He glances away, squints at the setting sun, and shifts in his spot, “You uh…” he pauses and scratches the back of his neck, you tilt your head, “You ever been to the drive-in? The one out past the fairgrounds?”

You crack a smile, gazing at him as he turns back to you. You tilt your head, the sun gleaming over him. Somewhere in his eyes, there’s a fairy, swirling the pools of brown and making magic under the sun.

It’s working. Annoyingly so.

“The one that shut down like four years ago?” You huff out a laugh.

Eddie smiles, “Did it?”

“Definitely. Yeah.”

Eddie quirks a brow like he’s questioning your knowledge. You could’ve sworn you saw them breaking the screen down last time you passed it all those years ago. You shift in your spot, leaning against the door, “This your way of asking me out?”

Eddie grins then, sun peeking out in his cheeks, deep enough to make the beast in your chest purr like she’s been asleep for years. Whether she hates the sun or craves it, you’re not sure. 

Eddie shrugs, “Just asking if you wanna sit in a car with me for three hours and make fun of bad dialogue.” he gazes at you for a moment before leaning in, voice low and convincing, “Once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

You look at him, rolling the idea in your mind, tasting it behind your teeth. You hum, fingers twitching against the car door before you speak, “No. And you said that at the fair.”

Eddie’s smug demeanor falters, disbelief in his voice when he responds, “No?”

“No.”

“You wound me,” he groans, dragging a hand over his face, “I’m a wounded soldier here, honeybee. Bleeding out. Throw me a bone at least.” He dramatically pleads.

You roll your eyes, already turning to get in the car. “I’m romantic as hell, by the way. I’ll bring you flowers and kiss you at the door, the whole nine.”

It’s cute— his marketing skills— and maybe if you stayed a little longer, you’ll cave. You glance at him, strapping the belt across your torso and holding back the smile in your cheeks as he gazes down at you. You reach for the door and shake your head, “Goodbye, Eddie.”

Eddie looks at you like he always does, with stars in his eyes and his heart on his sleeve, “Bye, Malibu.”

You don’t ask why he’s still smiling at you like that, and you don’t let yourself wonder what it means. You just shut the door and let the warmth in your cheeks settle on the drive home.

He doesn’t let up for nearly two weeks.

Eddie’s on a running campaign to get you to agree to this magical drive-in movie date he’s proposed, and he’s relentless about it, too. He keeps his appearances up at the house, wasting away in Steve’s room until he finds a moment to slip away and find you.

The first time he finds you in the kitchen, cutting a bowl of fruit for yourself when he rounds the corner. He’s got a lovesick grin on his face and a mouth full of smug, flirtatious words waiting to come out at a moment's notice.

“Movie’s still on the table.” He hums, walking around you like an animal taunting its prey.

You don’t bother looking at him, slicing through thick blocks of pineapple as you hum, “No.”

“Free drinks.” He offers.

“Still no.”

The second time he asks comes a day later while you’re lying by the pool, sunglasses perched on your face, a book in your lap. Eddie leans over you, wet hair dripping chlorine and sun, dampening your pages, “Name the candy, I’ll get it.”

“Eddie—” You grimace, pressing a hand to his chest and shaking your book off with the other. You ignore the warmth beneath your fingertips, glaring up at him through the dark shades as he continues to ramble.

“Popcorn? Gummy worms? Licorice? Gross, but I’ll look the other way. I’ll even let you hold the remote.”

You look at him, deadpanned as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“There is no remote.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes and waves a hand, “You’re missing the point.”

You lift your glasses just enough to give him a look, “Goodnight, Eddie.”

Eddie’s face twists in mild confusion. “It’s three in the afternoon.”

“Exactly.”

You lose count of how many times he asks. He gets creative with it, though. Will pass by your room and slip an index card under your door with a single Dum-Dum taped to it and the words— MOVIE’S THIS WEEKEND?— scribbled in shitty handwriting with two check boxes beneath it. Both of the boxes say yes.

You draw a third box, write ‘no’ beside it, and check the box before sliding it back under the door.

The Dum-Dum was strawberry flavored and painted your tongue red.

You now have a stash of Dum-Dums piling up on your dresser.

Nothing is holding you back from saying yes to Eddie. Aside from the fact that he’s Eddie, and every time you’re left alone with him for a prolonged amount of time, your brain starts glitching out like a jumbled tape until you start thinking stupid things. Stupid things that land you pressed against his van with his tongue down your throat— not like you’re still thinking about it or anything. 

By the start of the second week, Eddie’s purely asking for the bit. He likes the chase, says it all in his grin and the twinkle in his eye every time you shut him down, and he throws a hand over his chest like a lovesick dog.

So by the time he leans against the doorframe of your room and asks again on a random Wednesday night, he’s moving off muscle memory.

“Drive-in’s still on the table. So are the snacks. And the cuddles. Just say the word, I’ll heat up the van and cue up the mood lighting.”

You’re perched in front of your vanity, smoothing cool moisturizer beneath your eyes, not bothering to look back when you respond, “You got mood lighting in your van now?”

“Princess, please,” Eddie scoffs, waltzing in like he knows his way around the place. “I’ve had mood lighting. That lava lamp has been through everything with me.”

You snort, and he plops on your bed, splaying out like a cat that’s getting comfortable, his feet still planted on the ground as he talks to your ceiling, “Anyway, no pressure. Just sayin’ I can get ready in five. Six if you want me to shave.”

You glance at him through the mirror, blink once, and consider that he’s still there, draped over your sheets like a lovelorn teenage boy. 

“Okay.”

Eddie doesn’t move. And honestly, if you looked close enough, you might think he might have stopped breathing.

“Uh…” He clears his throat, sitting up with a fist over his mouth as he coughs a few times. “Was that— sorry— that was a yes?”

You suppress the grin that threatens to split across your lips. You close the containers on your vanity and stand, pushing the chair in, “Yes. Now get out. Before I change my mind.”

“Oh shit, you’re serious? Like— like this Saturday?” He asks with wide eyes.

“Friday. And I need to be home by midnight, no later.” You demand.

Eddie nods, like a child getting scolded and trying to regain trust. “Midnight, no later, got it.”

You nod, standing before him, arms crossed over your chest. A silence falls over the room for a moment. You blink once, eyeing Eddie as he sits on your bed, a slow grin spreading across his lips.

“I totally cracked you—”

“Get out.”

“Got it. See you Saturday, Malibu.”

You don’t care to wipe off the smile on your face when the door shuts behind him.

You don’t tell anyone. 

Not Mia, not Steve— not even the bathroom mirror you’ve been avoiding all day. 

You spun a lie at dinner, something short and simple about having a movie night, and when your dad asked who with, you shrugged and said “Mia,” like it wasn’t a sin. Technically true. Mia exists. You could be with Mia. You’re just… not. 

Instead, you’re going to be with Eddie. Steve’s friend.

Eight o’clock. That’s when you’re meeting him. A block away, under the streetlamp, just like you’d agreed. 

The house simmers to a quiet state as you get ready. You pace a little, change your outfit twice before going back to the original skirt and top you’d picked out. You apply your lip gloss once, hate the shade, and wipe it off before applying a clear one. You smell an array of perfumes until they all smell the same, and you’re forced to just spray something random, biting your tongue as you repeat to yourself, it’s just a movie. Not a date. Stop acting like this is something because it’s not.

It’s getting dark when you slip out the back gate, your purse in one hand with your pride in the other, perfume clinging to your skin like a secret. And maybe that’s what this is. A secret mission. Something stolen and sweet. Something reckless.

Or maybe it’s a mistake.

Somewhere along the way, between the gate and the driveway, your pride slips and falls to the pavement. 

Just a movie. Not a date. This is nothing. 

You tell yourself that once more as you walk down the block, holding onto your purse like a lifeline. The air is cooling with leftover heat from the day, a slight breeze that instantly cools it, and reminds you of the season. The sky has dimmed to a navy, the kind of dusk that makes the street lights flicker like they’re nervous too. You should be nervous.

You are.

But you don’t let it show. Because you don’t get nervous over boys. Not even boys that kiss you like you’re not breakable. Not even boys that hold your gaze like they’re daring you to run.

But the closer you get to the street corner, the more your stomach knots. The more you start to second-guess whether this is a good idea, which it’s definitely not. But you keep walking anyway. Like your common sense has just magically disappeared, and you’re moving on a whim.

Because this isn’t just a drive-in movie. It’s another step into a story you didn’t plan to write. And planning is how you survive. Lipstick, posture, perfectly-timed smiles, perfectly aligned future— armor. That's always been enough.

And then Eddie came. And you don’t typically feel sorry for turning away from a boy; you never had to feel sorry. Because none of them has been him. And now you can’t stop thinking about the way he looked at you when you said sorry. Like he didn’t want to hear it, but needed it anyway. Like he’d been waiting for you to say something real, and now that you had, he didn’t know what to do with it.

And it didn’t feel like a game.

That’s the part that’s unraveling you. It didn’t feel like a win. It felt like a surrender.

You pause before you turn the corner, allow yourself one more moment of quiet nerves as you breathe, smooth your sweaty hands over your skirt, and crack a smirk that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

And then you walk.

You can already hear Eddie’s music booming from the radio of his van, and it does little to ease your nerves. Because, of course. Of course, Eddie Munson announces his arrival to the entire neighborhood. 

As you get closer, you spot him near the van, leaning against the passenger door like he’s posed for some photo he doesn’t know about. His jeans are cuffed, scuffed boots toeing the gravel with a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. The faintest smirk tugs at his lips when he sees you. Something in you settles.

“Hey, runaway,” he calls out, flicking the cigarette to the curb and grinding it beneath his heel, “Nice of you to show.”

“I had to slip out past Steve and a dad who breathes like a dragon,” you say, lifting a brow as you approach, arms crossed. “You, meanwhile, are trying to alert the entire neighborhood with this volume. Jesus, Munson.”

Eddie grins, wide and unapologetic, as he swings the passenger door open with a dramatic flourish. “Apologies, princess. Good habit. Makes for a great entrance.”

You hum as you climb into the passenger seat, the scent of smoke and old leather filling your nose, “I’ll give it a five out of ten.”

Eddie makes a wounded expression, “Harsh— and rude— rough way to start the night, honeybee.”

You halfheartedly shrug as he closes the door and jogs to the driver's seat. Another moment of quiet nerves. And then he slips in, “I’ll change it for you. Just say the word. I don’t change it for many people, so take that shit seriously.”

You smirk, watching as he turns the key in the ignition, “A sacred honor?”

“An elite one,” he solemnly nods, “Most people? They get Motörhead or nothing. But for you, honeybee?” He looks at you and cracks a stupid, heartfelt look, “I’d play Madonna for you.”

You glare at him, fighting the smile on your lips as you roll your eyes, “Alright, loverboy,” you nod towards the road, “start driving. You’re burning up your cool points every time you talk.”

Eddie scoffs and waves you off, peeling the van onto the road with a shake of his head, “Rude. Again. Shouldn’t have fixed your car.” 

You can’t help the laugh that rolls off your lips.

You drive in silence for a moment. The city is asleep, everyone home with their families, tucking their kids in for a night’s sleep. Every light is green, the sun still dropping, flickering through the line of trees along the winding backroads. Fields roll out beside them like a running scene to match the radio as it swiftly shifts into the next song. This one is slower. Something you doubt Eddie listens to in his free time.

You glance at him, the way the light hits his jaw, his fingers tapping to the rhythm. You crack, “Fine. You get, like… maybe a point for the mixtape.”

Eddie smirks without looking, like he knew it was coming, “A point? Out of?”

“Five.”

Eddie scoffs out a laugh, “Tough grader.”

You shrug, shifting in your seat, eyes drifting back to the road, “Earn the rest.”

Eddie glances at you, tilts his head back and forth like he’s thinking before he speaks, “What if I bought you gummy worms?”

You turn back to him, “Do you have gummy worms?” You ask in a faux uninterested tone.

Eddie’s teeth dig into his bottom lip as he reaches blindly toward the backseat. He shuffles around momentarily, eyes never leaving the road, one hand on the wheel. You watch in amusement as he pulls out a crinkled gas station bag, holding it up like a trophy. “I come prepared.”

You pause, eyes narrowing in suspicion, “How long have those been back there?”

“Like a day.” He shrugs. You raise a brow, and he rolls his eyes. “Maybe three. They’re still good. Little stiff. Builds jaw strength— y’know artificial sugar never rots, inspector.”

“Rots your teeth.”

Eddie smiles, “So do you. Sweet as honey. I’m still diggin’ in.”

You shake your head, glancing away as a smile cracks across your lips, so wide you nearly feel embarrassed. You sigh, leaning back into the seat, “I’m not chewing stale gummy worms just to impress you.”

“Fine,” he rips the bag open with his teeth, “More for me.” He pops one into his mouth and chews dramatically, loudly, and obnoxiously. He hums as if it’s the best candy he’s ever tasted, “Best ones in the state, baby. Sure, you don’t want me to momma bird you?” He asks, popping another one in as he glances at you.

You grimace, looking at him, tone drenched in all seriousness and play, “You better not spit that at me,” you warn.

Eddie turns to you slowly, lips full of threat, chewed-up sugar bullets ready to fire. “I could. I’ve got perfect aim.”

You gape in disgust, blinking in disbelief, “You’re disgusting.” You exclaim. His lips purse, and your hand clamps over his mouth, startled but still smiling. “Chew, Munson. And swallow. I’ll sit here all night.”

His eyes sparkle, darting between the road and you, lips pressed into a smile against your palm. One brow lifts, smug, like he’s silently saying that’s not as much of a threat as you think it is.

You tap your finger against his cheek, unrelenting in your demand. He laughs, swallows, then nips at your palm, smiling when you squeal and pull away with a curse of his name. You roll your eyes, dragging your hand against the material of your skirt as you glare at him, though your glare does nothing to extinguish the pure joy on his face.

“You’re a pain in the ass.”

“It’s my best quality.”

The tension in your shoulders has unraveled, just a little. Enough to let you enjoy the rest of the ride and not freeze when Eddie reaches out and flicks his fingers softly against your knee when he says something else—something dumb and playful.

It makes you feel warm and fuzzy around the edges, like the last time you’ve smiled this much for this long was in a dream.

The drive-in is past the fairgrounds, just like Eddie had said, but it’s not the one you remember. This one is a lot more… handmade. It’s behind an old, rusted warehouse surrounded by a field and a gravel parking lot where cars are lined up— some parked like they’ve been here all day, and others parked without a care in the world, crooked and taking up space.

It looks like something out of a dream, if the dream were hazardous and a little bit illegal. There are fraying extension cords snaking on the gravel, and dented trucks are parked parallel to hold up a white sheet that sways in the wind. The projector flickers every so often on the sheet, casting a light against it like it’s fighting to stay alive. Warm lights are lit across the lot, lawn chairs are scattered around cracked open coolers, and a faint hum of music from a van that looks just as run-down as Eddie’s. It’s the kind of scene that looks warm and feels exactly so.

Eddie parks the van with the back facing the movie. He greets a guy when he steps out, someone named Mickey with rowdy hair, stoned eyes, and a blunt. Mickey supposedly makes the best gas station nachos, and for some reason, you absolutely believe that.

You both climb in, Eddie first because he swears he’s a gentleman that’s not grabbing for a chance to look at your ass even though you caught him doing so just moments before. Inside, Eddie has tossed in a nest of mismatched pillows and blankets, thrown around in a cozy manner yet somehow chaotically organized. Snacks and drinks are stashed in a bag, snuggled into the blankets like it’ll keep them cool. 

You fail to suppress a smirk as you settle with your back resting against the seats, raising a brow as you glance at him, “So, this is your thing? Lure unsuspecting girls into your van with snacks, blankets, and a movie?”

Eddie scoffs, feigning a wounded expression as he crashes in next to you, already grabbing a drink and passing one to you, “You think I do this for just anyone?”

You take the canned drink, cracking it open with a hiss and sipping with a hum, “Absolutely.”

Eddie gasps dramatically, clutching the drink to his chest. “I’m wounded, princess. Truly. I fought hard for this, by the way. And I thought we had something special.”

You shoot him a dry look over the rim of your can. “You said that after I let you steal one of my fries.”

“Because we do,” he says, matter-of-factly. “You just don’t recognize the depth of our cosmic bond yet. I mean, remember that kiss? Knocked the wind outta me. Could’ve sworn I saw your eyes roll.”

Your face warms. It’s faint, but unmistakable, like a match sparking beneath your skin. You try to hide it with a scoff, nudging his shin with your foot as he giggles.

“My eyes didn’t roll. How would you even know? Your eyes were supposed to be closed.”

Eddie hums, unbothered, ripping a bag of sour candies open. “I’ve got a third eye. The bangs aren’t just an accessory.” He digs a piece of candy out, popping it in his mouth before offering the bag to you. You pick one, toss it in, and immediately regret it. The taste is sharp and mean, catching in your throat and pulling a wince from your chest. 

You cough through it, taking a sip of your drink to ease the stress, “Jesus. Is that candy or chemical warfare?” You cringe.

Eddie grins around his chew, popping another in like it’s nothing, “Little from column A, little from column B.”

You swallow the candy, shaking your head as you lean back on your hands, stretching your legs out, “Your taste in candy is criminal.”

“Funny. That’s what they said about my music, too.” He drums his fingers against his drink like it’s a snare, mock-riffing. “I’m a menace across multiple industries.”

You roll your eyes, but your lips tug upward despite yourself. The movie flickers on the sheet in front of you, voices murmuring from the speaker someone set up between the trucks. The air smells like weed and sunscreen, someone’s smoking close enough to catch the faint buzz of it.

Eddie shifts beside you, closer without fully touching, like he’s testing the air between you. You don’t move away; somehow, the closeness relaxes you more than you’d imagined. Your laughs become loose around the edges, Eddie’s limbs soften, and your eyes meet more.

The van warms in a summery haze with quiet laughter, hushed jokes behind mouthfuls of candy, and the occasional moment when either of you pretends to care about the movie. And somewhere between that, your ankle passes Eddie’s, like a ghost, a memory of the diner, and a nudge into something more.

Eddie is warm beside you, and his thigh presses against yours each time he shifts, which, unfairly, seems to happen more often than not. Your bodies are pressed close, your arms touching, a film of sugar forming over your tongues.

“So,” He speaks softly, warm breath dusting over your temple, a smile trickling around the edges, a nervous undertone so quiet you almost miss it. “Give me the verdict. What’s my rating now?”

You glance at him. His eyes are on you, not the movie. Your eyes dart back to the movie, a small smirk easing across your lips.

“Four stars.”

Eddie scoffs, dramatically offended, “Four?! Out of five?”

“Mhm.” You nod your head, still pretending to watch the movie.

“Why? What did I do?” He stresses.

You shrug, “You forgot my flowers.”

Eddie pauses, only the hum of the movie filtering through the van. He sits up a little, “Who said I forgot ‘em?”

You glance at him, just in time to see him turn around and reach over the middle console, rummaging through bags and the empty soda cans he keeps tossing back. You watch, listen to him mutter to himself, toss aside a hoodie before— “Aha!”

He plops back beside you, triumphantly smiling as he extends a hand to you, clutching something, “I’m a man of my word.”

A single rose.

Well— it was a rose. At one point. Now it’s a little mangled, missing a few leaves, petals slightly crushed, stem bent in the middle like it gave up halfway through standing tall.

Your hand flies to your mouth.

“You let it die before it got to me?”

“I was freaking the fuck out!” Eddie exclaims, absolutley not ashamed, “I got it two hours before I picked you up. And then I forgot it. But then I remembered during the drive and panicked and tried to hide it in the snack bag—”

You burst out with laughter. The sad, wilted rose hangs between you as a testament to Eddie’s story. It makes your ribs ache with lack of air, and your cheeks warm as Eddie tries to explain why his gift is now fit for a compost pile. And then— to your horror— your breath hitches and you snort. A real, startled, uncontrolled snort, right from your lips. And you immediately clap a hand over your mouth like you can shove it back in.

Eddie goes stock still, eyes wide as he looks at you.

“...Oh my god,” he whispers, “Did you just—”

“Shut up,” you groan, face burning as you shove the rose against his chest,

Eddie places a hand over yours, grasping it like a lifeline as he laughs in awestruck disbelief. “No, no— jesus christ. What was that? Do that again.”

“Eddie—”

“Please,” he begs around a laugh, clutching the rose like a microphone, “Do it again. I think I hear angels.”

You groan again, laughing harder now as you collapse sideways, not even thinking when you bury your face in Eddie’s shoulder to hide your embarrassment. His body shakes with laughter, both you warm and full of it. His free arm wraps around you instinctively, pulling you close, and when he glances down at you—your nose tucked against his shirt, his rose wilting between you—he softens.

Warmth radiates from him like a furnace, and for a second, you just stay there, trying to catch your breath, your cheeks aching from smiling. And in the quiet stretch of time, you feel it shift.

The buzzing, the teasing, the fizzy high laughter— it all slows, softens. His thumb rubs an absent-minded circle over your side. You tilt your head, nose brushing over his collarbone, and when you glance up, he’s already looking at you.

There’s a crease between his brows, like he’s trying to memorize something. Like he’s caught off guard by how much he likes you in this moment. And you can’t exactly laugh about it because, well, you feel it too. You feel how good this is, how real it feels, tangible and soft and bright.

He shifts, eyes flickering over your face. “Hey,” He softly says, voice low, reverent. 

You blink up at him. “Hey.”

His fingers, rough and calloused, dust across your jaw.

And then, quieter: “You gonna let me kiss you again?”

You don’t answer. You don’t have to.

He kisses exactly how you’d been dreaming of since the first kiss. This time, he tastes like the night's warmth, laughter sprinkled over his tongue, and sugar behind his teeth. You fall into it like muscle memory. Like your body had been prepping for it all this time.

You pull away first. Barely. Just enough to breathe. Though you can’t breathe much when your bodies are still pressed so close like this— Eddie’s arm holding you, you practically draped over him.

Your eyes flicker to the side, a nearly unbearable heat creeping up your chest, lips tingling like they’re still pressed to his. You feel him watching you, still, drafting the aftermath— quietly smug, fond in that boyish way that makes you want to kiss him all over again just to shut him up.

He lifts the rose—pathetic, crushed thing—and sniffs it theatrically before murmuring, “Still smells like a rose.”

You laugh— can’t help it— and the softest little snort escapes. You don’t care to hide it this time. And Eddie lights up like a kid on Christmas.

“Again!” He whispers, scandalized and delighted. You roll your eyes as he tugs you closer, “I’m two for two!”

“You’re annoying.” You weakly push at him as he grins. 

“How many people have gotten you to laugh like that, hm? Come on.” He leans in, nuzzles your cheek like it’s muscle memory, smiling when you squirm away from him. “Tell me I’m the one and only. Say it. Say, ‘Eddie Munson is my laughter lord and chaos prince.’”

You bat away at him, trying and failing to suppress your smile. “You’re so stupid.”

“And you snort when you laugh. Which means I win.”

You roll your eyes, settled against his shoulder, snuggled like you belong there. “I’m regretting kissing you.” You halfheartedly murmur.

“No, you’re not,” he grins. He twists the rose between his fingers, eyes gently flickering over your face. Then, gently, he runs the soft rose petals over the bridge of your nose. The brittle petals whisper across your skin, light and teasing, until they dust the tip of your nose. Your nose crinkles on instinct.

Eddie freezes, dragging in a breath. “Don’t move.” He whispers like he’s trying not to spook a deer. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire fucking life.”

You laugh, batting the rose away as you giggle, “You’re a sap.”

“And you’re a shitfaced liar,” he mumbles lowly, leaning forward, eyes dancing across your face. His eyes flicker to your lips like magnets pulled to steel. Your breath stutters, eyes stuck on his. “You totally wanna kiss me again.”

You fight the smile on your lips as you shake your head, “No.”

Eddie’s already leaning closer, eyes flickering to your smile as one approaches his lips, “Yeah, you do.”

Your false protest dies on his lips. It’s softer this time. Slower. Deeper. More curious, like he’s trying to memorize you from the inside out. 

The rose falls to the ground somewhere, wilted and pathetic. Eddie pulls you close, lips twitching against yours like he’s quietly reminding you that he won. His fingers splay wide across your back, knuckles curling into your top as you press against him, his other hand coming up to cup your face. 

Your fingers curl against his chest, holding on like you need it to anchor yourself. Your legs shift between his, and you’re nearly draped over him when you tilt your head, lips parting in an invitation that he takes like it’s sacred. 

His tongue slides against yours— slow, careful, sweet— and your body reacts before your mind catches up. 

Heat licks up your spine, curling in your belly, and you melt into him. Everything else fades— the movie, the night air, the mess of candy wrappers and pillows around you. It all collapses beneath his lips, the sinful flick of his tongue against yours, his fingers curling around your waist, the tremble in your thighs. 

You make a sound you don’t mean to. A soft, involuntary moan caught between a hitch in your breath, featherlight and aching. 

Eddie pulls away. Quick and abrupt. Like he’s just touched something electric.

His breathing’s uneven, lips pink and bruised, pupils blown wide in disbelief. “Yeah,” he shakily breathes, eyes darting like he can’t afford to look at you. He peels his body from yours, “Yeah. Okay. That’s enough. No more.”

You blink, wide-eyed and dazed, “What—?”

“I’m gonna jizz my pants.” He says, completely deadpan. He presses a palm to his crotch as he sits up, eyes blown as they dart around the floor of the van, like somewhere in the rubble, he’ll find his dignity. “Like. Seriously. I’m gonna blow a load in my pants— you can’t just… you can’t make sounds like that.”

You laugh, sharp and bright, your face flushing all over again. Eddie looks at you like you’re insane and groans, “Unbelievable. You’re laughing? At a time like this?”

“I didn’t mean to,” you say, halfheartedly and amused.

“You moaned, babe. Into my mouth. Like we’re in some kind of fucked up romance novel.”

“I barely did.” You argue.

“I felt it vibrate in my soul.”

You drop your face into your hands, hiding your warm cheeks, ignoring your mind as it replays the scene over and over again, but Eddie’s already tugging your wrists down, grinning like a menace, one thumb brushing over your pulse as the other brushes your cheek. 

“Don’t hide,” he says, a little gentler this time, “It was hot. You’re hot. That’s the whole problem.”

You groan, rolling your eyes as Eddie grins. “I’m never kissing you again.”

Eddie flops beside you with a contented sigh, stretching out like a happy cat, folding one arm behind his head. “In your dreams, honeybee.” He grins, crossing one ankle over the other. 

“You’ve kissed me— thrice now. Nearly killed me with that last one, too, so,” he shrugs, “I know your secrets. I own your laugh. It’s mine.”

You narrow your eyes, glaring at him, fighting to keep your gaze from wandering back to his lips. “You don’t own anything.”

“Wrong,” Eddie loudly claims. He cracks a can of soda open, taking a sip before speaking, “I own your laugh. That snort? That’s legally binding.”

And for some reason, you decide not to fight him on that.

Eddie starts the van back up exactly fifteen minutes before midnight.

You both climb out, dusting off crumbs and straightening your clothes to at least try and look like you didn’t spend the last twenty minutes of the movie chasing each other's lips. You can barely pay any mind to the commotion of other cars around you as you waltz to the passenger side because you’re still buzzing with the feeling of Eddie’s body pressed to yours.

The drive is quiet, but much different than the last time you’d spent in the silence of his van. This time, there’s a content lull in the air. Your head leans against the window, your skin warm and flushed in the places his hands had been. Your lips still tingle. Eddie hums to an old cassette, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel like he’s trying to burn off the leftover energy. 

Familiar trees pass in a blur, softer this time, like the night has smudged a yellow glow over your eyes. You feel it in your chest. In the way your fingers twist in your lap, thrumming with a need to touch something. You don’t look at Eddie, too afraid of what you’ll do if you catch a glimpse of him.

The streetlight buzzes overhead when he stops below it, the same one he picked you up from. Somewhere in your purse, the crushed-up rose sits, folded up and full of the night. Later, you’ll pull it out and stare at it like it might summon the curly-headed boy into your room. You think you might already miss this night, as if you’re not still sitting in it. And that shakes something loose behind your ribs. Fear, hope, dread. It all mixes together and pumps through you like a drug.

Eddie drags in a dramatic breath, tapping the wheel a few times, “Five minutes to midnight, Cinderella.”

You glance at him, fingers curling around the strap of your purse. “So,” he hums, glancing away for a moment, “You gonna kiss me goodbye?”

You lift a brow, watching as pearly white canines peek out from Eddie’s smile. “Do you know how dramatic you are?”

Eddie scoffs, “Of course I do.”

“And you watch way too many romance films.”

Eddie presses a hand over his heart, “I’m a hopeless romantic. Sue me for having a hobby— you know what I’m not hearing though?”

You press your lips together, fighting a smile as you hum.

“I’m not hearing a no.”

You roll your eyes, reaching for the door handle, your smile finally cracking when Eddie leans across the console and tugs at your arm. “C’mon, baby,” he purrs, “One for the road.”

You turn to him, looking at him draped over the console like some stupid, dramatic Renaissance painting. He looks up at you, a glimmer in his eyes, and something soft and warm. His thumb drags over your elbow, gentle and kind.

You turn more to him, lean down, and kiss him. It’s light. Slow and sure, like something you’d tuck in your pocket and keep.

You pull away, your nose dusting over his, not quite fully pulling away just yet, when your eyes dance for a moment. Eddie’s lips twitch into a smirk, his voice gentle when he speaks, “Maybe you watch too many romance films.”

You roll your eyes, pulling back and turning to open the door.

“Same time tomorrow?” Eddie pathetically calls as you step down from his van.

“Goodnight, Eddie.” You shut the door before he can say anything else, but not quickly enough to hide the smile that lingers on your lips.

And you don’t look back, but you know Eddie doesn’t start the van back up until you disappear behind the next block.

Eddie weasels his way in like a professional con artist.

It’s not much different from before— Eddie was always somewhere lounging around your house from the beginning, but now, it’s different. Now, it’s loud. Big. Because now you know what his hands feel like on your skin. You know how he sounds when he’s breathless. You know his laugh, his smile, and the way he downs a can of soda like he’s just crawled out of the desert.

You know his favorite color is blood red. He likes sour candies even though they make his entire body shiver “like he’s dying”. He names inanimate objects and talks about them like they’re real people. He hates window shopping, but he doesn’t mind that you enjoy it.

You don’t know all of him, but the parts that you do? It feels like everything. And it suffocates your days like wet heat.

And it makes your insides churn whenever you see him, relaxed on your couch, bickering with Steve about something you don’t even care to listen to because you’re stuck thinking about how you were under him. Just two days ago.

You busy yourself, like before, only this time, it doesn’t work at all. The last time you tried to occupy yourself to forget about whatever is unfolding between you and Eddie, it at least worked until the silence crept in. But now, Eddie runs through your mind as if he were made to be there. And again, it doesn’t help that he’s constantly in front of you, cracking sly grins like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. Like he can tell you’ve been pacing holes into the carpet of your room and clenching your thighs every time you get a whiff of him. 

It’s mental and physical torture. 

And now, you’re fidgeting in your room, listening to the low rumble of his voice through the walls like some yearning lunatic.

You shift against the cool comforter of your bed, tapping your fingers against your stomach as the fan whirs above you. You swallow and shift your gaze to the wall, attempting to fool yourself into believing you’re not phased by any of this. That you’re not listening to the music humming from Steve’s stereo, and remembering the way Eddie had played that same song and sang off-key to it, stealing kisses between each purposely cracked high note. You shouldn’t remember the way his tongue moved. You shouldn’t still feel it.

You rise from your bed with a huff, padding your way out and down the stairs, on a mission to grab a drink you don’t need. You open the fridge and stare at it for some time, letting the cool breeze drip over you like a breath of fresh air. 

You don’t hear his steps until he’s beside you, arm brushing against yours when he speaks, “You’re gonna get cold standing there like that.”

You don’t bother looking away from the fridge's contents when you respond, “I’m hot.”

“Yeah,” he says slowly, “You are.”

You grab a bottle of water and shut the fridge with a roll of your eyes, “Do you usually haunt every house in Hawkins, or is this just the lucky one?”

Eddie snorts, leaning against the counter as he grabs an orange from the bowl of fruits on the island. He shrugs, “I make my rounds. Got a thing for the houses with cute girls that walk around in tiny shorts.” His eyes glance down at your bare thighs. 

You ignore the warmth that spreads up your neck and don’t bother tugging down your shorts. You shift in your spot, tilting your head, “You sound like a creep, you realize that, right?”

Eddie grins, leaning into your space, orange forgotten on the counter, “Kiss me again. Before I forget what it feels like.”

You don’t bother moving away from his proximity. Or maybe you just don’t want to. Either way, you stay put, breathing in his air like it’s not fogging up the senses in your brain. “It’s not healthy to be this clingy.”

“God, tell me about it. I cry myself to sleep. Kiss me— give me somethin’ new to sob about tonight.”

You look at him, deadpanned, trying—and failing— to suppress that fond look spreading across your face. 

Upstairs, Steve calls out for Eddie and tells him to hurry the fuck up.

Eddie lifts a brow, tilting his head, “Time’s a tickin’, honeybee.”

So you kiss him. There, in the kitchen, with Steve just upstairs, not knowing that his best friend has his tongue shoved down your throat. And… you don’t care. At least not at the moment.

You let him kiss you breathless, one hand on your face, the other squeezing your hip, spilling a whispered moan on your lips like a prayer. 

He groans low in his throat, hand sliding down until his fingers dance across the hem of your shirt, fingers slipping beneath the thin cotton to brush at the bare skin of your hip. The counter digs into your spine, but you barely notice it. You’re too busy chasing the heat of his mouth, too dazed by the way he kisses you like he’s starving.

Your fingers thread into his hair, his tongue licking across the ridges of your teeth. One of your legs lifts, hooking around his hip like it’s instinct, and you swear he gasps into your mouth, like he wasn’t expecting that. 

“Jesus,” he mumbles against your lips, kissing you between each word like he can’t afford to spend a second without tasting you, “You keep doing that, and I’m gonna—”

“EDDIE!” Steve yells again, angrier this time, “We’re fucking losing, man, hurry up!”

Eddie breaks the kiss with a groan, one last squeeze to your waist, “Shit,” he grumbles. One last kiss, and then he pulls away. He looks pained. A little guilty. Hair roused, cheeks flushed. “Gotta jet, sweetfang. Duty calls.”

“Sweetfa—?”

“Good stuff, by the way. Almost tops when you moaned my name.” He winks. You blink, dazed and confused, watching as he grabs the orange and backs away towards the stairs.

“I never moaned your name.” You argue. 

“Really?” He tilts his head, eyes gleaming with that usual glint that says he’s definitely being annoying on purpose, “Could’ve sworn you did.”

He disappears up the stairs with a grin and a bounce in his step, leaving you flushed and spinning in the middle of the kitchen.

You stay there a moment longer than necessary, still clutching the unopened bottle of water, still trying to catch your breath. The fridge hums behind you. The fan in the living room clicks softly. And Eddie’s voice echoes somewhere in your skull — really? Could’ve sworn you did.

He’s infuriating. He’s relentless. He’s everywhere.

And god help you, he’s starting to taste like a habit.

It festers slowly and thick at first.

One morning, you’re telling yourself that this is careless and you should stop whatever thing is going on between you and Eddie. Then, by the afternoon, you’re sitting on top of Steve’s car in the garage, eyeing Eddie as he lights a cigarette and says— “You ever think about how your left eye sparkles more than your right?”

And it’s so stupid. He’s stupid. And it makes you smile as you shove him away like you don’t want him to be closer, like he’s not already crawling under your skin and carving out a space between the grooves of your brain. 

And then it’s like a flicker in your periphery. Like a dream where you had been in one place and then you blinked and you’re suddenly in a completely different setting with entirely different people. 

Eddie finds his way to you like he’s a dog with a keen nose for your scent. He slips into your room like a man on a mission, spreads a palm over your mouth, and smiles when he feels your mistaken giggle against his skin, pressing you into your bed with hot, slow kisses that make your insides twist. He’s reckless and aware, always pulling away when the clock ticks, and he remembers where you are and whose house you’re in.

He takes you to the lake one night and drags you in despite your protests— and that little Eddie-shaped hole in your brain quivers to life when he grins at you, wet hair plastered across his cheeks, droplets of water melting beneath your lips when you kiss them away. 

He pulls you into his favorite record store— two towns over, an elderly man at the counter, and a thin fog of dust hanging between each shelf— and Eddie’s waltzing through like it’s his home. He shows you his favorite albums, which records he’s yet to put on his shelf, which ones he thinks you’d like, and he loops a finger through the belt loop of your shorts like touching you is second nature— and by then your body is fully tethered to the drug that goes by the name of Eddie Munson.

And when you think about it— when you really sit down and think about it— between Eddie’s loud way of attracting and your quiet way of obsessing, you never stood a chance.

“You nervous?”

Eddie’s fingertips are warm against the skin of your temple, gentle as they poke like he can pluck the thoughts straight from your mind and see them for himself.

His home is warm and humming with that summer afternoon daze that seeps through when you part the blinds to let the sun drip in like a hazy memory. You’re perched on his couch, legs tucked beneath your body, a cozy sweater loose around your arms.

Eddie’s beside you, dressed in sweats and a wrinkled shirt, curls pulled into an abomination of a bun. He’s got a record spinning— Black Sabbath: Master of Reality— which he claimed to be the best way to feel the high and be high. You didn’t know what he meant by that, but you don’t exactly know what he means a lot of the time because Eddie just kind of spits out the first things that come to his mind until they make a complete sentence. 

He pokes at you again, his other hand hovering over the coffee table, a blunt curled between his fingers, waiting to be sealed. You bat at him, pulling a face when he jabs a gentle finger at your lips. 

“No.”

“You totally are.” He grins, turning back to his task. You watch as he twists and turns the paper around crushed nuggets of weed, expertly moving around like it’s a mindless craft. He licks the edge, smoothing it beneath his thumb before grabbing the lighter and settling back into the couch.

He lifts the blunt, glancing at you with a lazy smirk tugging at his lips, “This right here,” he broadly gestures to the room, the music, the muted TV flickering forgotten images, the glow of the setting sun, and you perched next to him, watching him like gospel, “This is God’s gift, baby.”

You raise a brow, and his grin widens, thumb flicking the lighter to life once.

“This,” he continues, lowering his voice to something just above a whisper, reverent and teasing, “is how we get closer to God.”

You snort, rolling your eyes when you respond, “You’re making it sound like a ritual.”

He sighs, satisfied in his dramatics as he wriggles against the couch and sticks the blunt between his lips, “It is,” he pauses, flickering the lighter once again, burning the end of the thick paper. He sucks it in like second nature, the burnt smell already dancing up your nose when he exhales, slow and dreamy, speaking through a cloud of smoke, “Holy communion, but with way better music.”

He offers it to you, holding it delicately between his fingers, the end burns soft and orange. You hesitate, just for a beat, eyeing it like it might bite you. His eyes are already on you, half-lidded and slow and warm.

“You don’t have to,” he softly reminds you. “I can snuff it out. We can get high on sugar, and you can kiss me until my head blows… Both heads.”

You grimace, taking the blunt, knuckles brushing against his, and he doesn’t look away. Neither do you.

“You’re gross.” You mumble, ignoring Eddie’s snickers as you bring the blunt to your lips. You take your time to inhale, let it drip down the sides of your body, and lick the sticky spots of your brain. You cough, once, then twice, and Eddie’s chuckling before you say anything.

“Oh yeah,” he grins, watching as you cough a few more times, “That’s the good shit. Your soul’s already half-floatin' outta your body.”

You glare, but it’s weak. Your lungs sting a bit, and your chest feels a tinge warmer than before. “Again,” he encourages, “Let it sit, get your brain fuzzy.”

So you do. You trust him with it. 

You take another hit, eyes dancing with his as you drag it slowly, holding it in longer. It burns sweet and low and slips down your throat like a secret. Somewhere beneath the layers of your skin, the pink hollows out to a nice, warm buzz. 

Eddie watches as the cloud of smoke drifts from your mouth, slipping his knuckles next to yours when you hand him the blunt, “Shit, that’s fuckin’ hot. You’re a goddamn pro. Lay it on me, baby.”

You don’t think twice, leaning forward and meeting him halfway into a kiss. It’s short and sweet, like it’s muscle memory now, and you both just want it like a deep breath. 

Eddie kisses you again, deeper this time, slow and sultry, until he’s forced to pull away from the burn in his lungs. He blinks, low and lazy, a loose grin on his lips when he looks at you.

“How’s your brain?”

You smile, leaning back into the couch, closer to him, goosebumps rising over your knee when he touches it. “Fuzzy. Like I’m… dreaming but awake.”

He smiles something devious, twisting the blunt between his knuckles as he lifts it back to his mouth, “That’s good weed. That’s Master of Reality weed. Straight from the stars.”

You snort, leaning back further as the music hums around you, thick and dark, like the room itself is humming in tune. You pass the blunt a few more times, careful not to inhale too deeply. You’re already floating. You feel it in your spine, in the heavy, molten drag of your limbs.

You wave your hand in surrender on the fifth offer, melting down into his couch as you groan, “No more. I’ll become smoke myself if I take any more.” 

Eddie smokes it down to an inch, rambling on about this and that and getting distracted when his favorite verse from “Lord of This World” plays from the stereo. 

“Oh— oh, shh. This part is—this part is holy.”

He closes his eyes, socked feet planted in the carpet, knees spread as he drops his head back, throat bared and soft like he’s in the middle of a sermon, and air-guitars the bassline with a reverence that borders on offensive. You cover your mouth to stifle a laugh, and he throws his head around, curls bouncing with every exaggerated nod. 

He opens one eye and peeks at you, throwing one thumb your way when he speaks, “That’s gonna be me in hell, by the way.”

You huff a laugh, and he grins, “Like, you think it’s gonna be flames and pitchforks, but no— I’m just down there rockin’ out with Satan, doing solos while he adjusts the EQ.”

You finally lose it. You wheeze out a laugh so hard your body curls and your head hits the pillow in your lap, uncontrollable giggles slipping from your lips. The weed makes the room feel light, more vivid, more real, and less timed.

“You think I’d look good in little red horns?” Eddie asks. He gazes off in front of him, squinting to find the picture. “I feel like I could make it work. Add some flair. Punk rock prince of darkness.”

You lift your head, gasping around a fit of laughter, “You sound ridiculous.”

Eddie scoffs, “Get real, babe,” he starts, “You meet me in a club and I’ve got tiny horns and glitter eyeliner? I’m like a haunted cupid— don’t act like you wouldn’t make a mistake.”

You’re nearly crying at the image, Eddie joining in on the laughter until you’re left breathless and aching, your legs draped over his, leaning into his shoulder like it’s natural for you.

Eddie’s tracing lazy patterns on your knee by the time the record shifts into the next song, slower and thick with a steady bass, layered with occasional drops of naked strings and a haunting flute. 

You’re reminded then, with Eddie’s warmth sticking to you and his scent filling your lungs, that this—whatever this is—is getting harder and harder to dance around. You’re reminded that it’s getting difficult to keep pretending this doesn’t mean something.

Eddie’s hand drifts toward yours, his fingers brushing over your knuckles. “Tell me something real.”

You blink. Then hum, soft and sticky, “Like what?”

Eddie shrugs, his chest rumbles beneath your cheek when he speaks, “I dunno,” he lifts your pointer finger and drops it, playful, accepting when you curl it around his thumb, cool silver kissing your skin. “First thing that comes to mind.”

You hum again, watching as your fingers dance. Your heart races. You shove away the voice of reason in your head, hesitating momentarily before you reply, “I wanted to hold your hand at that stupid bonfire.”

Eddie huffs a sharp laugh, “I fuckin’ knew it.”

You groan with a roll of your eyes, shifting to move away, only to be caught by his hold. He kisses you. Cups your face and hums like you’re a sweet drink.

“I did too,” he says, as if you didn’t already know. “But I thought I’d get punched.”

You snort, not bothering to deny yourself another kiss before you mumble, “You would’ve.”

He smiles, his mouth still pressed against yours, his fingers spreading and wandering over your thighs, waist, dipping beneath your sweater. You get tangled, shifting over him until your knees are pressed into the couch on either side of him, and he’s letting out a low groan in the back of his throat, fingers squeezing at your lower back like he needs to remind himself where he is in the space of reality. 

You don’t know how you stray down the path; things move slowly and fast simultaneously, and his touch is warm and greedy. Rough hands anywhere he can freely reach, lips losing composure against yours before they drag over your jaw and down your neck.

You gasp a wet breath, every pass of his mouth over your skin sends shivers ricocheting down your spine. You tilt your head, hungry for more, chasing the sensation.

Eddie groans, nuzzles against you, and drags in a breath like you can cure him from the inside out. He mumbles something— your name or maybe a curse— and lets his hands drag up against your bare sides and back down to the base of your spine. He pulls you close, moaning when you shift over him, nipping at the skin of your neck when your breath hitches. 

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, “You keep doing that, and I’m gonna explode.”

You smile, sinking a hand into his hair, gently directing his mouth back to yours. You shift against him again, tasting his moan just as you’d planned, drinking it down like wine. He kisses you breathless, open-mouthed and slow, dragging his tongue through your mouth until you’re gasping. It’s easy to drown in him. Easy not to think.

He shifts, holds you against him, and places you beneath him on the couch, holding himself up with a hand beside your head. You follow each of his kisses, chasing him when he threatens to wander, fingers curled against his shirt. 

His kisses are sloppy and greedy, trailing down your jaw and neck, hands pushing up your sweater to mouth at your tummy as he slinks his way down your body. His hair is messy, barely held with a hair tie, spilling around his face in soft, dark waves. It’s soft beneath your fingertips as you glance down at him, goosebumps rising over your skin when he kisses just below your navel. 

You want to look away, the heat crawling up your neck wants you to look away— laugh it off, pretend it’s not serious. But you can’t. You’re caught in it. In him.

Your mind is floaty and warm, neurons misfiring when his rough hands drag over your bare hips, knuckles leaving sparks behind when they curl over the waistband of your shorts to pull them down your thighs.

They’re dropped somewhere off to the side, useless and out of mind, when he smears his lips over the inside of your knee. 

He spreads you out, gazing over your clothed core like it holds the answers to life, death, and everything in between.

You’ve never been looked at like this. 

Not like you’re just pretty—not like you’re some girl a guy wants to mess around with and forget about. No, Eddie looks at you like you’re his first and last sin, like he’s been wandering through the world with a hunger and only just now figured out what it was for.

And it’s you. You, spread out on his couch, still flushed and buzzing from the slow burn of weed, and his fingers tracing over your thighs like a prelude. You, half naked in panties and a sweater, and nervous beneath the low lamp glow of his bedroom, heart thrumming so hard it makes your breath catch.

His gaze flickers up to yours, brown eyes gleaming with something soft and lustful. He kisses somewhere on your inner thigh, fingers giving you a gentle squeeze. 

“You okay?” He asks, voice lower now. Gravely, quieter. Like it’d be a sin to break the hush of the room.

You nod too fast, then slow yourself. “Yeah…” You breathe. Your fingers curl against the couch, elbows digging into the velvet material. “Just… you're looking at me like that.”

His lips twitch into a grin, eyes dropping to your stomach where his hand splays out, anchoring you to the moment. “Can’t help it,” he says, “You’re looking at me like no one’s ever touched you before.”

“Because no one has.”

You don’t realize what you’ve said until the words are already out, barely louder than the low hum of Sabbath still playing in the background. 

It’s not like you weren’t planning to tell him. Honestly, you were sure it'd never even get this far. And you’re not ashamed about it. Especially not when all Eddie does is pause, eyes flickering between yours, like he’s tasting the truth of your words. 

And then he softens. 

His lips curl against your knee, a hand dragging over your other thigh as he murmurs, “Thanks for telling me, honeybee.”

It’s the name— the way it drips from his mouth with a different thickness than all those other times he calls you that— it tugs something loose in your chest.

He drags a finger over your cotton-covered center, just one, barely even applying pressure over the softest part of you. You clench around nothing, throbbing like a heartbeat. And Eddie feels it beneath his thumb.

“Already?” He murmurs, amused, voice a little wicked, a little worshipful. You let out something like a strangled whine hidden in a shaky breath. “That’s cute.”

You shift, lips parted like you want to say something but can’t quite find the words. Eddie leans down and noses at the seam of your thigh, letting his curls tickle your skin.

“Open up for me, baby.”

And you do. Just like that. Without hesitation. Like your brains completely gone and all that’s left thinking for you is your pussy.

He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your panties and drags them down slowly, like unwrapping a gift. They join your shorts in a forgotten land somewhere.

Eddie settles between your thighs with a look of wonder. “Oh, fuck,” he breathes. “Look at you.”

You’re squirming now. Cheeks burning, legs wanting to close like you can hide your arousal as if it’s not dripping onto his couch, but he holds your thighs open with steady hands. 

“Nuh-uh,” he gently says, “C’mon, let me look at you. You’re so fuckin’ pretty.”

Eddie doesn’t look the least bit ashamed of how he’s ogling you. In fact, he seems quite pleased with himself when he dusts a thumb over your clit just to make you clench again, like he wanted to see it for himself this time. 

He slides a finger down your pussy, all the way down to the stream of wet, sticky arousal leaking from you. He drags it back up to your clit and introduces a second finger to part your folds, exposing you for all your worth. You squirm, heart racing, something devious and hot settling in your gut. 

He hums, hooking a hand around your thigh and pressing a kiss to the inside of it. His lips trail wet kisses along the inside of your thigh, open-mouthed and unhurried. Your breath snags when he lingers, a thumb caressing your hip, eyes flicking up to meet yours again. He looks like he’s waiting for something— permission maybe. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth.

You tilt your hips in invitation.

Eddie moves like a man on a mission.

His mouth brushes over you so gently at first, more thought than touch. His breath is warm against you, cooling the heat of your cunt like ice on hot skin. You gasp, your hips twitching, and he pulls back slightly, murmuring something you can’t quite catch— something that sounds like so sensitive, laced with laughter and awe. He kisses you, lips pursed over your clit like something holy.

Then his tongue moves— slow, deliberate. Laving through your folds, dipping lower to catch the wetness dripping from your hole, tasting it—tasting you. You can feel him learning you. Not fumbling or nervous, but curious— measured. Every flick, every kiss, every drag of his mouth is purposeful, like he’s sorting the puzzle pieces out before placing them down, twisting them this way and that to figure out what makes your legs shake.

And it’s new. So new. You’ve touched yourself before, obviously. But this— Eddie— his tongue, his mouth, his hands? It’s something else entirely. It’s like being rewritten.

“God, you’re sweet,” he groans, voice low and rough against your skin. One hand is firm on your thigh, holding you open, his thumb tracing over the quiver in your muscle. The other drags slowly up your belly, fingers spreading wide, feeling your breath stutter under your palm. A needy breath slips from your lips. You can no longer hold yourself up, the back of your head hitting the couch with a soft thud when your eyes flutter shut, a shaky hand finding his on your tummy, fingers lacing together.

His lips close around your clit, suckling soft and pointed with intention. You moan— unfiltered and raw— and that’s all he needs.

Eddie doubles down, patience out the window, full throttle greed and lust— firm, hungry, focused. The kind of pressure that makes your hips lift, your fingers tight around his, a litany of oh fuck ohfuckohfuck spinning through your mind so fast it barely registers. 

You feel full of sensation. The heat curls in you tighter and tighter, unbearable, blinding— and he won’t stop humming and moaning like every drop of you fills him with pleasure too— it makes your toes curl and the coil in your belly tenses.

“C’mon, let go for me,” he mumbles, lips dragging against your center. He licks your clit, suckles, hums. “Don’t hold back on me, baby, just— fuck, give it to me.”

Your eyes fly open. You don’t even remember them squeezing shut. He looks up at you from between your thighs like he’s found religion. Like you’re god and he’s your loyal disciple. And the way you’re unraveling, crying out, legs trembling, stomach contracting under his hand, you think maybe you have to.

Another pass of his tongue, another suck at your clit, and you’re done. You come with a sharp, choked sound, thighs closing around his head as the pleasure bursts white-hot behind your eyes.

And he doesn’t stop. He keeps drinking you in, licking and nuzzling into your wet heat like a man starved. He doesn’t even seem like he has intentions to ever stop— not until your hips twitch away from overstimulation, not until you’re whining out his name in a voice you’ve never heard yourself use before.

He parts from you with a gasp, wet sticky strings of arousal bowing and snapping against his lips. He drags his mouth over the inside of your thigh, sticky pleasure smearing over your skin. His lips are pink and shiny, his grin wicked and proud. He looks wrecked. Happy.

He kisses the fold between your core and your thigh. Mouths his way up over your hip, breathes you in like a drug. “Shit, honeybee,” he pants, nips at your rising tummy before he crawls up your body. “Best meal to date.”

You blink at him, dazed.

He taps your hip when you squirm. You mirror the lazy smile on his face. “Twenty out of ten,” he adds, smug. “Can’t wait for the next visit.”

You laugh, breathless, shy, and boneless. You can’t even be embarrassed.

Eddie kisses you with raw need, humming as he presses his body over you. “I saw heaven. She had your mouth. And your thighs.”

You huff out a laugh, lazy and spent, “You’re gross.”

Eddie doesn’t disagree.

Somewhere between the start of the night and 4 AM, you realize you have to go home.

It’s with a dramatic groan from Eddie and the shameful event of grabbing your panties off his floor that you finally find enough life in your limbs to shove your feet into your shoes and make him grab his keys. 

Eddie’s got a shit eating grin on his face the entire drive to your place. He’s humming to the radio like a drunk idiot, drumming made-up rhythms against the skin of your thigh and acting like he can’t tell how often you’re shifting in your seat like you’re sitting on hot rocks. The hot rocks being the constant flicker of mental images of Eddie between your thighs.

You don’t want to leave.

You decided to admit that when he turns the corner onto your street. You wanted to stay there, in the Munson trailer, curled against Eddie and feeling weightless.

But you know you have to. It’s late, and the world is waking up soon, and you’re supposed to be in your room by the time your father passes by your room to say goodbye for the day.

Eddie pulls up just far enough down the street to avoid the headlights hitting your windows. He puts the van in park but doesn’t let go of your hand. When did you even start holding hands?

“Same time tomorrow?”

You glare at him, fingers twisting between his. “That gonna be your signature line all summer?”

Eddie grins, “You love it. Gets you giddy and smiley inside.”

You roll your eyes, failing to suppress the smile on your lips. You lean over to kiss him, just once, quick, before he can make another dumb joke, and you can think too hard about what it means now that you’ve started to kiss him goodbye.

He kisses you back like he means it. Like he always does.

“Go,” he whispers against your lips, one thumb nudging your chin, “Before I change my mind and lock the doors.”

One last kiss through a smile, and you hop out. 

You walk the short distance, same as always, cringing at the soft creak of the front door when you open it. The house is still asleep. The faint hum of the fridge, the ticking of a clock. You move up the stairs like a ghost, slow and careful.

You pass Steve’s room, but the echoes of hesitation are nearly gone this time. You’re too happy to stress over the implications. And not at this hour. Not after the night you’ve had.

But then— “…Where the fuck have you been?”

Steve is standing in the bathroom doorway, looking like he’s just stumbled out of a bar fight. His shirt is all twisted, his hair is mussed, and you think you see a bit of dried drool on the corner of his mouth.

Your heart skips a beat, but you’re quick— too quick, maybe, “I was with Mia.”

He stares, eyes squinted in that sleepy glare people get when they barely notice they exist. His jaw ticks once, he blinks, and he nods like he’s decided he’s not awake enough to interrogate that.

You nod, let the tension slide just a little before you move on. 

You make it two steps past him— “Since when do you smoke weed?”

You stop. A ghost of Eddie’s fingers pressed against your sides ripples across your skin. “Huh?”

“…You reek.”

You blink and debate whether or not to respond. You glance at Steve, consider the fact that he’s barely standing straight, and then you realize— he probably won’t know if this was real or a dream by the time he wakes up again.

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your heart is pounding in your ears by the time you shut your bedroom door. You press your back against it, hold your breath, listen for footsteps. Nothing.

Just the hum of your fan, the buzz of leftover weed, the phantom feeling of Eddie all around you, and the one thought left spinning in your head—

You can’t wait to see him again.

There's nobody in the future

So baby let me hand you my love

Oh, there's no step for you to dance to

So slip your hand inside of my glove

- hold me x fleetwood mac

part four.

cutie lil taglist: @kellsck @your-nightmaredoll @hereforshmut @emxxblog @mdurdenpitt @glassbxttless @peculiarwren @aactuaaltraash @daveythorntonslocker @bl1ssfulbaby @strangereads @wdsara48 @cowboylikemunson @mrsjellymunson

————

a/n: WOWOWOW GUYS IM SO SORRY FOR SUCH A LONG CHAPPY OMG!!! i also formerly apologize for how LONG this took me to put out, but i hope i did it justice and you'll forgive me hehe

anyway, as always, thank you for riding along, i hope ur enjoying their gross lovesick era, ily and appreciate any and all forms of feedback <3

[lil-quinnie]

soooooo gooood

⛧all hope is gone⛧ || eddie x f!reader || 18+ dead dove don’t eat

⛧tattoo artist! steve — ⛧rising rockstar! eddie — ⛧ f!reader= cherry

⛧post s4, this is a series of blurbs revolving around modern day times and flashbacks where eddie + steve survive vecna’s reign escaping hawkins to a new city to attend college leaving the past in the rearview… but repercussions always come back with a bite

⛧ sulfur ⛧ 6.8k

⛧ summary: possessive! eddie, sad boy! steve, reader gets work done by steve to surprise eddie with a tattoo of his name, it’s simple! harmless! to you… + smut, exhibitionism, mention of drugs and alcohol, demonic themes, soul selling etc

It was your idea to surprise your boyfriend with a tattoo. After months of him joking around about branding you as his in a more permanent way, you decided to do it.

A tattoo would last forever, it wouldn’t heal like teeth marks did or fade away like his hickeys would. His dick kicked up at the thought of his name scratched into your delicate skin. The same night he had mentioned it he had you face down in the sheets, burying himself deep within your walls until you were both out of breath. Panting, aching for and from one another. 

The date was set, and you knew better than to go to anyone but Eddie’s best friend to get it done, and Steve would do it for free, as a favor.

He agreed to keep it secret because you had wanted to surprise Eddie, but as the appointment creeped up, you became more and more nervous about trying to keep your present for him under wraps. 

The day of the appointment landed on a Friday, the same night Eddie’s band was set to play at The Bloody Dime, an up and coming bar that was known for fights breaking out and fancy drinks.

Per his demands, you weren’t allowed within ten feet of such a place, already having to find out the hard way when he beat the bricks off a guy who wouldn’t stop staring at you. 

Pretty baby like you doesn’t belong there, do you understand?

Steve’s shop was downtown from your apartment, a cozy little space nestled into a black brick building—Inked Demo spelled out with neon blue lights. 

The walls were covered with paintings of strange creatures you couldn’t imagine in your worst nightmares, deep reds and violent shades of purple. Steve kept various plants hung from the ceiling and more were potted in planters or tucked into ornate little terrariums. 

Inked Demo smelled of deep rich cedar and hand rolled cigarettes. The brick walls added a modern touch but not too much to be considered a place for hipsters to hang out. No, this space was carefully crafted to his liking, and there wasn’t another like it.

The bell on the door dinged announcing your arrival and Steve stepped from behind the back wall. His hair was how it always was, slicked back in a dark wave, and he merely nodded to acknowledge your presence. 

“Cherry,” he greeted, using the name Eddie had introduced you to his friends. He held your arms and planted a small kiss on your cheek. Out of all of Eddie’s friends, Steve knew you just as well as your own boyfriend did. “Good to see you.” 

“You too,” you say cheerfully, “looks like you’re staying busy!” 

A smile creeps across his lips as he lets your arms go and shrugs. “Yeah, I’ve been lucky this past year.” 

Steve had always been soft spoken and humble, a quiet type that used his facial features to convey how he felt. Walking to a small desk, his tall frame slinks like a shadow as he clicks on a slim lamp and begins flipping through a binder full of current work and past tattoos. 

He flipped to the page colored with two heart shaped cherries and the name Eddie written in pretty cursive in one of them. 

You gasp and cover your mouth in awe. They were perfect. Steve was able to capture your ideas through your own horrible explanations and gave his own little twist to them. A modern mockup of American traditionalism with the speckles of glitter you had seen on Pinterest.

His eyes sparkle through the shadow from the light as he proudly holds up the drawing, “so… where we puttin’ this sucker?”

Originally you had thought to put it on your chest, but decided against it when Robin had told you how much her tattoo had hurt there. She swore it was even worse when she had Steve cover Barb’s name over with a moth just a few short months later. 

Crossing a tiger print rug to the black tattoo chair, you sit down gently with your ankles crossed, “umm, would it be weird to put it on my thigh?” you asked meekly, “high up so it’s a little more private?”

Raising your skirt, you show Steve the placement. A slivered peek of scarlet lace panties were visible beneath the hiked up fabric in your fingers, and he nearly bites a hole in his cheek to not look. 

“You could put it there,” he ponders, moving a large veiny hand through the slick of his hair. “I’ve done a few names on the neck, initials on ring fingers.” He laughs and raises his eyebrows, “… I uh… even did one on an ass cheek.” 

Eddie would go berserk seeing his name anywhere on your body, but you had to admit, there was something a little bit sexy about his name being tattooed only somewhere he could see. 

“That’s where I want it, oh my god! He’ll go crazy! Will it hurt?” 

His eyes open wide but he shakes the shock from his face into a professional expression as he grabs supplies to sanitize his work area. He could do this. You’re a client, just a client. 

Clearing his throat, he chides, “haven’t had anyone cry yet, so I’m gonna go ahead and say no.” 

Steve’s reputation for his artwork spread far and wide, he was booked solid for months on end, self taught, making tons of money for a college drop out. Despite what his dad had said. 

He had done all of Eddie’s tattoos including the enormous stretch of bat wings that spread across his shoulders and down the expanse of his back. Sharp talons protruding onto the beginning of his hips, curved around to his wrists. Steve had freehanded most of it, as if it were from a memory. 

Biting your lip contemplating the placement, you think of Eddie and the swelling size of his cock as it split you open once he laid eyes on his name branded into your skin. 

“Okay,” you smile, “let’s do it.” 

Steve half smirked and rubbed his jaw, “cool, lay on your stomach for me.”

Flipping onto your front you lay with your hands under your chin, looking up at him through your lashes, “like this?” 

Steve sits on the stool facing away from you, straightening his table and tattoo gun, looking over his shoulder meeting your eye, “yeah… that’s perfect, Cherry.” 

You watch in amusement as he sterilizes his work station and sets up the ink, “Eddie playin’ at the Dime tonight?” 

“Yep,” you sigh, thinking of all the time you’d spent alone while he was gone, “last show of their local tour, then finally we can go back to normal.” 

A scoff rumbles from Steve’s throat as he wraps his gun, “what’s even considered normal? Everything is pretty shitty around here.” 

Propping up on an elbow you set to argue with him, “going to class is normal, hanging out with our friends, partying, sleeping in the same bed instead of him crashing in the back of someone’s van for the night… this tour has been hard on him. Hard on us.” you sigh a little, picking at your thumbs. 

Steve looks over and sees the sadness in your face, grabbing the pink disposable razor. 

“He texted yesterday to say he was leaving Corroded behind and starting up somethin’ with a few guys from here. He seemed pretty excited about signing that deal with Dark Records. Can’t say I blame him, anything to do with home is hard to deal with.” 

Eddie never talked about Hawkins. The only thing you knew about it was that he and Steve got the hell out of there the year he graduated, never looking back, never visiting. 

“That’s the plan for now at least… honestly, I wish he would take a break for a while, relax a little, but you know him. He’s really driven to be the best he can be.” 

Steve knew all too well. Spending nights awake staring out of his large loft windows, missing the way things used to be, regretting everything that happened in Hawkins. 

“Eddie’s…passionate…about the things he cares about, he’s always been that way.” 

That part was always true, Eddie carried his feelings on his sleeve, never afraid to show his emotions, or make sacrifices for people he loved. Steve himself was a living breathing reminder of that. 

“…alright Cherry,” his voice dripped with smoothness as he got closer to you, “everything’s ready…I’ll need to lift your skirt so I can prep the skin, you cool with that?” 

You reply with a yes, and feel the goosebumps prick at your skin as the cool air hits your exposed cheek. The rubber of Steve’s glove drags across your skin as he rubs in the sanitation spray, “‘m gonna shave you now.” 

This being your first tattoo you didn’t know what to expect, heat flooding your cheeks immediately, “oh my God is it hairy?” 

Steve chuckles low, a fan of his breath blowing warm against your skin, “not at all honey, it’s just standard procedure for any tattoo.” 

He was delicate as he ran the blade across you in small motions away from him. One rubber gloved hand held your skin taut, the other on the razor. Your ass bounced back to him after the last drag of the razor leaves your skin, and you swore you heard him suck in a breath. 

Steve had always been handsome, ever since the first time you met during that freshman year mixer in the backyard of some random frat house that he was rushing for. 

He was different then, preppy clothes and expensive shoes, surviving during the week just to live for the weekends. A flask with his name claim permanently pressed to his palm. King Steve. 

But somewhere between the stress of college and Spring break back in Hawkins, he changed. He dropped out of college completely and dove into his natural talent. Making a name for himself, carving his own path. 

That was why you had fallen for him to begin with. 

Your heart thumped loudly at the thought of the past, and you cleared your throat to try and change the subject. 

“E-Eddie said you have a date this weekend, are you excited?” 

Steve wipes your skin with a paper towel and spreads a thick ointment to lay the stencil. A small huff of annoyance escaping his pressed lips,“I wish he’d stop trying to set me up.” 

His thumbs sweep across the stencil laying it firmly in place, “oh c’mon Steven…Lydia’s cute, she’s in one of my elective art classes, she reminds me of you.” 

Steven. Nobody ever called him by his full name.

“Of me?”

Looking over your shoulder you meet his deep mossy eyes, “in a weird way I guess, yeah.”  

He looks back into your eyes, watching as you slowly blinked and drifted your gaze downward to where his large hands were still splayed across your ass. 

The dusting of hair on his arms tickled your skin when he pulled back gently, pinching a corner of the transfer paper and peeling it from you. He purses his lips and blows on the stencil lightly. 

Steve often thought back to the way things were three years ago. The way your eyes gleamed under the string patio lights, the scent of your vanilla perfume and how it seemed to bake deeper with the sun's rays on your skin. 

He remembered how your lips tasted like melted ice cream against his, and how deeply he craved to be floating in the candy confectionery of sugar and sprinkles with you in the center of it, center of his world. 

Steve shakes his head, trying to erase that time in his life but always coming up short. “This won’t hurt too bad, I’ll stop whenever you need, okay? It’s best if you lay down.”

Your chest tightens with nerves as you nod your head, pressing your cheek into the vinyl of the black headrest. 

The gun starts and Steve tells you he’s going to do the outline of the cherries first. The needle vibrates into your skin and you wince at the first few lines made but eventually getting used to the way your skin buzzed and the tickling pain that came from it. 

You whimpered out in a few spots and Steve’s velvet voice shushed you gently, telling you the worst was almost over. 

“Outlining is finished,” Steve murmurs, rubbing ink from your skin, “you’re doing really good, honey.” 

Your mind slips to him saying those same words but years early in an entirely different setting. 

A miniature golf course with clubs that were too short and a go-kart track. He had said it when you finally sunk your ball after par ten thousand on hole eleven. 

Sarcasm spread across his face and you wiggled your tongue at him and threw a middle finger his way. Only for him to chase you around the tiny windmills and fake grassy hills, catching up and tickling you under your arms until you were near to tears. 

You thought he would have kissed you that night, but to your surprise, and dismay, he had waited for the third official date.

“Thank you,” you smile weakly. 

He returns the smile and looks away, clearing his throat, “the shading will be a cake walk, we’ll be done here before you know it…might even catch the end of Eddie’s show.” 

“Really?” you say with a spring of hope in your voice. He couldn’t dismiss how his friend's name made his mouth taste like poison, but how it made you weak in the knees. “That would be great, Steve.”

“Sure thing princess,” he nearly whispered, “lay back now, I’ll be done soon.” 

Steve tried to blank it all out as his tattoo gun spelled  Eddie in a cursive calligraphy he knew was yours. Letter by letter he swallowed down the feelings he had been harboring from you, from him— from everyone. 

He wished he had never taken you to that concert. He loathed himself for the way Eddie slithered between the two of you, how Eddie could have had any girl at that after party but he chose you simply because you were with him. 

Steve tried to deny him of it, tried to steer him toward another girl, a girl who wasn’t you. One he hadn’t been in love with, one who didn’t appear in his dreams despite the nightmares clouding in. But one low growl and a flash of those sharp fangs and Steve knew he didn’t stand a chance. 

Letter by letter he branded his friend’s name into your skin, giving the girl he loved a silent goodbye with every curve and final dot of the ‘i’.

“All done,” he said with a shaky throat, cleaning you up, “wanna see it?”

You nod and reach for his outstretched hand, swinging your legs and standing to follow him to the mirror. It was perfect. Equal parts colorful yet traditional with a spark of modern flare added to it. 

“Steve,” you gasp, mouth hung open in adoration, “it’s beautiful!”

He rubs his neck and watches your reflection in the mirror, the way your mouth ticks up on the ends into the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.

His heart was aching knowing it wasn’t for him. 

The Bloody Dime had a line that stretched two blocks down. Steve had insisted on bringing you to the bar, knowing the likes of the people who attended Corroded Coffin’s concerts he wasn’t too keen on letting you go alone. 

You didn’t mind the company, tagging along behind Steve’s tall frame, his boots almost silent on the cracked pavement. It was rare to be with someone other than Eddie, even if it was just a casual walk to the bar he was playing at. But it was Steve, his right hand, they were thicker than blood or whatever it was Eddie sometimes said. 

The sky was dark and gray, dark thunderheads circling around the bar like an omen, and you shivered as the big red doors came into view. 

Steve flicked his cigarette across the sidewalk, the lit end skittering like a firecracker into the dark night as it came to a stop, little plumes of smoke wafting from it. 

“Johnny boy,” Steve purred to the bouncer, his clean shaven head gleaming in the dank light like a polished cue ball. “Pretty busy in there tonight?” 

“Buncha rowdy fuckers,” the burly bouncer said in an annoyed tone, “full moon y’know? Makes the crazies come out— you stayin’?” 

Steve rubs the back of his neck. “For a bit, I’m making sure Cherry got in here safe to see Eddie play.” 

Johnny leans forward looking down at you with empty eyes, “you know I can’t do that, boss would have me skinned alive if he knew you were here.” 

“It’s just this one time,” you bat your eyelashes in sugary sweet protest, “b’sides, it’s their last show!” 

Steve tries to vouch for you, “it’s alright, I’ll watch over her, and I’ll deal with him if he gets…” he gave Johnny a knowing look, “listen, nobody’s losin’ their job tonight big guy.”

“If. Whatever man, I didn’t see a thing. In fact, you two snuck in.” 

He leaves the doors unattended muttering to himself about needing to find another gig as Steve moves the velvet rope and you slip inside. 

The Bloody Dime was not at all what you had imagined it to be. Girls dressed as fallen angels swung from the ceiling in iron cages. Every wall was covered in a deep shade of velvety red upholstery, the stage was raised and at the rear of the building, a backlit full bar to the left and on the right sat a lounge with shiny leather couches was guarded by two bouncers that made Johnny look like a twig.

Sweat, smoke and sex perfumed the air and Steve pinched his eyes and pulled out a pair of sunglasses as he followed you further into the club. A pill bottle shook behind you and you noticed him cocking his head back and swallowing. 

“Addy?” 

Steve shook his head and smirked, “Tylenol, this place gives me a migraine.” 

“A migraine?” you teased, leaning in closer so he could hear you, “turning into an old man on me, Steven?” 

Lucky for Steve, the atmosphere was dark and cloudy with smoke the lighting always purple and deep crimson, otherwise you would have seen him blush at the way you pressed a hand delicately to his chest, and would have heard his breath hitch at the scent of your shampoo as your hair brushed the tip of his nose. 

No, you didn’t see any of that. 

Instead Steve rolled his eyes and pushed his tongue into his cheek, “c’mon Cherry, there’s a table over there.” 

He led you to a high top table towards the bar and near the stage. Steve pulled out your stool making sure you were comfortable before sliding onto his own, his back to the stage, eyes on the front door. 

Eddie hadn’t seen you yet, he was currently thrashing his guitar to a solo, leaning his body parallel with the floor that broke every law of physics. His guitar was balanced on his torso as his fingers frantically moved the strings in a dizzying motion. You could just barely make out how his long hair was wet, skimming the top of the stage. 

You watched in a hypnotic gaze at him perform, completely enthralled by him and the way he looked like he truly belonged up there. The other members tried to keep up with him but it was without a single ounce of a doubt that Eddie outshined them all. 

The way he moved drew you in, like a moth to a flame you were practically in a trance and you could hardly look away. Eddie held the entire crowd's attention as if it was demanded, willing or unwilling. 

“Wow,” you mustered in a half whisper half hum, “they’re incredible.” You had seen them perform before at other venues across the state but never here. It was almost like entering another dimension.  

Steve flicks his lighter and inhales one of his rolled cigarettes, “yeah they’re something alright, Dark Records didn’t sign him as a pity bargain.”

The guitar riff ends and Eddie’s at the mic, belting out the lyrics to end the song with a long chord. His neck strained with every muscle and veins protruding deliciously, and you couldn’t look away. 

Steve's eyes scanned the bar. He knew that towards the end of their set the crowd would get unruly. The last thing he wanted was for you to get hurt during some drunken brawl.

“Might be best to meet him in his dressing room, they usually flock to the stage when the band is done.” 

Although you didn’t love the thought of other women going feral over him, you noticed the seriousness in Steve’s voice and decided to go.

“Lead the way.” 

Steve weaves you between sweaty shoulders and a pair of girls snorting coke from each other's cleavage. The back hallway is crowded by another bodyguard and he nods in recognition to him. 

“Cherry’s gonna wait for the show to get over in here.” Steve says.

The giant man looked down at the two of you between his small lenses and the fat bush of his eyebrows, “Y’ sure that’s a good idea?” 

“I’ll handle it.” Steve replies simply. 

“Your funeral.” 

Eddie’s dressing room was just how you imagined. The walls were flanked in dark paint and ruby reds. The lighting was kept low, glowing ominously off of the leather furniture. The corner held a rack of clothing ranging from leather jackets to long animal print robes. A true rockstar in the making. 

“They’re usually pretty amped up after, so just keep that in mind, okay?” Steve says from behind you, cracking his neck. 

You roll your eyes in dismissal, “I’ve been with Eddie after a show before, I know he’ll be a little drunk, it’s no biggie.” 

“It’s different here Cherry. He—” Steve didn’t know how to tell you that Eddie wouldn’t be his regular self, that the atmosphere of The Bloody Dime was something else entirely, that Eddie had kept you away from here so you could remain naive to this part of his life. 

So… Steve didn’t say anything, he let it go. He could just only hope the repercussions of bringing you here tonight wouldn’t hurt you in return.

You cocked an eyebrow at Steve, was he trying to warn you? The thought fell away and was soon overtaken with excitement at the sound of voices booming down the hall. Rushing to the full length mirror, you twist slightly to get another look at Eddie’s name, “do you think he’ll like it?” 

Steve smiled. Swallowing down the lump of bile in his throat, “he’s gonna love it.” 

The door opens with a crack and it’s Eddie dripping sweat with a bottle of liquor in one hand, the rest of Corroded Coffin behind him. 

“Baby!” you cheer, arms open wide and running into his chest, “you looked so good up there Eddie! I can’t believe it!” 

Eddie hasn’t said a word. In fact his eyes are twitching at the corner, his breath increasing with each boiled temperature of his angry hot blood. 

With your arms wrapped around his neck you lean back to get a good look at his face. “Are you surprised to see me? I know you didn't want me here but I have somethi—”

“You‘re right Cherry,” Eddie seethes, still not looking at you, his stare hellbent on burning holes into Steve’s eyes. “I don’t want you around here.” 

His band looks around awkwardly, deciding to take the party and groupies elsewhere. 

“But, it was your last show, and I wanted… well I wanted to surprise you.” 

“Well congrats. I’m surprised,” he sneered, “surprised that you didn’t listen to the one thing I have told you not to do.”

“It was my idea,” Steve interjects, “let her show you what—”

“Steve,” Eddie hollered, “don’t open your fuckin mouth again. I’ll deal with you later.”

You were dumbfounded, why was he so upset? 

“Don’t act like that, what’s the problem? I’m not hurt, this place is actually super nice. Why don’t you ever want me here?” 

Eddie’s eyes darken and he lowers his gaze to you. Setting the liquor bottle down on the nearest table, he holds onto your upper arms. With the deepest breath he can manage through his nose he rolls his shoulders. 

“I’ve told you—Forget it, It’s fine! Show me what couldn’t wait until we got home.” 

You smile up at him and give him a quick kiss on his lips. “Remember how we talked about how hot it would be if I had your name on me?” 

Eddie looks from you to Steve and the twitch is back in his eye again, “yeah,” he snipped.

“Well,” you whisper seductively, turning around and hiking up your skirt, “what do you think?” 

Eddie’s fingers trace the raised tattooed skin on your ass cheek. It’s so silent in the dressing room, the only thing you can hear is the commotion going on outside. Eddie shuts the door. 

“Do you like it?” 

“You did this?” he asks Steve. When he nods in confirmation, Eddie’s hand grips tight on your ass before quickly smacking it right below the raw cherried skin. 

He lowers your skirt delicately and spins you around. The first time since you’ve arrived he looks into your eyes, little traces of veins color underneath his eyes but quickly disappear. 

“Sweet, sweet Cherry,” he purrs between a clenched jaw, “come sit with me.” 

Steve has been standing by idle since being addressed. He didn’t know how Eddie would take to him being the one to tattoo you in such a delicate spot but he figured it would be better that it was him than anyone else. Now he’s second guessing this entire thing. 

Once you and Eddie are sitting together on the leather sofa, he motions for Steve to sit in the chair across from him. He reaches into the mini fridge under the coffee table and pulls out three beers, opening them all before handing them out nonchalantly. 

“Let’s do a toast shall we?” Eddie raises his beer with his left hand while you’re tucked into him tight by his right. 

“To friends…” 

“To friends…” you and Steve repeat awkwardly. This was anything but friendly. 

“To friends who are more like family…” Again, Steve and you say it back.

“To friends who would touch and mark up my girl without even fucking asking me.”  

The room grows silent again and Eddie loudly clanks his beer with yours and Steve’s causing the neck of his bottle to break. 

You watch in stunned horror as he brings the bottle to his lips, the jagged edges cutting him deeply, but he doesn’t flinch. He keeps drinking as blood is dripping from his mouth and when you try to clean it up, he jerks his face away. When he’s finished he throws the bottle against the wall, splintering the drywall. 

Steve shakes his head, knowing deep down that Eddie would never let this go. 

“Steve, Steve, Steve…” Eddie chides, wiping a mixture of cold beer and blood from his mouth. “You and Cherry would have made quite the pair. You don’t learn, and she doesn't listen.”

“Eddie…”

“Not only did the two of you keep this from me, but you brought her here! To show her off like a fuckin’ pony while I’m—” the muscles in his neck and his arms tense into tight rubber bands, his eyes flicker to a hungry red, but he shakes it off with a roll of his neck, “—I’m busy, Steve! You know that!” 

“It wasn’t like that!” you squeak in defense for Steve, and that tiny little defiance alone nearly sent Eddie over the edge. But surprisingly, he kept it together.

“C’mere,” he commands, pulling you onto his lap so you’re facing him, unable to see Steve. Out of sight, out of mind. 

Eddie hated that you and Steve had nearly dated. He loathed that Steve had an entire year to know you, to make you laugh. When Steve came home for Winter break he wouldn’t stop talking about the girl from the frat party. Eddie was happy for him, truly. He knew after Nancy that he was never the same, and you seemed good for him. But that was before.

Now, after, when Steve and Eddie fled Hawkins and moved to where Steve had been attending college before he dropped out, all bets were off. That fall concert was all it took for Eddie to swoop in and steal you away, swaying everything you had once thought about Steve in your pretty brain and chipping away at it to make room for him, and only him. 

“Eddie, please! It was my idea! I wanted to surprise you and… and I didn’t think you’d be so—”

“So? So, what?” he sneers,“so pissed that you let him touch you, let him mark you up? Did you expect me to thank him?!” 

“C’mon man,” Steve tries, setting his beer down and talking calmly, “would you have wanted Spencer to do it? Or that twat Tommy? Because they’re the only other guys in town who kind of know what they’re doing. Infections and all.” 

Eddie ignores him completely, he’s focusing solely on you, wanting answers from you. Him and Steve can settle this tonight. His large veiny hands are on your hips and he’s holding you in place firmly, demanding the truth from your eyes.

You’re practically in tears as you sit on his lap and yelp out a hiccuping rant.

“I thought you’d like it! We talked about it for months and you were so fucking into it. Now your tour is finally over and we should be relaxing and living our life together, and this is what you wanna do? Please Eddie, don’t be upset with me or Steve! He did nothing wrong, only what I asked him to do for you! Because I love you.”

You’re crying now. Frustrated and a little embarrassed of Eddie’s temper. Blood is still dripping from the deep cuts on his mouth, and you can’t help but cry more at the sight of it.

With unbridled tenderness, Eddie reaches to your face and you crane your cheek for his hand to cradle, a sensual little gesture. He wipes away a single tear from your cheek, bringing it to his lips and collecting the salty drop with his tongue. 

His face turned to stone, an icy expression planted on as he murmured, “prove it.” 

“What?” 

He doesn’t blink, doesn’t stumble over his words. A simple cock of his head. “Right here. Right now. Show me, no! Show him that you’re mine.”

Steve shifts in his chair and stands up, heading towards the door, “I’m gonna—”

“Ah ah ah,” Eddie tuts, “you’re not going anywhere.”

Your heart is beating so fast you can't believe your ears. Is he serious? There’s no way. 

“Eddie… c’mon.” 

“Sit the fuck down Steve!” 

Dark red eyes burn into him and Steve sits down obediently, knowing that if he refused it would only get worse. 

You don’t dare look to him for any sort of objection, or a cry for help. If Eddie wanted to play this game, you’d play. Lowering yourself to the cold floor, you keep your eyes on him, carefully pulling at the zipper on his leather pants. You loved him and you knew he loved you. 

This wasn’t your first time doing something intimate with Eddie publicly. In fact the balcony of your apartment had seen more than its fair share of your naked form bouncing against the railing as Eddie pounded into you. As did most of the class rooms on campus. Although you both liked to keep things spicy, this was a first of having someone watch. 

His cock wasn’t leaking, it was barely hard when you pulled it from its tight confinements. Once your hand wrapped around his impressive girth and you pumped the velvety skin and tongued at his sack, he was rock solid. 

You dribbled saliva and slurped around his head. Sucking him in and hollowing your cheeks, you release him with an audible ‘pop’. Your hand worked his shaft slow and steady in tandem with your lip gloss pout, your eyes never leaving his. When you took him whole in your mouth as much as you could, he groaned and cursed under his breath. 

He was sitting heavy in your throat when you heard him murmur something but you couldn’t quite make it out. Popping off of his cock you replaced your hands where your mouth had been and slid them up and down with soft pressure and all the extra spit your throat held as you caught your breath. 

“C’mere,” he demanded, using a crooked finger under your chin to bring you up to him. He pulled you onto his lap and you straddled his hips, trying not to picture the look on Steve’s face. 

He kisses you hard, biting your swollen lips and licking his own blood from your mouth. “Rotten Cherry is my favorite Cherry,” Eddie preened, looking at your with dark hooded eyes, “but I’m gonna fuck you til you’re sweet again.” 

Eddie ripped your panties to the side and slid himself into you, and per usual, you sheathed all of him until you were perfectly sat and you felt as if you were impaled. 

Your delicate moans quickly became loud screams as Eddie worked your hips and pounded into you. With a grip on the rear of your skirt he drove up into your pussy at a brutal, delicious pace. 

“Tell me,” he panted, “tell me whose girl you are.” 

You’re whining and using his shoulders for leverage, but when you don’t answer Eddie slaps your ass. 

“Yours Eddie, fuck!”

His eyes glistened, and he licked his lips ferociously, lining his mouth and teeth with his own blood. 

“Did you hear that, Steve? Say it again for him, louder.” 

“I’m yours!” you whine, as his hips piston into yours harder, “yours, Eddie!” 

Eddie laughs wickedly, almost maniacal. He rubs his jaw with one hand and holds onto the back of your neck with the other, “you about to cum?” he taunts, “who’s making you feel good?” 

“Only you,” you’re so close to cumming, it feels as if you’re on fire. His cock stretching you wide, a familiar ache that you never got enough of, “you make…oh shiiit, Eddie!” 

“Fuck, that’s right, that’s my good girl,” he’s groaning and nearly there too, his hands gripped in your hair taking full control over your body, positioning it to his liking. 

“T-take out your phone Harrington, I want you to get a picture of this, as a reminder. Because this is what you wanted right? Why you touched my girl. Why you marked her? For me, right?” 

Eddie’s canines seemed to twinkle in the light as he flashed a murderous grin to his friend. Steve wished he was dead, wished Eddie never made that bargain for his life all those years ago. Death would be easier, better than this fucking hell he was trapped in. 

Vecna could have him, he’d gladly sacrifice himself to save Eddie’s soul. To not see his best friend's humanity slowly slip away more and more with each offering he provided to that ugly, vine-infested Ursula wannabe. He'd sacrifice it all to save you. 

Moving his thumb he unlocked his phone, opened the camera app and took the photo Eddie had demanded. 

You came as the flash went off, and he sang your praises and was soon behind you, filling you full and holding you as you collapsed into him. 

Steve pocketed his phone, turning away to light a cigarette with a shaky hand, his head hung in shame.

When you had regained a bit of strength, Eddie cleaned you up in the en-suite bathroom and called an Uber to bring you home. Kissing your knuckles first he brought you into his arms, whispering in your ear how he loved you. That you were his. He promised he’d be home soon, to wait and he’d join you in the bath. 

Steve and Eddie watched as your Uber came and went,

waving their goodbyes. And once the tail lights were out of view, Eddie’s eyes fully blackened as he stared at Steve. 

He took a deep breath before snarling, “you will never touch her again, understood? I don’t care if you thought once upon a time she was yours, those days are gone and she belongs to me.” 

“She’s not property, you can’t claim h—”

Steve’s back breaks into the brick wall behind them, Eddie’s fist gripping his shirt. 

“She. Is. Mine.” he snarled, his voice now warped like a ruined CD. This form he took on when he was pissed was much taller than he was a minute before, larger than any man. 

His eyes were as red as the blood moon, a fiery glow behind them, a true glimpse into hell itself. Sharp teeth glowing like the stars, the wings he’d developed were darker and bigger with each offering, leathery skin wrapped taught around each bony juncture, spanning wider than a sedan. 

To any naked human eye he was hideous, truly terrifying and worse than any creature Hollywood could develop. 

But Steve was unphased, almost immune to this behavior, the short fuse temper that had the club’s bodyguards scared for their lives, some of them even turning into a meal when Eddie’s wrath couldn’t be contained. 

“My friend,” he snapped next to Steve’s neck, “it seems to me you forget that you’re living on borrowed time.” 

“I didn’t want this,” Steve said calmly, “you should have let me die like the others.” 

“Oh stop being so dramatic Stevie,” Eddie preached in annoyance, “remember when you used to be fun? Now you’re constantly wallowing in self pity, holing yourself up like a hermit in that shop.” 

Eddie lets Steve go and fixes his shirt for him, a wolfish smile to his now shrinking sharp teeth. “It would serve you well to remember the sacrifices made that night, and the benefits we both received because of it.” 

Steve shoves a hand through his hair and pushes himself off the wall. Eddie returns to his human self, cracking his bones back into the appropriate lengths. Pushing the protruding horns back into his forehead, the cuts on his mouth from earlier now healed, no trace whatsoever of the deep punctures.

“Next time I catch your hand in Cherry’s sugar bowl, I won’t be so nice.” He turns on his heel, walking a few paces before calling over his shoulder. “Oh, and do send me that picture. You can keep it if you want, maybe it’ll give you some inspiration for your date with Lydia. Plus, I’m sure you’d like a little keepsake.” 

With that Eddie winked and disappeared like a shadow, leaving Steve on the curb, alone with his thoughts and the trauma the night had brought.

He sent the picture once he got back to his loft above the tattoo parlor. His usual ashtray by the window already filled from the way he was chain smoking to try and take the edge off, keeping to his current form.

Deleting the picture as soon as the ‘delivered’ message arrived below the text, Steve wished he could at least shed a single tear. But as much as he tried, he knew he couldn’t. He hadn’t been able to since Spring break, years ago, when he was still considered alive.

His phone dings and it’s a text from Eddie. 

ed: thinkin this will make a great album cover, what do ya think? 😈

Unlocking his phone, Steve replies with a thumbs up and sends his phone soaring across the room, shattering it against the concrete floor. Fuck he wished he could save you from this. Save that beautiful girl with a sweet soul, who smelled like cake and frosting. 

The true love of Steve’s life, but instead he’s punished by being a witness to your downward spiral. Completely unaware and oblivious that you were in love with a creature of the night, his name now branded into your skin.

tag list: @debkk16 @eiightysixbaby @mugloversonly @writhingg @thecreelhouse

[lil-quinnie]

[lil-quinnie]

I want to watch Friday 13th cuddling with Eddie and sing happy birthday to Jason at the end of each movie while cuddling, happy Friday 13th

[lil-quinnie]

the ones who were eddie munson x rebel!f!reader

-eddie munson likes the girl whos different -bullying, fluff, kissing, tattooing, violence, fighting, blood, au, not proofread, poc reader, reader has curly hair -word count: 2.8k -much more eddie to come soon <33

Eddie had seen you walking the halls of Hawkins High School for four years straight and he never once spoke to you before today. You were an unperturbed force in your dirty converse, smeared black liner and frown that'd been glued to your face since freshman year.

You carried a mangled hot pink backpack covered in pins, patches and the occasional splotch of dried juice, your hair pulled high and off your neck, stripped with cheap pink hair dye that you'd gotten the week after the first incident.

Eddie liked your style, and he liked your attitude even more.

You were among the miniscule group of students at school that weren't the typical perfect, wannabes. You were different. You flipped off whoever dared to mistreat you, you had your earbuds in twenty-four-seven, sometimes you'd bystander the Hellfire Club meetings, sticking close to your friend who'd been in the group for a few years now. But today you were a substitute.

You were always chewing gum and picking at the piercing on your nose, your eyes following the movements of Eddie's hands as he explained the game to you.

You were nodding silently, fidgeting with a pair of silver dice, your eyelashes fluttering every time you glanced up at Eddie. Once he was finished explained you leaned back in your chair and smirked, "and you play this every week?"

Eddie nodded, his smirk matching your as Nike and Dustin trickled in arguing about something he didn't care to get involved with.

"Why haven't I ever gotten an invite?" At your words, Dustin and Mike froze, staring at each other in confusion, their eyes on you and Eddie curiously.

Eddie chuckled, pushing his curly bangs out of his face, "never spoke to you before, princess. How would I know you like D&D?" You rolled your eyes, pushing up out of your chair.

You walked around the table and hummed, your hip pressed against his absentmindedly, "how do I make a character?"

Eddie knew he liked you after that. It wasn't just a mysterious curiosity anymore; now it was full-fledged hunger for all things you. He wanted to know everything about you: your hopes and dreams, your favorite music, the things you hated, everything.

At the root of it all, Eddie Munson was a lover boy and although it didn't seem that way because of how he dressed and the things he enjoyed, he knew he had to some something about his crush on you.

So, the next week in school he started seeking you out.

During lunch, you holed up on the football field to eat by yourself. You had a Walkman in your lap, earbuds poised in your ears, and a ham and cheese sandwich in your hands while you rested on your stomach, eyes busy staring at a thick book covered in dragons, fairies and other fantasy creatures.

When Eddie walked over, hands tossing a marble between his hands, you didn't move an inch, your arm reaching up to rest against your chin, but you flipped a page, your lips whispering to yourself.

Eddie smiled to himself after a failed attempt at getting your attention, and when he finally did (by waving his hand in front of your face), he pursed his lips awkwardly and hummed as you pulled your earbuds out with a slightly annoyed look on your face.

"I'm sure I'm the last person you want to see right now but, I wanted to invite you to D&D club this Friday as a member. You did really well for a beginner."

At his words your eyebrow raised, and you grinned, sitting up fully and inviting him to sit as well.

"Well, I'll be there then." Eddie nodded slowly, biting his cheek as his heart pounded inside his chest. As he spun around to walk away, you called him.

"Munson, care to join? It can't hurt to get away from the bastards in the cafeteria for once." Eddie mouth fell open a bit as he found something to say, and when you laughed, moving your backpack aside to give him room, he sat down, awkwardly crisscrossing next to you.

"You want to hear something funny?" You muttered, placing a ripped piece of paper in your book and closing it. As you stuffed it inside your backpack, you turned towards him, your chin resting atop your knees.

"I've never in my life had as much fun as I did Friday night than I've ever had." Eddie had a cute little grin on his face as you said it, which made you chuckle.

"Too many times I've heard how weird the D&D club is but it's totally not true!" Eddie shoulders sagged in relief, and he ran a hand down his face, "God it's tiring sometimes—not fitting into that tiny little box this place wants us to."

You bit your lip, glancing away, twiddling your fingers nervously as you nodded. "If someone told me it would include constant ridicule and depression I would have tried to change early."

The both of you shared a sad, depressive laugh and you shook your head absentmindedly, "you're cool, Eddie. I like you."

Eddie entire heart practically leapt out of his chest at those words, then he realized you meant them platonically and he inhaled deeply, pushing himself up.

"You clearly haven't met yourself then, sweetheart. I'll see you Friday." He shot you little air bullets before he walked away, head angled towards the sky as he reached up to his hair and tugged on it.

Silent days had passed after that. He'd heard you'd had a heated moment with the cheerleaders, something about paint, screaming and the principal's office.

Occasionally he saw you in the cafeteria, sitting with a little trio of people he recognized as your friends. You laughed so brightly and wholeheartedly it made him want to laugh too. You had a little permanent smile on your face as you ate your packed lunch, your hair styled in a large curly afro, that little faded pink strip a victim of your fidgeting fingers.

"Eddie, are you listening?" Dustin clapped in front of his face and Eddie groaned dramatically and stood, looking away from you as he stared out the window.

"What, you little shit," he said softly, daring to look back over at you, but you weren't there. Eddie frowned and sat back down, his ass against the table, feet on the bench.

"Who's that girl from last week? The pretty one?" Mike wondered, and Eddie smirked, "what, are you trying to date her, Wheeler? She's a little too old for you."

Dustin chuckled, slapping his friend against, "she probably thinks you're a child, Mike."

Eddie laughed, still searching the cafeteria for her, "me on the other hand, we're the same age."

Dustin pretended to throw up, "do you like her or something?" Eddie ignored him as he finally spotted you over by the trashcans, emptying out your lunch bag.

As you spun around, you were met with a trio of cheerleaders and Eddie smile fell as he watched the girls crowd around you, each holding cartons of milk.

Before you could even get a word in, they dumped the milk all over you, your face, body and hair soaked in spoilt chocolate milk that Eddie could smell across the room.

The cafeteria turned into chaos then and Eddie had to fight his way across the room to try to get to you.

One of the cheerleaders was met with a solid hit to the face (by you), while another was grabbing you from behind, using her acrylic nails to scratch up your face.

The basketball players nearby did nothing but laugh and point, Chrissy Cunningham looking fearful beside her douchebag boyfriend. It was clear she wanted to do something, but Eddie was way ahead of her.

"What the fucks wrong with you bitches?" He yanked one of the girls off of you.

"Freak! Get the fuck out of the way!" Jason Carver shouted, standing up to shove Eddie, but Eddie gave him one simple look and Carver backed off, nodding at his friends to help stop the fight.

Eddie helped you off the ground and ushered you out of the cafeteria, your friends trailing behind him.

Your face was red and trickling blood as he sat you on a bench in the hall.

"I will fucking kill those bitches and get away with it!" You spat, attempting to get up, but Eddie shook his head, hushing you as he pulled a bandana out of his pocket and ran it over your face.

"Do you have any extra clothes?" Eddie sat next to you, glancing over at one of your friends for an answer, and she nodded, scurrying off towards the gym with her other friends in tow.

"Are you alright?" Eddie questioned, pushing your damp hair out of your face, and you shook your head with a sardonic laugh, "no I'm not fucking alright, Eddie! I was just drowned with spoilt milk and jumped by prissy fucking cheerleaders."

Eddie nodded slowly, biting his lip, "yep, you're right. Fuck." He jumped up suddenly and you followed his movements with a suspicious eye, "what are you doing?"

Eddie snapped and grabbed your hand, tugging you off the bench as he started dragging you out of the school. "I've got some tools in my van."

You let him pull you out of the school, "tools for what?" He didn't answer you and instead opened the back of his van and grabbed an old toolbox.

"All of them park in the front, together, lined up one by one. I've got a pack of jolly ranchers and a few sodas. Coke will ruin their engines, and the jolly ranchers are impossible to come off of the windshield."

A slow smile overcame your face as you grabbed the jolly ranchers and opened the pack, "you are diabolical, Eddie Munson."

Thirty minutes later and the cars in question were covered in jolly ranchers and the gas tanks were full of soda. Once your friends delivered you a fresh pair of clothes, you'd decided you were done with school for the day, so Eddie joined you on the football field.

"What other snacks do you have?" You wondered, fumbling through the toolbox. He had gummy bears, goldfish, a small baggy of weed, and fruit snacks.

Eddie twisted onto his stomach, "uhh, I've got Doritos?" When you nodded excitedly, Eddie opened the bag and poured some in your hand.

You given him some snacks from your bag and also provided your blinged out lighter so the two of you could get high together.

"This one's gone." Eddie muttered, smoking the last of your most recent blunt and you groaned playfully, and Eddie laughed, rolling onto his back as he stared up at the cloudy sky, fingers tapping a beat on his stomach.

You sat up, your fingers prodding at his arm, "who did your tattoos. They're nice." Eddie glanced over at you, smiling, "I did 'em." You gasped, "what the hell! Can you give me one?"

Eddie sat up, "sure, got an idea on what you want?" You nodded, reaching into your bag and pulling out a thick sketchbook, "how about this?"

You showed him a drawing of a whimsy vine of flowers and Eddie grabbed the sketchbook, staring at the drawing as he clicked his tongue, "where do you want it?"

You tugged your shirt up and chuckled when Eddie's eyes widen at your eagerness. "Right here, on my hip, kind of lower too." As you pulled the waistband of your pants lower to show him, Eddie's cheeks reddened and he nodded, "perfect. How about you stop by the trailer after D&D?"

You clapped your hands in approval, "perfect. How much?" You rested your elbow on his knee absentmindedly, stuffing your sketchbook in your backpack.

"Fifty, but I'll give you a discount for being cute." When you froze, he stuttered out an apology, but then you smiled and squeezed his hand, standing up, "you're sweet, Eddie."

That Friday after D&D, you met Eddie at his trailer, dressed in a pair of floral cotton shorts and a lacy tank top that showed a sliver of your belly.

"It'll hurt you know." Eddie said as he unlocked the door his trailer and quickly started gathering trash and stuffing it in a bag. You scoffed, "of course it'll hurt, Eddie. It's a tattoo."

You followed him into his bedroom, glancing around curiously, "Corroded Coffin?" You smiled as you picked around his room, noting the endless band posters and knickknacks.

"The name of my band. We perform at the bar sometimes. You should stop by." You nodded, "give me a date and time and I'll be there."

As Eddie set up a little section in his room to tattoo you, you searched through his collection of records and then turned up the volume, your head nodded slightly as you plopped on his bed, your legs pulled up to your chest.

"Get a lot of visitors?" Eddie shrugged, opening his closet and rummaging through it, his shirt raising to reveal a sliver of his back. You continued staring and Eddie could feel your gaze

"Not many unless I'm dealing. Much more inconspicuous because people wouldn't expect them to step foot in a trailer park."

"I'm surprised I've never bought from you." Eddie pulled a chair up next to the bed and put on black latex gloves, his eyebrows raised as he turned to you, "you'd be surprised who does buy from me. When you're ready, you can take off your pants."

You laughed at his blushing, reaching up to squeeze his cheeks, "are you nervous, Eddie?" He scoffed, waving you off, "never."

As you took off your pants and got into a position, he could tattoo you in comfortably, Eddie applied the stencil of your design and started. The two of you were awkwardly silent for thirty minutes, your eyes closed while Eddie concentrated.

When the silence became unbearable, you huffed, causing Eddie to pause and look at you, "what was that for?" You rolled your eyes, "why are you being too quiet. I like you because you make good conversation. Is it 'cause I'm practically naked? If I knew that would bother you then I would've never come—"

Eddie shut you up with a simple shake of his head, "I'm not uncomfortable, sweetheart. I'm trying not to stare at you because you're so fucking beautiful."

You opened your mouth to reply then you stayed silent, your chest rising and falling as you shook your head, "you are ridiculously sweet." Eddie grinned, "don't tell anyone or they might think you're crazy."

You rolled your eyes, "there's plenty girls who wish they were in my place right now." Eddie hummed in surprise, and you chuckled, "yep. Before I met you, I thought they were being dramatic. Yes, you have the look; metalhead, curly hair, the style, but I thought you were like everyone else, a dick. That was until I met you. You're funny and sweet and considerate. It's weird how perfect you are actually."

Eddie cheeks were cherry red, a little embarrassed smile on his lips, his eyelashes fluttering as he continued tattooing you. As he went over a particularly sensitive spot in your skin and your tensed in pain, he froze, glancing up at you.

Before he realized the trick, you'd planted a kiss upon his lips, your fingers sliding up the back of his neck while your eyes were squeezed tightly shut.

Eddie could practically feel your heart beating through your skin, but he haphazardly placed the tattoo gun aside and gripped your jaw, latex covered fingers warm against your skin.

Your tongues tangled together tightly as you fisted his hair, a moan escaping from Eddies lips, his nose smashed against yours. It was a rough, messy and awkwardly firm kiss, but it made the two of you laugh when you pulled away and when you kissed the second time, it was gentle.

Eddie fingers ran down the length of your body and he gripped your waist, the bulk of his rings pressing into your skin while your hand was resting against his thigh.

Eddie pulled away and peppered kissed down your jaw, his lips latching onto the sensitive skin of your neck as he sucked. You moaned in response, breath coming out heavily, your eyes closed.

As Eddie began to climb on top of you, careful of your unfinished tattoo, the front door of the trailer slammed open and heavy footsteps trailed around the kitchen.

Eddie jumped off of you, running over to his door to slam and lock it. When he turned around to glance at you and saw you watching him with confusion he shook his head, "it's my uncle."

The steps finally came over to the door and Eddie's uncle, Wayne, rattled the doorknob, "what the hell are you doing in there boy?" His uncle grumbled, as he knocked.

Eddie sighed, "I got a girl in here." Wayne chuckled in response, "hope you're not doing what I think you're doing." As you laughed, Eddie cursed under his mouth, a little embarrassed grin on his lips, "I'm giving her a tat."

"Sure, you are."

[lil-quinnie]

For later

Love on record.

A 27 year old Eddie “the freak” Munson meeting “the Queen of Hawkins”, Steve Harringtons 27 year old sister at his friends dads record shop- that he’s heard oh-so-much about from one of her old fanboys- Dustin Henderson.

(How I imagine it to look like)

Warnings: flirting, reader is shorter than Eddie (under 5’10), swearing, smoking, reader is more girly than masculine, reader loves the smiths,David Bowie, the Beatles, billy joel and Elton john. Set long after season 4 (obviously he didn’t die.) reader smells like cherries. Mentions of reader being a cheerleader in highschool. Eddie daydreams/imagines making out.

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There aren’t many places Eddie goes to in Hawkins. Yeah, he goes to the cinema- the hideout, his friends houses. But one of his personal favourites has always been M records. One of his best friends Jeff’s mom and dad, Marcus and Maggie, were the ones to open it back in 1965 and it’s been a steady business since. Eddie often goes in- buys a couple of songs and a couple of those cool pics Maggie made, for “the metalheads of the world.” He loves it there. He goes almost every Sunday, even if he doesn’t buy anything half the time.

When Marcus and maggie got older, Jeff naturally took over the store. He got to decorate it and make it look..‘more 80s’ as Eddie had put it.

It’s a cool store- full to the brim with different albums and posters..the floors are checkered and the walls (what you can see of them) are a deep red and black. There are stairs to the far right -the railing covered in red fairy lights- that leads to the upstairs area where the couches and turntables/record players are, the checkout counter is near the stairs and it has magazines and pic stands and lighters on it, red and green and purple doodles him and Jeff and the rest of corroded coffin have drawn on the black of the counter in sharpie still there, the corroded coffin poster he made when he was a teen put up..he loves it all. The nostalgia slaps him every-time he walks in.

He stops outside of the store- ignoring the CLOSED sign as he puts his key in the hole and opens the door gently, the bell above it chiming through the store as he does. He left his jacket the last time he was here, his leather one, he knows Jeff dosent mind him coming in to get it real quick. His eyebrows furrow when he doesn’t hear the usual “for whom the bell tolls” or “run to the hills” blasting through the store..no, what’s playing is- “back to the old house”…he lets the door close behind him as he slowly walks further into the store, his fingers running along the tops of some of the stands- ‘when you cycled by. Here began all my dreams. The saddest thing I’ve ever seen.’ He almost gags at the softness and slowness- and boringness of the tune, the voices- it knocks him sick. What the fuck was going on? Where’s Jeff-? He’s normally the one working on Sundays…

He slowly walks down one of the isles, most of them are only hip hight so he has to look down to look at them all, but there are the odd few that are taller and up to eddies chest. He sniffles- but then stops and sniffs again..is that..cherry? Why does the store smell of cherry? he sees a piece of paper taped to one of the taller shelves- a pink piece of paper. <RESPECT THE RECORDS!>..Eddie couldn’t have said it better himself- but why does Jeff suddenly put up pink pieces of paper around the room? Yeah, something’s going on. He looks over and eyes the disc on its turntable..he gets out a cigarette from his back pocket- then his lighter and he lights it, letting out a small breath from his nose as he takes a long drag.

He stops at the counter, eyeing the small space behind it- used to the way the big, bright, neon, “record” sign hangs slightly wonky on the wall..normally, Jeff would be stood there and he would say hi to Eddie and ask him how he’s doing and offer him a free magazine. So why not today? He looks towards the stairs- then down the hallway next to the stairs and the before he jumps the counter- landing on his feet and squatting down to open the cupboard below the cash register, where most of the things he accidentally leaves ends up.

He grabs the jacket and sighs in relief- “I’ve missed you.” He mutters playfully to himself, putting it on over his black iron maiden shirt. His eyebrows furrow again when he smells cherry again- only more prominent this time. It was more confusing than anything, did Jeff finally have a girl or something? He turns to the smaller table behind him, the disc still playing that godawful music- and very quickly takes it off the turntable, reaching for the cover and sliding it into with two fingers, as if it’s some disgusting piece of trash he wants nothing to do with. A silence takes over the store and he walks towards where the smiths albums are, putting it on a random shelf before sliding down the aisle and picking up ‘I was made for lovin you baby’ by ‘KISS’ and smirking down at it as he walks back towards the counter.

You’re in the back of the shop, just down the hallway to the right, taking some new posters and albums and the newest Walkmans out of a box. It’s your second day at M records and the only reason you have the part-time-job is because you’ve recently moved into your own apartment, away from your brother Steve and your parents. This means away from your parents money too, which means having to make your own income. You’ve always come to the store to buy posters and DVDs and some tracks- you knew Jeff (somewhat) in highschool so you decided to ask him for some help. He was more than happy to let you work Thursdays and Fridays, those were the days he got to “chillax” as he told you.

You freeze though when you heat a small- thud out front..”the fuck?” You mutter as you lean back and look down the hallway..your eyebrows furrow before you pick up the box and walk down, freezing when the music suddenly turns off. “Hello?” You call out- but the sound of your voice gets cut off as a very loud rock song begins to play- ‘I was made for lovin you baby.’ You snicker- “there’s no way-” you walk further down- you scoff when you see a man stood in the middle of two shelves. “Can I help you?” You call out- but he doesn’t hear you, he taps his fingers against the wood in beat with the music, his head banging dramatically.

You scoff. “Excuse me?!” You shout- much louder and he lets out a small scream and turns to you, one hand held out towards you and the other wacking a cover off its rack, the cigarette that was in his mouth falls to the floor…

You stare at eachover for a couple of moments…before you storm towards the record and stopping it. “Munson?..what are you doing here?! It’s closed- or can you not read?!” You glare at him, recognising him straight away-

Eddies eyes widen as he dips down and snatches up the record, putting it on the shelf once again- he looks you up and down..the last time he saw you was highschool, you were a cheerleader- one of the hottest may he add. He was always into you. Still is if he’s being honest. “Is that you, Harrington?” He smirks and leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he practically stares at you. “Yeah it’s me, don’t cream your pants.” You scoff. “I thought being held back 2 years made you smarter? At least to reading level.” You narrow your eyes at him. He grins and shrugs- “it’s my friends store, I’m allowed in when I want- what’s your excuse, sweetheart?” His eyes flicker to the box in your hands. You walk towards the other side of the counter and put the box on top of it. “I work here.”

He watches as you put what’s left in the box on the counter. “Since when?” You put the box on the floor and look around- wondering where the fuck Jeff thinks you’re putting these posters up..“since I got the job.” You mutter sarcastically, main him snicker softly and move towards where your stood, leaning against the counter in front of you as he looks at you. “Would have thought you were in daddy’s pool, sipping a martini right now.” He raises an eyebrow.

“Fuc-” you stop yourself, sighing. “You planning on buying something- or just be a dickhead?” You lean forwards slightly, your elbow going to the counter and your chin moving to rest in the palm of your hand. “Maybe I’m stalling so I can keep talking to you?” He leans against the counter, his hands moving to the counter- the red light from the sign behind you shines against his rings and the jacket he’s wearing looks just a touch too good on him- his wild curly hair you haven’t seen in years is begging to be tugged- “this isn’t talking, this is being annoying.” you look into his eyes, your tone a matter of fact. “Fine, look at you then. Your even prettier when your not waving pom-poms around.” “Fuck you, Munson, I haven’t touched those Pom poms in years.” He snickers. “Not even that cute little skirt?” He takes a step back and does a playful twirl, pretending to mess with an imaginary skirt- smiling at you as he does. You can’t help the very small smirk that appears on your face. “No, not even the skirt. Now buy something or beat it.”

He shrugs and turns to the other shelves, his fingers pushing them forward as he goes through them. “Looking” for something to buy. “I take it that was you?” He flicks the pink piece of paper. “Very pink.”

You nod slowly. “Yeah, some kids came in yesterday..wrecked a ton of shit.” You shrug. “Pissed me off.” He grins. “And you think a pink piece of paper with a scary explanation mark is gonna scare em off?” He says sarcastically, making you scoff. “It’s better than nothing, isn’t it?” You raise an unamused eyebrow and he raises his hands in surrender playfully.

…

He grins..“You like the smiths huh?” You look at him for a moment..fine..You’ll bite. “Yes, why?” He shrugs and smirks..“just..different.” “So is iron maiden.” He raises his eyebrows and nods slowly..“touché. What else do you like?” He suddenly bends down and picks up the cigarette from earlier- throwing it into the bin next to the counter. “A couple of people..billy Joel, Elton John..Bowie, the Beatles.” You shrug..“we’re not too similar, music wise.”

He snickers. “I can tell. Billy Joel. Wow.” He’s obviously mocking you- but there’s no venom in his voice..just playfulness..but then he smells that cherry again and stares at you. “It’s you..you smell like cherries.” You raise an eyebrow before you gasp quietly- “yeah, it’s my shampoo..blinks, doesn’t really fit in with the..rockish vibes going on in here. Sorry.” You say sorry in the most sarcastic voice he’s ever heard. And he loves it..and all of a sudden, he’s craving cherry. “Don’t worry about it- it’s a nice touch.” He playfully gives you the thumbs up. It’s obvious he’s stalling.

“are you gonna get something? Your lucky your still even in here, were most definitely closed. To everyone, even the owners best friend.” You pout playfully, blinking at him.

He smirks..“fine, you want me to buy something? I’ll buy something.” He slowly walks towards the shelves that have all the pins and badges in them.

“You still in that band?…that coffin one?” He glances at you- a huge grin on his face. “Corroded coffin..Yeah, I’m surprised you remember.” He looks to the poster on the wall then quickly back to the badges..“we still only play at the hideout, not a huge band..” you nod slowly..your eyes raking his body. “Well- it’s kinda hard to forget. And I don’t mean it as a compliment.” You smirk. “You- in general..are hard to forget. Most of the time anyway.” You snicker. “I don’t think your as much as a freak as you make yourself out to be though- I mean 5 years later and your still playing at the hideout? Not very freakish.”

He turns to you and dramatically brings his hand to his chest his chest- his fingers grabbing the material of his shirt. “How dare you!” You laugh and tilt your head slightly at him..he grins- his eyes looking you over..as he slowly brings his hand back to the pins, his other hand moving to his hip. “I’ll have you know, I’m the biggest freak you’ll ever meet- I’m so freakish, it’s the only thing I have going for me.”

You burst out laughing and smile to him. “I doubt that.”

He lets out a small laugh and picks up a pin. “You wanna bet?” He walks back towards the counter and throws the pin onto it in front of you. You smile as you pick it up- looking down to the writing on it. “Support the arts Sleep with a musician.” You laugh and look from it to him. “Very poetic pin- modern Shakespeare..” You nod sarcastically as you scan it.

He grins. “That doesn’t have to be just a pin, sweetheart.” He raises an retro and looks into your eyes as you slowly slide the plastic over towards him, (his mind, isn’t as calm as his body is. ‘FUCK WHERE DID HE GET THIS CONFIDENCE FROM? your gonna slap him. Or hit him- or come around the table and wack his balls-)

He imagines you ending up in the backroom together. He grabs your hips and pushes you against the walls, your lips smashing against his as his hands go to your shirt, tugging at it as he rolls his hips into yours needily- breathy moans leaving his mouth with every movement, he can’t believe this is happening-

“your such a dork.” You smirk. “Nothings changed, really..” you shamelessly look him up and down. He snaps back to reality and looks at you.

He smiles shyly and shrugs. “I try..you’ve changed. A lot.” He looks to you and sees the confusion on your face- his smile is gone instantly. “in a good way!” He nods quickly. “A very good way.” He holds his hands out to you and motions to your body- “mentally- and physically!” He brings his hands away when he realises how pervy he probably seems.

You burst out laughing, a huge grin on your face as he rattles on. “I get it..and I think so too..” you look into his eyes- that smile still there..“two dollars.”

He nods and quickly gets out his wallet. He couldn’t give a bigger shit that he normally gets three pins for free, never-mind one- he wanted to stay here as long as possible, now. “Here.” He gets out two dollars and you nod as you take them, putting them into the cash machine and closing it with your hip. “You’re still..single, right?” You raise an eyebrow…he looks to the pin for a couple of seconds before he looks back to you in question. “Yeah..you?” He looks into your eyes…“yes..”

…you look at each-over for a couple of seconds..just staring.

..“so- when’s your next gig?” You look up at him, raising your eyebrows in question.

“Tuesday..why, you interested?” He raises an eyebrow back playfully- tilting his head upwards as he looks down at you, his eyes narrowing. “Maybe. Is that okay?” You smile and lean slightly more forward on the counter, looking even more up at him. “More than okay, actually.” He grins and tilts his head back down to look at you, his big, brown, doe eyes stare into yours. “7:30.” He says quietly. “I’ll be there.” You whisper back. “It’s a date?” He says..it’s supposed to come out as a statement..but it comes out as more of a question. “It’s a date.” You smile…he looks down at you for a couple of seconds before he slowly smiles back..he nods and turns, putting the badge on his jacket as he does..he gets to the door and turns to you- one hand on the glass and the other pointing at you.

“Thats a yes to the pin then?”

“Shut up, Munson.”

[lil-quinnie]

invisible lovers iii

part three: lonesome love

best friend!perv!virgin!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: Faced with a difficult decision, you make a choice. The consequences of Eddie’s actions come back to bite him. Roles are reversed.

wc: ~10k

warnings: 18+ MDNI, mixed POV, angst, smut, self-esteem issues, jealousy, mutual pining, misunderstandings, toxic relationship/emotional abuse, Dylan (ugh!), controlling behavior, mention of cheating (not Eddie or reader), swearing, alcohol use, mention of virginity loss (reader), f!masturbation, emotional infidelity (reader, but we’re going to excuse it bc of reasons), possessive!Eddie, v. fingering, dirty talk, phone sex, mutual masturbation (kinda?), oral f!receiving, piv sex, virginity loss (Eddie)

a/n: Uh-oh! Stressed-out bandana Eddie in the header is never a good sign. Credit to Mitski’s Lonesome Love and Old Friend for angsty inspiration.

Part Two Series Masterlist

Looking back, Eddie wasn't sure why he led you to believe he was seeing other people.

In hindsight, it had been a mistake.

He supposed it had started as a misguided way to convince you to go along with his plan — the whole idea being that you both needed the practice for future dates.

He had to make it believable.

Maybe in some strange, twisted way it had also been a chance for him to show you that other people found him desirable — that he was worthy of love and attention.

For years he'd been forced to swallow down bitter envy in the face of your undying devotion to Dylan. It had felt good to see you get a little jealous for a change.

Sure, he’d been approached by a few different girls since the two of you had come to your agreement, but he'd never so much as touched them — that was only for you.

He was pretty sure that even if he'd tried, his cock wouldn't have cooperated anyway — he was so obsessed with you and your body that no one else could ever compare.

He should have told you.

Eddie had planned to confess his feelings, he'd just been waiting for the right time. It was hard for him to open up and let himself be vulnerable in that way.

In his whole life, other than Wayne, no one else had ever just loved him without an ulterior motive or some kind of obligation.

It had never occurred to him that he didn't need to trick you into falling in love with him. He hadn't even stopped to consider that those feelings might have been there all along.

Yes, he’d wanted to make you jealous, but there was no way he could have known that each of his invisible lovers were like cuts along the tender ridges of your heart.

He hadn't intended for his lies to hurt you, but you know what they say about good intentions — he’d paved that road to hell and now he wasn't sure how to find his way back home.

"Is everything ok?"

Dylan's voice pulled you from your thoughts and back to the dimly lit restaurant where he sat across from you, assessing your faraway expression with a frown.

His megawatt smiled had disappeared the moment he’d noticed you weren’t listening. "You kinda seemed like you were somewhere else for a minute.”

"Sorry.” You smiled to cover your discomfort then held up a stray piece of lettuce on your fork. “I was just distracted by how delicious the food is tonight."

You held your breath, hoping he wouldn't see through your lame, half-hearted excuse. When he resumed eating his dinner, you exhaled a quiet sigh of relief.

He wasn’t wrong. Ever since you had arrived at Enzo’s you’d been drifting in and out of the conversation, your mind preoccupied with Eddie on his date somewhere across town.

Deep down, you knew you were being ridiculous. What you had with Eddie wasn’t real. You couldn’t get upset every time he went on a date with someone else — that was kind of the whole point.

Still, as Dylan prattled on endlessly, you struggled to focus on what he was saying, too busy with the unpleasant images that kept involuntarily flooding your brain. Eddie kissing someone else, his tongue teasing a slow path down their neck. His hands roving someone else’s body in the back of his van.

You looked across the table at Dylan — handsome in a crisp tailored shirt and expensive-looking tie, a sight that a few weeks before would have set your heart aflame.

“…my father plans to retire soon and I hope to take over the business when he does.”

“That’s exciting.” You smiled politely, trying your best to sound enthused.

“The only problem is, my parents don’t take me seriously,” he complained, cutting into his steak. “They don’t think I’m ready to settle down and handle that kind of responsibility.”

You offered a sympathetic nod then took a much-needed sip of wine. When you set down your glass, he reached out for your hand.

“If I’m being totally honest, that’s kind of why I asked you out tonight.”

You looked at him in confusion. “It is?”

He winked at you with a boyish twinkle. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re just so different from the other women I’ve dated. They’ve all been super hot with killer bods but never had much going on upstairs. Not exactly the type of girls you can take home to your parents.”

You froze as an all too familiar dread started its slow creep up your spine — the same sickening chill you’d always felt when the mean girls at school would cut you to pieces in their cunning, roundabout way.

Was he saying you weren’t pretty?

He chuckled at your stunned expression. “Listen, my parents are very conservative. They want to see me with a certain type of partner. Someone a bit more plain and reserved…like you.”

You pulled your hand away from his.

“B-but I’m not like that anymore.” You gestured to the revealing neckline of your low cut dress. “I’ve changed. I wear different clothes now, I—”

“Yeah, but you don’t really pull it off, now do you?” He leaned back with a knowing smile. “You’re kind of like an innocent lamb who’s trying on the sexy wolf’s clothing. It’s not who you really are.”

You swallowed to fight back tears. So Dylan had only asked you on a date to impress his parents? You’d been so flattered by his attention. You felt like a fool.

“Do you even like me at all?” Your lip trembled and his face immediately softened in response.

“Oh, of course I do. Ever since you started fixing yourself up, you’re actually really pretty. That’s why this is so perfect.”

You blinked away an unshed tear. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if you want to give a relationship a try, I think we could have a lot of fun. I can introduce you to a whole new world. You won’t be stuck hanging out with that freak anymore.”

He grimaced as if the insult had left a bad taste in his mouth.

“He’s not a freak,” you huffed, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Insulting you was one thing, but you weren’t going to sit there and let him badmouth Eddie.

Dylan tilted his head and for a moment you envisioned an imposing bird of prey, eyeing its victim before it went in for the kill.

“So what’s the deal with you two, anyway? Are you sleeping with him?”

“Well…no,” you hesitated, thrown off by his question. “I mean, we’ve fooled around before but we’re not together.”

His eyes narrowed. “So you’re friends with benefits?”

“Um, I don’t know. I guess?” You looked down at your hands, suddenly wishing you hadn’t said anything at all. It wasn’t like you could reveal the real reason you’d been hooking up with Eddie.

“Let me get this straight, you’re getting him off but he doesn’t want to be your boyfriend or tell anyone?” He smiled with thinly veiled pity. “Sweetie, he’s just using you.”

“No, he wouldn’t do that.” Your voice was indignant despite the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. When Dylan said it out loud, it made what you and Eddie had been doing sound so cheap.

“Has he ever taken you on an actual date, like to the movies or out to dinner?” He smirked when you answered with a shake of your head.

“Bet he’s seeing other people too?” He tapped his chin as if deep in thought. “You know, now that you mention it, I could’ve sworn I saw him flirting with a sweet little thing at the bar just the other night.”

He tutted as you lowered your head. “Nothing means anything to trash like him. I’m not surprised to hear Munson doesn’t know how to treat a lady.”

When you looked up with tear-rimmed eyes, he leaned in close over the table.

“Look, I can treat you the way you deserve. Take you nice places, anywhere, you name it. Every girl in Hawkins will wish they were you.”

As you listened to Dylan’s promises, you felt powerless and small. It was almost as if you’d been transported back to Hawkins High in an instant.

Gone was the confident persona you had worked so hard to achieve, replaced with the lonely, unpopular girl who’d wanted nothing more than to win Dylan’s attention.

You’d never felt good enough for him back then, but now you had what you’d always wanted — Dylan Daniels was sitting across from you practically begging you to be his girlfriend.

He was right, Eddie was never going to want any of those things with you. He was just looking to have fun with no consequences — his own words. You’d seen the box of condoms in his bedroom. He was out with someone else at that very minute. What exactly were you waiting for?

“Would we be exclusive?” you asked quietly, still considering Dylan’s offer.

His smile faltered for a second. “I mean, yeah, I’m willing to give it a try.”

“A try?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“If it’s important to you, then yes, I’ll do my very best.” He winked, then reached out to grasp your hand. “What do you say? Mom’s making her famous meatloaf for Sunday dinner and I’d love to introduce you to everyone.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile as you reached with your free hand to grab your glass of wine.

“I’m going to have think about it.”

.・。.・・.・・。.

After dinner Dylan drove you home and when he pulled up outside your house, he didn’t move to get out of the car right away.

Your stomach lurched when he leaned over the console and reached out to cup your cheek. When he kissed you, all you could focus on was how dry and unpleasantly firm his lips felt against yours.

After a few moments you felt overwhelmed and gently pushed him away. He appeared put out, huffing as he slouched back in the driver’s seat.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, it’s me,” you lied. “I’m not feeling very well. I think maybe I should go inside and lie down.”

He hesitated a moment before he got out of the car and walked around to open your door.

When you reached your front step, he leaned in and gave you a quick peck on the cheek. “Get well soon, ok? I’d really love for you to come tomorrow night.”

All you could manage was a weak smile as you opened your front door. “Thanks, I’ll call you if I’m feeling better.”

From inside his van parked further down the road, Eddie watched Dylan help you get out of his car. Even from a distance you looked so beautiful under the glow of the streetlights that his breath caught momentarily in his chest.

When he saw Dylan lean in to kiss you, his hands gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles started to ache.

Eddie had been in agony all night.

Finding something to occupy his time had proven next to impossible; nothing kept the thoughts of you being with Dylan off his mind. He’d eventually given up and decided to wait for you to get home, parking far enough away that you wouldn’t spot his van.

Yeah, it was pathetic — he was aware of that, but what else was he supposed to do? He needed to see you and be sure you made it home okay.

He knew he shouldn’t have told you he had a date, but the lie had just thoughtlessly rolled off his tongue. After spending the night with you, hearing you talk about your plans with Dylan had done a number on his brain.

When he saw Dylan’s taillights fade into the distance, he tossed his cigarette butt out the window then drove a bit closer to pull his van up outside your house.

As he approached your basement window, the light from your bedroom spilled a warm glow onto the darkened ground outside.

He planned to knock, but paused when he caught sight of you unzipping your dress — a cute little number that he’d never seen before. As the material slid down and off your body, it revealed a lingerie set that made all of his blood rush to his cock.

Sheer scalloped lace, adorned with garters and tiny silk bows. Fuck.

His heart raced, fired with resentment, knowing you had worn that just for Dylan. That Dylan’s undeserving eyes had been graced with that vision. That his unworthy hands might have touched your skin.

Blinded by jealousy, he rapped on the glass and you jumped, startled by the unexpected sound. He watched you grab your bathrobe and wrap it around yourself before gesturing for him to come in.

You seemed flustered by his presence. “Eddie, were you watching me? Why are you here, I thought you had a date?”

He stood there, silently ignoring your questions, chest heaving as he stared at you.

You pulled your robe around you a bit tighter, studying the strange look on his face. “Eddie, what’s going on?”

“Nothing. How was your date?” He struggled to sound casual through gritted teeth. “Bet the conversation was positively stimulating.”

His sarcastic words made your temper flare.

He had a lot of nerve showing up to your house and being rude about your date after he’d just been out with someone else.

“It was great,” you lied, narrowing your eyes. “How was yours? Must have gone really well if you’re showing up here.”

“It was amazing,” he taunted, then he took a step forward and you didn’t move away. Before you knew what was happening, his lips were on yours — kisses burning hot as the envy in his chest.

He walked you backward to the bed, hands working to hastily untie your robe.

“Yeah?” you asked breathlessly as he kissed a searing path down your neck. “You have lots of fun?”

“Oh, yeah,” he rasped against your skin. “Practice is really paying off.”

“Same here,” your voice faltered as he pulled open the front of your robe to reveal the delicate bra that was perfectly framing your breasts. You looked up into his eyes, dark and heavy-lidded as he drank in the sight.

“Did you wear this for him?” His voice was gruff as he reached out to stroke the lace.

“Yes,” you said defiantly, not missing the twitch of his mouth or the resulting harsh intake of breath.

He let a finger travel down between your breasts, then lower until it reached the edge of your panties.

“D-did he touch you?” his voice wavered as he stared into your eyes.

When you didn’t answer, he dipped his hand under the band and you sighed as his fingertips teased over your clit. Even though you knew it was cruel to keep him guessing, you didn’t answer right away. You liked egging him on.

It felt good to see how much he wanted you in the moment — to know that even though he’d been out with someone else he’d still come home to you. Even if it wasn’t real.

He brought two fingers to your entrance and circled them tortuously slow as he watched your face.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

A swipe of his thumb over your clit coaxed a soft whimper. “N-no, he didn’t.”

At your admission, he let out a sigh of relief and finally pressed his fingers inside, curling them just the way he knew you liked.

“—yes , please…right there,” you urged as he brushed his digits against the spot that already had you seeing stars.

“No one else can make you feel this good, huh?” His lips were curled in a cocky grin as he watched you start to come undone with just the touch of his hand.

“—just a little bit more to…the left…” you gasped.

He followed your direction and was rewarded with a moan that sounded like it came from the bottom of your toes.

He brought his mouth close to your ear. “Is this pussy mine? Does it belong to me?”

You felt a sudden thrill course through you at his words — he’d never said anything so possessive before.

For a second, it almost felt real.

“…a-all yours,” you relented as your orgasm took hold, and he gently worked you through it, pressing kisses to your neck as you held onto him and sighed.

Soon his tongue traced a heated pattern on your skin as his kisses moved lower, the guitar pick dangling around his neck eventually tickling your thighs as he hovered over you.

“Gonna cum for me again?” he mumbled. The way his breath fanned over your center made you shiver despite its warmth.

You gave an affirmative hum and grabbed onto his hair to urge him where you needed him the most — after being so rude to you earlier, it was the least he could do.

.・。.・・.・・。.

“So, do you think you’ll see her again? Your date?” You looked over at Eddie where he was as lying next to you in bed, desperately wanting him to assure you that he planned to do no such thing.

He furrowed his brow at the ceiling as if deep in thought. “Nah, don’t really see myself getting serious with anyone right now. Lots of fish in the sea, right?”

His answer wasn’t quite what you’d wanted to hear, but you attempted to seem unbothered. Maybe he just needed a little more motivation to get the hint.

“Dylan asked me to be his girlfriend at dinner.”

Eddie’s head snapped in your direction, eyebrows raised in surprise. “He did?”

You nodded. “I told him I wasn’t sure and that I’d have to think about it.”

Eddie’s mind reeled at the news.

It was the moment when he should have come clean and confessed everything in his heart — his chance to fight for you and finally tell you how he felt.

Instead, he froze. “Is that what you want?”

You sighed. “I don’t know. It’s so confusing. Dinner didn’t go all that well, but I keep thinking maybe I should give him a chance? It’s not like I have a lot of other options, right?”

You looked up at him through your lashes, hoping he would say you were wrong. That you shouldn’t be with Dylan. That he wanted you for his own.

That you were his.

But Eddie didn’t know what to say. The fact that you were considering a relationship with Dylan was like a knife through his jaded heart. He felt so stupid for ever having hoped you might finally see him as more than just practice for someone better.

“Right.”

His answer stung, but you pressed on. “If things get serious with him, then I guess what you and I are doing will have to end…”

You stared at Eddie, wanting so badly for him to say anything at all to show you he cared.

Instead, he shrugged and looked away. “Yeah sure, no sweat. If that’s what you want.”

You tried to swallow the hurt that burned your eyes and tightened your chest. Feeling exposed, you gathered your robe to cover yourself. “I think maybe you should go. We probably shouldn’t be here like this…not anymore.”

Eddie nodded, then silently got up from the bed and started to gather his things.

If you had known how long it would be before you saw him again, you would have stopped him from crawling out the window. But instead, you watched him leave, discretely wiping at your eyes so he wouldn’t see your tears.

Dylan had been right. Eddie liked having fun with you, but he was never going to want anything more. Dylan wasn’t perfect but at least he was willing to take things to the next level, and after wanting him for so long you owed it to yourself to see how it might go.

Once Eddie was gone, you called Dylan and told him you’d be happy to join his family for dinner.

After you hung up, you wiped away your tears, then walked over to your mirror and stared at your miserable reflection. You finally had the boyfriend everyone wanted — the most popular guy in town.

You should have been the happiest girl in all of Hawkins.

Dylan hadn’t been exaggerating — being his girlfriend opened up a whole new world for you. Suddenly you were invited to all the best parties and people treated you much better than before.

After years of being the outcast nobody wanted, you were finally welcomed with open arms into the popular crowd that you had idolized back in high school.

But something didn’t feel quite right.

To an outsider it probably would’ve looked like you were having the time of your life, but in reality you were just going through the motions. With your fancy clothing and perfect makeup you looked better than ever before, but without Eddie by your side you felt adrift in Dylan’s world.

It was like you could never be good enough for Dylan; he was critical of everything you said and did, always with little biting comments about how you looked or what you were wearing.

Even if you spent hours on your appearance he could always pick out some little flaw; if you got upset about it, he told you he was doing it for your own good. He reasoned that you needed to be perfect because you represented him and his business. He was running a company and had a certain reputation to uphold.

You tried your best to make him happy, turning yourself inside out to be the ideal girlfriend. Still, you felt like a constant disappointment in his eyes.

Months went by and you hardly ever saw Eddie, other than the rare occasion when you crossed paths in town, and usually only from afar — Dylan didn’t like the idea of you hanging out together, with your history and all. He could be a bit possessive and to prevent the inevitable fight that would ensue, you avoided Eddie to try and respect Dylan’s wishes.

That didn’t stop the ache in your chest whenever you caught a glimpse of Eddie’s unruly curls or spotted his denim battle vest from a distance. And it didn’t stop your heart from racing when you heard a noise in the street that sounded like the familiar rumble of his van.

One day you overheard his voice in the mall when he accompanied his younger friends past your store on their way to the arcade, and you had to lock yourself in the staff washroom for ten whole minutes until the tears finally subsided.

Otherwise, you were fine. Dylan wasn’t perfect, but you supposed that was what it was like dating any young man who was used to always getting his way. You’d never had a serious boyfriend before, so you had no basis for comparison.

You figured you’d get used to it.

Your sex life with Dylan left a lot to be desired. He was selfish in bed and only ever concerned with his own pleasure. You wondered if it was because he’d always been seen as desirable and never felt the need to bother trying to be good or generous to his partners.

Over time you became more and more frustrated because you hadn’t managed to have an orgasm since you ended your practice with Eddie.

After weeks of suffering in silence you’d finally worked up the courage to ask for what you wanted.

“Dylan, I really like it when a guy goes down on me. Can you try that?”

He had looked at you with disgust. Turned out he didn’t like performing oral sex because he found it, in his words, “kind of gross”.

“It’s not personal,” he’d assured you, “I don’t enjoy doing it with anyone.”

You had frowned. Oddly enough, he didn’t seem to have any problem with receiving.

Losing your virginity to him had been another disappointing experience. Afterwards you’d wondered why everyone had made sex out to be such a big deal. You’d barely felt a thing.

In an effort to improve things, you even turned to your trusty magazines to try and find ideas of new things to try in bed. But Dylan dismissed your suggestions at every turn.

You started to feel trapped.

You couldn’t even get yourself off — every single time you got close, a wild head of curls would appear in your fantasy and the resulting twist of your stomach would instantly kill the mood.

On those nights you’d end up unsatisfied, slamming your fists against the mattress in frustration. You weren’t sure how much more you could take.

It didn’t help that Dylan had been working long hours while he transitioned to the leadership role in his family’s company, so you ended up spending a lot of time alone.

On those nights your thoughts would drift to Eddie — even though you were still hurt by the way things had played out, you found your sadness had faded with time and been replaced with a yearning for the way things used to be.

Still, you didn’t dare call him, not only because it would have upset Dylan, but because you couldn’t bear the thought of hearing he was with someone else. You didn’t think your heart could take it.

One day when you were on your way to an appointment downtown, you ran into Eddie’s band mate Jeff outside the library. You didn’t have long to chat, but he told you some exciting news about their band. Corroded Coffin had landed a last-minute replacement opening gig for a heavy metal festival that was touring the mid-west that summer and they were going to be leaving the following day.

After hugging him goodbye, you continued on your way but found you couldn’t think of anything else. It was so strange to think of Eddie leaving town, and even harder to believe you hadn’t known.

As the hours wore on, you became more and more upset at the thought of Eddie leaving before you had a chance to see him. Even though you were still hurt, you didn’t want to leave things the way they were.

Finally you decided to swallow your pride and go see him that night after dinner. When you arrived at his trailer, you were relieved to see his van was the only vehicle parked outside.

When he opened his front door and saw you standing there, he looked surprised but quickly recovered, giving you the same goofy smile that had always pulled at the strings of your heart.

“You want to come in?”

It had been so long since you’d been in his trailer, you felt a rush of emotion when you stepped through the front door and into the familiar surroundings that had once been like a second home.

He watched as you looked around, fidgeting with the rings on his hand, confused as to why you were there. “What’s up?”

You swallowed hard. “I saw Jeff and he said you guys are leaving town? I just wanted to come say goodbye.”

You had promised yourself you wouldn’t cry, but you could already feel the telltale sting in your chest.

He nodded. “Yeah, we leave tomorrow. It’s only a couple months, but it should be pretty cool.”

“Oh, only a couple months? I thought maybe longer.” You were relieved at the news.

“Nah, you’re not getting rid of me that easy.” He smiled then looked down at his feet, his grin fading as awkwardness started to take hold. It seemed so natural for the two of you to joke around that for a second he’d almost forgotten so much had changed.

He pointed down the hall. “I’m still packing. You wanna come to my room?”

You nodded, then followed him down the narrow hallway.

Once you got to his room, you sat down and he busied himself by grabbing a pile of clothes and throwing it next to you on the bed. “So how are things going with you and Dylan? You happy?”

Your pulse quickened and you started to play with the buttons of your shirt. “Um, yeah. Very happy.”

He looked up at you briefly, brows knitted, then went back to haphazardly piling clothes into his bag.

“So how’s it feel? You guys are about to become famous,” you said with as much enthusiasm as you could muster.

He looked over at you and grinned. “Nah, it’s not much, but we’ll get a chance to play in front of some bigger crowds and the money’s pretty decent.”

“No, that’s great. Maybe you’ll make some good connections.” You looked down at your hands. “At least you’ll finally have all those groupies you always wanted.”

He smiled and shook his head as he turned to back to his luggage. “Yeah, I don’t know about that.”

You stole a glance at his nightstand and saw that the box of condoms was gone, likely tucked away in his suitcase in preparation for fun on the road. Then you remembered it had been months since you’d first saw them and chances were they were already gone.

At least someone was having fun.

You stood up, your legs feeling unsteady beneath you. “I’d better go and let you finish getting ready.”

Eddie nodded and walked over to you, so close you could see his long eyelashes reflecting the light.

In that moment it would have been so easy to lean in the few short inches and press your lips to his, and feel their pillowy softness one last time.

Instead, he pulled you into a hug and you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head against him, breathing in the scent of his cologne.

“Don’t forget about me when you’re famous and drowning in groupies,” you joked.

You felt a laugh rumble in his chest. “C’mon, I could never forget about you.”

After a little while you reluctantly pulled back. “Call me, ok? When you’re not too busy.”

Then you gave him a little wink to show how completely unbothered you were.

“I will.” He promised, his face serious.

Your eyes began to burn so you quickly turned around so he wouldn’t see you cry. As you walked out his bedroom door, you turned your head back over your shoulder.

“Goodbye, Eddie.”

When he heard the front door of the trailer click shut, Eddie sat down on his bed with a heavy sigh and raked a hand through his hair.

A break from Hawkins was going to be a good thing.

Even though he’d been dying to get the hell out of Hawkins for as long as he could remember, Eddie still found himself feeling a bit homesick at times on the road.

He kept his promise and called you as often as he could, whenever time and location allowed. To him, your voice felt like a little piece of home.

You’d fill him in on your days, sometimes needing to speak loudly to be heard over the wild partying in the background.

You always kept the conversation light and didn’t bother him with your problems. A small part of you didn’t want Eddie to know things weren’t going well in your relationship. It would have felt like admitting you were failure while he was out living the high life and having fun.

Sometimes you’d hear female voices in the background and it would make your stomach turn, even though you knew you had no right to be jealous. You couldn’t help but be bitter that Eddie was probably sleeping around with anything that moved. Meanwhile, things hadn’t improved for you and Dylan in the bedroom.

One night you had been so desperate for a release that you’d decided to go Family Video and rent a sexy video as a last resort. You knew Eddie had those kind of tapes hidden in his bedroom, so you figured if it was good enough for him, you may as well give it a try.

When you had arrived, you’d been relieved to see that Robin was the only staff on duty. It was silly, but you knew Steve and Eddie were friendly and you hadn’t wanted word to get back to him — it would only lead to questions.

When you’d walked behind the curtain of the Adult Only area you had been nervous and overwhelmed by the variety of tapes on display. You’d quickly chosen one that featured an actor with long hair and a bad boy, rock and roll style — for no particular reason. You had just liked how he looked on the cover.

That night you had watched with bated breath as that long-haired actor rocked a bevy of beauties’ worlds. When you’d squinted your eyes you could almost pretend he looked like someone else. You’d touched yourself, eyes glued to his lithe, tattooed body and let the intense wave of desire wash over you. To your relief, you finally achieved your goal.

You had felt like crying the next day when you’d returned the video in the slot outside Family Video. You had almost forgotten what you were missing, and you knew you needed more.

A few nights later, after another unsuccessful attempt to pleasure yourself, you had fallen asleep frustrated only to be woken by the phone ringing in the dark.

“Hello?” Your voice was still thick with the remnants of sleep and you squinted at your alarm clock. It was almost three o’clock in the morning.

“Hey. You awake?” It was Eddie.

“I am now.” You yawned. “It’s the middle of the night. Are you ok?”

“Yeah I’m good…” he trailed off. “Only one more week till we get home. Miss everyone so much and…I miss—”

His voice broke, its usual edges softened by the faint slurring of his words.

“Have you been drinking?” You furrowed your brow in concern. He sounded different. Far away.

“Yeah, just a little after the show. Nothin’ crazy,” he assured you, shifting his tone lower, almost to a whisper. “So, what’re you wearing?”

“Eddie, come on.” You twisted the phone cord in your hand.

“S’just a question. Is it that Metallica shirt you stole? You know, I noticed it was gone when I was packing.”

You grinned despite yourself. “No, I’m in bed. I’m wearing my nightie.”

“Hmm…the little silky one?” You could practically hear his smile through the phone. “I remember that one really well—“

Then you heard his breath stutter for a moment, almost as if —

“You wanna know what I’d do right now, if I was there?”

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

“No. Why don’t you go tell one of your groupies? I’m going to go back to sleep,” you threatened, despite having no intention of hanging up the phone.

“Wait, no, please,” he begged, sounding desperate. “Don’t go. I need you — need you so fuckin’ bad.”

“Eddie…” you trailed off, losing your footing at the shift in the conversation. “You don’t mean that.”

Your heart started to race but you reminded yourself that his words didn’t mean anything. He was just drunk and horny, in a few hours he would probably have forgotten he’d even called.

“Oh, but I do.” His voice was a low, sexy rasp that you felt all the way to your core.

Then you heard what sounded like a rustling in the background before he let out a shaky sigh.

“Eddie, are you—what are you doing?”

“Your voice is so fuckin’ pretty. Miss all those sounds you used to make for me.”

You sat up slightly. “W-we can’t talk like this. I have a boyfriend in case you’ve forgotten.”

He chuckled under his breath. “Yeah? Does he make you feel as good as I can? Tell me the truth.”

Your lack of a response was the only answer Eddie needed. He pushed his boxers down far enough to get a firm grip on his cock and gave himself a few teasing strokes.

“Pussy’s always so wet for me. Wish I could taste you right now — I’d make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

You felt a sudden jolt of excitement course through you. His deep voice made the throbbing ache between your thighs grow even stronger and without thinking you brought your fingers down to circle your clit over your underwear.

Something inside of you was slowly starting to unfurl, a feeling you’d thought was dead and gone. You traced your fingers over the top of your panties, willfully ignoring the tiny pang of guilt that was surprisingly easy to push away.

Eddie heard you let out a sigh and his voice got a little cocky.

“Hmm…what’s that? You touching yourself, sweetheart?”

He pictured how you would look, lying on your bed with your hand moving under your pretty lace panties. He groaned, imagining the arousal coating your fingers, wanting to see it for himself.

“Wish I could be there…do it myself. I’d take such good care of you.”

As you touched yourself you could feel your pleasure increasing to a rapidly growing swell. It was the closest you’d come to achieving an orgasm on your own in months. It turned out you didn’t need to embarrass yourself by secretly renting dirty movies from Family Video — Eddie’s voice was all you needed.

You were suddenly desperate to keep him talking.

“You still there?” he asked after a pause on your end.

“Yes — just…keep talking…please,” you begged. Then you grimaced and clenched your eyes shut, mortified at how pathetic you sounded.

“Mmm…does it make your pussy wet? When I talk?”

You inhaled sharply as your pleasure continued to build. “N-no, it doesn’t. Why don’t you tell me about your last show?”

He spit on his hand to aid the glide of his palm, then squeezed himself. “You know, I dream about your pussy all the time. Wanna fuck you so bad. Have that tight little cunt just squeezin’ round my cock—”

You let out a whimper and he answered it with a groan.

“You gonna rub that pretty little pussy till you cum for me? I wanna hear you.”

“No,” you sighed, letting the warm rumble of his voice roll over you as you brought yourself closer to your release.

Your breath was coming out fast and heavy and you could hear Eddie panting on the other end of the line. Then without warning, he let out the same low, throaty whine that he used to make when you’d pull on his hair, and that was all it took to tip you over the edge.

You released a broken moan and his voice dropped. “That’s it cum for me please, baby. I need to fuckin’ hear it.”

“…I-I’m not—cumming,” you breathed into his ear as you finally surrendered, throwing your head back against your pillows and nearly dropping the phone.

You heard him let out a sharp curse, then everything went quiet for a few minutes as you both struggled to catch your breath.

Suddenly you wanted to be in his arms so badly that it nearly drove you to tears, but you reminded yourself that you couldn’t.

You belonged to someone else.

You weren’t his.

His voice was still a little slurred and it cracked with emotion. “I miss you so fuckin’ much.”

You shut your eyes to prevent the tears that desperately wanted to fall.

“Eddie, I— I can’t do this. I have to go.”

Then with the click of the line you were suddenly gone and Eddie was left in his empty hotel room, somehow feeling even more alone than before.

After hanging up the phone you were overwhelmed by a wave of shame and guilt, so intense you couldn’t fall back to sleep.

You told yourself that it wasn’t your fault — that you’d been denied pleasure for too long. That you hadn’t meant for any of it to happen.

You were pretty sure Dylan was unfaithful. Even though he was good at covering his tracks, you’d found evidence of his cheating plenty of times over the past few months. Why were you the one who had to deny themselves while he was out there having fun with whatever warm body he could find?

Despite that, the next morning you still felt so guilty you came to a decision — you were going to tell Dylan you wanted to break things off. It was only right.

You called him at his office and asked him to meet you later that evening at Enzo’s for dinner. You told him you’d take your own car since he was busy, and he’d sounded surprised but agreed to your request.

That evening you spent a long time on your outfit and makeup to make sure you looked perfect. You were nervous and for some reason it made you feel better to know you would look your best.

When you announced you wanted to end things over dinner, Dylan didn’t take it well.

“What do you mean it isn’t working?” he snarled at you from his seat across the table.

“I just don’t think we’re right for each other,” you said quietly, not wanting to make a scene. The way he was looking at you was making you nervous and you started to stumble over your words. “I-I talked to Eddie last night and it made me realize—”

“Listen,” he cut you off, abruptly pushing his chair back from the table. “I know I’ve probably seemed a bit distracted lately because I’ve been so busy with work, but I’m serious about us. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a little velvet box. “I was going to wait a while longer to do this, but I guess now is the perfect time.”

He got down on his knee in the middle of the restaurant and everyone around you paused their conversations to watch. Your eyes widened in panic, your mind barely able to register what was happening.

“As you know, I’m going to be leading a family company. My father thinks it’s important for us to present that image — so what do you say? Want to make it official?”

You stared at the ring clasped his hand, an obnoxiously large diamond that wasn’t even remotely your style.

Then you looked into his eyes.

“Dylan, do you love me?”

He scoffed as if you were being ridiculous. “Of course I do, and I know you’ll make the perfect wife.”

You could see people whispering in the background and you wanted to sink into the floor.

“The ring is beautiful, really, but it’s only been a few months—”

“We can have a long engagement,” he promised, darting a sideways glance at the room full of curious, staring eyes. His forced smile started to look uncomfortable. “We can take as long as you like.”

You chewed on your bottom lip. As you hesitated, you heard him mutter under his breath, “We can talk about it later…don’t embarrass me.”

Then he recovered his smile and spoke a bit louder, “Come on, don’t you want to make me the happiest man on Earth?”

“Ok, I guess?” you sighed, not knowing what else to do.

He slipped the ring onto your finger and you stared down at it like he’d just slapped a pair of handcuffs on your wrist. Everyone at the surrounding tables started to clap and Dylan smiled up at them like he’d just won a prize.

“She said, yes!”

He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek when he stood up. “I’m going to run to the payphone to call my parents and tell them the good news. I’m sure as soon as you get home you’ll want to brag to all your friends.”

You gave him a weak smile. Friends. The only person who came to mind was hundreds of miles away and you very much doubted he’d be excited when he heard the news.

On Eddie’s first day back in Hawkins, he did the three things he’d been thinking about the entire time he’d been away on the road.

First, he gave Wayne a big hug and presented him with the new hat and mug he’d bought him during his travels. Next, he phoned his friend Dustin and told him to arrange a special meeting of the Hellfire Club for that coming Friday night. Then lastly, but most importantly, he called you to see if you were free to meet up at your favorite diner.

Other than the quick call to make plans that evening, you hadn’t spoken to each other since the night of his drunken phone call, so Eddie was a bit nervous as he approached the entrance.

When he walked inside and saw you waiting for him in your usual booth, all of his anxiety melted away in an instant and he smiled to himself. You looked so beautiful.

The time away on the road had given him a new perspective on the things that really mattered. He had decided it was time to finally let you know how he felt.

He was going to confess everything and lay it all out on the line. Even though he’d come to terms with the fact that you were with Dylan, it didn’t change anything — he still loved you and he needed you to know.

He slid into the booth across from you, wearing a wide smile that instantly faded as soon as he glanced down at where you were fidgeting with the slender gold band on your finger.

A pained realization dawned on his face before his eyes snapped up to meet yours. “What the hell is that?”

He knew exactly what it was.

You looked down, focusing on the glint of the diamond to avoid meeting his eyes. It was the moment you had been dreading and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at his face.

“Dylan asked me to marry him last week. We’re engaged,” you practically choked, grabbing your glass of water and taking a drink to clear your throat.

“Y-you’re what?” he sputtered in disbelief. “It’s only been what…four, five months? You can’t be serious.”

“I know it’s fast but Dylan was up for a big promotion and he thought—”

“So you got engaged so he could get a better job?” Eddie shook his head with a bitter laugh.

“No, it’s not like that.” You kept your eyes on the table, wishing you could be anywhere but there.

“Then what’s it like?” he challenged, jutting his chin. “Enlighten me.”

You looked up. “I-it’s complicated. He asked me after that night on the phone, and I felt guilty—”

He gestured with his hand as if to stop you.

“Do you really want to marry him?” His voice strained with emotion, but his eyes never left yours.

When you didn’t say anything right away, he stood up and tossed enough cash onto the table to cover your bill.

“I’ve gotta get out of here. Have a nice wedding, ok?”

You stood up as he bolted from the booth. You had imagined Eddie would give you a hard time, but the intensity of his anger was more than you’d expected.

“Eddie, wait!” You followed him out onto the sidewalk. “Will you just hang on for a second?”

He paused, only half-turning to look back. When you got close enough, you reached out to grab him by the shoulder to make him face you.

His body felt tense as a wire under your hand, hard and unyielding. So unlike all the other times you’d touched him before.

“Eddie, why are you so mad at me? You’re not being fair.”

He scoffed. “You thought you could just tell me that and I wouldn’t — fuck, come on.”

He kicked at the sidewalk in frustration, scuffing his sneaker on the pavement.

You stood your ground.

“I know you don’t like Dylan, but you can’t be mad at me for being with him. You’re with all those other girls. Why can’t I have someone of my own?”

A few passersby turned their heads at the commotion and you thought of word getting back to Dylan about you and Eddie having an argument out in the street. Dylan was working late, but news still traveled fast in Hawkins.

“Can we go somewhere more private? Like your van?” you pleaded.

Eddie nodded and gestured for you to follow him to where he’d parked. “Get in. We can go for a drive.”

You sat in silence for the first couple blocks, both of you at a loss for what to say. Then suddenly you surprised him by reaching over and urgently tapping on his arm.

“Pull over. Now.”

Your voice was a sharp command and he obeyed, veering off to the right and pulling his van up to the curb.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he called out, but before he could even finish his question you were already gone, marching down the street.

Dylan had told you he was busy working that evening, so imagine your surprise when you’d spied him walking down the sidewalk with his arm wrapped around the waist of another girl. Even though you’d only spotted him from behind, you knew it was him without question. Nobody else in Hawkins filled out a pair of acid wash jeans that well.

You followed him and his companion for half a block until you finally caught up to them. As you got closer you realized the girl looked just like Stacy.

Oh, that was rich.

“Dylan, is that you?” you called out to his back as he pressed a kiss to Stacy’s cheek. “I thought you had to work tonight?”

He sheepishly turned around to face you as you worked the engagement ring off your finger.

“Here, this is yours.” You tossed it at his chest.

As Dylan fumbled to catch it before it fell to the pavement, you looked over at Stacy standing awkwardly at his side. You gave her the brightest smile you could manage.

“Good luck with him.”

Then you turned to walk back to Eddie’s van, making sure to take your time so you didn’t appear upset.

“Are you ok?” Eddie asked as you climbed inside and calmly fastened your seat belt.

You looked over at him and gave him a relieved grin, feeling lighter than you had in a very long time.

“Can you take me to your trailer now, please?”

Without another word, Eddie threw the van in gear and you reached out to turn up the stereo. Then you leaned back against the headrest with a sigh, letting the familiar rhythm of the heavy metal wash over you.

When you got to the trailer, Eddie led you to the living room and sat down next to you on the couch. He looked over at you, eyes heavy with concern.

“Listen, back there with Dylan—are you ok?”

You smiled. “Honestly, I’m relieved. I’ve been wanting to break things off with him for a while and I guess this made it easy.”

He looked at you, completely confused. “But if you were so unhappy, why did you stay with him? Why did you get engaged?”

You bit your lip as you pondered an answer, then decided to tell him the truth. “I guess I didn’t want to admit that I’d made a mistake. I wanted to be with you, but you were with all those other girls—”

He lowered his eyes. “Nah, that’s where you’re wrong. It’s only ever been you.”

At his admission your heart leapt, but you didn’t dare hope it could be true. “Eddie, what are you saying?”

He inhaled a deep breath. “There’s never been anyone else. Ever. I’m in love with you.”

“Y-you don’t have to say that—“

“No, I’m serious.” He reached for your hand. “You were always the only one. I made it all up.”

“Why would you do that?” You stared at him in shock. “I don't understand.”

He shrugged. “You were always so obsessed with Dylan. I guess I was jealous? It’s stupid, but I thought maybe if you thought someone else wanted me, it would make you want me too.”

“But what about on tour? You can’t tell me you didn’t fuck a bunch of groupies.” You narrowed your eyes accusingly.

He laughed. “Nah, see I had this girl at home that I thought about every night. Didn’t need any of them.”

“Eddie, how many girls have you slept with?” You eyed him carefully.

He squinted as if he was counting. “Like ever? Um, well…I guess…none.”

When you looked at him, his eyes were soft and vulnerable and you could see that he was telling the truth.

“B-but the condoms…Stacy, the girl at the music store, your date…” you trailed off as he shook his head. “How’s that possible?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. I just kept waiting for you to get over Dylan. Kinda hard to sleep with anyone when you’re thinking about somebody else.”

“Tell me about it,” you sighed, suddenly overwhelmed with regret. “All this time — I didn’t know…”

“It’s ok.” He shuffled closer on the couch and stroked your hand with his thumb. “Now we can do it for the first time together.”

Your stomach sank in an instant.

“Eddie…I can’t. I’m sorry.”

His voice wavered. “Y-you already have? With him?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, your mouth twisted in distaste. “Trust me, I really wish I hadn’t.”

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, then you suddenly looked up at him with a smile. “Wait, you know what? This is actually perfect. Now there’s finally something I can teach you.”

He looked down to where your fingers had started to unbutton your shirt, then back up to your face. “What’re you doing?”

“Eddie, I’m going to fuck you now. Is that ok?”

He nodded as if in a daze. Without another word, you grabbed his hand to lead him to his bedroom.

As soon as you crossed the threshold, you undressed each other in a race of arms and legs. Then you fell into his arms — hungry, devouring each other like you’d been starving for years.

“Need to taste you again,” he panted, kissing down your body until he reached the tops of your thighs, spreading them apart and letting out a groan at the sight of your glistening cunt.

You giggled when his lips brushed against your inner thighs, then you ran your hands through his hair as he brought his mouth to hover over your center.

“Baby, I’ve been dreaming about this pussy for so fucking long.”

You threw your head back against the pillows and sighed at the first contact of his mouth, the warm velvet of his tongue that you had been dreaming of for so long.

You grabbed onto his curls, grinding your ass against the bed as he tightly gripped onto your thighs — it was rougher than he’d ever handled you before, and you liked it. His fingertips dug into your flesh, lips wrapped around your clit in desperation to make you cum.

It was like he was possessed.

You answered every flick of his tongue with another grind against his face and soon you could feel your pleasure building to a peak. You cried out as you came, pulling gently on his hair as he moaned against the flood of your taste on his tongue.

It felt like the room was spinning for a few minutes as you came down from your high. You had almost forgotten what it was like to cum that hard.

When he pulled away, his warm eyes gazed down at you with naked affection. Then he flopped onto his back and you looked down at his cock, proud and firm and bobbing so deliciously above his lower stomach.

You loved seeing him again, thick and hard and already leaking for you. Humming with satisfaction, you ran a hand down his chest, then lower, finally wrapping your hand around his shaft.

You gave him a few strokes, then climbed into his lap and shimmied up his body so that you were straddling his waist.

“You gonna let me ride you, Eddie?” You lowered your voice in the same sultry way the girls had used in the porno you’d rented. You’d never tried dirty talk before but with Eddie you felt confident enough to explore your naughty side.

“Or do you want to be in charge? Have your way with me?” You ran a hand down his pale chest, stopping just above his navel. “It can be whatever you want. Tonight’s all about you.”

He looked up at you, gaze hungry. Desperate. Eyes heavy as they drank you in.

“Fuck—I want you to ride me.” His voice was a thick, broken plea and you widened your eyes in a feint of shyness, fluttering your lashes.

“Yeah, you want me to ride you?”

He nodded, dark eyes never leaving yours, chest heaving with each breath.

You reached behind your back to stroke him a few times then raised yourself up, using your knees for leverage to sink down on him slowly, watching his face enraptured in bliss as your warm heat engulfed him for the very first time.

You gasped, breath stolen by the slight burn of the stretch. You felt so very full — it was almost overwhelming. He was so much bigger than Dylan.

“Mmm— fuck, Eddie. You feel so good,” you purred as he filled you until he was fully seated. “I just—I need a second.”

You shifted in place, pushing yourself to move. “You know, I thought about this a lot when you were gone. Having your big cock inside me. Filling me up.”

When he groaned in response, you leaned down to whisper next to his ear, “I always wished it was you.”

Then you sat up straight and gave a rock of your hips and his eyes widened at the sensation, licking his bottom lip as you started to move.

“H-holy shit.” He gritted his teeth in an effort to bite back a moan. You looked so good and felt so warm and tight around him that he could already feel his cock throbbing in warning.

“This position will probably feel better for me than you, or at least that’s what I hear.” You giggled as you gave another slow thrust of your hips.

“Uhhh I dunno, this feels pretty fuckin’ good to me,” he rasped, groaning under his breath as he grabbed onto the fleshy fat of your thighs.

After a few seconds his firm grip stilled your movement.

“Hold on. Hold on,” he gasped. “It — fuck. Feels… too fuckin’ good.”

You giggled and started to grind on him again, making sure your tits bounced a little with each roll of your hips. “Hmm that’s ok, I want you to cum for me, Eddie.”

You rested your hands behind you on his muscular thighs and gave a few slow bounces as he moaned. He held onto your hips, gasping, thrusting up into you as if he couldn’t help it.

“Can you do that for me, Eddie? Can you cum for me?”

He whimpered as you started to move faster, riding him hard with each slick bounce. He held onto you for dear life, staring up in awe as you moved atop him like a perfect goddess.

“Oh—oh fuck,” he stammered, holding onto you tighter as his eyes rolled back into his head. Fuzzy flyaway curls framed his pink cheeks as you smiled down at the sight of him ruined beneath you.

“I’m gonna—oh fuck.”

He threw his head back with a throaty growl as his hips stuttered and jerked up off the bed, filling you with ropes of his warm release.

You looked down at his blissed-out face in satisfaction then leaned to press a kiss to his sweat-glistened brow, relishing in the feeling of him still inside you. After a little while you crawled off and turned onto your side to lie facing him on the bed.

“I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes, panting as he struggled to catch his breath. “It just felt too fuckin’ too good. I couldn’t help it.”

You sighed in contentment and let your fingers toy with his necklace, then leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“That’s ok, we have all night. I’ve been doing lots of reading since we’ve been apart and there are lots of things I’ve wanted to try.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” he asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity. Even though he’d just had a mind-blowing orgasm he could already feel his cock twitching back to life.

“Well…there’s doggy style, the pretzel, reverse cowgirl, the upstanding citizen, the butterfly…”

As you listed off more positions, his eyes continued to grow wider and wider until they were almost bulging out of his head.

“Uh, you don’t actually plan to try all those tonight, do you?” He chuckled nervously.

You reached out to grasp his chin, lips curled into a smile as you tutted at his furrowed brow. Gazing down at the man you loved, you recalled the words he’d said to you so many months before.

“Don’t be nervous, sweetheart. I’m going to take real good care of you.”

Thank you for reading 🖤

A/N: We’ve reached the end! Thanks so much to everyone who interacted with this little mini-series. Your comments and reblogs have meant so much!! ILY <3

I have some additional blurbs planned for fun things these two discover in books and movies and want to practice on each other. Questionable sex tips in old magazines are pure gold ;) Feel free to send me any suggestions you might have!

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If I missed anyone who asked to be added, I’m sorry! I’m disorganized 🙃

dividers by saradika-graphics

[lil-quinnie]

for later

right where you left me. (the masterlist)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (modern day au) total word count: tbc

summary: a weekend gateway to with your old high school friends? sounds like a dream! only it’s not really as it’s been three years since you last saw them. three years since you left hawkins without so much as a goodbye, and certain people tend to hold grudges.

content warnings: friends-to-enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, forced proximity, angsty, mutual pining, suggestive & mature themes, adult language, emotional hurt / comfort, use of pet names, eddie is a bit of an asshole, mentions & descriptions of underage alcohol consumption / substance abuse, discusses sobriety, and also touches on topics of: unrequited love, divorce, death, grief, toxic relationships, mental health, self-doubt / insecurities, love triangle? — pls read the cw's for each chapter and let me know if i missed any!

chapter one | (aka right where you left me) chapter two | (aka dear stranger,) chapter three | (aka some protector) chapter four | (aka what can i say after i'm sorry?) chapter five | (aka we can't be friends) chapter six | (aka break my heart again) epilogue | (aka eddie my love)

psa: any images used in chapter headers don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also vaguely — if at all— described in the story.

a/n: the following are some songs i think they fit perfectly with their story, so i wanted to share them with you.

taylor swift - right where you left me | dido - thank you | iron & wine, fiona apple - all in good time | ariana grande - i wish i hated you | chappell roan - kaleidoscope | jesse - rainbow | finneas - break my heart again | tiny habits - people always change | taylor swift - dear reader | the cranberries - linger | bon iver - things behind things behind things | duran duran - come undone | cigarettes after sex - pistol | twenty one pilots - the run and go | taylor swift - my tears ricochet | david kushner - daylight | lana del rey - how to disappear | ashe - dear stranger, | lp - the one that you love | willow avalon - baby blue | role model - some protector | taylor swift - the great war | omega - pearls in her hair | lizzy mcalpine - ceilings | mark ronson ft. miley cyrus - nothing breaks like a heart | ashe - cherry trees | blossoms - what can i say after i'm sorry? | gracie abrams - i love you, i'm sorry | suki waterhouse - nostalgia | taylor swift - the bolter | ariana grande - we can’t be friends (wait for your love) | finneas - partners in crime | lana del rey ft. father john misty - let the light in | the script - the man who can’t be moved | brigitte calls me baby - eddie my love | harry styles - love of my life

as always, thank you for reading & please support your writers by reblogging <3

main masterlist

[lil-quinnie]

When Love and Hate Collide

Eddie Munson song-fic.

Song lyrics belong to the band Def Leppard!

warnings: female reader, cruel Eddie, angst!

Eddie walked out of his trailer, seeing you sitting on your own porch in the opposite lot with your boombox beside you, listening to your music. Usually your music taste was similar to his, but when you were in a low mood you always went for power ballads. He used to teased you about that but right now he felt like someone had punched him when he saw you refusing to look in his direction, writing in your notebook, silently lip-syncing to the song.

You could have a change of heart If you would only change your mind Instead of slamming down the phone, girl For the hundredth time

He had tried calling you, reasoning with you, begging your forgiveness but it was plain to see that this time you've had enough.

I got your number on my wall But I ain't gonna make that call When divided we stand, baby United we fall

You two had been best friends forever. Your parents had rented the trailer in the lot opposite his and Wayne's when you were barely four years old and you had hit it off immediately.

He couldn't say when those feelings had developed into love. Maybe when your parents had sent you to camp the whole summer and you hadn't seen each other for two months? Maybe it was when Gareth Heath had commented on how you had come back from summer camp with a 'rack of lamb'? Maybe it was when you said that you had a small crush on Patrick Swayze and he got furious because Swayze was a pretty boy, nothing like him and he wanted you to think of only him.

Yet, he never acted on those feelings, despite the hints you dropped. He was scared that if it didn't work out he would lose you forever. That was his worst nightmare. He'd rather stay just friends then.

Got the time, got a chance, gonna make it Got my hands on your heart, gonna take it All I know I can't fight this flame

It was plain to see that it hurt you. Especially when he got drunk and flirted with other girls - maybe just to see how jealous you got, to ensure him you still loved him and only him - or when he sold weed to cheerleaders and they flirted with him, wearing their short skirts and scratching his arm with their painted nails to get a reduced price.

You never did anything of the sort. You were in love with Eddie and wanted no one else. Good thing you didn't because he might have punched the guy you showed the slighest bit of interest in.

It was only because Patrick Swayze was a hundred miles away in Hollywood - and too old for you - that Eddie hadn't killed him.

Not really, but still.

You could have a change of heart If you would only change your mind 'Cause I'm crazy 'bout you, baby Time after time

But last night at the Hideout when some skank (your words, not his) had all but draped herself over him and he had done nothing to prevent it, despite talking to you merely seconds before, you had slammed down your glass on the bar counter top and walked out.

He had pushed the girl off of him and raced after you wondering what was wrong and you had turned around, looking at him with such hatred in your eyes that he had to take a step back. Your voice was colder than ice when you said: "I'm done. Done, Munson (not Eddie. Munson.). You've been hurting me for years. Friends don't do that. And since you claim that's the only thing we are, then I say it's a shitty friendship and I'm better off without it. We're done. Don't call me. Don't visit. Don't talk to me. Never again."

Without you, one night alone Is like a year without you baby Do you have a heart of stone? Without you Can't stop the hurt inside When love and hate collide

He had been struck by surprise, then paralyzing fear before he shook himself out of it. You couldn't mean it... right? No, you were just angry. You would get over it and understand he didn't mean anything by it. You always did.

He had cursed himself a million times over for not going after you when you walked off. He had gone back inside, thinking a little distance would make you cool down.

It was merely hours later that he realized what a mistake he had made.

When he got home he had tried calling you, but you didn't answer. When your parents answered the phone they didn't even bother lying to him - they said you didn't want to talk to him and that was that.

He went over to your place the next day but you didn't come to the door. He knew you were home because once again your mom refused to lie to him, she simply said that you didn't want to see him and that he had to respect your choice.

When Monday rolled around you took the bus to school from the trailer park. You hadn't done that in years, always riding with him in his van. In school you avoided him like the plague, sitting with Robin instead of the Hellfire table. When the guys heard what had happened they all looked at him as if he had killed someone. Or rather, killed you.

I don't wanna fight no more I don't know what we're fighting for When we treat each other, baby Like an act of war

Now he didn't know what to do. It was like someone had reached into his chest and cut his heart out. He had tried saying sorry, even put letters underneath your door, saying he would do better. You still didn't talk to him.

Deep inside he hoped you would again, that you would realize that you missed him, just like he missed you. But for every day that passed he slowly realized that whatever feelings you had for him, he had fucked up one time too many and the pan of the scale had tipped over.

I could tell a million lies And it would come as no surprise When the truth is like a stranger Hits you right between the eyes

"You got to make this right," Wayne said when Eddie all but cried for help. "You obviously don't see her as a friend. Not to mention you hurt her so many times - trying to have your cake and eat it too! That's such a cruel thing to do, Eddie! I've not raised you to act like that! So tell her how you feel. For real. And you better spend the rest of your time making it up to her!"

There's a time and a place and a reason And I know I got a love to believe in All I know Got to win this time

So that same night he showed up on your porch with his acoustic guitar, strumming out the tones to the song you had played just the other day. Not caring whether your parents heard him or even called the cops on him.

Without you, one night alone Is like a year without you, baby Do you have a heart of stone? Without you Can't stop the hurt inside When love and hate collide

You could have a change of heart If you would only change your mind 'Cause I'm crazy 'bout you, baby Crazy, crazy

You opened the door, meeting his gaze for the first time in days.

"I... I love you, sweetheart," Eddie whispered. "I'm so sorry. So sorry for how I behaved. Please... please give me a chance to make this right. I can't live without you."

You shook your head. "I'm so goddamn angry at you, Eddie Munson. But... I love you too I thought it would be easier, living without you. It's not! I miss you so much!"

Eddie smiled and ran up to her, wrapping his arms around her tightly, both of them crying.

"But I'm telling you now - I'll castrate you if you ever hurt me again!" Y/N whispered and Eddie chuckled.

"I'll hand you the knife, baby."

"Don't bother - I'll use a spoon."

Without you, one night alone Is like a year without you, baby Do you have a heart of stone? Without you, one night alone Is like a year without you, baby If you have a heart at all Without you I can't stop the hurt inside When love and hate collide

@eddiemunsonfuxks

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