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#eddie munson fluff
joejoequinnquinn · 24 hours
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Head Over Heels
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 5k
Summary: 🔞 18+ ONLY. There do be smut. Friends to Lovers, Jealous Eddie, smutty behaviour in several forms, oral, unprotected p in v (don’t do this!)
Hope you enjoy!
REBLOGS WILL HELP TO HEAL THIS BROKEN LITTLE SOUL BY SHARING THE FIC WITH OTHERS 🙏🏻
•••
•••
Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, head moving closer to the hinges of the closed cubicle door you’re currently hiding behind.
“It’s really not that bad, sweetheart”
“How?” You cry despondently “How is me exposing my ass to half of Hawkins not that bad?”
“Well…” he shrugs, shifting his weight to lean a shoulder against the brickwork “…because you’ve got a great ass”
There’s a solid CRACK as you hurl a shoe at the door with such force it rattles in its frame.
“Eddie! Oh my GOD!”
“What?! It’s true!”
“SHUT UP!”
“Okay okay, I’m sorry…” He’s lucky you can’t see the smirk that spreads across his face, because he knows damn well you’d beat the ever loving shit out of him if you did.
•••
•••
It had seemed a great idea at the time, the seed planting itself firmly in your mind as you dangled your feet into the pool and watched while every scantily girl that sauntered past the life guard tower to the diving board gained the undivided attention of Richie.
Richie had blonde hair just below his jawline that curled into ringlets which could rival any cabbage patch doll. A smattering of freckles were painted over the bridge of his nose, tanned skin under his lifeguard shirt making him look every inch the poster boy for a hot American summer.
As his suitors ascended the metal steps to the board, his gaze followed - even more so as their bodies stretched and elongated when they dove gracefully into the refreshingly cool water of the pool. They’d surface with a giggle, looking over towards him to receive their prize as they exited the pool - a toothy grin and if they were lucky, a wink, from the object of all their desires as they stalked back towards his chair, bodies glistening in the sunlight.
“Hey!” Eddie yelled, hand slapping the surface of the water to gain your attention, spray of cold droplets splattering your thighs “Earth to Miss Space Cadet!”
You shrieked and kicked your ankles, splashing him back furiously until he had to duck under the water to escape the torrent aimed in his direction. He resurfaced in front of you, tattooed chest pressed flush to your knees, arms folded over your thighs and a deep frown etched on his face.
“What do you want, goober?” You giggled, palm pushed to his face where he pretended to try and snap at your fingers with his teeth bared, making you choke on a snort of laughter.
“If you were listening, you’d know I was checking you were still cool to cover my shift next Friday?”
“Huh?” You sighed and glanced back over to Ritchie “oh, right, the store. Friday. No problem”
“Jesus, what’s so interesting over there?” Eddie turned and pressed his back flat against the edge of the pool, craning his neck so he could see what was stealing your attention.
“Oh god, you too? Him?!” He balked “You’re ignoring me for that guy?”
Eddie knew Ritchie from back in high school, didn’t like him then and doesn’t like him now - especially when you couldn’t stop staring that way when you were meant to be listening to him.
“Shut up, idiot!” you hissed “And I wasn’t ignoring you, I promise - but if you’ll excuse me real quick, I do have something I need to do…”
Scooping your feet out of the water, you tossed your sunglasses on top of your towel, straightened the straps of your two-piece bathing suit and decided to shoot your shot.
“Where are you go_”
Eddie huffed and watched dumbfounded as you set your sights on Ritchie, walking towards the lifeguard tower as if you were auditioning to be a catwalk model. He positively scowled as you lingered at the bottom of the station, and nearly spat burning flames of rage when he watched Ritchie do a double take, smirk at you and hop down off his perch, leaning right into your space.
Not just because you were his best friend and he hated seeing you turn into some doe-eyed, love sick fool at the hands of a cookie-cutter rich boy jock - but because you were his best friend and he was so utterly, hopelessly in love with you it made him despise himself.
Watching you bat your eyelashes and push your chest out that little bit more just for Ritchie’s benefit made Eddie want to vomit. Your head tipped back with a forced laugh, hand reaching to squeeze at his upper arm.
“Oh Ritchie, tsk tsk, I thought you worked out?” Eddie mimicked your voice to fill in his own version of a conversation he couldn’t hear.
“Sure that’s what i tell all you girls, but the truth is I suffer from a terrible condition called butthead-itis”
“Well, goodness, what does that mean?”
“Means you can squeeze this little bicep all you like honey, I’ll never be able to lift weights and build any decent muscle. Hell, I’m too weak to even hold a guitar - not like that super awesome musician friend of yours”
“You mean Eddie?”
“Yeah, hear he shreds guitar like a machine. Far better guy than I’ll ever be.”
“Hmm, now you mention it, he IS kinda cute, maybe i should just__oh shit, where the hell is she going?”
Eddie straightened up when he saw you walk away, looking back over your shoulder to Ritchie as you took the metal steps of the high dive one by one. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. You’re afraid of heights, they make you dizzy.
He hopped out of the pool but it was too late, all Eddie could do was watch through his fingers as you shuffled forward and made the terrible mistake of looking down. He saw the moment your legs gave way as you reached the end of the board, losing your footing and sending you toppling to the water below in the least elegant way possible. Shoulders down, arms flailing, ass up. Worse, still, was how the force of the impact to the water had pushed the bottoms of your two-piece bathing suit right down the tops of your thighs - exposing your very bare ass quite explicitly to absolutely everyone nearby.
Your faced had flamed with embarrassment even while still under the water, scrambling to cover yourself as you burst back through the surface a gasping, spluttering mess - a cacophony of raucous laughter ringing cruelly in your ears. It felt like that time you’d worn white pants to school and spilled grape juice on yourself at lunch, the whole cafeteria pointing and giggling. You would never live this down. Your shot with Ritchie had been well and truly blown.
Hot tears prickled at your eyes, blood whooshing in your ears as you barrelled towards the changing cubicles - registering Eddie only long enough to snatch your bundled up towel from his outstretched hands before slamming the door behind you.
•••
•••
Eddie has his back to the door now, towel hanging low at his waist, tucked around his hips. Eyes closed against the early evening sun, he tips his head back to soak up the last of the heat. Hearing footsteps scuff along the concrete, one eye squints open to see Jeff approaching with a knowing smile.
Jeff’s uncle runs the pool, so he’s trusted with the keys to lock up the premises once all the stragglers have finally vacated their sun loungers. The bundle jangles loudly as he spins them on one finger and launches them towards Eddie, everyone else flocking past to head home for the evening.
“She ever going to come outta there?” He nods to the door and Eddie shakes his head with a quiet chuckle.
“I’ll be honest with you, Jeff - it’s not looking good”
The pair exchange mischievous grins, both stepping close to the door.
“We might have to call the fire service to come knock the door down, she can’t stay in there, my uncle’s very strict about people being here after hours, Eddie.”
“I know, man, I know. Shit, we don’t want any trouble…hey, I might have a better idea - hand me that ‘in case of emergency’ axe over there, I’ll bust her out myself.”
“I can HEAR you both, you know!” You yell, belligerent as ever.
“We KNOW!” Their faces crack, laughter bursting from their chests and bleeding into your space under the small gap at the bottom of the door.
“Well…good!” Your arms cross over your chest, huffing in frustration “Because I’m not leaving this cubicle. Like, ever.”
Jeff rolls his eyes and pats Eddie on the shoulder, reminding him to double lock the gates when he finally leaves.
•••
Another half hour passes, sun shifting lower in the sky, now a sinking red ball bathing the empty poolside in pink and orange hues. Eddie’s ass cheeks are going numb where he sits on the ground, having failed in all previous attempts to convince your incredibly stubborn self to exit the cubicle.
“Alright, enough is enough.” He groans slightly as he gets to his feet, rattling the keys loudly to get your attention “If you’re not gonna come out, sweetheart, then i’m just gonna have to let myself in”
“I wish you luck with that!” You call, too cocky for your own good “Door’s locked, remember?”
“I have the master keys from Jeff. His uncle runs this place, remember?”
He smiles as he hears you curse, sifting through the keys until he finds the one he’s after. It clinks as he inserts the metal to the casing, forcing the lock open so he can swing the door open and step inside with an irritated huff of air leaving his nostrils.
“Don’t just come bursting in - I’m not decent!”
You’re sat on the wooden bench against the back wall, still in your swimsuit, small towel wrapped around your body preserving the rest of your dignity. Eddie’s eyes flit up and down as he glances at you. It truly is nothing he hasn’t seen before, but you can’t know how grateful he is that his towel is covering the area of his body that all blood flow has been redirected to.
“Y’look pretty decent to me”
He shrugs, winking at you deliberately.
“Stop doing that” You grumble, moving over to make a space for Eddie without him needing to ask.
“Doing what?”
“Trying to make me feel better about humiliating myself.”
Eddie snorts in disgust as he sits down, knee bumping your thigh in the cramped space.
“You still hung up on Ritchie? That guy is not worth shutting yourself away for, sweetheart, I mean it. He’s a fuckin’ ass.”
“Yeah yeah, you already said.”
Your eyes shine with a fresh wave of mortification, nails picking at the skin of your thumb the way they always do when you’re anxious. Eddie let’s out an exasperated sigh.
“Look, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, angel, but as soon as his shift was over he walked right out of here without a second thought. Had that god awful Kimberley on his arm - or was it Stephanie? Either way…that waste of oxygen wasn’t sticking around to check on you.”
“Alright, Eddie” you bristle, tugging the towel tighter around yourself “I get it - you don’t like him. You don’t like any of the guys that show an interest in me”
“Well, that’s not entirely true”
“If you say so…”
“It’s not.” He insists, elbows resting on his knees, turning his face closer as he makes a steeple with his fingers under his chin “Remember Gregory? I kinda liked Gregory…”
“Ahh - dear Gregory” you reminisce “My first real boyfriend. Dude never even had the guts to kiss me…”
“And that’s why he was my favourite.”
You snort out a laugh and nudge him hard in the ribs with your elbow. Eddie clambers to his feet, faking being mortally wounded as he staggers to the door claiming to need fresh air to heal his wounds, turning at the last moment to reach a hand back for you in dramatic fashion.
With a roll of your eyes, you gather your things and let the tips of your fingers be gripped by his big hand as he tugs you over the threshold of your safety net for the last few hours.
•••
Eddie follows behind you on the steps of the high dive, forcing himself not to stare directly at your ass cheeks as they hover inches from his face. His chest bumps into your back as you halt at the top, body curving around your shoulders as he reaches forward to grab the handrails.
“What’s the hold up, princess?”
“This was a really dumb idea…” you mutter, trying to back up but finding your path blocked by his solid frame, skin still warm from the day’s sun. You turn, finding yourself surrounded by Eddie in all directions, it catches you off guard - words dissolving on your tongue as coffee coloured eyes keep you rooted to the spot.
“No, it’s an excellent idea” his hands grasp your shoulders to spin you back round “…gotta exorcise those pool demons and get back on this board. C’mon, there’s no one to see you jump but me. And I don’t give two shits how you dive off this thing, as long as you fucking do it.”
“Eddie,” you plead “I can’t.”
“Want me to go first?” He drops his voice, chin resting next to your ear “Show you how it’s done?”
You can’t help but take a deep breath and give a silent nod of affirmation. Next thing you know, hands are splayed on your hips as he skilfully manoeuvres his body past yours to take a running leap off the board, cannonballing into the still water below with an epic splash.
“Your turn, no take backs!” He yells gleefully as he comes up for air, dimples visible even in the rapidly fading light.
Shaking your head, you screech as you run as fast as your legs will go until your body is plummeting through the air. There’s just time to tuck your legs in close as your body twists and you land flat on your back with a loud slap, water engulfing you entirely. You hear Eddie guffaw through your spluttering as you resurface.
“Well, maybe third time’s the charm, huh sweetheart?”
“Fuck you, Munson.” You cough, paddling to the pool edge and hauling yourself back out with a wince of pain “Told you it was a shitty idea.”
Eddie ignores you and clambers out of the water, dripping his way over to the storage near Ritchie’s lifeguard chair and forcing it open, returning with an armful of t-shirts. He systematically ties them in a ball and proceeds to hurl them into the deep end of the pool, much to your amusement. When he’s finished, he jumps back in and dunks them under again for good measure.
“Why do you hate him so much?” You muse, legs swishing back and forth while you watch the water’s surface ripple outwards.
Eddie stops what he’s doing to look back over his shoulder, hair flicking across his jaw with expression suggesting you’ve asked the dumbest question on Earth.
“You really need me to spell it out for you?”
“Yep” you pop the ‘p’ sound and slide into the water, flopping onto your back so you can float on the surface like a starfish.
“Besides being a rich jock who got an easy ride at school because of his Daddy, and made the lives of people like me more miserable than they deserved to be?”
“Besides that, yeah, ‘cause that description covers a lot of idiots we knew back then, Eddie. Why does Ritchie still make your nostrils flair every time you look at him?”
“Not every time” he mutters.
“Eddie…”
“Because”
“Because why?” With a splash, you stand upright and flick water in his direction. It hits him right between the eyes.
“Jesus Christ, sweetheart, you’re like a dog with a fucking bone. You wanna know why? Fine.” He grits out, swiping a hand over his wet face in frustration “Because he gets everything he wants handed to him on a plate, always has - and I know that sounds like I’m just a bitter, jealous idiot…but he’s never had to work hard for a damn thing in his life, ever! Not his grades, not friends, not a job, not…girls”
There it is.
Your head tilts, interest piqued.
“Ooh. Which girls?”
“Does it matter?”
Shimmying your way through the pool, you close the distance until you’re close enough to see the faint pink flush that creeps across his chest.
“Which girls, Munson?”
He clears his throat and starts to reel off a list, counting names on his fingers. Girls he’d thought the sun had shone for but who’d never even look at him twice, yet fell at the feet of lover boy Ritchie time and time again.
“Amy Rodriguez, Sara Shakespear, Jessica Morrison, Sophia Hartman - and…”
“And…?” You urge, reaching to prod the flesh of his arm.
Eddie stops talking, eyes shifting to look up and over your shoulder with his jaw set. You follow his gaze, fixed on the diving board - and a sudden, crushing realisation punches the air from your lungs.
“…and me?” You whisper, turning back as he tilts his face to the sky, puffing out his cheeks and blowing out a long breath before lowering his head to meet your searching eyes.
“Yeah, sweetheart.” Hands on hips, he swallows hard “And you.”
“W-why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“Honestly? I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t wanna screw things up, I guess.”
What happens next catches him completely off guard.
You start to laugh.
A loud, obnoxious cackle that starts from deep in your belly and bubbles up out of your chest like hot fudge sauce.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Why are you laughing?” He bristles, hurt by your reaction.
Hands covering your mouth, you compose yourself, swallowing the shock and moving closer through the water, hands reaching up to move damp curls off Eddie’s face with a tenderness that makes his chest ache with longing.
“What would you say if I told you that I really don’t enjoy swimming?”
Eddie frowns, tripped up by the sudden change of subject.
“I, uh…guess I’d ask why the hell you forced me to drive you here several times a week for the entire summer - and if you say it was just to drool over Ritchie, I swear to god_”
“Not Ritchie.”
“No?”
“No.”
You hold your breath, taking a final step forward and letting your fingers fall to trace over the ink on his chest.
“I only made you come here because I stupidly thought if I wore a new two-piece, maybe it might finally get you to look at me as more than just your weirdo friend. When you never even seemed to notice, I figured you just weren’t interested.”
It’s Eddie’s turn to snort out a laugh, round and full like his heart clattering against his ribs.
“You’re shitting me, right?”
You shake your head, smile shyly and crinkle your nose.
“You wore that…” he gestures enthusiastically between your bodies “…for me?”
Nervous teeth bite down on your bottom lip as you nod your head, feelings well and truly exposed.
“So, you won’t go running for the hills when I kiss you?”
“Only one way to find ou—“
Wet lips cut you off, pressing hungrily against yours. The chlorine from his skin is what you taste first, making way for the hint of tobacco and lingering sweet hit of the pack of twizzlers you shared earlier. The inviting warmth of his mouth takes over as Eddie gently coaxes your lips open with his tongue, desperate to explore.
Strong hands walk you backwards, caging you in against the poolside, heart thundering in your chest as you feel Eddie slot his thigh between yours - propping you up that little bit higher. He inhales your whimper and hums like he’s waited his entire life to taste you.
“I meant what I said earlier, you know” he mumbles against your lips “you really do have a great ass.”
“Jesus Christ, Eddie” you break away with a laugh, only for his hand to cup your jaw and guide your mouth back to his where he swallows your throaty groan without a second’s hesitation.
Eddie feels like someone shook a bottle of fizzy soda and buried it deep inside his chest - anticipation and heat bubbling uncontrollably, bursting their way to the surface at ferocious speed.
You lean into him, mewling as Eddie wraps one arm around your waist, the other sliding up between your shoulder blades, grip firm at the back of your neck while his tongue rolls over yours, licking his way around your mouth like he’s always belonged there. He kisses you until your head starts to spin from lack of oxygen, dizzying buzz heightening the thrill of having your legs wrapped tight around his hips, tugging his heat into yours beneath the water.
A flash of red and blue lights accompanied by the short burst of a siren is enough to tear you away from each other, ducking quickly below the surface as a patrol car coasts by. The last thing Eddie needs right now is Hopper messing up the chance he never thought he’d get with you.
“Come on” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple as he lifts himself out of the water and reaches back to urge you to follow him.
Warm summer air kisses at your skin while you find yourself led by the hand back towards the safety of the changing cubicles. Night is pulling a blanket of cooler air across the sky, but the heat between you and Eddie is far from diminished as he ushers you into the dimly lit area.
You turn, seeing Eddie’s rest his back against the now closed door, watching you as his hand comes up slowly to turn the lock. The sound of metal sliding against metal and clicking into place, shutting you away, has you biting on your lip so hard you nearly draw blood.
Eddie’s chest heaves, inked skin moving in hypnotic waves and drawing you closer. Pupils blown wide, he looks like he wants to tear you apart - feral and unhinged. It sparks the flame in your abdomen, heat gnawing at the spot between your legs again, trembling under his ravenous gaze.
You don’t have to think when he steps forward, letting his body slam into yours - you crave the contact. Eddie’s tongue licks across your bottom lip and you open for him immediately as he continues his exploration. Hands tangle in his hair to keep him close, feeling goosebumps prickle his skin from your touch. Warm palms grab at whatever part of you he can reach, fingers digging into your flesh in a way that makes you moan into his mouth for more. There’s barely time to register him undoing and removing the top of your swimsuit, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of your bottoms seconds later encouraging you to wiggle free.
Eddie groans his approval - walking you backwards to the little bench, your legs buckling as they hit the wood. He slides down with you, mouthing hungrily at your neck until his knees rest on the floor, shoulder nudging your thighs open for him, hands pinning you in place with a growl so possessive it has you pulsing at your core.
“Shit, baby. Look at you.” His voice like gravel against your skin has you shivering in anticipation.
Eddie takes his time- warm lips pressing kisses up the inside of your thighs, nose pushed into the crease of your hip as he inhales every breath of you. Eyes closed when he savours the whimper you make at the way his tongue drags along your abdomen, circling your navel, chin grazing lower, lower until he holds your gaze and lays the softest of kisses directly to your clit.
The way his name stutters from your throat, raw and pleading, has Eddie moaning into your heat, vibrations knocking the air from your lungs. He gives in, then, the flat of his tongue tasting all of you he can reach - hot mouth devouring everything you offer. He teases your swollen bud mercilessly until your thighs begin to tremble and only then does he suckle at your clit like it’s his sole purpose in life - lips caressing and rolling, letting the pressure build until the dam is about to burst. Fingers desperately scrape against his scalp as you begin to fall apart, a few well timed shakes of his head making you choke on a string of cursed sobs.
Urging him back up between your thighs, you capture his mouth, stealing the taste of yourself from his tongue as you attempt to catch your breath.
“God, Munson, you’re good at that…”
“Not gonna lie, I’ve fantasised about doing that with you for so damn long I think I created some kind of muscle memory”
Eddie feels your fingers tuck into the waistband of his swim shorts, tugging them down and dragging him forward to sit on the bench, a comical ‘oof’ leaving him as he lands, such is your enthusiasm.
“My turn” You grin, eagerly licking your lips as your mouth fills with saliva from the sight of his dick springing free from its confines.
“Sweetheart, I really don’t know if I can have your mouth on me without exploding, and I have some standards to uphold here.”
Clicking your tongue off your teeth in disapproval, you shake your head and pout as you settle between his legs.
“Are you really going to deny me one little taste?”
A groan rumbles from deep in his chest.
“You’re gonna fucking kill me, angel, you know that?”
Eddie fists his aching cock for some relief, watching slack jawed as you plant your palms on his thighs, holding his gaze determinedly while leaning down to run your warm tongue over his leaking slit with a contented hum that ripples through every cell of his body.
“Fucking Christ…”
You feel yourself being grasped firmly under each arm, pulled up and forward into his lap with a squeak until you’re sat straddled over his thighs. Eddie’s dick sits flush to his stomach as he tugs you hard into him by the flesh of your ass, pussy throbbing as you grind against him with a whine.
Tender hands cup your jaw, bringing your lips together - open kisses and panting breaths. Eddie’s mouth attaches to the sweet spot on your neck, back arching into him as he sucks a purple bruise into your skin, soothing the spot with the flat of his warm tongue.
“Eddie…Eddie, please…”
“Take what you need, princess” he mumbles into your shoulder “I’m all yours”
“All mine?” You whine and shift your hips, sinking down with a whimper as Eddie stretches you in a way that sends tingles fizzing through your limbs.
A guttural moan leaves Eddie as you suck him in and squeeze him tight, fingers gripping the flesh of your thighs so hard you know the marks are going to last into next week. You can’t move.
“G-give me a second” he begs, desperate to enjoy the consuming warmth of you just a little longer before he loses what little sanity he has left. You nod, dipping your chin to kiss him sweetly on the lips, pressing affectionate pecks to the corners of his mouth before gently tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth.
Eddie groans, and you begin to slowly roll your hips, savouring the way you can feel him everywhere from this angle. The way his cock strokes you in all the right places as you move quickly has you panting into his open mouth. Strong hands bring your waist down repeatedly to meet his upward thrusts, he’s bouncing you on his lap like it’s nothing and chanting your name like a whispered prayer. The air is thick with humidity, skin slick with sweat making you sticky, the friction heightening every tiny movement.
You’re close, so fucking close.
Eddie watches awestruck as gentle fingers stroke their way down your chest, pinching at your nipples, trailing your light touch down, down until you’re pressing soft circles to your clit - helping the coil tighten, free hand clinging to his shoulder as you start to writhe against him while you chase your high, walls pulsing as the strings snap and pleasure floods your body with a silent scream.
“That’s so fucking hot. Jesus, baby. Oh my god…shitshitshit”
His head falls back against the wall with a soft thud as he throbs uncontrollably and releases all he has inside of you with a moan you’d only ever dreamt of being able to pull from him.
Your face buries in the crook of Eddie’s neck, his curls sticking to your clammy forehead as your breathing comes fast and shallow. Lips rest on the skin of his neck, enjoying the tang of his sweat as the tip of your tongue licks gently below his ear. He doesn’t say anything, just holds you close and strokes the flat of his palm up and down your spine until his soul returns to his body.
“Hey” he murmurs, urging you backwards slightly so he can run his knuckles along your jaw.
“Hey…” you grin widely, endorphins making you giddy.
A lazy smirk curves his mouth, dimple revealing itself adorably.
“If I’d known you flashing your ass to everyone was going to lead to this, I’d have thrown you off the high dive myself weeks ago…”
“Fuck you, Munson” You laugh, high pitched and gleeful.
“Okay, fine, if you insist” He shrugs, mouthing at your still hard nipples “But I’m gonna need a minute to recover first…”
•••
•••
THANK YOU READING 🥰
Tagging some people who might possibly be interested? @joesquinns @choke-me-eddie @trashmouth-richie @tomtomslongdong @songforeddiemunson @mrsjellymunson @josephfakingquinn @josephquinnsfreckles @guardurtongue @flawiette @mmunson86 @bettyfrommars @liminalpebble @ali-r3n @tlclick73 @powderblueblood @squigglebottom @eddiesxangel @harrywavycurly
496 notes · View notes
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I like to think Eddie is the type of person who will remember the tiniest little details about you all the time that you'll share when you think no one is really paying much attention. Yet he is all the time, and it catches you off guard. Out everyone in your life he always remembered.
He hands you a baggy full of just red and purple skittles. "I picked all of your favorite ones out— I know you said these were the only flavors you liked."
"Ed, I said that like a month ago... when we were all hanging out at Steve's."
Eddie shrugged "yeah so?" He shook the bag of candy in your face, "you gonna take'em or what?"
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386 notes · View notes
rebelfell · 2 days
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A li’l self-indulgent bestfriend!eddie fluff. Reader w/ boobies.
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Eddie’s not a total pig, okay?
He can control himself just fine when necessary. He’s fully capable of maintaining a conversation without his brain short circuiting at the sight of something that makes all the tiny Eddie’s in his head run around like chickens with their heads cut off. That is…except for right now.
Because right now there are boobs in front of his face. And not just any boobs. Your boobs.
“Eddie!” You huff loudly and drop your shirt. “You’re not even listening to me, are you?”
He blinks a few times, reluctantly coming out of his daze to look up at you and the appalled frown on your face. His cheeks burn with his humiliation and his mouth falls open as he stammers through his attempt to recall what you just said.
You roll your eyes, sighing all heavy and petulant as you climb off his bed.
“Hey!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up to really sell the ruse of being offended. “You’re the one whipping out your bits all willy nilly. Can’t exactly expect me to concentrate.”
Over your shoulder you fix him with a glare and snatched up one of his Hellfire figurines to chuck it at him. The freshly painted figure ricocheted off his elbow as he threw his arms up in front of him, fighting back giggles as you scolded him.
“I came to you for advice, not to be ogled!”
Well, that was your first mistake, Eddie thought to himself. Because when it came to you there was no scenario that didn’t involve ogling.
“I’m sorry. Okay? I…I got distracted. But that’s what you’re going for, right? Weren’t you asking if they look good?”
“It’s not about whether they look good, I just…I need to know if they look even.”
Even? Even, how? Even more fucking incredible than normal? Even more mouth-watering? Even better than what Eddie’s been imagining more and more over the last few years.
“Even, how?” he asks.
“Like…normal.” You groan. “He says one of them is way bigger and I thought maybe this one would minimize the problem.”
“Problem?” Eddie snorted. “There’s not a single fucking problem with them.”
You roll your eyes at him again, but it’s not quick enough to hide the smile that started to blossom on your lips when he says that. Eddie’s bed frame squeaks in protest as he hops off the bed and comes to stand in front of you, solemn and serious in a way he almost never is.
“Sweetheart…they’re perfect.”
You’re perfect, he wants to say.
A little pride creeps into your voice as you tilt your head gently and glance briefly down at your own chest before looking back at him.
“Really?”
“Really, really. Literally, maybe, definitely, the greatest ones I’ll ever see in my life.”
A laugh bubbles out of his chest and you honestly feel like you’re going to melt into the carpet under your feet. And suddenly you can’t remember for the life of you why you even bothered with this other guy in the first place.
Because the guy you bought this stupid fancy bra for has never called them, or anything on you for that matter, perfect. And he’s never looked at you the way Eddie is looking at you.
You bit down gently on your bottom lip, absently walking your fingers along the edge of Eddie’s dresser, scratching at the chipped paint.
“Do you, um…do you think you got a good enough look?”
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strangersmunsons · 2 days
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Eddie goes shopping with you. eddie munson x gn!reader, ~900 words
“Okay, now what do you think of this?” You hold out a crisp white button-down shirt.
“I think that’s great,” he says automatically. 
“Eddie,” you sigh impatiently, “you’ve said that about every article of clothing we’ve seen today. I need like, an actual opinion.”
“That is an actual opinion.” He sounds offended that you might suggest otherwise.
“C’mon, I’m trying to look professional! You gotta help me.”
“I am helping!” Eddie holds up both arms to emphasize his point — he’s laden with bags from the stores you hit earlier in your shopping venture, weighed down with the new clothes you’re purchasing so as to better look the part for your new job.
A small giggle escapes you in spite of your exasperation. “I told you you don’t have to carry any of those,” you remind him, folding your arms across your chest.
Eddie scoffs. “And what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you haul this crap around all day?” He shakes his head, dark curls tumbling about his soft face. “No way. Wayne raised me right, thank you.”
“Well, that he certainly did,” you admit, a rush of affection warming your chest. Unable to help yourself, you reach out and pinch his little cheek between your thumb and index finger.
He pouts at the gesture, pretending to be annoyed; but really, a thrill shoots through him at the brief moment of contact. Oh, what he wouldn’t give for you to be touching him always. 
But it’s not like that. Not for you two.
Eddie tells himself that it’s okay, that he’s accepted it, he’ll content himself with daydreams and fantasies as he always has —
“Do you think black looks classier, though?” You’ve turned back to face the clothing rack again, thoughtfully fingering the silky fabric of a dark shirtsleeve. Your eyes narrow. “Or is it almost too formal?”
Eddie blinks dazedly, then shrugs. “I dunno. I wear black all the time, no one’s ever put me up for best dressed.” He frowns. “I suppose it’s a little different when it’s a Metallica t-shirt, though.”
You poke him playfully. “Or ripped jeans.”
Eddie swats your hand away, heart leaping.
You snicker in response, then soften. “For the record, I do like the way you dress. It goes with your whole thing, y’know?” You motion towards him vaguely, hands waving up and down his figure.
“My thing?”
“Mmhmm,” you hum. “The hair, the attitude, the music. Even your name. The whole thing.”
“What does my name have to do with any of that stuff?”
You shift your weight from foot to foot as you think about how to word your answer, tongue poking ever so slightly out of your mouth — an unconscious imitation of the face Eddie often makes when he’s focusing. He swoons a little when he realizes that you’re picking up some of his habits.
“I mean, if I didn’t know who you were, and someone told me to pick out the guy named Eddie Munson from a crowd of a hundred people, I could do it like that,” you tell him, snapping your fingers on the last word. “No one has ever looked more like they should be named Eddie Munson than you.” Your eyes cut over to his. “Does that make sense?”
Bewildered, Eddie’s eyebrows have shot up so high they’ve all but disappeared under his bangs. “…kind…of?”
You pat his shoulder, amused. “Don’t worry about it. Just look at the shirt.”
Obediently, his gaze flits back to the top. You smile expectantly, and he works to offer some sincere judgment. 
“Um, it looks comfier than the white one? Not as starchy.”
You nod sagely. “True.” You examine it more closely, a flicker of uncertainty clouding your features. “Do you think it’d look okay on me?”
Of course he does. He thinks you look nice in everything. In your pajamas, in your dressiest formalwear — it doesn’t matter. He never wants to hold you any less. To him, you’ve always the most beautiful person in the world. Whatever you happen to put on your body is irrelevant.
But this is the whole point of him accompanying you; he practically begged for you to let him tag along, swearing that it would be fun and that he’d help you. You’d been a smidge embarrassed at first, certain he’d grow impatient with your indecisiveness and bored with the constant vanishing into dressing rooms, but you seem comfortable now, letting him tote your bags around and asking for his advice. He hopes you’ll take him again next time, and then the next time, and then again after that…
“Yes, I do. I think you’d look really wonderful,” he finally answers. “You look incredible in everything you wear. Honest. You don’t need to worry about anything you buy today.”
Your eyes shine, a bashful smile spreading across your lips. “Really?”
“Of course,” he replies, face reddening. “You — you could wear a potato sack and make it look good, frankly.”
You laugh. “Yes, I’m sure that would be very flattering on me.”
“Hey, I think you could rock it.” He knows you think he’s teasing you, but he means it. And he’ll tell you again, and again, and again, until you believe him.
He’s got nothing but time.
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eddie x reader ; a very light hint of steve x reader
a follow up to this which is a follow up of this
tw 18+ content, tied up, temperature play, steve is baby girl himbo in this very s3 coded, eddie is jealous + mean.
“that tickles, wow, cold— ow, very very cold— shit, shit!”
You slap a hand over his mouth, wide eyes staring into yours as if he is scared beyond belief.
“Shhhhh..” you press a chaste kiss to the underside of his jaw. 
Your body was pressed in his, an ice cube held limply in your fingers as you traced it along his veiny shaft. Leaving goosebumps on his summer tanned skin. 
“Eddie is home, do you want him to know that we’re fooling around? Cause I prefer to keep my bedroom adventures private.”
“No, no! You’re right, it’s just— really cold, when you said you wanted to get freaky I thought maybe you had a friend or something to go up my ass? I don’t know!” 
You stare at him, waiting for him to say he was kidding but it never came. You sit up, the ice melting on your fingers dripping onto his sack, little whimpers from his mouth. 
“Alright… King Steve is curious about assplay, noted. We can unpack that another time— for now, it’s either the ice or nothing, you choose.” 
You kiss his chest, waiting for him to decide. He’s mumbling to himself, and you work your fingers in between the tufts of hair, eyes on him, your nipples skimming over his hot skin. 
“…okay! Okay fine! Can I kiss you maybe?” 
Steve was stretched like a voodoo doll across your bed, large hands tied to each bed post, unable to reach you, his lip in a pout as he attempted to wiggle his wrists free. 
“Keep trying to get out of your restraints and you won’t be kissing me anywhere.”
He huffed, a strand of caramel hair tousling into his forehead, “I mean they’re tight— like really tight, you sure this is normal?”
You rolled your eyes and sat up again to examine the human ken doll that was played by Steve Harrington for the evening. 
His wrists were red, fingers pale… fuck. 
You tug at the knots, trying to wedge your fingers beneath them, and after five minutes of you trying you could see Steve’s hands looking worse.
“Alright— don’t panic!” you announced, sliding from the bed and pushing your arms through the red silk robe hanging from your closet, “and don’t move…. I’ll be…” scissors! “yeah, I’ll be right back!”
“What!? You can’t just leave me like th—!” he hollers your name and you try to muffle his calls of distress by shutting your door quickly.
Eddie was in his room, you could hear him playing his guitar— and he prayed he didn’t hear the muffled pleas from Steve. 
Rifling through the kitchen junk drawer you find everything but the scissors. Chopsticks from too many late night orders of chinese takeout, ketchup packets, pens, a pack of markers, Eddie’s fake ID he had in high school, Wayne’s expired ID he tried to use at the gas station when you were sixteen and more rope. 
The pair of you didn’t own a knife set, never having cooked anything that required culinary skills— you were at a loss— the only option left was to ask Eddie for his pocket knife. Goddamnit.
The walk to his room felt like miles long, and honestly you would have preferred if you never got there. His door was open, the low times of his acoustic guitar filled the air along with a haze of smoke. 
A quick rap on his door and Eddie was looking up at you, cigarette limp from his lips, as he motions to the other side of his room with a nod of his head. 
“…ham & pineapple no pepperonis, cash on the dresser.” 
“What? Oh yeah, sure— forgot it’s Friday. Hey, ummm. I need a favor.” 
Eddie smirks and shakes his head, “I’m not loaning you anymore bud, you already owe you twenty.” 
“No— I’m not here for free weed, I need your knife.” 
His eyebrows quirk and he waits for you to ask his silent “why?”
“It’s an emergency.” 
“Your boss sucks sweetheart, 100%— but you can’t kill him.” 
“Eddie shut up,” you whine, stomping your foot, “I just need to borrow it—I'll give it right back!”
He rolls his eyes, leaning over to grab his knife from his back pocket, “tell me what you need it for.” 
You stare at him, mouth open, “I…can’t.” 
“Okay? and why not?”
Your name is heard in a wail from your room and your cheeks heat with embarrassment. 
“is someone in there?”
Scrubbing your hands down your face you finally admit it, “Yes! Jesus fuck! Now will you please either help me or give me the knife, he’s stuck!”
It takes everything in Eddie to try not to laugh, but he simple hides his lips and nods, thinking to himself what kid. of shit you’d gotten into now, and with who?
He follows you into your room, watching your form move beneath the silk robe, trying to keep his eyes from staring too long or imagining what lie beneath the thin fabric. 
Your eyes are covered when you open the door so you miss the shock on Steve’s face to see his best friend walk into your room. His dick is still out, laying against his hairy thigh, and the only thing he can do is an awkward jock head nod followed by a “sup?”
Thankful that he has a good poker face, Eddie nods back, ears crimson in anger, biting his tongue as he flips the blade out with flare. Behind his dark eyes He was fuming. 
Steve? 
STEVE HARRINGTON?
Of all people you could have tied up in here in some makeshift attempt at whatever you thought you were doing— it had to be him.
Heads would fucking roll when this was over and him and Steve were alone. 
Slicing through the ropes like they were nothing, Eddie simply raises his eyebrows and shakes his head, leaving with his mind grinding like gears on how to stop this from happening again. 
“Thanks for calling Family Video. Our hours are 10-10 Sunday through Saturday, stop in to rent our latest releases, this is St—”
“Harrington.”
“Hey man, hey— thanks for uh, helping me out the other night. I really o—”
“Yeah, you do,” the cord bounces on the floor as Eddie turns the corner, looking back at you in the living room asleep on the couch— walking to his room,  “that’s why whenever she calls… you are going to make up whatever excuse that big hair of yours can..”
“Wait..?”
Eddie grits your name out through clenched teeth. 
“If she calls to hang out, you will find a reason not to, y’ catch my drift, pal?” 
“Ye-yeah, sure thing… what should I say?”
“I don’t care Harrington, make something up… tell her you have a girlfriend, you have the measles, I really don’t give a fuck what it is, as long as I never have to walk into her room and see your dick again.”
Steve narrows his eyes, blurring the neon lights in the video store, “dude, what the hell?” 
“Sarah is single— I’ll give you her numb—”
“Okay? But so is she, why are you acting like an asshole right now?”
You. He was being a dick because of you. Sick and tired of you not willing to admit you both had feelings for eachother, and he was ready to pull out the big guns in order to make it happen. 
“Don’t worry about it.” 
taglist: @likedovesinthewnd @dashingdeb16 @joejoequinnquinn @min-geniusx @ho3forfakeguys @taintedcigs @b-irock @queenimmadolla @serasvictoria @the-unforgivenn @curlyjoequinn @munsonlore @eiightysixbaby @munsonburn3r
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cinemabean · 1 day
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when you and bestfriend!eddie finally start dating, he’s so eager to kiss and hold and dote on you every chance he gets.
like pressing a kiss to your cheek while you wait in line at the store, resting an arm around your waist while you laugh with your friends at lunch, staring in adoration as you go on about the latest documentary you binged, kissing you sweet before closing the passenger door, pulling you in for hugs and telling you some of the sweet thoughts he has about you when you find yourselves alone, coming over to do nothing but be in the same room while you both work on your own things, he’ll give your hand an occasional squeeze just to remind you that he’s there.
greeting you with a bunch of handpicked flowers when he picks you up, guiding you to snuggle up under his chin while you watch a movie, caging you against the wall when you voice an insecurity- assuring you there’s nothing you need to feel that way about. picking you up when you pout at him and playfully tossing you onto his bed to tickle and smother you in kisses until you’re squirming and giggling, absolutely begging for a break.
lighting little candles in his room he bought just to make it extra cozy for when you stay the night, grazing his fingertips across your scalp while you nap on his chest - you feel the lightest press of his lips on your skin every few minutes.
the list goes on - he’s waited so long to be able to do those things with you, and if he knows anything for sure, it’s that he’ll never again waste anymore time.
“you’ll always be my best friend, but i’m so glad you’re finally my girl, too,” he whispers before you finally doze off.
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 3 days
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Part one
Previously; You heard Eddie say that you weren't his type, you're devastated and decide to distance yourself, Eddie notices this and realises how much he misses you...and how much he likes you 💞
Part two warnings, Eddie making a fool of himself, the boy has a serious crush. Mutual pining, idiots to lovers.
💞💌
Now that Eddie has noticed you, it's like he can't stop. He looks out for you in the hallways, secretly hoping that you'll talk to him like you used to.
"Dude, would you go and speak to her instead of gawking at her like an idiot" Gareth snaps, Eddie throws him a dark look and looks away from you.
You're chatting to Robin animatedly and you're just mesmerising. You never opened up like that around Eddie, he's worried he's unknowingly made you nervous around him.
Gareth mentioned about the crush you had on him, was that still the case? He's frustrated because he wants to talk to you, but he feels flustered and unsure what to say.
A rarity for him according to the rest of Hellfire. Assholes. They were right though, he could run his mouth about Jason and his band of buttheads, talk for hours about D&D and heavy metal.
But how is he feeling right now around you? Well this was different. He could be shy if he was attracted to someone but he always knew what to say, even if it was some inane babbling.
Around you though he drew a blank, babbled and blushed much to the rest of the gang's amusement. Fuck they would never let their fierce dungeon master forget that you turned him to absolute mush.
If he could have one proper conversation with you before the week is out then he would be a happy man.
Seeing you being so open around Steve doesn't help either, envy claws at his insides and he feels irrationality jealous of Steve Harrington.
Gareth takes pity on Eddie's failing to talk to you and mentions about the drawings you had done for Hellfire.
"She's really good dude, maybe you could start the conversation with that" this perks Eddie up and he decides to just go for it and speak to you.
He walks over to you as you're chatting to Robin as Eddie approaches you peer up at him and smile. "Oh hi Eddie"
"Uh, hi sweetheart, Gareth says you had some drawings for Hellfire. Would you like to show me them. If you want?" He asks you. Crosses his fingers behind his back.
To his delight you agree. "Sure, I was meant to show you a little while back but uh I was busy, I'd love to show you" he gestures to you to follow him and the two of you head to the drama room where Hellfire is hosted.
Carefully you lay out your drawings on the table, you feel like your whole body is buzzing with nerves as he leans over you to take a look. His fingers caress over the drawings and he lets out a soft gasp of surprise.
Your drawings are amazing and he tells you and you beam at him, pleased that he likes them. Eddie pauses as he shifts one of the pictures away and his eyes widen, "Is that me?" he takes in the photo and you move it away mortified.
The drawing was of Eddie as the Dungeon Master but exaggerated with certain D&D elements and bats that represented one of his tattoos.
"That's an incredible drawing sweetheart" you duck your head to avoid his gaze, that familiar shyness you feel around him, coming back tenfold.
"Thanks" you murmur and you swear your heart might beat out of its chest when he moves closer to you, his breath almost tickles your neck.
"Can I keep this?" He asks and you nod feeling delighted that he likes it so much. You're still confused why he's talking to you so intently and with interest now but you put it out of your mind.
Maybe the two of you could at least be friends? It might help you finally get over him. It wasn't a foolproof plan and you could end up falling even more for him but it was worth a shot.
...
To your surprise Eddie comes over to chat to you all week at school and in Family Video, sometimes you feel like he's making excuses just to talk to you. "Someone's got a crush" Robin teases and Steve doesn't look happy as you help Robin unpack new stock.
"Took him long enough to realise it" you shake your head and ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the thought of Eddie liking you. It couldn't be true though could it?
"He doesn't, he's just interested in my drawings" you explain and you feel the brief hope you had slipping away.
"Yeah...that's totally why he's staring at you like a lovesick puppy, your drawings" Robin subtly nods over to Eddie who nearly knocks several videos over when you catch his eye. There's a sweet goofy grin on his face and a pink tingle to his cheeks.
You had never seen Eddie blush before, he was usually so confident, the blush was endearing. Wait why was he blushing? Surely it couldn't be because of you could it?
No don't be silly. He likes Megan, you're not his type. "He doesn't have a crush on me" you shake your head refusing to believe it.
Robin brightens then gently nudges you to the front of the counter. "Well, he's coming this way, so..." You smile as Eddie walks over to you and is quiet for a few seconds before he blurts out the question he's been dying to speak to you in private.
Curious at what he's going to say, you decide to take your break a little early since the store is quiet for now, you follow him outside and can't help notice how jittery he is. Why was he nervous? Did you make him nervous? The thought was a tiny bit thrilling.
Eddie seems to be struggling with what to say, you wait patiently as he takes a deep breath then it all comes out in a mumbled rush.
"Sorry, what was that Eddie?" you move closer to him, confused at what he's saying, it was all jumbled and quiet. He flushes a little bit then steels himself instantly looking determined.
"Gareth said you had a crush on me and I'm wondering if that's still true?" He blurts out and you freeze. Ah shit.
"Does it matter? You don't like me that way, I'm not your type" you wince at the sadness that colours your tone.
"You're wrong" his voice turns impossibly soft and you stare at him puzzled. You heard him say that you weren't his type.
"I heard what you said to Gareth and you were hoping Megan noticed you" you point out to him, he blushes and nods, not denying it.
"Yeah I was a dumbass, when you weren't around I missed you like crazy and realised how much I really do like you and I'm not interested in Megan, not anymore" Unbelievable, you shake your head torn between amusement and being completely stunned.
"You sure do take your time Eddie Munson" you eventually reply to him and he gives you a heartmelting smile and on an impulse you kiss his cheek, then at that moment Steve yells that your break is almost done. Great, just great.
Picking up your bag, you wave goodbye to Eddie and rush to get back inside, Eddie touches his cheek where you kissed it and a big smile breaks across his face. He's dazed and happy for a few seconds, then he comes to. "Hey, princess. Will you let me take you on a date sometime?" He yells over to you.
You peer up at Eddie through your lashes, "Sure...definitely sometime" you smile at him then turn away, try to control the fact you want to squeal out loud. You're trying to act cool and nonchalant.
Eddie who has no compunction about expressing how he feels practically struts his way back to his van. You stifle a giggle and know the sometime date will be soon, very soon.
❤️🫶
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Older! Sugar daddy Eddie???
Warning: includes daddy kink and dom older Eddie. When I wrote this I thought of Older!Eddie with younger reader but it isn't specified.
Eddie is older now and the band is starting to really get noticed. Once that happens, he will buy you anything you want. You don’t even have to ask for it. If he so much as hears you mention wanting something then he will make sure you have it.
It gets to the point where he just gives you his card. It’s early morning and you’re standing in the kitchen as he scrambles to get ready to go to the studio. He’s about to run out the door, but he stops to grab his wallet, pulling out his card.
“Why don’t you go and buy something nice to wear for me, yeah?” He placed the card on the countertop next to your morning cup of coffee before giving you a kiss on the cheek. He’s out the door before you can even try to protest.
You don’t go too overboard with his card. You buy a dress, heels, and a black lace lingerie set, that you knew he would die seeing you in. He is home much earlier than you expected that night. “You’re home early,” you say, hopping off the couch to greet him with a kiss.
“Made sure to end practice early. Wanted to see you sooner.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Mhmmm been dying to get home to you." He says as his hands glide along your curves. "Why don’t you show me what you bought?”
Eddie sits in front of you on the foot of the bed as you model your new dress and new heels. “It’s been awhile since I’ve bought a dress. Do you like this one? I couldn’t decide between this one and the red one I found.”
“You used daddy’s card, right?” Heat rushes to your cheeks as the nickname falls from his lips without a care.
“I-I..Yes. I did.”
“Then you should’ve bought them both, baby. I wouldn’t have minded. It’s my job to spoil you.”
“I’ll get it next time, then. Do you like this one, though?” You ask giving him a little spin.
“Of course, baby. You look gorgeous. Always so pretty for me. Did you get anything else?”
"I did get one more thing" You say teasingly as you slowly slip the dress off to reveal the lingerie set underneath. “I got this just for you, daddy.”
He groans at your words. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you princess? Lay down on the bed for me, let me reward my good girl.”
Another idea I think Eddie would be obsessed with after being able to spoil you is paying for you to get your nails done.
Eddie loves your nails so fucking much. The way they feel in his hair, or scratching down his back, the way they look against his, the way they look wrapped around his cock....
When it’s time to get a new set you make sure to go to Eddie for his opinion.
“What color should I get for my nails next, Ed?” You watch him think for a second.
“How about blood red? That’ll look really pretty.”
That’s exactly the shade you pick at the nail salon. Before you head home, though, you make a quick stop at Ulta to pick out a matching lipstick shade. You apply the lipstick in the car right before walking into the house so Eddie will see it right as you walk through the door.
“I got my nails done, made sure to do the color you suggested,” you hold out your hands in front of you to show off your nails. It took him a second, but he finally took his eyes off of your lips and looked at your hands, and when he notices his eyes widen slightly. “I liked the color so much I went out and got a matching lipstick. Don’t worry, I used your card for it, too daddy.”
Eddie takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to give your hand a kiss. “Good girl.”
It’s not long before you find yourself kneeling down in front of Eddie on the couch, feeling the rug beneath your knees. His gaze is focused on your hand as you pump his cock. Eddie's head falls back in a groan as you kiss the tip, leaving behind a smudge of lipstick.
Eddie's head doesn’t stay tipped back for long, he lifts his head just in time you watch you sink your mouth down on his cock. “Shit baby,” he groans as he watches in awe, his mouth agape as your maroon-red lips move along his cock. You take him all the way down to the base, gagging slightly as his cock hits the back of your throat.
His hand is in the back of your hair, pulling you off his cock. “You alright sweetheart?”
A string of spit is still on your lips as you blink up at him. The lipstick you have on is smeared all over your mouth. The rest of your lipstick had transferred onto the base of his cock. You nod pathetically "want you to come in my mouth, want you in my throat daddy please.”
Eddie's hand in your hair shoving you right back down onto his cock. Both of his hands collect your hair into a ponytail as he begins to fuck your throat. The size of his cock has you gagging around him. The squeeze of your throat around his length makes sinful moans leave his mouth.
“Such a good girl for your daddy--fuck doll. Taking daddy’s cock so well down your throat. Gonna make me cum. Fuck you want that don't you doll? Want me to cum down your throat?”
You let out a moan in response and Eddie is done for, spilling down your throat with broken moans. He pulls you up off of your knees and pulls you into a kiss.
Let’s just say…he's always eager to spoil his baby...in anyway he can
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queenimmadolla · 21 hours
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Could you write about the first time Penny or any of the babies reach for Eddie 🥺🥺 like the first time they really obviously want him or are excited to see him?
𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲. 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐭! :) 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭, 𝐢 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞! 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞
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Eddie was exhausted.
  Drained. Worn out. Expended. Zonked. Depleted, just plain tired.
  He was young, not even 23 years old, and today in particular, he felt like was in his late 60s. On a normal schedule, he was fine. Could roll with life and work, but his schedule was no longer a normal one. Not since you’d first found out you were pregnant.
  A baby, while precious, was an impending expense. 
  Eddie had started picking up more shifts at the garage, longer ones. Going in early, staying late.
  It was relatively amusing work, he was good at fixing cars up. Had started at the shop just changing oil and now he worked on the actual bodies, though he preferred engines more than anything; a common problem for most who brought their cars in, and an annoyance for his co-workers, so he always had plenty to do.
  The short time you and Eddie were allotted, pending Penny’s arrival, was spent squirreling money away. You’d have to go on maternity leave, and the desk job as a Lawyer’s receptionist you’d picked up after high school still paid you well on that leave, you’d just still be missing out on a portion of your normal salary since you’d only be getting about 60 to 70% of your check. 
  Regardless of the tighter than even normal budget (the two of you were also saving up to move to a bigger place, the trailer Wayne graciously let you play house in was still a one bedroom and eventually, Penny would need her own room or the two of you would have to move out to the livingroom), the first few months after Penny’s birth had been relatively smooth. She didn’t use up a whole lot of formula then, mostly breastfed or bottle fed with your supply unless the family was out and about, and there was no place for you to feed her (even then, you preferred going back to the van to nurse her solo—Eddie would get anxiety over that after an episode of a true crime documentary show) so she’d need formula.
  Now that you were back at work, standard Monday through Fridays, you couldn’t feed her like you used to, and she relied equally on your milk supply and formula so that was a hit to the budget.
  You and Eddie had worried a bit over childcare, whether you’d have to stay home or not to take care of her since daycares were so expensive. Luckily, Wayne’s girlfriend—another occupant of Forest Hills—had taken a liking to Penny. Her son had recently left the nest, gone off to college, and she craved the presence of a child, someone to need her. Uncle Wayne hadn’t been enough (nor had he been amused when Eddie jested as much), and she got on well with Penny, so she’d offered to watch her while the two of you worked like the absolute angel she was. 
  The Saint refused to take any payment and even thanked the two of you for trusting her with Penny, baffling Eddie since that meant Maude would have to take care of Penny and Wayne, who worked nights and was with her the rest of the time. Wayne, again, hadn’t appreciated the joke.
  Childcare aside, Penny was growing. And she was growing fast. Eddie had emotional and monetary whiplash with the speed of which she was outgrowing all of her clothes and going through diapers. And things like baby jumpers and playpens and strollers and car seats were expensive. The regular bills hadn’t stopped either, so while you’d gone back to work and the two of you could stay on top of everything together—Eddie didn't want to just be getting by anymore. It was fine when it had been the two of you, now he had a baby. A little human entirely dependent on him. 
  And you. She depended on you too, it’s just—maybe it was a machismo thing, Eddie didn’t fuck around with toxic masculinity, couldn’t give a shit, but he desperately wanted to provide for the two of you. Show you that you hadn’t made a mistake dating him, marrying him, having his Oopsie baby. And he didn’t want Penny growing up to worry about finances like he had.
  So, naturally, he put a shit ton of pressure on himself. He’d continued working as much as he had when you were on maternity leave—and he’d crashed. 
  You were there, though. Had talked to him, comforted him, held him through his breakdown. It was one hell of a conversation, and he’d still been stubborn about it despite the fact that he’d made himself sick from burn out, you got through to him. You were a family. Eddie wasn’t to shoulder any responsibility on his own. It was to be shared between the two of you. Your family would be just fine without Eddie working himself into an early grave. 
  You even did the math on paper (and you were bad at math so it amused him to watch you successfully prove your point after he’d had to help you with some fractions and decimals) to reassure him. 
  With his worries put to ease, you’d convinced him to take the day off. It wasn’t technically even a day off, he’d just been going in on his days off for overtime, so he was just staying home. He still could have taken Penny over to Maude’s—Eddie didn’t want to. No point when he could have his little ball of curls and rolls (which were starting to go away as she stretched out, breaking his heart) alllllllll to himself, even if she was being fussy. 
  Maybe Penny was picking up on the vibes he’d been putting out, absorbing his stress because she hadn’t gone down to bed last night without a fight. She’d woken up this morning upset, had been irritated the rest of it, and had given Eddie just as hard of a time putting her down for her afternoon nap, as she had last night.
  Yeah. Eddie was fucking wiped out. It was still better than being at work, he certainly got to relax more, even with his furious baby screaming, so he’d never complain.
  Then, Penny started screeching from her crib and Eddie let out a groan, hands dragging down his face. Sue him, he could complain a little.
  Oh, c’mon! She hadn’t even been asleep for half an hour! 
  And there was no building up to the screeching, it was like she popped those big eyes open and just decided to start wailing. 
  With a sigh, Eddie got up from the couch and rushed to the kitchen to prepare a bottle for her. She’d fought it before her nap when he offered it to her, so she had to be hungry now. With the bottle in hand, the perfect Penny-approved temperature (she was picky), he burst into his bedroom, and her sobbing intensified, mouth wide and face almost turning a different color even as he approached her.
  Her curls were curlier than normal and almost as wet as her face—she was a sleep sweater so they often matted down to her head when she snoozed. Eddie just knew she was gonna hate the sink bath he’d have to give her later if she was still in this mood by then. 
  Penny was sitting up—had recently learned to do that on her own—a constant stream of tears dribbling down both cheeks and she stared up at him, her little eyebrows furrowed in anguish. 
  “Alright, alright. I’ve got what you want, no need to hurt anyone, bitty one.” Eddie leaned down, offering the bottle to quelle her distress. She’d recently learned to hold her own bottles, too.
  Penny’s crying died down for just a few seconds, before her breathing picked back up, breaths stuttering and she let out another shriek as fat tears continued to leak out of her eyes at an even faster rate. She smacked the bottle right out of Eddie’s hand, he hadn’t been expecting it so his grip had been loose and craned her head even farther back to stare up at him, pleading, and Eddie had no idea what for.
  Was she still tired?
  Did she need to be changed? She certainly didn’t smell like it but maybe she had peed. 
  Eddie reached down into the crib to grab the bottle and her wails died down again before picking up the moment he’d pulled back and walked to his dresser to place it on. 
  “You’re gonna have to help me out here, baby, what do you want? Huh? What does my girl need?”
  Eddie was about to get her out of the crib when Penny did something she hadn’t done before. In between her sobs, with her big, beautiful eyes squinting through her tears, her little arms reached up towards him. The movement made her unstable and she wobbled on her bottom, arms still up, before she fell over onto her side and wailed harder. 
  Penny didn’t stay down for even a couple of seconds, pushing herself back up into sitting position and reaching up for Eddie again as she bawled and Eddie snapped out of his shock (every milestone she accomplished sent him into one) and reached down, hands grasping her soft sides and hoisting her up his chest. 
  Penny immediately smothered her face against his neck, Eddie could feel the wetness from her tears and drool smearing around the skin there and he rocked her gently, one hand supporting her bottom, and the other cradling her sweaty little head.
  She still cried but as he gently shushed her, Penny’s wailing lowered in volume, “Shhhh, it’s okay, baby. You just wanted daddy, huh? Just need some cuddles to make you feel better?” He pressed kiss after kiss to her head and, much to his relief, the wailing died down completely. Penny’s breathing was evening out, still a little rapid and hitching, but she was calming down.
  “Daddy’s here. Daddy’s got you.” Eddie walked away from the crib, back to the living room, picking up her bottle and her diaper bag on the way, “Daddy’s sorry he’s an idiot and didn’t realize you just wanted him. My little bitty pretty one was crying her eyes out and I have the audacity to try to feed you instead of cuddle you. Ugh. Feel free to bite me when you have teeth, sweet pea.” 
  By the time he was settling on the couch again, he was sure Penny was on the road to recovery, which made this next part worse. He winced as he slowly pulled her away from him. Penny immediately began to protest, breathing picking up as she started grunting while her arms reached for him and the moment Eddie placed her flat on the changing mat, she started wailing again, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open wide to let the world know her daddy had hurt her feelings, again, “I know, I know, daddy’s also so sorry he has to change your diaper so you don’t get a rash on your little toosh.”
  Eddie was quick with it, just as distressed as she was with their lack of contact. Once she had a clean diaper, her extra onesie (and he’d have to remember to put a new one from the dresser into the diaper bag) on, and the soiled diaper was wrapped up and set aside, he hastily picked her up, clutching her to his chest and she curled eagerly into him.
  He held her like that until she calmed again, then he got up to toss the dirty diaper and warm up her bottle again.
  With her—apparently—number one and urgent need satisfied, Eddie spread himself out on the couch with Penny in the crook of his arm, her chunky cheek pressed against his chest. This time when he offered her the bottle, she eagerly pulled it towards her and guzzled it down. 
  Eddie admired her while she drank her milk, his finger stroking over her cheeks to rid them of her tears as she stared up at him through long, wet eyelashes. Had he not been present for her fits, nor had he just wiped away the evidence of her suffering, Eddie wouldn’t have known she was upset at all. There was no resentment clouding those warm, brown eyes. No anger and Eddie’s chest tightened as he recalled just how forgiving babies were. So, innocent and just full of love.
  “You happy now, pretty one?” Eddie cooed, and at his tone, Penny smiled around the rubber nipple in her mouth, letting out her own coo in response. She didn’t stop suckling, but she removed one hand from her bottle to shakily reach up towards Eddie. Her movement was a little unstable, and Eddie watched with pure reverence until her tiny hand was against his jaw, soft palm gently smacking it.
  Then, not so gently smacking it.
  “Owwwuhh!” Eddie whined.
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lizzie-boo · 1 day
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Baby, You're My Type
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Eddie Munson x GN!Reader
Words: 804
Summary: When someone unexpected asks you on a date it brings some new information to light. And long-overdue conversations are had.
A/N: Slowly getting back into writing, I'm very rusty so please bear with me. Hope you enjoy it. I should have a few more small fics coming out in the next few days while I still have some time off.
The Hellfire club was just finishing up a section of their campaign when you burst through the door, eager to share your news. You throw yourself into an open seat, leg bouncing as you wait for Eddie to stop talking. You lean over the table, fingers tapping as you stare at your best friend. 
As soon as he closes his mouth the words were spilling out, “The funniest thing ever just happened.” 
Everyone begins packing their things and Eddie quirks a brow in your direction. When all you do is stare at him with a wide grin he gestures for you to continue. 
“Jason just asked me on a date,” you laugh as the rest of the room goes quiet. The older members of the group are quick to rush out the door not wanting to see where this conversation goes. Dustin on the other hand stops shoving papers into his backpack and settles in, ready to watch the drama. 
Lucas and Mike tug at his arms, not wanting to stick around longer than necessary. “Let’s go,” Mike hisses. His eyes darting between you and Eddie.  
"Now," Lucas urges.
“I want to see how this plays out,” Dustin whines, catching your attention. Your laughing dies as you take in the worried look of the younger group members and realize that maybe your news wasn’t as funny as you thought. 
“You should go out with him.” You whip around, eyes wide. The click of the door behind you is all you need to let you know that only you and Eddie are left to finish this conversation. 
You open and close your mouth, trying to figure out the right combination of words. Something that will get through to Eddie and let him know just how ridiculous he is being. Before you can find the words Eddie continues, “I mean you do seem excited about it.” 
Finally you stand up and make your way toward him, leaning on the table just in front of his chair.  Your fingers wrap around the edge of the table, gripping it tight. 
“I was only excited to share the news because it’s crazy and I found it funny.” 
“I don’t see what would be that funny about it.” He leans forward in his seat. The small gap between you grows smaller but neither of you back down. The smell of his cheap cologne floods your senses and for a moment you forget what you are talking about. 
“He’s not my type, not even close to my type. Everyone knows that, so it’s funny that he thought he would ever have a chance.” The way you lips quirk up at the end of your sentence is not missed by Eddie. His eyes practically glued to your lips as you speak. 
“Are you sure, he seems like he would be your type.” There’s an edge to his voice that has you gripping the table harder. How can he still think that you would be into someone like Jason when you have always made it clear that you would never be caught dead with someone that arrogant. 
You chew on your lip, contemplating if you really want to say what you’re about to. Taking a deep breath you tell Eddie, “My type is metalheads, with crazy hair, tattoos, and a love for nerdy things like dungeons and dragons.” 
He taps his fingers against the arm of his chair, pretending to think about your revelation. You scan the room, trying to find anything to hold your attention so you can avoid looking at Eddie. 
“I thought you said everyone knew your type, but I never knew that’s what you’re into.” He stands from his chair inching ever closer. His warm breath hits your face and finally you turn your gaze back to him. 
Your heart flutters as you take him in up close. Mustering all the courage in you, you tell him, “I made it painfully obvious for so long, but in case you still can’t see it this should help.” 
He quirks a brow at your cryptic words and you bunch your hands in his shirt pulling him closer. Pressing your lips into his you let out all the pent up emotion you have been holding in. His arm slips around your waist pulling you closer as his other slides up to cup your cheek. 
When you pull back, you can’t help but to smile. “In case it still wasn’t clear, you’re my type Eddie, just you.” 
“Hmm, I never would’ve guessed,” he jokes. “That’s good though, ‘cause baby, you're my type too.” 
Lifting you slightly he sets you fully on the table intent on making up for lost time. As your lips find his you wrap your legs around his waist and get lost in the happiness of finally being with Eddie.
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localemofreak · 2 days
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Got That Kinda Look To Make Me Freak.
(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)
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Based on the song:
Emo Boy - Ayesha Erotica
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‼️Warnings‼️: use of y/n, slight smut ahead, also kinda fluffy, Eddie is a slightly awkward mf, etc. (if I forgot anything please tell me!)
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It was a nice Saturday day- and you had decided to head off to the mall, thinking it would be nice to walk around and shop at some of your favorite stores.
As you walked around the mall- that’s when you saw him.
You watched this stranger from a slight distance- he was in a cute little candle shop (wayne probably forced him to get a candle- nasty ass 💀) but he stood out like a sore thumb in there as he stood by the front window of the store.
You watched as he just picked random candles up, sniffing them before quickly placing them back down.
He had long brown wavy hair, he was wearing an Iron Maiden shirt, ripped black jeans, a leather jacket with a denim vest on top of it, the denim vest had a bunch of different pins and patches- honestly bad ass, and he also had some white Reebok's on.
You couldn't forget the million accessories on him, which you noticed first when he grabbed a candle- those rings on his fingers, they looked so cool- they definitely weren't normal rings you could buy in a Walmart.
But one thing that you knew for sure- man, was he hot..
After a moment of standing there, gawking at the random young man, you decided to walk into the candle shop while also starting a small argument with yourself in your head.
You just glanced around, looking at different candles before you finally grew some balls to head over to where the mystery metalhead was standing, looking confused as fuck while scanning through different candles.
"Need some help?-" you offered with a small giggle, he just turned his head- his eyes widened slightly as he saw you, it was obvious he was little taken away by you.
"Oh, uh, yeah- I just, don't know which one is the best.." he said, stumbling around with his words while holding a candle in his hand- you just giggled at his slight awkwardness, it was cute.
"Well- if you don't want your room to smell all girly and like flowers I suggest not the one in your hand." You giggled, pointing to the 'rose and lavender' candle he was holding in his hand.
He just looked down at the candle for a second and quickly put it back, his cheeks tinted pink from embarrassment.
"Oh shit- sorry.." he mumbled, giving a slight awkward chuckle as you shook your head and giggled a little bit more, deciding to pick up a candle that smelt like apple pie.
"No need to apologize- here, this one looks like it would fit you." You said, handing him the candle with a small smile on your face.
He picked his head up to reveal his brown doe eyes and the blush on his cheeks.
Oh god he was so dreamy.
"thanks.." he said, slowly taking the candle from you- his fingers also brushing against yours which caused a slight shiver to run down your spine.
"I'm y/n." You said- you decided to introduce yourself, thinking it would be nice- he just smiled softly and nodded his head, holding the candle in his hand.
"Eddie. Nice to meet you." He said, offering his hand out to shake- you glanced down at his hands and ring covered fingers for a small moment before shaking his hand.
Even after you shook it, you two just held hands for a good second while looking into each other eyes.
-TIME SKIP-
It felt like so much happened in just the matter of seconds, even though it was hours.
Currently, you were in Eddie's trailer- the candle you gave him that he bought was now lit on his messy bedside table.
And you and him?- you were both laying in his bed, naked, his mouth was attached to yours as he hovered over you and made out with you.
His lips muffled the moans that fell from your lips as he thrusted into you with such ease, and god weren't you enjoying every second of it.
Some crazy shit must have happened at the mall for the rest of your day to end up like this- having sex with the town's local freak in his bed.
He continued to sloppily make out with you, his thrusts sloppily and deep that indicated he was getting closer- and you were too.
Your arms were wrapped around his neck, your legs wrapped around his waist- his body was covered in sweat but it was hot.
Your nails dug into his back, leaving behind marks as you felt your stomach tighten before you finally released- causing you to let out the most gut wrenching, intense moan into his mouth.
He quickly followed behind you, thrusting faster and deeper until he came inside you- his head fell into your neck as he let out a loud moan, his voice cracking as he let it out but that just made it even hotter.
His sweat covered body collapsed on top of you as you and him just laid there, collecting your thoughts real quick- you swore you were seeing stars the second you opened your eyes.
Finally, he slowly pulled out of you and slowly got up, grabbing a random piece of clothing off his messy bedroom floor to clean you up with before he collapsed next to you, pulling the covers over you and him.
His bangs were attached to his forehead thanks to the sweat and his tattoos glistened slightly- you just slowly turned your numb body to lay against his chest, his arm wrapping around you.
"That candle smells nice." He mumbled, a tired chuckle escaping his lips as you just playfully rolled your eyes and dug your head into the crook of his neck to hide your giggle.
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eddiesxangel · 3 days
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Take Me to the Lakes Master List
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Summery: This summer was suppose to be the summer to work at your favourite place in the world with your best friend. But things take a turn when it isn’t your best friend you end up working with.
CW: camp AU, counsellor!eddie x f!camp counsellor reader, popular!reader, 18+ content, drinking, weed consumption, angst, eventual smut, fluff, reader and Eddie are in their 20’s.
Part 1 Part 2
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lis-likes-fics · 2 days
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Princess II
Pairings: Eddie Munson x rich!Reader Word Count: 18k words Warnings: Slow burn, swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, strangers to best friends to lovers... A/N: This was so much fun to write. It took like....over a year to finish this two-parted but it's done and I love them so much. They're literally idiots. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Thank you! (And a special thanks to my beta reader, you're amazing!)
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The months pass smoothly, and soon you've been incorporated into aspects of Eddie's life that you've dreamt of for years.
It started with you ditching the cheerleading squad at lunch to go sit with Eddie and his friends. They were so sweet to you, if not a little flirty. Dustin was always eager to see you at lunch, showing off his intelligence or quick-wit any chance he got. He was all smiles, treating you like his cool aunt who got him just about anything he asked for because you liked to spoil him.
Mike was also excited, but he was also a little more open to accepting gifts and things from you. But he was the middle child in his family, so you kind of expected it.
Gareth, Fred, and Jeff all had similar reactions. Though Fred was more skeptical of having a girl like you in the group, you were easy to warm up to. Gareth and Fred constantly flirted with you, but you suspect they did it more for Eddie's annoyance than yours. You warmed up to them.
But Eddie.
The first day you went to sit with them, he'd made one of his buddies get up and move so you could sit next to him. It was a complete change in fondness, like his comfortability to you had skyrocketed to the other end of his kindness.
He included you in every chat, asked questions that weren't awkward but let him and the group get to know you. You really felt comfortable there, like one of them. You expected to feel a little off, but you didn't. They were so kind.
Everyone sneered for a while. The first couple of days were full of glares and snickers from those of other tables. But the longer you sat there, the less people cared. Whatever. You could do what you want, you're the princess. Eddie's comments on how people pick on him and his friends dwindled, though it never fully disappeared.
The squad wasn't so happy, not that you cared. They talked about it to your face and behind your back. It always got back to you of course, Chrissy kept you updated.
You actually managed to pull Chrissy a couple of times to sit with you and Eddie. She enjoyed it just as much as you.
Soon you started joining them during their campaigns. You just sat out and watched at first, serving as their cheerleader, until Eddie pulled you in by your waist, sat you down next to him like you always do now, and let you join in as any character of your choosing. You were an orc named Bill.
The longer you were friends with Eddie, the closer you got, and you loved every second. You went from sitting at his lunch table to playing campaigns with him to regularly going to his house (to the point where you could walk in and Wayne would wave and point down the hall where Eddie sat in his room) to spending just about every day glued to his side, his inseparable friend.
Eddie had always wanted a friend like that, though he'd never admit it, adamant on maintaining his reputation as a freakish outsider who didn't need anyone, who adopted all the other losers into his band of rejects.
He'd always wanted someone who loved spending that much time with him. He's way more happy than he'd like to admit that you haven't gotten tired of him yet.
Spring break comes and goes. You spend the whole of it with Eddie, except for the one day your parents decided to take you to one of the charity events in town. You spent the whole of it with Chrissy in a pretty dress that Eddie said he liked—considering she was in the same class as you and your parents were close friends.
You learned a lot of things over the time you spent as Eddie's friend.
You learned that every time he's asked what his favorite color is, he says black or red just to be edgy when, really, it's baby blue.
You learned that he loves pizza, he could finish an entire pie by himself in under ten minutes. Then he'd smile at you with his face covered in pizza sauce and you'd feel like you were going to puke, you're so in love.
He claims to be ambidextrous, but you've seen his left-handed penmanship and there's nothing ambidextrous about it. He likes loud, thundering music, but you've seen him turn into a softy from the slow, quiet kinds you never thought he'd be into. He lifts sometimes, revealing to you how lean he actually was when you walked in on him shirtless in his room once with weights in his hands.
You'd left the room to recuperate. He'd teased you about it for weeks.
He's terrible at math but he's a decent writer, he's a nice singer—and you melt every time you hear him sing, no matter the genre—he can draw, he can read three different books in one week, he cannot cook, but he can boil the hell out of some water. Wayne was very happy when you showed up in Eddie's life and started cooking for them.
You watched him learn the entirety of Metallica's new song, Master of Puppets, in under a month.
Choosing to become Eddie's friend was a terrible decision in only one way: every single day, he gives you more and more reason to fall deeper in love with him. Your heart is so full, you think you'll die.
You don't know if Eddie knowing that you like him is better or worse. On one hand, he knows he definitely has the option if he really wants it. On the other, he doesn't know just how much you have fallen and him being him tears you apart from the inside out.
But if this is the closest you'll get to him, you'll gladly burn inside just to get the chance to hold his hand.
~
After pulling up in front of your house, Eddie opens your door like a gentleman so you can make him study for a test he had that you knew he wouldn't do otherwise. He slung your bag over one shoulder, grabbing his own to do on the other side.
"Wait!" you tell him as he's slamming the door. You rush inside, smiling wide as you disappear into the house. Eddie follows you, taking his sweet time about it. You're already running down the stairs as he reaches the door after finally walking the length of your huge driveway.
You come out with your hands behind your back, smiling too big for your face as you look at him. He raises a brow, dropping both your backpacks inside by the door and leaning to the side. His knee pops out, making him look as sassy as he probably feels.
"Another gift?" he asks, almost exasperated as he recognizes that sticky sweet smile on your face. He loves it but the amount of gifts you shower him with is insane sometimes.
"Are you trying to buy my love or something?" he teases. "Is this a bribe, Princess?" He lifts his brow ridiculously high and lowers his voice ridiculously low, as if talking in secret.
You roll your eyes at his theatrics. "Don't be ridiculous," you shake your head. "It's a gift."
He shrugs a shoulder. "Same difference."
You scoff. "Shut up and close your eyes." He makes a teasing snort but does as he's told. You bite the very tip of your lip. "Hold out your hands." He does it.
You pull the long, yellow envelope from behind your back, tied with a thin white ribbon to make the most exaggerated bow he'd ever see. You watch his brows change at the feeling of the paper in his hands, curiosity leaking out.
"Now open."
He does. Looking down at the envelope, he raises a brow and stares at it, as though it would open on command. He fingers the glued down flap of the letter and glances at you with hesitant eyes. "What is this?"
He pulls the glue free and begins to pull out two, just as long, slips of laminated paper. Looking up at you, he can see how bubbly you were with the excitement to show him your latest gifts. Or "bribes", as he liked to call them—all out of good fun!... you think.
The words pour from your lips. "Two backstage tickets to Metallica next week!" You bring it back once the biggest part of the reveal was said. "They're on tour, and I know you like them."
He stares at you with wide eyes, but he doesn't smile. You wait for his grateful reply for a while before what you are met with is a loud, "What?"
Your excitement turns to shivering fear as you stare, worried. "Is it the wrong band?" Suddenly, all the worst scenarios you worried about come to mind. "Shit, did I mess up?" You start mumbling to yourself. "I know I checked and then double checked. Maybe the tickets are wrong. Fuck, what did I do—?"
He stops you with his heavy hands on your shoulders, weighing you down but also providing a lot of comforting warmth as he looks you in the eye with the same level of intensity. "You got me V.I.P. tickets to see Metallica perform?"
"In Indianapolis, yes."
He stares at you a moment longer before he's shoving you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you and keeping you flush against his body. The hug is warm and enveloping and much too close for friendship, and you hug him back just as closely, almost feeling as though you could cry of how wonderful it felt to have his scent all around you, his arms around your waist, his crazy hair tickling your face and shoulders.
After a beat too long, he's hoisting you off your feet and spinning you in a circle that has your body flying for a moment. He sets you down as you're both giggling, and when he pulls back to see you, his lips are set in the biggest smile you have ever seen. The breath is knocked from your lungs as you stare wide-eyed at him, and whatever was left slips out when his thumbs smooth circles along your sides as his hands stay set on your waist.
"You are fucking amazing," he says too fondly.
You gaze warmly at him, feeling your heart skipping too many beats. You need to go to the hospital.
Then his whole demeanor changes once more as his face drops into near frustration. "And extravagant," he adds suddenly. "Why the fuck did you get these for me?"
You honestly expected his hands to leave you by now, but they stayed at your sides with the envelope held between his fingers. You set your hands on his arms, shrugging as you smile earnestly.
"For us," you say, hoping not to scare him away with that. "Because I wanted to do something special for you. You deserve it."
Eddie doesn't know what he's done to deserve something as special as this, but he just smiles down at it with the joy of a little boy getting a dog he's been wanting all his life for his birthday. You hear him curse under his breath.
"I gotta go tell Wayne," he beams. He scoops you into his arms again, squeezing tighter this time as he laughs happily, his elation infecting you. He sets you down, looking over your face. He's moving and speaking faster than you think he thinks he is, but it just makes you smile some more.
"Ah, I fuckin' love you. I'll see you later!" He tears away from you, turning around and sprinting toward his van to drive haphazardly down the road to get back to his uncle. He's waving at you through the window as he pulls away.
Meanwhile, you stand at the door with wide eyes and stilled breath, frozen on the porch. His words replay in your head like a mantra, like a prayer that you've been waiting for as you smile a little.
"He loves me," you sigh. Then you shake your head, hoping not to be as delusional as you feel. "Just a figure of speech..." you chew your lip, "probably..." you furrow your brows, "most likely."
You sigh as you shake and bow your head. "I'm talking to myself again."
You turn on your heel and set a course down the sidewalk, walking a few houses down with fast feet and an even quicker beating heart. Four doors down, you come up the path to Chrissy's house and start repeatedly pounding on the door, because it was more dramatic than letting yourself in.
You hear her as she approaches the door because she yells, "Y/N, I'm coming!"
The door opens and Chrissy stands on the other side with a raised brow and a sigh. She sees you standing there with your conflicted look as she furrows her brow. "What happened?"
You walk past her, venturing into the house and walking right up the stairs as she follows behind you, unphased as she closes the door. "I gave the tickets to Eddie."
"And?" she asks as she follows you up the stairs.
"He loved them," you say over your shoulder, shrugging. "He was, like, super excited."
She smiles wide, her whole face lights up. "That's great!"
You get to the top of the stairs on your way to her room, stopping at one of the doors prior and knocking gently before pushing it open. "Hi, Carter."
The boy looks at you and smiles wide, waving his hand as he returns his greeting. You smile back and close the door, instantly falling back into your contemplation as you burst into Chrissy's room and plopped down at the edge of her bed.
"So," she prompts. "Is it a date?"
You furrow your brow, granting her a confused look. "What? No, don't be ridiculous."
She rolls her eyes, "Right..."
"But he..." you trail off, chewing on your lower lip as you keep thinking to yourself, replaying the moment over and over and over again with the over-analysis of a skilled theorist.
"What?" she asks, urging you to finally spit it out.
"He, like," you look at her and release your lip in favor of speaking as you try and fail not to smile at the memory—as though it was a cherished thing that had been living in your brain for years. She follows the loose narration your hands give as you speak. "He picked me up and spun me around and said something about telling his uncle, and then..."
You hesitate to say it, hiding your face a little behind your hands. Chrissy sighs heavily, playfully impatient with your slowly developing, weird relationship with Eddie. "What? What did he do?"
You blush and smile too wide. Your face hurts. "He said 'I fuckin' love you', and then drove off." You're suddenly really giddy. "He said he fuckin' loves me!" You beam at Chrissy before quickly backtracking. "I know it was probably just a figure of speech or something, right? Like, he doesn't actually love me, he was just super happy. Heat of the moment. Right?"
This left your mouth as a word vomit and, honestly, Chrissy just watched you with a wide range of emotions crossing her face. Confusion, joy, passive frustration, hints of awaiting sarcasm...
She shrugs a shoulder, sitting next to you on the bed and attempting to soothe your scorching nerves. "I mean, probably, but you spend so much time together... who knows," she smiled wide suddenly, "maybe he's coming around."
Your grin is hopeful, your eyes glisten as you smile at her and she smiles wider and chuckles at the look. "You think so?"
"Sure!" she exclaims, eager to get you to the optimistic side of things.
"Maybe you're right," you nod to assure yourself, hoping that saying it out loud will bring it into existence. "Maybe you're right." You breathe in and out and sit up straight, nodding once more before you turn your gaze to Chrissy again. You take her hands in yours and squeeze gently. "The concert's next week, I need you to help me get ready."
"Absolutely," she beams. "You couldn't pay me not to help."
You wrap your arms around her neck and pull her into a bone-crushing hug. Chrissy, a native to your affection, takes it with an excited laugh and no acknowledgement to your strength.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"Of course," she smiles, before pulling out of your arms and waving a playfully scolding finger at your face. "But you owe me."
You shrug. "I always do." You think for a moment. "We'll get lunch and go to the mall. Check out that store you like. An outfit of your choice, my treat."
"Deal," she said immediately. Rolling her eyes and smiling, she sighs dreamily. "I love leeching off rich people."
You roll your own eyes, not as dreamily. "You're also rich, Chris."
She shrugs, letting her shoulders sag lazily at her sides like a ragdoll. "I know, but you're my bitch."
You gasp dramatically. "Christina Elizabeth Cunningham! You watch your language."
She snorts. "Bitch, please."
You shove her back onto the bed and start for her kitchen. You're hungry and you're sure she hasn't eaten yet...
~
You close your locker with a snap. As you look up, you notice Tommy H on the other side, staring you down with an unimpressed look upon his face. You can see the rest of his group surrounding his locker to peer into the conversation, looking like a flock of pigeons—all bulgy eyes and flicking heads.
You sigh internally and turn to him, smiling as sweetly as you always do. "Hey, Tommy." You check your watch quickly.
"Hi," he says back, feeling slick.
You move your bag from your side to place your science books in, glancing at him as you do it. "Is there something I can help you with? I gotta get to class."
He leans his shoulder against the wall, crossing one leg over the other and stuffing his hands in the pockets of his lettermen. He shrugs his shoulders heavily, and your eyes fall on his Class of '85 patch—where it should now read '86 after an unfortunate grade point average in his last, slacked off year.
"You're hanging out with Munson now?" He raises a brow.
You sling your bag back over your shoulder. "Yeah?" You raised your brow, failing to see his point. "Is that supposed to be a problem or something?"
"I mean..." he trails off, laughing lightly like it's obvious. You just stare at him, almost looking clueless as he stumbles over his words to try and come up with an argument. He shrugs, "It's Munson."
You make a face. He scoffs.
"I mean, you seriously blew off a game for him?"
Oh. That makes more sense.
You've been hanging out with Eddie for months, and they haven't commented that much because you could do whatever you wanted because you... well, you're you.
But you did kiss the game last night. It wasn't a really serious one—at least, you don't think it was—and Eddie had a huge campaign he practically begged you to go to, and you accepted because you loved his campaigns way more than a stupid game (that, and the fact that you're head over heels in love with him). You told Chrissy, she covered for you.
You shrug. "We lost the game."
He scrambled for a comeback. "Yeah? Well, maybe we wouldn't have if you had been there. It's called moral support sweetheart."
You straighten your back and try not to make a face, continuing to remain friendly as you close your eyes. "First of all, don't call me that." He shrugs. "Second, there will be more games and more hangouts and whatever else. I'm hanging out with Eddie Munson, so what? He's my friend."
He scowls. "He's Eddie Munson."
You make a face, confusion raising your brow and lip. You pause, waiting for a follow-up. "You say that like it's supposed to prove a point."
Tommy scoffs. "Okay, how about this?" He towers over you, his elbow propped high up on your locker in an attempt to intimidate you. His red-freckled face is stern. "He's a freak."
He nearly spits the word in your face, and he smirks when he does it.
You tilt your head and smile.
"How about this..." You clear your throat and brush imaginary lint from his lettermen. "If you call Eddie a freak one more time," you look up at his face again, smiling a little sweeter and speaking a little slower, "I will personally see to it that my parents stop inviting yours to our parties."
His face pales.
"You'll be moved to our blacklist. From there, people will stop respecting you. And, by then, you'll be scrambling to get back in with us, and you'll look desperate doing it." Your eyes darken but your smile is perfectly intact as you watch his fear overcome him.
"I'll work you so far to the bottom that even the name Munson will hold less disdain in this town than Hagan." Your smile drops. You look cold.
"Do I make myself clear?"
He swallows thickly, finding his voice again after cracking on his first attempt. "Yeah." He clears his throat. "Yes."
"Great!" You clap once as you smile brightly once more. The warning bell cracks loudly, echoing through the halls with a shrill screech. Both you and the bell startle him as he flinches, sighing heavily as you pat your shoulder twice. "Thank you. Don't be late for class."
He hesitates, shaking his head and walking away to rejoin his posse pretending to not have been listening in to the conversation. "Yeah," he mumbles as you watch him leave.
"That was scary."
You turn and smile wide when you see Eddie, leaning on the lockers with an impressed look. "I can be very scary," you joke.
"Tell me about it." He rolls his eyes, and you lightly smack his shoulder at the insinuation. You both start walking down the hall to your shared science class. "What was that about?"
You glance over your shoulder to where Tommy and his friends are walking away, throwing half-hearted scowls at Eddie over their shoulders.
"Oh," you say, smiling to yourself almost maliciously. You shock Eddie for a moment with the brief look. "Just a little... nudge in the right direction."
His whole demeanor changes as he turns his body to face you, walking still as his feet side step to keep up with you. "Did you just threaten Tommy H for me?"
"'Course," you smile. "We're friends, Eddie, and I protect my friends... even if that means destroying social lives forever."
He sighs a laugh. "Startin' to think you like destroying social lives."
You both walk into class together just as the bell rings, moving to your seats as you lean in and whisper dramatically. "Only when they're assholes."
He gasps, clutching his imaginary pearls. "Has her majesty just spoiled her tongue with the dirty language of the peasants?" he exclaims quietly in his best posh, British accent.
"I'm afraid she has," you play along in an accent of your own, though it's not as perfect as his. He's got an impeccable accent. "It can be quite hard to keep one's tongue guarded when met with the incompetence of the lower class, or even that of the upper."
He snorted, "Then, forgive me, my liege. I shall do my best to keep you away from the clutches of the incompetent."
You both laugh quietly amongst yourselves.
"Remind me never to get on your bad side," he snorts again, shaking his head with a seeking shudder.
You wink at him. "Never get on my bad side."
You direct your attention to the teacher. Eddie watches the side of your face and laughs again, shaking his head and readjusting after spending too much time taking in the sight of the side of your face.
You're pretty. He hopes he never gets on your bad side.
~
With Chrissy out with Jason, you have no one to calm your nerves as the time for Eddie to come pick you up grows closer. You've already dressed in the clothes you both picked out, she'd done your makeup before she had to leave, and you're walking around your room in your heels as you await his arrival.
You check yourself in the mirror one last time before the sound of your doorbell echoes through the house. You grab your stuff faster than you've ever done anything in your life, rushing down the stairs dangerously fast in your heels and throwing the front door open before your father's hand can even brush the handle.
Upon seeing you answer, he decides to walk away. Whatever you want...
You open the door and smile wide at Eddie, ignoring how nervous you feel at the sight of yourself. You feel sort of...out of place. This isn't your vibe but you are hoping he likes it anyway.
Eddie's eyes bulge and his mouth drops open.
He takes you in. Dressed head to toe in leather, he eyes your little red skirt and your black bustier top decorated with red roses. It looks so tight, he wonders how you're still able to breathe. You've got a garter belt wrapped tightly around your thigh, just peeking out from under your skirt, in more black leather. In knee high platforms, you've gone up a couple more inches in height. Even your makeup, with sharp wings, a tiny eyeliner heart on the apple of your cheek, and red lipstick a dark shade of blood.
Eddie feels like he just fell fifty feet and smacked his face on concrete, knocking all the air from his lungs and making it impossible to breathe. You are drop dead gorgeous.
"Wow."
You don't take it as well as he expected, nerves sinking in as you look over yourself quickly, wiping your hands down the skirt. "Too much?"
He shakes his head. "You look..." he trails off, lost in thought before shaking his head to bring himself back, "great. Really great."
You take it for what it is and smile. "Thanks," you blush. "Chrissy helped. You don't look half bad yourself."
And you mean it. He's in nearly as much leather as you. With black leather pants that cling to his body like chains, lacing running up the sides that seem to make them even tighter, he looks like a rockstar in his old Metallica muscle tee (the one where the logo is so faded, you can hardly see it).
You're not surprised to see his leather jacket and his battle vest, nor are you to see him wearing his own eyeliner, an extra edge you've seen during his concerts at the Hideout—though yours is admittedly done better. His hair is frizzier than ever, a look you tried to copy as well as you could but believe you fell short on (Eddie thinks your aces).
Eddie shakes his head. "Wow," he mumbles again, more breathless this time.
"You said that already."
"My bad," he says, not meaning it.
You shake your head and smile sweetly. "No, it's nice."
After staring again for too long, he clears his throat and smiles again, returning to his stupid antics that make you laugh constantly, like you've gone insane.
"You ready to go?" he asks.
"Yeah." You turn and yell into the house, cupping your hands around your mouth as you do it. "Bye, Daddy! Bye, Mom!"
Your mother's voice calls back, "Be back by sundown."
"What your mother said," says your father.
You close the door and walk with Eddie. "Uhm," he says. "We will not be back by sundown."
"It doesn't matter," your shrug. "They say it more as a courtesy. They'll forget I'm even gone."
"Ah," he mutters, though you don't seem too fazed by it. Almost like this is the norm for you. Maybe it is...
He takes you to his van, opening your door like a gentleman and loading you in. He hops into his own seat, slamming his door extra hard because it's been pretty stubborn lately.
As soon as he starts the engine, his music blares through the speakers, "Holy Diver" by Dio. You flinch, shocked by the sound but not upset. He immediately goes to turn it down, and once he's dialed it one way, you dial it the other.
Eddie looks over at you, your head already banging to the music as you rock enthusiastically in your seat. He stares at you, his parted lips curling in a grin. He thinks you're amazing.
"Are we going?" you ask half-jokingly when you catch him staring, speaking so loud you nearly blow your vocal chords trying speak over the music. You poke his side.
He over-exaggerates, recoiling in on himself and flailing back against his window like he'd been shot. You roll your eyes. And he lays there for a while, really dragging it out until you lightly smack his shoulder. The music blares.
"Eddie!"
"Ow– Hey!" he exclaims, even though you barely touched him.
You shake your head. "Drive."
"Okay, bossy," he says. He turns the music down just a bit and starts down the road. It's still loud, and your parents might get a complaint, but it's unlikely because the neighbors would be too afraid of offending them.
He nods lightly to the music, turning it down another smudge to ask, "You hungry?" He looks at you with his big doe eyes. He's going to give you a hernia.
"Not much," you shrug. "You?"
He also shrugs, tapping the fingers of his left hand on the wheel. He leans on his right arm rest, glancing over at you. "I'm always down for food," he winks. "But we could probably wait 'til we get there."
"If you wanna eat, we can."
He shakes his head. "Nag, we'll have a shit ton of free time. We'll be, like," he checks the time, "three hours early."
You snort. He's usually three hours late.
"Okay," you nod. You turn to him, smiling. "Oh, we could check out this new place my parent's friend's daughter told me about."
He laughs lightly, "Is she not your friend?"
You shrug a shoulder. As far as your friendships go, you recognize you don't really have many. Chrissy is the love of your life, as you tell her constantly, but she's the only person you've held close to your heart for years.
But your parents are rich. Their friends' kids are supposed to be your friends, but you've never acclimated to that thinking.
"Eh," you mumble. "We don't really consider ourselves friends, we just know each other." Her parents are also rich, and she's within the same category as you.
He hums. "Yeah, we can check it out." He sets his hand closer to yours, his pinky brushing yours. To avoid seeming too intimate, not wanting to complicate the friendship you've created, he wraps his pinky with yours and shakes it around.
Not intimate, just friendly.
"Is it fancy?"
You shake your head. "Not really." I squeeze his finger, grabbing his hand in both yours and forming his to lace your fingers together. "My parents and their rich friends spoil me with expensive stuff all the time, so I like the cheaper stuff a little more."
You purse your lips, looking away from your hands to look at his face. "But I don't like telling people that because I feel like I sound bratty."
He shakes his head. "Nah, you're not bratty." He lets go of your hand and lightly nudges the side of your face with his palm. You snort, swatting his hand away. "You're just bossy."
"Shut up," you laugh.
His face lights up at the proof of him being right. "See?" he laughs. "You're bossy. You're so bossy!"
You roll your eyes at him, "If you weren't driving, I'd hit you."
His eyes widen. "You're violent," he accuses. "You're violent now!"
You groan loudly, turning away from him with the most exaggeration you can manage. He laughs loudly. It's a ridiculous guffaw, and you feel the van swerve a little. You're so used to his driving by now, though, that it doesn't faze you.
When his laughter dies down and you're urge to burst into your own fit of giggles eases with it, he sighs dramatically to announce the end of his joke. "So," he hums, "if I gave you the choice to go someplace fancy with the best steak in town or a McDonald's," he leans toward you, tearing his eyes from the road at a stoplight to look at you, "what are you picking?"
You let a slow smile spread across your lips as you look at his stupid face with his stupid eyes and his stupid nose, and his stupid lips. You chuckle lightly, taking him in some more. "Well, you can't beat those nuggets."
He laughs again, still just as loud and dramatic as the first one. You love it, and you can't help but to laugh with him this time.
"No, you can't." He smiles at you, staring at your face a little longer than he probably should.
Eddie jumps when a loud honk interrupts his examination. Turning to the light, he sees that it is a very bright green. "Shit," he curses under his breath as he steps on the gas.
The van jolts, but your gaze lingered on him too long to notice. A slip of anxiety creeps up on you as a thought flashes behind your eyes. You hook your finger through one of the holes in your fishnets. You lean on your armrest. "Was that your way of asking me out, or am I dreaming?" You say it with enough amusement coloring your voice that it gives you the option to back out of it as a joke as soon as it is required.
And it was required.
"Fast asleep, Princess," he smiles, chuckling lightly as his eyes stay on the road in front of him. You ignore the stutter in your heart, covering your disappointment with a chuckle of your own and roll your eyes.
"Playing hard to get, huh?" you joke, trying not to be too sad about his lack of falling in love with you. You've still got him, even if you don't have him in your arms.
Eddie's fingers reach for the dashboard as he turns up the radio, turning the heavy rock up louder and louder. "What?" he shouts over the music, drowning your giggles in the song (though he can still hear them because he's listening very specifically for them). "I can't hear you over the music. What did you say?"
You smack his shoulder, giddy with his jokes. "Asshole!" you exclaim, crossing your arms in a faux pout. You both laugh out loud, big and dramatic and happy to be there. And as he turns down the radio before he blows your precious eardrums, he finds himself oddly tender with the sound of your joy. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel as he has to breathe a little more to steady his traitor of a heart.
~
You're nearly late, despite arriving there a whole hour early. Eddie had found a McDonald's and got so caught up in taking you that you both lost the time. You were in the middle of wiping Sweet N Sour sauce off his face when you realized it on the hands of your watch.
You almost got pulled over twice.
But you get there just as the lights are dimming. It's a huge opener—guitars and drums and screaming vocals, fans cheering and crying, headbanging and jumping and a couple of already too-drunk patrons puking in the back.
Eddie is ecstatic. He loves every part of it—the screaming, the crying, the puking. He takes it all in stride and stands really close to you as he does it.
He keeps looking at your face. Through the haze of flashing lights and so much excitement his heart might stop, he keeps looking at your face. You're really pretty, dressed in his style, smiling like a maniac, dancing to his music.
He was so scared you would hate it, this scene, his scene. He was scared you were going to show up and stand uncomfortably, smile in that people-pleasing way and bear through it until it was over.
But you don't.
You're beautiful. You glow under the lights, you're wonderful as you dance and sway and headbang to hell.
You keep smiling at him. You keep grabbing his hands and jumping to the beat of the music, and he jumps with you and he holds your hands. He can't help but adore you.
Part of him hopes it doesn't stick. He's not sure he could handle his heart beating this fast.
By the time the concert is over, you're both sweaty and hyped and tired but so happy. You both flash your VIP passes—you more confidently than him—and rush backstage with all the other VIPs.
He's buzzing with excitement as his sweaty hand shakes that of each member of the band. He does it wide-eyed, gleaming and entirely unbelieving. If his other hand was gripping yours, he'd think this was a dream.
A really freaky, amazing dream.
You both get shirts, personal autographs, and a lifelong experience that you load into his van with buzzing and heavy limbs. He helps you in, closing your door like a gentleman, and you slump against your seat.
Eddie gets in, slamming his door shut because it's a little stubborn. He starts the engine and turns the radio down all the way to a gentle background hum.
He doesn't turn his eyes toward you until he's pulled out of the insanity that is leaving the parking lot. When he glances over at you, you're asleep.
He'd wanted to thank you.
You're really pretty like this: eyes delicately closed, lips slightly parted. Granted, you're always pretty.
He has to look away before his chest starts hurting again.
Fuck.
He looks away from you quickly, gripping the wheel to get a handle on himself. He didn't mean to do this, to like you. Being friends was one thing, becoming best friends was another...
But actually starting to like you...
He isn't supposed to. You don't live in his world. He doesn't live in yours. More than that...
Actually, he's not sure. He just knows that... he wasn't supposed to begin liking you. His feelings for you were supposed to remain platonic.
But now he's not so sure.
There are a couple things he's sure of though.
You're beautiful, dressed like a metalhead or a cheerleader, you're beautiful. And he adores you, inside and out. And he wants you to know that.
~
"Hey, Princess."
You turn, giving Eddie a wide smile as he walks up to your locker. He's got his hand behind his back in an obvious, and you laugh at that as you adjust your bag on your shoulder. "Hi, Eddie."
He leans on your locker, nervous and proud at the same time as he smiles. His hair is freshly washed—still damp and curly with conditioner. It'll be fully frizzed by the end of the day, you know it.
"I got you something. Well, I made you something," he says. "Close your eyes." You do as you're told, smiling as you do. "Give me your hand."
You're almost giddy as you lift it, presenting it to him. He sets something in your palm. It's light, your brows furrow.
"Okay, open."
You do, looking at your palm. Your smile falls a little as you look at it. A bracelet made with black leather, braided together with a few little silver beads woven in. You look at the silver charm. A skull with a crown on it.
He made this himself.
"Eddie..." You swallow thickly, blinking quickly so you aren't crying your mascara off. People don't do things like this for you—no one but Chrissy.
"Do you hate it?" There's an anxiety there that kick-starts your heart. He braces himself for a 'yes' before you have to remind him that you're you, and you're deeply in love with him.
"I love it," you urge him, using your best smile to convince him of that fact. "It's beautiful."
Hope sparks in his eyes. He smiles a bit. "Really?"
"Yeah!" you promise. "I'll wear it forever."
You shove it in his hand, and he immediately understands your request without you even having to ask. You hold out your wrist as he fastens the bracelet on. It's a perfect fit.
You coo as you look at it. "I really love this, Eddie..." Then suddenly, "Oh! This reminds me. I got this for you–"
"No, no," he stops you, holding out a hand as you reach into your locker. "This was a gift. I'm gifting this to you."
You slump slightly, your smile falling into a confused frown as you sigh. "But..." you fiddle with the charm, "I wanna pay you back."
He shakes his head, not unkindly. "No need. I technically owe you a lot, I'm sure those tickets were expensive as hell."
You're feeling a little...nervous. No one refuses gifts from you, ever—except Chrissy, when they're really excessive. But this isn't. It's just an Iron Maiden vinyl record, one of those limited addition ones you have to really look for.
Your parents had bought it a while back at an auction because a lot of people were bidding on it. But it just sits in a case in the living room collecting dust—they don't listen to that kind of music. They only got it because a lot of people wanted it.
Eddie would like it. He'd appreciate it...
"But–"
"No buts," he says, his tone final. "Let me do this for you."
You pull your hand away from your locker, sighing. You nod slowly, offering a weak smile. "Okay..."
This isn't the last time that happens. Through the next few weeks, Eddie keeps declining your gifts. You try to give him the record, but before you can even get the words "I got you something" past your lips, he's telling you that you don't need to get him anything and giving you his own gift instead.
You feel like you've done something wrong.
He's giving you a lot of gifts. It's becoming harder and harder to accept them, but you couldn't stand refusing one of the presents he's made specially or used hard-earned money on for you. You couldn't do that to him, it would break his heart. But...
It's a lot of gifts. And he isn't even letting you repay the favor to make it even.
There's a problem. You just don't know what. So you do the only thing you can do.
You ask Chrissy.
You walk up the steps to Chrissy's house, pushing the door open and heading straight up the stairs.
"Hello, Y/N," Chrissy's father calls, not lifting his eyes from his newspaper.
"Hi, Mr. Cunningham." You go down the hall, barging through Chrissy's door and closing it tightly behind you. She steps out of her closet, her brows furrowed as she looks at you. Though she's unsurprised.
She does this to you almost as often as you do to her, though you have admittedly more drama than her. You're more radioactive than she is.
"We have a crisis." You plop down on her bed.
She leans on the frame of her closet door, crossing her arms over her chest. "What crisis?"
You lay down, covering your face with your hands and, in doing so, muffling your words. "I think Eddie's mad at me."
She understands you perfectly. "Why?" she asks as she walks over and sets her hands on your thighs, leaning over you. You look at her. "What happened?"
"He's not taking any of my gifts anymore!" You sit up on your hands, but she doesn't move. "I'm trying to give him stuff 'cause he keeps getting me stuff. I mean, whenever I'm mad at my parents, and they try to bribe me to get over it, I just don't accept their gifts."
She shrugs. "Okay," she thinks. She moves off of you, walking back to her closet. "But why would he give you things if he was mad at you?" She disappears inside. "Besides, what have you done?"
You stand, following her in. She's sifting through her wardrobe, looking for her outfit for tomorrow. She does it every day, usually with your help.
"I don't know!" you sigh, looking through her choice of skirts. "That's why I'm worried. I don't know what I've done, and guys are weird."
She holds up two skirts to show you: one short and flowy pale blue and one bright pink two sizes too small. You hum, picking the blue. The pink doesn't suit her skin anyway.
"Or maybe," you continue, "maybe he thinks I'm mad at him, and that's why he keeps giving me stuff."
She shakes her head. "I think you're reading too much into this, babe."
Your head shake is far more intense than hers. "I am reading perfectly into this. I show my love by buying people things, I gift give! I'm basically Santa as a teenage girl. Here." You pass her a white shirt, long sleeved and pretty.
She takes it. "Thanks." Then she hums. "Interesting analogy."
You shrug, sitting on the little stool in her closet with a sigh. "I mean, how would Santa feel if kids just...stopped taking his gifts and started giving him a whole bunch of them?"
Probably special, Chrissy thinks.
"He'd be frantic!"
Chrissy can't help but giggle lightly at that. She loves you, but you're a little ridiculous sometimes. She shakes her head and turns to you and picks up two pairs of shoes. She holds them up as she kneels in front of you, showing them off. "Have you tried talking to him?"
You choose the white sneakers over the black flats. "I don't want to say something bad and mess this up." You rest your chin in your hand. "We were doing so well."
She sighs, setting both pairs down. "I'm sure it's not as bad as you think."
You sigh. "You're right." And then you stand. "It's worse."
She stands and places her hands on your shoulders, making you sit again. "Okay, maybe you're exaggerating this a little bit."
Your shoulders slump. "Am I?"
"Yes." She laughs lightly to take the weight off it. She breathes in slowly. "Take a breath. Calm down."
She takes your head and takes you back into her bedroom, making you sit on the bed. She sits across from her, her legs crossed as she sways some hair behind her ear. She takes your hands.
"Eddie is not rich, he doesn't have a lot of money like your family," she begins to explain. "People who are not rich don't always enjoy accepting gifts because it makes them feel like they're inconveniencing you."
Your brows pull together, and you frown. "He's not an inconvenience."
"I know," she smiles. It looks beautiful on her. "He's already gotten so much stuff from you, plus those tickets? I'm not surprised he's trying to pay you back. He's not going to let you give him anything else until he feels like he has."
You assume the worst, looking down at your joined hands and sighing. "So that we're even, and he can stop feeling obligated to be friends with me."
"No," she urges. "So he can stop thinking that you might think he's using you for your money." She shrugs, "He probably just feels bad."
You think about her reasoning. Her explanation actually makes way more sense than your own.
"Yeah," she says. "Just talk to him. I'm sure it's just that."
You sigh, covering your face. "This is so weird."
She takes your wrists, pulling them away. Her voice takes on an annoyed tone. You can practically hear her eye rolls. "Because most of the people who are 'friends' with you are only friends because you buy them nice things."
You nod. "Yeah."
"Except for me, of course," she smiles, almost proudly.
You chuckle. "Except for you."
She sighs, letting go of you and shoving you to stand. "Go talk to Eddie."
You take a breath. "Okay..." You give her your best smile. "Thanks, Chris. You're the best." You kiss her cheek on the way out as you turn toward the door.
"I know," she says matter-of-factly. "Love you."
You open her door, peering your head in. You kiss at her. "Love you back."
She begins to stand. "Also," she looks back at you, tilting her head, "tell your bitch mom to stop shrinking your clothes so she can loosen them. She's an ugly old hag–"
"Y/N!"
"–and you're beautiful and perfect, and I love you. I'm serious, I'll beat her ass."
"Leave!" She closes the door in your face, but you know she's laughing on the other side, grateful for your comments.
~
Eddie is sitting on the porch with his acoustic when you drive up. The engine halts when you pull out your key, standing and closing the door behind you. He likes your car. It's sleek and beautiful. Very expensive because your parents bought it for you when you first got your license.
He keeps strumming his guitar as you make your way up the stairs. "Hey, Princess," he greets you.
"Hey," you mutter, the nerves grabbing at your throat as you come to stand next to him. You fidget with your fingers, sitting next to him on the bench.
"Eds, can we talk?"
He hums, still strumming. "About what?" When you don't respond, he looks up at you. He stops, moving his guitar off his lap with furrowed brows.
"Woah," he says, noticing your worried face. "What's wrong?"
You take a moment to think, sighing as you try to figure out what you were going to say. You rehearsed it in the car, thoroughly, and it's all blanking staring at his wide eyes, brown as coffee.
"Are you mad at me?"
He looks confused. "Why would you think that?" He grabs your hand, and you don't know if you're imagining his thumb brushing over your knuckles.
"Because you aren't letting me gift you things."
He doesn't do what you expect—though you're not entirely sure what you were expecting. Eddie smiles, a wide thing that splits his face in two. His eyes almost look like they're shining as he looks at you. You don't feel patronized when he does it, either. It's oddly warming.
"You think I'm mad at you because I'm not letting you gift me things?" he clarifies, almost shocked, though he knows he shouldn't be.
So he's not mad at you? That makes you feel a little better...
"Well," you sigh. "When my parents and I argue, they buy me things to make me feel better. I always say no."
He softens, smiling gently and taking your hand between his. "Sweetheart," he says slowly, "I'm not mad at you. I just don't want you to think I only like you for your money, especially after that concert. That's a huge gesture for someone you only started hanging out with two months ago."
You sigh, looking away from his eyes to think. Chrissy was right, he feels guilty for accepting your gifts. This whole thing is new to you. You're so used up from serving everybody else. Now someone is trying to serve you, and you completely mistook it for anger...
"I'm not used to that," you admit.
"To what?"
You shrug, "People not accepting gifts from me... other than Chrissy." You smile a little, but it falls quickly. Sighing, you look back up at him, squeezing his hands just a slight. "Most of my friends are friends because I bought them their prom tickets last year or invited them to a party or something."
Eddie smiles again. He seems to scoot closer to you, both your thighs squishing together and leaving no space between your bodies. He nudges your shoulder and then pushes you away a bit because he's too affectionate. "I don't like you because you have money and buy me nice things." He chuckles lightly. "Actually, the reason I didn't like you in the first place was because you have money and buy people nice things."
You smile a little and Eddie feels like the special-est person on Earth. He knows it's silly and too affectionate but he can't help it. Eddie's crooked finger hooks underneath your chin and lifts it to look right at him. "I like you for you."
It's moments like these when your love for Eddie can't be measured. It's moments like these when your love for Eddie feels more mature than a schoolgirl crush. It's that moment when you're imagining more than parties or prom or dates or celebrations, when your mind is full of thoughts of sitting quietly in the living room or watching a movie at three o'clock in the afternoon because it's a stay-at-home-day or fixing dinner as he wraps his arms around your waist and sets his chin on your shoulder or reading a book while he scratches his head and files taxes at the kitchen table.
You smile fondly, and Eddie thinks you're the strongest whiskey because he gets dizzy at the sight of you.
"Really?" you mumble, your voice soft and sweet.
"Yeah," he nods. "You're awesome, sweetheart."
You love when Eddie calls you 'Princess' in that funny, affectionate way, but when he calls you 'sweetheart; you lose all your senses in the blink of an eye.
"Really?" It's the only thing you can think to say.
"Absolutely."
"Okay..."
Then you get brave—as brave as you can get. Licking your bottom lip, you look down at your lap and smile nervously. To have to gather the courage to look him in the eye as you smile gently at him. "You know how you can repay me for the concert?"
He laughs, shaking his head. "How?"
You bite the inside of your cheek, another breath for courage—"Go to prom with me?"
Eddie's smile falls. "I-"
"You don't have to go as my date. I just don't want to go alone," you say quickly, trying not to trap him or manipulate him or make him think you're trying to do either. "Chrissy's going with Jason, and I don't want to be a third wheel..." You sigh, looking him in the eyes and feeling your heart palpitating.
"Please?"
You're going to kill him one day, he's sure of it. The way his heart kicks at the sight of your pleading eyes is fatal, and he knows it because he can feel it in his chest. He sighs. It's his own fault. He let you be friends, and now he's head over heels...
"...Sure," he agrees. When you beam at him, the largest grin he's ever seen in his life, it's all worth it, his stupidity. "We'll go together."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," he says. "Just two friends...going to prom."
You'll take that. You would take a million "just two friends" over "we don't talk anymore". You'd do anything for him. "Yeah," you smile. "Thanks, Eds."
It's all worth it to see you smile. "No problem."
~
Eddie's nervous. You can tell in the way he keeps bumping into you. You would dismiss it as just the way the place is crowded, stocked to the brim with sweaty bodies, some already drunk in the first hour and others high.
Eddie's been to parties before, obviously. He's done senior year three times, of course he's been to parties.
But he's not used to being around so many people and not being stared at. Almost no one is looking at him.
"Why are we going to this thing again?" he'd asked as you were getting ready.
You shrugged. "It's pre-prom."
"But there's actual prom."
You smoothed out your lipstick before you turned to him. "Yeah, but actual prom is kinda boring 'cause of the family-friendly rules. Pre-prom is hosted by students with no real adult supervision, so...less boring." You shrugged again, turning away to fix a stray hair. "Besides, I have to make an appearance. Me and Chrissy since we're in the running for Prom Queen. Otherwise, we get no votes."
"People'll vote for you anyway," he smiled.
"I always just want a drink or two."
He laughed a little. "We can just go to my place then." When you shook your head and laughed at him, he did the same. "Why am I going?"
"Because you have to. 'Cause you're my date." You turned quickly, eyes wide and hands out, "My plus one." You think about it for a moment. "My friend-date."
"Your date," he agrees, nodding and laughing and hoping you don't freak out because he called himself your date when you're just going as friends. Just friends.
"Yeah, I'll go with you, Princess." He sighs dramatically so he doesn't sound too wistful.
But now he wishes he'd convinced you to just go to his place and lounge on his couch, watching stupid movies and eating popcorn and then throwing popcorn at the screen when they do something stupid.
He holds your hand. You squeeze it, pulling him further inside with you and comforting him with all you have.
It becomes easier when you find Chrissy. Chrissy is very welcoming and helps you help Eddie settle because she's sweet and you're sweet and he loves you—your sweetness—he loves your sweetness.
When he has a beer in his hand—his only beer tonight, he's decided—and your hand in his other, he's laughing and letting you dance around him. Some people get upset with him when he accidentally bumps into them, and others give him dirty looks for the sake of giving dirty looks, but under the light in your eyes, he doesn't care. He doesn't even notice.
He watches your nose scrunch up in that adorable way that means you're truly happy. He keeps looking at you with the fondest eyes and the gentlest touches and the most wonderful smiles. You can't take it—he's so pretty with his doe eyes and smile lines and long lashes and his big nose and crazy hair and plump lips.
"Quit smiling at me," you giggle, pulling on his hand in yours. "I can't focus when you look at me like that."
"Like what?" he laughs. Then he makes a face, his eyes going wide and his smile showing all his teeth and his brows pulling together goofily. "Like this?"
"No, not like that," you laugh, smacking his shoulder lightly. He hears a squeak in your giggle and is thrown into his own fit. All your best laughs have squeaks in them. "Go back to how you were!"
You're both too sweet on each other, and he laces your fingers together to make sure you can't go away—even though you'd never.
"Oh, so now you want me to look at you?" he hums.
"Just not like a crazy person." He pulls you in so you're flat against his chest, and you don't have time to let your breath hitch until he's spinning you out again.
"How does a crazy person look?" He sets his beer down, pushing his hands into his hair and shaking it up. It sticks out all kinds of ways, a total mess.
"Like that," you nod dramatically.
"Like that?"
"Yeah." You add to the madness, your fingers carding through his hair. "Certified insane. It's a good look on you."
He snorts, fixing his hair again, "Yeah, I think so, too." When it's only in slight disarray, he sighs and looks down at you.
Eddie thinks you're beautiful. He likes your hair and your face and your soft hands and your pretty lips and bright eyes. He wants to hug you, but he'll settle for taking your hand when he realizes he's been staring at you for too long.
He starts pulling you with him as he walks. "Come on. I–"
A surprised gasp forces its way from your chest. You don't have time to process what's happening until after it's done. All you know is that it gets really cold and wet, and now your white dress is stained a bright red.
A round of snickering is heard above you. You look up to see a group of boys laughing obnoxiously over the stairs, a large bowl once filled with punch braced in their hands as they do. Everyone stands in shock, all talk ceasing when they see the sight of you drenched in red and these boys cracking up from it. It takes them a moment to catch wise...
Eddie is the first one to snap out of the shock, ignoring his hand, sleeve, and shoes just as wet. He mumbles something under his breath. Even in the relative silence, you don't make out the tiny "baby" that slips from his lips.
He sees your bottom lip tremble, your lashes already clumped with punch now clumping with the oncoming tears. The sudden urge to make everything okay again fills every inch of his bones. And as he looks up at these boys who'd hurt you, he wants nothing more than to let his fist meet pompous cheekbones.
"Tommy?" Your voice is meek, wavering with a brimming sorrow.
The other boys stop laughing immediately, looking down at you as their eyes fill with shock...and even fear. Tommy H, the main culprit, isn't so quick. When he notices their sudden change, he looks down as well.
That was meant for Eddie. Not you.
Now he knows fear.
Eddie watches your face contort even more until you're crying, tears falling down your cheeks and adding to the mess. He reaches out for your face, but you don't seem to notice as you rush past him, sniffles and all.
Eddie doesn't even get to shoot Tommy a threatening glare. He completely forgets about him for the moment in favor of following you through the house and out of the door, his shoes squeak-squeaking behind him.
He guesses you notice him following, because you reach a hand out behind you and catch his as you continue running out. Everyone parts ways, letting you pass without trouble. Eddie hears shouting behind him but keeps after you without a second thought.
You make it all the way to his van, parked outside in the crowded mess of cars and trucks. He opens the back doors for you so you can sit properly. You do, dropping your face in your hands as your chest heaves and you sob.
"Are you okay?" he asks, almost frantically. He runs his hands through your hair and gets you to look up at him so he can see your face clearly. It's covered in tears and punch and running mascara.
That same silent "oh, baby," passes his lips again, but you can hardly see the movement of it through your tears, so it's lost on you once more. Eddie's hands move to cradle your face. You keep sniffling, letting your body shake with shuddering breaths.
A horrible feeling curls in his chest. "Jesus," he mutters ruefully. "I should go back there and beat his ass."
He looks in the direction of the house, but you're already stopping him. "No, wait," you sniff. "It's okay."
But he's pissed. "No, it definitely is not okay–"
He's cut off by the sound of the front door opening forcefully. You both turn to see what's happening. As soon as you see Tommy H's freckled face, you hide in Eddie's chest. His gentle hands keep you there, rubbing and comforting you.
Tommy's running. He and the friends who hadn't escaped bolt from the house faster than Eddie thinks he's ever seen anyone run.
Someone hollers inside, and suddenly the entire football team is chasing after the boys, shouting and whooping and out for blood in the cover of street lamps in the night.
Directly behind them, Chrissy, Steve Harrington, and some brown-haired girl, stand by the door. They look after the boys but ultimately turn toward you. Chrissy doesn't look at all worried.
Eddie's attention is caught by a shouting voice.
"Y/N!" Jason Carver yells. "Do you need a ride home?"
You look up from Eddie's chest, wipe your face a little, and shake your head. "No. Eddie's taking me." You sniffle pitifully, "But thank you, Jason."
He nods, "No problem." Turning to Eddie, he raises his finger in a harsh point. "Take her home safe, Munson, or I'll skin you like a cat." He turns in the direction they're running, still in sight. He shouts loudly. "You better fucking run, you son of a bitch!"
"Hey, it's okay," you say, "You can let Tommy go." Eddie looks at you, obviously disagreeing, but says nothing.
Jason makes a face. "Why would I do that?" Then he's off again, shouting after the team and the runners.
You look toward the figures walking toward you and Eddie. Chrissy shakes her head gently, seemingly amused (only to you) but not smiling. Steve's expression is completely different, as he looks genuinely concerned but ultimately sympathetic. The other girl looks worried.
"Hey, you okay?" Steve asks, setting his hands on his hips and leaning.
You nod, wiping your nose and rubbing your hands on your wet clothes. It's not coming out. "Yeah..." you mumble, squeezing a couple tears out.
He sighs, "Tommy's way outta line for that one. I'm sorry, princess."
Eddie gets jealous for a moment that he's called you by his name for you before he remembers... Everyone calls you princess. It's basically your name.
"S'okay."
You glance at the girl, who gives a small nervous smile. She mouths silently, "I'm Robin." You give her the best smile you can manage. "Hope you're okay," she says gently.
Chrissy nods gently to herself. She shoots you a look, "Don't catch a cold." She looks at Eddie. "Get home safe. Both of you. Bye, babe."
You wave at her, a tiny lift of your hand from your lap. Another tear slips down your cheek.
"Come on, sweetheart."
Eddie braces a hand behind your back and eases you to stand. You do, taking his hand and letting him lead you. Steve pats his back gently before he's stepping away. Eddie closes the back door and opens your own like a gentleman. The three wave their goodbyes and start back toward the house.
He closes your door and goes to his side. The engine roars to life after having to twist the key a couple times. He starts driving. You're really quiet.
Eddie reaches a hand down and sets it gently on your knee, hoping it's not weird but also too worried about you to care. "Are you okay, Princess?"
You nod. "Yeah." You take in a large breath.
He shakes his head, his hand flexing on the wheel. "Why would you want them to let him go?" He hates the idea of someone hurting you and getting away with it. You deserve so much more.
"Hm?" You look at him, wiping the tears in your eyes. "Oh, I don't." You clear your throat and sniff. As you lick your lips, your face scrunches at the taste of alcoholic punch and lipstick. Eddie watches you try to wipe your face clean as best you can with your hands.
Your face scrunches. "Shit, I'm all sticky now."
Eddie's going to get whiplash.
"What?"
"Hm?" you look at him again. All evidence of your crying is gone. Your teary eyes are now only slightly watering, with your face kind of clean, no new fresh tears take their place. The sadness is wiped clean. You look back at him with the least amount of sorrow he's ever seen on you.
When you feel the van turning, you say his name and it swerves back in place. He puts his other hand back on the wheel.
"You were faking it?"
Suddenly, you smile. Eddie can't stand you.
"Of course," you say, shrugging. "It's just punch."
He sighs, feeling a little stupid but mostly just...amused. And really fucking relieved. He hates seeing you cry. You deserve so much more.
"I thought you were upset."
You laugh and he no longer has any reason to be upset. "No," you chuckle, "but Tommy's not happy."
He shakes his head. "I'm so confused."
You smile and sigh gently. "Thomas Hagan just poured a whole punch bowl on me—" you make doe eyes, "—the sweet, innocent princess of Hawkins—and then laughed his ass off like it was the funniest shit in the world." You shake your head, not at all upset. "He's not coming back from that."
Eddie smiles slowly. You're enjoying this. "You little–"
"He'll be blacklisted. No more hangouts, no more parties. He's done."
Eddie can't believe you. "Manipulative."
You pinch your fingers slightly and smile as you look through them. "Just a little."
"You're seriously not upset?" he wonders.
You're drenched head to toe, your hair is clumpy, your skin is sticky, your makeup is running all over your face, and your dress is forever ruined. But you're smiling like all is well with the world.
Again, you shrug. "I'll have to take a long shower now, but I'm okay."
He snorts lightly. "I bet."
You lean in slowly, smirking and bobbing your brows. "Never get on my bad side." A reminder. The one he asked for the last time Tommy had done something unbecoming.
And Eddie laughs. Not because he doesn't take you seriously, but because he just likes you so much. You are... everything to him.
Doing his best to keep his eyes on the road, he laughs loudly and fills the van with the sound of it. You get giddy at accomplishing such a feat and can't help but laugh with him. It's loud and obnoxious and just what you both needed. Warmth blooms in your chest, despite the cold shivers coming in, and you couldn't be happier.
~
Eddie pulls up on the curb, opening your door—like a gentleman—and helping you out. You mumble a quick apology about his sticky seats, to which he replies that those seats have seen worse. You don't know what he means, but you're hoping your idea is wrong.
In the driveway, yours and your dad's cars are parked and idle. Your mother is gone on a business trip—her boss' secretary—so he's probably home alone.
"Play it cool," you whisper to Eddie as you get to the door, messing with your sticky hair to make it look worse than it is. "How do I look?"
"Terrible," he lies.
"Great," you beam. You let your face fall immediately, and you look pitifully pretty.
You take Eddie's hand and let him open the door for you. As he's closing it, you glance around. "Daddy?"
"Yes, honey." You hear his footsteps as he enters the foyer. He turns the corner, "I thought you would be out longer–"
He looks up, stopping abruptly as he realizes what a mess you are. He furrows his brows, walking closer. "What happened to you?" He goes in to hug you, pausing when he sniffs. "Why do you smell like that?"
"Just..." you sniffle and Eddie watches a tear slip down your cheek. He thinks you're ridiculous, and he loves every moment of it. "Something happened at the party."
He picks up your hands and holds them in his palms. "What happened?"
You shake your head, looking down at the buttons of his shirt. Eddie stands close behind you, a hand on your back for support. It's warm, and you like the feeling of it. "Nothing."
"No," your father hums, tilting your chin up to look at him, "tell me."
You take in a big breath and let it out in a sigh. Your bottom lip trembles. "Tommy H," you confess. "He poured punch over my head on top of the stairs." You will more tears from your eyes. Your breath hitches, and you shake your head, "I'm sure it was an accident... He probably didn't mean to do it."
Technically, he didn't. It was meant for Eddie. But that's no better. You did warn him.
He raises a brow. "It looks like he spilled the whole bowl on you." He looks at his hand, red fruit punch staining his palm now.
You nod, a slow up and down that has him frowning deeper.
"Hey," he hums. "He won't mess with you anymore."
"Really?"
He nods, holding your chin. "Of course. No one messes with my little girl and gets away with it. We're cutting him off."
Bingo.
You shake your head, "It's okay. You don't have to do that."
He smiles gently, "But I will." He nudges your chin gently before letting you go. "Go get washed up."
He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and begins wiping his hands clean. "Thank you, Daddy." You would hug him, but you're still sticky. You're sure he wouldn't mind, but you'd rather avoid the mess anyway.
"Of course, honey." You kiss his cheek as you turn toward the stairs with Eddie's hand in yours. As his foot lands on the first stair, your father stops him.
"Hey."
Eddie turns.
"Did you drive her home?"
"Yes, sir."
He grunts. "Did you beat that Tommy kid up?"
Eddie shakes his head. "No, sir. Jockeys had him," he looks at you, spying a gleam in your eyes and smiling a bit. "I was just trying to get her home."
There's a short silence as your father smiles. He gives a firm nod, "Good man."
Relief fills his chest as he nods back. "Thank you, sir." You pull him up the stairs. He takes off his jacket.
You close the door behind him, your smile returning as you kick off your shoes. "Not only did we blacklist Tommy," you turn back to him, "but my dad also loves you now. Congrats."
Eddie furrows his brow as he heads toward your bathroom. "He does?" He turns on the sink, washing his sticky hands.
You nod. "Yeah." You disappear into your closet, coming back a moment later with a towel on your arm. "That's fatherly approval. You defended my honor, my knight in shining armor."
You take his arm and kiss his cheek as you walk past him. He feels giddy. "At least someone's parents love me." He starts taking off his shoes, setting them next to yours. Eddie sits at the edge of your bed.
You snort. "I'm gonna take a shower. Don't be a perv."
He kicks the floor playfully and sighs. "Ruined my whole night."
You point at him threateningly. "I'll tell my dad on you."
"I'll take pictures with me then. To remember you by." He winks.
You return the wink. "I'll make sure to pose for you."
You disappear into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Eddie sits in your room, smiling pathetically, so happy that you're okay and he's okay and he's your knight in shining armor.
Here he is, smiling like an idiot, surrounded by the scent of you in your room with all your pictures and all your knick-knacks. He slides onto the floor, resting his head back on the mattress. God, he's in trouble.
He's flipping through one of the books on your shelves when you come out, a cloud of steam following you as you dry your hair. He looks over your outfit, smiling but offering you a confused look.
"Is that mine?"
You look down at your shirt, one of his band tees that you'd taken a couple weeks ago. He'd been looking for that. You can keep it.
"Yeah," you nod. "I stole it from your room."
He chuckles. "Well, finders, keepers, I guess."
You smile, walking toward your drawer stocked with VHS tapes. "You wanna watch a movie? I can go make popcorn."
"Sure." He raises his brows. "Can I take a shower? I don't wanna get spiked punch everywhere."
You snort. "Course. There are towels in there, and some of your clothes are in my closet."
He tilts his head, sighing. "How many of my clothes have you stolen?"
You raise your hands in defense. "Just a few shirts and like...one pair of sweatpants."
He shakes his head at you as he goes to get a pair. He closes the bathroom door softly behind him.
He likes your bathroom. It's clean and mostly organized. It smells like lavender and rose, pearly whites and pale blues. He almost expected pink.
~
Eddie appreciated the weight of your body against his as you lean into his side. Labyrinth plays on the TV as the minutes tick by into the night.
He keeps looking at you, your heavy eyes drooping as you struggle to stay awake. It's late. You should be sleeping, but you're staying awake for him. It takes a lot not to turn his head and kiss the top of your own.
"You're warm," you mumble.
He smiles a little. "Yeah?" With the arm thrown over your shoulders, his fingers play with your hair. "You gettin' sleepy?" He knows the answer.
You nod, a sluggish movement against his arm. "Mhm."
He picks up the remote slowly, turning down the TV just a little more. "You should go to sleep then."
Your body becomes a little heavier against him. He takes all your weight, proud to. "Mmm," you slur. "Finish the movie."
A very light chuckle, as light as he can make it, eases from his chest. "We can finish it another time," he says so, so softly.
"No...Watch it now."
He does kiss your hairline this time, leaning his cheek on the top of your head. "Go to sleep, bossy."
He's not sure if you mean to say it, he's not even sure if you know you've said it. But when you whisper that little "love you", he loses his mind.
He smiles so wide, he feels his whole face start to hurt. He hadn't realized it would make him so happy to hear that, to hear your little confession spoken gently into the warmth of his chest. He turns his head so his words go into your hair. "Yeah?"
"Mmm."
He opens his mouth, thinks, and smiles. "I love you, too, baby."
You hum, and then he feels you slump. He doesn't mind. He doesn't mind the way he can't move his arm, he doesn't mind the way your hair gets in his face. He turns off the TV, leans back as slowly as he can, and lays the both of you down against your pillow to sleep.
You love him.
~
The entire day consists of Chrissy at your place getting ready for prom. The music doesn't stop and neither does the energy. You keep her happy and entertained and well-fed and then distracted again with more excitement so she doesn't get self-conscious and start panicking.
You also spend a lot of time keeping all the parents from the room. Your mothers keep trying to "help", and you keep having to kick them out because they're both annoying and overbearing.
Eddie keeps calling you. The walky-talky Dustin gave you both goes off regularly, at least once an hour to ask a question you'd had answered for days now.
"It is red, right? Not blue? It can't be blue; Chrissy's wearing blue." "Which knot are we doing on the bowtie? Wayne only knows the simple one but he's got a magazine with the other ones." "Am I leaving my hair down?" "I drive to your place, and then we take your car, right?"
"Yes, it's red. The whole outfit we picked is right." "Try the simple one. I can fix it if it looks weird, but it shouldn't. I trust you." "Do what makes you comfortable. I'll love it either way." "That's right. I know you really want to drive it." "Eddie, everything's gonna be fine. Don't worry."
"I know," he sighs. "I just don't wanna mess this up for you. I know you've been looking forward to it."
You giggle a bit. "As long as I get to spend time with you, Eds, tonight will be great."
"Such a charmer," he teases.
"It's my natural talent."
You set the device down, taking your spot across from Chrissy once more. She's smiling at you, albeit nervously.
"Are you sure I look okay?"
You smile, pinching her chin before reclaiming the small brush and finishing off the short, sleek wing of her eyeliner, all while holding your breath so you don't accidentally screw up. You draw a tiny heart just above the apple of her cheek.
"You are," you set the eyeliner down, "absolutely beautiful. You always are."
"Are you sure?" she says, a telling hand creeping to her belly.
You take her face in your hands, careful not to screw up her freshly done makeup. "Chrissy," you whisper, "you're perfect. Always, all the time, no matter what. I will never lie to you, and I'll never sugarcoat it. You're amazing, and I love you."
She takes a slow breath in and nods, smiling prettily. "Love you, too." You kiss her forehead.
"Now do my eyes," you smile, handing her a makeup brush. She giggles as she takes it.
And later on, as the night gets closer and the sun is beginning its descent, you and Chrissy are walking down the steps, holding each other's hands.
All the parents are gathered downstairs, smiling as your mothers cling to your fathers' sides. Your father smiles as you come down. "You both look like royalty," he declares, holding his arms open for you. Your mother moves to give you the space.
"Thank you, Daddy," you hum.
He pulls you back to see your face. "Anything for you, princess." He kisses your forehead.
Chrissy's sharing her own hug with her father. "I trust they were the dresses you wanted," he says.
She nods. "They were. Thank you, Daddy."
"Whatever you want, angel." He kisses her cheek.
Your father pats him on the back as they both wander into the kitchen, your mother follows behind them.
You try not to grimace when Laura stays back, looking her daughter up and down with a grimace of her own.
"I still think I should have loosened that dress up a little more." She moves forward, placing her hands on Chrissy's waist and trying to adjust the fabric.
Chrissy tries to smile through her discomfort. She puts a hand over her stomach and you retire your hard side-eye to come to her side. You weave your arm around her as you give her a reassuring grin.
"Well, I think you look beautiful." You nudge her chin, she smiles. "I envy you."
"I don't know," she tsks. "She's a little too big for her dress. Especially around the hips..."
You smile, turning to the side as you mumble under your breath. "Funny how you barely fit in that large sized dress."
Her brows shot up. "What was that?"
"Hm?" you ask, turning back to her. "Nothing. I was just saying you didn't need to stress."
She huffs, "You said something about a large."
Chrissy's head dips, attempting to cover a grin as you loop your arm through her elbow. "I was just...admiring your large heel."
There's silence as she stares at the both of you. Chrissy tries not to laugh at your dangerous idiocy whilst also struggling with not shrinking under her mother's terrible gaze. You have no issue in staring her right back down, your head tilting and your cordial smile held strong on your lips.
"You mean...'high' heel?" she corrects.
The tension in the air is thick. Chrissy finds it difficult to stand still as she shifts from foot to foot, staring down at the floor or the wall or her bracelet. Anything to avoid looking her mother in the eye—or you, for that matter, in fear that she would burst with laughter and build herself her own grave.
You hum and nod. "Of course. High horse—heel. My apologies."
Her hand raises to her chest, seemingly shocked by the blatant 'disrespect'. "You are being very disrespectful, young lady."
You were trying to be subtle but something about Chrissy's mother rips all the subtlety from you as you furrow your brows but continue to smile. "Oh, I wasn't aware decency was considered disrespectful."
Chrissy nudges your side gently, whispering your name in an urgent reprimanding. "What? What did I say?" you wonder.
Laura isn't having it. "Why, I should go tell your mother about your unpleasant behavior."
You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You try to look regretful, but you're sure you're missing the mark by a few hairs. "Oh, forgive me, Ms. Cunningham."
She huffs. "Missus, young lady."
"Right," you nod. "Mrs. Cunningham. I apologize." You tighten your grip on Chrissy's arm just a slight, making it harder for her to keep it together. She loves you, and she thinks you're hilarious. "It's unbecoming of a lady—such as myself—to behave in such a way."
"Yes, it is," she agrees. "One would think a girl like you would behave more appropriately."
You nod firmly. "Of course. I should respect my elders—I apologize, my superiors."
You could gag at the idea of it.
But she can't stand your "disrespect" any more as she huffs and shakes her head, making a various amount of scoffing noises as she begins walking away. "The nerve of children these days."
She leaves the both of you alone. Once you're sure she's out of earshot, Chrissy bends over laughing, covering her mouth and shaking her head to keep quiet.
"You're gonna get in trouble," she whisper-yells. Instead of shoving you away, she tightens her grip to pull you closer. Your foreheads practically touch as the two of you form a conspiring huddle.
You scoff. "I'm Daddy's angel. Doesn't matter what she tells my mom—who will tell my dad—Daddy's angel knows no wrong." It's a truth you repeat often, but it's one of those truths that have always been indisputable.
"Daddy's princess," she corrects you. "I'm the angel."
You shrug, humming. "You're technically the queen."
It's funny. You probably have a higher social standing than Chrissy does, but she was always the Queen of Hawkins while you were simply the princess—not that you minded, you would always support her.
Neither of you are quite sure why that is, but you think it may be because she became a cheerleader before you and then started dating Jason Carver. It doesn't matter. As long as you have her by your side, you would accept being the jester in this high school court of a kingdom.
Chrissy smiles, another giggle rattling her body. "So strange how you don't listen to me then."
You gasp dramatically. "I do! Otherwise I'd be out of the business, Your Highness. We both know I'm a little too dramatic to process common sense sometimes." She rolls her eyes playfully at you. "Exhibit A, Eddie."
She snorts. "Yeah, you were a little confused a couple times there.*
You gasp again, pretending to elbow her in the side. "You're mean!" She giggles again as you call out. "Daddy! Time for pictures."
"Coming, princess," he calls from the kitchen.
Chrissy whispers to you, "You're crazy."
You wink. "Crazy for you."
She rolls her eyes.
All the parents return with a camera. There are a multitude of flashes as they get every possible picture they could need—you and Chrissy, you and your parents, you and your dad, Chrissy and her parents, Chrissy and her dad, Chrissy and her mom (because her mother is insistent). More pictures will be taken when the boyfriends show up.
Jason is the first of the two to show up. As you predicted, there are more pictures. And as soon as those pictures are done, he and Chrissy leave, but not without a pink kiss to your cheek.
Then Eddie shows—without blaring his music through his speakers tonight. He isn't late, in fact he's perfectly on time.
As he walks up the steps to the house, he behaves like a gentleman the whole way. He rings the doorbell, you answer it before your father can, and you give Eddie your best smile.
He looks so handsome. He's in a black tux with a red dress shirt. His black bowtie is perfect, and you're sure it's because he didn't stop until it was. You would have thought he would keep his hair down, but he wants to impress you. His hair is shiny with product and so, so curly. He's got it pulled back in a half-up man bun.
And, of course, his rings are still in place. Shiny, freshly polished. Jesus, you loved him.
"Wow," he sighs at the sight of you. His doe eyes are wide, and his plump lips are parted. He looks starstruck.
"Do you hate it?" you worry, looking down at your dress. The theme is royalty in yours and Chrissy's honors. So, as intended, you look like a princess.
He shakes his head. "No."
You try not to mess with your hair by running your hands through it. "Is it too much?"
Eddie grabs your hand, smiling as he squeezes it gently. "You look fuckin' beautiful."
Your eyes seem to shine, and Eddie thinks you're trying to kill him. "Really?" you smile.
"You look like a princess," he promises, looking at you too closely. You're so, so pretty.
Something hits him, not literally. "Oo!" he exclaims, taking a step back. He turns on his heel with no explanation and rushes back to his van. You watch him, thinking that he's a total dork and that you wanna kiss him silly. There's something about being dressed up like this and being his not-date to prom that makes your feelings for him just that much more potent.
Usually you can get through the first five minutes without imagining your faces squished together in a too-affectionate kiss, but you can't help right now but to be riddled with the fantasy.
He comes back with something uselessly hidden behind his back. "I have this. Close your eyes."
You do as you're told because you trust him, and you would hold a ticking bomb in your palms if he asked you to. You feel him place something on your head—a tiara, you presume.
"Shit," he huffs breathlessly.
You peak your eyes open, raising your hands to feel the tiara with happy fingers. You want to burst. You're so much of a princess to him that he needed to give you a tiara. You're proper royalty now.
"Too much?" you ask.
"Never," he's quick to say. He smiles. "You're perfect."
You don't know what compelled you to say it. "Shit, you might as well kiss me now."
"Huh?" he wonders, as though he wasn't paying attention. You don't think he was.
He was. He definitely was.
"Nothing," you say anyway, covering your words with a grin as you take his hand and pull him inside. "Come on, my mom wants a picture."
He raises a brow, pointing to himself like a dummy. "With me?"
"'Course." You thread your hand through his elbow, and he gladly allows it.
"Seriously?" he asks.
"Yeah," you giggle. "We'll give some to Wayne, too. I'm sure he'd like a picture."
"Yeah," he mutters, fully agreeing but also slightly confused. You like him confused, he's sweet either way.
~
Eddie is a gentleman. As soon as you get to the party, he rushes out of the car just to open your door for you—as he always does. He takes your hand in the crook of his elbow and leads you inside. You smile the whole way, and he tells you that you're pretty when you smile. Your face hurts from smiling so much.
When you're inside, the music is already pounding in the floors and a lot of people are dancing. There are also, however, plenty of people sitting at the sidelines, watching others enjoy their time. People with no dates, people with dates ignoring them, people in friend groups. You notice Tommy H's freckled face hasn't shown up yet. A sly smirk threatens to overtake your warm smile.
You and Eddie spend the first hour dealing with everyone coming up to compliment you. You both expected this. The party's just started, you're running for queen, and...you look beautiful. Eddie does his best to swat away any of the vultures. When you spy Chrissy, you stick next to her and brave the vultures together.
Until Jason pulls her away for punch. She kisses your cheek as she goes, allowing her boyfriend to drag her away again. You don't mind, it gives you time with Eddie and his excited affection.
"Sup, Harrington," he calls when he spots Steve and—the girl you've come to know as—Robin Buckley. "I thought they didn't let old men in here."
Steve rolls his eyes as his palm smacks Eddie's. "You're older than me, Munson."
Eddie shrugs that heavy shouldered shrug and snorts. "By, like, a year."
Steve shakes his head and turns away from him, setting his eyes upon you. With a warm smile, he greets you. "You look great, Y/N."
"Like, drop dead gorgeous. You are stunning," Robin spews, taking in your outfit with plenty of appreciation for your style. A tiny squeal escapes her as she does.
"Thank you," you answer genuinely. You've grown to really like Robin in a short span of time. She's so sweet and geeky, and you love getting to hang out with her and Chrissy on the days where you've kicked the boys out. "You look beautiful, Bobby."
She seems to blush, looking down at her dress and nodding. It's probably too dressy for her, but your compliment makes her feel better. "Yeah, thanks."
She nudges Steve in the side hard enough for him to bring a hand to it and mutter a weak, "Ow."
"Steve wishes he had a date. He couldn't score one," she teases.
The three of you laugh as he rolls his eyes at the abuse. He'd hoped you would at least be nice to him, but it seems you've followed in Eddie's cruel footsteps. "Har, har. Laugh it up."
Robin takes his arm then, her giggles melting into her words as she smiles wide. "Anyway, we should go check out the punch. I heard someone spiked it and now we've got booze!"
Robin starts walking away with Steve, but when he pauses, she doesn't stop to wait for him. Steve sidles up to Eddie, leaning down to whisper in his ear and keep away from your prying ones. "It's now or never, dude. Don't keep making us listen to your gross pining."
Eddie grumbles, masking his anxiety with annoyance as he rolls his eyes. "I don't pine."
Steve scoffs. "Yeah, right."
Eddie pushes him away, to which Steve raises his hands in mock defense as he goes to catch up with Robin. He waves at you on his way. As if on cue, the music changes to something slow and steady, something romantic, and Eddie thinks the world is mocking him. When Eddie turns back to you, you're smiling at a couple who'd come up to say hi. He waits patiently for them to leave before he holds his kind of shaky hand out to you.
"D'you wanna dance?" he asks after clearing his throat a couple times.
You smile that drop-dead smile at him and he finds it a little harder to breathe. You slip your hand into his palm, and he hopes his isn't sweaty. "Yeah," you mumble fondly, standing close as you let him guide you to a spot within the dancing couples. Your heart beats so fast, drowning on his nervous fondness.
He holds you with timid hands, one in your hand and one on your side. You're just familiar enough that his touch does not feel as awkward as you feel. You try not to melt against him, to lay your head upon his chest and close your eyes, to let him sway you with the gentleness he feels swelling in his chest and tingling in his fingers.
He stares at your face, and it feels natural for him to do so. Your hand on his shoulder slides further to wrap around the back of his neck. He smiles at the soft glow in your eyes, the little sparkle of life that erupts every time you look at him.
"You're really pretty," he whispers as his eyes look over all the glorious features of your face: your soft lips, your kind eyes, your plush cheeks, your adorable nose, your fluttering lashes he wants to feel lay little butterfly kisses on his face.
You look down from his eyes momentarily, hoping the warmth in your cheeks and the shortness of your breath isn't too evident. "This dress was really expensive, so I'm glad you think so–"
He doesn't mean to cut you off, but he does. "I'm not talking about the dress." He can't help it when his hand strays from your hand to hold the side of your face, his thumb brushing the gentlest touch against the apple of your cheek. "You're pretty without the dress."
You stare at him with the biggest, shiniest eyes. He loves when you look at him like this.
Then he realizes maybe he weirded you out.
"N-Not, like, naked! I just meant, y'know, even without the fancy dress, just in regular clothes, too. You're just..." he clears his throat pathetically, "you're really pretty."
You tip your head back to laugh sweetly, the one with the squeaks—the one he really likes because of its sincerity. His hand wraps farther around your waist. You respond—seemingly unconsciously—by setting your other arm on his shoulder. He secures both hands at your waist.
"I know what you meant, Eddie," you giggle, giving him one last squeak just to please him—though he knows you didn't do it on purpose.
He nods, letting his own giddy laugh escape him. "Cool."
A chuckle, one of the ones that goes through your nose as you stifle a grin. You move slowly, like you're trying not to startle an animal, as you set your head on his chest. You step just a slight closer, and he graciously lets his hands wrap tighter around you. His head rests against the top of your heart.
It's close and warm and it makes you both smile. He smells nice, familiar, like the cologne you bought him, deodorant, and cigarettes. Under the music and the sound of his clothes brushing your ear, you can hear the faintest beat of his heart. It's quick, heavy. You can feel it against your cheek if you really focus.
You chuckle so lightly. "Eddie, calm down. Your heart is, like, super fast."
He clears his throat, speaking through his fond haze. "My bad."
He's so nervous. Steve's words play over and over again in his mind. "It's now or never, it's now or never, it's now or never, it's now–" and he is so afraid to pick now that all he does is sway and breathe the scent of your soft perfume, and under that, your—supposedly—scentless lotion.
He's so afraid that he's missed his chance. He knows you love him, but he's stuck on the possibility that you don't love him like you did. Maybe now, after having waited so long, you love him like a best friend, you love him like a brother. Maybe now that he's finally fallen for you, you don't have the capacity to stay low with him.
He's so afraid.
You both sway to the music, moving so slowly. There's a pause, it feels like. You feel like something is supposed to be said or done but...no one is doing it. The music changes again, but neither of you have stopped your slow dance. You rue the moment you have to tear away from him.
But there was a pause.
"Do you want to stop?" you ask gently, hoping against hope that he says no.
And he answers your prayer better than you could have asked for. It's a quick, "absolutely not," that leaves no time for any conceived hesitation.
You're so relieved. "Okay..."
His response is just as immediate. "I like you."
You look up at him, smiling gently. The sight of him warms your heart, all the softness in his big features, all the gleaming in his dark eyes. "I like you, too."
"No, like..." he sighs, struggling to say what he wants to say as his hands find firmer purchase at your waist out of nerves. "I really like you."
You're confused as to how to respond. Smiling strangely and furrowing a brow, you chuckle, "Thank you?"
Not quite. "I mean–"
"Eddie," you pause, donning a playful voice. "You're being weird again."
He wants to laugh but his ears are burning. "What I mean to say is..." now or never, "I fuckin' love you."
Your heart leaps to your throat, and you almost choke on it. It's beating so fast, you feel it in every pulse in your body. "Like..." you think quickly, though your thoughts are jumbled. "Like a friend? Like Steve and Robin."
"Not at all."
You shake your head, thinking his not platonic love for you is too good to be true. "I'm confused."
He's already said it, there's no use in being shy. He chuckles, and then takes a deep breath, and then blows it out. You stare up at him, eyes gleaming and lips parted so delicately. He wants to kiss you.
"I'm..." Breathe. "I'm in love with you, Princess." And then your heart stops. You're surprised you haven't fallen in the middle of the dance floor. He holds you up with all the fondness in his heart. "I was trying not to fall for you, I wasn't going to–" he says it with the same resolve as picking up candy at the gas station, like loving you is such an easy thing to do, "–but then we started hanging out, and you ended up being really, really cool. Then, I sort of just..." He sighs, trying to find the words. "I started really liking you. Then I picked you up for that concert, and you were so gorgeous—you always are. And I picked you up tonight and saw you in this...fuckin' awesome dress, and I couldn't breathe because you're just... You're so beautiful, and–"
You shut him up with a kiss. You sit here and listen to his compliments forever, but you couldn't wait any longer to feel his lips on yours. You've wanted this for so long, craved this kind of intimacy with him since you first saw him and thought he was super weird. And he was, you were right. You often are.
His lips are soft and warm, and you love the feeling of kissing him. It sways in your chest and warms the pit of your stomach, and it tingles in your fingers and ears and you just...lean into it like it's such a natural thing. Your hand wraps around the back of his head, tangling in his hair to pull him closer. His hands tighten around your waist and pull you flush against him. Happy hands hold the other, an innocent desperation to be near.
Fuck, you love him and his stupid anxiety. You love him in all his strangeness, his eccentricities, his eager hands and giddy eyes. Kissing him is one of the best decisions you've made, and it's one you hope you can continue to make forever and ever and ever.
When your lips pull apart and you're breathing each other's air, you keep your eyes closed as your lashes flutter. "I love you, too," you whisper, pulling him even closer. Your affection for him had only grown over the last few months, from a swelling warmth to a bursting excitement that grows still with every Eddie-ism.
"Sorry it took so long," he replies, your lips brushing with his words as his hand raises to brush your cheek.
You shrug lazily. "I'm glad it happened at all," you're still so close. You forget the music is still playing, you forget people are dancing to something fast and loud, you forget people are probably staring and talking and laughing and dancing and carrying on while you and Eddie are stuck in your own world, confessing and kissing and loving.
You chuckle, resting your head on his chest for a moment before lifting up again. "Chrissy'll be ecstatic."
He laughs, his hand splayed along your lower back as he rubs the spot affectionately. "Yeah, well... They certainly are."
You look over to where he motions with his head, giggling when you see Steve and Robin beaming and throwing thumbs up at the two of you, as though they were being subtle in their celebration. If you look over just a bit, you can see Chrissy smiling like it was her being kissed and loved on so sweetly. She pulls Jason with her as she joins the other two in your success—which is, in turn, their success.
You snort. "You have weird friends."
"Correction: we have weird friends."
What's mine is yours, what's yours is mine. You're okay with that.
You get giddy all over again looking at his face. "I'm so fuckin' happy right now." You lift up on your toes and kiss him again, drinking in his loving affection. When you pull away, you smile wide.
"Do you wanna go to the movies with me?" he asks, bringing an eager hand up to cup your chin.
You smile, containing your laugh. "You won't stand me up?"
He laughs, a big one that rumbles in his entire body and spreads to your own. "No, I won't stand you up," he says. "I'll open your door like a gentleman, I'll buy your snacks, I'll drive you back home and give you a goodnight kiss."
Your voice is soft, though the music shouldn't permit it to be. "Can we go back to your place?"
"Mine?" he wonders. Yours is probably better, he thinks.
"Yours is better." It's like you've read his mind, and you need to prove him wrong with his own phrasing.
He shrugs, "It's small."
You respond with your own shrug, holding him a little longer. Your thumb rubs against the back of his neck. "It feels like a home."
He hums. "Not very gentlemanly, taking you back to my place."
You snort. "Not like my parents'll notice." The way you say it makes his heart hurt. They wouldn't realize I was gone. "Your house is lived in," you say with a new gentleness. "I want to be with you." And then you get shy, shrugging one shoulder and slanting your chin down to meet it. "And maybe I just want to make out with my boyfriend."
Eddie blushes all over at the word, like he's a school boy flirting with his playground crush. "Right?" you ask quickly. "I can call you that?"
"Please do."
You purse your lips and giggle at his eagerness. You can't help it, you kiss him again. You love the way he kisses, full of smiles and warmth and a hint of desperation.
You pull back, your hand on his chest. "Does this mean you'll let me buy you gifts again?"
He rolls his eyes and laughs lightly, shaking his head before conceding with a grin. "Within reason." He couldn't say no to you, especially not now.
Your hands sit fondly at either side of his face. Your thumbs brush his skin. "I can deal with that."
And this time, he kisses you.
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catherinnn · 2 days
Text
Fears and Futures
summary: After hearing Steve's comments about a friend's unexpected pregnancy, you become fearful of your own uncertain future and start questioning the meaning and depth of your relationship with Eddie.
warnings: language, unexpected pregnancy (not reader), not actual smut talks about sex, talks about unprotected sex, a little angst but fluff overall, hurt/comfort.
words: 1.1k
a/n: a little something just cause I felt like writing and I wanted a little drama. not proofread cause I was tired :)
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He opens his door for you and you start feeling nervous. After he lets you in, you see he’s trying to greet you with a kiss, one which you stop before his lips touch yours.
He takes a step back and you see his face, filled with worry and fear.
“Eds, I came here to talk” you explain.
And now his face falls, he realized what you meant.
--
You’re currently at Steve’s house, hanging out with him Robin and Eddie.
“Hey, do you remember Rebeca Evans?” Steve asks.
“Yeah, she was a senior with Eddie and me” you answer.
“The first time I was a senior” Eddie jokes.
You and Eddie had been friends since high school —it’s safe to say you’re best friends actually—, it took Eddie a couple more tries to finish high school but he finally did it. ’86 baby! Now you’re studying and he started working as a mechanic.
A year ago you started some kind of… arrangement between you two, a friends with benefits kind of arrangement. It all started on a drunken night at a party and then you kept it going not only on drunken nights, but on your sober nights, or at any time for that matter.
“She’s pregnant” Steve announced, and then he complains when you say he’s the most gossipy of the group.
“What? Really?”
“Yeah, she went on a few dates with this guy but they didn’t really hit it off, but they kept hooking up a few times either way, and then it just happened”
“It didn’t just happened, Steve. Were they being safe?” Robin corrects him.
“She said they were, but the condom must have broken or something. Apparently they don’t provide 100% safety” he explained.
“God, she’s my age… and wasn’t she studying as well? She wasn’t working yet” you ask him.
“Yep, she was still studying. Imagine if it happened to you now, it would change your whole life” Steve comments.
“Yeah…” you start thinking how it would affect you, how much of an impact it would make on your life.
And suddenly you can’t stop thinking about it, fearing it. You’re not ready to have kids! But neither was Rebeca and then one day she woke up and she was.
The only person you’re having relationships with is Eddie, and similarly like Rebeca, you’re not in a relationship with him.
You don’t even really know if you want kids or not, but if you’d have them you’d imagine it at least be with someone you’re in love with.
Actually, let me paraphrase that.
At least it would be with someone you’re in a serious relationship with.
Because you do really like Eddie, but you know he doesn’t feel that way. So this arrangement was fine because of that, you know nothing more would ever happen so you’re not expecting it from him.
So for a few days you have been… you wouldn’t say ignoring him, but re-thinking some aspects of this arrangement… without answering his calls.
“Hey, Robs?” you pick up the phone.
“Fucking finally. Oh so you do pick up the phone to Robin?” You hear Eddie’s voice.
“Fuck- no, I was just waiting for her call. But I was gonna call you later” you lie- well, a few days can also mean ‘later.’
“Whatever, do you wanna come over?” he asks and you realize you are going to have to do this eventually.
“Yeah, sure”
When he opens his door for you, you start feeling nervous. After he lets you in you see he’s trying to greet you with a kiss, one which you stop before his lips touch yours.
He takes a step back and you see his face, filled with worry and fear.
“Eds, I came here to talk” you explain.
And now his face falls, he realized what you meant.
“Okay” he says either way.
“I’ve been- thinking a lot about this… Rebeca’s situation-“
“Oh, come on” he interrupts, “when Steve said it was similar to you it didn’t mean it was going to happen to you as well”
“But it could! Eddie, I’m also studying to become somebody, I’m also not working and with no intention on starting to soon, I’m also just twenty years old with no idea of what I want for my future, but I sure as hell don’t want a baby now. And it’s not like we’re being very careful, Eddie. For God’s sake, they were using a condom and it broke or just didn’t work, we’re not even doing that!” you explain.
“Okay, we can just be more careful, but we don’t have to stop all of this”
“That’s the other thing… she was also just hooking up with someone and now they’re bounded forever. She didn’t even like him that much and now she has a fucking kid with him!” you tell him and Eddie stays silent for a while, thinking of what you said.
“…Do you also feel that way?” he asks nervously.
“What?” you ask confused of what he means.
“Do you also… don’t even know if you like him?” he asks with a straight face this time, waiting for your answer.
“That’s not what I said”
“Okay, I’m asking you now” he kept insisting.
“Do you even feel that way?” you kept dodging his question. You weren’t going to admit to him that you liked him just for him to reject you.
He sighed, tired of this. “I fucking like you- I’m actually fucking crazy about you if I’m being honest. That’s why I’m trying to not break this whole thing up because it’s the only way I’m able to have you, even if it’s just sex and it shouldn’t mean anything”
“Are you- being serious?” you ask sceptical.
“Yes” he admits one more time.
It’s your time to sigh in frustration now, head back and everything. But because you can’t believe how stupid the two of you could be.
You run to him without saying a word and you see the confusion on his face, but you quickly grab it and pull him closer to finally give him that kiss. Only it’s with a passion and love that the first one wouldn’t have had, or maybe it would be hidden.
He kisses you back grabbing you by your waits and pulling you even closer.  
Pulling apart slightly, you look into Eddie's eyes where you find warmth, relief, and an unmistakable spark of love.
"I guess we've been idiots, huh?" you say, breaking the silence.
"Yeah, we have" Eddie replies with a small laugh, his eyes still locked onto yours.
“I’ll start taking the pill from now on” you can finally decide since now it’s no longer meaningless.
He smiles, leaning in to give you another lingering kiss, “Yeah, that’d be great”, he whispers against your lips.
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stveharringtn · 2 days
Note
one of the single dads their kids runs off in the park and a beautiful stranger saves them from being hit by a car or something and invites them to dinner as a thank you
i chose eddie if that’s okay!! thank you for requesting . i also kind of changed it, if that’s okay !!!<333 w; children if u don’t like children, eddie almost having a heartattack
“maya!” his heart is in his throat and he’s pacing every inch of the park. mothers are glaring at his loud voice, hands not so subtly reaching for their own child’s hand and pulling them away from what seems to be a crazed man.
he yells out her name again, eyes burning as he stops. his hand lifts and he scratches at his head and spins every which way.
he should’ve been watching more. he only looked away for a second and now she’s gone.
“daddy!” he spins quickly, letting out the biggest breath of relief as he falls to his knees. his arms immediately scoop her up into his embrace. she giggles and kicks her feet, the tutu she just had to wear leaves sparkles on his black shirt.
“please… don’t ever run away like that again, okay? daddy about had a heart attack.”
she giggle and stares up at him with big brown eyes, tilting her head. “she saved me!” she points towards you who was still standing there, making sure this man was actually her father.
“a real life princess.” she tries to whisper, but maya has no concept of whispering and it makes you giggle softly.
eddie stares at you dumbly, blinking as he nods. “uh, yes,” he stands quickly, dusting the grass from his knees. “i’m… i’m eddie.”
you introduce yourself and shake his hand that he holds out. “this little one stopped near my cart near the road. i didn’t want her getting hit by a car or anything.”
“well, thank you for bringing her back to me. i… uh, i’d like to thank you, really. if-if that’s okay?” he tilts his head.
you flush and nod. this man was pretty and had a shy way with words (that you know of). “yeah… ice cream maybe? i’m on my break now.”
“ice cream!” maya cheers, jumping up and down.
eddie chuckles and nods. “ice cream it is.”
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Text
Out of The Woods
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pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
summary: A look back into our reader's past, and a run-in with one, too.
chapter warnings: slow burn,mentions of grief, parental loss, motherhood, swearing, alcohol(ism), child neglect, childhood trauma. Maggie fluff to fix it all <3
a/n: EEP EEP EEP, i know i know its a slooooow burn but we truly are just getting started. Enjoy!
chapter two: Tell Me A Lie || series masterlist
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SEPTEMBER 17th, 1982
Freezer-burnt Egos sit three high on the olive green plate in front of you.
“Great.” Syrup hasn’t been purchased in weeks, so you slather each one with a smear of grape jelly. All served up with a side of tap water.
One bite in, and the sound of shattering glass startles the appetite out it you.
“Dad?!” You shout in a panic.
The sight that greets you on the living room is one that’s become familiar in the few months since your mom’s passing. Your father, slumped over in his beat up recliner, a shattered vodka bottle on the floor next to him.
“Shit…” you’re frantic as you rush to grab the broom and dustpan. It’s become a routine, clean up dad’s mess so that he doesn’t hurt himself when he wakes for his night shift at the Plant.
While it may be routine, it’s certainly not normal. No fourteen year old should be shopping for groceries, and doing laundry and writing checks to the electric company with a letter begging for them to give her a little more time with the lights on.
Every payday, you’d wait for Dad to pass out in his chair, and you’d take most of the cash from his wallet. It was just enough to get yourself food for the week and pay what you could. If he noticed the missing money, he never said anything, but you assumed he did notice that debt collectors had stopped calling so much.
“Bye, Dad.” You whispered. No response—then again, there never was.
The bag of glass was thrown into the trash on your walk to the garage. Hopping on your rusted out silver bike, you started the 2 mile ride to Hawkins High.
In truth, this has become the only slice of peace in your day. You could shut your damn brain off and just breathe. Not worry about the inevitable chaos that waited for you at home.
It was Friday, which means a meeting with the school counselor to see how you were doing since your mom died. June was…it was a time you’ve tried to block out. To suppress any memories or feeling from that awful day.
“Did you hear me, hon?” Ms. Kelly’s soft voice pulled you from your dissociation.
“What? Oh, mhm.”
She looked at you softly, tilting her head as a sign she absolutely did not believe you.
“Listen,” she pulls the file off her desk and turns it for you to see. “Your grades…they’re not at all reflective of your abilities. Your teachers think you’re brilliant, but the lack of effort on homework and tests is something of a concern.”
The pain of holding back tears began to prickle your throat. “I know, I’m—I’m trying. I’m studying as much as I can—“
“You’ve got such a bright future, just work a bit harder, hm?” Her smile was one of reassurance and confidence.
It’s not Mrs. Kelly’s fault. She didn’t know about what was happening at home, so she certainly didn’t know the impact of her advice.
“Work harder,” you whisper, venom coating your tongue. “Got it.”
The smile on your face is only there to keep the tears at bay. She excuses you to get back to next period, and you practically sprint from her office.
Where your legs take you, you’re not exactly sure. But the room is empty and dark and at this point you’ll take any refuge you can get.
So you sit and sob, heaving breaths and crying into your palm to muffle any sounds. How long you were there you have no idea, but it was long enough to hear the bell for end of the school day.
The door to the room opened, pouring in light from the hallway.
“Shit…you okay?”
His voice was so gentle and unsure. Backlit as the door closed, the shadow of his silhouette almost made him look like an angel.
Long shaggy hair, denim and chains and leather.
An angel--dressed like a devil.
You attempted to stand quickly, muttering a half-hearted apology, but you stumbled. Luckily for you, the stranger caught your elbow and waist.
“Whoa, hey just—here, sit for a sec, okay?” He guided you to the table across from where you’d sat, and ushered you towards one of the chairs.
“You’re not hurt are you?” His voice was so soft; a kindness you hadn’t heard in a long, long time.
You shook your head, “No, no. I’m fine.”
He laughed softly, “You sure about that?”
The tears in your eyes put holes in his chest.
“I’m Eddie,” he sat next to you on the table, “Who might you be?”
You whispered your name, and he smiled, then whispered it right back.
Eddie was gentle with you. He sat in silence for a few minutes, waiting for your breathing to return to normal.
What you didn’t know was how he watched you. The way he recognized the pain in your eyes—a kind of sadness that only people who’ve experienced it can understand.
He knew a bad home life when he saw one, and It made him angry.
Angry that someone could look in your eyes and hurt you. That people could see how broken you were and take advantage of it. Worst of all? He was angry there was no one there to protect you.
As far as he was concerned, that changes today.
Eddie cleared his throat, and your eyes found him again. “Look at us,” he nudged your shoulder. “strangers a couple minutes ago, now we’re acquaintances. Who knows? Before we leave we might even be friends.”
A genuine and true laugh escaped you. It’d been so long since you’d heard your own laugh, the sound alone was foreign.
Though for Eddie, it was a sound that made his heart beat faster and face turn rosey, even under the gross fluorescent bulbs.
“I’d like to be your friend, I think.” You smile. Crinkles formed by his umber eyes as he mirrored your grin.
Your hand juts out, extended to him for the taking. “You’re not a serial killer, right?”
His warm grip finds yours, “Not to your knowledge.”
There’s a pain in your cheeks from smiling so hard. “That’s reassuring.”
Eddie jumped up, offering you his elbow. “Whaddya say, kid? Care to cause some chaos and debauchery with your new pal?”
It’d be easy to say no. To allow yourself to return to the shell you’ve built around yourself in order to protect your heart in a way no one else would.
But you didn’t hesitate. Linking arms with Eddie, his scent invaded you—nicotine and weed and…vanilla? Whatever the combination, you’re sure it was uniquely and perfectly him.
“Whatcha got in mind?”
Eddie could have said anything and you’re pretty sure you’d have agreed. “Oh, sweetheart. Just you wait.”
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“Mama! Do we have any straw’bies?” Maggie asked from the kitchen.
The smell from the chemicals you’re cleaning the shower with make your head throb and the sweat on your brow itches you for the ten millionth time.
Deep breathes. Deep breathes.
“No, Mags. C’mon, get your shoes on. As soon as I’m done here we’re going to the store.” You throw the yellow gloves down into the sink, giving them a quick rinse.
The weekend has brought some seriously good progress. Friday you’d managed to get Maggie registered for school, and start cleaning out the house.
Boxes of old newspapers and tchotchkes your father had kept sat stagnant, collecting dust and taking up far too much space. None of it mattered to you, so you’d trashed it.
All of it.
Saturday was spent taking trips back and forth to the Goodwill, hoping and praying your little car would survive after all the driving she did. You’d bought a few cheap gallons of paint from Melvald’s, this house was your home now—Maggie’s home. It was time to wipe the slate clean and create a place the two of you could fill with love and laughter and memories
“Mom?” Maggie mumbled, mouth full of banana as she watches you slink into your jacket.
You grabbed your keys. “Yes, angel?”
“Can we get ice cream? Wouldn’t that be a fun way to ce-bre-late me going to big girl school tomorrow?”
I need to find a damn job.
You do some quick math, adding and subtracting based on what you had left in your savings, and what you’d set aside for bills.
You drop to your knees in front of your daughter, getting right down to her level to place a big kiss on her forehead. “Of course we can. Good idea, Maggie-moo.”
Her dimples were so deep from her big wide grin, you poked a finger in each of them.
“Moooom!” She laughed, swatting your hands away.
“Whaaaat? I just love you! Now c’mon, we gotta go get your asparagus.” You hold the door and Maggie jumps onto the porch.
“Ice cream!” She shouts, making a mad dash to the car.
You chuckle. “Right, right. Ice cream.”
The store is a mere 10 minutes drive from home. If you ask Maggie, she thinks 10 minutes is the perfect amount of time to throw an impromptu concert from the back seat—room for encore included.
The moment your hands grasp the shopping cart, Maggie’s arms are up. “Assuming the position, I see.” You smile proudly.
Scooping her up, you plop her right on her bottom into the cart. Maggie wiggled, gasping as the two of you strolled past the chip aisle. “Don’t forget! We have to get some snacks for school too!”
“Right,” you braked, and turned down it. “Let me guess, Doritos are the perfect school snack?”
Her eyes are wide, clearly overwhelmed at the selection the Pete’s Grocery has to offer. “Can we gets the cheese ones?”
“Sure thing, Sunshine.”
Shopping is entirely uneventful. It’s mainly you budgeting and planning on dinners for the week. Everything bought has to have more than one use or purpose, or you don’t get it. A few jars of pasta sauce, some spaghetti, a loaf of bread, peanut butter and jelly. Chicken, canned corn, strawberries and bananas and a few boxes of mac n cheese. No the shopping spree Maggie thinks it is, but you’ll make it work.
“Alright kiddo, now the piece de resistance…the ice cream section!” You use your best announcer voice as you scoop her from the cart, and let her roam free.
She squeals. “Mom! There’s so many kinds!”
You watch her, taking in how the littlest things in this life make her the happiest you’ve ever seen her. You’re so engrossed in your daughter, you almost don’t hear it. The familiar tone that had engrained itself in your memory, the sarcastic “Sure, Robin.” that had been a staple in his vocabulary since High School.
Any calm feeling you’d had vanished, stomach churning inside you. “Mags,” you called in a hushed tone. “Maggie! C’mon, baby, just choose—“
The voices were an aisle away, and moving closer to you.
Maggie was in her own world, running back and forth to different doors in careful deliberation.
You could feel yourself start to tremble, calling her a bit louder this time. “Maggie-moo, please hurry—“
“Ho-ly shit.”
Of course Robin was the first to say something. She stood with her mouth agape, Steve perplexed next to her. When he’d followed her gaze, the two bags of chips he was holding fell to the floor.
He called your name like he was unsure. Questioning if the ghost in front of him was really his friend from all those years ago.
“Mommy! I founded the one I want!” Maggie screeched as she barreled toward you, clutching a box of Bomb Pops to her chest.
Your two old friends’ eyes went straight to your daughter.
Robin’s eyes were so wide, you thought they’d burst from her skull. “Mom?” She questioned.
Steve followed her up with, “No freakin’ way.”
Maggie chucked the pops in the cart, and stood by your side, your arms instinctively reaching for her. She must have followed your eyes, because soon, she too was in the middle of the staring contest the three of you had started.
She was quiet for a moment, studying them, and it wasn’t that long before she started giggling the tiniest bit. She covered her mouth, making herself laugh with whatever joke was rolling around in her little mind.
Maggie walked up to Steve as she laughed, and smiled her big toothy grin at him. “Hiya, Cheeseball!” She spoke through her giggles.
Robin’s laugh caught her so off guard she started coughing, and Steve was all smiles. “Excuse me? Who told you about my nickname?”
Maggie laughed, “My Mommy! She said your name is Steeb and you’re a real cheese ball!”
“Steve, Mags. Steve.” You were laughing, thankful for your daughter for saving you and for easing the tense moment you were seconds away from having to address.
“Nope, uh-uh. He’s Steeb now, from this day until his last.” She looked at you, get big smile taking up her face. Her eyes were soft, softer than they’d been moments ago. She looked back to Maggie, “And who’re you?”
Pride filled Maggie’s voice, “My name is Maggie and I’m six years old, but I’ll be seven soon! Mommy telled me birthday is Star Wars day.”
Robin’s brows pinched together, “Star Wars Day?”
“May the 4th.” You and Steve answered in unison.
The hazel-eyed boy looked at you, offering you a small smile.
Robin went back to talking to Maggie, asking her about Star Wars and her why she chose Bomb Pops. Steve walked over to stand next to you.
He plopped the chips in the top of your cart, and without any hesitation, pulled you in for a hug.
“God, I missed you.” He whispered into your hair.
You could feel the emotion squeezing your throat, “I missed you so much, Stevie.”
He held you a few more seconds, using Robin as a distraction. “Is…is she—“
You gripped him tighter, “Not here. Please not here, Steve.”
Steve Harrington was many things, but dumb wasn’t one of them. A bit of an airhead, and clueless sometimes, but not dumb. He’d seen it immediately, the resemblance between the two of you, and the one of Maggie and his other friend.
Steve let you go, looking over your face. “Does, um…does he know?”
With shame in your heart, you shook your head. “No, and I need to keep it the way.”
The for now went unsaid.
Steve nodded. “You haven’t ran into him yet then, I take it.”
“No,” you whispered. “I don’t even know what would happen if we did. Can’t think about it, not right now.”
Maggie approached the two of you, yanking Robin by her arm. “You were right, Mom! I do like this Robin lady.”
When the laughter died down, it was then Robin asked the question looming over the four of you.
“So, and pardon-my-french Little Miss M, but what the hell are you doing back in Hawkins?”
And with that, the floodgates opened.
You told them about what you’d been up to the last seven years, and what brought you back. Granted, you kept everything very Maggie-friendly—meaning most of your words were very PG friendly.
It was a weird feeling, admitting to all of the half-truths you told yourself, and how you had to push them out of your life. You wanted to tell them anything but the truth. To spare their feelings and the thought that you too could just as easily abandon the people who, at one point, were some of the most important people in your life.
"That's...that's heavy shit." Steve breathed.
You nodded, fully aware of the hanger-ticking-timebomb Maggie was becoming.
"We'll, uh...we'll catch up soon. Gotta get the grouch dinner."
"I am not a grouch." Maggie crossed her arms, and turned away.
"Of course you're not! You're just a girl who knows what she want." Robin high fived Maggie, and your heart melted.
You hugged them both one more time before loading Mags back in the cart, "Stop by anytime," You said with a smile. "You know where I live."
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