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eddiernunson · 1 year

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Trapped | Eddie Munson | Part 7 | 18+

Previous Part | Master Post | Next Part

[The next part will be out by end of February]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Warnings: Several instances of unprotected P in V sex, (wrap it up), public sex, if you squint (or close your eyes, really) there's public humiliation?, daddy kink continues, and mentions of sex but i dont describe the actual scenes. They get high together, and I basically just describe the first time I got high. (if you want to skip, it doesn't affect the story.) Wholesome mentions include a family dinner with Wayne, get together with all the friends excluding the Byers first I love you, and just everyday musings.

Author's Note: Christmas and January kicked my ASS. I had an inkling of what to do but no literal layout until like Friday. I apologize for this terribly inconsistent posting schedule and there will be a much smaller chapter posted by the 28th. I'm uber excited after the next chapter cause then we're all caught up and my plan is to write the season with the character written in (My goal from the beginning.) I just wanna note I don't ship Mike and Will, because I think Will deserves better. I think it's clear where Mike's priorities lie, and it's not with him.

MINORS DNI for the smut. Seriously. Please.

This should not be this weird.

You stared at the sides of the VHS tapes, organizing the metal bin of discounted vintage tapes. Your right pinky delicately moving the furthest tape up and down, rotating lightly. You were working in silence on November 1st, 1985, a quiet evening in Family Video the day after a Halloween that seemed to cause a big ruckus in Hawkins.

While Steve’s party usually ended up in numerous hangovers and regrets, today it was as if the entirety of Hawkins felt the dreary, murky feeling in the atmosphere. This Halloween just hit different.

That might’ve just been you though, waking up in Steve’s bed in-between him and your boyfriend. You flashback to the night before, and Steve’s brown eyes looking up at you between your legs hits you like a freight train. When Eddie wakes up, he only sees Steve, wondering downstairs to see you perched cross legged on Steve’s couch next to a jock that fell asleep with his hips on the arm rest.

“You okay?” He asks, reaching out to comfort you.

You look up at him, wide eyed and worried. “Did I have-” you look around to see if anyone is awake and continue, “did I have a really, really vivid dream last night?”

Eddie laughs. “Dunno, did you want it to go on longer last night?”

You feel your cheeks heat up; you bite back a smile that creeps onto your face. “Fuck.” Your hand goes up to your forehead in disbelief. “You’re okay with it?”

“Okay with it?” Eddie laughs scooching his tiny waist in between you and the jock. “Princess, I instigated it. I could’ve told him to fuck off. I didn’t. I asked him to join.” Eddie chuckled. “I was already enchanted by your amazing pussy,” you looked around anxiously when he said this too loud, “but Harrington just looked so good. Weird, since he was Peter fucking Pan.”

“Oh. Okay.” You state dumbly.

You sat with him on the couch for another half hour, neither of you quite ready to go back to the real world. As you were held on tight in a hug with him, sat on his lap, you see the party king making his way down the stairs, now in pajamas and his hair damp from a shower.

Subconsciously your body turns to face your boyfriend and your heart is the only thing you can hear and feel. You vaguely hear Harrington’s voice from the next room. “Mornin! Sleep well, you alcoholics?”

Eddie retorts with something you were sure was witty as he was but all you can think of is getting out of the house so you can stop over thinking it. “Hey, I’m feeling pretty hungover can we go?” You ask Eddie, feeling guilty about talking in a way so Steve wouldn’t hear you.

Eddie looks taken aback by your request; his brown eyes noticeably confused. “Are you sure? I’m pretty sure Harrington will have a concoction to help with that if you need it.”

You wiggle closer to him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m feeling shy,” you whisper, an uncontrollable smile crept onto your face.

“Shy?” Eddie asks, feigning ignorance.

“I have wondered for ages what that would’ve been like, and I knew it would never happen because neither of us were interested in each other the way Nance and Steve once were. It was harmless curiosity.” You pause when it sounded like Steve was on his way to the living room. “Now it’s a bizarre reality and I have no idea how to-how to be around him. Let me avoid him until I see him at work tonight.”

Eddie stared at you wordlessly, a reaction you’ve seen on him only a handful of times. The times would be when his club members are saying something and it’s just so wild to him, he can barely contain it. “Um, sweetheart. You could just talk to him now.”

“Please?” You ask, tilting your head and doe-ing your eyes up.

“You’re lucky you’re so pretty.” He mutters, getting off the couch in a graceful leap. “Alright. Go grab your shit and I will make something up.”

You run back up to Steve’s room, eyes avoiding the bed as you search the sunlit room for your costume’s accessories, Eddie’s wings and halo he ripped off in his drunken haze. You run back down the stares, Eddie already putting on his leather jacket you hadn’t noticed he had placed on the coat hanger the night before.

“Sure ya can’t stay?” You hear Steve’s voice what felt like right in your ear and the crook of your neck. To be fair, he wasn’t quite that close to you, your senses just felt heightened. Your stunted reaction of jerking back both amused and confused the hell out of your boyfriend, though. You turn to face Steve, something you’d hoped to avoid. Unfortunately, a combined trauma and three years of casual acquaintanceship that lead into friendship meant Steve knew when something was off. He didn’t say anything about it. “I make a mean hangover cure.”

“I feel like shit, and we still have work tonight. I’m going to take a minute and rest.” My ass needs it, you thought, wondering what the collective response would’ve been if you said it. “I’ll see you later.” You give him your best attempt at a natural smile, to which Steve gives a huh look over you to Eddie when you turn away to the door. Eddie shrugs, laying his arm around your shoulder.

Now, here you are, no choice but to face Steve as he hovered around you as the loud silence of your nails ticking against the plastic covers deafened your ears. You came into work, barely making it after a short nap to wallow in your anxiety with your mom calling upstairs when she had realized you haven’t gotten up for work yet. Steve hung onto you like a magnet as soon as you bolted in, letting you know there’s loads of tapes to return after he rewound most of them and he’ll need your help.

You saw right through him of course, but you agreed with your most convincing smile and avoided his brown eyes staring a hole into your head. Though, an hour into your shift it seems he had enough. “Ok, cut the shit. What’s wrong?”

The harsh tone behind his words startled you into looking him in the eyes for the first time since making fun of Robin with him towards the end of the night when she couldn’t wrap her head around it. Your mouth moved to speak, and you backed out last minute, looking back down to your task at hand. Lots of horror movies returned, you noted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shit. Your voice wavered through that; you were unconvincing even to yourself.

Suddenly Steve’s green vest over a dark pink loose shirt tucked into his jeans was in your direct line of sight, hands on his hips, sporting a reprimanding look he usually saves for Dustin. “Seriously. Look at me.”

You look up, guilt evaded your brain as the genuine concern was displayed on his face.

“Did you not want-?” Steve asks, and it doesn’t even occur to you he’d be worried about this.

“It’s not that.” You shake your head hurriedly. “I promise. I knew what was happening and agreed wholeheartedly.”

“Then why the cold shoulder?” He asks, his voice softer and laying his hand on your arm, soothing with his thumb. You look down at it, fixated on how gentle he was. “Y/N. You’re going to have to answer me eventually. I will sit here for the rest of your shift don’t test me.”

Your eyes went back up to his face, and it felt like your anxiety bubbled to a stop. “I’m worried.” You start, moving to lift another VHS tape back until Steve stops you so you can focus on him. “I used to wonder what it might’ve been like on the occasion that I would hear a rumour or two and I figured it wouldn’t happen on the idea that sometimes you become too close to someone. I didn’t think it was a mutual notion.”

“You’re very wrong about that, go on.” Steve mentions casually.

“I-ok.” You pause, the sentence repeating itself in your mind. “I was afraid it would be different. I don’t want it to be. How do I interact with you knowing what I now know?” You glance at him; he seems bewildered by your thought process. “I overthink everything. I’ve never done anything like that, and I don’t know how to be normal.”

“Darling. You don’t think. Just do. I won’t judge you for what I heard before I joined, during, the aftermath. If I did, I wouldn’t have such a great reputation about it.” He takes his hand off yours, returning to work. “I will you treat you normal. It might take you a minute, but you’ll get into the swing of it. Avoiding me might’ve just made it worse though.”

Your eyes rolled at him, already feeling better that Steve was willing to go back to normal. “I am shy!” You claim, putting more Friday the 13th movies away.

Steve couldn’t hold back. “That’s not what you said last-” He didn’t even finish- you didn’t let him. You whacked him with a VHS, admittedly a little too hard. Steve ran off, giggling like a mad man towards to where Robin was rewinding the last of the tapes.

Wait, what did Steve hear before he joined? “Steve!”

A happy blissful two weeks passed by, a World Geography test you both crammed for during a night that ended up with you bent over his dresser, and nights spent with the Hellfire club and him finally convincing you to play in occasionally. After Dustin and Mike spend the two weeks grovelling and bothering Eddie, eventually you, Dustin, Mike, Eddie, Nancy, Robin, Steve, Max, and Lucas are all downstairs at the Wheelers with a game of Catan in front of you.

How the hell Dustin Henderson manages to convince people to play games like this is beyond you. It was beyond Eddie as well, complaining on the way over to the Wheelers’ residence. “I don’t know how the kid convinces so many people to do play board games with him. I have spent years building my recruitment skills. How the hell does he do it?”

You laugh, pulling yourself out of a soft gravity of bliss you were feeling as he held your hand and sang along quietly to the soft rock on the radio. “Mostly through bribing and relentless begging. It only works on people who find him somewhat amusing. You should see him attempt to recruit outside of the circle. It’s a nightmare.”

“Still though.” He pauses, thumbs drumming against the beat on his steering wheel. “He’s got the makings of a great Hellfire Club leader.”

“Don’t tell him that.” You say, shifting in the fabric seats as you turn the final corner to the Wheelers. “The kid worships you. Plus, if you offered him the spot then told him you’re taking the throne I think he’d riot.”

Eddie laughs, lifting his hand to your face to frame it fondly and stares at you for a moment too long considering he was still driving. The look you have always wanted to see him staring at you with was well worth it. “No, he’s also just more knowledgeable than some members who have been going to the club for years. I think it just makes sense.”

“When are you planning on telling him this? I’m pretty sure he’s been plotting and campaigning for taking over your role since the end of September.” You comment, remembering the plotting of him with an exasperated Steve Harrington at Family Video one night.

“I’m waiting to see what he gets me for Christmas.” Eddie laughs, signalling to turn into the driveway.

It seems the two of you were fashionably late, coming down to a basement full of teenagers waiting impatiently. “Finally!” Dustin exclaims, ripping out the boardgame as soon as you were in sight.

“Busy were ya?” Robin asks, a side smirk on her face.

Actually, you were. It is not your fault your boyfriend is relentlessly horny at the worse times. It was hard not to self consciously adjust your hair, wondering if something gave it away. The sharp memory of Eddie straight up grabbing your pussy when you told him there was no time yet feeling large wet spot that has been looming on your panties from watching him practice on his guitar while listening to some music. “I knew you were fucking horny. C’mon bend over for me, we only have a few minutes to make us both cum.”

The silence following Robin’s cheeky accusation was enough to accidentally confirm. “Blame him.” You point, letting go of his hand and laughing at the look of betrayal across his face. A portion of the group laugh out loud, Dustin and Mike mimicking gagging.

Dustin lays out the game, distributes the pieces appropriately and explains the rules. Mike’s family owns the Settler version of Catan, a game that requires trading and early colonialism. It takes a few times for you and Steve to understand the rules and basic concept, but the game gets heated quickly.

Remember, the two eldest Wheelers, Eddie, Steve, Dustin, and Max are all in the same game. This was doomed from the start. You, Lucas, and Robin are pretty much in it for the drama by the half point when you all collectively realized none of you were going to win. Instead, you three started instigating more drama.

Dustin and Max were in the middle of arguing about how she supposedly betrayed the alliance they made. Max is asking where the written contract was, and Dustin claims it was in her word. Meanwhile, though they were separated because of their inability to get along, it somehow made it worse with them arguing across the table after Nancy interjected the road Mike has built. Eddie has gotten himself into a heated argument with Steve, turns out both were after the limited recourse that was clay. You wished that Dustin had thought this through a bit more because you didn’t think this version of Catan was built for these many players.

Steve yells loud enough to make every other argument die, cutting into the amused glance you and Lucas were exchanging. “Ok! We gotta figure this shit out. Eddie. You gotta give me the clay. It was obvious that was my goal first.”

“Oh. You want the clay?” Eddie asks, starting to pick up pieces he had on the board. Uh oh. You don’t know how but you saw this coming from a mile away. “Here! Take it!” Eddie starts throwing them to Steve, he rapid fires them at him, taking no time between each fling.

The individuals surrounding you were a mixture of laughter and annoyance, most of them were both. You could barely pay attention to it, there was this a of emotion in you, your breath hitched sharply as you watched him start to throw Nancy’s road, causing her to interject rather wildly. The realization hit you like a fire truck on the way to a fire across the state with ten minutes until the house burnt down.

Holy shit.

Holy shit you loved him.

You truly loved him.

Your heart rammed in its cage as the knowledge startles you into silence, still watching Eddie with a stupid grin on your face. For all intents and purposes, you were wholeheartedly in love with Eddie fucking Munson. You were waiting for this epiphany to hit you ever since the conversation you had with him in your kitchen at supper with your parents. The amount of phone calls the two of you had and you wanted to blurt it out despite the uncertainty of its truth was nearly overwhelming.

You smiled to yourself, watching as Dustin gets up to point Eddie to where you were sitting, informed he was now kicked out from this round and to sit down next to you so you could keep an eye on him. “Oh, come on! That’s so lame.”

“Think of it as revenge for all the times you doxed perception points for needing to piss, asshole.” Dustin yells a little too loudly.

“Dustin. Tone.” You remind him, noticing a certain trend in tone from him lately.

“Sorry.” He says towards you, understanding he needed to take it down a notch. “Dude. You threw pieces. Not cool. If I did that in D&D I would’ve been killed in a heartbeat.”

“Why do you think I’m a Master and not a player? I don’t have the patience for it.” Eddie laughs walking over to you.

He grabs a chair and places it right next to you, placing his arm around your shoulders. “You okay?” He asks, so close to you if you looked towards him, he would be too close to be in focus.

You let a wide smile spread across your face, the words attempting to bubble out of your mouth. You hold back. Not right now. “I’m great. I just didn’t realize you’d be so competitive.”

“I usually go for the clay because no one else does and it becomes a great asset in the end. I don’t know how Steve deducted that but sometimes I get carried away, you know.”

“I know, baby.” You laugh, Eddie squeezing your shoulder sharply in response.

The game ends with a surprise win from Robin, having suddenly getting into it once she put the rules and noticed certain strategies, she was tired of quietly communicating to her best friend and him ignoring her gesturing. Robin might’ve been terribly awkward at times, but she knew strategy. It worked for her. Dustin pretended to bow down as you all applauded her success, Robin yelling triumphantly in the centre with friends scattered around her in an incomplete circle. You were leant back into Eddie, watching Dustin ask her, nearly hound her on how she managed to do it.

You didn’t even notice the content smile on your face, Eddie kissing into your temple. You leaned into him, enveloping his lips into yours, feeling a whiff of emotion as you tried to silently express the emotions you felt earlier to him.

“You guys are gross.” You hear Max claim, hearing her approach the couch behind you.

The two of you look to her, and Lucas is right next to her, his arm around her tentatively. “Call it what you want. Would you rather us be fighting all the time like my parents?” Eddie asks, grabbing your hand.

“Oh god no.” Max mutters, memories of her fighting parents flashing before her eyes. “You’re just sickeningly cute. I mean me and Lucas kiss but not nearly as cavity inducing as the two of you.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “If you don’t want cavities, you can look away at any given moment. Also don’t think the two of you aren’t cavity inducing as well. You’re adorable, kids. Own it.”

Max’s face scrunches at being called adorable, Lucas looking at her fondly. If Max could only see how this boy stared at her when she wasn’t looking you wondered if she would be so inclined to dump him like she did. Max gulped, smiling half heartedly. You could tell there was something on her mind, yet Dustin and Lucas had both already voiced their concerns and she loudly dismissed it. You’ve been keeping an eye on her, wondering how she was holding up.

Ever perceptive, Max narrows her eyes as to pointedly wonder why you were staring. You stick her tongue out at her, deflecting the act of being caught. Max’s blue eyes roll in response. Lucas is talking to her, his voice soft enough to where you couldn’t make out what he was saying, though you probably weren’t supposed to hear it based on Max’s visible blush and a smile she tries to hold back.

Your attention flips back to Eddie, and you wonder how you’re going to tell him. What if he wasn’t ready to say it yet?

Funnily enough, Eddie Munson, too wrapped up in admiring you and successfully zoning out the argument over the game that is still happening, was wondering the same thing. He had this epiphany when you two went for a drive last week. You were singing Take on Me, a newer song you haven’t quite gotten the lyrics quite down and failed to reach the higher notes, resulting in Eddie barely holding back in his laughter, you are calling him mean before you join him.

While your voice cracked through your high notes, your chin lifted and eyes closed as you gave it a good hard try, he looked over to you, the epiphany hitting him much softer than yours hit you. Yours took the wind out of you, his was as if a butterfly landed on him and kissed him to bless him with it. The last key change with the completely wrong note that escaped your lungs with a screech brought him into laughter.

“Baby. That was amazing. I haven’t heard anyone that off key since Jeff attempted the operatic section of Bohemian Rhapsody.” He laughs grabbing your hand. The words were on the tip of his tongue. He felt them in his throat, threatening to climb out without his permission. Though he had a feeling this was not the moment.

Now, eyes full adoration for you as you carefully weave your pointer finger through his somewhat unruly curls, he was wondering when the best time would be. The words felt stuck in his throat, burning with a desire to crawl out. He felt somewhat worried they would leave without his permission one night, the want to say it between classes or a late-night phone call. He’s been waiting somewhat impatiently for you to say it.

However, your brain has convinced itself he’s not ready for it yet and he would look at you with pity if you had confessed it now.

So, it would still be another two weeks before either one of you confessed.

While Robin isn’t competitive, she is not above bragging. Her intelligence that seems to make up for her lack of knowledge of social cues is made up in strategy and analytics. Usually, you and Robin are making side eyed glances at one another at work, but today you find being a lone sane ranger in what felt like a wilderness of absolute madness. Were you drugged by the Russians again? In another game of D&D that had no curfew due to a long weekend? (Thanksgiving was next week, anyway.)

No, just a bragging Robin Buckley and a salty Steve Harrington.

You were manning the front desk, avoiding them as they were actually driving you crazy for once. Off to the side, they were arguing over changing up the display. You had only heard bits and pieces of their conversation, only enough to understand the gist of what this argument was about. “Well, how do you know my idea isn’t better, huh?”

“Cause my strategy actually won, that’s how!” Robin shoots back without missing a single beat.

Steve yells in frustration, and without any warning he places a nicely toned arm around your shoulder. “Can you please ask Robin to cut it out” he asks, yelling the last three words of his sentence.

“I don’t understand how this is my problem. I didn’t play in the game.” You say, shrugging out of his arm to make yourself clear you’re not on either side of their petty argument.

“You brought the shit disturber!” Steve shouts, gesturing to the door as if Eddie was about to appear at the mention of his name.

Looking over, you hoped he was there to save you from this annoyance. No such luck, Uncle Wayne had stolen him for the night.

You look back to face Steve, the annoyance and disappointment clear on your face. “What Eddie does while playing games is not in my control. If I thought I could control what he does playing anything, you think we would’ve gotten along so easily?” The side of his mouth quirks up for a second, internally laughing and agreeing with you.

He couldn’t show that to you, of course. “Whatever, just have better control over your boyfriend next time. That way I won’t fucking lose.”

“Sure, Steve. It was Eddie’s fault you lost. Let’s say that.” You comment sarcastically, nodding along.

“HAH!” Robin yells from where she and Steve were arguing. Oops. You may have accidentally taken sides.

The arguments don’t die down. By the end of it, you were mentally exhausted from all of it. The Sunday night seemed to droll on, the busiest days for returns but the slowest for renters. After rewinding all the returns and straight up ignoring your coworkers, Steve locks up the store and you walk away from their continued arguments. How the hell did they never get tired of arguing? No wonder you thought they were together, fuck.

As you pull in, you notice a familiar van down the street. No shit.

The front door enters, and your mom comes up to you with a look of kindness as she can tell you were exhausted. Your brain barely registers it, the idea of Eddie being upstairs enough to settle at least a small percentage of your nerves. “Hi, sweetheart. Your supper and a guest are upstairs.”

Your eyes open wide, knowing Eddie parks down the block when he wants to sneak in without the parentals knowing.

“He fell off your bed. Tell him he can use the damn door.” She comments as you start to run up the stairs to your room to avoid the look your mom is giving you.

You open your door, Eddie on your bed cross legged in a pair of plaid pajamas and an old band t-shirt, watching the door in what can be only described as fear.

A beat.

“You fell off my bed?” You ask, your backpack falling off your shoulder as you drop your car keys on the floor.

“Oops?” Eddie asks, face in an odd mix of fear and humour. “In my defense, I have shit balance and I’m impressed I haven’t eaten shit while climbing through your window before.”

Your head tilts. “You did it crawling through the window?”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “Not my finest moment, your mom caught me halfway back out the window.”

You huff, hand landing onto your forehead. Shit, you really loved him.

“Your mom said we have until midnight.”

“See, this is what happens when you don’t wait until I’m home.” You would never tell your mom, and the only others that do know are Nancy and Robin, but Eddie has been spending one or two nights a week spending the night at your house. Uncle Wayne knew that your parents don’t know, but Eddie is 20, you’re 18, he didn’t see the big deal.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t wait until my smoking girlfriend got home.” Eddie puts his hands up, turning it on you. “My bad. I’ll try to hide my charming enthusiasm for you for now on.”

You roll your eyes and fling the shirt you had just taken off to his face. “Hey now! I need to see the goods! You can’t hide them from me!” Eddie runs low into you, like his imitation of a gremlin. “Show me the goods!”

The laughter you fail to hold in bubbles out, and you can’t imagine what your parents must be thinking. Although Eddie sneaking in has become a common practice for the two of you, you still feel anxious as shit until you know they’re in their bedroom asleep.

He can feel you’re still anxious and grabs your cheeks into his hands. “Anxious?”

You nod, still amazed you have the luxury of seeing his brown eyes this close. How was it legal they were so damn pretty?

“Uh,” your breath hitches, and you realize you weren’t breathing. “Mmhm.”

Eddie smirks, and you became afraid of what crossed his mind.

You had a right to be.

“What,” he asks, leaning in. You had hoped he was leaning in to kiss you, but he flies passed your lips and to your ear, “is my pretty girl afraid her parents will hear her being a slut?”

You gulp, your heart beating faster. You can feel the heat of your core getting warmer by the second. Words escape your mind all the sudden, so you nod.

“I mean they were bound to hear it one day,” Eddie chuckles, putting a well thought out hand onto your hip, the thumb rubbing purposely.

Your gulp is audible, Eddie nods in understanding, as if your protest was enough for him to take pity on you, for now. “Okay, maybe not today. But pretty baby does want to, right?”

Your head shakes fast, nodding vigorously. “Yes. Definitely.”

Eddie’s head jerks back, a shit eating grin on his face. “Okay. We’ll wait until 10, their bedtime.”

You tilt your head to see around his body that had backed you up against the wall to the alarm clock on your bedside table. It was 7:08. Three hours. You lean back in, the expression of not wanting to wait so long clear on your face. “Huh?”

“You said you didn’t want them to hear you. C’mon. I wanna show you an evil plot I have formed. I need a new opinion that won’t convince me not to do something just because their character wouldn’t survive it.” Eddie says, grabbing your hand and leading you to the bed, previous talk seemingly forgotten about.

“Then I have to cover the goods.” You respond, realizing you were still half undressed. You run to your dresser, grabbing a pair of shorts and one of his shirts. If he was going to tease you, you could very much do the same. Eddie had made it clear shortly after Halloween short shorts and a shirt of his was a weakness of his.

Two can play that game.

The anticipation was ruthless and unfair for the both of you. Eddie showed you his notes from the fantasy novels he had checked out from the library and how he had planned to use it in the campaign for this upcoming week, and your legs and the smell of your perfume was just intoxicating to him. The slight shift of his eyes moving from his notes down to your legs consistently was enough to make you feel smug.

It was about 9:30, your textbooks out and working on some long question answers together. You were genuinely attempting to some work, seeming as you might as well if you have the time and you need to make sure he still gets his shit done. “Okay, I can’t take it. Put on some damn pants.” Eddie tells you, only a few words on his paper and his pencil beside him.

“Nope. You started it. You made this bed. Sit in it.” You say, not even looking up from where you were writing.

“Fuck. You know I am absolutely going get you back for this, right?” Eddie asks, playing with his rings and flexing his fingers unnecessarily.

You intended to stay focused on your paper, knowing he was up to something. “I look forward to it.”

Eddie glances at the time. 9:35. Fuck. If he gave in early, then you would win. But if he gives in then he gets you. “Princess.” He mutters, and you look up. He crashes his lips onto yours, his mouth open and enveloping your lips into his.

You break from him. “I thought you were waiting until 10.”

“Oh, I am,” Eddie comments, hand soothing you wherever he can reach. “We can make out for twenty minutes. Just gotta keep your hands to yourself.”

“Can you keep your hands to yourself for twenty minutes?” You challenge him, a sly smile making its way onto your face. “You are quite handsy.”

You had him figured out; he finds himself challenged as you stare at him unblinkingly. But if you knew Eddie Munson, you knew he doesn’t back off from a challenge, even if he knew he was backed into a corner. Man doesn’t know how to admit he was wrong. “Can you?” He asks, turning it back onto you.

A smile breaks onto your face, genuine this time. You dramatically push both of your books and the papers off your bed. Eddie lifts his eyebrow at you quizzically. Though he was amused, he couldn’t help but admire how adorable you were. In response to Eddie’s raised eyebrow, you grabbed him by the shirt, yanking him down so the two of you are lying on your bed with Eddie on top of you. On the way down he let out a yelp out of surprise, chuckling as he found his footing and gripped your sheets.

Eddie leaned into you, not giving you any moment to register it. Off the bat you can feel yourself getting antsier, the way Eddie worked his tongue against yours driving the heat downward right into your core.

Slowly, you hear him breathing shallower and shallower. Your hands grabbed Eddie by the nape of his hairline, tugging on it lightly. Eddie lets out a sharp breath, giving you a dark look as he pulls back again.

A bubble of laughter escapes your mouth, despite trying to hold it back. “What? I just touched your hair.”

“Oh, is that the game we’re allowed to play?” Eddie asks, his tone of voice slightly scaring you. “I didn’t know we were allowed to play dirty.”

Eddie meets your mouth with more force now, as if he was doing his best to tug a breathy moan out of you. He leans back from you, using his thumb to tug your bottom lip down and open your mouth. He places the thumb inside, laying the pad of his thumb resting on your tongue. You instinctively start to suck on it, moving your tongue around it. His kisses move down, wet feeling of his tongue combined with your lips trailing down along your neck and into the crook where your neck and shoulder meet. His teeth make their way into the mix, starting to bite and nip and suck along your shoulder and collarbone.

This had brought on the feeling of ecstasy, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. “I thought-hmm” you stutter as Eddie works his tongue expertly against your skin. “I thought our hands were being kept to ourselves.”

Eddie gives an exceptionally strong suck on your collarbone, he looks up, lips kissed bruised and eyes wild as he looks up from his hard work. “Oh, my hands are being kept to myself. We said nothing about our lips.” You give a side-eye, your mind wondering if he was gonna go down on you then if he was so insistent on using his lips. He catches this, narrowing his eyes at you. “What?”

“Nothing.” You lie, unconvincingly.

“Noth-nothing?” Eddie stutters, placing his ringed hand into your hair. “That was not nothing. If I have learned anything about you, its to ask what look I see on your face right now.”

You giggle, feeling shy. “If you don’t keep your lips to yourself why stop at my collarbone?”

“Oh, you shithead.” Eddie mutters, one long lick from your nape to your ear. “You absolute brat.”

His hand leaves your hair and slides them up your arms to place his hands in yours, clutching your hands a tad harder than necessary and moving them above your head. It managed a small whine out of you, slightly wriggling around as his hands had you tied down. Eddie leans down to you, and you’re expecting the dirtiest kisses he can provide you. He gives you light tongue, barely letting you have a taste of the permanent weed that staycayed in his mouth.

His knee jerks forward into your cunt, and you let out a breathy gasp. “How are you feeling, sweetheart, hmm?”

You frown slightly in response, annoyed at his cheeky question. Eddie smiled, giving you a look of satisfaction. He opened his mouth to respond, and a noise down the hallway catches his attention.

Your parents’ door closing.

Eddie’s head snaps towards your clock, it displayed 10:06.

A dark smile is displayed across Eddie’s face, and he yanks himself off your bed and locks your door. His shirt hits the floor as he makes his way back to your bed and you can barely ask what’s going on when he leans back in to lay another kiss on you. “Baby.” He mutters, his hand starts up and down your legs, wasting little time.

“Hmm?” You ask, somewhat in a daze.

“It’s after ten.” He whispers, making you understand the change in atmosphere. “You still want to?”

You giggle, your hands immediately grabbing at the hem of your shirt to take it off. “You gonna fuck me good, Ed?”

“Not Ed,” he mutters, his voice partially muffled by your shorts in his teeth. “Not now.”

“Daddy you gonna fuck me good?”

No words left his mouth, but you saw the darkened eyes as his hands gently finished the shorts’ journey off your legs. You waited in bated breath as you felt Eddie’s hot breath against your thighs next to your pussy. “Look how pretty this pussy is.” Eddie admires you, his finger lightly grazing against your folds. “And she’s so wet, too. I’ve barely even touched you.”

“That’s-that’s a lie and you know it, Ed.” You whine, resisting the urge to slam your legs together in the increased state of vulnerability you feel.

“Not Ed, and it’s…debatable.” Eddie decided, taking in the velvet feeling of the wetness against your entrance. He takes a scoop of your slick and slips it into his mouth for the taste of it and bites back a moan. “Fuck, you taste so good, princess.”

Your hips move restlessly, tired of the lack of touch. “Do-do something, Daddy. Anything. Please.”

Eddie chuckles, taking pity on you. He yanks himself off the bed, ripping his belt off so his jeans come off with one swift move. His underwear is ripped off without another thought. “Anything? How about you?”

Before you can even process what Eddie meant you feel him line his cock up against your entrance, and you moan loudly at the feeling of his cock finally pushing into you after hours of his fingers grazing your skin lighting it on fire. “Holy- oh my god-” you moaned, reeling in the feeling.

Eddie leans into you, lying his body against yours, your tits being pushed up to your ears. “Fuck, your pussy feels so goddamn good, sweetheart. So, so goddamn tight, and wet, and I will never get over how fucking good your pussy is.” Eddie rambles into your ear, voice deep and gruff.

“Move? Please?” You ask him gently, wondering if he even heard what you had said.

“Maybe I just wanna be in you for a little bit.”

“Mmmhm!” You whine, both turned on and angered by the idea. “Please?”

“Since you asked so nicely, my love.” He says, and his first hip thrust makes you forget how gentle he was.

Eddie moves his hand as he thrusts awkwardly so his fingers cling to your clit, rubbing frantically as if he wanted to make you cum as fast as possible. The build up from waiting in a frantic heightened state combined with the lovely foreplay Eddie had so generously provided for you brought on the feeling of your orgasm in the pit of your stomach, fast and startling.

He saw the flutter of your eyelid, felt the squeezing of your thighs, felt your breathing grow shallower by the minute, he could tell you were close. “My baby close?”

You nod, your eyelids struggling to stay open.

“Yeah? Just got my cock in you and you’re already gonna cum?” He asks, the pressure of his thumb tensing up lightly, rubbing it faster.

You nod again, moaning loudly as his thrusts hit harder.

“I don’t know if my baby has been a good enough girl for that, being a brat, n’ all…” Eddie manages, and your brow unconsciously furrows, clear as day you were not a fan of this idea. “No, you think you deserve to cum?”

You nod your head frantically, wordlessly begging for him to show you any kind of mercy.

“I guess I’ll allow it.” Eddie says after pretending to consider it.

The words had set off a flood gate of pleasure stunning you into border lining on completely limp. Usually after such an intense orgasm he would stop, allowing you to catch your breath before he carried on. However, this time intensity of your cunt tightening around his cock so tight had Eddie losing his mind, continuing to fuck you into oblivion.

He made his way up so he was sitting up and you were still on your back, now managing to hit deeper. Though you have been sexually active with him quite frequently, often enough to make anyone blush, making Eddie’s limit extended. Even with this additional experience, sometimes just the tightening of your cunt as you finish around him brings him to his high.

“Fuck, your tight-tight fucking pussy, so perfect, so beautiful, feels so fuckin good, sweetheart.” Eddie grunts, and you’re finally recovered enough to enjoy the blissed out look on his face. “Fuck-” With a final snap of his hips, the familiar feeling of Eddie’s cum filling you up filled your senses. You watched Eddie’s half lidded eyes as he was in the depth of the feeling of his orgasm.

Breath finally fills your lungs after the air being sucked out of it from being able to watch something as hot and ethereal as this boy that you thirsted after for three years cum inside you. How was this real? Nearly two months of you two together and you were still waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Eddie to tell you this was enough experience and now he had wanted to be with someone who he had actually liked.

The insecurity hit you in a place that drove you to sit up and tug him down to lie back on top of you. Eddie had sensed some sort of change in your disposition, the insecurity flashing across your face before he was tugged down to you. “You, you okay, sweetheart?”

“I just really-” the word wanted to leave your mouth. It was sitting in your voice box’s waiting room, reading one of the magazines for the fifth time. Its number was called, again. The word looked up and shook it’s head. It just wouldn’t leave your mouth. “I just hope this never ends.”

“I’m still in you.” Eddie says, lifting his head and giving you a weird look. You laugh together, the bizarre feeling of his cock twitching inside of you as he wasn’t moving, you pulse around him. “Me too, princess.” Eddie leans back onto you, peppering your neck with quick kisses.

You push him off and out of you, now exhausted from your long day at work and remembering you had school the next day. “You’re still coming over next week?” You ask him, watching as he got himself back into his clothes.

“Of course! Wayne not having to cook anything that even resembled a Thanksgiving dinner is a definite RSVP.” Eddie jokes, and you realize he’s about to take off when he slips on his jacket.

“Nothing to do with your girlfriend, huh? Only coming for Wayne’s sake?” you asked, edging him on to admit that you’re the reason he was willing to spend supper with his girlfriend’s parents and his own guardian.

“Wayne would’ve come to eat with them whether or not they had invited him, honestly.” Eddie laughs, doing a last ruffle through his hair. “Oh, sweetheart I have a surprise for you.” He mentions, moving his leg out of your window.

“Ooh! What?” Eddie’s surprises rarely (never) failed you.

“You’ll find out tomorrow morning.” He says, now out your window and giving you a cheeky grin. He leaned in to give you a sweet kiss, sly smile making you weak in the knees. You’re pretty sure seeing this smile alone in the first month of freshman year is what made you fall for him. Despite the internal monologue of telling yourself giving in to his kisses will only encourage him to go on with his bullshit, another part of you loved this part of him and knew your relationship wouldn’t be the same without it.

“This Friday at your house, Ed?” You asked him, leaning against the window as he stayed crouched.

“Just like always, sweetheart.” There’s finality in his voice, and the word still refuses to leave your throat. I love you.

“See you tomorrow baby.”

“Tomorrow.”

If you had a normal night at work last night then you would’ve spent all night tossing and turning, wondering what surprise he would give you.

Over the past six weeks Eddie has realized one way to show he cares is to give you surprises and always have something to pull out of his back pocket. A broken piece of one of his old guitar picks you have displayed on your mirror, an old chain necklace he didn’t wear anymore, a flower he miraculously found in the back alley at the bar his gig was at, and lastly, a movie date that started with wining and dining and ended with highly sinful whisperings into your ear.

The morning started with meeting Eddie in the parking lot, hand in hand to walk in tandem into the school. “Look beautiful today, baby.” He speaks to you lowly, causing your face to heat up.

You don’t respond, afraid to stutter out a response. You walk over to a table where Nancy is currently arguing with Evan, an argument they’ve had since last week.

“-because that’s not what’s important about the story! It’s not about the discrepancies that lead up to it, its about the truth. It’s why we report.” Nancy was exasperated, a notepad full of a nearly finished story (or an idea of the story), using her pen to point at her notepad insistently.

“But Nancy this is a part of the truth! It’s an important detail that tells the whole story, the whole image of what we are telling. No piece of information is unimportant, can’t believe you’d even claim that.” Evan says, sounding genuine.

“Evan this information is hearsay. You have no proof other than speculation to prove it’s true.” Nancy shots back, her jaw hard.

You were going to announce you and your boyfriend’s arrival when you had sat down but this was just entertaining. Their arguments were usually along these lines, Nancy shuts it down in the end and you were looking forward to how she would do it today.

“I have a strong rumour mill to rely on. They’re not wrong very often.” Evan contorts, his voice telling the three of you he thought he had Nancy down.

Nancy glances to you and you realize she’d known you were there all along, giving you a side eye. You both know the rumour mill in town is not always correct. In fact, the two of you have relied on Hawkins’ inaccuracy. “Unless you can give me a congruent resource, it’s a no-go.”

“Yeah, alright, whatever.” Evan leans onto his elbow, tapping the pen on his paper. Suddenly, you find Evan looking at you, a new glint in his eye. “So, any chance-”

“Go away, Evan.” You say, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. “Besides, the frenzy around our relationship has died down by now. I don’t think it would be the hard-hitting piece it would’ve at one point.”

“You’d be surprised how much people want to know.” Evan states, looking around him as if those very people had asked him personally questions about the two of you.

You rolled your eyes. “Dude.” Eddie says, out of patience from hearing you complain about him. You watched as Evan’s glance switched to Eddie and his eyes widen in fear. Sometimes Eddie’s reputation was worth it. “Drop it.”

A conscious effort is used on your part to not seem surprised at how hard Eddie’s voice was. Anything close to what you’d heard before was something he would use in good fun. Evan has been border-lining aggressive about it, despite Nancy’s continuous efforts to get him to cut it out.

Evan nodded slowly, the message was received, he waved wordlessly to Nancy and walked out of the cafeteria, looking back at Eddie with wide eyes.

As soon as Evan was out of earshot the three of you break into laughter, hardly believing his reaction. “Pretty sure he went to go change his pants,” Nancy laughed, closing her notepad.

“Can’t believe that worked.” Eddie says relieved smile on his face.

“You were scary.” Nancy states, switching her glance between you two. ‘Scary’ she mouths at you.

“Your brother seems to think so.” Eddie said, glancing towards where Mike and Dustin were sitting at the Hellfire club table.

“He also says that she ruined you.” Nancy laughs, scratching at the back of her neck.

You roll your eyes, used to Mike’s vague irritation aimed at you about his beloved heartless, demonic Dungeon Master. “He’ll get over it.” You remember. “So, Ed. What are you telling me?”

“I was wondering when you were going to ask me.” Eddie says, leaning into you and putting his arm around you. “Well, sweetheart I called up Harrington last night,” concerning, go on, “and I asked him of a favour.”

“I heard he had already given you two a favour.” Nancy comments, writing in her notebook.

The two of you glance at her, unaware of her knowledge of the incident from Halloween. Anyway.

“Wonder how many people just...know.” Eddie comments, scratching his chin. “Anyway, he got us another reservation at Chef’s Table.”

“No shit.” You comment, excitement about doing the date right this time without the first date jitters. “Same table?”

“Same table.”

“Fuck yeah!” You say, pumping your fist in celebration.

“Don’t waste it!” Steve says, seeing your celebratory pump in the air, not knowing if this is what you were talking about but betting on it anyway.

“Go to work!” Nancy shouts back, pointing to the clock on the wall that stated ten minutes until class started.

“Why do you kick him out every morning?” Eddie asks, kissing you lightly on your cheek after he says it.

“Cause then he would be loitering and I’d rather him deal with me than Principal Higgins or the police.” Nancy states, grabbing her stuff to get to her first class. “I gotta go anyway. Yearbook stuff.”

“Guess we should go to class too, huh?” Eddie asks, getting up from his chair.

“Where did Eddie go?” You ask, looking around him dramatically.

“Shut up.” Eddie mutters, tugging you by the hand to head to your locker, as you routinely did.

The week was uneventful to say the least. Quiet conversations with him in the halls and World Geography, loud exclamations in the cafeteria with Hellfire during lunch, written notes exchanged between you and Robin, and a stupid amount of clownery at Family Video. Don’t be fooled, you were also involved in the clownery of course. Eddie visiting you after his gig on Tuesday was a nice surprise, him sneaking in (again) in his leather get up and you tugging him down so you could make out with him and ride him wearing the headband on his head.

Just the headband.

Eddie did try to convince you to hook up in the custodian closet, but you nervously said no to the offer, too scared of the idea of the janitor opening the door in the middle of it.

The third Thursday of November of 1985 rolled around, and it was suddenly Thanksgiving. Your mother spent all morning preparing for the Munsons to come over for dinner. It was filled with constant favours coming your way and doing the little tasks that get lost in the big picture of Thanksgiving. Sure, it was a holiday to get together with your family before Christmas and it was when the holiday spirit started to kick in but man, is it exhausting to prepare for.

You know you love him but when your dad calls from the living room demanding a drink after your sweet mom who has been slaving away in the kitchen all day you want to tell him to get his own damn shit. She has spent all day preparing fucking dinner, for gods sake.

Dressed in your best dress that is both family friendly and makes your boyfriend’s mouth water (the best kind of dress), you’re setting the last of the table settings and cutlery when the front door knocks, knocking the air out of you in the process. Heaven knows why you were even nervous, Wayne being a familiar face to you and Eddie doing movie night with you and your parents are two considerations that lead to a feeling of familiarity and comfort in your mutual families.

The door was opened to two spritely dressed Munson men, both obviously uncomfortable in their best dressed clothes. You weren’t sure you’ve ever seen Wayne dressed in anything but slightly dirty flannel. You were used to Eddie wearing nicer clothing on the occasion, but you preferred him in leather. Eddie wore a smile, the kind he wore when he wanted to water himself down. Wayne simply oozed discomfort. His face was warm, but you weren’t sure if it was the dress clothes or the forced politeness of a family dinner, but he did not seem at ease.

There you stood, in between your mom and dad, wondering how cheesy the three of you had looked for the moment. Was he fighting back laughter at this sitcom of a scenario? Lord knows you were.

A beat passed and your mom was finally the one to break the ice. “Welcome, gentlemen. Come on in, take your coats off.”

“Thanks for inviting us.” Eddie says, and you hate to admit but it sounded rehearsed. Like he and Wayne had practiced it together on the way over.

“Of course! You are welcome anytime; we just made too much food.” Your mom jokes, and the silence in her laughing is deafening.

“I’m just glad I don’t need to cook anything resembling Thanksgiving. It usually crawls away from our plates.” Wayne gruffs out, clearing this throat. You knew Wayne well enough to know that he was joking back to her.

The two men make their way into the door and shrug their jackets off. Eddie must’ve been wearing one of Wayne’s jackets because it just engulfed him, and you figured Wayne yelled at him not to wear the leather. Ed didn’t have anything else, so he borrowed Wayne’s.

As you all make your way over to the dining area, your father starts talking to Wayne, having been on the nightshift together for the last few months since Wayne had picked them up. The two of them continue their quiet conversation, and this is exactly why you and your mom placed Wayne right next to him. They had someone to partake in conversation about work when you and your mom never completely comprehended what it was that he did at work.

Your mom had you all pray, despite you communicating Eddie’s religious stance. She said that doesn’t make him intolerant of those still choosing to believe, and you were on the fence about this idea.

“So, you two, how are your grades?” Your mom asks right off the bat.

Eddie laughs, still admittedly about a D grade though you had helped him go from an F to a D with passing in homework. “They could probably be better in my case, but they have definitely been worse.”

“And you, Y/N?” She asks pointedly to you.

You look up from where you’re scooping the mash potatoes like a deer in the headlights. “I mean, I don’t have anything below a B. Why?”

“You two just do so much studying I figured you were getting straight As.” Your mom says, eyebrow raised deliberately.

You froze, looking up from your plate with wide eyes and your breathing gains major depth. “Mom!”

Wayne’s laughter catches the whole table’s attention, his hand in a fist with the back of it against his mouth, as if he was holding it in. “Hey, I’ve been telling them that this whole time but they don’t seem to get it.”

You couldn’t even attempt to see if your dad had caught on to what these two assholes were trying to imply off the bat. This goddamn supper was supposed to be a nice family gathering. No. Not in the stars. Dang.

Your glance goes next to you to your boyfriend, and he’s laughing as well. It was more the fact that you were both gained on as soon as they got the chance to rather than humour.

“You think we should leave these kids alone?” He asks, still laughing.

“It’s not as fun if I don’t see her embarrassed.” She says, reaching to you to pet your hair fondly. You jerk out of reach, lowkey pissed. “Why not. Just make sure your nephew starts using the door.”

“Door?” Wayne asked, unsure where this could lead to.

“Mmhm. He seems to insist on using my daughter’s window even though I have told him I will keep the door unlocked or give him a key if it means his van doesn’t startle me for the thousandth time.” Your mom tells him, shooting a cheeky glance towards Eddie.

“Edward” Wayne starts, and your mom finally learns his full name for when she wants to yell at him.

“Hmm?” Eddie turns his head to Wayne, already decided he will still use your window.

“Use their front door or you’ll likely not be welcome at their house anymore.” Wayne explains casually, as if he wasn’t telling off his nephew in front of another family.

“Yes sir.” Eddie nods, and his leg shaking mixed with his hand placed gently on your thigh somehow sends a message he wasn’t planning on stopping any time soon.

“So, Wayne. Just out of curiosity-” oh no, “why were you the relative chosen to raise your nephew?” Mom what the fuck?

Two hours and a buttload more of embarrassing questions from your mom and Wayne being a good sport throughout it all, you’re stuck doing the dishes again. How did you do the prep all day and clean up after it now? You swear you were swaying on the spot as you dried the dishes your boyfriend was carefully washing.

You could hear the idle conversation going away from how Wayne grew up through invasive questions during supper to mindless yet comfortable chatter, and it was terribly comforting. “You okay?” Eddie’s voice interrupts your eavesdropping, and you were startled out of it.

“Hmm?” You ask, looking up at him.

“You okay, princess?” Eddie asks, his movements paused as he expressed his concern.

“Why?”

“You’re rocking back and forth. You’ve also been drying this plate for more than five minutes.” Eddie says, gently grabbing the plate from you.

You shook your head, hoping it shakes you out of it. “I-I’m ok.” Sighing, your hand on your forehead to gain a hold of yourself. “I’ve been up and working in the kitchen since this morning. I’m just tired.”

“Sit down. I’ll finish the dishes.” Eddie states, guiding you to a chair.

“No, no it’s fine. I can do it-” you try to tell him, but he is having none of it.

“Sit.” Your butt lands on the wooden chair and the relief as your forehead hits the table is immediate.

“Put the dishes on the counter if you’re not sure where they go, I can finish it off” you tell him through the table, and Eddie slowly finishes the rest of the dishes by himself.

It feels like only two minutes pass by, and your mom walks into the kitchen, “Hey Eddie when you have a minute-” she stops midway through his sentence, seeing you dead asleep on the table.

Eddie turns toward you fondly, smiling softly as he watched the softness of your breathing as you slept. “She passed out basically the moment she sat down.” Eddie says, finishing drying the last of the dishes. “I was just going to finish cleaning up then wake her.”

“Oh. Okay. Um, when you have a minute your uncle said you do labour chores when you need extra cash mind stopping by when she’s at work on Sunday?” Your mom asks, and Eddie nods wordlessly. “Thanks.” Your mom steps out of the kitchen, and her brain has malfunctioned. For the last few weeks, she has caught him looking at you fondly and it assures her that he is someone who cares for you, but this look startled her. That look was not care; it was love. She had wondered if you two had even said the word yet. She had heard certain things, so she knew that was out of the question, but this was a whole new concept to her, and she needed a moment to wrap her head around it.

Eddie finishes putting the plates on the counter places his hand gently on your back. “Baby.” He mutters, hoping not to startle you wake.

Jokes on him, you always startle awake. “Hmm?” You jerk up off the table.

“Hi. Hi.” It takes you a moment to comprehend and for Eddie’s face to unblur in front of you. “You fell asleep. I think we should get you to bed.”

“Does that mean you’re leaving?” You ask pathetically, your mind not completely awake and aware that your parents can all hear this conversation.

He chuckles and wraps his arm around you. “Probably.” You whine about it, still tired and now cranky from being woken up. “We can talk about it, I promise.”

He escorts you up the stairs, aware of all six eyes watching the two of you as if it was the sweetest thing they’ve ever witnessed. God, adults are weird. When you were laid down onto the bed you curled up immediately into your pillow, a content smile making its way onto your face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, yeah?” Eddie asks, sitting next to you, not even sure if he’ll get a response. You just hummed. “You better remember.” Nothing came out. “Sweetheart?” he asks, and he’s sure you’re out cold. He leans in to kiss you on your head and mutters, “I love you” and shuts the door as quietly as he can behind him.

Thank God for long weekends. On an ordinary weekend when you had slept over at Eddie’s (Wayne always made sure he was away for the night; more for his sake than yours) Saturdays were taken away from your usual midday shift and suddenly you’re facing a whole week of school and homework on Sunday. You wanted to convince whoever needed convincing weekends needed a third day. You need to spend one more day off with your boyfriend, dammit.

Every Friday you were able to sleep over you made sure you had no homework left over, providing less mental load for when you just want to spend time with him. Thanksgiving had really left little time to make it happen as it usually did, especially falling asleep before 8pm, but the day off provided the time you needed. Who cares, let’s get to the sleep over.

After spending the day bent over your desk, you had packed an over night bag with minimal essentials and were reading an indie fantasy novel he had lent to you when he honked his horn to let you know he was there. He didn’t often honk, as most parents appreciated when boys came to the door, but at this point your mom had understood the deal. You got good grades, you were attending school, and Eddie had proven himself respectful. Seemed you had ‘earned’ the cliché of the bad influence boyfriend honking his horn while blasting his loud death metal music to announce his arrival.

You yell a goodbye and close the door, running out into the early winter air straight to his van. In classic Eddie fashion, he had turned down the loud music when he saw you in the review mirror but continued his headbanging. Considerate, but he’s still doing what he is gonna do. As soon as your door was shut, he put the van into drive and took off to the trailer park.

“What movie did you want to watch?” Eddie asks as he held out his hand to help you out his van. “Are in the mood for like a scary movie, funny, dumb?”

As you step onto the snow and there’s a crunch underneath your foot as you walk to the stairs leading up to the trailer. “I think I want something funny or dumb. Something to laugh at with you.” Eddie smiles at this, and you’re cute as shit.

Eddie goes inside and turns the light on, takes off his jacket and runs around like a headless chicken for a few minutes and you look at the VHS collection for something to watch with him. Eddie comes back from his room, holding a small tin container and a few small ‘gems’. You hold out your pick for him, and he grins maniacally. “I was hoping you would be picking a dumb movie tonight,” Eddie says, watching your ass as you started to set up the VCR.

“Oh, not in the mood for horror? That’s unlike you.” You answer, sitting yourself onto the couch in his arms. “So, what presents do ya have.” You ask, getting a look at what he had gathered from his room.

“I have a proposition for you.” Eddie starts, and you observe he is nervously gnawing on his lips.

“I’m intrigued.” You lean in, already barely paying any attention to the movie already, and the main character hasn’t even been introduced. “Go on.”

He shifts in his seat, hesitating in continuing with his proposal. “You don’t have to, and I would understand if you said no. Sweetheart, I want to get high with you. I do it on my own a bit, but I wanted to show you why I enjoy it, and experience that level of intimacy with you.”

It would’ve been a lie if you said you were expecting this. “I mean, getting high isn’t really my thing.”

Eddie laughs, not maliciously, just out of love. “I’m not expecting you to smoke it everyday. Being high this often comes with a lot of dead brain cells.” He jokes, sticking his tongue out of his mouth. “I do think people need to experience it at least once. It’s super freeing. We can sit here and look pretty and cuddle. I was waiting for a day where you could sleep over when you didn’t have to work tomorrow so you don’t have to see your parents until after you have time to shower.”

On the one hand, your heart stutters at the thought Eddie putting this much thought into smoking with you, giving you the full moment bask it in and recover the next day. On the other hand, the idea of smoking weed had barely crossed your mind, it was on the other realm of your life’s experience. A girl who is getting good grades and too shy to speak to her crush for three whole years is barely spending her weekends being blazed. On a theoretical third hand, there has been an impulsive thought where you had wondered what Eddie was like when he was blissed and why he didn’t seem to feel comfortable getting high around you. “I’m not against it.”

“What’s holding you back?” He asks pulling you against him tighter so you’re basically laying onto him.

“I-I was risen with the drugs bad campaign. Though now that I think about it if my parents go to a hook-up restaurant then they definitely smoked pot. Our elementary school had that assembly that yelled at us about how pot would kill us and there would be adults offering crack cocaine-”

Eddie snorts, interrupting you. “Yeah crack is a bit too expensive to be offering to any person on the street.”

“You’re not who I exactly pictured when they told me about the dangers of drugs, baby.” You answer, remembering the clear picture of a flasher with a trench coat opening to reveal several different labelled drugs. You sigh, and the idea of being in ignorant bliss is feels more tempting.

“Anything else holding you, sweetheart?” Eddie asks patiently, caressing your shoulder as he watches over you patiently.

You adjust yourself so you’re now laying on top of him chest to chest. “I’m scared I’ll get anxious and freak out.”

Eddie rubs your back, understanding this point of view. He did mushrooms about two years ago and it’s the kind of drug that you need to relax into, or you will have a terrible trip. Especially in Eddie’s case before he met his dealer Reefer Rick he would buy and not be 100% sure if what he was taking was safe. Pot is something you want to relax into but if you become hyper aware of your state it’s not detrimental, just shitty. “Yeah, that’s fair. The good news is you are with some one who” LOVES YOU “cares about you and will make sure you don’t smoke too much on your first time. Things get out of hand when you smoke with people who don’t care with you.”

“You wanna help me for my first time?” You ask, the innuendo too much to look over.

“If you got to teach me, why shouldn’t I repay the favour?” Eddie asks, understanding entirely what you meant. You lean in for a kiss, drinking in the feeling his lips never failed to give you. The kiss ends, you stare at him half lidded before nodding your head. Eddie smiles, a glint appearing into his eyes out of nowhere. “I need verbal confirmation, sweetheart. Are you sure?”

You roll your eyes, annoyed at his insistence on getting your consent on a regular basis but there are worse things to annoy you in the world. He just is making sure you don’t feel pressured into something you didn’t want to do. “Yes. Teach me how to smoke weed with you.”

“Cool.” Eddie sits up without warning, startling you as you roll backwards over your feet. When you give him, a warning look of ‘what was that’ he looks apologetic in forgetting you were on top of him in his excitement. “Sorry, sweetheart. I got excited. Holy shit. Ok. Gimme a sec.”

Eddie runs to a spot by the front door and climbs onto a chair and opens a roof vent. He hops off the chair and runs with it to his own room and presumably opens a vent there as well. Eddie jogs back with the chair in one hand and a lighter in the other and drops his chair off at its permanent location. You wondered if he used it for anything other than opening the vents.

He sits down, and he starts to move around his little tins. You watch him, fascinated by watching him work in a way you haven’t been able to see before. “What are you doing?”

You watch him and he pulls out a plastic baggy holding little green leafy clumps and a smell hits your nose you didn’t realize you had recognized. He opens the baggy and grabs one of the smaller clumps and moves on to a metallic round container with the same circumference as a golf ball. You watch his hands work, obviously idle and used to the habit by now. His fingers work to open the round container to show a series of seemingly sharp spikes spread equally around the surface area on both the lid and the bottom. He places the little ball into the circle and closes the container. You hear a grinding sound, like the sound of an Etch-A-Sketch and see Eddie using both hands to turn the container.

Honestly, you had no idea what he was doing or how you were about to smoke it, but it was cool. You watched the rest of the process, Eddie bringing out his rolling papers and filling it with a now smaller but similar substance to the stuff in the baggy and carefully rolling them up. It seemed like an art, almost. When the process was completed, Eddie proudly held up the joint and held it for you to see.

“Ta-da!” Eddie exclaims dramatically, his other hand’s fingers spread out. “I present to you our humble guide.” He puts down the joint and starts to add some to a new rolling paper.

“Are we smoking more than one?” You ask, adjusting yourself so you’re watching what he was doing more closely.

“You are taking two, maybe three inhales from this one. You don’t know it, but it’s decently sized. I, on the other hand, have an intense tolerance for this stuff so I need to smoke a little bit more.

“How much more?” You ask innocently, staring at the lone joint he put down on the table.

“Oh, maybe 5 or 6 more.” He answered casually, starting to roll up the second one. Your eyes widened at this thought, wondering if he was more chronic than you had anticipated. Eddie glances to see your pretty face while he rolls the joint and he laughs at your comically wide eyes. “I might indulge frequently but I never drive while high, made that mistake once and I haven’t seen my uncle more disappointed in me. Even when I said I failed grade 12 again. Trust me. There’s nothing more nerve wrecking than seeing that man’s face on the morning after I had confessed, I drove home while high.”

Eddie slaps his hands on his thighs, the international symbol for ‘alright let’s do this’. “Alright. Do you know how to light or use a cigarette?” He asks, turning his body to face you. You shook your head, bewildered. Has he met you? “Right, so when you inhale, you need to be taking the smoke right into your lungs. An easy trick I have learned to help newbies is to take it into your mouth first, then you sharply inhale to take it into your lungs.” You nodded, your student trained hands itching for a pen to write it down, so you don’t forget anything. “Hold it in for as long as you can. The longer, the better. If, if, if you choose to keep smoking on the occasion, you’ll find that your lung capacity will decrease and you won’t be able to hold that smoke in as long.”

You blinked rapidly, absorbing the buttload information Eddie has just provided you with. You didn’t realize there was so much to it.

“Don’t worry. You’ll stop overthinking about it when it starts to sink in. Warning, since you don’t know what it feels like exactly you might not realize you’re high and then it might hit you pretty hard. Which is why I’m here to provide you assurance.” Eddie warns and comforts you. “Are you still up for it?”

“Bring it on.” You’re not entirely convinced by this yourself, but the details and idea were intriguing to say the least.

Eddie gives you a wicked smile, his dimples pronounced and a crazy look in his eyes you could only assume was bizarre excitement. “Alright. Hold this up to your mouth, I’ll light it and tell you when to inhale.” You tentatively hold the joint for the first time, and it’s more fragile than you had expected. Your shaky hands hold it in a pincer grasp. Your eyes cross and focus on the lighter Eddie puts to the end of it, a white twisty part. The end is lit and spark flies as the end burns up fast. The joint burns up fast, and smoke starts to come out of it. “Now” Eddie gently says, and you start to attempt what he has described to you.

The smoke goes into your mouth, and you could taste what you had smelled when he opened the baggy. Step by step, you remove the joint from your mouth, sharply inhale the smoke into your lungs and a tang of discomfort tells you that you did it right. You thought you might be able to hold your breath for a good amount of time, but your lungs expel the smoke immediately, bringing out a coughing fit.

“That’s a good girl!” Eddie says, patting your back as he takes in his first inhale, dusting ash into an ashtray you hadn’t even noticed was in front of you. “Thirsty?” He asks, offering an ice-cold Coke.

You take the pop with gratitude, wondering how he knew exactly what you had needed. “Good? I coughed it all out.” You asked, curious to what you did was good when he had told you to keep it in your lungs as long as possible.

“Your lungs are clean. Usually if someone doesn’t cough their first inhale it means they did it wrong. Coughing is an excellent sign you did it just right. Need another hit?” Eddie offers the joint back, and it’s noticeably decreased in size, blackened on the end of it.

You nodded, not really feeling anything yet. You took a hit again, using the same steps, not coughing as bad this time. “Don’t you use a glass thing?” you ask, vaguely remembering seeing something in his room once or twice.

Eddie chuckled at your sweet ignorance, finishing the last of the joint you had handed to him. “A bong? Yeah that’s not meant for the first time smoking, sweetheart. Seriously, the last guy I saw try a bong for the first time he threw up almost immediately. It hits your throat a lot harder, even with ice.”

You weren’t sure how ice had anything to do with it, but you didn’t care. An urge to crawl into Eddie’s arms hit and you slowly started to crawl into him. “Wow okay you’re definitely high.” Eddie comments as you sprawl yourself onto his body.

“Huh?” You ask, lying on his chest and half paying attention to the movie. “I can’t even feel it.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, petting your hair. “Look at me.” You turn your head to face him, and he bites back laughter. “Yeah, I knew it. You’re smiling.”

“So? Can’t smile at my boyfriend?” You ask, unsure of what that had to do with anything.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, you can smile, and I love it when I see that beautiful smile, baby. But usually, the smile sitting on your face right now is reserved for the stoned. And you, my dear, are very stoned.”

As you watch the movie, your breathing even and Eddie’s heartbeat in your ear, you start to think about the smile sitting on your face. As it sits you wonder if you can de-smile, so to say. You try to wipe it off your face, but it proves impossible and does the opposite as you giggle from the ridiculousness.

“Definitely stoned.” Eddie says with a fondness in his voice.

“Baby.” You say, crawling up to him. “Can-can we kiss? I want kisses. Please?”

Eddie nods, taking in your half-mooned eyes and your sleepy disposition. “Of course, sweetheart.”

After the two of you make out for a little, Eddie’s knee finding it’s way in between your legs, for the first time you direct him away from going any further. “I-I just don’t think I’m in a good state for that. Keep it PG?”

Eddie agrees without any protest, understanding in full. When the kissing ceases, you lie on his chest for a healthy amount of time, you figure out why they call it being high. It feels like you’re elevated, floating, everything is hazy, and it might take you longer to cognitively function but things feel safe.

You laid on Eddie without talking until well into the credits, and it seemed like you were paying attention to every name it had mentioned. Eddie was tempted to put on one of his favourite marijuana-associated movies, but he was afraid it would just freak you out. He went to the exact opposite and put in the only Disney movie he and his uncle owned, Lady and the Tramp.

When Eddie got up to change the tapes you had protested loudly in him leaving but it was all good when you knew he was only right in front of you. He waddled back to the couch but were terribly irritated when he sat down rather than laying for you to crawl on him again. “You’ll be fine, I’m just smoking a few more puffs so I can lie down with you, ok?”

You nod, leaning back as the Disney credits started. When you saw the title, you smirked at Eddie with what you thought was a side eye mixed with a smirk. Really, you were just smiling wildly, rivalling Eddie’s own wild smile.

Towards the end of the movie, after the talking cartoon dogs started to mess you up a little but you didn’t communicate it on the grounds of not wanting to be made fun of, Eddie gently sets you up, and you get a good look at his face for the first time in a while. You understood what Eddie meant by stoners sport the smile, because he was wearing the same one. “Okay, princess. Bedtime for both of us.”

“I like sitting on the couch with you, though.” You whine, the idea of getting up to go to his bed too much and wanting to sleep there.

Eddie knew why, so he lifts you up onto his shoulders and down the hall to his room, turning off the appropriate lights and the tv on the way there. Your back hits his bed, and you yank onto him, causing him to yelp as his jeans were barely off his ass when he’s attempting to take them off for bed. “Hey, hey! He yells, nearly falling over. Lemme take my shit off then I’ll cuddle ya, you stoner.”

So you do, watching contently as he whizzes around his room getting shit ready for bed. He was tempted to ask if you wanted snacks, but he’ll let you discover the love of the munchies for another day. “How you feel, hmm?” He asks after turning the lights off and getting into bed with you.

“Nice. This is a nice feeling.” You comment, moving your hands across his chest, not sexually, just playing with the light patch of chest hair. “I can see why you and the football players enjoy it.”

“Those guys snort a lot of coke.” He sighs, not aware of what he was saying as he fell asleep.

“Huh.” You answer, and you were on your way to dreamland as well.

The night ends like this, the two of you wrapped up in your own little cocoon. Wayne comes to the house smelling like pot and his ashtray full of new filters on the coffee table with unopened chip bags by the tv. Seemed like you two had a good night, considering you made it to the bed.

The following Sunday Steve and Robin restlessly ask Eddie what you were like while you were high as he crashed Family Video. There seemed to be a collective idea of congratulations towards Eddie for managing to corrupt you more than they ever were. You side-eyed the three of them, pissed at the very idea of ‘being corrupted’; like you were a child.

It was the last week of November, and Mike was getting mad excited about El coming up to see Mike for Christmas. It was debated if Will would tag along to see the gang, but Will was insistent that he spend Christmas with his mom. At least that’s what Mike told everyone.

Dustin and Lucas were both calling Will on a semi-regular basis to inform him on DnD shenanigans and talk yet Mike has some weird hesitance over calling Will. (Despite Dustin nagging him to just fucking call him.) There was a common belief that Mike didn’t even ask Will to come down, but no one actually wanted to ask. Mike is a defensive asshole sometimes.

Regardless of whatever rumours were being spread, even about your own friends, his excitement was according to you, adorable. According to Eddie, it was adorable about the first few times now it’s just annoying.

The Friday when El arrived in the evening Nancy had spent all lunch dreading it, explaining she’ll need a barf bag from the mere mushiness El and Mike were about to present to her square in the face. You let her rant about it, yet secretly was excited for their reunion. (After all, you knew they had a connection.)

As much as you wanted to join them for a reunion, you had asked for them to tape it for you or at least take photos cause you had a hot date at Chef’s Table and you and Eddie wanted to do it right this time.

As you stood at your stuffed closet, you stared at the all the options, wondering about the general dress code for the night. Since your stunt during your first week (you had it down bad) together there has been a silent agreement of anything that you are anxious if you move will show something, you can wear it for him. (Which you have) If his fingers are going there anyway, might as well assist, no?

The phone rings, you allow your mom to pick it up. It’s Eddie. Is…is he not getting ready for your date, too?

“Baby?” You answer, attempting to decide between two aesthetically different dresses, one that is only held on your body by a string. You bought it on a whim with some extra money from work but it hasn’t seen the light of day, hidden in a box in your closet. “What’s up?”

“Yeah hi sweetheart I was just calling to make one thing clear. Wear the smallest dress. Whatever dress you are unsure if you should wear, wear it. You can wear my jacket on the way. Understand?” Eddie says, and you get the idea from his tone that he’s not giving you much of a choice in the matter. Not that you had any protest in his demands, in fact you were going to be well prepped for when the first move was made. “Princess?”

You squeezed your legs tightly to slightly appease the burning in your groin. “Yeah, I hear you, baby. See you soon?”

“Count on it.” The line goes dead.

Well, it’s decided. Tiny little dress held together by sheer stubbornness wins by Eddie demanding it into existence.

Eddie’s phone call was forty five minutes before he was due to pick you up. It gave you forty minutes to get ready. Your makeup went a more natural glam and but your hair a fluffy 80s dream. You wore some thigh high tights to give the illusion of some abstinence to your mother. Your dress sat right where your tights ended, some how perfectly feeding into it.

You were applying the last of your lip gloss on your vanity when the sound of a knuckle knocking thrice against your window startled you. When you open it, there he is, except not in his usual date-night wear. Usually he’s dressed to impress your mom, and while the effort of it turned you on, it was when he wore the leather jackets that got you all riled up. White knights in white shirts are great, fine even, but when he’s coming from a performance in leather you have to do your best not to drag him into the back and blow his brains out.

Tonight, the leather jacket was on over a band tshirt it looks as if he just threw something on. Why did this drench your panties more than his ironed white shirts carefully tucked in unripped jeans ever have? When you lift the window at his request, he lifts one leg in, showing purposely dishevelled jeans and the chain on his left hip. “Hi, baby.” You greet him.

“Hi. Come on, taking you out.” He says simply, his voice calm and deep as he offers you to grab his hand.

You hesitate, your hand lifted slightly as if you wondered what your mom would have to say after her constant insisting that Eddie take the front door if she didn’t see you off for your date.

“You think she’s gonna let you out the door? C’mon. We’ll take the heat for it later. This is our night.” He says, gripping onto your hand tighter than he might’ve intended as he lead you onto your roof. As you’re both halfway running to his van, you giggling the whole time you can see a light turn on and Eddie’s out of the driveway by the time she opens the door.

You’re in for it when you got home.

He’s chuckling with you, his hand effortlessly linking into your own as he recklessly drives to the restaurant. His windows are down, single handily running the hard work you had both put into your hair. Not a single care evaded your body as you relaxed next to him, used to his loud music and his even louder singing. How he managed to head-bang, avoid the police speed-wise, and still stroke your hand with his ringed fingers all at same time eluded you but you had learned to embrace and relax in his craziness.

You smiled at him, the word on your mind. Too scared to say it, wouldn’t everything change? Too scared for it to stay the same.

He pulled into the parking lot, somehow managing to take four spots at once, like some sort of exaggerated asshole. He usually doesn’t park that bad, but it seemed instead dressing to impress, he was dressing himself down to excite.

Excite you, that is.

On some primal level Eddie could tell that the white shirts and coming to front door has overstayed its welcome. Now that you knew him, far better than you ever could by watching him, by talking, laughing, fucking him, a white button-up just isn’t him. Last time he wore it you snapped it off the buttons, ripping the shirt open from the middle.

Even if he wanted to wear the button down he couldn’t, the buttons were still scattered all over his bedroom floor.

He knew you were begging for the side of him you found hot when you were watching him all those years, a scratching, anxious version of you begging to see the rebellious side of him. Not just when he fucks you, when he’s luring you into last minute quickies that just nearly get you into trouble. Even though he’s there underneath the manicured parent-friendly version of him, you want to visually see him. Right there, on your dates. Where he doesn’t have to talk quietly or over politely. You wanted him to be himself. The man you fell in love with.

You knew him. What he liked, what got him all in a twist, what got him really going if you had really wanted to, how badly his parents had messed him up… (Three months can teach you so much, but bitch you knew him.) Point is, you could see passed the put together façade he had put on, even for you and chose behind the person behind it. (You didn’t want the façade on date with you. You wanted him.)

Also he’s just smoking hot, and having him in his jacket with that ruffled hair, across from you on a hot date, it would make you go feral. Which is why when he yanks you out of his van you’re nearly buzzing in excitement. This date was turning out exactly the way you had hoped. A make up date, in every sense.

The two of you burst into the place, still hushed, reserved, and acting like it’s not the hook up spot in town. Now that you no longer had your blinders on, on your way to the table this time you had noticed the couples that were also sitting in here. Most of them were really close to one another talking softly or already kissing. If you had taken the moment to take a look at them it might’ve given you a clue as to what sort of place this was, which would’ve given you the courage you needed when you wanted to make out with him.

A different host lead you this time, handing you both menus and giving you a look on his way back to the front. He understood. You scooted your butt into the round booth, settling at about one cushion from the exit for the table. “Get that cute ass over here.” Eddie tells you, in the middle of the table. He has you scoot down until you’re right up next to him, barely enough room to do anything but talk or let wandering hands go where they might.

A side of you is nervous, shaky at the prospect of being touched like so in public. Every time he tries, attempting to get more frisky, you shyly shake your head no, no matter how exciting it sounds. “You alright, princess?” Eddie asks, soothing your knee with his thumb, sensing your anxiety.

“I’m ok. Should we look at the menu?” You ask, willing to distract your self from the nervousness and the increasingly damp spot on your lacy panties.

“Pretty sure you’re the only thing on the menu, no?” Eddie asks, his hand landing harder on your thigh, massaging it, knowing what he’s doing as he watches your eyes roll back. “Are you up for something crazy?”

“Anything,” you gasp out subconsciously, not completely aware of what slips out until it does.

Eddie laughs, placing his arm around you to whisper in your ear. “Okay, so after someone asks our drink order I’m gonna slip under the table. When they come back, I want you to order our appetizer, let’s say we’ll get some break sticks and beef dip, fuck, I don’t know. Order something. While you do that I’m gonna be tasting that pretty little,” he slips his hand up your thigh to your centre “soaked pussy of yours. Try your best, yeah?”

He takes his hand out from where it was placed, right at your centre were it was exuding warmth as he hears footsteps of the waitress coming. You knew her voice as soon as she started speaking. “Hi, I’m Daisy, I’ll be your waitress. What can I get started to drink for you?”

Daisy was a frequent flyer in your mind when you couldn’t sleep at night. The girl was a sharp reminder of what you thought might take him away from you. The version of her that you remembered was a girl who reminded you of your own insecurities and managed to make a uniform look decent.

This girl was pretty, but not that pretty. There’s a pimple on her forehead that’s a clear whitehead, a piece of lettuce stuck in her teeth, and her slick pulled back hair had boat load of flyaways. Time is kind, and maybe you needed to see her again to know that Daisy wasn’t going to take him, with or without the flaws you had just noticed. He was yours. The look on her face told you that she recognized you off the bat.

“I’ll get a water.” You state, knowing you’ll probably need to remain hydrated.

“Same.” Eddie states, licking his lips in anticipation for when she leaves.

“Alright. I’ll be back to take your order then.” Daisy drones, and this time you realized she was talking to the both of you.

You barely had a moment to watch her walk back and Eddie has already slipped underneath the tablecloth. “Holy shit. So pretty.” He mutters, more himself than to you. He wanted you to fucking stutter while talking and water was an easy drink to grab, so he had to move fast. Your underwear was off in one swift movement, and he attacked your pussy like he was dying of thirst and your pussy was the first drop of water after a week in a desert.

Your eyes closed immediately upon welcoming the warmth and the pleasure that rushes through you. After only moments of basking in the feeling Eddie pinches you, warning he can hear footsteps, and this was the lowest trafficked table in the restaurant it was definitely Daisy. You sit up, opening your eyes quickly and attempting to get yourself out the haze.

“Here’s your water,” she says, not looking up taking her notebook out. “are you ready to order-” she starts, and stops when she realizes Eddie wasn’t anywhere to be seen. “I can come back when he’s back from the bathroom if you need me to.” She says, absentmindedly.

You’re attempted to accept the offer, but Eddie pinches your thigh and uses his tongue harder to encourage you to speak. “Uh-no it’s okay. We decided on some a-appetizers.” You let out a hard breath, and Eddie has started to go to town on you, as if racing you to the finish line.

“Ok go ahead.” Daisy says after she had to search for her pen.

“We’ll have the uh-” you pause, “sorry, stomach-ache. We’ll have the bread sticks and the spinach dip, please.” You manage out, hitting the seat hard when you’re starting to get to the edge.

“Are you guys having any main entrees tonight, or just appies?” She asks, bored and fiddling with her notebook.

Your breathing has gotten shallower and you’re wondering if she has caught on yet. “Uh, no. Just that for now.”

Eddie adds a finger, frustrated that you’re managing to speak so well when you had drenched the leather booth beneath your thighs. The finger nearly makes you yelp and as he crooks it into a hook against your g-spot he brings you right to the edge, impossibly fast yet on a mission.

“Alright then” Daisy grabs your menus, you flailingly push yours to her, barely helping her as you go over the edge with your top teeth biting on your bottom lip hard. Daisy gives you a side eye, walking away weirded out from the interaction.

You ride the last of your orgasm as she walks away starting to ride your hips shamelessly against his mouth as the last wave heats from your center and even makes a pit stop in your head. Eddie peaks his head from behind the table cloth, mouth wet, and a twinkle in his eye as he looks up at you. If you see this face and only this image of his face for the rest of your life you will die happy. “How was that sweetheart?”

“What was that, five minutes?” You ask, grinding your hips lightly as he rubs your labia lightly, teasing how sensitive you now were.

“More like three and a half but who’s counting.” Eddie jokes, sliding to sit back next to you. You notice he’s holding your panties in his hand, sticks in his leather jacket pocket. “You were so fucking wet, which helped a bit, I must admit.” Eddie comments, taking a sip from his water. As soon as the glass his the table his lips are on yours, maneuvering the two of you so you’re intertwined, one leg on his yet still sitting.

He wraps your lips up in a magnificent kiss, connecting his tongue onto yours as soon as he could, just needing the very taste in your mouth. You could taste yourself in his saliva, the very idea absurdly hot. You stay like that, willing to take in whatever you can, taste from him, your hand make it’s way up into his long hair and gripping at the scalp, managing a whine out of him. You can’t help but giggle at his response and he jerks back, his eyes assessing you for a moment, carefully. “What are you giggling at?”

Eddie leans into kiss you, further left than your lips. He leans down to your jaw line, kissing it down and down to your neck. You lean back as he starts to bite and suck on your skin, causing little whimpers out from your pretty lips. “So pretty, so needy.” Eddie comments as your eyes roll back at his love bites.

“Here is you- oh, sorry.” Daisy says, carrying both your appetizers. She sets them down carefully, and Eddie barely moves from where you’re both stationed, as if he was proud of being interrupted in the middle of marking your neck. “A-anything else I can grab the both of you?”

You look at her name tag to check it’s the same waitress who shamelessly flirted with Eddie right in front of you, because she can barely look you in the eye.

“Uh yeah, Daisy can you just leave us alone for about fifteen, twenty minutes then bring us a check? Nice hefty tip in it for ya.” Eddie says, looking at his nails as he says it. It’s rude but it gets his message across. Don’t bother us.

“Got it. Be back in twenty minutes with your bill.” She says, and walks off with out another word, blushing furiously. If she had worked at this restaurant long enough to know when to flirt, wouldn’t she be used to a request like this?

“Alright we have twenty minutes.” Eddie states, and you realized his belt was already unbuckled and his button undone. “C’mon get on.”

“You wanna?” You ask, nodding to his now free cock.

“That was the point, was it not?” He asks, and it’s almost unlike him the way he’s propositioning you. Usually, he’s soft and restrained in his methods. Even when he’s asking you for a quickie there’s a softer tone.

Right now, he basically point-blank said to just get on his dick. This side of him doesn’t usually come out until you’re already on it, using slut-shaming as a method to egg you and him on. However, the most surprising thing about it was this had worked on you. You were turned on by how rough he was. “I guess, I thought we were doing just hand stuff.”

“That’s ok for the lighter booths. This is not the one for hand stuff. It’s in a corner for a reason. C’mon. Hop on daddy’s dick.” He says, wrapping his arm around your waist to tug you closer to his hips.

It doesn’t take much convincing for you. You move your leg around his hip so you’re straddling him, and your dress is scrunched up to your stomach, revealing your ass to anyone who would pass you by. He lines his cock up to your entrance, rubbing and tapping lightly, teasing you. “We have fifteen minutes, put your fucking cock-” before you could even finish your sentence he pushes himself into you and your eyes roll into the back of your head as he fills you up.

He starts fucking you, foregoing any waiting period due to how wet you already were. After letting you enjoy his continuously improving hip thrusts and technique he stops, moving his hands to your hips. “Alright. Your turn. Ride me, baby.”

You start to move your hips, rolling them so his cock his a spot you need it to every time. You were perched tall and your mouth in a small oh shape, gasping out little moans as you worked your hips. Eddie reaches down to expose a tit, starting to massage and kiss at it. “Oh you little slut, couldn’t even wait until we got home, eh?”

“You didn’t- oh- you didn’t give me much choice.” You gasped out, staring at Eddie as he still wraps his tongue around your budded nipple. “I would do so much for you, daddy.”

“Oh, you have, baby. You have. Oh shit- yeah keep riding me like that, oh, shit. Gonna fill you up.” Eddie grunts, starting to help you as you ride him.

“Already?” You half joke, feeling as his thrusts become more erratic and harder.

“Oh I’ll fill you the amount of times fifteen minutes gives me, sweetheart. Whether that be once or six times, you’ll be dripping in me by the time we leave.” Eddie continues to thrust into you, and you’re basically literally hopping on it. He freezes all of the sudden, his face jerking in a small O shape as you feel him fill you up.

“More?” You ask after a moment as he catches his breath while he’s still in you.

“You want more?” Eddie asks, his hands on your hips, rubbing your stomach lightly with his thumbs. As he rubs your stomach, feeling it grumble in hunger. “Hungry, sweetheart?”

“A little.” You admit, thinking about the smell of the still fresh bread.

“Hmm. One more then we’ll sit down and eat?” Eddie asks, starting to fuck into you again.

It felt too good to pass up. You nod as he continues faster, licking your two pointer fingers rub at your clit to help yourself and him and you two enjoyed taking your time but it seemed the combined hunger and the combined lust you two felt just turned into this animalistic need for one another and for food.

Is this what cavemen felt?

By the end your nails were digging deep into his neck, he’s holding your ass hard enough to cause bruising. Your legs are sore from doing a lot of the work and you’re out of breath and usually you would take a time out from it, but you were just horny and hungry and wanted him.

You grabbed at his scalp, scratching your hand into grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling. Eddie’s eyes roll into the back of his head, most times you missed is when he knew your eyes were closed. It was basically that and the fact that he was unloading for the second time into you within ten minutes that had you be able to cum yourself, lurching yourself into his chest. An instinct that took over you for a moment startled Eddie, but he was ready to help how you needed. You just needed to be held. Specifically by this man, this man who you just experienced this moment with, this bonding just completely shook you.

The first thing he did to help was make sure if you cried long enough for Daisy to come with the check you were decent, (and so was he.) He only offered to hold you, offered bread when given the chance, which you graciously accepted, as you were still hungry. “You okay?”

“I’m okay.” You say softly, offering him some spinach dip. He slurped it off your fingers, in attempt to make you laugh, and it worked.

“Hey you laughed!” And you knew why you were crying.

“What you thought I was sad?” You ask as if you knew this whole time. “I’m really fucking happy, baby. I just didn’t know how to respond or process it, so my brain went to crying. ”

“No regret? Shame? We’re okay?” Eddie asks, just to be sure.

You nod, leaning in for a nice chaste kiss. You two are hushed conversation, teasing one another in a game of “oh I can take you on” for different board games Eddie knew about. You weren’t very competitive but with Eddie during games, especially when he cheats, is always a winner so you had to figure out how to stop him.

Daisy knocks twice on the booth, and Eddie yells out “We’re good!” You giggle, pushing him as he gives annoying kisses to your face. “Hi guys, here’s the bill.”

A pang of guilt as you see her face again is presented to you, in the after glow of cumming as hard as you did. The flyaways in her hair frame her face nicely, her pimple looks like she had picked at it so now it’s a scab, ouch, and the green in her teeth hasn’t been fixed. She looks like a fucking person. Not some whore who’s trying to take your boyfriend.

“Hey Daisy. I’m so sorry, you have something stuck in your teeth.” You tell her with the kindest voice you could muster so she knew you weren’t being catty. “I also wanted to say your lip gloss is amazing. Both times I’ve come they have stayed on your lips the whole time. Are you just like reapplying consistently or do you have gloss you need to tell me about?”

It all came out at once, but you did want to know. Reapplying gloss at work gets so taxing sometimes. “Uh thanks, I think it’s by MAC.” She pauses as Eddie looks at the check, lost in your conversation all the sudden. She pauses but he takes another minute to get his wallet out. “I got it when we had the mall. There is a MAC across down, like ten minute drive and way out of the way but it’s the exact store. All their glosses stay forever.”

“Baby, grab your jacket before you pay.” You request, getting him to listen to you before he does. You take out 100 from his pocket, (the food was 20 bucks maybe), and say “Keep the change, and thanks for giving us the time. We’ll make sure to get this booth next time.”

“Uh, sure. Have a great night, guys.” The only thing that would’ve made it weirder if she apologized for flirting with him last time. She didn’t, life isn’t always a movie.

As you follow Eddie out, yanking his leather jacket as he had promised and it’s nearly Christmas and you’re out side at 9’clock you were gonna need it. The leather jacket fitted nicely down to your hemline of your dress, showing exactly what you wanted to.

Your hands are once again interlocked, talking softly as he drove gently back to his trailer. It was an off week so you weren’t spending the night but your curfew was midnight so you might as well be. “You know, Steve made a joke about you me and him yesterday, and I was like ‘You can’t handle another threesome from us.’” You partially joke.

“Oh I dunno I heard some shit I gotta have to chance to see. Why was I the dude that sucked dick I wanted a turn. Plus, I wanted him to top me.” Sounds like he had thoroughly thought this through before.

“Oh baby.” You say giggling, feeling hazy and ready to sleep for hours. “I love you, but you could not take Steve Harrington. I can’t-” You stop, and wake right back up when you realize what you had just said. “Did I just say…” you drift off.

Eddie slows down as he hits the gravel in his trailer park, breathing heavily as he barely reaches 5 miles per hour right to his spot. “Yeah, you just said.” Eddie nods, wondering if he had heard you right.

“When I was talking about-”

“Steve Harrington railing me? Yeah, you did.” There’s a smile in his undertone, letting you know he was quite pleased. “Did you mean it?” He asks, and the word is suddenly choking him, refusing to stay in

“Yeah. I do.” You say, petting his hand gently as you veered into his beautiful brown eyes.

“Fuck, I love you too.” He mutters, under his breath and completely winded by it the word finally breaking free of his throat. “I love you. I love you.” You giggle as Eddie holds your forehead and aggressively smooch into your forehead. “Fuck I’ve wanted to say that for weeks. I love you.”

You smile, thinking how he was sounding like a love struck dope, something that you usually fell into. How much it would’ve been true if Eddie, with his emotional trauma, was saying it.

“I love you.” You wanted to say it on purpose instead the middle of a random already forgotten sentence. “I really love you. I love you.” It came out as you were connected by the foreheads and his response is a sharp inhale and he kissed you in full force.

That was the night you fucked three more times until you went home.

That Saturday morning you spent twenty minutes asking yourself if last night was real, if any of your life was real. Remembering the look his eyes as he cradled you, fucking you gently, rolling his hips ever so slowly. You’ve never felt so loved before, by anyone, let alone any man.

You found it hard not to giggle as you run downstairs to grab some breakfast. You were spreading butter on a bagel with a stupid smile on your face when your mom slides right next to you, arms crossed and facial expression unreadable. You nearly ask what’s wrong when the memory of you slipping through your window last night hits your face, Eddie saying ‘we’ll deal with it in the morning.’

Well, it’s morning.

“Hi.” You mutter, starting to munch on the bagel absentmindedly.

The sound of her sigh invades your ears, and you’re scared for your social life. “Hi. I think you can guess what I would like to talk about.”

“I have some guesses.” You joke, leaning up against your counter.

“I know you’re 18. Technically you’re an adult. Hell when I was 18 I was already in college doing much more scandalous things than sneaking out my bedroom window.” She admits, mostly to herself than to you. “Sometimes I think I’m pretty lucky to have a girl who started rebelling in her senior year and still manages to keep her grades up.” She sighs, looking around her, wondering how the hell she was going to get the message across. “Look, honey something has been going on in this town. Every time something goes on, every year, I have no idea where you are until hours after when I’m picking you up all bloodied and bruised up like you’d gone to war. I’ve never asked because you don’t seem too keen on telling me. Me knowing where you are has nothing to do with your boyfriend who plays guitar or being controlling. It has to do with Hawkins. I just need to know you are safe. If you two are so insistent on using the damn window then tell me good bye that you’re heading out. I don’t want to fight the wrong fight on this.”

It had never occurred to you that she had been curious about the number of times you needed a ride home sporting some new bruises, she never talked about it, never asked. You wonder if her and Karen ever talk about it.

“So I can keep using the window, I just have to tell you when I’m leaving?” You ask, making sure it was clear.

“Yes. You looked happy. Hate to burst your bubble. Anything on your mind?”

Your body felt like it was about to explode. “I told him I loved him. He said it back. It was a pretty nice date.”

“Must’ve been. Chef’s Table, I bet?” She asks, starting to clean up the kitchen post-breakfast.

“I never agreed nor denied.” You comment, shoving the last of your bagel in your mouth.

She lets it slide, knowing that you have even told her you had used the L word was a pretty big miracle in the land of raising Teenage Girls. “Any plans for the day?”

“El just got in from the airport, she’s staying at the Wheelers so I’m going to stop in and say hi to her.” There was a hint of excitement, having been months since you’ve last seen her. Fresh from a winning battle yet mysteriously lost her powers. From what Mike informs you her letters express having made several friends and enjoying California. You’re mostly jealous she’s not suffering an Indiana winter and in the Californian winter.

“Alright. Go on. Start telling me when you’re leaving the house. I don’t need to know where you are all the time. Just tell me where you are.” You finish off chewing the rest of your bagel, running up the stairs to grab your bags and keys to head out.

The moment you arrive at the Wheelers you can tell everyone had beaten you to it. It was only 9 in the morning how was everyone already there? You mention a hello to Karen on the way down the stairs, noting her flustered stature as she rushes to make snacks for 8 hungry teenagers. She didn’t seem too bothered, this was her in her prime.

“Someone slept in this morning!” Steve welcomes you as you walk down the stairs.

“How are you all here, it’s barely 9.” You comment, knowing all the boys sleep in on the weekends.

“I live here and you won’t leave.” Mike states, sitting on the couch with El on his lap. You tilt your head, noting his hypocrisy.

“We all slept over in the basement last night.” Max states, sitting separately on the couch, Lucas at her feet.

“Oh damn. I mean when Steve got us the table he didn’t really give us a choice to the date of the reservation.” You comment, leaning up against a table next to Robin, placing your head on her shoulder.

She bumps her shoulder and Nancy comes from across the room. “Ooh, how was your date anyhow?” She attempts to ask you in a hushed tone, but it doesn’t work. Steve announcing your entrance was enough to keep everyone’s attention on you still.

“Yeah I’m not saying shit while the younglings are here. You’ll have to hold.” You state, aware of your audience.

Steve comes over, dumb little smirk on his face. “So there is something to say? A good night in the best booth in the restaurant, eh?” He asks, elbowing you obnoxiously.

You roll your eyes, and Steve takes it as confirmation. Walking away, you yank onto El’s hand, causing her to help as you lift her surprisingly easily to give her a hug. “Hi, El.” You greet her, and it feels like old times when she holds onto you tightly like you to her.

“Hi.” She smiles, and you look at her hair, brushed somewhat and looking more like Joyce’s.

“Good flight?” You ask as she crosses her arms self consciously. Mike reaches out behind her to soothe her, and sometimes you forget how well Mike knows her.

“Ears hurt.” She shrugs, and it’s the only thing she has to comment on. “You went on a date?”

“Yeah, with my boyfriend.” You confirm, and while you and El weren’t close like her and Max, it’s still weird to you that she knows next to nothing about Eddie. Probably because El was almost a gateway conversation into the upside down for you. You couldn’t not associate the two.

“Babe.” Interrupts the two of you, tugging her back. You shoot a warning glance, telling Mike she doesn’t get to hog her. Mike rolls his eyes. “You know Eddie, the guy I was telling you about? The one who leads Hellfire and is like, a total badass?” The look on El’s face tells you she recognizes the name, and the falsehood of Eddie’s reputation to even his freshmen might be the death of you. “Yeah, that’s her boyfriend.”

“Oh.” El comments, and with the doe-eyed facial expression she gives you it’s all she needs to tell you.

“He’s much sweeter than his reputation.” You mutter to her, and Mike tugs her back to his lap.

“I refuse to believe that.” Mike comments, and the conversation is over. “Is Eddie coming over?” Mike asks you, watching the tv just next to you.

“I didn’t realize it was a big get together, honestly.” You admit, wondering if it would be odd for him to join.

“Well call him up and bring him over! We need some of that competitive spirit for our games, woman!” Dustin yells from across the room, haphazardly throwing you the phone.

“Are we playing games for the day? When did anybody communicate this to me?” You ask, dialling Ed’s number.

“If you were here last night, you would know.” Steve comments, a tone saying he had you.

“I didn’t set the date for my reservation, Steve. You picked the closest available date and just plopped it into our hands. Literally.” It was a folded piece of paper he tossed at you at work one night after you asked for the date.

“Just get him over here.”

Turns out, El loves Eddie. He’s loud, obnoxious, and charismatic. El hasn’t had much experience with someone so loud yet so welcoming to her. He gave her a seat at the table when he had offered to host DnD only if everyone played. (To your surprise and to Eddie’s everyone did.)

Sometime during the night when one of the newer players are being explained a concept thoroughly by Dustin, Eddie looks to you, same dopey look he wore last night. You sat right next to him, looking around the corner of his books. “Love you.” He mutters, proud of being able to say it to you and you saying it back to him.

“Love you.” You mutter back, leaning in for a sappy kiss.

“Love?” Nancy asks, leaning in and making sure she heard right.

“Last night.” You whisper, winking at her widened eyes.

The game finishes off with Eddie’s final boss being ripped to shreds by some of the newcomers, and you can tell it’s on purpose. He had once confessed Eddie gives easier creatures to newer players, it gives them incentives to continue to play. DnD is a hard game to get into, it’s easier when you have the confidence.

Max is sitting in the corner when all is done, some by the N64, others sitting in a circle talking on the floor. She has her Walkman on her hip as she normally does, and you can hear the vague notes to the music she was playing. You raise your eyebrow to her, the international symbol for “Are you good?”

She nods, hugging her legs. Max comes to sit down next to her, unsure how to help, yet comforting all the while.

“Hey baby.” Eddie mutters when all the DnD is tidied up.

“Hi. I think they’re all planning to stay over for a while.” You comment, and it doesn’t look like anyone was planning on leaving anytime soon.

“That’s alright. An extra night with this crowd is always a plus.” He answers, enwrapping you in his arms.

“Hey El. Any reason why Johnathan and Will stayed?” You ask, knowing Nancy probably missed her boyfriend.

El looked over, munching on the chips in Mike’s bowl. “Wanted to spend Christmas with Joyce.” She said, looking to Mike for reassurance, for which he obliges.

There was a follow up question you had wanted to ask, but Eddie would have questions. Was it weird being in town? Why would it be weird?

Since El received more time off for her Christmas vacation, she’d be in town for two weeks. The only downside to that is she starts school earlier in the summer than you do. You still had to go to school for Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday until your Christmas break started. While Mike was at school, she would spend the days with Karen or just generally in town. It didn’t seem like it was planned well, but any questions were met with defensiveness.

“She’s cool.” Eddie comments, you still wrapped in his arms. “Why she with him?”

“He’s good to her when others weren’t. I’ll just say that.” You comment, and Eddie veers at you questioningly. “It’s not my story to tell.”

The rest of the day was a movie marathon, the whole crown collectively booing Steve’s choices, Robin proudly leading the banter. To rub in the salt, you offer the same movie Steve offered and the entire group agrees to it, saying it was a satisfying movie with a great ending. Steve grows flustered, going in the corner with his hands on his hips. As you place the tape into the VCR, Eddie goes to where Steve is sulking, partially joking but mostly sincerely comforting him.

“It’s okay, not everyone understands your clearly superior tastes.” Eddie comforts him, sitting Steve so he’s joined the rest of the crowd.

You expected Eddie to sit down next to you again but he sits down beside Steve, petting his hair comfortingly. “I swear if you hadn’t snatched him up, Steve might have.” Robin says, coming to sit next to you.

“Well that” you say, pointing to them now leaning on one another, “is your fault for the night. You say you hate when Eddie and him gain up on you at work then you basically guide them into one another’s arms. Are you trying, Buckley?”

“Are you?” Robin asks, and you have no rebuttal.

Christmas rolled around, and you spent more time with your boyfriend and your collective family than you would’ve liked to admit. He was a good sport as your mom asked him to do favours consistently through the nights spent in your home living room. Eddie and Wayne came over for the 23rd and 24th, you doing a gift exchange at the Wheelers on the 25th and spending that night over at the Munsons, a courtesy your mom had given you despite your dad’s protests.

Your gift to Eddie was special made dice with the same pattern as his most priced possession; his guitar. You weren’t even sure the advertisement had gotten your request for special made dice at one of the nerd shops you visited the town over, until you gotten a phone call. The look on his face when the dice were opened was priceless, whispering “no fucking way” as he examines the dice more closely. You had also gifted some high quality paints for his figurines and a new set up for him to be able to place his papers and maps in front of him.

I could tell you what Ed had gifted you, but that would take the fun out of it now wouldn’t it. Take the perfect give and multiply it by five. That’s what he gave you.

You had a second gift for him, only available the night you spent over at his house. As you undressed yourself, unwrapping yourself to reveal the red lacey lingerie bra and the crotchless panties upholstered to some red sheer stockings, he only took a moment to appreciate his view before ravishing you until it was no longer Christmas.

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rogue-durin-16 · 2 years

Text

BUT YEARS PASS AND I LOVE YOU THE SAME (part I/II)

Summary: Back in 1986, Y/n broke Eddie's trust and heart. He's on top of the world now, his dreams are coming true, and yet he can't help but wish things had been slightly different. A letter serves him as an excuse to aim for a second chance.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Genre: mostly angst

Tags:

Requested by: @attinaadellaalana @eddiemunsonsluvrrr

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, alcohol, let me know if i miss anything

A/N: indulging y'all AND myself so I can write Rockstar!Eddie bc that's what he deserves. Part 2 to the awfully angsty fic I wrote because my best friend made me fix it. Lots of pov jumps but it's necessary bc you need to see BOTH SIDES. Next part will be *spicy* so beware. Okay that's all, enjoy <3

Prequel: Liar. Traitor. Backstabber.

Sequel: but years pass and I love you the same (II/II)

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

October 10, 1990, NYC

Knockknockknockknockknock!

Ding-dong!

"Oh, Jesus Christ—" a gutural, tortured groan escaped my lungs at the piercing sound of someone knocking on the hotel suite's door, both my hands instinctively pressing the pillow to my ears in an attempt to muffle the piercing noise. "Gareth, get the fucking door!"

"You get the fucking door!" The drummer snapped back from somewhere on the bathroom floor.

Ding-dong! Ding-dong!

"I'm coming! Hold up! Goddamnit..." After untangling myself from both ridiculously expensive bedsheets and the limbs of some random groupie that ended up joining us after our last show, I made my way to the entrance.

The corridor's light was too bright for my hungover state, I thought after opening the door, shielding my eyes with my forearm.

"Mr. Munson—"

"Shit no, nonono." I waved a hand at our manager's assistant at the sight of an envelope. "No fan mail the morning after the concert, man. Can't think straight, let alone read."

"It's not fan mail, it's— it's from Hawkins, Indiana." It took my lethargic brain a moment too long to process the words. "Marla said you'd like to—"

Sobered up in a matter of seconds, I snatched the letter away from the assistant's unsure hands. My feet carried my tuned out self back into the suite while I ripped it open, my palm searching in the dark behind me to switch on the lights —to everyone's dismay— so I could read it.

I felt my heart sinking with discontent once my eyes skimmed the text.

'Dear Edward Munson,

Congratulations on your first World Tour. I write to you in hopes that you and your band may be able to revisit your hometown and play at Hawkins High School's football field on the 27th of October. All the money will be donated to blah blah blah...'

It was hilarious. Hawkins's mayor asking us to come back and help that damn town. A part of me wanted to go for shits and giggles. Definitely not because I missed the girl that ruined me.

Yeah, shits and giggles. That's what pushed me to postpone the last two concerts of the tour.

October 20, 1990, Hawkins

READER'S P. O. V.

"Soooo did you hear?"

I sighed, not bothering to peel off my furrowed gaze from the filing cabinet full of students' records I had just finished reorganizing to stare at the hyperenergized Robin that had just burst into my office.

'Did you hear?'; if only I had a penny for every time I had, in fact, heard that week...

"I don't know, Robin. Probably just like ten fucking times today." I retorted with venomous sarcasm as I spun around to grab my bag from my chair.

"Way to talk to the woman who's kindly driving you home." She quipped, toying with her car keys while we exited the room.

"Sorry, okay? I just..." I pursed my lips, taking a moment while I locked the office to think. "I'm glad he's back. I'm glad you guys get to see him. I just don't wanna hear anything about it." I adjusted the strap of my back on my shoulder, following Robin's lead to the parking lot. "It's bad enough having to partake in the welcoming committee bullshit."

"What exactly happened between you two anyway?" She questioned, electric blue eyes squinted at me. "Like, was it thaaat bad? It's been four years and you're still pressed."

"Told you it was a bad break up— Listen," I halted my steps to turn to Robin with pleading eyes. "can we not talk about it?" After a moment of hesitation, she gave me a quick nod. "With any luck, I'll just meet him before the concert and then we'll part ways again."

With any luck. Ha. As if a part of me didn't ache to see him again, to talk to him, to touch him, to feel him; as if my heart hadn't momentarily stopped beating when Hawkins High staff was informed that they would have to be preparing the football field for a Corroded Coffin fundraising show.

October 26, 1990, Hawkins

EDDIE'S P. O. V.

"Okay— Y'know what? Just fucking drop me here." I scowled, flinging the van's door open before our chauffeur got the chance to pump the breaks.

"Eddie, c'mon! Really?" Jeff called in disbelief, though he didn't bother on trying to stop me when I jumped off the vehicle and shut its door.

The road to our hometown hadn't been the best time for the band; constant arguing and clapbacks were commonplace since our plane had landed in Indianapolis. The closer we were to Hawkins, the worse it got.

Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

I lit myself a cigarette while my feet carried me through the forest, shortening the route to Hawkins.

First thing I passed by was the cemetery.

Before boarding the plane, I made a mental note of the people I wanted to visit after the show —given that we would stay three days—, but I was already there. I found myself walking to Chrissy's grave even before I fully decided on it.

Seeing the sweet cheerleader's headstone was what it took for me to realize how much of a mistake coming back had been.

Fuck this town, they don't deserve you.

It almost sounded like Y/n. Almost, because it had been a bit too long since I heard her voice.

As soon as I had walked into the graveyard, I was out, absentmindedly resuming my walk to the trailer park —except, I didn't really go to the trailer park. No, I took the long way, which forced me to cross a thankfully not very crowded Hawkins High parking lot. Due to the time of the day, only the staff's cars remained parked, and even them were beginning to drive away.

I wasn't ready to see her —not yet—, but the universe had always had a funny way of twisting my wishes, so there she was, crossing the highschool doorway with a ginger I recognized as Robin's girl.

God, I hated her. I hated the way my heart raced at the mere sight of her. I hated how she made my breath hitch and my feet freeze because she looked as breathtaking as ever, even when her small smile was feigned and her shoulders were slightly slumped.

She was sad. Good.

And then she bid the redhead goodbye to join a slim man with a sunny disposition, and her fake smile grew into more of a content beam while the two walked to a shared car, laughing. He placed his hand on the small of her back and I felt the urge to look away.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I turned heel and left. A part of me expected her to... What? Wait for me? but why? I had been the one to cut contact for good, I had been the one to leave her —us— behind, and yet I had hoped for Y/n to welcome me with open arms. I had always been fucking stupid when it came to her.

Naturally, after leaving the parking lot, I came across Motel 6. The memories I had there didn't help the ache of my still broken heart.

Why did I have to miss her so much?

Tears prickled my eyes at the memory of our last night together, leaning in silence on that rusty railing while we prorogued our final goodbye.

The chilly Autumn Sun had set behind Hawkins' treetops by the time I arrived at the trailer park. It felt odd to be back.

It felt even odder when my uncle, who I anticipated to be working at the plant on a Friday evening, opened the our trailer's door and engulfed me in a hug.

The little 'Welcome home, Eddie' he whispered into the embrace was what pushed me over the edge; without warning, I was crying on his shoulder, cradling his flannel shirt like I was a lost twelve year old kid all over again.

October 27, 1990, Hawkins

READER'S P. O. V.

Friday had been torture. Saturday was a blur —at least until the principal walked the empty highschool halls with mayor Phillips, a brunette woman in her early forties, a couple of bodyguards, and the members of the band.

Although years hadn't changed them, they seemed different; stylish, successful, important. Eddie led the group, chitchatting with both their manager and the mayor, one of his hands gesticulating animatedly while the other remained on the guitar strap crossing his chest.

Fuck, he looked good. He looked so good.

"—And this is the kind personnel that will show you around." The principal's voice mentioning our names to the band brought me back to reality. "This is Marla Hammerstein, Corroded Coffin's manager."

There was a round of polite 'nice to meet you's while Marla shook everyone's hands that didn't quite reach my ears, and those big brown eyes were to blame —those deep dark irises, flooded with sadness and something more, that found my own like magnets.

Soon enough, the band members were being led to the football field, as if they hadn't spent their school years wandering those same halls.

"—Yup, right there," Vikkie animatedly bobbed her head at Marla, pointing at the bathroom we had set for the performers before making us all come to a stop in front of what was the drama club, unlatching the door to show our guests the inside. "and we improvised a little greenroom in here because—"

"Wait, here?" My breath got caught up in my throat when I felt Eddie's chest against my back, his ring clad hand coming to rest at the doorframe, right by my face. "Huh."

"Yup, why?"

I felt his ribs thrum with an amused laugh, as he subtly bent forward into me. "Nothing, I just think everything 'bout this is fucking hilarious. Right, Ms. Y/l/n?" I gulped at his bitter inquiry, muttering a quiet 'right' as a reply. "Alright, let's get this over with, shall we?" He breathed out near my ear, pushing himself back with the help of his supporting palm, triggering an involuntary whine out of me at the lost of touch.

Something told me Eddie was purposefully torturing me —that something being how he stayed glued to my back, constantly hovering over my form while spitting scathing remarks that could be easily masked as dry humor. It was as if he himself didn't know how to feel about having me around again.

A part of me was genuinely happy when the show began, because that meant I was allowed to leave.

Had things been slightly different, I would be standing in the front row, headbanging to Corroded Coffin's agressive music led by Eddie's beautiful voice, but that's just not how it was, so instead of screaming the lyrics in the crowd, I found myself driving home. Then, maybe, I would walk to a bar in hopes of drinking my pain away.

For better or for worse, I didn't give much thought to which would be the bar in particular.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

EDDIE'S P. O. V.

Saying I was sharp-tempered after the show would be an understatement. I myself could barely put up with my behavior, so hanging out with the band would have been selfish at the very least.

That's why, for the first time in forever, I didn't stick with them after a gig, choosing to fly on my own and search for a quiet place to have a drink.

And what could be quieter and more fitting for my visit than the least frequented bar in Hawkins —the same bar where we had started playing?

The Hideout wasn't what it used to be. It was surprisingly crowded, and had a refreshed, more expensive vibe to it; Guns N' Roses was playing in the background while people danced in the middle of the establishment. As I got closer to the bar counter, I saw a framed picture of us hanging on the wall with a little inscription below; 'where Corroded Coffin was born'.

"Pffft." I snorted, propping my forearms on the wooden surface. "That's cute. Hey Al!" I called for the bartender with a cheeky grin, enjoying his shock at the sight of me. "Would you be so kind to get me a good ol' beer?"

"Anything for you, Eddie."

"Put it on my tab, Al." My blood ran cold at Y/n's listless voice coming from my left.

After a very much needed minute to compose myself and not look like a fucking deer caught in headlights, I turned my head to the girl, who gave me a small, almost timid wave. I nodded in her direction as a response before returning my attention to the bartender, who was currently serving me the drink.

"How was the show?"

"You didn't stay?" I tried not to sound upset about it, but given Y/n's sorry eyes, I didn't do a very good job.

"Thought you wouldn't want me there." She was half lying, I could see it in the way she averted her eyes from me to stare at her glass, almost empty, sitting in front of her.

"It was okay, I think." I chose to respond to her question, rather than delve into her last sentence. "Very surreal, though. You know, playing in Hawkins, it's just- it's just awkward? I mean,"

Oh no. I felt something coming that hadn't happened to me in years; anxiety fueled word vomit.

"Half of them were chasing me with pitchforks and torches just a couple of years ago. You know Andy? Andy from basketball team? Andy the fucking asshole who tried to beat me up with a crowbar? He came after the show to tell me our songs rocked." I breathed out a nervous laugh, riping a half smile from Y/n, one that my eyes could barely catch due to her temple resting on her right knuckles.

"That's one bizarre experience." She commented, twirling her drink.

"Speaking of bizarre," I scooted to the left, telling myself it was to avoid nosey ears and not to be closer to her. "how's... work?"

Y/n clicked her tongue. "Can't tell you."

"So you're still active." The girl subtly nodded, finally dropping her right hand and allowing me to see her gaze, mildly illuminated by the neon lights in the establishment. "I see you kept your job at the counseling department."

"Ms Kelley was transferred, so I actually got promoted." She clarified, taking a sip of her drink.

"That's great." I stated, searching for a topic to hold onto. Counseling. Highschool. Highschoolers. Got it. "I saw, uhh, Max Mayfield yesterday. She's so grown, what the fuck."

Y/n snorted. "Have you seen Dustin and the others?"

"Not yet."

"They're like... Little men. Not so little." Y/n scrunched her nose, gaze fixed on the bottles displayed before us while she probably pictured the party. "They make me feel old."

I couldn't help but snicker at the dramatism of the statement. "They make you feel old, at the blooming age of 24—"

"25." She corrected me, finally meeting my eyes with a tight-lipped smile.

I stayed silent for a hot second, time hitting me like a heavy rock. "25. Forgot your birthday was last week."

"I wasn't expecting you to remember." Although she tried to mask it as a joke, I caught on the sincerity of her words. "Rockstar duties and all, must be hard to keep track of mundane things."

"Nothing 'bout you is mundane." I blurted out before my mind could stop my mouth. Catching her gaze was a losing game, I found out, so I moved a bit closer until our thighs were brushing and nudged her. "Except your taste in music."

"Ouch! That's a low blow." She complained, taking a hand to her chest before looking up at me once more. "You love Blondie thanks to me."

"I never said I loved Blondie."

"Yes you did!"

"Well I only said I loved Blondie 'cause I lov—"

Stop. The open smile that had so beautifully graced her face for a few seconds was substituted by the same scared expression that twisted mine.

I gulped, choosing to look away and take a long swig of my beer.

"Are you seeing someone?" I couldn't find it in me to meet her furrowed visage after asking the question. "I'm just asking 'cause yesterday I spotted you at the parking lot. Kinda wanted to go say hi but, uhm, you weren't alone."

"Meh." Y/n, whose upper body had leant over the counter in hopes to face me, retreated to her original position. "His name's Carl."

"Okay." Okay. I lost my chance. Great.

"He's from work."

"From which work?"

"The boring one." She joked, trying to defuse the renewed tension among us. "He's a stand-in science teacher in middle school."

"So he's just a boooring nerd." I let waved my fingers before our eyes, trying and failing to make my comment sound funny and not resentful.

"Not everyone can date a rockstar." She chuckled, and for some reason that fueled my rancour.

"You could've, but you had to fuck it up."

Silence. She stared at me for a long second with unreadable eyes that made me internally squirm.

"Okay. I'm just..." Gonna go. Instead of completing the sentence, she grabbed her wallet and slid a couple of bills to Al before standing up.

"Wait!" Spinning around fast enough to give myself whiplash, I took a hold of the hem of Y/n's jacket. "Wait. I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I just—" I huffed, letting go of her bomber to run my fingers through my locks. "It's a lot."

"What's a lot?"

"You. This. I don't know!" My voice turned high pitched, hands raised in surrender.

There was a silence between us, filled with the sound of intoxicated people laughing and some Iron Maiden song.

"You shouldn't have come back, Eddie. You seem lost here." There was pain in her voice and a sad gloss on her eyes. "I'm going home now."

My fingers immediately wrapped around her wrist, not quite enclosing it. "Let me drive you?" She pondered her options with pursed lips, averting her gaze when I took a step closer and leaned on. "Please."

Her palm came up to rest on my chest and by God I died. "I don't wanna ruin your night."

"Yeah, cause I was having a blast until now." I managed to joke, trying my best keep at bay the need to kiss her. "I'll just drop you off and leave."

"Alright." A sigh of defeat escaped her parted lips, eyes fixed on her fingers, toying with a loose thread belonging to my vest. "C'mon, rockstar." She whispered, dragging her digits down my chest to my upper abdomen to interlace them with my own, her eyes flickering at my face through her lashes before leading me out.

READER'S P. O. V.

The ride was quiet, yes, but not at all comfortable. I was constantly shifting on the passenger's seat, doing anything and everything to avoid looking at Eddie, who gripped the steering wheel in an attempt to ground himself.

"Here." I broke the stifling silence when we were about to drive past my house, just in time for Eddie to pull up right before it.

"So you're a true Hawkins citizen now." Eddie commented at the sight of my new home. "Suburban house and all."

"Gotta play and look the part."

"Right. Uhm—"

"Thanks for the ride." I cursed myself for cutting him off, but there was little I could do to stop my mouth from running loose out of anxiety.

"Yeah, no worries."

Just get out of the car, I ordered myself. Don't look at him, just get out.

But I looked at him. I looked at the way his body fell on the backrest, eyes fixed on the boring road and tongue trapped between his lips; one of his hands still held onto the steering wheel for dear life while the other's fingertips drummed on his thigh, shaky due to the anxious tapping of his foot.

The scene looked very reminiscing of that first night he had driven me to the motel, back in December of '86. We had stayed still in his beat up van for what felt like an eternity, waiting in an anticipating silence begging to be broken until I had invited him into the room.

That moment was all too familiar —too tempting. And he looked way too beautiful after way too much time apart from each other. Seeing him in TV shredding his guitar, shouting the lyrics of his songs, had nothing on sitting by his side again.

His cautious eyes hesitated for a split second before daring to meet mine. I knew then that Eddie wouldn't be driving off, not that night.

"Wanna..." I cleared my throat, pointing at the front door of my new house. "Wanna come in?"