20+ only blog//nsfw. interactions are very much appreciated♡ Masterlist 2🌹: https://www.tumblr.com/5lutforeddie/818330881964081152/masterlist-2?source=share
Eddie + ring imprints | Rockstar! Eddie putting your moans on his song | Eddie finds out about your powers |
Eddie makes you upset | You confess to Eddie | Eddie fucks you (you're Jason's girl)| You stalk Rockstar! Eddie, he fucks you |You offer to kill Eddie's bullies(you have powers)| Jealous Type pt.1 | Jealous Type pt. 2 | Just 2 Freaks | Together | Secret Love | Something Real|Blessing | Birthday Sex | You fight for Eddie | Father Eddie (1) | Father Eddie (2) | Crazy For You | My Girl |Eddie Headcanons<3 | Rockstars eat pussy |Lovedrunk Eddie<3 | Talking Eddie through it<3| Papa Don't Preach |
Eddie kills a spider for you 🫶 | Eddie falls asleep while writing lyrics | Eddie KNOWS what those stains are | Live To Tell | Missing Eddie | You snap at Eddie | Eddie reincarnates as a vampire(PT.1) | You love Eddie's torso | Eddie x Bratty wife reader | Giving Eddie his first kiss | Eddie x pregnant reader | Becoming Mrs. Munson | Pen Pals | Eddie reincarnates as a vampire pt.2
Eddie reincarnates as a vampire pt. 3 |
Not Ready | Eddie being dumb | Perv Husband Eddie | Eddie loves to touch you🌹 | Going into labor while Eddie's at work | Stay Awhile? | Using a shock collar on Eddie | Unhealed Wounds | Unthinkable | Eddie gets out of jail | Wicked Games | Munchies | Hot For Teacher
Hopper scares Eddie away | Miss Possessive
Record Scratch Series:
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 |
Toji Fushiguro:
Toji degrades you
Steve Harrington:
Independent Steve | Don't Smile pt.1 | Don't Smile pt.2 | Don't Smile pt. 3 | Don't Smile pt 4 | Don't Smile pt. 5 | Don't Smile pt. 6
Pick Up The Pace
Joel Miller:
Joel pisses you off
Leon Kennedy:
Business and Pleasure(Re9 Bodyguard AU)
My favorite Eddie works:
Giving Candygrams to Eddie 🍭 by @hellfirenacht | Divorced Eddie and reader 💔 by @keeryhours |Reassuring Eddie ❤️🩹 by @of-apollo | Ghostface Eddie 🔪 by @diamondbatz | Jealous Eddie 🥰 by @xreader1989 | Riding Eddie by @gem-writes | Eddie Grieves by @comfortwriting | Worried Eddie by @beasbrain | Byers Doesn't Know by @sandyfics | Eddie Finds Out Something from Mike by @runningmunson | Teenage Dirtbags by @vingtetunmars | 10 Things I Hate About You by @beasbrain |
My favorite Steve Harrington works:
Morning Sex with Steve 🩷 by @moondustbaby | Steve + crying during sex by @harringtonsugar
Others:
How the Stranger Things men moan:
💬 4 🔁 106 ❤️ 826 · — even if it’s handcuffed i’m leaving here with you · pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader x eddie munson
summary: s
⋆˚꩜｡summary: what was supposed to be a simple one night stand has become significantly more complicated, and eddie going back on the road isn’t making things easier — and neither is the way you kneel for him
˚꩜｡tags/tw: explicit content, minors do not interact, no y/n, she/her reader, (very) slight angst, mutual pining, tour life, oral sex (m!receiving), (oral) sex in a semi public room, light degradation?, teasing, dirty talk (???), praise bc eddie is our good boy<3, needy eddie, slight dom/sub dynamics, brat tamer reader?, power play dynamics, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight humiliation kink undertones ig, cockwarming-adjacent teasing, cum play (kinda), abrupt ending (soz)
⋆˚꩜｡word count: 4.7k+
⋆˚꩜｡a/n: i wasn't actually planning on writing a part two for hollow crusade, but here we are loll written for my lovely @whitakerstorm thehee <3 btw there’s nothing minor about eddie’s dick, the note is just as dramatic as he is<3 // edit: i was gonna post this on friday but seeing iron maiden live tonight turned my brain to mush, hope y’all enjoy :)
The Brass Lantern had been painfully slow tonight.
A group of three college kids occupied a table in the far back, while Mike – who’d finally made it home earlier that day and had firmly refused to jump straight back into work – sat at the counter.
Meanwhile, you pretended you hadn’t already wiped down the wooden surface three or four times in the last thirty minutes.
You also pretended you weren’t constantly glancing over your shoulder at the clock hanging above the shelves of liquor, tracking the time as though you had somewhere important to be.
Because you didn’t; you hadn’t made any plans for tonight.
And you definitely weren’t expecting a certain grey-haired man to walk through the door.
Mike’s annoying green eyes followed your every movement – how you paced back and forth, dried glass that had already been dried, wiped down the same spot on the counter for a fifth time. He felt like he was watching a plane crash in slow motion.
“You know,” he said eventually, “if you scrub it any harder, you’re gonna take the varnish off.”
“I’m cleaning,” you huffed out before eventually tossing the rag over your shoulder.
“You’re hovering, kid,” he muttered behind the rim of his glass.
You rolled your eyes and reached for a clean glass before you snatched the whiskey bottle from Mike’s grip – owner privileges, or whatever he called it.
“This ain’t your bar,” he murmured as he snatched the bottle back before placing it far enough you wouldn’t reach without moving. “I’ve been back for eight hours and you’re already pissing me off.”
“Go back to Florida then, old man.”
Mike took another sip of his whiskey before glancing towards the entrance.
You could see the gears turning in his head.
“Don’t start,” you muttered as you pointed your glass at him.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking loud enough,” you pursed your lips.
One of the inebriated college kids raised their hand a little too excitedly to catch your attention before they motioned at their emptying glasses and slurred an can we have another round, please?
You clicked your tongue loud enough for them to hear, followed by a curt nod before you reached for three clean glasses. This was good – at least you had something to do for the next two minutes instead of being interrogated by your boss.
A country-rock song you’d never hear before crackled softly through the speakers overhead as you poured the drinks and set them on the tray before scribbling the order onto their bill. Mike watched as you moved beneath the warm amber light, disappearing around the counter and behind him as you made your way towards the three patrons.
You returned a few moments later, balancing a collection of dirty glasses on the tray while a deep frown settled between your eyebrows.
“You’re gonna scare our only customers with that face,” he muttered against the rim of his glass before pushing himself off the stool. “Go smoke, and please come back with a smile or something.”
“I fucking hate it when men tell me to smile,” you muttered, already reaching for your tattered pack of cigarettes before all but storming out of the bar.
The thick, humid Nashville air hit you before you’d even pushed the door all the way open.
The night hung heavy and wet – a black, starless sky smothered beneath low clouds. Thick grey masses pressed close overhead, swollen and breathless, as though the sky itself was holding its breath while stubbornly withholding the rain. The air felt annoyingly warm and oily against your skin, clinging to you and turning the streetlight overhead into a hazy, muted halo.
A deep sigh escaped you as you leaned against the brick wall and slid down until you were sitting on the sidewalk. The cigarette found its way between your lips almost automatically while you watched the white headlights of passing cars grow and shrink in the distance.
In between the dry, chemical tang of cigarette drags, you brought your thumb to your mouth. Your teeth worried at the loose skin around the nail for no reason other than the fact that you’d never been particularly good at sitting still.
You’d caught yourself doing that more often lately.
What had supposed to be a simple one-night stand three weeks ago had turned into a constant buzz beneath your skin. Stolen glances towards a half-working clock. Lingering looks from behind the counter. A stomach that flipped every time a certain grey-haired man walked through the door. Finding excuses to stay after closing, and missing him on nights he didn’t show up.
And now he was going back on the road at the end of the week.
Jesus Christ, get a grip.
Another sigh escaped you as you closed your eyes and let your head fall back against the brick wall behind you.
The heavy thud of boots against the sidewalk pulled you from your thoughts – just in time to stop yourself from spiralling outside your workplace.
“Hey, you.”
His warm, roughened voice reached you a second before he did.
Eddie’s grey curls seemed to have doubled in volume, frizzing wildly in the humidity.
So did his smile when your eyes finally found him.
“Hey,” you murmured quietly before taking one last drag from your cigarette and throwing it somewhere on the street without caring too much about it.
He let his gaze linger on your face for a moment longer than necessary. The smile tugging at his lips faltered for a brief second before he carefully crouched down beside you.
You reached for the tattered pack resting between your legs and pulled out another cigarette. Bringing it to your lips, you lit it without much thought.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just tired,” you mumbled as your gaze drifted away from the street and back to him.
Eddie’s eyes lingered on your side profile for a moment longer before he braced a hand against the ground and lowered himself beside you, completely ignoring the protest of his joints as he reached for you pack.
“Bullshit,” he murmured as he lit his cigarette.
“We’ve known each other for three weeks,” you muttered, a humourless laugh escaping you. “How would you know if I’m bullshitting or not?”
That made Eddie still beside you, his tattooed hand pausing mid-air between drags. His eyebrows pulled into a furrow as he blinked slowly at you.
“Where is this coming from?” he murmured as he brought the cigarette back to his lips.
Instead of answering right away, you exhaled and dragged a hand through your hair. You licked your lips and brought the cigarette back to your mouth for another long drag. The ember glowed warmly between your fingers as you stared across the nearly empty street.
Beside you, Eddie waited, his eyebrows still furrowed. Which somehow only made everything worse.
“You leave on Friday,” you muttered eventually, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
Swallowing hard, you closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose with your free hand before letting out another weary sigh.
Neither of you said anything for a few seconds. A car door slammed somewhere down the block, the sound echoing through the humid air and bouncing off the surrounding buildings.
“And that’s what’s got you sitting on the sidewalk looking like somebody kicked your dog?”
A laugh escaped you before you could stop it. “Maybe,” you admitted as a small, bitter smile tugged at your lips.
“Maybe?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Don’t let it go to your head, Munson.”
You dragged a hand down your face as the words settled heavily between you.
“Y’know,” he started softly, flicking ash onto the pavement as his gaze drifted down the quiet street, “you could always tag along.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you muttered, scrunching your nose as you shook your head.
“I’m not,” he said, and turned back towards you.
“Yes, you are,” you sighed. You pinched the cigarette between your fingers and stared at the glowing ember for a moment. “You can’t just… say stuff like that like it’s the easiest thing in the world.”
You crushed the cigarette filter against the concrete with more force than necessary before flicking it into the street. Then, without another word, you rose to your feet.
Eddie’s eyes followed you immediately. He tilted his head back against the brick wall, curls dragging over the rough surface as he watched your expression. He immediately noticed the deep furrow between your eyebrows as you stared down at the ground, absentmindedly kicking at a discarded beer cap. After one last slow drag of his cigarette, he pushed himself to his feet.
He could practically hear the gears turning in your head.
“Don’t go there,” he murmured softly as he dropped his cigarette onto the sidewalk and crushed it beneath his boot.
“A little too late for that,” you replied wearily, your eyes still fixed on the ground.
Eddie stepped closer and rested his hands on your hips, pulling you gently towards him, and traced slow circles against the fabric of your shirt.
“This was supposed to be…” you trailed off and swallowed. “Easy and fun.”
A quiet breath escaped him as he continued the soothing motion of his thumbs.
Eddie couldn’t help noticing how you looked beneath the amber glow of the streetlights. Even now, when you refused to look at him, that stubborn furrow remained firmly planted between your eyebrows. Something warm stirred beneath his ribs when he felt his expression soften – a reaction that seemed to happen more and more often whenever he was around you.
“And now I feel like a fucking teenager throwing a tantrum.”
That earned a soft laugh from him, and his tattooed hands tightened around your hips ever so slightly.
“Trust me, sweetheart,” he murmured, tilting his head as he finally caught your eye. “I wasn’t exactly thrilled when I booked my flight, either.”
That finally made the furrow between your eyebrows soften.
“How long will you be gone?” you asked hesitantly.
“Two months,” he answered softly, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek.
“Jesus,” you glanced away for a second. “See? A fucking teenager throwing a tantrum.”
Eddie barked out a laugh at that – the kind that made him throw his head back and his stomach ache.
When the laughter finally died down, he looked at you again.
“The offer still stands,” he reminded you.
“I don’t have enough money to pay rent and book a flight,” you deadpanned.
He opened his mouth to reply, but you cut him off before he could get a word out.
“No.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“The answer is still no,” you murmured as a mischievous glimmer found its way to your eyes as you trailed your fingers over his chest and twisted his nipple.
“Ouch! What the hell?” Eddie yelped, loosening his grip on your cheek to smoothen the assault you’d just committed on him.
You shook your head, brushing imaginary lint from his shirt before leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek.
“That was for trying to act like my sugar daddy instead of my–” the words died in your throat as warmth crept into your cheeks. “Whatever. I’m heading back.”
“Mike can hold down the fort for another few minutes, babe,” he murmured, catching your wrist when you tried to reach for the door. “You were saying?”
“I wasn’t saying anything,” you replied, deliberately ignoring the new glimmer in his eyes.
“I’m pretty sure you were about to call me your boyfriend,” he teased, a grin tugging at his lips.
“You’re too old to be called a boyfriend.”
“Manfriend isn’t a thing, babe,” he laughed. “But sure. Manfriend, boyfriend – I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”
You shook your head as you tried – and failed miserably – to keep a smile from tugging at your lips.
“I want you to be less annoying,” you replied, though the way the corners of your mouth curled made it clear you didn’t mean a word of it, “and let me get back to work.”
Eddie’s gaze flickered towards the large window of The Brass Lantern, catching Mike scratching absently at his head before he looked back at you. He squinted and pursed his lips, pretending to consider your request for a moment.
“Can’t do that,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold. Being a rockstar, and all that.”
“Should I call TMZ?” you raised an eyebrow. “’Corroded Coffin frontman Eddie Munson harasses woman half his age’.”
“Nah,” a grin tugged at his lips. “’Eddie Munson harasses his girlfriend.”
Eddie’s grin widened as he watched you open your mouth, only to close it again, and your widened eyes blinking helplessly at him.
“You know what?” you said after a moment, not giving him a chance to reply. “Can’t wait for you to be gone. You’re too annoying.”
His eyebrows shot up at your words.
“Wow, okay,” he said, nodding sarcastically. “You’re gonna pay for that.”
Before you could react, he let go of your hips and immediately dug his fingers into your sides. Broken laughter escaped you as you tried to twist away from him, nearly doubling over when he chased the movement and found the spot beneath your ribs.
The wooden door creaked open behind you, but neither of you seemed to notice.
“I don’t pay you to flirt with my customers, kid,” Mike muttered, forcing his lips into a disapproving line.
Eddie’s head whipped over his shoulder at the sound of his voice, his hands immediately stilling against your sides.
“And you, asshole,” Mike continued, pointing at him, “are you buying me a welcome-home drink or not?”
The backstage pass hung heavier from your neck than it should have.
You turned the laminated card over between your fingers – fresh homemade manicure glistening under the passing street lights – for what had to be the tenth time before you finally stepped out of the cab.
CORRODED COFFIN – ALL ACCESS.
The words still looked ridiculous, no matter how many times you read them again.
Three weeks ago, you’d been serving whiskey to a tired man at the end of the bar. Now you were standing behind an arena in Nashville while stagehands wheeled road cases twice your size past you.
You followed a buff, bald guy – who was far nicer than he looked like – through the endless maze-like hallways until the two of you stopped in front of a white door. It would’ve been just another unassuming door if it wasn’t for the laminated piece of paper that read CORRODED COFFIN: PLEASE LET THESE MAN IN, along with a picture of each member. Because apparently, even at their grown age, they still lost their credentials frequently.
The bald crew member knocked twice before pushing the door open. Noise spilled into the hallway instantly – not music, or shouting, just light conversations. The kind that happened when people had known each other for decades. He stepped aside and motioned for you to go in.
Eddie looked up from where he sat, a cigarette in one hand and a can of beer in the other. His expression instantly softened the moment his eyes found you.
He passed his beer to Gareth and crushed the half-smoked cigarette before he pushed himself off the couch and stepped closer. His hands immediately found their favourite spot, pulling you closer by your hips to greet you with a soft kiss.
“There you are,” he murmured when he pulled away.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been anxiously waiting for me,” you replied sarcastically, although the look you gave him was far sweeter than you’d intended.
“Oh, he has,” Gareth murmured teasingly, tipping Eddie’s can back for a sip. “It was getting kinda annoying, if I can be honest.”
“Shut up,” Eddie muttered over his shoulder, though his voice didn’t sound nearly as annoyed as he’d hoped.
Gareth didn’t bother replying. Instead, he simply grinned into the beer can while Jeff – the little shit – immediately burst out laughing.
Eddie’s hands tightened ever so slightly around your hips, his smile softening as his eyes lingered on your face.
For a moment, the noise of the green room seemed to fade into the background.
Until Gareth ruined it again.
“Jesus Christ, look at him,” he groaned dramatically. “He looks like a fucking teenager in love.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, and pointed towards the door behind you. “Scram.”
The drummer barked out a laugh and pushed himself off the couch in search of another beer.
“C’mon, Jeff,” he said, sounding far too pleased with himself while he opened his new can. “Let’s give the lovebirds some time alone.”
Jeff merely shook his head, his grin still firmly in place as he murmured a low hi towards you and followed Gareth out of the green room, pulling the door shut behind him.
Eddie had spent more than twenty years in rooms exactly like this one.
Corroded Coffin had performed in the best of halls, the worst of halls, and everything in between. And, surprisingly, the backstage areas never differed all that much, no matter where. Obviously, some were bigger and fancier than others, and had much more luxurious trappings – but they all served the exact same purpose.
Despite being the vocalist of the band, Eddie had never really felt the need to have his very own dressing room like a lot of other iconic frontmen had.
The green rooms the three men shared were always alarmingly simple – unlike what some people might expect. They were always clean, everything always worked – light bulbs, all the faucets, urinals, showers – and there were always too many mirrors around that somehow never failed Eddie to feel like he was relaxing in a nightclub or a very cheap motel.
Despite the big crew running around, the numerous road cases being pushed up and down, and the uncontrollable chaos of tangled calm professionalism and last-minute intensity that repeated itself every single time they played, he always saw backstage as a place of meditation, reflection and, most importantly, self-scrutiny.
Because, even after all those years, he still got nervous about screwing up in front of thousands of people. Tonight, however, his nerves had very little to do with the show itself. And now you stood in front of him, backstage at Nissan Stadium, and every annoying voice in the back of his head suddenly fell quiet.
The green room – which, ironically, was painted a deep red – didn’t feel nearly as suffocating as it had two hours earlier when he’d arrived far sooner than necessary.
Eddie leaned down and captured your lips again, taking advantage of the fact that he no longer had an audience. The kiss was slow and familiar, comfortable. His thumb brushed absentmindedly against your hip as he pulled you a little closer, and a quiet breath escaped you when he finally pulled away.
“How long until you go up there?” you murmured against his lips.
“Fifteen minutes, give or take,” he replied, glancing towards the clock ticking above the door.
“That’s all I need.”
Eddie pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression going completely blank for a second as though you’d somehow managed to short-circuit his brain with four simple words.
“What?”
He blinked rapidly, the meaning finally catching up to him.
You only licked your lips, a mischievous glimmer settling in your eyes. Gently pulling his hands away from your hips, you sank onto your knees and looked up at him.
He wore a black three-quarter-sleeved shirt, tattoos peaking out, stretched across his chest and hugging his arms a little too well for your liking, paired with the same jeans he’d worn yesterday when he’d come by your place. The silver chains hanging from his belt loops and the faded red bandana tucked into his back pocket had become as much a part of Corroded Coffin’s image as the music itself. His grey hair, usually frizzy from humidity and lazy neglect, had been coaxed into perfect curls by someone on his team sometime earlier that evening.
Needless to say, he looked really fucking good as he stood tall above you.
His fingers immediately flew to your hands when you reached for his zipper, stilling your movements as he swallowed a dry lump.
“Wait–” he breathed out, chest already heaving up and down despite the fact you hadn’t done anything just yet. “Bath– Let’s go to the bathroom.”
“No,” you said firm and curtly, and slapped his hand away. “I want you facing the door while I blow you.”
“But–” he cut himself off when he felt you tug down his zipper. He licked his lips with a nervous swipe of his tongue and dragged a hand through his hair. “W-what if they walk in?”
“Not my problem,” you muttered. “You’re the one facing the door, not me.”
You curled your fingers around the elastic band of his boxers, and pulled it down just enough for the fabric to sit tightly under his balls. Slowly trailing your gaze from his pretty cock towards his, you were met with warm, rosy cheeks and helpless blinking eyes staring back.
A large glob of spit fell from your mouth while you kept your eyes glued on his. Eddie twitched when you curled your fingers around his girthy length, spreading the sticky spit up and down. Then, with torturously slow precision, you pulled your mouth open and flicked your tongue against his slit before you wrapped your lips around his aching tip, softly sucking.
Eddie’s hand immediately found the back of your head, heavy rings coiling around your hair as his nails dug into your scalp.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he groaned out, closing his eyes and throwing his head back as his grip on your hair tightened.
But then you mmediately pulled back in one abrupt movement, letting his hard cock slap against his shirt. A broken groan fell from his lips, followed by whimper-y no, no, no’s.
“Keep your eyes on me when I blow you,” you grumbled curtly.
Eddie let go of your hair and dragged his hand through his own, eyes still tightly shut as he bit his lips before he finally found your gaze again.
“S-sorry.”
He felt hot and heavy to the touch when you wrapped your fingers around his dick once again, flicking your wrist in an agonizingly slow pace.
“P-please,” he whimpered, blinking rapidly. “I-I’ll be good. Promise.”
“You do that again and I’ll leave you like this for the whole stadium to see,” you murmured firmly and tilted your head to the side. “Understood?”
A cold shiver ran down his spine as your words reached him. Then, he gave you a soft nod before he bobbed his head up and down in desperation, a soft understood falling from his lips.
His balls, so big and full, and pretty with the white fuzzy hairs coating them, drooped low for you. He begged and gazed down at you with molten brown eyes. Your eyelashes glistened under the warm amber glow of the lights overhead, sweeping your tongue against his slit.
Eddie’s free hand cradled your cheek, warm rings kissing your skin, while his other hand worried at your hair – tugging harshly at your strand, smoothing it down, and repeating the process all over again.
“Jesus,” he choked out, eyebrows furrowed and mouth hanging low.
You pushed down, all the way onto the girthy base until the tip of your nose dipped into the coarse, greying hairs. A broken moan escaped him when he felt your throat flutter around him, drops of spit mixed with pre-cum rolling down the corners of your mouth as you kept him deep in the back of your gummy walls. You spluttered and choked, relishing the way his heavy cock slid in and out of your mouth.
Releasing him, you spit onto his veiny length and slid your hand up and down while you tried to catch your breath. You trailed slick, open-mouthed kisses down his cock until you reached his fuzzy balls. Just like you’d told him to, Eddie kept his eyes glued on you – the way you moved your hand, the way you swirled your tongue against his silky skin, licking fat stripe after fat stripe.
“You taste so good, Eds,” you whispered against him, and trailed kisses where your hand can’t curl around until your lips engulfed his tip for a harsh suck. “I love taking you in my mouth, baby.”
Eddie panted heavily, stroking your face with his trembling hand as broken whimpers continued falling from his plush lips. A shiver ran down his spine when you snaked your free hand under his shirt, soft fingertips threading through the strip of hair that trailed down from his navel to the base of his twitching cock.
You claim him with every suck, every flick of your slick tongue, every shove of his dick all the way to the back of your constricting throat until he bottomed out. His fuzzy balls, heavy with the warm, sticky cum that made your head spin, staggered into your face, slapping against your chin.
“Baby, I-I’m–” he cuts himself off when he comes with a grovelling moan down your throat, bucking desperately into your mouth as he tries his best to keep his eyes on you instead of shutting them closed. “Fuckfuckfuck.”
Eddie’s nails dug in your scalp as he held you there, giving you no choice but to gag around him and take every last drop he had to offer.
When you pulled your mouth off of him, the grip he had on your hair tightened as he pulled you up for a kiss. A muffled groan slipped from him when you parted your lips, pushing his come into his mouth as you brushed your slick tongue against his. You still had a hand curled around his length, refusing to let go of him just yet.
Breaking the kiss, you pulled back just enough for your eyes to trail down his rosy cheeks and molten eyes. With your free hand, you pulled the hem of your skirt up just a bit. Giving his cock a soft tug and ignoring the broken, oversensitive whimpers that fell from him and angled your hips just right – just enough for his twitching cock to slide between your slick folds, coating him in your sticky wetness.
“You feel what you do to me?” you whispered against his lips before pulling him in for another kiss.
“Fuck,” he breathed out, eyebrows pulling into a deep furrow. “Are y– Fuck. Are you not wearing anything under your skirt?”
“Why would I?” You licked your lips, a mischievous glimmer settling in your gaze. “Easier for you to have your way with me after the show, hm?”
His breath hitched in his throat while his teeth worried at his lower lip, cock twitching and painting your clit with the last few drops of cum that spilled from his slit.
You kept your eyes on Eddie’s as you licked your lips and slowly leaned in for another kiss. His free hand found your waist, pulling you closer until you were pressed flush against his chest, while he desperately rolled his hips for more friction.
For a moment, he kissed you back without hesitation, his thumb tracing absentminded circles against your side as he tasted himself on your tongue, muffled groans spilling from his mouth and into yours.
But just as his ringed hand began to wander towards your ass, a series of hard knocks rattled the door and echoed through the otherwise quiet green room.
“You done fucking your girl, Munson?” Gareth asked from the other side. “We’re late!”
He groaned against your lips, unable to pull away just yet – not when you continued sliding your messy folds along his still hard dick. With one last kiss to his swollen lips, you softly pushed him away, pulled your skirt back down and swiped the corners of your mouth with your thumb.
And then you turned around, barely giving him time to compose himself, and grabbed the doorknob and pulled the door open. You shot Gareth and Jeff a sweet smile before brushing past them without a word.
Gareth’s eyes followed you – more composed than he’d expected – for a moment before drifting back to Eddie. The clank of his buckle cut the silence between the three of them while Gareth’s gaze trailed over his pink cheeks, swollen lips and the unmistakably dazed look that refused to leave his eyes.
“Dude,” he breathed out, unable to suppress a laugh. “She’s dangerous.”
Eddie ignored him and simply pulled his zipper up while he brushed past them and walked down the hall, looking for the stagehand that had his earpiece.
This is just ten, there are probably more i could add but these are the ten I thought of the most. Now im passing it along to @gem-writes @beasbrain @dreamwatch @natgeopens @5lutforeddie
description: following the demobat attack, eddie's in a coma three hours away fighting for his life. while the rest of the party tries their best to move forward, you find yourself stuck somewhere between hope and grief, balancing your own heartbreak while trying to keep dustin from completely falling apart.
pairing: eddie x you (fem!reader)
tags: post season 4, coma au, reader insert, eddie's gf! reader, hurt/comfort, heavy angst, emotional hurt/comfort, protective reader, season 5 vibe dustin, make sure you have tissues on standby, season 5 vibe steve, everyone in this group needs therapy, dustin smokes a cigarette and immediately regrets it, steve getting clocked, probably one of the most dramatic, emotions-focused fic i have ever written tbh
TW: grief themes, emotion heavy
WC: 6.1k
A/N: so i saw a tiktok edit to 'I Told You Things' by Gracie Abrams that immediately gave me inspo to write this fic. it's very reader and oc heavy, but i promise it's worth it. (definitely tear-jerking fs)
reblogs are always appreciated friends <33
I didn’t run away this time…right?
“Hey…” Nancy’s voice shifts you back into the present. She’s standing at the foot of your bed, soda bottle in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. You lift your jaw just enough to acknowledge her presence, eyes quickly scanning the scene.
“Your mom said you hadn’t been out much, so I wanted to bring your favorite. Chicken sandwich, extra pickles, no tomato, right? And a Coke, of course.”
You turn your head away, nodding once. “Yeah, that’s great. Thanks, Nance.”
She half-smiles, placing the contents onto your crowded nightstand and slowly approaching you, kneeling on the floor. “We all miss you, y’know? I know school starting tomorrow may be hard, but I think you should try to go.”
She means well; you can tell that much. Nancy would never try to make you do something out of her own selfish desires. And, to a point, she is right. You have a couple more months of school left; then you never have to step foot in Hawkins High ever again.
If only it were that simple, though.
Because now, not only do you have to attend school with the same assholes who make your life a living hell, you now have to do it alone. Sure, you have the party, but it’s not the same.
Nobody's going to walk down the hallways holding your hand, obnoxiously loud and completely unashamed of it. Nobody's going to lean against your locker and make stupid comments just to get a smile out of you. Nobody's going to slip notes into your textbooks or steal fries off your lunch tray while insisting he was "saving you from yourself."
Nobody's going to be there.
The realization still hits you at random. Like a punch. Like a car crash. Like waking up every morning and having to remember all over again.
Nancy watches your face carefully; she's always been good at reading people.
"You don't have to stay all day," she says softly. "Just... maybe try first period. See how it feels."
You let out a dry laugh. "See how it feels?"
Nancy's shoulders sink slightly. "I didn't mean—"
"I know what you meant." Your eyes stay fixed on the wall. "It's just funny."
The word funny comes out sounding anything but. "You know what's gonna happen tomorrow?"
Nancy doesn't answer.
"People are gonna stare."
Your throat tightens.
"They're gonna whisper."
You look down at your hands.
"And they're gonna talk about him."
The room falls silent, because you both know exactly who him is. Not Eddie the person. Not Eddie who spent three hours teaching Dustin how to play guitar. Not Eddie who drove halfway across Indiana because you casually mentioned wanting to see a meteor shower.
No.
They're going to talk about Eddie Munson. The freak. The murderer. The devil worshipper. The missing suspect. The monster. The version of him Hawkins created because the truth was too complicated.
Nancy looks away first. You hate that; you hate when people do that. When they can't even argue because they know you're right.
"He isn't dead." The words leave your mouth before you can stop them.
Nancy freezes. Because nobody talks about it, not really. The Party knows. Steve knows. Robin knows. Nancy knows. Your parents know because they had to. And that's it.
The secret sits between all of you like a loaded gun. Two states away. In a hospital room. Machines breathing and blinking and keeping time. Eddie Munson: twenty feet from life, twenty feet from death. And nobody knows which direction he's moving.
"He isn't dead," you repeat quietly.
Nancy's eyes soften. "I know."
"No, you don't." The words come out sharper than intended. You immediately see the hurt flash across her face.
But you're too tired to apologize. Too angry. Too exhausted. Too everything.
"Everyone keeps acting like he's gone."
"Nobody thinks that."
"You do."
Nancy shakes her head. "I don't."
"You do." Your voice cracks. The first crack all day, the first sign that maybe the anger isn't holding as well as you thought. "Because every time someone talks about him, they use the past tense."
Nancy goes silent.
"'He was funny.'" Your eyes burn.
"'He was brave.'" Your fingers curl into the blanket.
You stare at the ceiling while Nancy stares at the floor. And neither of you says anything for a long moment.
Finally, she speaks first, "Have you talked to Dustin?"
You immediately scoff. "No."
"Why not?"
"Because he doesn't want to talk."
Nancy gives you a look. "Dustin always wants to talk."
You shake your head. "Not anymore."
And that's the worst part, because Dustin Henderson used to talk constantly. Now every conversation feels like pulling teeth.
Every answer is one word. Every smile is fake. Every joke sounds rehearsed. The kid who used to light up every room he walked into now looks permanently pissed off at the world. You understand why, you really do. Because every morning you wake up angry too.
Angry at Vecna. Angry at Hawkins. Angry at the government. Angry at every stupid machine keeping Eddie alive while refusing to wake him up.
Some days you're even angry at him. For being brave. For being stupid. For staying behind. For making the choice he made. But it wouldn’t be Eddie without some stupid decisions, right?
A month into the school year, you'd developed a routine. Not because things had gotten easier, just because people could get used to almost anything, even misery.
You woke up. You got dressed. You ignored your reflection. You went to school. You came home. You stared at the ceiling until sleep finally dragged you under, then you did it all again.
The hallways of Hawkins High felt different now. People had moved on from the "earthquake", from the deaths. From the nightmares...at least on the surface.
But grief had settled into the cracks of everything. You saw it every time you looked at Dustin. At first, everyone had hovered around him. Mike. Lucas. Will. His mom. You.
The entire Party treating him like he might shatter if somebody breathed too hard. The problem was that Dustin Henderson hated being treated like glass. So eventually everyone stopped, everyone except you.
Not because you thought he was fragile, but because you knew exactly how much energy it took to pretend you weren't. You saw it in the way he walked through the halls now: head down, shoulders tense, jaw constantly clenched.
The bright-eyed kid who used to wave his arms around while talking now kept his hands shoved into his pockets. The kid who used to laugh loud enough to get yelled at by teachers now barely spoke in class. And whenever somebody mentioned Eddie, you saw it.
The split-second flinch to the immediate anger. The way he looked like he wanted to swing at somebody. So you stayed close.
Not hovering, just nearby, close enough to step in when necessary. Which, unfortunately, was becoming a full-time job.
"Dude, seriously, stop." You grabbed the back of Dustin's jacket as he attempted to launch himself across the cafeteria.
"LET GO OF ME."
"No."
"He's literally asking for it."
Across the room, Jason Carver's former teammates sat laughing at a table. One of them made a dramatic devil-horn gesture when he noticed Dustin looking. The others laughed. Dustin immediately tried to commit murder, again.
You hauled him backward. "Dustin."
"He called Eddie a freak."
"He always calls Eddie a freak."
"Exactly."
"Dustin."
"Let me hit him."
"No."
"One punch."
"No."
"Half a punch."
You sighed. "No such thing."
He groaned loudly as you dragged him toward the exit doors. "You're worse than Steve."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"It is today."
The second the cafeteria doors shut behind you, Dustin yanked his arm free. "Why do you keep stopping me?"
You stared at him. "Seriously?"
"Yeah." His face was red, eyes bright with anger. "Nobody does anything."
"Dustin—"
"They say whatever they want." His voice cracked. "They get to talk about him like he's some psychopath and everybody just lets them."
The fight immediately left your body, because there it was: the real reason. Not anger, pain.
You leaned back against the wall. "He thinks he knows who Eddie was. But we know the real him, and that's what matters"
Dustin looked away. "It doesn't matter."
"It does."
"No." His laugh sounded bitter. "It really doesn't."
The hallway fell quiet. Students passed by, lockers slammed, a teacher yelled somewhere in the distance. But neither of you moved.
Finally, Dustin muttered, "I should've been quicker."
Your heart dropped. "Dustin."
"I should've."
"You know that's not true."
"How?" His voice rose immediately. "How do you know?"
You pushed away from the wall. "Because if you had gone back, you'd be dead too."
"Maybe."
"No."
"DON'T."
Several students turned to look. Dustin lowered his voice immediately, but somehow it sounded even worse. "Don't tell me what would've happened."
You swallowed. Because this conversation? Is one that kept coming back, the one neither of you ever won.
"He was alone."
"Dustin."
"He was alone, and I was too injured to get there quicker."
Your throat tightened, because you'd thought the same thing. A thousand times. Ten thousand. Every night. Every morning. Every second in between. But you couldn't let him live there, not forever.
"You know what would've happened if you went back? If you tried to step in?"
Dustin crossed his arms. "What?"
"Eddie would've thrown you through a wall and made you leave."
His mouth twitched, just barely. The smallest crack in the anger.
"He would've. You know he would've"
Dustin rolled his eyes. "Probably."
"Definitely."
"He would've called me a little shit."
"Absolutely."
The corner of his mouth lifted, then immediately fell again. But it was something. You'd learned to count those moments.
The knock came a little after nine. You almost didn't hear it.
The cigarette balanced lazily between your fingers as you sat on the front porch steps, wrapped in one of Eddie’s old hoodies despite the lingering warmth of September. The neighborhood was quiet. Crickets sang somewhere in the distance, and a dog barked a few houses over.
For the first time all day, your head had finally gone quiet. Then came the knock. Not on the front door, but on the porch railing. You turned your head and immediately sat up.
"Dustin?"
His left eye was swelling. There was blood on his lip. More smeared across the collar of his shirt. One knuckle looked completely split open.
"Dustin, what the hell happened?"
He shrugged the world's most Dustin Henderson shrug. "Got into a fight."
You stared. "A fight."
"Yeah."
"Dustin."
"What?"
"Dustin."
His eyes rolled. "Oh my God, please stop saying my name like that."
You stood up. "What happened?"
"Some guy."
"What guy?"
"Some asshole."
"What asshole?"
"The usual kind."
You sighed. Of course. Of course it was that. You already knew before he even said it. The bruises. The expression. The way he was trying way too hard to act normal. Somebody had said something about Eddie. Again.
You moved aside and jerked your head toward the porch steps. "Sit."
"I'm fine."
"Dustin."
"Okay, Jesus."
He sat. You disappeared inside long enough to grab a first aid kit from the bathroom before returning. The second you sat down beside him, he groaned.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"You aren't my mom."
"Thank God for that."
He snorted.
You grabbed his chin before he could protest and turned his face toward the porch light. The split lip looked nasty. Nothing broken, probably. Hopefully.
"You should see the other guy."
"Did you win?"
A small grin appeared. "Barely."
"Proud of you."
"Thank you."
"You shouldn't have done it."
"I know."
You dabbed antiseptic against his lip, and he hissed. "Ow."
"Good."
"You're mean."
"So I've been told."
The conversation faded after that. You finished patching up his knuckles while he stared out into the darkness beyond your yard.
Eventually he spoke.
"I miss him." The words came so quietly you almost missed them.
"I know."
Dustin swallowed; you could see the tension building in his jaw. The way he was trying to keep himself together. The way he'd been trying for months.
"He would've loved this."
You glanced over. "What?"
"The fight." A watery laugh escaped him. "He would've thought it was hilarious."
You smiled despite yourself. "He would've bought you ice cream afterward."
"Exactly."
"And told everyone you won way harder than you actually did."
Dustin nodded. "Exactly."
"I hope he wakes up," he whispers.
You looked down at the bandage wrapped around his hand. "So do I."
"No." His voice cracked. "I really hope he wakes up."
And there it was, the thing neither of you ever said out loud. Because hoping meant acknowledging the possibility that he might not.
The possibility sat in the corner of every room. Every conversation. Every hospital update. Every phone call. Nobody wanted to look at it, but it was always there.
Dustin wiped aggressively at his eyes, angry at the tears before they even fell.
"I just..." His shoulders shook. "I just need him to wake up."
Your chest tightened. "Dustin."
"He deserves to." The tears came anyway.
"I know."
"He deserves to see Wayne again."
"I know."
"He deserves to play another show."
"I know."
"He deserves—" His voice broke completely; the rest of the sentence never came out.
You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer immediately. No hesitation, no questions. Because some hurts couldn't be fixed, only carried. And for a few minutes, Dustin cried.
Hard enough to let some of it out, enough to breathe again. Eventually he leaned back, red-eyed and embarrassed. You pretended not to notice, a kindness the both of you appreciated. Then his gaze landed on the cigarette still burning between your fingers.
"Oh."
"No."
"What?"
"No."
His eyes narrowed. "You know what I'm gonna ask."
"Absolutely not."
"Come on."
"No."
"One hit."
"Dustin."
"One."
"No."
"I'm basically an adult."
"You are fifteen."
"Close enough."
You laughed. "Not even remotely."
He groaned dramatically. "Please."
You stared at him, then at the bruises, then at the exhausted expression. Then back at him.
"This is a horrible idea."
"Probably."
"A terrible one."
"Definitely."
"You better not tell anybody."
His face lit up as you handed it over, immediately regretting every life decision that had led you here. Dustin took the cigarette, trying very hard to look cool. Trying even harder to look experienced. Then he inhaled.
A second later, he nearly died. The coughing started instantly, while you doubled over laughing.
"Oh, my God."
"SHUT UP."
He coughed harder. "THAT'S DISGUSTING."
"You're such an idiot."
"Why do people do that voluntarily?"
"Excellent question."
Dustin handed the cigarette back as if it had personally betrayed him. You were still laughing when the phone rang, freezing you both. You exchanged a look, then stood.
"Probably my mom."
"Probably."
The phone continued ringing. You stepped inside, crossed the living room, and picked up the receiver. "Hello?"
Static. Then, "Get to the Wheelers."
You blinked. "Steve?"
"Yep."
"Why?"
"Mandatory meeting."
"What happened?"
"Can't say."
"Steve."
"Can't say."
"Steve."
"Nope."
"What kind of mandatory meeting?"
Steve sighed. "The kind where everyone needs to be here."
“Fine.”
The second you walked into the Wheeler basement, you knew something was wrong. Not apocalypse wrong, not Upside Down wrong, just...wrong.
Everyone was there. Mike sat on the couch, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Will was beside him, staring holes into the carpet. Lucas and Max occupied the recliner, knees bouncing anxiously. Robin was pacing. Nancy stood with her arms folded. And Steve—
Steve looked like he was about to deliver the world's worst speech. The second Dustin entered behind you, the room went quiet. A sinking feeling settled into your stomach.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
Nobody answered, which was answer enough. Dustin immediately turned around. "Nope."
"Dustin—"
"Nope."
"Dude, just sit down."
"Nope."
Steve stepped forward. "Dustin."
"What?"
"Sit."
Dustin looked at the room, then at you, then back at the room. His face twisted immediately. "Oh, my God."
"Dustin—"
"You guys are serious?"
You rubbed a hand down your face. "Steve."
"We just want to talk."
The words sounded rehearsed, which meant they probably were.
Dustin barked out a laugh. "Oh, this is an intervention."
Robin immediately pointed at him. "Okay, don't call it that."
"It literally is."
"It isn't."
"It literally is."
"It isn't."
"It definitely is."
"Can everybody just sit down?" Nancy asked.
Against every instinct in his body, Dustin finally dropped onto the couch, and you sat beside him. Steve cleared his throat, then immediately looked uncomfortable.
"We're worried about you."
Dustin stared, blank-faced and silent as Steve continued. "You've been getting into fights."
No response.
"You're getting detention almost every week."
Nothing.
"You skipped three classes last Thursday."
Dustin finally spoke. "Four."
Steve blinked. "What?"
"It was four."
"Dustin."
"I'm just correcting you."
You could practically feel Mike's patience evaporating. "Dude, that's not the point."
Dustin turned toward him. "Then what's the point?"
Mike opened his mouth, hesitated, then realized the only way out was through. "The point is you're acting like an asshole."
The room immediately went still. You closed your eyes, because there it was, the exact wrong thing to say.
"Damn it, Mike."
"What?" Mike asked.
"Dude."
"What?"
Dustin laughed. "Oh, I'm acting like an asshole."
Mike groaned. "That's not what I meant."
"No, it is."
"Dustin."
"No, go ahead." He leaned back, crossing his arms. "Tell me how much I suck."
Nobody spoke, and the tension thickened. Lucas finally leaned forward. "Dustin, nobody thinks you suck."
"Then why am I here?"
"Because we're worried."
"About what?"
Lucas hesitated, and that hesitation said everything. Because nobody wanted to say it.
Nobody wanted to admit it. Nobody wanted to be the first person to acknowledge what everyone already knew.
You watched Dustin realize it in real time. Watched the anger drain away, and saw something else take its place. Something worse.
"You think I'm becoming him."
The room froze, and Mike immediately shook his head.
"No,” but it sounded weak.
"You think I'm becoming Eddie."
"Dustin—"
"No."
His voice rose. "You think I'm becoming some angry screw-up who gets into fights and skips class and ends up dead."
The word dead hit the room like a gunshot. Robin looked away. Nancy swallowed. Will stared at the floor. And Steve looked heartbroken. "Dustin."
But Dustin was already standing. "You know what's funny?"
Nobody answered.
"You all get to be worried." His voice shook. "You all get to sit here and talk about grief and healing and moving forward." The room fell silent. "But nobody asks me."
"I'm done."
"Dustin."
"No."
"Dustin."
"No."
And then he was gone, storming up the basement stairs. The door slammed hard enough to shake the room. You stood fast enough that your chair nearly tipped over.
"Seriously?"
Steve blinked. "What?"
"What?" The word came out sharp, months of anger suddenly finding somewhere to go. "What the hell was that?"
Steve's face immediately hardened. "We were trying to help."
"No."
You shook your head. "You were trying to fix him. And nice going, by the way. Real efficient work."
By the time you got upstairs and outside, Dustin was long gone. You knew exactly where he’d be hiding, but you knew better than to provoke him when he was feeling this way. So, you leaned against the Wheelers’ house and sparked another cigarette.
You remembered how Eddie would always read you like a book; the mere sight of you with a cigarette tucked behind your lips always earned a “What’s stressing you out, sweetheart?” The thought of him tucking your hair behind your ear while he asked caused a teary-eyed laugh to escape you.
“You okay?” Steve asked, popping around the side of the house.
You laughed, pulling another long drag before answering, “Peachy.”
Steve shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and leaned against the siding a few feet away. The cigarette glowed softly between your fingers. The sounds of the Wheeler basement drifted faintly through the house. You already knew everybody inside was talking about Dustin.
Trying to figure out what went wrong. Trying to figure out how to fix him, like he was a broken appliance.
"You know," Steve finally said, "the intervention wasn't just for him."
You looked over. "What?"
His jaw tightened. "It was for you too."
Immediately, your expression darkened. "Excuse me?"
Steve sighed. "I knew you'd react like that."
"No, seriously." You pointed at yourself with the cigarette. "Explain."
"You've been letting him get away with everything."
You actually laughed; a short, humorless sound. "Oh, we're doing this?"
"Yeah." Steve straightened. "We are."
You stared at him, waiting.
"He's getting into fights every week."
"He misses Eddie."
"Everybody misses Eddie."
"Right, because you and him were so close."
Steve stared you down for a second, then continued.
"And every time he gets himself into trouble, you're right there covering for him."
You scoffed. "Because somebody has to."
"No." Steve shook his head. "Somebody has to be the adult."
You looked away, taking another drag, trying very hard not to lose your temper; it wasn't working.
Steve continued anyway. "He smells like cigarettes now."
Your eyes narrowed. "What?"
"You heard me."
"Steve."
"He smells like cigarettes."
Your stomach dropped, because of course he'd noticed. Everyone probably had. Dustin had only taken a couple of drags that night, but still. You knew where this was heading.
"You think I encouraged him to smoke?"
Steve gave you a look, a look that answered the question all by itself.
You barked out a laugh. "Oh, my God."
"I'm serious."
"You think I'm corrupting Dustin?"
"I think you're both spiraling."
The cigarette trembled slightly between your fingers. You hated that he wasn't entirely wrong, and you hated it even more because he was saying it.
"That's rich."
Steve's eyebrows furrowed. "What does that mean?"
You looked at him. And suddenly all the anger you'd been carrying around for months rose to the surface; raw and ugly.
"You wanna know what's rich?" Your voice dropped, dangerously calm.
"Maybe if you weren't trying so hard to play hero for Nancy..."
Steve immediately froze.
"...Eddie would've never had to."
The silence that followed felt radioactive. Steve's face went blank, then hardened fast.
"Don't."
"Oh, don't?" You laughed. "No, let's."
"Don't do that."
"Let's." You took another long drag, tilting your head back to exhale.
"I think the real reason why you're so pissed that Dustin is acting this way is that he's pushing you away. Which is funny, isn't it?"
You laughed, shaking your head. "While you were busy chasing tail and pushing him away, he found someone who actually cared about him and his interests. Kinda selfish to ask him to just fall back into your arms now, isn't it?"
His jaw clenched. "Eddie didn't have to play hero either."
The words hit you like a slap, causing your eyes to widen. "What?"
"He didn't."
Steve stepped closer. "He made a choice."
"He saved your life."
"He made a choice."
"He saved everyone's life."
"He made a stupid choice. And for what? The towns still fucked."
Something inside you snapped. The cigarette hit the grass; you flicked it away so hard it disappeared into the darkness.
"What did you just say?"
Steve immediately realized he'd gone too far. But it was already out there, already hanging between you. Already impossible to take back.
"He shouldn't have stayed."
Your chest tightened.
"He shouldn't have been there."
"Steve."
"He shouldn't have gone back."
"Steve."
"He shouldn't have—"
"He did it because you couldn't!" The words exploded out of you. Steve physically recoiled. "He did it because somebody had to."
"That's bullshit."
"No." You stepped closer. "That's the truth."
His face darkened. "No."
"Eddie picked up the slack."
"Stop."
"Somebody had to save everyone."
"STOP."
The shout echoed through the quiet neighborhood, and you both froze, breathing hard. Months of grief. Months of guilt. Months of anger. All finally spilling out.
Steve ran a hand through his hair, looking absolutely exhausted.
"You wanna know what nobody says?"
Your stomach dropped because his tone had changed. This wasn't anger anymore; this was something worse, something bitter and ugly.
"Nobody says what happens if he wakes up."
You stared, not understanding. "What?"
Steve laughed, but there wasn't anything funny in it. "If he wakes up."
The words felt wrong, like hearing someone curse in church. If. If. You couldn't breathe.
Steve looked away toward the road, toward the darkness, towards anywhere but you. "You think everything just goes back to normal?"
Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. "Steve."
"No."
"Everybody keeps talking about him waking up like it's some miracle ending."
Your hands curled into fists. "Stop talking."
"But what then?"
"Steve."
"What then?"
His eyes found yours. "And before you say it, I know he's innocent." The words came fast now, years of frustration pouring out. "But Hawkins doesn't."
You shook your head. "Stop."
"Half the town thinks he murdered people."
"Steve."
"The cops still want him."
"Steve."
"And if he comes back—"
Your stomach twisted. "Shut up."
"—if he comes back—"
"Shut up."
"—he's still gonna be the freak."
The world narrowed. "Steve."
"He's still gonna be the murderer to them."
"Stop."
"And honestly?" The next words sealed his fate. "All it's gonna do is make everyone's lives harder."
You hit him, hard. The crack echoed across the Wheeler yard. Steve stumbled backward, completely shocked, one hand immediately flying to his jaw.
You'd never hit anybody before, not like that. Not with every ounce of anger in your body behind it. But this? This felt easy.
Steve stared at you, breathing hard, and you stared right back. Eyes burning, tears finally spilling over.
Months of grief. Months of fear. Months of watching the person you loved fight for his life hundreds of miles away. Months of pretending you were okay, gone.
"Fuck you, Steve." Your voice shook. "Fuck. You."
Steve didn't say anything. Maybe because he knew he'd crossed a line. Maybe because part of him agreed. Maybe because he saw the tears. You didn't care; you just turned and walked away.
And when Steve called your name, you didn't stop.
The ride to the hospital was a long, blurry mess. After Steve’s botched attempt at an intervention, you ran home and immediatley hopped in your car. The only person you wanted to see was five hours away, and nothing was stopping you from seeing him, even if that person couldn’t talk back.
By the time you arrived, it was well after midnight. The familiar fluorescent lights of the hospital made your stomach twist the same way they always did. You knew the route by heart now. Past the front desk. Down the long hallway. Left at the nurses' station. Third door on the right.
You hated that you knew it by heart.
The room was dark except for the glow of the monitors. The steady beeping filled the silence as you stepped inside and quietly closed the door behind you. Eddie looked exactly the same as he had the last time you were here. Same pale skin. Same curls spread against the pillow. Same stillness that made your chest ache every single time you looked at him.
"Hey, handsome." Your voice sounded rough.
You dropped your bag onto the chair and moved toward him automatically, settling into your usual routine. The nurses knew you by now. They never stopped you when you came in. Half the time they left extra blankets in the room because they knew you'd end up staying all night.
You sat down beside him and reached for the brush on the nightstand. Carefully, gently, you began working through his curls.
"You're getting ridiculous, you know that?" you murmured. "I swear your hair is longer than mine now."
The corners of your mouth twitched. "You'd probably love that."
Once his curls were untangled, you reached for the small cassette player you'd practically worn out over the past few months. The tape clicked softly as it started playing. His mixtape, the one he'd made for you. The one you'd listened to so many times that every crackle and skip was memorized.
The music filled the room quietly. For a moment, you just listened. Then your eyes burned again. Because of course they did.
"You remember when you gave me this?" you asked softly. "You spent three days pretending it wasn't a gift because you were nervous."
A laugh escaped you. "You literally left it in my locker and acted shocked when I found it."
Your hand found his; cold and still.
"You were so bad at flirting." You stared down at your intertwined fingers.
"You know, I was thinking about that day at Lover's Lake. The one where you nearly tipped the boat because you were trying to impress me."
A small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. "You swore you knew what you were doing."
You laughed through your nose. "You absolutely did not know what you were doing."
The memory lingered for a second before fading. And suddenly the smile disappeared, just like it always did. Because every good memory ended the same way now. With the realization that it was a memory. Not something you'd get to experience again. At least not yet.
Your throat tightened. "Dustin's having a rough time."
Your voice dropped. "He got into another fight."
You rubbed your thumb across the back of Eddie's hand. "I think he misses you more than he knows how to admit."
The tears came before you could stop them. "He acts tough about it. Tries to be angry instead of sad."
You swallowed. "Guess he learned that from us."
Your gaze dropped to the floor. The words started spilling out before you could stop them, like they always did when it was just the two of you, him awake or not.
"Everybody's falling apart, Eds."
Your voice cracked.
"Mike and Lucas keep snapping at each other. Robin's pretending she's okay. Nancy barely sleeps. Wayne calls every week asking if there's any change and I never know what to tell him."
Your shoulders slumped. "And Dustin..." You shook your head. "Dustin's breaking my heart."
The room remained silent, only the music answered. Only the machines. Only the steady reminder that he was still here. Still breathing. Still fighting.
You wiped angrily at your eyes. "I'm trying."
Another tear slipped down your cheek. "I'm really trying."
"I keep telling myself if I can just hold everybody together a little longer, you'll wake up, and everything will be okay."
You laughed. The sound was pathetic. "I know that's stupid."
Your eyes closed. "Some days I don't even feel like me anymore."
The tears came harder now. Months of grief finally finding somewhere to go.
"I punched Steve." A watery laugh escaped you. "There. Thought you'd appreciate that."
You sniffled. "He said some really awful stuff."
Your voice trembled. "So I punched him."
Another laugh, another sob. "Honestly, you'd probably be proud."
You covered your face. The ugly crying started then, the kind nobody ever talks about. The kind that leaves your chest aching, your nose running, and your entire body shaking. You stared down at the floor. At your shoes. At anything except him. Because looking at him hurt too much.
"I miss you." The words came out broken. "I miss you so much."
You squeezed your eyes shut. The tears wouldn't stop. "I need you."
Your shoulders shook. "Please wake up."
Nothing. Just silence. Just the tape playing softly. Just another night. Just another conversation that would never be answered. You dropped your head, staring at the floor. Crying too hard to even wipe your face anymore.
Then, a rasp. Tiny, barely audible. Your brow furrowed, and you froze. The room suddenly felt too quiet. Another sound, a rough inhale.
And then, "Hey..."
Your head snapped upward and every muscle in your body locked. For one horrible second, you thought you imagined it. Thought exhaustion had finally gotten to you. But then you saw it. His eyes. Open. Heavy. Groggy. Confused. But open.
Your breath caught violently in your throat. Neither of you moved. Neither of you breathed. Eddie blinked slowly. His gaze wandered around the room before finally settling on you. Even exhausted. Even weak. Even after everything, he recognized you immediately.
A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Hey, pretty girl."
A sob escaped you; fresh tears immediately spilled down your face.
Eddie frowned weakly, or at least attempted to. His voice came out rough and scratchy from disuse.
"No crying."
You laughed and cried at the same time, completely unable to stop either. His eyes fluttered slightly, still fighting to stay open.
But the smile remained. "No crying, sweetheart."
The next hour felt less like reality, and more like some strange dream you were terrified of waking up from. You cried, a lot. Eddie was awake for maybe thirty seconds before you burst into tears all over again, which earned you a weak, sleepy laugh and a very groggy, "Jesus Christ, sweetheart."
Then you cried harder. Then a nurse came running in because your hysterical sobbing had apparently convinced half the floor that somebody was dying. Then doctors appeared. Then more nurses. Then you got shoved into the hallway while they checked everything.
And the entire time, Eddie never took his eyes off you, like he was afraid if he blinked you'd disappear. The second a doctor finally confirmed that yes, Eddie was awake, yes, he was responding appropriately, and yes, this wasn't some bizarre fluke, your hands immediately found the nearest phone.
The first call was Wayne. You barely got through the words. "He's awake."
The line went silent, then you heard Wayne start crying.
The second call was Dustin. You didn't even bother with hello. "Get in the car."
"What?"
"Get in the car."
"Why?"
"Dustin."
A pause. Then, "...why are you crying?"
You laughed, the first genuine laugh you'd had in months. "Just get in the damn car."
Twenty minutes later, every person you knew seemed to be squeezing into a hospital room designed for about three people.
Robin was crying. Nancy was crying. Wayne was definitely crying. Lucas looked like he was trying not to cry. Mike had completely given up trying not to cry. Will was standing quietly in the corner looking like he might pass out from relief.
And Dustin? Dustin hadn't left Eddie's side once. Not for a second. Not even when nurses politely suggested giving the patient some room, especially not then. You stood near the back of the room watching as Dustin practically sat on the edge of the hospital bed.
"You're an asshole."
Eddie blinked slowly. "What?"
"You're an asshole."
A weak smile pulled at Eddie's lips. "Good morning to you too."
Dustin's face immediately crumpled. "You suck."
"Dustin—"
"You suck."
Eddie's expression softened immediately, months of missed conversations suddenly sitting between them. "I know."
Dustin looked away. His eyes were already watering again. "You weren't supposed to do that."
The room went silent. Nobody interrupted, and nobody moved. Because this wasn't for them; it never was.
Eddie swallowed. "You okay, Henderson?"
Dustin laughed, A broken sound. "No."
Eddie nodded slowly. "Yeah."
Then Dustin did something that would've mortified him under normal circumstances. He hugged him, immediately and without warning. Without caring who saw, practically throwing himself against Eddie's side. You quietly slipped from the room before anyone noticed. Or at least before anyone besides Steve noticed.
The hospital coffee tasted exactly how hospital coffee always tasted. Like disappointment. You stood beside the vending machine, staring out the window while the paper cup warmed your hands.
The sunrise was beginning to creep over the horizon. Everything felt strange. Good, but strange. You still hadn't quite convinced yourself this was real. Footsteps approached; you didn't need to look up to know whose they belonged to.
"Hey, Harrington."
"Hey." Steve stopped beside you. "You hit really hard."
You barked out a laugh, and Steve rubbed his jaw dramatically. "I'm serious."
"Oh my God."
"I think you rearranged my face."
"I barely hit you."
Steve stared. "Nancy literally begged to take me to the hospital. Or the dentist."
You snorted into your coffee. "That's embarrassing."
"It is."
A small smile appeared on his face, the first you'd seen in a while. Then it disappeared.
"Hey."
You looked over; Steve shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'm sorry. For what I said."
The exhaustion in his voice sounded genuine. "I shouldn't have said it."
You stared down into your coffee.
"No." You swallowed. "You shouldn't have."
Steve nodded. "For the record."
You glanced over as Steve pointed toward the room. "If Munson finds out you broke my face, I'm telling him it was self-defense."
You laughed despite yourself. "You literally outweigh me by fifty pounds."
"And?"
"I'll hit you again."
“I’m sure you would.
Eventually the two of you made your way back down the hallway. The closer you got to the room, the louder the voices became. Robin. Dustin. Wayne. Mike. Everybody talking over each other, just like old times.
The second you stepped inside, Eddie's attention immediately snapped toward the door. Still pale. Still exhausted. Still looking like he'd been through hell. But awake.
A smile tugged at his lips when he saw you, then his eyes drifted toward Steve. His brow furrowed immediately. "Whoa."
The room quieted, and Steve froze. Eddie squinted, looking genuinely concerned. "Harrington."
Steve sighed. "No."
"What happened to your face?"
Steve pointed directly at you. "Ask your girlfriend."
A couple of weeks passed.
Not enough time to undo everything that had happened. Not enough time to heal months of fear and grief and nightmares that still woke everyone up in the middle of the night.
But enough for things to start feeling... possible again.
The doctors were cautiously optimistic. Eddie was still weaker than he'd ever admit out loud, still attending physical therapy, still complaining every single time someone reminded him to take it easy, but he was alive. Awake. Walking. Talking. Smiling.
Complaining. Which, according to Wayne, was the best sign of recovery they could've asked for.
The situation with Hawkins, however, was a little more complicated.
You'd gone straight to Hopper. He hadn't even let you finish your sentence before pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering, "Kid, I'm already working on it."
The whole story had been laid out in front of him. Owens had done what he could behind the scenes, Hopper had done the rest, and somewhere between paperwork, witness statements that would never see the light of day, and a whole lot of pulling strings that probably weren't entirely legal, the investigation into Eddie Munson quietly lost steam.
No dramatic public apology, no newspaper retracting everything they'd said, no magical moment where Hawkins suddenly realized they'd been wrong.
Just the charges disappearing. The warrants disappearing. His name disappearing from conversations. It wasn't justice, but it was enough.
Enough that Eddie could come home. Enough that he could enroll again. Enough that, after everything, he was finally going to graduate.
The morning he walked through the front doors of Hawkins High, the entire Party had insisted on escorting him in like he was some kind of celebrity. Dustin practically refused to leave Eddie's side for the entire day.
Eddie looked around the hallway with that same crooked grin you'd fallen in love with and whispered, "I still hate this place."
You laughed so hard you had to grab onto his arm. Months ago, you'd convinced yourself you'd never hear his voice again. Now he was complaining about school. Life was weird, wonderfully weird.
By the end of October, he'd started driving again. By November, he'd started playing guitar again.
The first time he picked it up, he'd only made it through half a song before quietly setting it back down, frustrated with how stiff his fingers felt.
You hadn't said a word. You'd just sat beside him, rested your head on his shoulder, taken his hand.
He looked at you for a long time before muttering, "You'll tell me if I suck now, right?"
You smiled. "I always did."
He rolled his eyes. "Brutal."
"You love me."
"I do." Then, after a dramatic pause, "But you're brutal."
Eventually the leaves started changing. The air turned cold enough that Eddie started stealing your jackets instead of the other way around.
One afternoon the two of you drove with no destination in mind until you ended up parked beside an open field just outside town. The grass had gone golden, the sky stretching endlessly overhead.
No monsters. No sirens. No hospitals. No machines. Just silence.
You spread out an old blanket and laid down first, staring up at the clouds. A second later, Eddie flopped down beside you with an exaggerated groan before immediately rolling over and pulling you against him.
You pressed your face against his chest, just because you could. His fingers absentmindedly combed through your hair.
Neither of you spoke for a while; you didn't have to. Eventually, he broke the silence, because of course he would.
"You know..."
"Hm?"
"I don't remember everything."
You tilted your head just enough to look at him. "What do you remember?"
He thought about it. "Bits."
"The bats."
You nodded.
"Wayne."
Another nod.
"I remember you crying."
You laughed quietly. "That doesn't narrow it down much."
"It really doesn't."
He smiled, then his expression softened. "I remember hearing your voice."
Your chest tightened. "When?"
"I don't know." His thumb brushed gently across your cheek. "It felt like every day."
You swallowed hard. "I talked a lot."
"I know."
"I told you everything."
"I know."
"I talked about Dustin."
"I know."
"I complained about Steve."
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I definitely know."
Your eyes stung. "I played your mixtape until I think I almost broke it."
His smile only grew. "I know that too."
You stared at him, confused.
"I heard you."
The world seemed to stop. "What?"
His voice was barely above a whisper. "I couldn't move."
"I couldn't answer." His own eyes had started to water now. "But I heard you."
A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it.
"I heard every story."
Another.
"I heard you tell me about Dustin getting into fights."
Another.
"I heard you complain about hospital coffee."
You laughed through your tears, he reached up and brushed them away with his thumb.
"And..." His own voice cracked. "I heard you tell me you weren't giving up on me."
You couldn't speak; your throat had closed completely. So you just nodded a tiny, shaky nod.
Eddie smiled, small and tender. "You didn't."
"No."
"You could've."
"I wasn't going to."
"You should've."
"I wasn't going to."
Silence settled between you again. Then you leaned forward until your forehead rested against his.
"I would've sat in that hospital room for another ten years if I had to."
He shut his eyes, and a tear escaped anyway. "I know."
"I would've waited twenty."
"I know."
"I would've waited my whole life."
His breathing hitched.
You smiled through your own tears. "There wasn't really another option."
He looked at you for a long moment before leaning in and kissing you. Slowly, with no urgency and no desperation. Just gentle, soft enough that it felt more like a promise than a kiss.
When he pulled away, his forehead stayed against yours. "I love you."
You smiled. "I know."
He immediately frowned. "That's it?"
You laughed. "I love you too."
"Better."
Another kiss. Then another. One pressed against your forehead. Another against your temple. One against the tip of your nose just because he knew it made you laugh.
The sun continued sinking lower across the field.
Wrapped up in his arms, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, you realized this was something that would've seemed impossible a few months ago.
Who cutting onions!?!?!?!
I'm sorry, I had to write this, though. I had that fight scene with Steve in my brain for a while.
content warnings: oral (f receiving), p in v, creampie, filthy!! no use of y/n
That's why he's practically speeding to your house, his work uniform still on—no time to change when he feels like he's about to die without you.
The way he shows up makes you genuinely worried. He's ringing the bell like crazy, that's how eager to see you he is.
And when you open the door, ready to ask him what's wrong, you're immediately met with a kiss that makes you weak in the knees.
His hands firmly cupping your face, lips moving against yours, his tongue already searching for a way into your mouth.
It's sudden, but you don't fight it. You welcome him, exactly like you've done many times before, your tongue as eager as his, hands coming up to tug at his hair.
"I missed you." he confesses into your mouth, lips clumsily over yours. "So, so much."
"We haven't seen each other in...like a couple hours." you giggle, trying to uphold the kiss.
"Felt like months." he says, before slamming the door behind you and then quickly pining you to the surface. "I need you so bad."
He's on his knees in seconds, big hands resting on your hips, slightly tugging at the waistband of your shorts.
"Let me, please."
The way he's looking up at you makes your breath hitch, your thighs squeezing uncontrollably just before his face.
You mutter a quiet yes, your hands landing over his and gently guiding the waistband down.
"Fuck, you're so wet." he says, getting rid of your shorts completely. "So perfect for me."
He starts peppering kisses all over your thighs, your lower belly, and then finally—his lips land where you need him the most.
His gaze finds your face just as his tongue slowly slips into your folds, both of you whimpering at the sensation.
He's handling you like an expert, doing everything right, touching you exactly how he knows you like.
"So fucking sweet." he murmurs into you, working faster as you get more vocal, moans starting to fill the quiet corridor.
"Steve...oh my god." you praise, your eyes never leaving each other.
You watch how hard he works between your legs, how his nose keeps rubbing against your clit, how good he's making you feel.
And he's watching how you slowly fall apart, how your mouth parts under the pleasure—your moans getting louder, breaths more shallow.
"Need you to ride my face so bad, baby." he says, hands grabbing onto your ass, almost pushing you into him.
And you do. Your hips start to rock to meet his mouth, grinding on it harder, using him to get all the pleasure you need.
"I'm so close..."
You cry out when Steve slips his finger into your wet pussy, the sensation so intense that your head drops back against the door, moaning his name over and over.
"Now, show me."
"Steve, Steve oh my god..." you manage to say.
And that only makes him more eager. He doesn't stop, he devours you, licking into you like a man starved. Your whole body is on fire, you swear you can feel pleasure in every fucking nerve.
And when you finally start to come down from the high, you have to bring him back to reality too, his mouth not stopping until you tug at his hair.
"Give me a minute to breathe, Harrington." you laugh, lovingly cupping his face into your hands.
He's beautifully ruined. Nose, chin, all smeared with evidence of your pleasure, of his hard work.
"I'm not done yet." he says, standing up and capturing your lips with his, once again kissing you with so much eagerness.
His hands are everywhere, trailing up from your thighs, hips, grabbing onto your breasts and squeezing them.
"One would think you're trying to seduce me." you laugh against his mouth, but that quickly changes into a breathless moan when Steve turns you around and pushes into a small cabinet.
"I don't need to try, do I?" he whispers against your ear, taking off your shirt and leaving you completely bare.
"What are you–" but you don't get to finish, because his fingers clasp around your nipples, squeezing them teasingly.
He kisses your neck, playing with the sensitive buds until you're aching and ready for him again.
He leans your body against the cabinet top, your back and ass perfectly in display for his view.
You look back, watching him undress from that work uniform you honestly loved, and admire as your eyes fall down. His cock is fucking huge, already leaking from all the excitement.
"Like what you see?" he teases, pumping himself a few times before pushing the tip into your entrance, both of you whining at the contact.
"Fuck me, Steve. Please."
And you don't have to ask twice, because he's immediately pushing deeper, your body already so familiar with him.
After a minute he's already rocking into you like crazy, his hips snapping hard against your skin. You have to cling onto the cabinet to ease all the extra movement, your knuckles going white with the force.
He's fucking you so well, so good that you're unable to think, your mind in a haze of pleasure as moans slip out of you uncontrollably.
"Fuck, you're taking me so good like this, so fucking hot." he says between his own moans, almost like he's reading your thoughts. "I was ready to come when I was eating you out, not gonna last much longer."
You moan, your hard nipples coming in contact with the cabinet with every move now, adding to the pleasure.
"Finish inside, please Stevie." you whine, eyes rolling back as bliss washes over you again, this time even more intense. You swear you can feel yourself leaking onto his cock, straight down to your quivering thighs.
"Oh, fuck yes." he manages to say between his labored breaths, warmth immediately spilling into you. "Thank you, thank you, baby."
He's muttering nonsense and praising you until his voice completely dies down, the corridor growing quiet again.
You stay like this for a while, just being still and basking in all that has happened, until you feel the emptiness, suddenly not used to being without him.
He gently takes your body into his arms, kissing your lips, nose, cheeks, even forehead.
"Let's take a bath, sounds good to you?" he asks sweetly, looking at you with adoration.
You smile, slowly pecking his jaw, hugging your body closer to his.
u know youre cooked when you're at an actual social event in real life and still get hit with that "i miss eddie 😿" shit...... girl you haven't met him. he doesn't exist. he's pixels.
Nervous Eddie, protective reader, and a drunk love confession. Idiots who are too dumb to realise their feelings are reciprocated. 9.4K of tooth rotting friends to lovers fluff. [Re-uploaded from my old blog]
Even when it was Valentine's day it wasn’t all that surprising to open your door to a random knock and find Eddie Munson staring back at you.
He was your best friend after all.
What was surprising however, was to open your door at nearly midnight, bleary eyed and more than a little bit annoyed, to a sheepish looking Steve Harrington.
His usually perfect hair was in wild disarray from the winter winds still sweeping through Hawkins and there was a hesitant smile on his face, all boyish charm and sweetness, like he was already intent on persuading you to forgive him before you even knew why.
But then you had taken a closer look, letting the light from inside spill out onto the porch to reveal that Steve wasn’t alone. Appearing to be struggling with a rather drunk Eddie, arms straining, looped around the longer haired boy who instead of being on the ‘hot date’ he’d been rambling about having all week, was half asleep, swaying back and forth into his friend’s side.
"He called me to come get him but when I got there he wouldn’t stop asking for you.” Steve explained before you had the chance to ask, grumbling good naturedly. “Didn’t wanna drop him off home and risk him having the genius idea of trying to get here himself, s’that okay?”
You nodded in response, still a little confused but you couldn’t stop yourself from softening. Chest warming as you mumbled a quick ‘of course’ and tried to bite back the laugh that was threatening to bubble up at the way Eddie was trying to use Steve like some kind of pillow.
The wild mess of his curls spilling down to cover his face as his head fell to the other boy’s shoulder with a quiet groan, ringed fingers curling into the fabric of Steve’s jumper and voice rough as he grumbled your name again, again, again.
"Yeah, she's here, man." Steve chuckled, his tone surprisingly gentle, a fond type of exasperated as he nudged his shoulder into the rosy squish of Eddie's cheek. "You wanna wake up now so you can actually see her?"
To your surprise he actually listened.
His head snapping up quicker than you anticipated, curls bouncing with the movement and brown eyes a touch glazed over, just that little bit unfocused, before they locked on you and then his mouth split into a blinding grin. The kind that made his whole face light up and your heart flip all too wild behind your ribs.
"There’s my pretty girl." He cooed loudly and you heard Steve snort, something that sounded an awful lot like ‘very smooth Munson, jesus christ’ muttered under his breath whilst he fought to remain upright against the weight of Eddie leaning his entire body in your direction.
You did laugh then.
A bright, flustered thing that you were unable to resist any longer, along with the way your arms opened on reflex to wrap around the boy when he finally managed to break free of his friend’s hold. His hands batting furiously at Steve’s as he twisted away, and only stumbled slightly in his determination to swoop you up into hug that was all leather, cheap beer and the smoky bite of whiskey - weed and the spice of his shampoo where his hair tickled at your nose.
"Hey sweets.” He whispered, humming happily as he pushed a messy kiss to your hairline.
God, why did that make you want to melt.
“Hey Eddie, you okay?” You asked softly, one hand rubbing gentle circles on his back and the other reaching up to cradle the back of his head.
It made him snuggle into you further, ducking down so he could press his face into the warm crook of your neck as his arms tightened and you prayed he was too drunk to notice the way your pulse thrummed faster when he spoke, soft lips brushing against sensitive skin.
"‘Am now.”
You froze for just a second, lips parted, blinking once, twice, just to make sure you had really heard what you thought you had and when it did fully register you wondered if the heat radiating off your cheeks was as obvious as it felt.
A quick glance at Steve told you it was.
Your friend was looking at you and Eddie all huddled together with an endless amount of amusement and affection, eyes twinkling as he grinned, shining like there was something he knew that you didn’t.
"Okay then, that’s good I guess,” You croaked out, voice a little too affected for your liking, coughing slightly in attempt to cover the sudden shyness you felt before you told the other boy. “I better get him to bed before he falls asleep standing up.”
Steve chuckled at that. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” He added, snorting at the ‘hey, screw you Harrington, it was one time’ that sounded from the metalhead still needily curling himself around you. “You need a hand hauling his ass upstairs?”
You considered it but then the poor Steve was desperately trying to fight a vicious yawn and failing, his eyes tired despite the way they crinkled as he smiled when you gave him a mothering look and made a shooing motion with the hand that wasn’t still making gentle strokes down Eddie’s back.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got him, go get some sleep, yeah? And thank you for bringing him.”
He hesitated but ultimately didn’t argue and you waved him goodbye as he drove away before shutting the door. Turning your full attention to your best friend who had slowly become suspiciously heavier, arms loosely folded around your waist and hands still, where only moments before they’d been trailing patterns along your spine.
"Eddie?”
Nothing.
“Eds?” You tried again and when there was no response a second time your eyes narrowed, suspicious.
The boy remained limp as your hands snuck past denim and leather, his breathing light and even whilst your fingers crept up his vest covered sides until you met torn fabric and then smooth, warm skin.
You let them rest there just a moment, waiting, and when he made no move to give up the pretence of sleep that you suspected, you dug them in a little firmer, tickling across his ribs until you heard a choked laugh and felt the stretch of his grin against your neck.
"Just let me sleep here, m’comfy.” He whined when you took to the task with more enthusiasm, snickering as he protested. But he was still laughing as he jerked and thrashed, dramatic as ever, and then threw himself out of your arms, cheeks flushed with it and dimples showing despite the glare he attempted to pin you with, snapping. “Fuckin’ devil woman, give me peace.”
There was no heat behind it and you smiled sweetly in return,reaching over to poke him in the cheek before pointing in the direction of the staircase. “I’ll give you peace Munson when you get your ass upstairs so we can go to bed.”
He raised his brows at the demand, dark eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Are you trying to seduce me sweetheart? Do I need to call Steve to come back and protect my virtue, save my poor innocent soul from being snatched by a temptress?” Eddie asked playfully, all faux horror and scandalised expression, a hand pressed to his heart as he choked down a bark of laughter at the way you stared at him, incredulous.
"Jesus christ.”
"No, I’m Eddie, remember? If you’re tryin’ to seduce a man at least get his name right, babe.”
You threw your arms up in the air, let out a long-suffering groan whilst the boy cackled and then you were marching towards him, fingers twisting in denim as you shoved him in front of you and walked him in the direction of the stairs and to your room.
"Shit, okay, I’m going.” He yelped, sniggering when he heard you grumbling behind him as he deliberately leaned his full weight back into the press of your hand and tsked, voice full of tease. “So fuckin’ pushy, you're lucky the whole bossy thing works on me.”
There was a familiar routine to the way you entered your bedroom, the kind that developed after countless nights of Eddie deciding it was too late to drive home despite the journey only being five minutes, of you both refusing to let the other take the couch that very first time until you eventually agreed, with shy smiles and faux nonchalant shrugs, that it was no big deal if you just shared the bed.
Friends totally did that, right?
It happened enough that he claimed a side and a drawer, that tapes and other trinkets of his littered the tops of your dressers, mixing with yours, and you’d even bought an ashtray and a spare lighter especially for the bedside table on his side.
And it happened enough for it to be second nature for Eddie to veer left and you right, clumsily kicking his shoes off before he fell into the bed with a contended groan and turning just time in to catch the old, faded sweats he left the last time he stayed that you threw before they could slap him in the face.
"You smell like a brewery Eds, don’t even think of getting in that bed until you’ve changed.”
"Mean.” He groaned but he hauled himself back up and did as you asked, shrugging off denim and leather in one go until all he was left in was tight, black jeans and a slashed up vest that showed more tattoos and bare skin than it possibly hid. His silver chain glinting prettily where it lay against his collarbones.
And oh fuck, you were staring.
Despite the fear that prickled at your skin at the thought of being caught, it felt impossible not to.
Because Eddie had always been far too pretty, a heartbreaking kind of gorgeous really, and if that wasn’t distracting enough, then the way his muscles moved as he yanked the vest over his head before dropping his hands to his belt certainly was.
You swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry when you realised your eyes had followed, fixed on the flex of his hands, and you couldn’t stop from wondering if they’d look just as perfect dragging up your bare waist, gripping at your thighs. Maybe circling your neck, cupping your chin, rings glittering in the low lamplight, before his lips descended on yours.
Jesus.
You wrenched your gaze away, fully intending it to land somewhere more decent. Somewhere that wasn’t your best friend and where it couldn’t ruin that easy bond you’d always had with the boy by giving all your secrets away.
But it felt like there was some kind of higher power at play, some hand of fate kind of bullshit that brought it straight back to Eddie, to his eyes that were already watching you, darker than usual and more than a little wild.
It made your breath catch in your chest. Cheeks flaming with heat, heart slamming against your ribs hard enough you thought your bones might shatter, and god, could he hear it?
You already knew by the look on his face that Eddie had seen every single second of your staring, that he’d been able to guess every little thought that swam through your mind and revealed themselves in the brief flash of want in your expression before you could shove it back down.
You just hadn’t noticed him doing the same.
Gaze lingering on his shirt that you were wrapped up in, the way the hem was as long as the length of your sleep shorts and made it seem like you were wearing nothing else, the way it made you look too soft, too enticing, too much like you were his and when his eyes flicked back up to yours he looked at you like you were something dangerous.
Like you were making him want something he shouldn’t ask for, or at least, didn’t think he could.
You licked your lips, a nervous sweep of your tongue as the air in the room seemed to thicken, and his gaze followed the movement hungrily as if he wished it was his mouth sliding over them instead.
But then the wind was howling, branches smacking and scraping at your window, the sound bringing reality crashing back in and making you both flinch.
Eddie’s cheeks were pink and his lips parted, a strangled noise slipping past them as he tried to speak and stumbled and suddenly you couldn’t look at him. Eyes snapping shut and mortification burning in your throat as you spun round before you could make an even bigger mistake than you already had, because what the hell were you doing?
What were you thinking?
This was Eddie.
Eddie, who you swore to never let your feelings for ruin your friendship.
Eddie, who you were convinced was still very much drunk and you very much weren’t.
It felt wrong.
It felt like you were begging to have your feelings hurt when the boy became clear headed enough to realise that the person he was looking at like he wanted to push them down onto the bed and devour, happened to be his best friend and inevitably freaked the fuck out.
He had just come back from a date with someone else after all, a date that he would have never thought to ask you on and despite the fact that you suspected it must not have gone well given his current state, it didn’t really make you feel any better or lessen the sting of jealousy that felt like barbed wire snaking through your ribs.
You continued to face the wall as he changed, cheeks still burning, stained with heat. But your gaze was unfocused as it flickered over lines of polaroids, fairy lights and old ticket stubs that you’d refused to throw away and used as decoration, your mind far too aware of the sound of his belt being unbuckled, the chains on his jeans clinking quietly before the denim hit the floor with a soft thud.
The silence that spread through the room after felt overwhelming, like it amplified every little movement either one of you made, the breaths you both took that made your chests fall a little too quick, a little uneven still, and when Eddie finally cleared his throat you tensed at the way it broke the quiet so harshly it felt like he’d made the noise directly in your ear.
"It’s okay - if you wanna turn around now, I mean.” He muttered softly.
It still felt like too much to look at him.
Maybe even more now because all you could see out of the corner of your eye before you walked towards the little lamp on your desk was messy hair and bare skin, sweats slung low on his hips. Big, brown eyes that seemed to be pleading with you to meet their stare and melt back into your usual softness with him like nothing had happened.
You couldn’t.
Not yet.
So you flicked the light off whilst the boy sighed and slipped beneath the covers, shoving his face into a pillow that smelled faintly like you as he squeezed his eyes shut before they flashed open again when he heard your approaching footsteps.
Eddie swallowed as you drifted close, throat bobbing when the air between you seemed to hum again once there was less of it as you reached above him to draw the curtains tighter, knowing how much the boy hated any hint of sunlight first thing in the morning.
There were nerves all lit up inside him that he hadn’t been able to shake all night, fondness fizzing in his chest when he heard the sound of the unopened bottle of water you’d brought up for yourself being set down next to the pile of his rings. The rattle of painkillers being plucked from the draw following before you moved around the bed and pulled back the sheets to climb in beside him.
He couldn’t help but hate what felt like an ocean of cool sheets that you deliberately left between you.
Hated that you didn’t push into his side and press your legs to his to steal his heat like you usually did, hated the way you lay stiff with tension in your own bed, facing the ceiling he had helped you paint one summer instead of facing him like you would when you would whisper with him, nose to nose, until the sun came up.
And when you did finally turn, a soft frown on your face as you wriggled to find a more comfortable position, he hated that your eyes widened slightly with panic when you finally noticed he was watching you.
It made his brows pull together in a distressed frown - his throat tight with guilt when you quickly glanced down at your hands that were knotting in the bed sheets.
An anxious habit he despised being the cause of because god, the last thing Eddie had ever wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable because he couldn’t keep his own feelings in check.
For the longest time he looked at you like he wanted to say something, working his jaw like he wanted to address what had happened and apologise but couldn’t find the right words, his eyes soft and sad in the pale slip of moonlight from the window.
And then he seemed to think better of it.
You were caught off guard when he smiled instead. A soft grin that was all easy warmth and a touch playful as he reached to poke a finger to your cheek and whispered, “thanks for taking care of me, sweets.”
You huffed out a laugh like you couldn't help yourself and the boy took it as small progress when you visibly relaxed. Taking the opportunity to get more and more dramatic with his prodding and tickling until he could feel the way your body vibrated with the giggles bubbling up from your chest and you’d allowed yourself to sink fully into the bed, rolling closer as you tried to fend him off.
"Someone has to make sure you’ll be alive enough to take us for breakfast in the morning.” You whispered back sternly when your face re-emerged from its hiding place in the mattress.
But your smile was matching Eddie’s, growing wider when he caught the hand you tried to bat his away with and gently pinched at your fingers.
"So you’re only being nice so you can use me.” He gasped theatrically and propped himself up on an elbow to stare down at you, all over the top stricken expression as he stifled a laugh when you shoved your face into the pillow and groaned. “How could my best friend betray me like this?”
You turned your head back to face him, rolling your eyes before levelling him with a thoughtful stare. “I wouldn’t call it using,” you mused, slipping your arm under your pillow and beneath your head as you yawned, “more like cashing in straight away on a debt, y’know, since you woke me up in the middle of the night. Which, as my best friend, you’ll remember makes me very grumpy in the morning.”
Eddie nodded, bangs falling into his eyes as he did so. He was serious for all of a second before he let himself fall back into the mused sheet with a guilty grin, hair spilling everywhere and the movement making your body lean into the dip he created, suddenly closer to the boy than before.
"Touche.”
The word came out in a small huff that you felt it against your cheek, a soft thing that made your lashes flutter and when you glanced up at him you found him looking at you with gentle eyes, all brown sugar sweet and lovely as he smiled, full of affection.
It made the last of the left-over tension fizzle away, turning the air softer, warmer, as Eddie drew lines along your fingers with his own before he slotted them together.
You hadn’t even realised he was still holding your hand.
"You win, babe,” He murmured, almost too quiet to hear, his thumb rubbing slow against your skin, touch worshipful as he traced the faint scar on your hand that was proof monsters were never simply just part of stories, and if he noticed the way you inhaled a little shakily, well, he did his best not to show it.
“I’ll do anything you want, maybe take you to that bakery you like and buy you coffee so you’ll stop hissing at me and then so many of those cinnamon things that like that you’ll go into a sugar coma and I’ll have to carry you out.”
You snorted and Eddie beamed like he’d hit the jackpot, encouraged by the sound as he arched a brow like he was begging you to argue.
"Idon’t hiss.” You muttered petulantly, full of false indignation whilst you scrunched your nose to hide your grin and knocked your knee against his.
His gaze shone at you, eyes bright and twinkling with mirth in the dark, and when he managed to fend off your attack by hooking a leg over yours to trap it between his own, he continued with a teasing scoff.
“You do. You’re like some kind of rabid raccoon when you wake up, I’m lucky I still have both eyes and all my fingers.” He wiggled the ones resting snug around yours for emphasis and you snorted. “Now shut up, I’m trying to impress you with my plan to get back in your good graces.”
You huffed, too amused to be offended, and gestured with your linked hands as if to say ‘well go on then’
Okay, so after I’ve carried you out of the bakery, we’d go to the bookstore,” the boy told you, gaze knowing and smile a little smug when he noticed that he’d caught your attention despite the way you tried to hide it from him.
"Always a pretty foolproof plan - which one though?”
“Not the fancy one where the housewives hog the couches pretending to talk about their weekly book club read,” Eddie assured you, his voice dropping to a scandalised hush, the fingers that weren’t holding yours tugging at his curls to hide a salacious grin as he whispered, “when instead they’re bitching about how their husbands don’t satisfy them anymore and how they’ve had to resort to fucking the pool boy so they can feel young again.”
"Of course,” You choked on a laugh, a startled, delighted sound that made Eddie’s heart stutter and his chest ache with warmth. “Can’t have them cheapening the wholesome moment when I’m overcome with the joy of being surrounded by books and finally forgive you.”
"Exactly.” He replied sagely. “So we’re gonna go to that one near Oak instead with the shit ton of stacks everywhere that threaten to fall and crush you if you breathe near them. Works better in my favour if I get to save you from a gruesome death.”
You nodded, only looking half as serious as Eddie thanks to the way you could barely stop the threat of giggles rising in your throat. “I get it, totally get extra brownie points for a hero moment.”
"Right? And then maybe I’ll get you one of the books you stare at all longingly everytime we go in 'cause for some reason you act like it’s a fuckin’ crime to treat yourself once in a while-”
"-I do not! I just have other things that kind of have to take priority, y’know like bills and stuff. ”
"Same thing.” Eddie dismissed, but his voice was softly teasing and his gaze understanding as he fingers tapped a random beat against your hand. “Anyway, after that we’ll rent some movies and get some snacks, maybe horrors so I can be all charming and let you hold my hand when it gets scary, we’ll get pizza for dinner and by the end of it you’ll have totally forgot that I crashed your romantic night with yourself and ruined your sleep.”
You stared at him. “And that’s all it’s gonna take, huh?”
"Don’t pretend you’re not impressed, sweetheart.” He grinned knowingly, looking too proud of himself as his hand slipped out of yours to prod a finger to where your cheeks were appled, aching from smiling far too long.
He wished he could kiss them instead, brush his lips over the pretty flush that bloomed after his touch made you realise you never really had stopped smiling from the moment he started speaking. “Look at you, just dyin’ to forgive me right now, I can tell.”
You hated that he was right.
Not about you dying to forgive him now, because the truth was Eddie hadn’t actually done anything to need forgiveness, no, it was the fact that if you were ever genuinely mad and the boy did all that for you, you knew in your bones you would fold in a pathetic, lovesick heartbeat.
It was the fact that Eddie knew it too, he just hadn’t figured out why.
Yet.
So you swatted at him once again and tried to discreetly shuffle back whilst he was distracted threatening to snap his teeth down on your fingers.
You were praying for some distance, needed it so you could breathe without the scent of him making you feel weak, so you could hide in the dark for the moment it would take to stop looking at him like he’d shoved his hand inside your chest, wrapped long fingers around your heart and slipped it out to put it where it belonged. With him.
But your legs were still tangled with Eddie’s and your body was against you when he clamped his legs down to stop you from slipping away. Turned traitor by the feel of soft fleece pressing to your bare calves, the muscles of his arms flexing when he threw one over your waist and pushed the other one beneath you to roll you on top of him.
His biceps were warm where you caught at him with your hands to steady yourself and as he shifted a little higher up the pillow, stretching until he found himself comfortable, you cursed the warmth it spread through your belly.
"See, you can’t even deny it can you?” Eddie prompted and you felt it rumble from his chest to your own, chin dipped to peer down at you and cheeks dimpling as his grin turned smug. Unbelievably delighted that you had yet to refute him.
You wrinkled your nose when he tapped a finger there, if only to hide the shock that lingered on your face, the way you felt flushed all over because there was no part of you that wasn’t touching him and jesus christ, it felt like his hands resting on your sides were burning through the thin material of your shirt, threatening to brand the skin beneath.
“What, no– I mean yes– I mean, shit, you know what I mean asshole” You finished with a scowl and prayed your rambling had sounded less frantic to Eddie than it had to your own ears, though judging by the way he arched a brow at you, gaze dancing with withheld laughter, you would guess you had failed there too.
'Uh huh, but feel free to keep tryin’ to enlighten me anyway.”
"I was just wondering,” you began, all false confidence just to hide the fact you were still unsure of where you were going with it. Stalling just a little because it was hard to remember what you had been wondering before he had decided to use you as a blanket, your chest now lying atop his abdomen, stomach resting against his hips and legs cradled between his own.
You let go of his arms to fold your hands at the centre of his chest, settling your chin there, and his eyes softened as they roamed your face, waiting for you to continue. “Okay, so how does it make sense that you can pull off something like that and yet you’re here with me, drunk, instead of on your date swooning the hell out of Sarah?”
"Sam.”
“Same thing.”
“Not even close, sweetheart.”
“At least I got the first two letters right, unlike you with the last guy I dated.” You shot back.
Eddie shrugged. “He looked like a Danny.” He defended mildly but his gaze was playful, bottom lip tucked between his teeth to hold back the laugh threatening to escape when you threw a death glare his way.
“His name was Matthew.” You deadpanned and the boy snorted, throwing his hands up in a placating gesture when it looked like you might rip the pillow from beneath his head and smother him with it.
But then you were shaking your head instead, an accusatory finger jabbed to his chest and you rolled your eyes when he frowned and muttered a petulant ‘ow’.
“Hang on, why are we even arguing this again? Answer the question Munson - did you try to take her to skull rock again? ‘Cause I don’t give a damn what Steve says, just because you take a fucking picnic it doesn’t suddenly make a make out spot romantic”
He made a disturbed noise and shook his head but you didn’t miss the way his face fell a little at you bringing up the date again, smile half-hearted at best, and even the dark couldn’t hide the way his eyes had dimmed. His thumbs that had been dragging small, steady circles over the sides of your ribs faltering as he dropped his gaze from yours.
It made you gentle - the sense of protectiveness that tightened your chest and urged you to shuffle your way up his body until you were seated in his lap, knees dragging the sheets askew. Fingers finding their way to his chin to bring his stare back to you and you were too focused on your worry to register the way it made his lashes flutter, eyes hooded and lips parted, breath hitching at the gesture.
"Hey - did something happen tonight? Is that why you came back in such a state?” You murmured, eyes flicking between his, searching, before your tone suddenly grew sharp and your hand fell flat against his chest. “Was she a dick to you - I swear to god if she was I’ll get dressed right now and–”
You were cut off by Eddie’s hand descending over yours, the other landing on the thigh that you had already raised to clamber off him, squeezing the flesh softly, drawing it back down, and the fight left you just as fast as it had appeared when he chuckled, his voice smudged with fondness, awe, a hint of pride.
“Okay, reign it in Rocky, nothin’ bad happened I promise, you don’t need to go runnin’ off into the night to defend my honour.”
But god, he wanted to kiss you for trying to.
He settled for watching you watch him instead, your frown of concern that he itched to smooth away with his thumb still present before you eventually nodded, only slightly pacified when you had found no sign of a lie in the way he met your gaze.
And Eddie knew it was foolish to hope that was the end of it, knew the expression on your face all too well despite the way it flickered sweet just for a moment, just for him, as he released your hand to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.
So it came as no surprise to the boy when you seemed to be considering your next words as you tilted your head, whether to deliberately lean into his touch or just a habit whilst you thought he wasn’t sure.
Maybe it was coincidence or maybe it was both, either way when your hand followed his seconds after he had let it go to clasp gently at his wrist, his heart spasmed despite knowing what was coming.
"There was something though, wasn’t there? You stated but you were quiet in how you spoke, gentle, trying to make sure Eddie knew he wasn’t being pushed, that you were only concerned, and everything about it made him ache. His thoughts going a cotton-wool kind of hazy that he wasn’t convinced he could blame on the alcohol anymore.
He let his thumb brush the downturned corner of your lips, a brief second of indulgence before he pressed up, moulding your mouth into a smile until he spied it becoming a real one, the kind that would have had Eddie dropping to his knees if he’d been standing, as you knocked his hand away.
He tapped at your legs then, drumming lightly at the creases of your knees and up the backs of your thighs, making you twitch.
You got the hint though, rising off him just enough for him to push himself up and then back, leaning against the pillows before he held out his hands for you to take so you could climb back into his lap.
It felt like his first mistake.
Or was it his second, after coming here in the first place? Third, after losing his head and nearly kissing you?
He’d lost count.
All he knew was that it was suddenly a little harder to breathe, that being this close didn’t feel as innocent as it had five minutes ago.
As it had all the other times you’d been tucked tight against him, sleepily whispering secrets until dawn broke and your head fell heavy against his shoulder, leaving Eddie to have to carefully roll you back on to the mattress so you didn’t wake up stiff and sore.
Your hands were soft on his stomach, forcing the boy to fight off a shudder every time you traced the dark lines of another tattoo, jaw slack as he watched every little movement of your fingers with rapt attention, only realising he’d been repeating each one with his own touch on your thighs when he felt the brush of soft fabric against his fingertips.
It took Eddie a second to tear his eyes away from the sight, to meet your gaze with pink cheeks and lips almost bitten raw and find that you had swayed closer.
Close enough so that he could map each little freckle that made up constellations on your cheeks in the moonlight that slanted over your features, noses only inches apart and he swallowed down a choked curse when he remembered you were probably still expecting an answer.
He licked his lips, unsure of how much he could give away, and shrugged, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. "S’really nothin’ for you to worry about princess, the date was fine and she was… great - incredible actually - we just, uh, mutually decided there was a point in taking it past a one time thing.”
The silence stretched long enough that Eddie wondered if he was maybe more wasted than he'd thought. He must have been if the question of whether telling you the truth was really as bad as he'd feared was nudging at his brain, the consequences seeming a lot less daunting the longer allowed himself to consider it.
Because there you were, looking at him with the prettiest confused expression he'd ever seen and all of a sudden it felt like the worst crime in the world to lie to you. That you deserved more than the way he'd been continuously lying to you for years and if there was the slightest chance - which sometimes he thought there were signs there could be - that you wanted him to be the one who gave you more, then he had to take it, right?
"I don't understand,” you said slowly, face scrunched like you were trying to figure out if you missed something somewhere in his explanation, like you were trying to hide how the boy calling Sarah - Sam - whatever her name was - incredible in a dazed voice had made your stomach twist. "If she was so amazing and the date was a hit, why wouldn't you want to see her again?"
"Well turns out no matter how awesome a girl is, she doesn't really wanna waste time trying to date someone who's in love with someone else.”
"Makes sense-" you shrugged, and then it sunk in what he had said. "-no, wait, hang on - what?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled, a little shaky, a little rough, and despite the easy grin he tried to offer, there was an undeniable bloom of nervousness unfurling in his eyes, “crazy right? I mean I expected her to leave when she figured it out but then she stayed and even tried giving me advice, which maybe me taking wasn't the best decision 'cause it involved some liquid courage and telling the girl how I feel but I kinda took the first part too far, which is how I ended up like this– ”
He gestured wildly to himself and when his hands dropped back to rest on your bare thighs it took all you had not to flinch. Your brain felt fuzzy, chest too tight, and suddenly every part of your body that was pressed to his felt like it was in agony. A new kind of torture.
Eddie was in love with someone else.
And he hadn't even told you.
"Eddie–” you murmured weakly, because christ , he was still talking and you just really needed him to stop .
"-she originally offered to help make her jealous, which was fuckin' insane , I thought that shit only happened in movies. I gave it a hard pass cause it seemed sleazy, like a total dick move, y'know. Didn’t seem right to mess with her like that and I don't think I even could if my life depended on it-”
Fuck, this hurt worse than you had ever imagined. A dagger shoved deep between your ribs with every word, twisting until you thought you’d be sick with it.
'Eddie.” You repeated, only a little stronger this time. but to your horror, you could hear the painful edge that made your voice shake.
You wanted to slam a hand over his mouth.
You wanted to crawl as far away from his touch as you possibly could.
And yet you were painfully still.
A statue in Eddie’s lap, turned to stone like those poor souls you’d read about in a mythology book when you were a kid except here there was no terrifying creature to blame, just your best friend who was breaking your heart without even realising.
Oblivious to a tear that welled and spilled over your lash line, dripping onto the shirt that you were suddenly wishing wasn’t his as he pressed on.
God, you felt pathetic.
"Felt wrong just thinking about it,” He rushed out and maybe if you weren’t so upset you would have put it together. The way he was rambling like he couldn’t speak quick enough, like he would lose his nerve if he didn't, lungs burning and eyes darting over your face, anxious, as if his heart would give out if he looked away for even a second. Fingers tapping too quick on your thighs. “Touching someone, kissing them, loving them, even if it’s pretend, shit I can’t even remember the last time I thought of doin’ those kind of things with anyone else that wasn’t-”
“Wasn’t her,” You interrupted, head ducked to hide your embarrassment when the words slipped out scathing, a little more heated than you intended. The burn behind your eyes grew stronger as you tried to climb off him, numb fingers clumsy, grappling for purchase on his stomach so you could push yourself away. “I get it Eddie, fuck-”
He stopped you with hesitant hands wrapping around your wrists, squeezing soft when you didn’t immediately try to yank yourself out of his hold, drawing them to his chest in a plea for you to look at him and listen.
"-you.”
You froze, head snapping up to stare at the boy in disbelief, utterly stunned. Your heart spasming before it began to pound so hard you thought it would splinter bones as you tried to figure out if you had heard him right, if he had said what you thought he had, if you dared to ask him to repeat himself just in case he had.
It felt like the world had slowed for a moment, like it was trying to give you a chance to push past the rush of blood in your ears that was drowning your ability to think straight, to decide whether Eddie had misspoken or not and if he hadn't, did that mean it was finally time for you to stop hiding.
Did you even know how?
The answer came when the winds outside grew into a storm. The patpatpat of rain on the roof coming slowly at first and then all at once and each knock of a branch at your window sounded like the tick of a clock as the silence between you rolled on too long. It felt like a countdown, a warning that if you weren’t going to be brave now, you wouldn’t get the chance again.
So you fought the urge to rip yourself away, lowered yourself gingerly back down onto his thighs whilst Eddie watched you with wide eyes, a little hopeful, a little terrified, a little too aware that any wrong move could make you run for real next time. “Did you– what did you just say?”
"Wasn’t you.” He whispered and neither of you could take your eyes off the other, your own breath trapped in your chest as he took a deep breath before he continued. Voice growing braver like it was an obvious truth he was telling you and not one that felt like a bomb being dropped on your head. “I haven’t thought about anyone else since I realised I was in love with you.”
You inhaled sharply, a small noise slipping from your throat that you couldn’t stop if you tried.
You wanted to ask him to say it again, you wanted to kiss the words from his mouth as he said them, you wanted to say it back, murmur it over and over into him until you were dizzy from lack of oxygen but you couldn’t. Because there were tears in your eyes and your throat, your lungs, were refusing to work, every part of your body suddenly paralysed whilst your heart tumbled wild behind your ribs.
Eddie licked his lips, parted and closed them again as tried to organise the mess of his thoughts into words.
He sat up and pulled you closer until your hips were flush, your thighs caged around his as he gently ran his thumbs up over the soft part of your wrists where your pulse hammered against the skin and you wondered if it was a gesture meant to soothe you or him.
If it was maybe for both of you.
A way to encourage you to touch him in whatever way you needed whilst he did the same, preparing himself to give a confession that he never thought he would get a chance to, that he hoped you would understand.
"I only asked Sam out because I thought you were never gonna feel the same and I just needed to get over it, ” He sighed, cheeks pink as he nervously analysed your expression from beneath his lashes. “Turns out she knew all along, figured out I was gonner that night at the hideout when you made me sing fuckin’ Bon Jovi.”
He said it teasingly, all false betrayal and shining eyes like you’d made him commit the worst kind of crime, like he was so in love with you that he’d sing that fucking song until his throat was raw if you asked again.
You let out a watery laugh and Eddie beamed at the sound.
His gaze lovely as it roamed your face, endlessly adoring when you swiped at a falling tear with the heel of your palm and melted because the boy had caught your hand in his before you could drop it, bringing it to his lips so he could kiss away the salt on your skin with a sweet tsk, voice like honey as he murmured, ‘c’mon, pretty girl, please don’t cry’.
"I couldn’t even deny it when she brought it up, y’know,” he chuckled, leaning in to rest his forehead to yours, noses grazing until you sighed happily for him. “She wasn’t mad either, just told me I needed to grow a pair and tell you how I felt before someone else did, but it was like she’d fuckin’ me in punched me in the face. All I could think was, ‘shit, she’s right, what the hell am I doing’ .”
And then his smile faltered. His stare flickering away from yours like he was ashamed, lips twisting into a grimace, voice strained as his hands slid down your arms and dropped to the hem of your shirt to twist the material in his fingers.
"Thing is, it sounded like the easiest thing in the world when she said it, but then I was about to leave and it suddenly felt terrifying and the idea of calming my nerves with a drink didn’t sound like the dumbest one I’ve ever had.” Eddie admitted, closing his eyes briefly and when he opened them again the disappointment in them made your heart ache.
“Not until I started hesitating the longer I was there anyway, overthinking and talking myself out of it, and then before I knew it I was wasted and I’d fucked up another chance to tell you. So I called Harrington instead, though I guess that kind of backfired too, huh?”
He was making it sound like it was all his fault that this had gone on so long but god, you knew what your own fear felt like. The things you told yourself daily to stop you from taking that plunge.
Had you both been using the same insecurities to hold yourselves back all this time?
"What were you so scared of? ” You coaxed softly, pressing a hand over the place where his heart thumped beneath the skin, fingertips toying with the chain that hung around his neck and when you’re other hand smoothed it’s way up to his jaw, thumb gliding along the edge of it, the boy leaned into your touch like he was starved for it. A ragged sigh slipping past his lips as his lashes fluttered.
"Messing everything up.” He explained quietly and the crack in his voice made you want to wrap your arms around him and smother him in affection. Refuse to let him go or ever doubt himself again. “Losing you. I didn’t know if you’d hate me for making things awkward if you didn’t feel the same and I couldn’t handle the thought of not having you in my life.”
"You could never do anything to make me not be in your life Eddie,” you told him, and if your words were soft then the look in your eyes was even softer. Lips pulling into a warm smile that he swore was pure light as your hand left his chest to tug teasingly at one of his curls. “Even if it’s something like turning up at my door, half gone, smelling like you’ve been dunked in whiskey, to tell me something that I’ve been waiting a hell of a long time to hear from you.”
Eddie melted for you then.
“Yeah?” He breathed, his own grin blinding as his hands nudged their way beneath your shirt to curve around your bare sides, seeking out the warmth of you to ground himself because he could have sworn he was dreaming.
"Yeah.”
“Well shit, sweetheart,” he huffed out a soft laugh, a little giddy with relief, more drunk on you than whatever alcohol was left in his system. “If I’d known that I would have made Stevie boy haul my drunk ass over here a lot sooner. You have any idea how long I’ve had to suffer mourning about my feelings to him after one of his house parties for him to just tell me to shut the fuck up and go to sleep?”
Probably the same amount of time you’d endured Robin telling you to get a grip.
"No, but I’m sure Steve would gladly tell me if I asked,” you answered cheekily instead, letting out a terrible shriek of a laugh when the boy tickled your ribs and muttered that you better not dare.
It made him grin all stupid and lovesick, even more so when you bumped your nose against his and looked at him a little shy, a little hopeful as you asked, “Though maybe you could try voicing some of those feelings without the alcohol, y’know, just so I know they’re not a result of your brain being fried and so that when I say them back, you actually have a chance of remembering it in the morning.”
Eddie was enthusiastically nodding before you could finish, a brightness unfurling in his chest like the flowers that had snaked around his ribs when he met you were now opening up, blooming with what he felt for you. What you felt for him back. “Yeah, fuck, I can do that,” he murmured. “Anything you want.”
You were beaming, and if he could bottle the way it made him feel he would. Gone for the way you melted for him when he slipped a hand from beneath your shirt, dragging it slow up your spine until his palm was fitting itself around the back of your neck, just so he could feel you this close. Just because he could.
"Anything?” You repeated coyly, smiling when he sighed real pretty as you brushed some of his curls back.
“Anything.”
"You gonna take me on a date Munson?”
As if he was going to say no to you. Like he ever could.
He’d bring you the damn moon if you wanted it. The stars too because he wouldn’t be able to help himself when it came to you.
He pressed his nose to your cheek to hide the dopey grin that tugged at his lips, humming. “Mhm, how does tomorrow sound? Maybe upgrade our plans from grovelling duty to first date?”
“Hmm, I don’t know,” you pondered, eyes fluttering shut with a smile, content to tease the boy by pretending to think about it as you tilted your head back for him when he pushed his face into your neck with an amused huff. “I kind of liked the idea of you grovelling all day and the plans you made were pretty tempting. What will the upgrade entail if I agree?”
“Same plans, I’d just get to keep touching you like this, hold you whenever I wanted, whenever you wanted me to.” He murmured, lips catching at your skin as he spoke, the hand that was clamped around your waist tightening when you shivered as he drew a line with his nose up to your jaw. “Maybe walk around with my hand in your back pocket the way I know you think is real cute. Use it to pull you in for a kiss when you’re looking far too pretty to be real, which is fuckin’ always, and I feel like m’gonna die if I don’t.”
Your chest hitched, lips parted and body feeling a touch too warm, because the thought of Eddie kissing you all greedy, a little too desperate to give a damn about where you were or who was around, was suddenly so consuming. Leaving you dizzy enough that you had to clutch at his shoulders, his neck, curling your fingers around his chain to keep yourself seated instead of falling back into the cushions and pulling him down with you. “Oh.” You breathed out.
He swallowed, hard.
And when he lifted his head his eyes were half-lidded, almost black beneath the heavy fan of his lashes, voice a low rasp that made you burn as his gaze flickered from your mouth to settle on yours. “Yeah, oh. ”
"How am I supposed to say no to that?”
His lips twitched. “Now you know how it feels when you ask me for anything.” He whispered hoarsely and you wondered if he could hear the chaotic hammering of your heart, if he could feel the vibration of it slamming into your ribs against his own.
The air between you was buzzing, electric, bloated with anticipation when the last couple of inches fell away as his face leaned closer to yours, mouth hovering over your own. his breath warm and smelling of smoke and whiskey, a hint of mint as he said your name, sticky sweet with heat and a longing kind of need.
He drew lazy circles under your ear with his thumb and it took everything you had not to let the pleading noise building in your throat escape.
"Yeah, Eddie?” You asked instead, so quiet that had he not been right there, you doubt he would have heard you at all.
You knew he had though when his tongue darted out to wet his lips, a nervous gesture just like the way your fingers couldn’t stop their movements, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck and making him shudder.
"Can I kiss you now?”
It already felt like he was.
His mouth brushing yours as he spoke, each word the ghost of a kiss, a brief taste of the real thing that you were sure would shatter you entirely because jesus christ, this alone was making you feel like there were fireworks beneath your skin. The way your bottom lip caught between his stole your breath, a cracked noise bubbling up in your throat that Eddie inhaled and echoed back with a groan when you tilted your head and pushed your lips to his.
It was a fleeting thing, ending after a second because your brain had caught up and was telling you this wasn’t right. Not that kissing Eddie wasn’t right, it felt like the most natural thing you’d ever done, like you’d found a piece of yourself you hadn’t realised you were missing.
It was just the timing.
“Wait…” You murmured and Eddie drew back immediately, the hand that had been clasped around your neck pulling back to tuck your hair behind your ear, cupping your jaw as his worried gaze flicked over your face, searching for any sign of discomfort he might have caused.
"Shit, I’m sorry.” He said gently, thick with guilt, full of concern. “Was it too soon? I swear I didn’t mean to pressure you or anything, fuck, sweetheart, I’d never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable y’know that right? And if I do by accident I want you to tell me or hell, punch me or something- ”
“-No, no, it’s okay Eds - Eddie listen, I’m not gonna hit you, jesus - I just,” You couldn’t get the words out fast enough for the way the look on his face was making your chest squeeze. Your hands flew to his face as you shook your head, stroking your thumbs over the arc of his cheekbones to quiet him whilst you gave him a reassuring smile. “I just don’t want our first real kiss to be when one of us is drunk, that's all. Is that okay?”
He blew out a breath, visibly softening, and then he was wrapping his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your nose, your cheeks, your forehead until you were both grinning, laughter still echoing above the sounds of the storm outside when he touched his forehead to yours. “Baby, of course it’s okay,” he murmured, “you just say the word, I’ll kiss you whenever you want me too.”
His words lit you up, warmth spreading through you until you were giddy with it. So full of affection for the boy that you thought you’d burst and it must have been contagious because Eddie was looking at you like he knew exactly what you were feeling.
"Kiss me tomorrow?” You whispered, unable to bite back your grin as you brushed your nose against his. “When I first wake up so I don’t think I’ve dreamed this whole thing?”
Eddie’s eyes shone and he squeezed you a little tighter, his smile becoming devastatingly lovely, stretching wide across his face as he nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”
Nervous Eddie, protective reader, and a drunk love confession. Idiots who are too dumb to realise their feelings are reciprocated. 9.4K of tooth rotting friends to lovers fluff. [Re-uploaded from my old blog]
Even when it was Valentine's day it wasn’t all that surprising to open your door to a random knock and find Eddie Munson staring back at you.
He was your best friend after all.
What was surprising however, was to open your door at nearly midnight, bleary eyed and more than a little bit annoyed, to a sheepish looking Steve Harrington.
His usually perfect hair was in wild disarray from the winter winds still sweeping through Hawkins and there was a hesitant smile on his face, all boyish charm and sweetness, like he was already intent on persuading you to forgive him before you even knew why.
But then you had taken a closer look, letting the light from inside spill out onto the porch to reveal that Steve wasn’t alone. Appearing to be struggling with a rather drunk Eddie, arms straining, looped around the longer haired boy who instead of being on the ‘hot date’ he’d been rambling about having all week, was half asleep, swaying back and forth into his friend’s side.
"He called me to come get him but when I got there he wouldn’t stop asking for you.” Steve explained before you had the chance to ask, grumbling good naturedly. “Didn’t wanna drop him off home and risk him having the genius idea of trying to get here himself, s’that okay?”
You nodded in response, still a little confused but you couldn’t stop yourself from softening. Chest warming as you mumbled a quick ‘of course’ and tried to bite back the laugh that was threatening to bubble up at the way Eddie was trying to use Steve like some kind of pillow.
The wild mess of his curls spilling down to cover his face as his head fell to the other boy’s shoulder with a quiet groan, ringed fingers curling into the fabric of Steve’s jumper and voice rough as he grumbled your name again, again, again.
"Yeah, she's here, man." Steve chuckled, his tone surprisingly gentle, a fond type of exasperated as he nudged his shoulder into the rosy squish of Eddie's cheek. "You wanna wake up now so you can actually see her?"
To your surprise he actually listened.
His head snapping up quicker than you anticipated, curls bouncing with the movement and brown eyes a touch glazed over, just that little bit unfocused, before they locked on you and then his mouth split into a blinding grin. The kind that made his whole face light up and your heart flip all too wild behind your ribs.
"There’s my pretty girl." He cooed loudly and you heard Steve snort, something that sounded an awful lot like ‘very smooth Munson, jesus christ’ muttered under his breath whilst he fought to remain upright against the weight of Eddie leaning his entire body in your direction.
You did laugh then.
A bright, flustered thing that you were unable to resist any longer, along with the way your arms opened on reflex to wrap around the boy when he finally managed to break free of his friend’s hold. His hands batting furiously at Steve’s as he twisted away, and only stumbled slightly in his determination to swoop you up into hug that was all leather, cheap beer and the smoky bite of whiskey - weed and the spice of his shampoo where his hair tickled at your nose.
"Hey sweets.” He whispered, humming happily as he pushed a messy kiss to your hairline.
God, why did that make you want to melt.
“Hey Eddie, you okay?” You asked softly, one hand rubbing gentle circles on his back and the other reaching up to cradle the back of his head.
It made him snuggle into you further, ducking down so he could press his face into the warm crook of your neck as his arms tightened and you prayed he was too drunk to notice the way your pulse thrummed faster when he spoke, soft lips brushing against sensitive skin.
"‘Am now.”
You froze for just a second, lips parted, blinking once, twice, just to make sure you had really heard what you thought you had and when it did fully register you wondered if the heat radiating off your cheeks was as obvious as it felt.
A quick glance at Steve told you it was.
Your friend was looking at you and Eddie all huddled together with an endless amount of amusement and affection, eyes twinkling as he grinned, shining like there was something he knew that you didn’t.
"Okay then, that’s good I guess,” You croaked out, voice a little too affected for your liking, coughing slightly in attempt to cover the sudden shyness you felt before you told the other boy. “I better get him to bed before he falls asleep standing up.”
Steve chuckled at that. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” He added, snorting at the ‘hey, screw you Harrington, it was one time’ that sounded from the metalhead still needily curling himself around you. “You need a hand hauling his ass upstairs?”
You considered it but then the poor Steve was desperately trying to fight a vicious yawn and failing, his eyes tired despite the way they crinkled as he smiled when you gave him a mothering look and made a shooing motion with the hand that wasn’t still making gentle strokes down Eddie’s back.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got him, go get some sleep, yeah? And thank you for bringing him.”
He hesitated but ultimately didn’t argue and you waved him goodbye as he drove away before shutting the door. Turning your full attention to your best friend who had slowly become suspiciously heavier, arms loosely folded around your waist and hands still, where only moments before they’d been trailing patterns along your spine.
"Eddie?”
Nothing.
“Eds?” You tried again and when there was no response a second time your eyes narrowed, suspicious.
The boy remained limp as your hands snuck past denim and leather, his breathing light and even whilst your fingers crept up his vest covered sides until you met torn fabric and then smooth, warm skin.
You let them rest there just a moment, waiting, and when he made no move to give up the pretence of sleep that you suspected, you dug them in a little firmer, tickling across his ribs until you heard a choked laugh and felt the stretch of his grin against your neck.
"Just let me sleep here, m’comfy.” He whined when you took to the task with more enthusiasm, snickering as he protested. But he was still laughing as he jerked and thrashed, dramatic as ever, and then threw himself out of your arms, cheeks flushed with it and dimples showing despite the glare he attempted to pin you with, snapping. “Fuckin’ devil woman, give me peace.”
There was no heat behind it and you smiled sweetly in return,reaching over to poke him in the cheek before pointing in the direction of the staircase. “I’ll give you peace Munson when you get your ass upstairs so we can go to bed.”
He raised his brows at the demand, dark eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Are you trying to seduce me sweetheart? Do I need to call Steve to come back and protect my virtue, save my poor innocent soul from being snatched by a temptress?” Eddie asked playfully, all faux horror and scandalised expression, a hand pressed to his heart as he choked down a bark of laughter at the way you stared at him, incredulous.
"Jesus christ.”
"No, I’m Eddie, remember? If you’re tryin’ to seduce a man at least get his name right, babe.”
You threw your arms up in the air, let out a long-suffering groan whilst the boy cackled and then you were marching towards him, fingers twisting in denim as you shoved him in front of you and walked him in the direction of the stairs and to your room.
"Shit, okay, I’m going.” He yelped, sniggering when he heard you grumbling behind him as he deliberately leaned his full weight back into the press of your hand and tsked, voice full of tease. “So fuckin’ pushy, you're lucky the whole bossy thing works on me.”
There was a familiar routine to the way you entered your bedroom, the kind that developed after countless nights of Eddie deciding it was too late to drive home despite the journey only being five minutes, of you both refusing to let the other take the couch that very first time until you eventually agreed, with shy smiles and faux nonchalant shrugs, that it was no big deal if you just shared the bed.
Friends totally did that, right?
It happened enough that he claimed a side and a drawer, that tapes and other trinkets of his littered the tops of your dressers, mixing with yours, and you’d even bought an ashtray and a spare lighter especially for the bedside table on his side.
And it happened enough for it to be second nature for Eddie to veer left and you right, clumsily kicking his shoes off before he fell into the bed with a contended groan and turning just time in to catch the old, faded sweats he left the last time he stayed that you threw before they could slap him in the face.
"You smell like a brewery Eds, don’t even think of getting in that bed until you’ve changed.”
"Mean.” He groaned but he hauled himself back up and did as you asked, shrugging off denim and leather in one go until all he was left in was tight, black jeans and a slashed up vest that showed more tattoos and bare skin than it possibly hid. His silver chain glinting prettily where it lay against his collarbones.
And oh fuck, you were staring.
Despite the fear that prickled at your skin at the thought of being caught, it felt impossible not to.
Because Eddie had always been far too pretty, a heartbreaking kind of gorgeous really, and if that wasn’t distracting enough, then the way his muscles moved as he yanked the vest over his head before dropping his hands to his belt certainly was.
You swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry when you realised your eyes had followed, fixed on the flex of his hands, and you couldn’t stop from wondering if they’d look just as perfect dragging up your bare waist, gripping at your thighs. Maybe circling your neck, cupping your chin, rings glittering in the low lamplight, before his lips descended on yours.
Jesus.
You wrenched your gaze away, fully intending it to land somewhere more decent. Somewhere that wasn’t your best friend and where it couldn’t ruin that easy bond you’d always had with the boy by giving all your secrets away.
But it felt like there was some kind of higher power at play, some hand of fate kind of bullshit that brought it straight back to Eddie, to his eyes that were already watching you, darker than usual and more than a little wild.
It made your breath catch in your chest. Cheeks flaming with heat, heart slamming against your ribs hard enough you thought your bones might shatter, and god, could he hear it?
You already knew by the look on his face that Eddie had seen every single second of your staring, that he’d been able to guess every little thought that swam through your mind and revealed themselves in the brief flash of want in your expression before you could shove it back down.
You just hadn’t noticed him doing the same.
Gaze lingering on his shirt that you were wrapped up in, the way the hem was as long as the length of your sleep shorts and made it seem like you were wearing nothing else, the way it made you look too soft, too enticing, too much like you were his and when his eyes flicked back up to yours he looked at you like you were something dangerous.
Like you were making him want something he shouldn’t ask for, or at least, didn’t think he could.
You licked your lips, a nervous sweep of your tongue as the air in the room seemed to thicken, and his gaze followed the movement hungrily as if he wished it was his mouth sliding over them instead.
But then the wind was howling, branches smacking and scraping at your window, the sound bringing reality crashing back in and making you both flinch.
Eddie’s cheeks were pink and his lips parted, a strangled noise slipping past them as he tried to speak and stumbled and suddenly you couldn’t look at him. Eyes snapping shut and mortification burning in your throat as you spun round before you could make an even bigger mistake than you already had, because what the hell were you doing?
What were you thinking?
This was Eddie.
Eddie, who you swore to never let your feelings for ruin your friendship.
Eddie, who you were convinced was still very much drunk and you very much weren’t.
It felt wrong.
It felt like you were begging to have your feelings hurt when the boy became clear headed enough to realise that the person he was looking at like he wanted to push them down onto the bed and devour, happened to be his best friend and inevitably freaked the fuck out.
He had just come back from a date with someone else after all, a date that he would have never thought to ask you on and despite the fact that you suspected it must not have gone well given his current state, it didn’t really make you feel any better or lessen the sting of jealousy that felt like barbed wire snaking through your ribs.
You continued to face the wall as he changed, cheeks still burning, stained with heat. But your gaze was unfocused as it flickered over lines of polaroids, fairy lights and old ticket stubs that you’d refused to throw away and used as decoration, your mind far too aware of the sound of his belt being unbuckled, the chains on his jeans clinking quietly before the denim hit the floor with a soft thud.
The silence that spread through the room after felt overwhelming, like it amplified every little movement either one of you made, the breaths you both took that made your chests fall a little too quick, a little uneven still, and when Eddie finally cleared his throat you tensed at the way it broke the quiet so harshly it felt like he’d made the noise directly in your ear.
"It’s okay - if you wanna turn around now, I mean.” He muttered softly.
It still felt like too much to look at him.
Maybe even more now because all you could see out of the corner of your eye before you walked towards the little lamp on your desk was messy hair and bare skin, sweats slung low on his hips. Big, brown eyes that seemed to be pleading with you to meet their stare and melt back into your usual softness with him like nothing had happened.
You couldn’t.
Not yet.
So you flicked the light off whilst the boy sighed and slipped beneath the covers, shoving his face into a pillow that smelled faintly like you as he squeezed his eyes shut before they flashed open again when he heard your approaching footsteps.
Eddie swallowed as you drifted close, throat bobbing when the air between you seemed to hum again once there was less of it as you reached above him to draw the curtains tighter, knowing how much the boy hated any hint of sunlight first thing in the morning.
There were nerves all lit up inside him that he hadn’t been able to shake all night, fondness fizzing in his chest when he heard the sound of the unopened bottle of water you’d brought up for yourself being set down next to the pile of his rings. The rattle of painkillers being plucked from the draw following before you moved around the bed and pulled back the sheets to climb in beside him.
He couldn’t help but hate what felt like an ocean of cool sheets that you deliberately left between you.
Hated that you didn’t push into his side and press your legs to his to steal his heat like you usually did, hated the way you lay stiff with tension in your own bed, facing the ceiling he had helped you paint one summer instead of facing him like you would when you would whisper with him, nose to nose, until the sun came up.
And when you did finally turn, a soft frown on your face as you wriggled to find a more comfortable position, he hated that your eyes widened slightly with panic when you finally noticed he was watching you.
It made his brows pull together in a distressed frown - his throat tight with guilt when you quickly glanced down at your hands that were knotting in the bed sheets.
An anxious habit he despised being the cause of because god, the last thing Eddie had ever wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable because he couldn’t keep his own feelings in check.
For the longest time he looked at you like he wanted to say something, working his jaw like he wanted to address what had happened and apologise but couldn’t find the right words, his eyes soft and sad in the pale slip of moonlight from the window.
And then he seemed to think better of it.
You were caught off guard when he smiled instead. A soft grin that was all easy warmth and a touch playful as he reached to poke a finger to your cheek and whispered, “thanks for taking care of me, sweets.”
You huffed out a laugh like you couldn't help yourself and the boy took it as small progress when you visibly relaxed. Taking the opportunity to get more and more dramatic with his prodding and tickling until he could feel the way your body vibrated with the giggles bubbling up from your chest and you’d allowed yourself to sink fully into the bed, rolling closer as you tried to fend him off.
"Someone has to make sure you’ll be alive enough to take us for breakfast in the morning.” You whispered back sternly when your face re-emerged from its hiding place in the mattress.
But your smile was matching Eddie’s, growing wider when he caught the hand you tried to bat his away with and gently pinched at your fingers.
"So you’re only being nice so you can use me.” He gasped theatrically and propped himself up on an elbow to stare down at you, all over the top stricken expression as he stifled a laugh when you shoved your face into the pillow and groaned. “How could my best friend betray me like this?”
You turned your head back to face him, rolling your eyes before levelling him with a thoughtful stare. “I wouldn’t call it using,” you mused, slipping your arm under your pillow and beneath your head as you yawned, “more like cashing in straight away on a debt, y’know, since you woke me up in the middle of the night. Which, as my best friend, you’ll remember makes me very grumpy in the morning.”
Eddie nodded, bangs falling into his eyes as he did so. He was serious for all of a second before he let himself fall back into the mused sheet with a guilty grin, hair spilling everywhere and the movement making your body lean into the dip he created, suddenly closer to the boy than before.
"Touche.”
The word came out in a small huff that you felt it against your cheek, a soft thing that made your lashes flutter and when you glanced up at him you found him looking at you with gentle eyes, all brown sugar sweet and lovely as he smiled, full of affection.
It made the last of the left-over tension fizzle away, turning the air softer, warmer, as Eddie drew lines along your fingers with his own before he slotted them together.
You hadn’t even realised he was still holding your hand.
"You win, babe,” He murmured, almost too quiet to hear, his thumb rubbing slow against your skin, touch worshipful as he traced the faint scar on your hand that was proof monsters were never simply just part of stories, and if he noticed the way you inhaled a little shakily, well, he did his best not to show it.
“I’ll do anything you want, maybe take you to that bakery you like and buy you coffee so you’ll stop hissing at me and then so many of those cinnamon things that like that you’ll go into a sugar coma and I’ll have to carry you out.”
You snorted and Eddie beamed like he’d hit the jackpot, encouraged by the sound as he arched a brow like he was begging you to argue.
"Idon’t hiss.” You muttered petulantly, full of false indignation whilst you scrunched your nose to hide your grin and knocked your knee against his.
His gaze shone at you, eyes bright and twinkling with mirth in the dark, and when he managed to fend off your attack by hooking a leg over yours to trap it between his own, he continued with a teasing scoff.
“You do. You’re like some kind of rabid raccoon when you wake up, I’m lucky I still have both eyes and all my fingers.” He wiggled the ones resting snug around yours for emphasis and you snorted. “Now shut up, I’m trying to impress you with my plan to get back in your good graces.”
You huffed, too amused to be offended, and gestured with your linked hands as if to say ‘well go on then’
Okay, so after I’ve carried you out of the bakery, we’d go to the bookstore,” the boy told you, gaze knowing and smile a little smug when he noticed that he’d caught your attention despite the way you tried to hide it from him.
"Always a pretty foolproof plan - which one though?”
“Not the fancy one where the housewives hog the couches pretending to talk about their weekly book club read,” Eddie assured you, his voice dropping to a scandalised hush, the fingers that weren’t holding yours tugging at his curls to hide a salacious grin as he whispered, “when instead they’re bitching about how their husbands don’t satisfy them anymore and how they’ve had to resort to fucking the pool boy so they can feel young again.”
"Of course,” You choked on a laugh, a startled, delighted sound that made Eddie’s heart stutter and his chest ache with warmth. “Can’t have them cheapening the wholesome moment when I’m overcome with the joy of being surrounded by books and finally forgive you.”
"Exactly.” He replied sagely. “So we’re gonna go to that one near Oak instead with the shit ton of stacks everywhere that threaten to fall and crush you if you breathe near them. Works better in my favour if I get to save you from a gruesome death.”
You nodded, only looking half as serious as Eddie thanks to the way you could barely stop the threat of giggles rising in your throat. “I get it, totally get extra brownie points for a hero moment.”
"Right? And then maybe I’ll get you one of the books you stare at all longingly everytime we go in 'cause for some reason you act like it’s a fuckin’ crime to treat yourself once in a while-”
"-I do not! I just have other things that kind of have to take priority, y’know like bills and stuff. ”
"Same thing.” Eddie dismissed, but his voice was softly teasing and his gaze understanding as he fingers tapped a random beat against your hand. “Anyway, after that we’ll rent some movies and get some snacks, maybe horrors so I can be all charming and let you hold my hand when it gets scary, we’ll get pizza for dinner and by the end of it you’ll have totally forgot that I crashed your romantic night with yourself and ruined your sleep.”
You stared at him. “And that’s all it’s gonna take, huh?”
"Don’t pretend you’re not impressed, sweetheart.” He grinned knowingly, looking too proud of himself as his hand slipped out of yours to prod a finger to where your cheeks were appled, aching from smiling far too long.
He wished he could kiss them instead, brush his lips over the pretty flush that bloomed after his touch made you realise you never really had stopped smiling from the moment he started speaking. “Look at you, just dyin’ to forgive me right now, I can tell.”
You hated that he was right.
Not about you dying to forgive him now, because the truth was Eddie hadn’t actually done anything to need forgiveness, no, it was the fact that if you were ever genuinely mad and the boy did all that for you, you knew in your bones you would fold in a pathetic, lovesick heartbeat.
It was the fact that Eddie knew it too, he just hadn’t figured out why.
Yet.
So you swatted at him once again and tried to discreetly shuffle back whilst he was distracted threatening to snap his teeth down on your fingers.
You were praying for some distance, needed it so you could breathe without the scent of him making you feel weak, so you could hide in the dark for the moment it would take to stop looking at him like he’d shoved his hand inside your chest, wrapped long fingers around your heart and slipped it out to put it where it belonged. With him.
But your legs were still tangled with Eddie’s and your body was against you when he clamped his legs down to stop you from slipping away. Turned traitor by the feel of soft fleece pressing to your bare calves, the muscles of his arms flexing when he threw one over your waist and pushed the other one beneath you to roll you on top of him.
His biceps were warm where you caught at him with your hands to steady yourself and as he shifted a little higher up the pillow, stretching until he found himself comfortable, you cursed the warmth it spread through your belly.
"See, you can’t even deny it can you?” Eddie prompted and you felt it rumble from his chest to your own, chin dipped to peer down at you and cheeks dimpling as his grin turned smug. Unbelievably delighted that you had yet to refute him.
You wrinkled your nose when he tapped a finger there, if only to hide the shock that lingered on your face, the way you felt flushed all over because there was no part of you that wasn’t touching him and jesus christ, it felt like his hands resting on your sides were burning through the thin material of your shirt, threatening to brand the skin beneath.
“What, no– I mean yes– I mean, shit, you know what I mean asshole” You finished with a scowl and prayed your rambling had sounded less frantic to Eddie than it had to your own ears, though judging by the way he arched a brow at you, gaze dancing with withheld laughter, you would guess you had failed there too.
'Uh huh, but feel free to keep tryin’ to enlighten me anyway.”
"I was just wondering,” you began, all false confidence just to hide the fact you were still unsure of where you were going with it. Stalling just a little because it was hard to remember what you had been wondering before he had decided to use you as a blanket, your chest now lying atop his abdomen, stomach resting against his hips and legs cradled between his own.
You let go of his arms to fold your hands at the centre of his chest, settling your chin there, and his eyes softened as they roamed your face, waiting for you to continue. “Okay, so how does it make sense that you can pull off something like that and yet you’re here with me, drunk, instead of on your date swooning the hell out of Sarah?”
"Sam.”
“Same thing.”
“Not even close, sweetheart.”
“At least I got the first two letters right, unlike you with the last guy I dated.” You shot back.
Eddie shrugged. “He looked like a Danny.” He defended mildly but his gaze was playful, bottom lip tucked between his teeth to hold back the laugh threatening to escape when you threw a death glare his way.
“His name was Matthew.” You deadpanned and the boy snorted, throwing his hands up in a placating gesture when it looked like you might rip the pillow from beneath his head and smother him with it.
But then you were shaking your head instead, an accusatory finger jabbed to his chest and you rolled your eyes when he frowned and muttered a petulant ‘ow’.
“Hang on, why are we even arguing this again? Answer the question Munson - did you try to take her to skull rock again? ‘Cause I don’t give a damn what Steve says, just because you take a fucking picnic it doesn’t suddenly make a make out spot romantic”
He made a disturbed noise and shook his head but you didn’t miss the way his face fell a little at you bringing up the date again, smile half-hearted at best, and even the dark couldn’t hide the way his eyes had dimmed. His thumbs that had been dragging small, steady circles over the sides of your ribs faltering as he dropped his gaze from yours.
It made you gentle - the sense of protectiveness that tightened your chest and urged you to shuffle your way up his body until you were seated in his lap, knees dragging the sheets askew. Fingers finding their way to his chin to bring his stare back to you and you were too focused on your worry to register the way it made his lashes flutter, eyes hooded and lips parted, breath hitching at the gesture.
"Hey - did something happen tonight? Is that why you came back in such a state?” You murmured, eyes flicking between his, searching, before your tone suddenly grew sharp and your hand fell flat against his chest. “Was she a dick to you - I swear to god if she was I’ll get dressed right now and–”
You were cut off by Eddie’s hand descending over yours, the other landing on the thigh that you had already raised to clamber off him, squeezing the flesh softly, drawing it back down, and the fight left you just as fast as it had appeared when he chuckled, his voice smudged with fondness, awe, a hint of pride.
“Okay, reign it in Rocky, nothin’ bad happened I promise, you don’t need to go runnin’ off into the night to defend my honour.”
But god, he wanted to kiss you for trying to.
He settled for watching you watch him instead, your frown of concern that he itched to smooth away with his thumb still present before you eventually nodded, only slightly pacified when you had found no sign of a lie in the way he met your gaze.
And Eddie knew it was foolish to hope that was the end of it, knew the expression on your face all too well despite the way it flickered sweet just for a moment, just for him, as he released your hand to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.
So it came as no surprise to the boy when you seemed to be considering your next words as you tilted your head, whether to deliberately lean into his touch or just a habit whilst you thought he wasn’t sure.
Maybe it was coincidence or maybe it was both, either way when your hand followed his seconds after he had let it go to clasp gently at his wrist, his heart spasmed despite knowing what was coming.
"There was something though, wasn’t there? You stated but you were quiet in how you spoke, gentle, trying to make sure Eddie knew he wasn’t being pushed, that you were only concerned, and everything about it made him ache. His thoughts going a cotton-wool kind of hazy that he wasn’t convinced he could blame on the alcohol anymore.
He let his thumb brush the downturned corner of your lips, a brief second of indulgence before he pressed up, moulding your mouth into a smile until he spied it becoming a real one, the kind that would have had Eddie dropping to his knees if he’d been standing, as you knocked his hand away.
He tapped at your legs then, drumming lightly at the creases of your knees and up the backs of your thighs, making you twitch.
You got the hint though, rising off him just enough for him to push himself up and then back, leaning against the pillows before he held out his hands for you to take so you could climb back into his lap.
It felt like his first mistake.
Or was it his second, after coming here in the first place? Third, after losing his head and nearly kissing you?
He’d lost count.
All he knew was that it was suddenly a little harder to breathe, that being this close didn’t feel as innocent as it had five minutes ago.
As it had all the other times you’d been tucked tight against him, sleepily whispering secrets until dawn broke and your head fell heavy against his shoulder, leaving Eddie to have to carefully roll you back on to the mattress so you didn’t wake up stiff and sore.
Your hands were soft on his stomach, forcing the boy to fight off a shudder every time you traced the dark lines of another tattoo, jaw slack as he watched every little movement of your fingers with rapt attention, only realising he’d been repeating each one with his own touch on your thighs when he felt the brush of soft fabric against his fingertips.
It took Eddie a second to tear his eyes away from the sight, to meet your gaze with pink cheeks and lips almost bitten raw and find that you had swayed closer.
Close enough so that he could map each little freckle that made up constellations on your cheeks in the moonlight that slanted over your features, noses only inches apart and he swallowed down a choked curse when he remembered you were probably still expecting an answer.
He licked his lips, unsure of how much he could give away, and shrugged, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. "S’really nothin’ for you to worry about princess, the date was fine and she was… great - incredible actually - we just, uh, mutually decided there was a point in taking it past a one time thing.”
The silence stretched long enough that Eddie wondered if he was maybe more wasted than he'd thought. He must have been if the question of whether telling you the truth was really as bad as he'd feared was nudging at his brain, the consequences seeming a lot less daunting the longer allowed himself to consider it.
Because there you were, looking at him with the prettiest confused expression he'd ever seen and all of a sudden it felt like the worst crime in the world to lie to you. That you deserved more than the way he'd been continuously lying to you for years and if there was the slightest chance - which sometimes he thought there were signs there could be - that you wanted him to be the one who gave you more, then he had to take it, right?
"I don't understand,” you said slowly, face scrunched like you were trying to figure out if you missed something somewhere in his explanation, like you were trying to hide how the boy calling Sarah - Sam - whatever her name was - incredible in a dazed voice had made your stomach twist. "If she was so amazing and the date was a hit, why wouldn't you want to see her again?"
"Well turns out no matter how awesome a girl is, she doesn't really wanna waste time trying to date someone who's in love with someone else.”
"Makes sense-" you shrugged, and then it sunk in what he had said. "-no, wait, hang on - what?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled, a little shaky, a little rough, and despite the easy grin he tried to offer, there was an undeniable bloom of nervousness unfurling in his eyes, “crazy right? I mean I expected her to leave when she figured it out but then she stayed and even tried giving me advice, which maybe me taking wasn't the best decision 'cause it involved some liquid courage and telling the girl how I feel but I kinda took the first part too far, which is how I ended up like this– ”
He gestured wildly to himself and when his hands dropped back to rest on your bare thighs it took all you had not to flinch. Your brain felt fuzzy, chest too tight, and suddenly every part of your body that was pressed to his felt like it was in agony. A new kind of torture.
Eddie was in love with someone else.
And he hadn't even told you.
"Eddie–” you murmured weakly, because christ , he was still talking and you just really needed him to stop .
"-she originally offered to help make her jealous, which was fuckin' insane , I thought that shit only happened in movies. I gave it a hard pass cause it seemed sleazy, like a total dick move, y'know. Didn’t seem right to mess with her like that and I don't think I even could if my life depended on it-”
Fuck, this hurt worse than you had ever imagined. A dagger shoved deep between your ribs with every word, twisting until you thought you’d be sick with it.
'Eddie.” You repeated, only a little stronger this time. but to your horror, you could hear the painful edge that made your voice shake.
You wanted to slam a hand over his mouth.
You wanted to crawl as far away from his touch as you possibly could.
And yet you were painfully still.
A statue in Eddie’s lap, turned to stone like those poor souls you’d read about in a mythology book when you were a kid except here there was no terrifying creature to blame, just your best friend who was breaking your heart without even realising.
Oblivious to a tear that welled and spilled over your lash line, dripping onto the shirt that you were suddenly wishing wasn’t his as he pressed on.
God, you felt pathetic.
"Felt wrong just thinking about it,” He rushed out and maybe if you weren’t so upset you would have put it together. The way he was rambling like he couldn’t speak quick enough, like he would lose his nerve if he didn't, lungs burning and eyes darting over your face, anxious, as if his heart would give out if he looked away for even a second. Fingers tapping too quick on your thighs. “Touching someone, kissing them, loving them, even if it’s pretend, shit I can’t even remember the last time I thought of doin’ those kind of things with anyone else that wasn’t-”
“Wasn’t her,” You interrupted, head ducked to hide your embarrassment when the words slipped out scathing, a little more heated than you intended. The burn behind your eyes grew stronger as you tried to climb off him, numb fingers clumsy, grappling for purchase on his stomach so you could push yourself away. “I get it Eddie, fuck-”
He stopped you with hesitant hands wrapping around your wrists, squeezing soft when you didn’t immediately try to yank yourself out of his hold, drawing them to his chest in a plea for you to look at him and listen.
"-you.”
You froze, head snapping up to stare at the boy in disbelief, utterly stunned. Your heart spasming before it began to pound so hard you thought it would splinter bones as you tried to figure out if you had heard him right, if he had said what you thought he had, if you dared to ask him to repeat himself just in case he had.
It felt like the world had slowed for a moment, like it was trying to give you a chance to push past the rush of blood in your ears that was drowning your ability to think straight, to decide whether Eddie had misspoken or not and if he hadn't, did that mean it was finally time for you to stop hiding.
Did you even know how?
The answer came when the winds outside grew into a storm. The patpatpat of rain on the roof coming slowly at first and then all at once and each knock of a branch at your window sounded like the tick of a clock as the silence between you rolled on too long. It felt like a countdown, a warning that if you weren’t going to be brave now, you wouldn’t get the chance again.
So you fought the urge to rip yourself away, lowered yourself gingerly back down onto his thighs whilst Eddie watched you with wide eyes, a little hopeful, a little terrified, a little too aware that any wrong move could make you run for real next time. “Did you– what did you just say?”
"Wasn’t you.” He whispered and neither of you could take your eyes off the other, your own breath trapped in your chest as he took a deep breath before he continued. Voice growing braver like it was an obvious truth he was telling you and not one that felt like a bomb being dropped on your head. “I haven’t thought about anyone else since I realised I was in love with you.”
You inhaled sharply, a small noise slipping from your throat that you couldn’t stop if you tried.
You wanted to ask him to say it again, you wanted to kiss the words from his mouth as he said them, you wanted to say it back, murmur it over and over into him until you were dizzy from lack of oxygen but you couldn’t. Because there were tears in your eyes and your throat, your lungs, were refusing to work, every part of your body suddenly paralysed whilst your heart tumbled wild behind your ribs.
Eddie licked his lips, parted and closed them again as tried to organise the mess of his thoughts into words.
He sat up and pulled you closer until your hips were flush, your thighs caged around his as he gently ran his thumbs up over the soft part of your wrists where your pulse hammered against the skin and you wondered if it was a gesture meant to soothe you or him.
If it was maybe for both of you.
A way to encourage you to touch him in whatever way you needed whilst he did the same, preparing himself to give a confession that he never thought he would get a chance to, that he hoped you would understand.
"I only asked Sam out because I thought you were never gonna feel the same and I just needed to get over it, ” He sighed, cheeks pink as he nervously analysed your expression from beneath his lashes. “Turns out she knew all along, figured out I was gonner that night at the hideout when you made me sing fuckin’ Bon Jovi.”
He said it teasingly, all false betrayal and shining eyes like you’d made him commit the worst kind of crime, like he was so in love with you that he’d sing that fucking song until his throat was raw if you asked again.
You let out a watery laugh and Eddie beamed at the sound.
His gaze lovely as it roamed your face, endlessly adoring when you swiped at a falling tear with the heel of your palm and melted because the boy had caught your hand in his before you could drop it, bringing it to his lips so he could kiss away the salt on your skin with a sweet tsk, voice like honey as he murmured, ‘c’mon, pretty girl, please don’t cry’.
"I couldn’t even deny it when she brought it up, y’know,” he chuckled, leaning in to rest his forehead to yours, noses grazing until you sighed happily for him. “She wasn’t mad either, just told me I needed to grow a pair and tell you how I felt before someone else did, but it was like she’d fuckin’ me in punched me in the face. All I could think was, ‘shit, she’s right, what the hell am I doing’ .”
And then his smile faltered. His stare flickering away from yours like he was ashamed, lips twisting into a grimace, voice strained as his hands slid down your arms and dropped to the hem of your shirt to twist the material in his fingers.
"Thing is, it sounded like the easiest thing in the world when she said it, but then I was about to leave and it suddenly felt terrifying and the idea of calming my nerves with a drink didn’t sound like the dumbest one I’ve ever had.” Eddie admitted, closing his eyes briefly and when he opened them again the disappointment in them made your heart ache.
“Not until I started hesitating the longer I was there anyway, overthinking and talking myself out of it, and then before I knew it I was wasted and I’d fucked up another chance to tell you. So I called Harrington instead, though I guess that kind of backfired too, huh?”
He was making it sound like it was all his fault that this had gone on so long but god, you knew what your own fear felt like. The things you told yourself daily to stop you from taking that plunge.
Had you both been using the same insecurities to hold yourselves back all this time?
"What were you so scared of? ” You coaxed softly, pressing a hand over the place where his heart thumped beneath the skin, fingertips toying with the chain that hung around his neck and when you’re other hand smoothed it’s way up to his jaw, thumb gliding along the edge of it, the boy leaned into your touch like he was starved for it. A ragged sigh slipping past his lips as his lashes fluttered.
"Messing everything up.” He explained quietly and the crack in his voice made you want to wrap your arms around him and smother him in affection. Refuse to let him go or ever doubt himself again. “Losing you. I didn’t know if you’d hate me for making things awkward if you didn’t feel the same and I couldn’t handle the thought of not having you in my life.”
"You could never do anything to make me not be in your life Eddie,” you told him, and if your words were soft then the look in your eyes was even softer. Lips pulling into a warm smile that he swore was pure light as your hand left his chest to tug teasingly at one of his curls. “Even if it’s something like turning up at my door, half gone, smelling like you’ve been dunked in whiskey, to tell me something that I’ve been waiting a hell of a long time to hear from you.”
Eddie melted for you then.
“Yeah?” He breathed, his own grin blinding as his hands nudged their way beneath your shirt to curve around your bare sides, seeking out the warmth of you to ground himself because he could have sworn he was dreaming.
"Yeah.”
“Well shit, sweetheart,” he huffed out a soft laugh, a little giddy with relief, more drunk on you than whatever alcohol was left in his system. “If I’d known that I would have made Stevie boy haul my drunk ass over here a lot sooner. You have any idea how long I’ve had to suffer mourning about my feelings to him after one of his house parties for him to just tell me to shut the fuck up and go to sleep?”
Probably the same amount of time you’d endured Robin telling you to get a grip.
"No, but I’m sure Steve would gladly tell me if I asked,” you answered cheekily instead, letting out a terrible shriek of a laugh when the boy tickled your ribs and muttered that you better not dare.
It made him grin all stupid and lovesick, even more so when you bumped your nose against his and looked at him a little shy, a little hopeful as you asked, “Though maybe you could try voicing some of those feelings without the alcohol, y’know, just so I know they’re not a result of your brain being fried and so that when I say them back, you actually have a chance of remembering it in the morning.”
Eddie was enthusiastically nodding before you could finish, a brightness unfurling in his chest like the flowers that had snaked around his ribs when he met you were now opening up, blooming with what he felt for you. What you felt for him back. “Yeah, fuck, I can do that,” he murmured. “Anything you want.”
You were beaming, and if he could bottle the way it made him feel he would. Gone for the way you melted for him when he slipped a hand from beneath your shirt, dragging it slow up your spine until his palm was fitting itself around the back of your neck, just so he could feel you this close. Just because he could.
"Anything?” You repeated coyly, smiling when he sighed real pretty as you brushed some of his curls back.
“Anything.”
"You gonna take me on a date Munson?”
As if he was going to say no to you. Like he ever could.
He’d bring you the damn moon if you wanted it. The stars too because he wouldn’t be able to help himself when it came to you.
He pressed his nose to your cheek to hide the dopey grin that tugged at his lips, humming. “Mhm, how does tomorrow sound? Maybe upgrade our plans from grovelling duty to first date?”
“Hmm, I don’t know,” you pondered, eyes fluttering shut with a smile, content to tease the boy by pretending to think about it as you tilted your head back for him when he pushed his face into your neck with an amused huff. “I kind of liked the idea of you grovelling all day and the plans you made were pretty tempting. What will the upgrade entail if I agree?”
“Same plans, I’d just get to keep touching you like this, hold you whenever I wanted, whenever you wanted me to.” He murmured, lips catching at your skin as he spoke, the hand that was clamped around your waist tightening when you shivered as he drew a line with his nose up to your jaw. “Maybe walk around with my hand in your back pocket the way I know you think is real cute. Use it to pull you in for a kiss when you’re looking far too pretty to be real, which is fuckin’ always, and I feel like m’gonna die if I don’t.”
Your chest hitched, lips parted and body feeling a touch too warm, because the thought of Eddie kissing you all greedy, a little too desperate to give a damn about where you were or who was around, was suddenly so consuming. Leaving you dizzy enough that you had to clutch at his shoulders, his neck, curling your fingers around his chain to keep yourself seated instead of falling back into the cushions and pulling him down with you. “Oh.” You breathed out.
He swallowed, hard.
And when he lifted his head his eyes were half-lidded, almost black beneath the heavy fan of his lashes, voice a low rasp that made you burn as his gaze flickered from your mouth to settle on yours. “Yeah, oh. ”
"How am I supposed to say no to that?”
His lips twitched. “Now you know how it feels when you ask me for anything.” He whispered hoarsely and you wondered if he could hear the chaotic hammering of your heart, if he could feel the vibration of it slamming into your ribs against his own.
The air between you was buzzing, electric, bloated with anticipation when the last couple of inches fell away as his face leaned closer to yours, mouth hovering over your own. his breath warm and smelling of smoke and whiskey, a hint of mint as he said your name, sticky sweet with heat and a longing kind of need.
He drew lazy circles under your ear with his thumb and it took everything you had not to let the pleading noise building in your throat escape.
"Yeah, Eddie?” You asked instead, so quiet that had he not been right there, you doubt he would have heard you at all.
You knew he had though when his tongue darted out to wet his lips, a nervous gesture just like the way your fingers couldn’t stop their movements, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck and making him shudder.
"Can I kiss you now?”
It already felt like he was.
His mouth brushing yours as he spoke, each word the ghost of a kiss, a brief taste of the real thing that you were sure would shatter you entirely because jesus christ, this alone was making you feel like there were fireworks beneath your skin. The way your bottom lip caught between his stole your breath, a cracked noise bubbling up in your throat that Eddie inhaled and echoed back with a groan when you tilted your head and pushed your lips to his.
It was a fleeting thing, ending after a second because your brain had caught up and was telling you this wasn’t right. Not that kissing Eddie wasn’t right, it felt like the most natural thing you’d ever done, like you’d found a piece of yourself you hadn’t realised you were missing.
It was just the timing.
“Wait…” You murmured and Eddie drew back immediately, the hand that had been clasped around your neck pulling back to tuck your hair behind your ear, cupping your jaw as his worried gaze flicked over your face, searching for any sign of discomfort he might have caused.
"Shit, I’m sorry.” He said gently, thick with guilt, full of concern. “Was it too soon? I swear I didn’t mean to pressure you or anything, fuck, sweetheart, I’d never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable y’know that right? And if I do by accident I want you to tell me or hell, punch me or something- ”
“-No, no, it’s okay Eds - Eddie listen, I’m not gonna hit you, jesus - I just,” You couldn’t get the words out fast enough for the way the look on his face was making your chest squeeze. Your hands flew to his face as you shook your head, stroking your thumbs over the arc of his cheekbones to quiet him whilst you gave him a reassuring smile. “I just don’t want our first real kiss to be when one of us is drunk, that's all. Is that okay?”
He blew out a breath, visibly softening, and then he was wrapping his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your nose, your cheeks, your forehead until you were both grinning, laughter still echoing above the sounds of the storm outside when he touched his forehead to yours. “Baby, of course it’s okay,” he murmured, “you just say the word, I’ll kiss you whenever you want me too.”
His words lit you up, warmth spreading through you until you were giddy with it. So full of affection for the boy that you thought you’d burst and it must have been contagious because Eddie was looking at you like he knew exactly what you were feeling.
"Kiss me tomorrow?” You whispered, unable to bite back your grin as you brushed your nose against his. “When I first wake up so I don’t think I’ve dreamed this whole thing?”
Eddie’s eyes shone and he squeezed you a little tighter, his smile becoming devastatingly lovely, stretching wide across his face as he nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”
A yearly Halloween tradition, zombie films, and best friends who touch too much for it to not mean anything.
TO BE DRUNK AND IN LOVE
Nervous Eddie, protective reader, and a drunk love confession. Idiots who are too dumb to realise their feelings are reciprocated. Tooth rotting friends to lovers fluff.
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