I get lazy a lot with writing, so don’t expect my fics to be very long 😭🫶 some will probably be long on occasion if my brain decides to work.
My timetable is all over the place, and so is my mind, so there won’t be set times to when I post fics.
I am also autistic so any autism slander in the comments will be blocked (but on a side note I will write neurodivergent reader if anyone wants me to!!)
I used to only write wlw, however i am open to write men x fem!readers. I have never written nsfw content before, but I am open to trying it out. if I do write nsfw I would like men and minors to kindly piss off, thank you.
I will write for these characters (might add more in the future):
Abby Anderson (Tlou)
Ellie Williams (Tlou)
Dina Woodward (Tlou)
Vi (arcane)
Sevika (arcane)
Remmick (Sinners)
Peter parker (Tasm + mcu)
Bucky (mcu)
Yelena (mcu)
Eddie munson (Stranger things)
Steve harrington (stranger things)
Jonathan byers (stranger things)
I forgot to mention I’m British and I don’t really know the difference in time zones from here 😭👍 if I say I’m posting sm tonight it means British time
summary: eddie meets you at a house party not knowing why he was so drawn to you.
warnings: not proof read, intentional lower case, potential ooc eddie, cannon divergence, no upside down, potential gore? nsfw but no smut (sorry guys 💔), vampires obviously, a few uses of y/n (again sorryyyy), eddie calls reader pet names like sweetheart. some fluff, some angst.
authors note: okay this was a lot longer than i originally planned LMAO. it took me a while to write, and i really hope you enjoy it 😋🫶 (i may have also used a few quotes from interview with the vampire, this was heavily inspired by that!)
this fic has been edited, if you've read it before friday 24th 2026, then there have been some changes so feel free to reread!
wc: 4k
eddie hates parties like these. he hates them with a burning passion— bodies against bodies crammed to the brim, sticky floors, loud shitty pop music, it irks him. but still, he was here. gareth dragged him to the halloween party, saying it's his night to finally make a move on the girl he likes and that he needed his wingman.
eddie was getting annoyed by gareth constantly rambling on about the girl he met a few weeks ago. he was happy for him, but he was just so tired of hearing it. then gareth had the audacity to ditch him at the party to hookup with said girl.
he didn't really know why he stayed, maybe it was the free drinks, who knows. he just felt like there was another reason to be there, but he didn't know what or why.
he found himself back in the kitchen, only a few people in there. he was searching the fridge for a beer, when someone caught his eye. god, she was breathtaking. he had to stop himself from staring so he could close the fridge. he then walked over to the girl he'd never seen before.
"you new here?" he spoke. you didn't realise he was talking to you. you turned your head and your eyes looked with his. your heart jittered in your chest.
"huh? oh yeah, i moved a few days ago,” you smiled, fangs on full display.
"woah, either you're extremely committed to the bit or i should be running for the hills,” he joked, rubbing his neck with one hand with a chuckle.
"oh, yeah,” you chuckled. "i got them custom made, i quite like halloween." eddie watched as the words fell effortlessly from your lips. you sounded truthful, almost too truthful. he felt almost on edge and he wasn't sure why.
maybe the beer was just getting to him. surely.
"that's a pretty accent. where're you from, sweetheart?" he asked, leaning against the counter. you watched carefully as his chest rose and fell, and had to take in a breath yourself before talking.
"i'm from st malo in france." you responded kindly.
“well color me shocked, your english is fucking amazing." he chuckled, looking into your eyes. god, there was just something about your eyes.
"i've been in america for a while, just traveling around." you'd poured a glass of wine for yourself, but you weren't drinking it. eddie noticed, but decided not to comment on it.
"what's your name?" you asked after a beat of silence. you had to clear your voice to get his attention.
"oh- uh it's eddie. eddie munson. and you?" he answered, caught off guard from his distraction.
you tell him your name, and he repeated it back to you, trying it out on his own tongue. "pretty name,” he spoke. you thanked him respectfully.
an awkward silence fell between them, before you cleared your throat again. "well, uh, i'm gonna head to the bathroom, i'll see you around?" you spoke softly.
"yeah- yeah. i'll see you around sweetheart." he spoke, watching you leave the kitchen. it was only then he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
there was just something about you that he couldn't put his finger on, something that was alluring to him. he'd seen pretty girls before, and flirted with them before, but none had him as captivated as you did.
Eddie was back in the main room, finding a slightly secluded place in the corner near the hallway. he let the taste of the cheep beer linger on his tongue as his eyes drifted to the hallway.
eddie couldn't remember how long it had been since you excused yourself, and eventually saw you leaving the bathroom. you were wiping your bottom lip with your thumb, and his eyes lingered for a moment at your lips.
you were also finally drinking your wine, which looked thicker than the one you'd poured. he figured it was just his mind playing tricks on him, and brushed it off. you approached and greeted him with a soft smile.
"did y' reapply fake blood in there? you were gone quite a while. i was worried you'd fallen in or something," he chuckled.
"yeah- i was. that shits sticky as hell," you breathed out a laugh, almost suspiciously. you seemed a little on edge.
"hey- are you oka-" he was cut off by a blood curdling scream coming from the bathroom. "what the fuck was that about?" eddie spoke, slightly startled.
"i'm not sure, probably some halloween prank." you spoke, staring at your wine as you swirled it around in the glass.
after a few moments, a guy came into the main room, stormed towards the stereo and turned the music off. "everyone needs to leave right the fuck now." he yelled.
there was a collective sound of 'boo's and 'come on man!' but he still ushered them all out.
"maybe it's not a halloween prank" eddie spoke. "you uh- you need a ride home?" he offers politely.
"sure, i don't mind." you agreed, smiling gratefully. he had to bite his bottom lip to stop the smile from spreading across his face, you really were contagious.
When you got in the van, he offered for you to choose from his tapes to play while he drove. you skimmed through the unorganized collection, and ultimately settled with a metallica mixtape. the first song to play was for whom the bell tolls.
eddie let out a whistle as the music hit his ears. "good choice, sweetheart." he moved his hand to turn the music up slightly, before moving his eyes off the road for a second to look at you, a cheesy smile on his lips.
your heart could have just stopped right there and then.
the rest of the ride was calm, minus the music playing in the background. eddie strummed his fingers on the wheel along to the songs, his silver rings rattling like additional percussion. you couldn't stop yourself from staring, it was honestly quite satisfying.
"so uh where am i driving to?" he asks as they were stationary at a red light. he was still mindlessly drumming his fingers on the wheel, her eyes lingering on them before the lights went green, snapping you back to reality.
"i live on the street next to the cemetery," you responded, eyes drifting back to his hands. his hands were alarmingly breathtaking, and quite veiny.
"you got it sweetheart. let's get you home" he spoke softly. you felt your heart flutter at the endearment.
it wasn't the first time this night it had done that either. every time he'd called you sweetheart that night, it was like someone had set off butterflies in your stomach. you weren't one to catch feelings this fast, you'd grown a fear of abandonment over time.
you had to try and suppress the feelings as much as possible, he was just a kind acquaintance driving you home, nothing more, nothing less.
why did that feel so impossible?
"jesus christ is that where you live?" he spoke, jaw slightly agape as they turned the street next to the cemetery, pulling up to one of the more fancier houses in town. "didn't know you were rich, sweetheart." he jokes.
"there's a lot of things you don't know about me." you replied, a soft smile planted on your face. as he pulled up to her driveway, he hesitated.
"uh...would it be too forward to ask for your landline?" he spoke, trying not to show any signs of nervousness.
"if you have a pen." eddie quickly scrambled through his messy shoebox, grabbing a pen and handing it to you. your fingers touch slightly, and the first thing he noticed was how cold your touch was. your eyes locked for a second, hearts fluttering.
"give me your arm, mon chèri." he froze at your french, eyes widening slightly with a smirk, before snapping out of it. he rolled up his sleeve and gave you his arm.
you wrote your number neatly on his forearm, your handwriting almost cursive. he couldn't help but watch as you focused, awestruck by your beauty.
"thank you for the ride, eddie munson." you spoke, opening the door. "call me soon, okay?" you said before closing the door and walking to your porch. eddie didn't even get a chance to say goodbye, he was almost in a trance as he watched you go.
"jesus h. christ, eddie, get it together. you've seen pretty girls before." he spoke before pulling out of her driveway.
a few days later, eddie was watching the news while reading through his campaign notes. his ears perked up when he heard a crime from a halloween party a few days ago. the same party he was at. now he was listening, the notes discarded to the side.
he soon discovered that the cause of the scream from the party was someone finding a dead body. the cause of death was something had bitten her in the neck, and the wrist, and she'd bled to death, though there wasn't a huge trace of blood. it's as if she was drained, and then left to die.
eddie felt his heart stutter, fear creeping up his neck. he wasn't usually scared by crimes he heard on the news, but knowing he was on the crime scene definitely sent a shiver down his spine.
after that, more and more bodies with the same deaths had been discovered and he had a weird feeling in his gut. something was off about this whole situation.
his eyes kept darting to his phone on the wall, he hadn't called you at all since the party. he wasn't sure if it was shyness or fear of rejection or what, but now he felt like he should.
"fuck it."
he got up from his sofa and walked towards the phone, your number was still on his arm, though slightly faded. he couldn't tell if one of the numbers was an 8 or a 9, and he prayed he'd get it right the first time.
he dialed the number into the phone, hesitating to press call. then he did, and it rang for just over ten seconds.
"hello?" he heard the familiar french accent and his stomach flipped. you sounded tired, like he'd just woken you. it was 11am, so maybe you'd slept in.
"hey sweetheart. you doing okay?" he asked, hearing a yawn through the line. "mhm," you hummed softly. "why'd you call, mon chèri?" you asked curiously.
he paused, he didn't actually know. "uh...are you busy today?" he blurted out. there was a beat of silence. "a little. i'll be free when the sun goes down, why, what were you planning?" you responded, yawning again.
"i don't know, i was wondering if you wanted to uh hangout."
"sure, we could go down to lovers lake?" he heard your groggy voice ask. how he could get used to that voice. "that works for me. would 8pm be good for you?" "mhm. i'll see you there, eddie." you spoke. he then heard the line cut off.
he pulled up to lovers lake at 8:02pm. he couldn't tell if you were there yet, so he pulled out a cigarette, cupping it as he lit it. he leant against his van just staring at the waves when-
"hi." you whispered right next to him. "JESUS christ!" he practically jumped out of his skin, bouncing back like a skittish cat, clutching his pearls. you let out an evil laugh at his jumpiness.
"christ, y/n, you scared the living daylight out of me. do you creep up on people like that often?" he spoke, gathering his breathing back.
"sometimes" you responded, calming down from your laughter. "pretty night, huh?"
"oh, yeah. real pretty. well it was before my heart fell to my ass." he complained.
"you're fine, mon chèri. it's just me." you spoke. "just you, huh?" he spoke softly. "anyway, what had you so busy that you're only free after sundown?" he asked.
"work stuff. i'm a freelancer, so i've got quite a big workload since i'm my only worker," you let out a breathy laugh.
"ooh a freelancer, huh? what kind of work do you do?" he asked as you both started walking down to the lake.
"i create and sell paintings. you'd be surprised how much someone would buy a portrait of themselves for." you chucked.
"a painter? you paint? that's cool." he didn't understand why he was making a big deal out of it. so what if she paints? totally normal.
"yeah, portraits, landscapes, you name it. i get a lot of commissions, one of the reasons why i don't settle often." you explained. eddie just stares in awe.
"that's pretty badass. you'll have to paint me one day," he chuckled.
"yeah maybe one day, mon cœur." you smiled, looking away, over to the water.
eddie couldn't help how his eyes lingered on her. your face was illuminated by the soft moonlight, your hair flowing slightly in the wind. he'd only just met this girl a couple days ago, was he already falling for her? no. surely not. he's not in high school anymore, he doesn't get crushes like that anymore.
"you look beautiful." he blurted out. he wasn't meant to say that.
"oh yeah? you think so?" you teased, seeing him hide his face with his hair, his sheepish smile peaking through.
"just under the moonlight. you look like you were made for the night. it complements you well," he continued, smiling like a fool.
"you have no idea." you mumbled under your breath, just enough so he couldn't make out the words.
"what was that, sweetheart?" he spoke. "oh i said you're really kind for that. i uh...i don't get many compliments these days." you chuckled.
"really?" he seemed genuinely shocked at your words. "that'll have to change, i'll make that change. you're crazy pretty. prettier than the moon id go as far to say." he was less sheepish now, gaining more confidence, treading the waters carefully with his words.
"oh stop, you don't have to say all that," you smiled. now you were the sheepish one. get it together. he's just a guy. they're just compliments.
why was your heart racing?
"are you blushing?" he teased. "no. i don't know what you're talking about."
"oh you so are! you're blushing like a sunburn on a summers day" he laughed, not at you, just teasing.
"shut up." you said playfully, shoving his shoulder with your own. you both fell into a laughing fit. Eddie then tripped over a fallen branch making you laugh even more, gasping for breath.
he was absolutely obsessed with the sound of your laughter. it was like hearing his favorite song for the first time, and he wanted to memorize it and hear it over and over again. you felt familiar in a way he couldn't describe. you felt like home.
"you're staring again, mon chèri." you spoke, your eyes trailing over his face. you wanted to learn it like a map, tracing every inch for new details. was that so wrong?
"oh- right. sorry." he chuckled, looking to the side. "got lost there for a moment."
"hey...do you wanna go to that art gallery? the really old one near enzo's?" you asked.
"dude it's like almost 9pm. i'm pretty sure it's closed by now."
"aww come on pretty boy, don't tell me you're scared of breaking a rule or two." you teased. he rolled his eyes dramatically.
"fine. let's go. i'll drive us there." he smiled, seeing your face light up. god, he was fucked.
you arrived at the gallery quite fast. you approached the door, using a hair pin to open the door, feeling for each click of the lock. eddie was shocked at your ability to unlock the door so effortlessly, no alarms sounding or anything. his lips parted slightly in awe.
"ladies first," you said, opening the door wide and gesturing him to go in. "ladies? you're lucky i like you." he chuckled, following you in.
you lit a candle lamp so you weren't in the pitch black and you both walked through the gallery in silence. Eddie noticed how you knew your way around so easily considering you'd just moved here.
your left hand dangled down the side of you, not realizing how close it was to his before your fingers gently brushed. your heart jolted slightly at the touch. he didn't pull his hand away, locking his pinky with yours.
"you know, this isn't my first time in hawkins. i used to live here a while ago," you explained.
"surely i would have seen you, how would i not pick up on a face like yours?" he asked, curiosity lacing his voice.
"i'll explain more when the time is right." you said, looking at a painting.
"when the time is right? how ominous of you. when exactly will the time be right, then, sweetheart?" he continued.
"as i said, when the time is right." you spoke, stopping. you put the candle lamp on a display, and leaned gently against said display.
an awkward silence fell upon you both, nothing to hear but rats in the walls and your mutual breathing.
eddie couldn't take his eyes off you, the soft candle light making some of your features glow, leaving the rest in a dim shadow. you were fucking stunning.
"you're doing that staring thing again, mon cœur." you spoke quietly, a small smile spreading on your lips.
"how can i not when you look so...ethereal." he spoke. it's like he was seeing you in a different light, sure you were gorgeous before, but now- something was different. a good different. he was encapsulated completely.
"careful, eddie. you keep talking to me like that and i might start thinking you like me." you spoke, treading the water lightly. you could feel it. you could both feel it. the tension was rising, and soon enough it would snap.
"you have a habit of breaking rules or is tonight your exception?" eddie asked, taking a step closer.
"i break rules when i see fit. if the opportunity asks for it, i don't wanna miss it." you answered, looking at him now. your faces had grown closer to what you'd both thought.
"i meant what i said before. you're gorgeous. absolutely fucking beautiful." he spoke quietly, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.
"i don't know if i trust those words anymore." you admitted softly.
"can i show you that i mean it?" he whispered, your noses almost touching. he could feel your breath on his face, cold but soothing. he noticed as your eyes darted to his lips and he followed with his own, looking at yours.
you nodded subtly and that was all he needed before gently connecting your lips. his heart was soaring in his chest so loud he was scared you could hear it.
you reached her hand up gently to the crook of his neck, tangling your fingers in the soft curls of his hair, pulling him closer. the kiss grew stronger, more passionate. he felt you gasp into his mouth as he pulled you closer by your waist.
your lips were dancing in tandem with your hearts, and all the worries and noise of the harsh world around you melted away. it was only you two in the closed museum, hearts melting together in the soft glow of the candle light.
you were so sure it was him. it had to be him. it was him.
good things don't always last.
"who's there?!" they heard a guard yell, his torch light pointing to your direction in the hallway. "shit-!" eddie yelped, pulling away from you, running his hands through his hair. "jesus h. christ. what do we do? y/n what do we do?" he panicked.
"calm yourself mon amor." you spoke, standing up straight from the display and allowed the guard to walk towards them.
"i will call the police! your last warning, you need to leave." the guard yelled. he was quite old, maybe in his late 50s early 60s.
you walked slowly yet confidently towards the guard. eddie felt the energy change in the room. he didn't feel fear because of the officer anymore, he felt fear for the officer.
"y/n- what are you doing?" he asked, hazardously. "please forgive me for this, eddie. i did not wish for you to see this." she didn't turn to face him as she spoke.
it was then when you rose from the floor, jumping a few feet into the air before landing back down on the guard, knocking him down.
you sunk your teeth into his neck, and the officer screamed like bloody murder- literally.
you covered his mouth with your hand, muffling his cries of agony while you drained his blood ravishingly. it was a monstrous sight to see. eddie was frozen like a deer caught in headlights. he didn't know what to do, should he run? should he hide? he should have ran for the hills like he said that day there and then.
you stood up from the dead guard, turning around slowly as you wiped the blood from your chin. you then slowly started walking towards eddie. very slowly.
eddie stumbled backwards, falling onto his ass as he tripped over his bag. he crawled backwards in fear.
"you don't need to fear me, eddie, i will not hurt you. if i wanted to you'd be dead by now." you reassured him.
"oh how comforting!" he exclaimed, crawling back. he then saw a painting next to him. it was an old painting of a couple, he couldn't make out their faces but they looked oddly familiar. as if he'd seen it before, though he'd never had an interest in paintings so he'd never been here before tonight.
"eddie, mon chèri, you need to calm down. i hear your heart racing." you spoke softly, still walking slowly towards him.
he looked between you and the painting and it clicked. it was her. and...no, surely not. he had to be hallucinating. "you're- you have the devil in you!" he yelled, frantically crawling backwards still.
"you killed all those people! the one at the party- the ones on the news! it was all you!" he exclaimed.
"i kill those who deserve it." you corrected.
"we met for a reason, eddie. fate brought us back together. i lost you once before, i will not lose you again. you're wrong, i don't have the devil in me. but i can bring you death." you spoke.
he saw the soft glow in you eyes, like a cat in the dark night. "what are you talking about?!" he yelled in fear. his back hit a wall behind him. he was cornered.
"we were companions a long time ago. in this same very town. you did not know i was...a vampire back then. i was a coward for not revealing myself. i could-" you paused, your voice breaking. "i could have saved you. i could have given you this gift of eternal power and youth and instead i watched you die. i won't let that happen again."
your words settled sourly on his chest. an uncomfortable yet familiar feeling in his gut. "how is that possible?" he spoke, his voice strained with fear and confusion as his eyes continued to dart between you and the painting, the man looking a lot too familiar for comfort. it was him with you in the portrait.
"you rebirthed. twice. i could not find you the first time, but ive found you once again. and its honestly ironic that in each life you live, you have the same name, edward." you spoke. you stood near his feet, and crouched down to his height.
"i love you, eddie. i have so much love for you, in every life you rebirth. be my companion once more. all you have to do is ask for it." you spoke quietly, looking into his eyes with a century of love and pain.
his fear slowly soothed away at your soft words. his eyes looked into yours with a similar deepness, a curiosity and wonder in his expression. he lifted a hand to your cheek and you lent into it.
"i can't lose you again, eddie. not after this long. not after a century of searching and mourning. my heart can't take anymore." your eyes welled with red tears, you were crying blood. a singular tear ran down your cheek, staining it crimson in its wake. eddie brushed it away with his thumb.
"sweetheart..."
"i love you eddie. i know you feel it too. i hear your heart soaring when you lay eyes on me. please tell me you do, you have to." your voice broke.
"i love you too, y/n. i wasn't sure why i felt so drawn to you, why you felt so familiar. but i think i understand now." he spoke, his doe eyes full of wonder. he pulled your face towards him and your lips crashed softly.
you let out a gasp as they connected, and you leant into it. you could hear his blood pumping through his veins at a rapid pace. he could taste the iron of the blood that you drank only a moment ago. he hated how much he craved it.
he gently grabbed you by the waist, pulling you onto his lap as the kiss deepened. you bit his bottom lip enough to draw blood and licked it to soothe it, tasting his blood on your tongue. eddie took that as his signal to explore your mouth, your tongues dancing together as if it wasn't the first time.
you pulled away from the kiss and started leaving trails down his jaw, then to his neck, sucking on the fragile skin gently. he let out a soft gasp at your touch, his jaw going slack as he felt your canines gently drag against his pulse.
"do you accept my gift of the dark night, eddie?" you whispered. his heart was thrumming between his rib cage, his thoughts going a million miles a second yet he wasn't sure he wanted to say no.
"yes or no, mon chèri." you spoke again, nipping lightly at his neck, teasing him for what could come.
"yes..." he breathed out hesitantly before letting out a loud gasp as you sunk your teeth into his neck, his eyes going wide as he gripped your shoulder. it hurt a lot at first, burning white hot pain. but as you drank, the pain soon turned to dullness. the blood leaving his body making him feel colder, his fingertips buzzing.
he was breathing heavily, but the soft caress of your hand cradling his head as you drank stabilized him a lot. you weren't tearing him apart, you weren't drinking to kill. you were gentle. a lot more gentle than you were with the guard he'd witnessed die.
he was so drained of blood that he was turning a dull shade of grey, and felt incredibly weak. he watched as you pulled back, slitting a line in your forearm with your thumb, before raising it to his lips. "take what you need, mon cœur." you spoke.
as soon as the blood hit his tongue, he immediately reached for her arm, pulling it closer as he sucked the blood from you. he felt absolutely euphoric, the feeling of your blood entering his veins, replacing what you'd drained, was the best feeling he'd ever felt in his life. better than any drug he'd taken at a party.
"there you go, mon chèri. just a little more." you cooed, watching him as he drank from you, claiming the rare gift you'd offered so kindly.
eventually you pulled your wrist away and it hit him like a freight train. the hunger, the unbearable, excruciatingly painful hunger.
"what's happening to me?" he groaned, clutching his stomach.
"your body is confused, dying and rebirthing. and you're hungry." you explained, standing up and walking over to the guard, hauling him onto your shoulder like he weighed nothing.
"come on, eddie. we need to go pay the cemetery a visit." you said, walking off. eddie trailed behind you, stumbling all over the place in pain.
part two soon!!!! <3
tag list: @flwrsuh
let me know if you'd like to be tagged for part two 🫶🫶
୨୧˚- pairing: eddie munson x best friend! reader. no use of y/n, afab reader.
୨୧˚- synopsis: you and eddie have been best friends for years, doing everything together. lately, though, things have started to feel different between you two. this is part three of the picture you series. [1] [2] [3]
୨୧˚- warnings: best friends to lovers trope, miscommunication trope, basically eddie and reader are dummies until they’re not, slight angst, SMUT, 18+ MDNI, pussy eating, mentions of male masturbation, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering (f receiving), creampie, slight switch eddie and reader, lmk if i forgot any!
୨୧˚- note : yall :(( final chapter!! writing this series has been so amazing and truly brought my spark and love for writing back, and so much of that has to do with all the support i’ve received! every single, like, reblog, comment, and follow has meant the absolute world to me and i cannot thank yall enough for all the love. i hope you enjoy this one, ya freaks. love you dearly — gem 💎
୨୧˚- lowercase intended, not edited, 11.2k words.
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ೋ✧ send me a request here!
: ̗̀➛ listening to ; say yes to heaven — lana del rey
the tension between you and eddie hasn’t exactly faded, if anything, it’s settled into something heavier, something neither of you know how to address. you’ve been dodging each other, sticking to quick, clipped conversations at lunch or when passing each other in the halls. it’s stupid. it’s unbearable. yet, you don’t know how to bridge this gap. he’s shutting you out, pushing you away and all you can do is let it happen.
but tonight is hellfire night, which means there’s no avoiding him. you linger outside the door of the drama room, rolling a twenty-sided die between your fingers. inside, you can hear gareth and brian arguing over spell slots while dustin tries to mediate, but eddie’s voice is conspicuously absent.
you take a deep breath and push the door open. you were running late, which means eddie would undoubtedly be pissed, even under better circumstances. he didn’t give you a ride back from work today, but he knows who did, his current arch nemesis, even if only one-sided in his head— steve harrington.
he’s already at the head of the table, dungeon master screen propped in front of him. his eyes flick up when you enter, dark and unreadable. for a moment, you just stare at each other, a silent standoff.
then he grins, sharp and effortless, like nothing’s wrong at all.
“well, well,” he drawls, spreading his arms. “if it isn’t our illustrious rogue, finally gracing us with her presence.”
you manage a weak smile, trying to hopefully lighten the blow you were sure to get after hellfire, “yeah, sorry about that, i—"
he holds up a hand, cutting you off. “don’t worry about it." he gestures to the chair beside him. “sit."
it’s that same commanding tone he always uses as dungeon master, the one that makes your pulse race even after hearing it a hundred times. you swallow hard, sinking into the seat he offered.
the game starts like it always does, eddie weaving a rich, vivid world with nothing but words and his own chaotic energy. his voice is full of life, his hands animated as he describes the dark caverns your party is exploring, the ominous growls echoing in the distance, but something’s off.
he doesn’t look at you. not really.
every time you meet his gaze, he glances away too quickly, like even now, in the middle of hellfire, with everyone laughing and shouting around you both, he can’t stand to hold your stare for too long.
“alright, rogue," he says, finally turning fully toward you as your character sneaks ahead to scout. “roll for stealth."
his fingers tap impatiently against the table. his knee bumps yours under it. just once, just enough to send a jolt through you. you swallow and pick up the die.
the die tumbles across the table, landing with a clatter—a natural 1.
eddie lets out a slow, dramatic whistle. “oof. that’s gonna leave a mark." he leans forward, his voice dropping into that theatrical dm cadence. “as you creep through the shadows, your foot catches on a loose stone. you stumble, loudly, and suddenly, every set of glowing eyes in the cavern snaps toward you."
gareth groans, “dude, we are so dead."
eddie’s still looking at you, smirk tugging at his lips. it’s the first time in days he’s held your gaze this long. “what’s your move, rogue?”
for a moment, it feels like old times again. like maybe, just maybe, you can fix this.
you grin, picking up another die. “i’m gonna need all the luck on this one.”
eddie’s smirk deepens, fingers steepled under his chin as he watches you shake the die in your cupped hands for dramatic effect. the rest of the table holds their breath, even dustin stops mid-complaint to watch.
“c’mon, don’t choke now," eddie taunts, eyes glinting in the dim classroom light. “unless you want your rogue to become monster chow."
you roll.
the die bounces, spins, and finally lands—
nat 20.
the table erupts. gareth whoops, brian slams his palms on the table, and dustin nearly falls out of his chair cheering, but eddie? eddie just stares at the die, then at you, something unreadable flickering across his face before he schools it into a grin.
“well, shit," he says, leaning back in his chair. “looks like lady luck’s smiling upon you tonight." his voice is light, but his knee knocks against yours again under the table, lingering this time. for the first time in days, something in your chest unclenches.
“guess so," you murmur, holding his gaze just a beat too long before turning back to the game.
the session wraps with your party narrowly escaping the caverns, thanks to your rogue’s lucky rolls and eddie’s just-lenient-enough rulings. as everyone packs up their dice and character sheets, eddie lingers by the table, fiddling with the dm screen instead of making his usual dramatic exit.
you pretend not to notice, shoving your notebook into your bag with deliberate slowness until it’s just the two of you left in the room. the overhead fluorescents hum ominously.
eddie clears his throat. “so,” he spins a d20 between his fingers, still not looking at you. “harrington give you a ride home again, or…?”
there it is, the thing he’s been biting back all night. the thing he’s actually mad about.
you exhale through your nose. “you could’ve just asked me that days ago, you know.”
the die clatters onto the table. he finally meets your eyes, jaw tight. “yeah? and what would you’ve said?”
“that steve’s just my coworker.” you sling your bag over your shoulder. “and that you’re being weird about this.”
eddie barks out a laugh, sharp, humorless. “weird. right.” he pushes off the table, grabbing his jacket. “maybe i just don’t like watching you play happy family with king steve while you’ve been avoiding me like i’ve got the goddamn plague.”
the words hang between you, raw and unfiltered. you both freeze, equally startled by his outburst.
you open your mouth, to argue, to apologize, you’re not sure, but the door swings open as dustin pokes his head back in.
“uh, sorry to interrupt,” he says awkwardly, “but gareth lost his lucky d12 and he’s having a meltdown in the parking lot—”
eddie shuts his eyes, dragging a hand down his face. “jesus christ, the kid’s lucky i don't kick him out of this club.” he pushes forward to grab his keys, avoiding your gaze. “i'll handle it. you should go, steve's probably waiting."
he storms out of the room before you can reply, leaving you standing there with your backpack and a sinking feeling in your chest that this isn't going to be easy to fix.
eddie paces the length of the trailer’s living room, arms waving animatedly as he rants about the same thing he’s been stuck on for days now. you. gareth rolls his eyes from his spot on the couch, the old springs creaking softly underneath him when he adjusts.
eddie cuts off mid-rant, eyeing gareth accusingly. “shut it, i’m having a crisis."
gareth shrugs, taking a drag of the joint they're sharing. “you've had the same crisis for almost a week now, man."
eddie slumps down on the edge of the couch, head in his hands. “yeah, because she's avoiding me!" he moans dramatically.
“are you not doing the same thing?”
eddie shoots him a glare. gareth rolls his eyes again, but his lips twitch with suppressed amusement. “you're both idiots."
eddie exhales sharply, staring down at the frayed rug instead of answering. he knows gareth is right, but that doesn't make this any easier.
“i’m just," he mutters finally, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “i don't know how to act around her anymore."
gareth sighs, flicking ash into an empty soda can on the coffee table. “yeah, well, you could start by not acting like a jealous freak every time harrington so much as breathes near her."
eddie scowls. “i'm not—"
"—you are,” gareth cuts in. “and newsflash, munson? it's making everything worse."
a beat of silence; the trailer's ac unit rattles in the quiet.
eddie deflates, elbows on his knees. "...what do i do?" it comes out quiet, uncharacteristically vulnerable.
gareth stubs out the joint, considering. “either tell her how you actually feel, or get over it, but this weird possessive limbo shit?" he gestures vaguely at eddie's entire existence. “not a good look."
eddie knows he's right. he also knows he's terrified of both options.
he rubs a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. “it's not that simple."
“yeah, because you're making it complicated,” gareth points out bluntly. “you know she’s not gonna drop everything just 'cause harrington bats his pretty lashes at her.”
eddie glares at him, unamused. “i never said that."
gareth rolls his eyes for what feels like the millionth time tonight. “it's written all over your face, dude."
eddie's jaw clenches, but he's smart enough not to argue. he's been caught. "...i just don't like how much time they've been spending together."
gareth sighs again. “so tell her that, man. jesus, for someone so damn loud, you sure suck at communication."
eddie bristles at the jab, but there's truth to it. “it's different with her," he finally mutters, staring at a stain on the carpet. “what am i even supposed to say? 'hey, sweetheart, sorry i've been acting like a jealous dick, but the thought of you spending all this time with harrington makes me want to throw up'? that'll go over well." eddie groans in frustration, pulling at his messy curls, “i mean, he’s driving her home now for fucks sake! since when are they that close?”
gareth snorts, leaning back into the couch with a knowing smirk. “oh my god, you are pathetic."
eddie flips him off, but there's no real heat behind it.
gareth waves the gesture away. “look, you're missing the point, she’s your best friend. you’ve known her longer than anyone else. so what if harrington’s being nice? you think that’s gonna magically erase nearly a decade of you two being glued at the hip?" he shakes his head. “you’re acting like she’s gonna forget about you just ‘cause some ex-jock gives her a ride home."
the words land harder than eddie expects, because that’s exactly what he’s been afraid of.
gareth tilts his head, studying eddie for a moment before his expression softens slightly. “but here’s the thing, man, she chose you. over and over again. even when you piss her off, even when you disappear for weeks 'cause your brain won’t shut up about how you’re not good enough, she always comes back."
eddie swallows hard, staring at his hands. "...yeah?"
gareth shrugs. “yeah, so stop being an idiot and talk to her."
eddie exhales sharply, rubbing his temples like gareth just gave him the world’s most exhausting epiphany. “okay, fine. you’re right—”
gareth gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. “holy shit. say that again. i need to record this for posterity.”
eddie chucks a couch pillow at his face. “shut up, i’m being serious!” he drags a hand through his hair, nervous energy buzzing under his skin. “but what if… what if i tell her and it changes everything?” his voice cracks, just slightly. “worse than it already has?”
gareth sobers, leaning forward. “then at least you’ll know. and hey—” he grins, sharp and knowing. “maybe she feels the same way.”
eddie’s stomach does a traitorous flip. he grabs his vest off the floor, shoving his arms through the sleeves with more force than necessary. “i hate you.”
gareth smirks. “no, you don’t.”
eddie doesn’t argue, because gareth’s right. again.
---
the walk to your trailer is short, but eddie’s heart is pounding like he just sprinted across hawkins. he hesitates at your doorstep, fist raised to knock, then lowers it, then raises it again. fuck. he’s never been this nervous around you before, but then again, he’s never had this to lose before.
he knocks.
he hears footsteps approaching from the other side moments later, running his sweaty palms against his jeans. the door is pulled open, slivers of light illuminating the otherwise pitch black night, but who answers isn’t who he’s looking for. standing in the doorway— your mom, a kind smile forming on her face as she recognizes him, “sweetie, she’s not home yet.”
eddie's stomach twists with an all-too-familiar anxiety. he shoves his hands into his pockets to hide their shaking.
“oh." his voice is rough, but he tries for a smile. “any idea when she'll be back?”
your mom gives him a sympathetic look, noticing the tension in his frame despite his forced casualness. “she should be home soon, had to close up at the video store tonight." she pauses, studying him for a beat before adding softly, “you want to come in and wait? i just made some coffee."
eddie hesitates. normally, he'd say yes without thinking, he's practically lived in your trailer as much as his own over the years. but now? now everything feels different. now his skin is buzzing with the weight of what he can’t put into words.
“uh—" he scratches the back of his neck, glancing toward the empty driveway. “nah, i’ll just… catch her later. thanks, though.”
your mom sighs, but nods. “alright, sweetie. you take care of yourself.” the unspoken ‘and talk to her already’ hangs in the air between them as she closes the door gently.
eddie stands there for another second, staring at the peeling paint of your trailer like it holds answers. he turns on his heel and stalks back into the dark, kicking at a loose rock on the path.
“fuck," he mutters to no one. coward.
you and robin stand behind the counter, sorting out returned tapes while steve straightens the shelves in the sci-fi section. the clock on the wall ticks closer to closing time. your eyes drift toward the front window, watching the parking lot. the familiar white headlights you're hoping for don't show up.
robin notices you spacing out, glancing over her shoulder. “you alright?"
you blink, shaking yourself out of the daze. “huh? oh, yeah. just tired." you force a smile, stacking another vhs tape on the pile with too much focus.
robin raises an eyebrow, she's known you long enough to see right through that. “uh-huh, and i'm secretly fluent in morse code." she leans her elbows on the counter, chin in her hands. “come on, spill. what’s eatin’ ya? is this about eddie avoiding you? because trust me, everyone's noticed."
from behind the shelf he’s straightening, steve makes a noncommittal noise like he's trying very hard not to get involved.
you exhale sharply, fiddling with the edge of a rental slip. “i don't even know what it's about. one minute we're fine, the next he's acting like i personally betrayed him by what, existing near steve? like i can’t have friends outside of hellfire?”
steve immediately holds his hands up from across the store. “do not drag me into this."
robin ignores him, narrowing her eyes at you. “okay, but let's be real, eddie munson does not do subtle. if he's pissed, he'd be yelling about it. this? this feels like something else."
you swallow hard, because yeah, you've thought about that too. the way his knee kept brushing yours during hellfire like it was an accident, but you both knew better. the way he wouldn't meet your eyes unless it was through the safety of the game.
“i don't know," you mutter finally. “and honestly? i'm kinda scared to ask."
robin gives you a long, knowing look. somewhere in the back of your mind, you realize she already knows exactly what you were thinking— she was always good at that.
“don’t look at me like that,” you huff, causing a slight smirk to curl at robin’s lips.
“like what?”
“like you know everything, it’s annoying.”
“i do kinda know everything,” robin leans in, lowering her voice even though steve is clearly eavesdropping from the horror section now, pretending to focus on his work— despite earlier not wanting anything to do with this, he can’t help himself.
“look," she says, blunt as always, “i've seen the way eddie looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching. it’s the same way steve looks at literally any girl who gives him the time of day, except, you know, with way more emotional constipation."
steve drops a stack of tapes with a loud clatter. “hey—!"
robin barrels on, ignoring him. “point is, whatever this is between you two? it’s so clearly not just about dingus over there. so either rip the band-aid off and talk to him, or keep doing…" she gestures vaguely at your whole situation. "...whatever this weird avoidance dance is."
silence. even steve stays quiet for once, picking up the tapes he dropped with unusual focus.
you bite your lip, glancing back out the window. still no van. still no eddie. “what if talking makes it worse?"
robin sighs, tossing an arm around your shoulders. “then at least you’ll know, right?" she gives you a light shake. “but honestly? i don’t think it will."
“well, he started it. he should come to me.”
you know you’re being unreasonable, stubborn, difficult, and whatever else robin would surely throw at you, but part of you wishes that eddie would fight for you, do something at least. it seemed like this wasn’t bothering him even half as much as it was you, it was infuriating and completely stupid.
robin groans dramatically, throwing her hands up. “oh my god, you two are impossible." she turns to steve, gesturing wildly at you. “tell her. tell her she's being just as stubborn as he is."
steve, now fully invested despite his earlier protests, sighs and leans against the counter. “look, i've known eddie long enough to know, dude’s a walking contradiction. he’ll scream his opinions about everything except the stuff that actually matters to him." he pauses, rubbing the back of his neck. “and yeah, he probably should come to you first, but… are you really gonna let this drag out just to prove a point?"
ouch. that stings more than you’d like to admit. he’s right, of course, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.
you cross your arms, glaring at the floor. “it's not about proving a point. it's about… i don't even know what i did!"
robin and steve exchange a look. a whole silent conversation you aren’t a part of happens in the span of two seconds before robin finally sighs.
“fine," she says, straightening up. “then let’s settle this like mature adults."
you blink. steve squints, "how?"
robin grins, sharp and dangerous. “we lock them both in a room until one of them cracks."
steve nods solemnly, “that… actually might work."
you groan, burying your face in your hands. “we are not doing that.”
robin pats your shoulder consolingly. “it’s for the greater good. trust me. and hey, it'll be better than the cold shoulder act you two have going on right now." she shrugs. “plus, the drama would be incredible. i do love a good show."
“ha, ha, hilarious. can we come up with an actual solution please?” you roll your eyes, becoming more and more frustrated by this conversation every second you’re forced to have it.
steve sighs, running a hand through his hair. “yeah, i agree," he says. “as much fun as watching you two stubborn idiots bang your heads against walls for the next decade would be, maybe there's a less… intense solution."
you and robin both perk up a little bit at that. “like…?"
steve leans against the counter, rubbing his chin like he's about to drop the most profound piece of wisdom hawkins has ever seen. “okay, hear me out—"
robin groans, “oh no."
steve ignores her, pointing at you with all the gravitas of a high school guidance counselor. “you guys are best friends, right? so just… go back to that. hang out like normal. no weird tension, no dramatic confessions, just you, him, and whatever dumb shit you usually do together."
robin blinks. “did steve harrington just give genuinely good advice, or am i hallucinating?"
steve shoots her an annoyed look before continuing, “the point is, stop trying to force it. if eddie’s being weird, don’t match his energy, just be you. the version of you he’s literally never been able to say no to." he shrugs. “and if that doesn’t work? then we lock you in the closet."
you stare at him. robin stares at him. even the hum of the fluorescent lights feels judgmental.
“i don’t know, guys,” you bury your face in your hands, leaning against the counter. “can’t i just like… ignore this until it goes away? absence makes the heart grow fonder, or some shit like that.”
steve rolls his eyes, “that just sounds like another fancy way of saying 'avoidance,' which you've been trying for days now. how’s it working so far?"
you sigh. he has a point, but your pride wants to argue. robin jumps in before you can open your mouth to fight him on it.
robin straightens up a bit, more serious now. “as much as i hate to say it, steve's right. you're stressing over this way too much. hell, i've seen you face actual monsters more calmly than you've been acting about eddie,” she leans closer. “is it really worth losing your best friend over a weird communication blip?”
there it is. the blunt truth you've been avoiding since the whole situation started, laid bare and out in the open. the thing you know in your gut, but have been trying to deny. the fact that this avoidance act is only making it worse, not better, because it's hurting the person who's been your other half since you were kids, but you're stubborn and scared, two factors that never mix well when making life decisions. you try to laugh it off, doing what you and eddie always did best— deflecting. “a 'weird communication blip,' huh? you been reading up on those big, fancy psych books?”
robin scoffs, flicking a stray m&m at you from the box she’d stolen from behind the counter. “no, i’ve just been watching you two nerds orbit each other for years like some tragic rom-com. spoiler alert, it’s exhausting."*
steve nods, “seconded—“
you throw your hands up in frustration. “oh, shut up, both of you." you turn away, messing with a stack of vhs tapes just to have something to do with your hands. you hate that you’re taking it out on them, but your brain is scattered, your fight or flight taking over completely. “you talk like it's so simple. like it's just… easy, but it's not, okay? and there's no guarantee that eddie just… goes back to normal if i pretend there's nothing wrong. in fact, there's a very real chance i make everything significantly worse, and then what? i lose my best friend?”
robin and steve exchange another look, probably silently agreeing that your brain is a nightmare of overthinking and anxiety. steve speaks first, surprisingly serious. "then you deal with it," he says bluntly. “if this all goes sideways and he's still a grumpy idiot… you deal with it."
robin nods, “and honestly, you're a badass. plus, you know eddie, better than any of us. the dude's dramatic about everything. if anyone can handle his emo ass, it's you."
you exhale slowly. "...is this supposed to be reassuring?"
“no, it's supposed to be practical. you guys have a history, and a damn good one at that. what, are you just gonna let some weird awkward phase ruin that just because you're overthinking for the both of you?"
you shake your head, but the knot in your stomach is back in full force. because she's right. again.
steve sighs, drumming his fingers against the counter. “look… the dude's a mess, but the one thing i do know about eddie is that he'd rather set himself on fire than purposely screw things up with you. you're important to him. whatever this is, it's probably just as much in his head as it is in yours. he's just… horrible at showing it."
“you think so?”
robin reaches across the counter and flicks your forehead—hard.
“yes, dingus," she says, deadpan. “we all think so. except you, apparently."
steve nods emphatically. “seriously, he’s not subtle. he never has been. he just sucks at feelings." a beat. "...actually, now that i think about it, you both do. it's kinda terrifying how bad you are at this."
you glare at him, but there's no real heat behind it. mostly because you know he's right. eddie is terrible at feelings, and yeah, maybe you are too. if this is going to get fixed, if there's even a chance of things going back to normal, someone has to make the first move, and maybe… maybe that someone has to be you.
you exhale dramatically, slumping against the counter. “fiiiiine. i'll talk to him." a pause. "...eventually.”
robin throws a crumpled receipt at your face. “not eventually, munson 2.0. preferably tonight, before you lose your nerve."
steve grins, “and don't even think about backing out. i want updates."
you roll your eyes, “yes, dad.”
he scoffs at that, looking offended. “god, don't ever call me that again."
“sorry, mom. better?”
steve groans, throwing his hands up. "i give up. you two are both impossible."
robin cackles, leaning against the counter. “see? this is why you and eddie are perfect for each other, you're equally insufferable.”
you huff, but a tiny, reluctant smile tugs at your lips, "yeah, yeah. i'll talk to him." a pause. “after work."
robin and steve share a look, both grinning like they just achieved a victory.
“atta girl," steve says, raising a hand for a high five. robin smacks it with an obnoxious clap. you roll your eyes for show, attempting to hide the nervous flutter in your chest.
“but don't be a coward," robin adds, raising a pointed eyebrow. “no bullshit. you're going to tell him the truth and you're going to do it tonight. got it?"
you nod, suddenly feeling like you're about to jump off a very high ledge. "got it."
“good,” steve nods, satisfied. “see? we're all being rational adults here. no more drama, no more avoiding each other. this'll be back to normal by tomorrow."
robin shoots him a look, “steve, no one in this situation has ever been rational."
before steve can respond, the store phone rings, startling all three of you. robin lunges for it without a second thought, “family video, this is robin—" she pauses, then smirks, holding the receiver out toward you. “speak of the devil."
your stomach nearly drops to your ass. you take the phone slowly, like it might bite you, “hey."
eddie's voice crackles through the line—hesitant, uncharacteristically quiet. “hey. uh… you off soon?”
“yeah," you say, keeping your voice casual. like this is just any normal day, and not some pivotal moment in your relationship. “i'm closing up now. why?"
eddie clears his throat, a nervous habit you’ve clocked since you were kids. “was thinkin’… maybe i could pick you up? if—if that’s cool."
silence— the kind that stretches just a second too long.
steve and robin are staring at you like this is the climax of their favorite soap opera. robin even mouths, “say yes,” with aggressive eyebrow wiggles.
you exhale shakily, gripping the phone tighter. "...yeah. that’d be cool.”
another pause. then, eddie’s voice, lighter now, almost relieved, “cool. be there in ten.”
the line clicks dead. robin immediately slams her hands on the counter excitedly. steve claps you on the shoulder with a grin. “see? told you it’d work out."
“don’t get too excited just yet. i still have to talk to him.”
robin dramatically flops against the counter, draping an arm over her forehead. “oh, the agony of watching you two idiots tiptoe around each other like a pair of emotionally constipated ballerinas."
steve snorts. “yeah, well, at least we know this won't be boring. just remember—no chickening out. we will find out if you do."
you roll your eyes, but your grip on the phone is still tight. nervous, excited, terrified, all of it at once. “yeah, yeah. i got it."
ten minutes. ten minutes until everything either goes back to normal, or changes forever.
robin shoves your bag into your hands with a thump. “go. before we push you out the door."
steve nods, already steering you toward the exit with exaggerated urgency. “yeah, seriously. we’ve suffered enough secondhand pining to last a lifetime."
you shoot them both a withering look, but there’s no real heat behind it. not when your stomach is doing somersaults at the thought of seeing eddie in whatever this weird new context is.
the bell above the door jingles as you step outside. the night air is cool, sharp, a relief against your flushed skin. as if right on cue, headlights swing into the parking lot.
the van.
him.
“shit," you mutter under your breath, half-prayer, half-curse.
the van crunches to a stop just a few feet away. eddie swings the door open, climbing out onto the pavement with a nervous smile. “hey."
you smile back, but it's a little shaky. “hey."
another long beat of silence. eddie shifts his weight from one booted foot to the other, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. “uh… you ready to go?"
you nod, slinging your bag up over your shoulder. “whenever you are."
he jerks his head toward the van, “lets getcha home.”
you follow him wordlessly to the passenger side, climbing into the front seat and buckling in. eddie slides back into the driver's seat, but he doesn't turn the van on. not yet.
it's awkwardly silent. you steal a quick glance at him, his gaze is fixed out the windshield, jaw clenched like he's wrestling with something. his fingers drum an anxious rhythm on the steering wheel. you swallow, bracing yourself for the inevitable, “uh—“
“you first," he interrupts, like he read your mind.
“oh," you say, fumbling for words. “i—okay." you exhale slowly, fingers playing with a frayed edge of your bag. “i— i need to ask you something."
eddie tenses visibly, like he didn't quite expect that, but he nods anyway. “shoot."
you take another deep breath, willing yourself to attempt this conversation again, “why have you been avoiding me?"
eddie stiffens even more. his gaze flicks to yours, then away just as fast. “i haven't."
“don't bullshit me, eddie," you snap, frustration bubbling over. “you have. you've barely looked at me in days, and you don't act like yourself when you do. it's like you're trying to… distance yourself on purpose, and i don't get it, so will you just… tell me why?"
he's silent for a long moment, staring out the windshield like he's having a whole unspoken argument with himself. when he finally speaks, it's quiet. “i just… needed some time, alright?"
you blink, taken aback— not the answer you were expecting, and he's still looking anywhere but at you, “time for what?"
he swallows hard, his jaw tight again. “to sort some things out."
“and did you? sort it out?”
another unbearable pause. “i don't know." he finally turns to look at you, but his expression is guarded, closed off. you feel a sharp pang in your chest at that. “there's… something i needed to think about, okay? and i just needed some space to figure it out, and—"
you shake your head, suddenly angry. “you could have just told me that, eddie. you know you can tell me anything."
he winces slightly at the hurt in your voice. his fingers flex on the wheel, like he wants to reach out, but can't. “i know—jesus, sweetheart, i know that, but this is… look, it's not that simple, okay? it's a lot more complicated than you think."
you turn to face him more now, rolling your eyes in annoyance. “that’s all i get? really? you’ve been avoiding me and being weird for days and all you have to say is that it’s complicated?”
his jaw clenches again, frustration bleeding into his words. “yeah, it is complicated, alright? i've been going over this in my head for days—"
you cut him off, voice sharper than you meant it to be. “well, maybe if you actually talked to me instead of shutting me out, i'd know that! i'm supposed to be your best friend, man. how am i supposed to help if you keep me in the goddamn dark?"
eddie’s grip tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles whitening. for a second, it seems like he’s about to snap back, but then he just deflates, shoulders slumping. his voice comes out quieter, rough around the edges, “i didn’t want help, okay? because then i’d have to say it out loud, and i can’t—i don’t know how to—" he cuts himself off with a frustrated noise, dragging a hand through his hair. “christ, sweetheart. you really gonna make me spell it out?"
your breath hitches, because suddenly, you think you know, and the realization sends your heart slamming against your ribs.
eddie finally looks at you, really looks at you, and his eyes are wide, almost pleading. like he’s waiting for you to piece it together yourself.
the silence stretches between you, electric, terrifying, possible. you swallow hard. "...eddie."
he exhales shakily, “yeah."
“you’re serious,” you say back, not questioning, processing aloud.
he nods, his throat working. when he speaks again, his voice is a little rough, a bit raw, and a lot hopeful, “i am."
the confession hangs in the air, heavy and vulnerable. you exhale, the noise shaky. “holy shit, dude. do you know how long i've…?" you trail off, a hundred unspoken words clogging your throat. “oh my god,” you let out a huff, half laugh, half scoff.
a tiny, tentative smile tugs at eddie's lip, but his eyes are still guarded. “you’re not—you, uh, you seem pretty calm. i was bracing myself for a punch or something."
you laugh, shaking your head. in truth, you're anything but calm. your heart is still racing, hands shaking in your lap, but eddie's watching you so hesitantly, like he's waiting for some kind of rejection, and your heart hurts. “eddie,” you say simply, waiting for him to come to the same realization you just had.
he blinks, as if he can't quite believe you're not freaking out or getting angry or worse, rejecting him outright. he swallows hard, his voice comes out raw, “you're… you're really not mad?"
“eddie,” you say again, firmer this time.
he pauses. His expression is cautious, hopeful, but still braced for a blow. his eyes search yours, like he's looking for any hint of mockery or pity or pity or god, anything to indicate that he's been wrong all along, that he's completely misunderstood everything.
you reach out before you can overthink it, resting your hand on his shoulder. he tenses, and you give it a squeeze, “listen to me, alright? i’m not mad, dipshit. i’m like… fuck, eds. the opposite, actually.”
eddie's breath audibly catches, his expression goes from guarded to downright disbelieving in half a second flat, “…what?"
you laugh, nerves and relief bubbling over all at once. he's looking at you like you just told him the sky's purple, it's adorable. “god, you idiot. you really thought i was gonna run for the hills?"
eddie opens his mouth. closes it. opens it again. he looks like he might pass out. “okay, hold on. i—i think we gotta back up here, because i’m not—you’re saying—" he gestures wildly between you both, voice cracking. “the opposite of mad? like, the good opposite?"
“oh my god— come here, you idiot,” you pull him in by his shirt without warning, yanking him towards you over the center console. before he can process what’s happening, your lips are already on his. eddie makes a muffled noise of shock against your mouth, his hands flailing for a second before they finally land on your waist, he melts into you, kissing you back with the kind of enthusiasm that knocks the breath right out of your lungs. it’s messy, a little desperate, and so very eddie. when you finally pull back, just enough to breathe, his eyes are blown wide, pupils dilated. he looks dazed, “holy shit."
you grin, still holding onto his shirt, “yeah, that opposite."
eddie stares at you like he's just been handed the universe. then, slowly, he starts grinning too—that stupid, lopsided grin you've loved since you were kids. “well. fuck."
he’s already pulling you in for another kiss, unable to stop now that he’s started. you laugh into his mouth, slinging your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. the cramped interior of the van vanishes, nothing exists beyond him. his hands are everywhere—in your hair, on your waist, under your shirt. his breath is hot and ragged and all-consuming. he bites your lower lip, and the sound that leaves your mouth is definitely not your normal tone. eddie lets out a low, ragged sigh against your skin.
a shudder runs down your spine, it takes everything within you to pull away again to breathe, you're starting to lose your head, getting swept away in the dizzying rush of his mouth and his hands and the intoxicating way he smells. eddie's eyes are molten when he meets your gaze, and he looks just as gone as you feel. he sucks in a ragged breath, trying to regain composure.
“okay, okay. wait. wait, i had a whole… a whole plan. wait—did you just—i was gonna—i need to—"
“take a breather.”
he exhales shakily, scrubbing a hand over his face. “yeah. yeah, okay,” he laughs, a little breathless. a smile is still tugging at his lips, “just gimme a second, gotta… gather myself. this feels like a dream, or a drug-induced hallucination, or some other batshit nonsense, i dunno."
you snort, poking him in the chest, “or, and hear me out, maybe you're just a disaster who thinks too much."
he gives you a mock-scowl, though it's a little undercut by his flushed cheeks. “shut up,” he knocks a playful punch into your shoulder, “and don't make me laugh when i’m trying to get my heart rate under control. i’m a little busy trying not to die from sheer disbelief here."
you grin, watching as he dramatically drapes an arm over his forehead.
“oh no, whatever will we do if the great munson perishes from emotional whiplash?"
eddie peeks at you from under his arm, grinning back, “probably mourn me appropriately. with like… a pyre made of my battle jackets and a shrine of d&d manuals."
you roll your eyes, shoving him lightly, but he catches your wrist, tugging you closer again. his grin softens into something quieter, “...seriously, though. this is—" he huffs, shaking his head like the words fail him. “you're sure about this?"
you lean in, pressing your forehead against his. his breath hitches. “never been more sure.”
eddie exhales like he's been holding it in for years, “okay. okay."
“we doin’ this?”
he nods slowly, eyes flicking between yours like he's trying to commit you to memory. “yeah. yeah, we're doin' this. we're doing this. i'm… sweetheart, i’ve been wanting this for—well, probably way too long."
you smile, feeling like someone just lit a thousand sparklers in your chest, but because you're you, and you're not sure how to handle serious moments without being a smartass, “are you gonna be a good boyfriend, though?"
eddie gasps, pressing a dramatic hand to his chest like you just shot him. “rude! i'm great at being a boyfriend—i mean, theoretically. hypothetically. in practice, i might suck, but—"
you laugh, kissing him quickly to shut him up. “relax, munson. i'll keep you in line."
he grins against your lips, “promise?"
you pull back just enough to smirk at him, “oh, i guarantee it. now, take me home,” the suggestion in your voice isn’t lost on him.
the corner of eddie's mouth quirks up. his eyes darken with something promising, and he starts the van without looking away. “as you wish," he murmurs, and the words send a shiver racing down your spine.
the drive back to your house is a blur, mostly because eddie seems to be completely incapable of keeping his hands or his eyes off of you for more than a few moments. he drives mostly one-handed, the other hand almost glued to your thigh. he keeps glancing over at you, like he needs a visual reminder that you're really there. it's a quiet, electric kind of energy, like a current just below the surface, buzzing like the world's most perfect secret.
he pulls to a stop in front of your house, cutting the engine. the silence between you is heavy, charged. he's still just watching you, fingers drumming an anxious rhythm on the wheel. then, a slow smile tugs at his lips. “can i ask you something?"
you smirk, one eyebrow raised in faux-suspicion. “is it going to be another 'are you sure'?"
eddie rolls his eyes, “ha. ha. no. shut up and let me be serious for a second."
“‘kay, ask away.”
he fiddles with his rings, taking a deep breath. “before we, you know… go in and make this a whole thing, i just… i have to ask."
when you nod for him to go on, his words come out quieter, cautious. “promise me you're not gonna freak out."
your smile falters. a little of the giddy anticipation fades, replaced by a tiny edge of worry. “uh… yeah, i promise?"
he swallows, the muscle in his jaw flexing. his gaze flickers between you and the steering wheel. he looks more than a little nervous. “okay, so… i just wanna say, up front… i’m not saying this to push you, or to, uh, add pressure, or anything like that. because if you're not ready, if you wanna wait, that's fine, okay? i don't—"
“spit it out, eds. i’m not gonna bite you,” you joke, trying to lighten his nervousness. “unless you want me to.”
his eyes flicker with something dangerous at that, but he quickly clears his throat, trying to stay serious. “right, okay. so—just hear me out."
he shifts in his seat, fingers tapping the wheel. “i, uh… i kind of… might've… bought condoms? a while back?"
you blink. he immediately backtracks like he's just dropped a live grenade into your lap. “like, not—not for this! not that i was expecting it, obviously. i just—you know how my brain is— always jumping ahead, and i just figured, y'know, just in case— is that bad?”
you interrupt him by suddenly laughing, the sound startling him into silence. he stares at you, wide-eyed, "...uh, you good?"
still laughing, you shake your head, “oh my god, eddie. i’m on the pill, doofus.”
eddie's mouth drops open. a beat of silence, "...oh."
then, realization dawns, “wait—so you mean—"
you grin, leaning in close to whisper against his ear, “we're covered, munson. now get your ass inside before i drag you."
eddie lets out a noise that's half-groan, half-laugh. his fingers tighten on the steering wheel for a second, before he abruptly shoves the door open, “yep, we're going. right now."
the moment the front door shuts behind you, eddie’s hands are on your waist, spinning you around to press you against it. his breath is warm against your lips, his voice low, almost teasing, but with an edge of something far more serious underneath.
“just so we're crystal clear here," he murmurs, “i’m not planning on wasting any more time second-guessing this. so if you've got any last-minute objections… now's your chance to say 'em. speak now or forever hold your peace, or whatever.”
you grin, hooking a finger into the collar of his shirt and tugging him even closer, “shut up and kiss me already."
eddie laughs, bright and disbelieving before obliging.
the kiss starts off desperate, pent-up frustration and the dizzying relief of confession crashing together in a way that makes your head spin. his hands are everywhere, in your hair, under your shirt, skimming down to the back of your thighs as he pulls you against him. he backs you across the living room, not breaking the kiss for a second. by the time he finally does pull away, you're both breathing hard. his eyes are dark, lips slightly swollen from the kiss. he grins, “bedroom?"
you can only nod, still trying to catch your breath. he pushes open the door to your room, kicking it shut as he crosses to the bed, setting you down on the edge with a surprising level of gentleness. he stares, for a long beat, eyes tracing over your face like he's still trying to convince himself this is real.
you reach out, tugging him down onto the bed with you. the mattress sinks under your combined weight, and he goes willingly, crawling up to press you back into the pillows without hesitation. he brackets your body, bracing himself over you with shaking forearms as he looks down at you. the look on his face makes your chest ache, all open and wanting and a little bit awed. he's searching your eyes, hands skimming down your sides in a way that makes you shiver.
“jesus, sweetheart," he murmurs, breathless, like he's saying a prayer, praying to the altar of you. “did i ever tell you how goddamn pretty you are? because i swear to god, you make my brain stop working. i just—"
he shakes his head, like he doesn't trust himself to keep talking. his fingers skim underneath the hem of your shirt, warm against your skin as they brush feather-light over your waist. it’s like he's drawing some kind of intricate, invisible design against the dip of your lower back, one that makes your breath catch with every soft touch.
those fingers trail higher, skimming over your ribcage, leaving goosebumps in their wake. his gaze follows the path of his hands almost reverentially, tracing some kind of invisible constellation on the canvas of your skin.
your breath catches at the sight of him—his hair mussed from your fingers, his lips parted as he watches his own hands trace patterns over your skin like he's trying to memorize every inch of you. his eyelashes cast shadows against his flushed cheeks in the dim lighting of your bedroom. he's never looked more real, more yours. his eyes flick up to yours again, and the sheer awe in them steals the air from your lungs.
“fuck," he breathes, shaking his head with a small, disbelieving laugh. “i didn't—i didn’t think it was possible for someone to look at me like that."
his thumb brushes your lower lip, gentle, checking to make sure you're real, that you’re still here with him. all you can do is lean into his touch and whisper, “i always have. you just never noticed.”
eddie's breath stutters. his fingers pause against your lips before sliding tenderly along your jaw, tilting your face up to his. the look in his eyes is almost devastating, something raw and vulnerable and achingly tender.
“well," he murmurs, voice rough with emotion, "guess i’ll just have to spend the rest of my life making up for that, huh?"
he kisses you again, soft this time, slow and deliberate, like he's savoring the way you melt into him, he's got all the time in the world to prove it.
his hands skim over you, gentle but insistent, as he begins to tug at the hem of your shirt. he's still kissing you, open-mouthed, his tongue tracing hot lines past your lips in a way that makes you shiver. he pauses, just for a second, breath ghosting against your skin. “can i…?"
his fingers twitch at the edge of your shirt, not quite pulling it up yet. It takes a moment for your brain to register the question. all you can manage is a shaky nod.
he makes a low noise in the back of his throat, one that sounds like a mix between a growl and a whine. his hands slide under your shirt, lifting the fabric over your head, only breaking the kiss for a moment before his lips are back on yours. you know your skin is flushed pink, and you can't help the way your hips arch up towards him at his touch, and he seems to know it, too—you can feel the smirk growing against your lips as he lets out an amused huff.
“needy," he mutters, low and teasing. it sends a hot jolt down your spine. he grins, shifting to kiss your neck, teeth grazing over your pulse point, “so damn impatient."
“i’ve been more than patient.”
eddie barks out a laugh against your skin—half-breathless, half-disbelieving. his hands slide down to grip your hips, pulling you flush against him as he shifts over you, eyes burning. “oh, trust me, sweetheart," he murmurs, voice rough, “i'm well aware of the torture you've endured." a slow smirk curls his lips, “which is why i plan on making it worth the wait."
he seals the promise with another searing kiss, one that leaves no room for doubt.
eddie traces lazy patterns against your ribs, grinning when you shiver under his touch. he presses his lips to your shoulder, then your collarbone, each kiss lingering a little longer than the last. his voice is a rough whisper against your skin, “wanna know something stupid?"
you tilt your head to look at him better, eyebrows raised, “hm?”
eddie huffs a laugh, the warm puff of air making your skin prickle. his fingertips brush down your side, tracing the curve of your waist as he speaks, “i used to daydream about this," he admits, voice tinged with amusement and something softer. “like, all the time, and every time i’d snap out of it, i'd just think... man, you're pathetic.”
his grin turns lopsided—self-deprecating, but fond. “guess i'm not as pathetic as i thought."
“eh, still are.”
eddie gasps in mock-offense, though the grin splitting his face gives him away. “excuse you—i am a gentleman. a romantic. a—"
you cut him off by rolling him onto his back and climbing over him, pinning his wrists to the mattress with a smirk. eddie’s breath audibly hitches, eyes darkening instantly. you lean down, lips brushing the shell of his ear, “still a total dork."
he grins, unabashed. his eyes rake over your bare torso hungrily, drinking in the sight of you straddling his waist. you shiver under his gaze, and the sound he makes in response shoots straight through you. his voice is a low growl as he bucks a little, testing your grip on his wrists. “you really have no idea how many times i imagined you just like this."
“ballpark?”
eddie laughs, but the sound is strained, his gaze flicking from your lips to where your hips are pressed against his. a flush is starting to creep into his pale cheeks, you can see the heat in his eyes, the way he's breathing a little harder, and still, he's got that cocky edge to his voice, like nothing could shake his composure. “not sure if i should actually admit that," he murmurs, a smirk tugging at his lips. the way he watches you, half-lidded and full of heat, “a lot. definitely a lot."
“yeah?” you lean down, breath ghosting against his ear, “and what did you do? when you thought about it?”
eddie's grip tightens on the sheets. he exhales sharply, his voice dropping into something lower, rougher. “oh, you know," he rasps, tilting his head to give your lips better access to his neck, “the usual, touched myself, thought about this, about you just... takin' what you wanted from me."
he shivers when your teeth graze the spot below his ear, fingers flexing like he wants to reach for you but is forcing himself to stay put. his next words come out as a groan, “pretty sure i came harder than i ever have in my life every damn time."
your hands instinctively down his stomach, trailing warmth to his waistband. you fiddle with his belt without looking, continuing your gentle attack on his neck. after a moment of no progress, you let out an annoyed huff and look down— his belt is held together by safety pins and what looks to be superglue at some sections. “you’ve got to be kidding me. how do you even get out of this thing?”
eddie bursts out laughing—genuine, unfiltered, the sound reverberating through his chest where you're still pressed against him. heprops himself up on his elbows to smirk at you, eyes dancing with amusement.
“ah, yeah. that." he gestures vaguely at the absolute disaster of his belt. “see, the trick is—and this is crucial—you gotta wiggle it just right—"
he’s cut off by your incredulous glare, his grin only widens. “okay, fine, i can help," he relents, fingers moving deftly to undo the absolute catastrophe of a belt buckle. he mutters under his breath as he works, “didn't realize this thing was gonna be such a cockblock."
with a triumphant click and the distinct sound of superglue snapping, the belt finally loosens. he grins up at you, “ta-da.”
“eds, you know i love your… resourcefulness, but holy shit you have to throw that thing away.” your eyes move to the limp belt still stuck in his belt loops, looking like a ball of scraps with metal attached to it.
eddie scoffs, pulling it from his belt loops, and tossing the mangled belt off the bed with zero ceremony. it hits the floor with a clatter, and he gestures dramatically at it like he's banishing it from the room. “there. happy?"
you groan, rolling your eyes and promptly shutting him up by crashing your lips onto his. eddie hums against your mouth, laughing softly into the kiss.
it's a little more impatient that you'd expect, and you can feel the need radiating off of him. the way he grabs at you, the way he's already panting against your mouth like he can't get enough. his hands find your waist again, tugging you even closer until you're pressed against him with no space left in between. his mouth moves over your jaw, teeth skimming along the edge of your jugular as he groans into your skin. it's rough, and messy, and so far beyond perfect that you forget how to breathe.
eddie's fingers fumble at the clasp of your bra, once, twice, before he lets out a frustrated growl against your collarbone.
“jesus christ, who designed this shit?" he mutters, voice muffled against your skin. he huffs, blowing a strand of his own hair out of his face before trying again with renewed determination. you can't help but laugh, even as your breath hitches when his knuckles brush against your ribs. “need help there, rockstar?"
eddie shoots you a glare that's more affection than irritation, cheeks flushed dark with embarrassment and want. his tongue pokes out between his teeth as he finally gets the damn thing unhooked. “there! fuckin'—see? master of engineering."
despite the bravado, the way his breath catches when he finally sees you completely bare makes it all worth it.
eddie just stares dumbstruck for a second, mouth slightly parted, like he’s seeing something holy. his fingers hover over your skin like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he touches you too fast. when he finally speaks, his voice is wrecked, “fuck. you’re—"
he swallows hard, shaking his head like words have officially failed him. with a sudden urgency, his hands are everywhere—pulling you flush against him, lips crashing back to yours with a desperation that makes your head spin. it’s messy and hungry and perfect, his teeth catching your lower lip as he groans.
“christ, i can't believe you're real," he rasps between kisses. “gonna spend the rest of my life making sure you know how fucking beautiful you are."
he's moving down your body now, hands and mouth tracing a hot trail across your skin. his mouth finds your pulse point, feeling your racing heart against his tongue, and he pauses there to press a gentle kiss to the underside of your jaw.
“you have no idea what you do to me," he murmurs, voice ragged, almost reverent. “could spend hours just lookin' at you."
you shiver at the words, arching into his touch, but he's already moving downward again. his mouth moves between your breasts, lips trailing over the sensitive skin.
he flips you back over, settling on top of you to get a better angle. he kisses your ribs, your stomach, his hands roaming across your chest and back, like he's trying to commit every inch of you to memory. it's too much, yet not enough all at the same time. you're burning, every nerve on fire, and every touch has you gasping under his ministrations. he pauses at your hip, just above the waistband of your pants, and you can feel him grinning against your skin as he nips it.
“eager, sweet girl?” his voice is a low purr, “can feel you shiverin' for me."
you scoff, trying to play it cool even as your breath hitches. it's a little pointless, really. he can feel the way your hips tilt up under his touch, seeking more, and that smug bastard just knows it. you'd call him out on it, except he suddenly sucks just a little too hard at the spot on your hip, and the whine that slips past your lips says more than your words ever could.
his eyes darken at the sound, and he grins against your skin a little more deliberately this time—teasing. “you're too damn pretty when you're desperate," he murmurs, nipping at your hip again.
he's taking his time, making you crazy on purpose. his gaze flicks down to your jeans, and he groans, almost involuntarily. “jesus christ, i want these off. like, now."
you're about to protest, to make some smartass comment about him being a brat, when he suddenly grabs the button of your jeans, the sudden tug sending a jolt through you. he pauses, eyes flickering up to yours, like he's seeing just how far you'll let him push it.
“can i?" he whispers, breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of your hip. it's all you can do to nod, a strangled noise escaping your lips, and already he's undoing the buttons, fingers skimming along the waistband.
his hands make quick work of the button and zipper, peeling the denim down your legs with a roughness that borders on desperation. the moment your jeans hit the floor, his breath catches, eyes raking over you with a hunger that makes your skin prickle. eddie lets out a slow exhale, dragging his fingers lightly up your thigh. his voice is wrecked when he speaks, “fuck. look at you."
before you can even process it, he pulls your panties to the side and his mouth is on you, hot and insistent, and every coherent thought evaporates in an instant. his tongue drags a slow, deliberate line up your center, lapping up the wetness that had pooled there, and the strangled sound you make has his grip tightening on your thighs. he glances up through dark lashes, mouth still teasingly close, “that good, huh?" he murmurs against you, voice vibrating right where it drives you wildest.
his smirk is downright sinful. he dives back in with a fervor that makes your fingers tighten in his messy curls. every flick of his tongue is calculated, every hum purposeful, until you're shaking beneath him, gasping his name like a prayer.
eddie doesn't let up, if anything, he doubles down, relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure. his fingers join the mix, curling just so inside of you, and the combined sensation has your thighs trembling around his head. you're barely coherent at this point, a string of breathless curses and his name tumbling from your lips, “f-fuck, eddie—"
he hums in response, the vibrations sending a shockwave through you. his free hand grips your hip hard enough to bruise as he coaxes you closer and closer to the edge, until you're right there, teetering. he pulls back at the last second, leaving you gasping and empty.
“eds," you whine, frustration lacing your voice. he just grins up at you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. his eyes are dark with mischief, and something deeper.
“patience, sweetheart," he teases, voice rough. then, he's crawling back up your body, pressing a filthy kiss to your lips so you can taste yourself on him.
eddie chuckles darkly as he feels your nails dig into his shoulders, his own breath coming in ragged bursts. he leans back enough to rid himself of his jeans and boxers quickly, ungracefully shimmying them off his legs before leaning back over you. his lips ghost over yours, barely touching, just enough to make you chase the contact, before he pulls back just enough to watch your face as he finally sinks into you.
“oh fuck," he grits out, forehead pressing against yours as he pauses to let you adjust. “you feel—god—you feel even better than i ever could’ve imagined."
when he finally starts moving, slow and deep, it's with a reverence that makes your chest ache, like he's trying to memorize every hitch of your breath, every shiver, every way your body responds to his. his fingers thread through yours, pinning your hands above your head as he murmurs against your lips, “all mine.”
the intensity builds, the friction perfect, the rhythm unrelenting. his lips find yours again—slower this time, more tender, as his free hand skims up your side, tracing your curves like he’s trying to brand the memory into his fingertips. every roll of his hips is deliberate, designed to draw out every gasp, every moan, until your nails are raking down his back and you’re both too far gone to hold back.
“look at me," he rasps, voice wrecked. his eyes lock onto yours, dark and burning, as he moves inside you with a roughness that borders on brutalizing. “wanna see you when you come for me."
when you shatter beneath him, his name tumbling from your lips in a breathless cry, eddie follows right after—buried deep, his groan muffled against your neck as he spills into you. he collapses against your chest, both of you panting, skin slick with sweat, hearts pounding in sync. for a long moment, neither of you move, just tangled limbs and quiet breaths. eddie shifts just enough to press a soft kiss to your shoulder, his nose nuzzling against it.
he murmurs something against your skin, too quiet to make out. then, reluctantly, he rolls off of you, collapsing back onto the bed beside you. the loss of contact has your skin prickling, and you shiver as cool air hits your overheated body.
“jesus christ," he pants, breath still ragged. a laugh rumbles through his chest as his eyes flutter shut.
you try to laugh, but can’t quite manage it, limbs loose and heavy in the aftermath of him. there’s a pleasant ache that settles over you, one you’re sure you’ll feel tomorrow. your eyes are just beginning to shut when a thought occurs to you.
“hey,” you murmur, tilting your head to look at him. he opens his eyes to look back at you, and the way his gaze softens when it meets yours has your heart lurching all over again.
his eyes trace over you, hair disheveled, lips swollen, body flushed and marked with the evidence of him, and he looks pretty damn pleased with himself. he props himself up on an elbow, his other hand trailing lightly over your bare stomach.
“yeah?" his voice is soft, his touch almost reverent. he seems so peaceful right now, content for the first time in what might be months. he grins lazily, eyes flickering over you like he's still marveling that this is real, that you're real.
“i… um,” you suddenly feel nervous under his gaze, fingers fiddling with his rings between you as you try to find the words.
he notices the shift in your demeanor immediately—he's always been ridiculously attuned to you, and he frowns slightly. his hand stills against your skin, eyes searching your face.
“everything okay?" his voice is cautious, almost worried. he knows you, better than anyone, knows when something's on your mind. he watches you closely, patient.
“yeah, yeah. I’m good— more than good, actually, you know? i just… fuck, this is like,” you shake your head, closing your eyes to calm yourself before just ripping the bandaid off. “i love you.”
it’s like the words hit him like a punch to the gut. you can see it so clearly, the way his breath catches, his eyes widen, his whole body going still, like he's not sure he heard you right. it takes a moment for his brain to kick back into gear, long enough that you start to panic just a little, and then he's cupping your face in his hands, leaning in to touch his forehead to yours. his voice is gruff when he speaks, soft but thick, cracking just a little on the words, “god," he whispers, “i love you, i love you, i love you.” he peppers your face with quick kisses, his hair tickling your cheeks as he does, causing your anxiety to melt away in a fit of giggles.
eddie's grin is downright radiant, big and goofy and unguarded in a way you rarely see. his hands frame your face, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as he lets out a breathless laugh.
“fuckin' hell," he murmurs, voice shaking just a little with emotion, "was terrified i'd say it first and scare you off." he presses his lips to yours, quick but impossibly tender, before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze again. “love you so much it's stupid.”
“hey, eds?” you say after a moment of soft silence.
he raises an eyebrow, not bothering to hide the grin still tugging at the corners of his mouth. “yeah, sweetheart?"
“we’re gonna be happy, huh?” it’s a call back to your earlier conversation back at his trailer, the night at the arcade, the night he won splat for you, the night everything changed between the two of you.
something shifts in his expression, soft and unbearably fond. he pulls you closer, his arms tightening around you like he can't stand even the smallest distance between you now. his voice is quiet, but sure, no sarcasm, no jokes, just eddie laid completely bare for you.
“yeah," he murmurs against your hair, “yeah, we are. fuckin' better be, after all this buildup."
the moment dissolves into laughter again—because this is how it's always been with him, and how it always will be, sloppy and imperfect and yours.
୨୧˚- pairing: eddie munson x best friend! reader. no use of y/n, reader is occasionally referred to by she/her pronouns.
୨୧˚ -synopsis: you and eddie have been best friends for years, doing everything together. lately, though, things have started to feel different between you two. part two of the picture you series. [1] [2] [3]
୨୧˚- warnings : mutual pining, slow burn best friends to lovers, eventual smut, slight jealousy (on eddie’s part), jason carver being a dick, swearing, mention and use of weed, shared trauma from the events of season 4 (timeline is a bit diff, season 4 took place at the beginning of the ‘86 school year), basically everyone lives au, brief discussion of nightmares, reader comforts eddie, kinda self indulgent on the fluff (happy eddie is a must), slight angst, and so so so much tension. 18+ mdni.
୨୧˚- a/n ; i’ll try and make this quick bc everything else here is so lengthy, thank you so much for the love on chapter one!! i already had this chapter mostly finished, so i was able to get it out fairly quickly (and i was too excited to keep it to myself tbh), but starting now, updates will probably be about once a week depending! tyty everyone <3
୨୧˚- lowercase intended, not edited, 9k+ words.
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: ̗̀➛ listening to ; coming up roses - harry styles
the halls are chaos, same as always, students spilling out of classrooms, locker doors slamming, and mindless chatter in between classes.
eddie expertly navigates the halls, weaving through the sea of letterman jackets and high ponytails. his eyes scan the hall, searching. when his gaze finds your familiar face, he grins, quickening his stride.
he sidesteps a group of freshmen, nearly knocking over some of them in the process, before sliding up beside you with a dramatic flourish.
“miss me?" he teases, bumping your shoulder with his. “splat didn’t give you too much trouble last night, did he?”
his grin is infectious, the morning sunlight catching the glint of his rings as he tucks a wild curl behind his ear. you can still smell the faintest hint of leather and cigarette smoke clinging to his jacket, something distinctly eddie, something that makes your stomach flip.
you roll your eyes, but you can't stop the smirk tugging at your lips. “he cried all night. real tragic, demanded a lullaby. he’s definitely your kid.”
eddie clutches his chest dramatically. “our poor, neglected son." he leans in conspiratorially, lowering his voice to a stage whisper. “tell me it was at least a metal lullaby. please tell me you didn't subject him to, like, madonna or some shit."
his face is so close you can count his freckles, can see the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he's trying not to laugh. you shove him away, but your fingers linger a second too long against the worn fabric of his jacket.
“relax. i went with sabbath."
eddie beams like you just handed him a grammy. “that's my girl," he says without thinking, then freezes. his ears go pink.
you pretend not to notice, but your heart stammers traitorously in your chest. if eddie hears, he doesn’t say anything, just clears his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“so," he says, a little too casually. “you, uh… got plans this weekend?"
you close your locker with a slam of metal on metal, shaking your head. “other than hellfire? just the usual,” you fall into step beside him, headed towards the cafeteria for lunch period. “oh, i do have an interview at the video store. you have robin to thank for that one,” you sound less than enthused.
eddie's eyebrows shoot up, lips curling into a smirk. “whoa, whoa, hold up. buckley got you a job interview?" he nudges you with his elbow, grin widening. “you? behind a counter? voluntarily interacting with customers? what happened to ‘i’d rather eat glass than serve jocks their shitty action movies,’ huh?"
you groan, shoving him sideways into a row of lockers, but he just laughs, dodging easily and throwing an arm around your shoulders. “relax, doll. think of it this way, now you can hide all the good flicks in the back before carver and his goons even get a chance to rent ‘em."
his voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, “corporate sabotage. very metal."
you snort, but can't fight the smile tugging at your lips. it's stupid, this whole conversation is stupid, pointless, meaningless, but you can't help the warmth spreading through your chest. it's easy with eddie, too easy.
“corporate sabotage, huh? sounds more up your alley than mine.”
“me? a bad influence? never," he protests. “i'm the pinnacle of innocence. i've never done a single dishonest thing in my damn life."
you swat him on the arm, trying not to laugh. "right, and i’m gonna be nominated for prom queen this year."
he grins, eyes dancing with mischief, then his gaze snags on something over your shoulder, smile faltering.
“uh-oh," he mutters. “brace yourself."
you follow his eye line, jason carver cuts a path through the crowded hallway, flanked by his usual band of jocks.
his gaze lands on you, and of course he notices how close you and eddie are walking, of course he frowns, jaw tight, of course he nudges his friends, calling out to eddie mockingly.
“hey, munson. shouldn't your girlfriend be out in the woods somewhere? casting spells and sacrificing chickens, or whatever it is you freaks do in your free time.”
eddie stiffens beside you, his hand twitching like he wants to hit him, but he hesitates. instead, he leans in closer to you, voice big and theatrical, “careful, carver. she does know some spells." he flicks his fingers toward jason mockingly. “one wrong word and poof, your hairline recedes even further."
jason’s face flushes slightly red, but before he can retort, you lean into eddie’s side and add with a sweet smile, “and for the record? i don’t sacrifice chickens,” you pause. "goats, on the other hand..."
jason blinks in quiet shock, and eddie beams at you like you just won the damn lottery.
“that’s my girl," he says, bolder now, loud enough for everyone to hear, before steering you away from jason with a flourish.
by the time you reach the cafeteria, you're buzzing. every nerve in your body is alive, hyper-aware of eddie's fingers against your shoulder, the warmth of his arm around your shoulders, the way your hip bumps his as you walk. you shove down the feeling, forcing a smirk like nothing's different, as if you're not replaying his voice—“my girl"— in your head like a broken record.
the second you push through the cafeteria doors, eddie drops his arm, suddenly remembering where you are, who’s watching, but his fingers linger for a split second, brushing against the back of your jacket like he can’t quite let go.
jason’s voice still rings in your ears, girlfriend, and your pulse kicks up again, traitorous, hopeful.
eddie clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “so uh, video store interview, huh? when’s that?" his tone’s casual, but his eyes dart to yours like he’s searching for something.
you shrug, trying to play it cool. “saturday. robin said to ‘dress like a functioning member of society,’ so…" you gesture vaguely at your outfit, ripped jeans, battered boots, one of eddie’s old band tees you stole years ago and never gave back.
eddie huffs out a laugh, “good luck with that." then, quieter, more sincere, “but hey… you’ll kill it."
his smile is small, genuine, the kind that makes your stomach swoop. you open your mouth to reply, but—
“munson! quit flirting and get over here!" gareth’s voice cuts across the cafeteria, accompanied by the clatter of dustin dramatically slamming his lunch tray down onto the hellfire table.
eddie rolls his eyes, but there’s no real annoyance in it. “duty calls," he sighs, jerking his thumb toward them, but he hesitates, biting his lip. "you… coming?"
it’s a silly question, like you’d ever sit anywhere else, but you nudge his shoulder with yours anyway, grinning. “try and stop me."
eddie’s answering smile could power hawkins for a year.
lunch passes in a blur of chaotic debates, gareth insists aliens built the pyramids, dustin’s voice cracks mid-rant about star wars lore, and eddie steals fries off your tray with zero remorse. but every now and then, when the noise fades to background static, you catch him watching you — quick glances, the hint of a smirk when you roll your eyes at the idiots surrounding you, your own little kingdom of freaks and outcasts.
the bell rings too soon. eddie lingers as the others scatter, slinging his bag over his shoulder with deliberate slowness.
“so," he starts, rocking back on his heels. “saturday. you want, uh… moral support? before the interview?" he fiddles with one of his rings, avoiding your eyes. “could swing by your place, help you not look like you rob graves in your free time."
the joke’s weak, but the the offer isn’t. you bite your lip to hide the grin threatening to split your face. “are you saying my aesthetic isn’t professional?"
eddie meets your gaze dead-on, suddenly serious. “sweetheart, you duct-taped your boot back together last week."
you gasp, “that was an emergency! the sole was—"
he interrupts you by reaching out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “say yes," he murmurs.
your breath hitches. his fingers linger near your jaw, calloused and warm.
"...yes," you whisper.
for an instant, a flicker of surprise crosses his face, like even he didn’t expect the answer. then he smiles, soft and slow.“great." there’s a pause. he rubs his neck, suddenly nervous. “i’ll be there. saturday. four…-ish?"
you nod, your heart pounding too hard in your chest. "four," you confirm, and try not to think about the way his fingers feel against your skin.
the rest of the week passes quickly, classes blend together, teachers' voices droning in the background while your mind keeps drifting to saturday, to eddie’s promise. to the way his hands hesitated near you like he wanted to reach out and never let go.
saturday afternoon finds you sprawled on your bedroom floor, surrounded by discarded clothes. your usual ripped jeans and band tees litter the carpet, nothing screams ‘hire me’ less than your usual style. you groan, flopping backward onto the mess.
“this is impossible," you mutter to splat, who watches judgmentally from your pillow. “what are you lookin’ at?”
a sharp knock at your door makes you jump. before you can answer, it swings open, revealing eddie, leaning against the frame with a smirk. his eyes rake over the chaos.
“damn," he whistles. “you do own clothes that aren’t black. who knew?"
you throw a sock at him. “shut up. help me."
eddie steps inside, kicking the door shut behind him. he picks through your disaster of an outfit pile with exaggerated concentration before holding up a dark green sweater, one you forgot you even owned.
“here," he says, tossing it at you. “pair it with those almost clean jeans. boom. ‘functioning member of society.’"
you catch the sweater, wrinkling your nose. “this is so boring."
eddie grins, crouching beside you. “yeah, well. play the game now, burn the place down later,” he nudges your knee with his. “you got this, sweetheart.”
the nickname sends a familiar warmth through you. you hug the sweater to your chest, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.
“thanks," you mumble.
eddie’s quiet for a beat. then, softly, “anytime."
you shove the sweater over your head, the fabric settling awkwardly against your skin, too soft, too normal. eddie watches with an unreadable expression as you turn to check yourself in the mirror, frowning at the reflection staring back.
“i look like a librarian," you groan, plucking at the collar like it's personally offended you.
eddie's laugh is sudden and bright as he steps up behind you, his hands landing on your shoulders, warm through the fabric. his gaze meets yours in the mirror, eyes dancing with amusement.
“nah," he murmurs, tugging lightly on the sleeve of your sweater to straighten it. “you look... good.”
there's something in his voice that makes your stomach flip, something uncharacteristically soft and unguarded that wasn't there before. his fingers linger for a second too long before he clears his throat and steps back, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“alright, let's go before you chicken out," he teases, already heading for the door, but you catch the faint pink at the tips of his ears before he turns away.
the interview goes shockingly well. robin vouches for you hard, the manager seems too tired to care about your usual ‘aesthetic rebellion,’ and by the end, you’re scribbling your availability on a crumpled napkin like some kind of responsible adult.
eddie’s waiting outside when you emerge, leaning against the side of the building with a cigarette dangling from his lips. he straightens when he sees you, blowing smoke to the side.
“so?" he asks, trying, and failing to sound casual.
you hold up the hastily scribbled sticky note with your new schedule on it, “you’re looking at hawkins video’s newest nightmare."
eddie’s face splits into that wild, unfiltered smile you love, the one that makes him look seventeen instead of someone who’s seen too much. he crushes his cigarette under his boot and pulls you into a one-armed hug before you can react, his voice muffled against your hair, “knew you’d nail it."
as he lets go, too soon, always too soon, you catch the way his fingers flex at his side, like he’s stopping himself from reaching back.
the ride back to your house is quiet, filled with the hum of the radio and the steady thrum of eddie’s fingers against the steering wheel as he drives. every now and then, he glances at you out of the corner of his eye like he wants to say something, but the words stick in his throat.
you chew your thumbnail, looking out the window, resisting the urge to fidget with the sleeves of your new-old sweater. you wonder if eddie can hear your heartbeat thumping in the silence.
he pulls up in front of your trailer, killing the engine. the quiet stretches between you, almost awkward in a way that it never was. eddie drums his fingers on the wheel once, twice, before turning to face you fully, reaching into his pocket for something you can’t see yet.
“so," he starts, voice rough around the edges. “celebratory smoke?" he holds up a joint between two fingers with a lopsided grin.
you should say no. you have homework. your mom will be home soon. a dozen reasons flash through your mind.
instead, you reach for it. “only if you don't hog it this time."
eddie's laugh is startled, delighted. he leans across you to pop open the glove compartment to rifle around for a lighter, close enough that his hair brushes your cheek, close enough that you catch the faded smell of his leather jacket, scented with weed and cheap cologne.
when he pulls back, his eyes catch yours. just for a second. just long enough to make your pulse skip.
the joint burns slow between your fingers, smoke curling into the twilight air as you pass it back to eddie. his fingertips brush yours, just barely, and the contact lingers, warm against your skin. he takes a long drag, exhaling towards the van’s roof with a contented sigh, tilting his head back against the seat. the seat creaks softly underneath him as he adjusts, his eyes finding yours instinctively, as if he could feel yours on him already. you swallow thickly, watching the way his adam’s apple bobs slightly in his throat.
“so," he murmurs, voice roughened by the smoke, “first paycheck comes in, you're buying me lunch at benny's, right?"
you grin, nudging his arm with your elbow. “pretty sure you owe me lunch for all the times you've mooched fries off me."
eddie clutches his chest in mock offense. “mooched? that’s harsh, sweetheart.” but he’s smiling as he says it, eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you know means he’s trying not to laugh.
the joint dwindles between you, the ash glowing orange in the dim light. when it’s finally down to the filter, eddie flicks it out the window and turns to face you fully, suddenly serious.
“hey," he says softly, “proud of you, y’know."
your breath catches. his expression is so open, so unguarded, the way he only ever is with you. you swallow hard and look away before you do something stupid, like pull him closer.
“yeah, well," you mutter, “don’t get used to it. still planning my corporate takeover from within."
eddie laughs, loud and sudden, and something in your chest cracks open at the sound.
for a moment it feels almost easy again. eddie, the streetlamps flickering on, the smoke almost fully dissipated by now. it feels normal; like you can ignore the way your breath catches when he smiles, as if you're not holding onto the ragged edge of something that could break you both.
then he glances at his watch and his expression softens. the air changes. “i guess i should go. don't think your mom would appreciate the town freak loitering in her driveway on a school night."
“oh, come on. you know she tolerates you,” you joke back, your fingers moving to the door handle but not quite pulling yet.
eddie smirks, leaning back in his seat with exaggerated ease, but his knuckles whiten slightly where they grip the steering wheel. “tolerates. what a glowing endorsement."
he flicks his gaze toward you, mischief creeping back in. “guess that means i’m still banned from sunday dinners, huh?"
you roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder lightly, your hand lingers just a second too long on the worn leather of his jacket. eddie notices, his breath hitches almost imperceptibly.
“only if you show up wearing that judas priest shirt with the sleeves ripped off again," you deadpan.
then eddie clears his throat and leans over, reaching across you, “forgot to unlock it,” he mutters, his arm brushing yours as he pops the door open for you.
the night air is cool against your skin compared to the warmth of the car as you step out, shoving your hands into your pockets to avoid the temptation of climbing back in, to be with him a bit longer.
“thanks for the ride," you say, kicking at the dirt.
“anytime," eddie says quietly.
you force a smile that doesn't reach your eyes, trying to ignore the disappointment sinking in your chest as you shut the door, speaking through the cracked window. “i’ll see you.”
he nods, his eyes lingering on your face for a second too long. “later, sweetheart.”
eddie pulls away with one last wave, the car disappearing just down the street.
you linger on the porch for a moment, the silence closing around you like a cocoon. you shake your head, shoving away the tangle of thoughts churning in your mind. it’s just eddie, you remind yourself. just your best friend. not your boyfriend. not some unattainable fantasy. just eddie.
just eddie, who always gets under your skin and never stays close enough to touch.
inside, the trailer feels too big. too empty. you tug off the stupid green sweater and throw it onto your bed, where splat sits judging you with his button eyes, a physical reminder of eddie, of what you couldn’t have.
“shut up,” you mutter, flopping down next to him.
the clock ticks, your neighbor’s dog barks. you close your eyes and pray for sleep. it doesn't come.
hours later, you toss and turn in a tangle of sheets, trying to find some way to shut your brain off, but your thoughts keep circling back to eddie; his laugh, his smile, his eyes the way they get when he’s teasing you, and your heart pounds against your ribs with each memory.
you run an annoyed hand through your hair, it mussed from shifting against the pillow all night. you feel utterly idiotic, like some dumb cliche in those teen movies you and eddie hate.
“god, what is wrong with me?” you sigh, your voice quiet as your fingers fiddle with a loose green thread hanging off of splat. you pull at it quickly, attempting to be rid of it. instead, it continues to unravel, more thread wrapping your fingers; this is like us, you think. us? stupid.
the phone on your bedside table rings suddenly, jolting you out of your spiraling. you grab it off the receiver, fingers still wrapped in the green thread. “hello?” you reply groggily into the phone.
eddie's voice crackles through the receiver, low and gravelly. you catch yourself sitting up straighter.
“did i wake you?"
you shake your head, despite the fact he can't see you. “no," you say, trying to sound like your heart isn't hammering in your chest. “just... couldn't sleep."
there's a pause on the other end of the line. he asks quietly, “nightmare?"
“you could call it that, i guess.” your fingers absentmindedly begin twirling the green thread again as you reply, your other hand keeping the phone held up to your ear.
his voice drops impossibly soft, it almost feels like he’s in the room with you, “that bad, huh?"
you can picture him running a hand through his messy hair, frowning at no one in particular. your fingers tug too hard at the green thread, unraveling it a little more, not trusting your voice to be convincing in your white lie.
it's quiet for a second, like he's thinking carefully about what to say. “you wanna hear something funny?”
you smile faintly, despite the tension in your chest. “hit me.”
eddie clears his throat dramatically, like he's about to deliver some grand performance. “okay, so, what do you call a fish wearing a bowtie?"
you groan, “eddie, that's literally the oldest—"
he cuts you off, voice brimming with fake offense. “ah-ah-ah! let the master work!" then, with a terrible attempt at a posh accent, “sofishticated."
the silence on your end is deafening. eddie waits exactly three seconds before bursting into laughter, the kind that makes him wheeze a little at the end.
“you hate me right now," he gasps between chuckles. “i can feel it through the phone."
and god help you, you're smiling, actually smiling, despite the fact it's the dumbest joke in existence.
you glance down at the green thread still tangled around your fingers, looser now, less suffocating. “shut up," you mumble, but you both know you mean to say thank you.
eddie’s laughter settles into a quiet hum, the line crackling with static between you. for a moment, neither of you speaks, just the sound of his breath and yours, steadying in tandem. then he sighs, his voice dropping into something quieter, more sincere.
“seriously though,” he murmurs, “if the nightmare was real bad… i got my van.” a beat. “could be there in five… four if i run the stop sign.”
it’s late and you should probably just go to bed, but your chest aches with something tender and raw, and suddenly all you can think is, “which stop sign?”
eddie huffs a laugh. “the one by mrs. andrews’ mailbox. you know she hates when i-“
you cut him off, “come over.”
a pause. the line goes so quiet you think maybe the call dropped. then, “yeah?” his voice is rough, hopeful. “you sure?”
you glance at splat, at the unraveled green thread pooled in your lap. “yeah,” you whisper. “hurry up.”
the line goes dead, only leaving a soft hum in the absence of his voice. you put the phone back onto the receiver, the green thread now limp in your fingers, finally detached. the silence of the trailer feels heavier now, anticipation crackling under your skin. you count the minutes in your head, listening for the familiar rumble of his van.
one.
you notice your palms are weirdly sweaty.
two.
a car door slams outside.
three.
knuckles rap against your window, soft, trying not to wake your mom in the other room.
four.
you yank the curtains aside. eddie’s standing there, hair wild from he wind, cheeks flushed from sprinting across your lawn in the cold. he grins when he sees you, crooked and bright, breath fogging the glass as he leans in closer.
“told ya," he mouths through the window, "four minutes."
eddie tumbles through the window with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, landing with a thump on your bedroom floor, knocking over a stack of cassettes in the process. he freezes mid-step, wincing at the clatter.
“shit—"
you clap a hand over your mouth to stifle your laugh as he frantically gestures for silence, eyes darting toward your closed door. when no angry footsteps come, he exhales dramatically and flops onto your bed beside, limbs sprawling like he owns the place.
“so," he whispers, propping his head up on one elbow, "wanna tell me about this nightmare, or do i gotta guess?" his tone is light, but his eyes are serious, dark and searching in the dim glow of your bedside lamp.
you swallow hard. the thread is gone, but the weight of it lingers between you. eddie waits. patient. always patient with you. you lay down beside him, pulling the comforter over the two of you.
outside, the wind rattles the trailer park streetlights. inside, his knee brushes yours under the blankets, warm and solid and probably crossing some kind of line.
“just the usual," you finally mumble. your fingers find the blanket hem, nervously fiddling with it.
eddie nods. he reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, a gesture so gentle it makes your breath catch. his eyes hold yours, steady in the dim light. “you know that stuff isn't real, right?"
you take a shaky breath, shaking your head. “feels real," you admit.
eddie's expression softens further, like he can sense the things you aren't saying, the double meaning in your words. his hand lingers near your face, so close you can feel the heat of him, hovering in the narrow space between you.
“wanna know something stupid?" he asks quietly.
you nod, not trusting your voice.
eddie exhales sharply, almost like a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “i get ‘em too,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. “not the…the vecna shit, not anymore, but… other stuff. the kinda stuff that sticks around even when you’re awake.” his thumb brushes your cheekbone, feather-light. “you never look at me like i’m crazy when i talk about it. that’s… that’s why i called. ‘cause i figured if anyone gets it…”
he trails off, eyes darting over your face like he’s seeing it for the first time. the confession hangs between you, raw and terrifying and so painfully eddie it makes your ribs ache.
“that’s not stupid, eds.”
he swallows, throat bobbing. his gaze snaps to yours like he'd forgotten you could hear him.
“thanks, but i mean, it kinda is a little." he clears his throat, suddenly sheepish. “i just… it’s bullshit, isn't it? i can beat the hell out of monsters, but i can’t shut my brain off at night? kinda pathetic when you think about it.” he offers up a half-smile that doesn't quite cover the vulnerability in his eyes.
“it’s not,” you shift a bit closer, laying your head on the pillow and rolling onto your side to face him. your faces are now just inches apart, you can feel his warm breath fanning your lips on every exhale. “you’ve seen shit that most people our age can’t even imagine. you’re brave, eds. always have been… even without the monsters.”
eddie's breath hitches, just barely, at the nickname, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips and back again. he doesn’t pull away, voice barely above a whisper when he answers, “brave, huh?" a smirk tugs at his mouth, but it's softer now, less defensive.
“could say the same about you, y'know. if we're handing out compliments tonight."
his fingers twitch against the pillow near your head like he wants to touch you but isn’t sure he’s allowed. the air between you hums with something electric, fragile, like the moment before a guitar string snaps.
“how so?”
he blinks for a second, the sudden closeness is throwing his thoughts off kilter, but he keeps your gaze, unwavering. “you're not scared, ever. you fight the whole damn world without even realizing it, and it's… it's pretty badass, y'know?"
your heart pounds in your ears, the heat rolling off eddie's body making you dizzy, as if you're standing too close to an open flame. you lean forward, just a tiny fraction.
“i’m scared a lot of the time, actually,” you admit quietly, eyes scanning his face in the dim light of your room.
eddie lets out an exhale like you just punched him in the ribs, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced with something softer, more serious.
“but you keep going," he says, voice low and rough. “when most people would have given up or run for the hills, you keep going. that's bravery, sweetheart, even if you don't think so. that's who you are."
you snort, “funny. i just copy you.”
that makes him pause. he shakes his head, something like wonder flashing across his face in the half-light.
“you give me too much credit." he wets his lips, eyes flickering between your mouth and your gaze like he can't decide which to focus on. “i'm not as fearless as you think i am."
“someone has to give you your flowers. god knows you’ll never do it yourself.”
he huffs, but you catch the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth, the same one that appears whenever you tease him. “who died and made you the flower-giver?"
it's a defense, you know that, a deflection, a way to play off how your words affect him so he never has to be vulnerable first.
your voice comes out barely above a whisper, but he’s so close he catches it anyway. “fate, maybe? if you believe in that stuff, anyway.”
eddie goes very still, eyes searching your face for a moment that feels like an eternity. his expression crumbles into something like disbelief.
“you don't honestly believe in that garbage, do you?" he lets out a low, disbelieving huff. “it's just a bunch of cosmic nonsense, sweetheart. no fate, no destiny. just chaos and luck and shitty timing." his tone is harsher than usual, bordering on bitter.
“maybe you’re right… but i can’t help but think,” you pause, exhaling shakily. “what if, you know? all of this feels like more than coincidence, doesn’t it?”
eddie's jaw tightens. his gaze flicks away from yours, your words are a hit he can't bring himself to dodge.
“so… what? we’re just pawns in some big show, some pre-ordained path? bullshit.” he lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. the movement sends his hair tumbling into his eyes as he looks back at you.
“what's the point, then? if everything's already been decided?"
his voice is rough, cracking around the edges. you wish you could take the words back, rewind the moment and not bring up something that clearly hits too close to home.
“eddie—" you start, but he shakes his head, sitting up.
“it's bullshit," he cuts you off. “the thought that there's no control, that no matter what i do… my life's already laid out, start to finish,” his hands flex against the sheets.
you sit up too, reaching for his hand before he can pull away completely. “eds, i didn't mean—"
he doesn't jerk away, but his fingers stay stiff in your grip. “then what did you mean?" his voice is quiet now, but the frustration still simmers beneath it.
you swallow hard. the words feel too big, too fragile to say out loud, but you owe him this honesty.
“i just meant…" you trace the calluses on his knuckles, guitar strings, fight scars, years of survival etched into his skin. "...that out of all the uncertainty, all the ‘chaos and the shitty timing’… i still found you. don’t know where i’d be if i hadn’t.”
the silence between you is thick. eddie stares at your joined hands like he's trying to decipher a riddle. then, slowly, still unsure, his fingers tighten around yours.
eddie exhales sharply, his grip almost painful in its intensity. his eyes flick up to meet yours, raw, unguarded, stripped of every sarcastic defense he usually wears like armor. “yeah," he rasps. “me too."
he doesn’t elaborate. he doesn’t need to. the words settle between you like an oath, like something sacred. his thumb brushes over your knuckles, once, twice, before he pulls his hand away with a shaky breath.
the air between you crackles with years of the unspoken. eddie leans back against your headboard, raking a hand through his hair as if trying to physically shake off the weight of the moment.
“christ," he mutters, voice rough with something like awe or terror or both. “we’re a pair, aren’t we?"
you lean back beside him, staring straight ahead at the wall. “yeah, guess so.”
he shifts next to you, close enough that his shoulder brushes yours. the silence stretches, but it’s not uncomfortable. it’s the kind of quiet that only exists between people who know each other down to their bones.
eddie nudges your knee with his. “still think we'd find each other in any universe?" he asks, voice laced with faux-casualness. as if it’s a joke; like it doesn’t matter, but you know him better than that.
you lean your head on his shoulder, voice coming out unsure, “feels like we already have.”
eddie inhales so sharply you think he might have stopped breathing. for a second you think he's going to pull away, or shove you lightly and mutter some sarcastic reply to deflect the moment, but instead, your best friend, your person, leans into you gently, his head resting on top of yours.
“y'know what’s stupid?" he says after a moment. his voice is uncharacteristically soft, the words whispered into the dark like a confession.
“hm?” you hum softly, fingers absentmindedly tracing the black ink popping out from underneath his shirt collar.
“every time i think i’ve got this life figured out, something comes along and proves me wrong." eddie shifts beside you, one knee coming up to rest against your thigh. he seems to be choosing his words carefully, a rare moment of vulnerability from the boy that hides behind jokes.
“like… there's this part of me that expects to wake up someday and this, all of this, is just some kind of dream. some cosmic joke being played on me because… because people like me aren't allowed to have this, right? this… peace. happiness. whatever."
he sighs in frustration, clearly having been thinking about this for a while.
you lift your head just enough to look at him, his face so close in the dim light that you can see every unguarded flicker of emotion, the way his lips press together, the quiet frustration in his brow. you reach up without thinking, brushing a loose curl from his forehead with your fingers.
“people like you?" you murmur, holding his gaze. “you mean people who are brave, and kind, and stupidly good at making other people feel like they matter? to those kids, you’re a hero, and you don’t even realize it. henderson practically idolizes you.”
eddie's breath hitches. his fingers twitch against the blanket between you, wanting to touch, but still not allowing himself.
“that's not—" he starts, but then stops when your thumb grazes his cheekbone. his voice drops to a whisper, “sweetheart..."
it sounds like a surrender.
“i'm not brave." he shakes his head slightly, eyes fixed on your hand against his skin. his jaw clenches. “and i’m not some kind of hero. i’m a third-year senior with a genetic unlucky streak, at best. at worst I'm a—"
“don't," you murmur, your thumb brushing just beneath his eyelashes. he blinks, eyes going impossibly soft. “don't call yourself that. god, eds, i can't stand when you do that. don’t downplay all the shit you’ve been through just so you don’t have to talk about it.”
eddie’s breath stutters. he reaches up to curl his fingers around your wrist, not pushing you away, not pulling you closer, just holding you there, needing you to anchor him in the moment. his pulse thrums wildly under your fingertips.
“fine," he whispers. “but you don't get to call me a hero either. deal?"
his voice is rough, but there’s a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, trying to wrestle back some control, some semblance of the usual eddie, but his thumb strokes absently over the inside of your wrist, betraying him.
“can i think it?” you joke half-heartedly, trying to lighten the mood.
eddie groans, pressing his forehead against yours dramatically, but he doesn’t pull away. his nose bumps against yours, breath warm as he grumbles, “ugh, fine. just…don't expect me to start wearing a cape or some shit." he tilts his head slightly, smirking. “unless it's leather. then maybe."
just like that, the tension shatters because this is eddie, and this is you, and no matter how heavy things get, he’ll always find a way to make you laugh.
“nah, you’re more of a suit of armor kinda guy,” you joke, barely able to get through the sentence without laughing, picturing eddie clanking around in creaky metal, trying his best to stay upright under the weight.
eddie gasps, clutching his chest like you’ve mortally wounded him. “excuse you, i’d be a rogue, obviously. leather armor, daggers, maybe a cloak for dramatic effect,” he gestures wildly, nearly smacking you in the face before catching himself.
you burst out laughing, trying your best to stifle it with your hand while shoving his shoulder. he grins, victorious. the sound fills the quiet trailer, bouncing off the walls like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
eddie leans back against the headboard, watching you with an expression so soft it makes your stomach flip. “there she is," he murmurs. he doesn’t have to say it, you already know— his girl. you realize with sudden, terrifying clarity, that you’d follow him anywhere.
you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling so wide your face hurts. eddie studies your expression for a second before suddenly leaning in close, close enough that you can see all the little flecks of gold in his eyes, the soft yellow lighting from the lamp bouncing off of his irises.
"...you’re blushing," he whispers, delighted.
you shove him again, harder this time, and he topples sideways onto the bed with a dramatic yelp, pulling you down with him in a tangle of limbs and laughter. he just holds you there, not wanting to let go so soon.
“you staying?” you say after a few moments of silence, shifting more onto your side of the bed.
eddie looks at you like you just asked the dumbest question on earth, raising an eyebrow. “uh, yeah?" he tugs you a little closer, throwing an arm around your waist to pull you back towards him.
“night, eds.” you reach to turn off the lamp beside your bed, settling back against him.
he smiles against your neck, his breath warm on your skin. “night, sweetheart."
you let your eyes flutter shut, listening to the wind outside, the rise and fall of his chest.
right as you're drifting off, you feel a gentle touch against your hair.
“you awake?" eddie whispers in the dark.
you hum sleepily, shifting a little closer under his arm. “hm?”
he hesitates for a second, his fingers still tangled in your hair. his voice comes out softer than you’ve ever heard him, “thanks for… y’know. not letting me spiral.”
it’s the quietest admission you’ve ever heard from him. before you can respond, he shifts, pulling the blanket over both of you and rolling over to face the wall.
you stare at his back, the rise and fall of his shoulders. you could reach out and touch him, tell him he doesn’t have to thank you, that you’d always be there.
you don’t, because he knows. he’s always known.
you lay there in the darkness, listening to him breathe. wishing, for a single selfish second, that words alone could be enough. that in the silence of the trailer, the weight of unspoken things could disappear.
his breathing evens out slowly, the tension in his shoulders unspooling as sleep finally takes him. you watch the way the moonlight cuts across his profile, the sharp line of his nose, the curve of his lips, the dark flutter of his lashes against his cheeks. he shifts onto his back, messy curls splaying across your pillow.
and then, because you’re weak, because you’re selfish, because you’ve always been a little in love with him, you reach out. just once. just to brush your fingertips against the back of his hand where it now rests over his stomach. his fingers twitch in his sleep, curling slightly toward yours.
you close your eyes, but sleep doesn’t come. the night stretches on.
outside, the wind hums through the gaps in the trailer walls, a quiet, familiar lullaby. the faint glow of streetlight bleeds through your curtains, painting gold across eddie's collarbone where his shirt has slipped askew and you have to stop yourself from running your fingers over it. you memorize the way his pulse jumps under his skin when your fingers skim his wrist.
“eddie," you whisper to the dark, just to taste his name on your tongue. he doesn’t stir, but in his sleep, his pinky hooks around yours, keeping you close.
sunlight spills through the gaps in your curtains, painting stripes of gold across the tangled blankets and the still-sleeping boy beside you. eddie’s face is half-buried in your pillow, mouth slightly open, one arm flung out around your waist, where it had stayed all night. his hair is an absolute disaster, curls sticking up at odd angles.
you’re frozen, suddenly hyper-aware of every point of contact, his knee knocking against yours under the sheets, the warmth of his palm pressed flat against your ribs. you should move. you should wake him up, but for one stolen moment, you let yourself linger, memorizing the weight of him, the quiet rasp of his breathing. his nose scrunches slightly, as if feeling your attention on him even in sleep, a soft groan escaping him as he stirs.
"...mmph. time’s it?" he mumbles into the pillow, voice thick with sleep.
you glance over at the clock on your wall, “almost ten.”
eddie groans, finally opening one eye at you. “ten? really? why didn't you wake me, dickhead?"
he pokes you in the ribs, not hard, just enough to make you jump. you swat at his hand, biting back a grin. “you just looked so peaceful.”
he gives you a halfhearted glare, but there's no real heat behind it. he drags himself up onto one elbow, scrubbing a hand through his sleep-mussed curls.
“that's a shitty excuse, sweetheart.” but he glances away, cheeks flushed, lips twitching.
“didn’t say it was a good one.”
eddie huffs, but he doesn't move away, just flops back onto your pillow, one arm thrown dramatically over his eyes.
“you're lucky you're cute," he mutters, muffled by his sleeve.
you both freeze, effectively stunned. the air between you goes electric with the weight of the words neither of you were supposed to say out loud. somewhere outside, a car backfires, effectively shattering the moment.
you clear your throat, attempting to move on without a hitch. “you mind driving me to work today? first day of corporate hell, can’t be late.”
eddie sits up too quickly, nearly knocking heads with you. “oh shit, yeah, today's the day you sell your soul to the man, huh?" he grins, clearly relieved by the subject change.
he scrambles off the bed, already halfway to the door before you can process him leaving your side. just like that, the moment passes, but the ghost of his warmth lingers on your skin long after he's gone.
as eddie disappears down the hall towards the bathroom, you collapse back onto the mattress, your pulse still hammering against your ribs. you press your palms to your face, inhaling shakily.
“fuck," you whisper to the empty room.
then you hear the sound of a door opening and shut, followed by the unmistakable noise of the shower turning on. which gives you an idea. a stupid idea. an absolutely terrible idea.
you stare at the bathroom door, the bathroom where eddie is currently standing under the spray in your shower.
your heart lurches, but not in the way you expected. the thought should thrill you, should make your pulse race. instead, something cold and sick twists in your stomach, your heart stuttering for a different reason entirely.
“fuck," you mutter again, rolling onto your side and curling into yourself.
because this isn't just some flirty game anymore. this is eddie. your best friend, and you're not about to ruin that for a stupid fantasy
the shower shuts off after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all. you hear eddie humming, some off-key metallica riff, as he pads back toward your room. you squeeze your eyes shut, pretending to be asleep when the door creaks open.
“sweetheart, you awake?” he whispers. when you don't respond, he sighs, voice softening. “alright, sleeping beauty. five more minutes."
his fingers brush your shoulder, light as a breath, before he pulls away.
you wait until he shuts the bathroom door again before finally sitting up, exhaling slowly. you can do this, things don't have to change. you can ignore the way your heart stutters every time he looks at you. you have to.
when eddie reappears, hair still damp, he takes one look at your face and stops dead in the doorway.
“jesus,” he says quietly. “you look like someone kicked your dog."
“just first day jitters,” it sounds like a lie, even to you.
he eyes you skeptically from across the room, not buying it. “uh huh. that why you're sitting there like someone pissed in your cheerios instead of getting dressed?"
you try forcing a smile, it doesn't reach your eyes. “maybe”
you shove yourself off the bed before you can say something stupid. “we’re gonna be late,” you say, avoiding his gaze as you search your floor for anything you can throw on.
“right, yeah,” he clears his throat, grabbing his jacket off the floor. “let’s roll.”
the drive to your new job is filled with music, eddie’s familiar mix of metallica and black sabbath blasting through the speakers, but the usual comfort of it feels distant today. you stare out the window, your knee bouncing restlessly.
eddie glances over at you, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “you sure you’re good?”
you nod, forcing another smile. “yeah. just… thinking.”
he doesn’t push, just turns the music up louder, filling the silence between you with something easier than words.
when he pulls into the parking lot of the video store, he shifts in his seat to face you, grinning. “aright, corporate warrior. try not to let ‘em break your spirit on day one.”
you roll your eyes but can’t help the real smile that tugs at your lips. “thanks for the pep talk.”
eddie’s grin softens, just for a second, before he reaches over and ruffles your hair. “go get ‘em, tiger.”
you take a deep breath and step out of the car, glancing back once to see eddie still watching you through the windshield. he waits until you’re safely inside the family video before driving away.
the bell dings cheerfully as you enter, spotting robin immediately behind the counter. her face lights up in excitement when she catches sight of you, “thank god, i totally thought you were gonna bail.”
you manage a laugh, shoving your hands into your pockets. “sorry. overslept." not technically a lie.
robin arches a brow, leaning forward on the counter with a smirk. “and by 'overslept,' you mean…?"
“that i overslept,” you reply back quickly, already agitated at what you know she’s implying. steve appears from the back room, dropping her a fresh family video vest on the counter.
steve squints at you, then at robin, then back at you again. “wait, hold up, were you guys talking about—"
robin smacks him in the chest with the back of her hand before he can finish. “no! nope. no we were not."
steve rubs his sternum, looking deeply offended. “jesus, fine." he tosses the vest your way. “just saying, if you were talking about munson, i have insider info. that's all."
robin kicks him behind the counter, earning a slight wince from him.
you stiffen, the mention of eddie sending a familiar jolt through you. you force a laugh, trying to play it cool. “oh yeah? enlighten me."
steve leans on the counter on his forearms, voice lowering conspiratorially. “well, i heard from henderson, who heard from brian, who heard from gareth, that a certain someone doesn’t want you working here. with me.”
you blink, processing.
“what?" your voice comes out sharper than intended, earning a surprised look from steve.
robin kicks him again, harder this time. steve yelps.
“i'm just the messenger!" he hisses at her, before turning back to you with a wince. “look, don't shoot me, i'm just repeating what i heard."
your pulse thrums in your ears. you can picture the scene so clearly, eddie pacing his trailer, grumbling to gareth about you working with steve harrington of all people. it’s ridiculous. it’s… possessive.
you swallow hard, schooling your expression into something neutral. “yeah, well. tell henderson, and gareth, and brian, to mind their own business."
robin shoots steve a warning look. “hey, steve, why don't you go start the returns?"
“what, why?" steve looks between you with a frown.
“just go, dingus,” she says, rolling her eyes at his inability to read the room.
he looks like he wants to protest, but finally throws his hands up in defeat. “fine, whatever. i'll go do the boring manual labor."
he disappears into the back room, still grumbling to himself, leaving you and robin in awkward silence for a moment.
she clears her throat awkwardly. you stare determinedly out the window at a car driving past.
finally, she lets out a huff. “can i be honest?" here it comes.
“you might as well." you mutter.
she leans forward, bracing her elbows on the counter. “look, you know i love munson. the guy's a total weirdo, but in like, a good way, you know?"
you nod slowly, waiting for the rest of it.
robin exhales sharply, raking a hand through her hair. “but this? him getting all bent out of shape about you working here? that's bullshit." her voice drops lower, glancing toward the back to make sure steve isn't listening. “you don't belong to him. you get to make your own choices, and if he can't handle that—"
she cuts herself off, shaking her head. “just… don't let him scare you off from something you wanna do, okay?"
the words land heavy in your chest. because she's right, but it's not that simple, not when the thought of disappointing eddie makes your stomach twist into knots.
before you can respond, the bell above the door chimes. you and robin end up, thankfully, interrupted by a customer. your first day goes by in a bit of a blur, robin trains you on rewinding the tapes, and you pretend like there’s not a pit in your stomach.
the neon family video sign flickers as you clock out, stepping into the dim parking lot. eddie’s van idles near the curb, exhaust curling into the cool night air. he’s leaning against the driver’s side door, arms crossed, cigarette dangling from his lips. the glow of the ember illuminates his sharp features when he spots you.
“told you i’d pick you up," he calls, grinning.
your stomach flips, equal parts irritation and something warmer, something treacherous. you shove your hands in your pockets and walk toward him. “yeah, yeah. just don’t make a habit of lurking outside my job like some kinda stalker."
eddie scoffs, flicking ash onto the pavement. “please. if i was lurking, you wouldn’t have seen me.” he pushes off the van, swinging the passenger door open with a dramatic flourish. “m’lady.”
you roll your eyes, climbing into the passenger seat. “oh, so you have an appropriate amount of stalker-like tendencies. that’s comforting."
“hey, stalking implies there’s some element of subtlety. that’s not my thing," he protests, starting the engine and cranking the a/c. the van rumbles to life, filling the air with the familiar sound of black sabbath’s war pigs.
eddie turns the volume down slightly, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he pulls out of the parking lot. he keeps glancing at you out of the corner of his eye like he wants to say something, but can't quite find the words, continuing the dance that had become your new normal almost overnight.
finally, he clears his throat. “so, how was the first day?”
“it was fine," you say, staring out the window as hawkins blurs past. “steve and robin are... they're nice."
eddie stiffens almost imperceptibly beside you. “yeah, nice," he mutters under his breath, grip tightening on the wheel.
the silence between you grows heavier.
you glance over at him, taking in the set of his jawline, the way his bangs shadow his eyes just a bit. “you’re mad," you say, more of an observation than a question.
he huffs, eyes fixed on the road. “i’m not mad."
“eddie." you give him a sharp sidelong glance. he sighs, shoulders slumping a little. “fine, alright. yeah. i'm mad."
“mad at me?”
“no," he snaps, “not at you."
you watch him warily. “then who?"
“steve."
ah. “why?"
“because… i don’t know, alright?" he exclaims. “he just pisses me off."
“i thought you guys were cool after, y’know, everything?” you don’t need to specify, you were all there those few short months ago; the demobats, the upside down, all the things you’d both rather forget.
eddie scoffs, fingers tightening around the wheel. “we are cool. doesn't mean i gotta like the guy hovering around you all day."
you blink at him. "...what?"
he grimaces, realizing what he just said. the van slows at a red light, and he finally turns to look at you, really look at you, his expression caught between frustration and something far more vulnerable.
“look, i don’t—" he cuts himself off, jaw working. “forget it."
the light turns green. eddie exhales sharply and hits the gas. neither of you speak the rest of the way to your house.
when he pulls up to your trailer, the silence between you feels like a living thing, heavy and tense. eddie doesn’t turn the engine off, doesn’t look at you, just drums his fingers against the wheel like he’s waiting for something, like maybe he wants you to break first.
you unbuckle your seatbelt, hesitating before grabbing the door handle. “thanks for the ride,” you mutter.
eddie nods stiffly. “yeah. no problem.”
you should get out, go inside and let this, whatever this is, fizzle out like every other almost-argument you’ve ever had, but something stops you. you sit frozen. maybe it’s the way his knuckles are white around the steering wheel. maybe it’s the way he hasn’t looked at you once since that red light, or maybe it’s the way your chest aches at the thought of leaving things like this.
you take a deep breath. “eddie—”
he cuts you off with a sharp laugh, finally turning to face you. his eyes are dark, unreadable. “what? what do you want me to say?”
you swallow hard. you don’t know. that’s the problem.
the silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating. finally, eddie sighs, running a hand through his hair. “just… go inside, alright? i’ll see you tomorrow.”
it’s a dismissal. a gentle one, but a dismissal all the same. you nod stiffly, mimicking his previous actions and push the door open, stepping out into the cool night air. the van doesn’t pull away until you’re safely inside, the sound of the engine fading into the distance as you lean back against your front door, exhaling shakily.
something has shifted between you tonight. you’re not sure what it means yet, only that nothing will ever be quite the same again.
୨୧˚- pairing: eddie munson x best friend! reader. no use of y/n, reader is occasionally referred to by she/her pronouns.
୨୧˚- synopsis: you and eddie have been best friends for years, doing everything together. lately, though, things have started to feel different between you two. [1] [2] [3]
୨୧˚- warnings: slow burn best friends to lovers, no smut in this chapter but i have plans for the future hehe, mutual pining (they’re oblivious), light swearing, use of nicknames (sweetheart, babe, sunshine), maybe slight oc eddie, reader is basically female eddie, 18+ mdni.
୨୧˚- a/n: thank you for reading!! i’m currently working on a part two for this as i’m planning on making it a series! i should have chapter 2 up within the next few days! if you like this, please consider reading my other works or sending an ask <3
୨୧˚- lowercase intended, not edited, 7k+ words.
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: ̗̀➛ listening to ; picture you - chappell roan
eddie, sprawled out on his bed, stared up at the popcorn ceiling as metallica’s ride the lightning lowly filled the room. his bedroom was a chaotic mess of old comic books, empty coke cans, and dirty clothes. with a dramatic sigh, his eyes wandered to the clock on his nightstand. it was already nearing four pm, you were usually over by now.
you barge into his room moments later, not even bothering to knock. you have your eyes covered by your hand just in case, there had been a few times over the years where you’d seen something you didn’t need to, things that stuck with you despite your attempts to forget them. “you decent?”
eddie jolts slightly at the sudden intrusion but immediately relaxes when he hears your voice. he props himself up on his elbows, grinning as he watches you cautiously enter with your hand blocking your vision.
“oh come on, when have I ever been decent?" he laughs, tossing a crumpled-up sock at you. “yeah, yeah, I'm good. no horror shows today, promise. unless you count my laundry pile, that's pretty scary."
he rolls onto his side, gesturing dramatically at the mess around him before patting the space next to him on the bed. “what’s up, sunshine? you look like you’re on a mission."
you uncover your eyes, plopping down beside him on the bed like you owned the place, which at this point, you basically did. there wasn’t anything eddie wouldn’t let you do.
“i got keith from the arcade to promise me free tokens if i pretended to be his girlfriend for like, an hour for his weirdo friends. didn’t i tell you about that?”
eddie chuckles softly, shaking his head as you flop down on the bed. he can't help but find it amusing how comfortable you always were in his space, claiming it as your own and never looking back. he nods appreciatively at your scheme, knowing first hand how keith can be.
“you did tell me about that, yeah," he says, grinning widely. “and i have to say, genius move, sweetheart. getting free tokens and toying with keith’s emotions all in one go, that’s what I call multitasking."
he leans in closer, playful smirk intact. “so, how long’s this little ‘relationship’ gonna last? Just till keith’s ego inflates enough, or are we talking full-on arcade royalty status?"
“dude, no. it was a one and done deal.” you scrunch your nose up in mock-disgust, keith wasn’t the worst ever, but he certainly wasn’t what you would consider a good time.
eddie clutches his chest dramatically, rolling onto his back with a loud gasp.
“sweetheart! you heartbreaker!" he throws an arm over his forehead like some swooning victorian heroine. “poor keith’s probably out there right now, sobbing into his pac-man machine, wondering where it all went wrong. did he not score enough for you? was his joystick technique lacking?"
he peeks at her from under his arm, grinning. “at least tell me you got, like, a ludicrous amount of tokens out of it, enough to bankrupt the whole arcade economy.”
“guess you’ll have to come with and find out for yourself, huh?”
eddie raises an eyebrow, instantly perking up at the invitation. he sits up, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“you had me at ‘free shit,’” he exclaims. he jumps off the bed and begins rummaging through his closet. “give me ten minutes to make myself mildly presentable, and then we’re out of here.”
“gonna need more than ten minutes, babe.” you used that nickname frequently for all your friends, but he couldn’t help but feel a slight flutter in his stomach every time it was directed at him.
eddie freezes mid-shirt-grab, turning to glare at you, though the effect is ruined by the pink tinge creeping up his neck.
“excuse you," he huffs, tossing the shirt over his shoulder dramatically. “i’ll have you know my natural charm transcends hygiene, but fine, fine, twenty minutes, max… and only because i refuse to let keith think he’s competition."
he starts aggressively shrugging his leather jacket over his band tee, grumbling playfully. “‘babe,’ my ass. next thing i know, you’ll be trading me for tokens."
“i’d trade you for less than tokens.”
eddie clutches his chest, feigning hurt.
“ouch, sweetheart. that one stung. can you remind me why we’re still friends, again?” he playfully glares at you, but his eyes betray a hint of affection. he throws on his faded denim vest over his jacket and rummages through the pockets for his wallet and keys.
“hm, because you love me and you’d be nothing without my friendship? or something like that.” you respond, a cute grin plastered across your face. this teasing, the lightheartedness, it had always been so comfortable between you two.
eddie rolls his eyes affectionately, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “yeah, something like that, i guess." he finally locates his keys and wallet on the nightstand, shoving them into his jacket pockets before turning to you. you’re sprawled out casually on his bed, and for a moment, he can't help but appreciate the scene, the familiarity of your dynamic, the way you just seem to fit perfectly in his space.
“alright, alright. let’s go bankrupt this arcade, shall we?" he gestures towards the door. “after you, oh token queen."
you laugh at the voice he puts on, hopping down from the bed and leading him down the short hall to the front door. “hey, you know if buckley’s working today? might stop in for a sec to see her, if that’s cool.”
eddie shakes his head as he opens the door for you, his hand instinctively finding its way to the small of your back as you step out of the trailer.
“beats me, but i wouldn't be surprised. that girl practically lives in there."
his gaze travels to you as you make your way to his van, his tone returning to its usual teasing tone, eddie never being one to stay serious for long. “trying to snag a rental deal from your favorite video clerk, huh? i see how it is."
“believe it or not, eds, i do have other friends,” you shoot back playfully.
“say it ain't so!" he gasps, eyes wide and comically pained. “you mean to tell me i’m not the center of your universe? i’m crushed. devastated, even." he makes a show of swooning, pretending to collapse against the side of his van with his hand on his forehead.
“dork,” you can’t ever seem to hide your smile when he’s around. climbing into your seat in the passenger side, you immediately starts rifling through his tape collection, which is fittingly a bunch of cassettes thrown haphazardly into an old shoebox that he kept in the van.
eddie watches you with a mixture of amusement and mock annoyance as you start going through his tapes. he slides into the driver's seat, shaking his head fondly.
“you know, you could always ask before digging through a man's personal belongings. it’s called respect," he says, though there's no real sharpness to his tone.
he glances sidelong at the shoebox you’re flipping through and can't help but feel a twinge of affection. you were the only person he'd let get away with that, you both knew it.
you glance up, narrowing your eyes in his direction. “since when do you have boundaries?”
eddie snorts as he starts the van, the engine roaring to life with its usual cacophony.
“fair point," he concedes, flashing you a grin. “guess i should just be grateful you're not tossing 'em out the window this time,” he shakes his head, remembering past instances where you’d dramatically ejected tapes mid-drive because you 'couldn't handle another minute of that whiny-ass guitar solo.'
he leans over, nudging her shoulder playfully. “just don't lose my black sabbath tape again. took me three weeks to find it last time, turns out it was under your seat, you little gremlin."
“it’s your fault for feeding me after midnight,” you joke with a slight smirk, popping whatever metallica tape he had in the van’s cassette player out and replacing it with a dio one you picked from the shoebox.
eddie groans dramatically as you swap out his tape, though he can't help but feel a flicker of affection at your choice of replacement. dio was his second favorite after all, and the fact that you knew that felt oddly endearing.
“you have no respect for the classics, you know that? 'master of puppets’ was revolutionary, a masterpiece of thrash metal, and you just... tossed it aside like yesterday's garbage." he mock-pouts, his tone entirely playful.
“and we’ve heard it a million times by now. broaden your horizons, my friend.”
eddie can't argue with that, so he huffs in faux-irritation instead. “fine, fine. have it your way, musical tyrant."
he looks over at you, unable to keep the smirk off his face. “but i get to choose next, alright? can’t have you hogging all the airtime.”
he reaches over, messing up your already tousled hair playfully before turning his attention back to the road.
once eddie pulls into the arcade parking lot, you hop out of the passenger side, already making your way to the family video in the shared lot.
“i’ll meet you over there, get my tokens from keith pleaseeee,” you call out from where you now stand on the sidewalk. eddie leans out the driver’s side window, squinting after your retreating form.
“oh, so now i’m just your token-fetching lackey?" he calls, shaking his head but already stepping out of the van. he shoves his hands in his pockets, shouting after you, “fine, but if keith tries to bond with me over his ‘broken heart,’ i’m charging you emotional labor fees!"
with a dramatic sigh, he turns toward the arcade, muttering under his breath with a grin, “little menace, i swear.”
the bell above the door at family video dings when you enter, moving straight to the counter where steve harrington sits rewinding tapes, looking bored out of his mind.
“harrington, buckley in today?” you ask, leaning on your forearms on the counter.
steve glances up from the rewinding machine, flashing you his trademark ‘king steve’ smirk, though it’s lost some of its old cockiness over the years. he leans back in his chair, arms crossing.
“munson’s better half graces us with her presence," he drawls, nodding toward the horror section. “robin’s wrestling with the vhs display. again. pretty sure ‘poltergeist’ is eating her alive as we speak."
he eyes you with playful suspicion. “you here to actually rent something this time, or just to corrupt my employees with your… questionable tastes?" he gestures vaguely at your outfit, grunge-chic, complete with a homemade hellfire t-shirt.
“okay, rude, and after i’ve been nothing but nice to you.”
steve snorts, rolling his eyes affectionately.
“oh sure, you're a dream,” he counters, sarcasm dripping from his words. “you and munson, terrorizing this town since middle school. real angels, the both of you."
his smirk softens a bit as he glances over at the horror section again, seeing a flash of robin's shoe disappearing behind a shelf.
“seriously though, she's back there somewhere… probably buried in a pile of tapes by now."
“thanks, harrington! a pleasure, as always,” you scurry off to the horror section, catching a glimpse of the messy bun of wild hair pulled up on robin’s head. as you round the shelves into the horror section, you find robin with tapes scattered around her, doing her best to re-alphabetize them all.
“hey, sunshine. you look absolutely thrilled to be here.”
“oh yeah, i’m having a grand ole time over here," robin replies wryly, sarcasm dripping from her tone. “just living the dream, trapped in a sea of movies. it’s the life i always wanted. why are you here?”
“stealing you, it’s arcade night. harrington gave you the go ahead to leave early.” steve’s voice carries from where he still sits behind the counter, “did not!”
robin perks up at that, the prospect of skipping the rest of her shift lifting her spirits already. you just shake your head at steve’s response, signaling for robin to ignore him. robin starts gathering her things quickly before steve can stop her, stuffing her vest under the counter and booking it towards where you wait at the door.
“i could kiss you for that,” she pauses, looking you over with a smirk. “nice shirt, by the way.”
your eyes narrow slightly at her last comment. “you’re still on this?” you didn’t have to specify what you meant, robin had been trying to tell you that eddie was obsessed with you since like, middle school, though, you never paid it any mind. you were friends, nothing more, nothing less.
you push open the door, walking ahead to the arcade as robin follows suit. “i mean, seriously, rob. you know it’s not like that.”
robin grins slyly, raising an eyebrow at your reaction. she knows exactly what button to press to get under her friend's skin.
“oh come on. you can deny it all you want, but the shirt speaks for itself." robin teases, gesturing at the obvious hellfire club logo on the shirt. “he might as well have embroidered 'property of munson' on the back."
she steps closer, nudging you playfully.
“face it, you two are practically attached at the hip."
you roll your eyes, your tone dripping with sarcasm, “oh, you mean the shirt that everyone in the club wears? super telling, you got me. and besides, we’re best friends, so what if we hang out all the time?”
robin rolls her eyes dramatically, throwing her hands up in mock surrender.
“sure, sure. whatever helps you sleep at night," she says, her smirk widening. “just know that everyone else sees it. you two are basically hawkins' most obvious slow-burn romance."
once you two enter the arcade, the lights are bright, draping the room in neon while sounds of various games fill the air. eddie's leaning against the ms. pac-man machine, waiting for you. his eyes light up as he spots you and robin approaching. he straightens up, pushing himself off the machine with a lazy grin.
“hey there, trouble,” he greets, nodding at robin before his gaze shifts to focus on you, as it always did.
you subconsciously move right to his side, tucking yourself against him easily, right in between him and the machine.
eddie tenses slightly when you slide into the space beside him, close, too close, but he doesn't move away. instead, he adjusts his arm almost instinctively, letting it drape loosely over your shoulders in a familiar, possessive gesture.
“got your tokens," he murmurs, shaking the paper cup of arcade coins in front of your face before pressing it into your hands. “keith looked devastated, by the way. you monster."
his smirk is playful, but there's something softer in the way his fingers linger against yours as he passes the cup, brief, almost unnoticeable, but robin notices it. of course she does.
“oh yeah? well, if you’re interested, i heard he’s newly single.”
eddie snorts loudly, pulling you closer against his side in a playful half-hug, though his grip lingers just a second too long to be casual.
“hard pass," he drawls, wrinkling his nose. “unless we're talking about stealing his high score on dragon's lair, then maybe i’ll consider it."
he leans down slightly, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper just for you: “besides, i have standards, and they start and end with not smelling like stale nacho cheese."
you hum in response, a smile curling your lips, “hey, look at you with standards. i’m proud of you, never thought i’d see the day.”
eddie lets out another snort, giving you a playful nudge.
"ah, you know me," he says with a shrug.
he stops abruptly, eyes lighting up as he spots the rows of pinball machines a few feet away.
“hey, you think they fixed that one with the busted tilt yet?" he asks, already starting toward the machines. he glances back at you, raising an eyebrow when he sees you and robin already following. “bet i can beat your record on medieval madness."
“oh, please. you wish," you fire back, tossing a token at him, deliberately missing his head by inches. “remember the last time you tried? you literally flipped the machine; the attendant still glares at you."
robin snickers, falling into step beside you. “yeah, munson. maybe stick to games that don’t involve your temper."
“the disrespect in this arcade is unreal, truly,” he responds dramatically, but he’s already slotting the token in, rolling up his sleeves with exaggerated determination. “prepare to bow before the pinball king."
you lean against the pinball machine, watching eddie with an amused smirk as he jabs at the flipper buttons with unnecessary aggression.
“careful, your majesty," you tease, “wouldn't want another royal meltdown."
robin cackles from beside you as eddie's ball immediately drains between the flippers. he slaps the machine dramatically, earning a harsh look from the older woman whose job it was to ‘respect the machines’ or whatever it was that she yelled at him last time.
“rigged! this is bullshit—"
you laugh, shaking your head as you step in to take your turn. you drop in a token with practiced ease, fingers hovering over the buttons. “watch and learn, munson."
the machine lights up as you send the first ball flying, settling into a rhythm, smooth, calculated, effortlessly racking up points. eddie watches, arms crossed, but there's no hiding the proud grin tugging at his lips.
“yeah, yeah...show-off."
robin glances between you two, shaking her head. "hopeless."
eddie leans his elbows on the machine beside you, chin propped in his hands as he watches you effortlessly rack up points. his grin is equal parts exasperated and awed.
“okay, seriously, when did you get so good at this?" he huffs, nudging your shoulder with his own. “are you secretly training at, like, arcade boot camp while i sleep? is there a pinball dojo i don’t know about?"
robin, meanwhile, has already started wandering off to the concessions counter, calling over her shoulder: “give it up, munson! you’re never gonna beat her!"
eddie flips her off half-heartedly, but his attention snaps back to you as you nail a perfect combo, the machine erupting in flashing lights and fanfare, lighting up your features. he whistles low under his breath.
“alright, that’s it. i’m officially demoting myself to cheerleader." he throws an arm around your shoulders, shaking you lightly as he whoops, “go, sweetheart, go! destroy the capitalist machine!"
his laughter rings loud and bright over the arcade chaos, untamed, unguarded, utterly, stupidly happy.
"capitalist machine?" you snort, still focused on the game but leaning slightly into his side, close enough that you can feel the rumble of his laughter. “real revolutionary of you."
the ball finally drains, your score flashing high above the leaderboard. you turn your head just enough to meet his gaze, smirk sharp. “and now you wanna cheer for me? where was this energy when i was wiping the floor with you?"
eddie opens his mouth to retort, but robin suddenly reappears, tossing a handful of popcorn at them both.
“get a room," she deadpans, jerking a thumb toward the skee-ball lanes. “i’m stealing your tokens for actual competition."
eddie flips her off again, but his arm hasn’t moved from around your shoulders. "jealousy’s ugly, buckley!"
you just laugh, nudging him toward the lanes, “c’mon, cheerleader. let’s go whoop some ass in skee-ball."
you fall into an easy rhythm as you take your places at the skee-ball lanes, your banter flowing as effortlessly as your throws. your focus darts between the targets, your aim steady and precise. eddie’s right behind you, his tongue caught between his lips as he tosses balls into the higher-scoring slots, and somehow, accidentally hitting the ones near yours every single time. why he chose to team up with you instead of choosing his own lane, you’d never know.
you roll your eyes, turning to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “you do know this isn’t team skee-ball, right? you don't have to hog my targets."
“oops," he drawls, the picture of innocence, but his smirk says otherwise. he steps closer, leaning over your shoulder as he lines up his throw. “my fault, guess my aim just tends to...drift sometimes."
his voice is low, tinged with a hint of mischief as he casually rests his chin on your shoulder, close enough that you can feel his breath, hot against your ear. a strange rush of something warm and unexpected flutters in your stomach, but you ignore it, focusing on your throw and purposely hitting the lowest slot.
eddie straightens abruptly, blinking at the measly points you just scored. “the hell was that?" he demands, gesturing at the board like you’ve personally just betrayed him. “you were literally hitting the 50-point slot five seconds ago… did my presence short-circuit your motor skills or something?"
robin, mid-throw from the next lane over, cackles. “oh my god, you two are insufferable."
you just shrug, suddenly very interested in examining your chipping nail polish. “hm? must be losing my touch."
eddie squints at you suspiciously, then, like a switch flipping, grins, slinging an arm around your neck and tugging you into a noogie. “bullshit, you’re tanking to make me look better. admit it."
you yelp, shoving at him, but he doesn’t let go, just laughs, bright and unrestrained, and suddenly the arcade feels ten degrees warmer.
“i am not tanking, you paranoid lunatic—" you’re laughing as you try to push him off, but his grip is too tight, and you both devolve into a brief scuffle right there in the middle of the lanes, your breathless laughter echoing off the cheap plastic surrounding you.
you finally manage to break free, backing away before he can grab you again. “stop it, you weirdo! i’m winning this game!"
“like hell you are,” he smirks, already loading up another throw. “i see right through your tactics, sweetheart."
you roll your eyes, shaking your head as you line up your own shot, but you’re struggling not to smile, the warmth from earlier creeping back up your neck, spreading through your body. “you've seen right through me, genius. i guess it was inevitable."
you throw effortlessly, the ball landing perfectly in the 100-point slot. you turn to him, eyebrow quirked, and can't help a little triumphant grin, “what was that about my motor skills?"
eddie throws his hands up dramatically, the remaining tokens in the cup jingling as he staggers back like he's been shot.
“betrayal! sabotage! you were playing mind games this whole time!"
robin watches the show, too distracted by eddie’s dramatized loss to notice her own game ending. “you realize normal people just play skee-ball, right? without the dramatic monologues?"
eddie groans at robin’s teasing without looking at her, eyes locked on you, challenging, bright, alight with that competitive spark you know so well. “alright, hotshot. best two out of three. no holding back this time."
he steps up to the lane beside you, shoulder brushing yours deliberately as he drops his token in. the machine lights up, casting his grin in neon.
and for once, you don’t mind losing, not when it means watching him celebrate like an over-caffeinated puppy, not when his laughter drowns out the arcade chaos, not when his hand finds yours after, tugging you toward the next game like he'd forget you if he let go.
soon after, the two of you find yourselves leaning over a brightly colored claw machine, various stuffed animals scattered about inside. you watch as eddie fishes around in his cup for more tokens, you were already running low. “god, you don’t have to keep playing these scams, you know," you protest, “they rig them so you can't win."
he just grins, dropping another token into the machine with a dismissive wave. “oh, ye of little faith. i’m gonna win you something, even if it takes all night."
eddie jams the joystick with excessive force, tongue poking out in concentration as he maneuvers the claw over a particularly goofy-looking stuffed frog, “c'mon, c'mon..."
the claw drops, snags the frog, lifts—
“yes! ha!" eddie smacks the glass triumphantly as the frog tumbles into the chute. "undefeated champion of bullshit arcade games, baby!"
he bends to retrieve his prize, shoving it proudly into your hands. “for you, m'lady. a majestic frog... prince? whatever. it's ugly as hell, just like you." his smirk softens, just for a second, as his fingers brush yours. “…told you i’d get you something."
“thanks, loser,” you turn the stuffed frog over in your hands, grinning down at his silly little face. “i’m naming him ‘splat.’”
eddie raises an eyebrow, feigned outrage flashing across his face. “splat? splat?" he shakes his head vehemently, as if personally offended by the choice. “we can't name our son splat. that's a horrible name, sweetheart. we have to make it cool, something badass."
he ponders for a moment, stroking his chin dramatically, and you can't help but laugh, anticipating the ridiculousness.
“how about...gargantua? that sounds, i dunno, epic, right? and it suits his...uniqueness.”
you hold up the frog to his face, ignoring his idea for a name change, and tilt your head a bit to get a better look at them. “he has your eyes.”
eddie squints at the frog, then down at you with faux-offense. “he does not have my eyes," he insists, but his protests are half-hearted at best. he can’t keep the smile off his face.
he takes the frog from you, inspecting it with exaggerated seriousness, turning it every which way with a thoughtful hum. then, suddenly, “actually, yeah, i see it. he’s totally got my eyes.”
“that roadkill stare.”
he steps back, dramatically cradling splat against his shoulder. “don't worry, kid. i'll protect you from your cruel, vicious mother."
you roll your eyes, but you can't hide the amused smirk tugging at your lips, especially when eddie whispers to the frog, “yeah, she's mean, but we love her anyway."
you laugh, shaking your head, you’re trying to keep her expression neutral, but eddie’s antics make it impossible. you reach out to snatch splat back from him.
“yeah, yeah, keep mocking me. just remember," you wiggle the frog between you two. “he’s your legacy now."
robin, who’s been watching this whole interaction with an exasperated but fond expression, tosses her hands up. “i’m getting a soda. when you two are done with… whatever this is, meet me at dig dug."
eddie salutes her with a grin, then turns back to you, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “so, where does splat sleep? my place or yours?"
you shove him lightly, but you’re still grinning. “oh, he’s definitely your problem."
eddie clutches splat to his chest, gasping in mock horror. “you’d abandon your own child? cold. ice cold."
and as he throws an arm around your shoulders, frog squished between you, laughter bouncing off neon-lit walls—it feels, for once, like something more than just friendship. something neither of you dare to name yet.
after robin gets her soda, you all three meet back up at the dig dug machine. you get there slightly before eddie, sliding in next to robin right as she loses. she groans in annoyance at yet again not being able to beat keith’s high score, backing up to give you a try at it. you jokingly put splat over the controls, grinning over at eddie. “look, eds, baby’s first dig dug.”
eddie’s entire face lights up, his grin splitting ear-to-ear, eyes crinkling at the corners, as he watches you press splat's tiny frog hands against the dig dug joystick. his heart does something dangerously close to a backflip.
“oh my god," he breathes, voice thick with fake awe, “he's a natural. look at him go!"
he crouches down next to the machine, pointing at the screen like an overenthusiastic parent at a little league game. “see that, robin? that’s my boy! he’s got the vision!”
robin, mid-sip of her soda, nearly chokes. “you two are disgusting,” she wheezes, but she's grinning too.
you’re still laughing, fingers curled around splat's little arms as you ‘help’ him play, and eddie can't tear his eyes away. the arcade lights catch in your hair, your smile bright enough to outshine every pixel on the screen. his chest starts to feel weirdly tight, almost painful.
eddie leans against the dig dug machine, trying to hide his smile in his sleeve, but he can't help his shoulders shaking with the force of his suppressed laughter as the game flashes ‘game over’ on the screen.
“oh man, too bad," he drawls, a mock-sympathetic tut to his tone as he ruffles splat's froggy head. “better luck next time, kid."
you glance at him, the ghost of a grin still on your lips. “he's got potential, though, he was really feeling the rhythm for a second there."
he nods solemnly, pressing a dramatic hand to his chest. “the raw talent is undeniable. maybe he takes after his old man."
robin groans, tossing her now empty soda cup at them. “i’m gonna lose my mind if i have to witness this frog parenting arc any longer."
eddie catches the cup mid-air, grinning. “sorry, buckley. you’re stuck with us and our emotionally complex amphibian son."
you nudge him with your elbow, but you don’t argue, just begin adjusting splat’s lopsided limbs with exaggerated care, as if he’s a prized heirloom. eddie watches, chest warm, and thinks that this might be the best night he’s ever had.
the arcade lights flicker as the three of them fall into an easy rhythm. robin groaning at eddie’s terrible dig dug skills, you loudly coaching splat through another doomed game, eddie stealing sips of your soda when you’re not looking. the tokens dwindle, the scores climb (or don’t), and somewhere between the neon glow and the sound of quarters rattling in the change machine, eddie realizes—
“shit," he mutters, glancing at his watch. “wayne’s gonna kill me. i was supposed to help him fix the damn water heater like two hours ago."
you laugh, adjusting splat’s floppy arm around your shoulder like a proud parent. “tell him it was an emergency. parent-teacher conference for splat.”
eddie snorts, but he’s already reaching for his jacket, fishing his keys from the pocket. he hesitates, glancing at you and robin. “you guys good to get home? i can drop you—"
robin waves him off. “please, go. before your uncle grounds you or whatever."
you shift the frog toy to one arm, nudging eddie toward the door. “yeah, yeah, get out of here. splat and i will be fine."
eddie lingers for a second, just long enough to flick the frog’s ear and grin at you, something soft and unreadable in his expression. “take care of our kid," he teases, backing toward the exit. “i’ll see you tomorrow."
and then he’s gone, ducking out into the cool hawkins night, but the arcade feels warmer, somehow, even after he leaves. you look down at splat’s lopsided face and roll your eyes affectionately.
robin sighs, leaning against the machine. “you’re welcome, by the way."
you blink, “for what?"
robin just smirks, popping another token into dig dug. “for not mentioning how obvious you two are—"
“don’t.”
robin’s smirk sharpens, she knows she touched a nerve. “what? in denial?" she asks casually, focused on the game, but you know there’s nothing casual about it.
you roll your eyes, fidgeting with splat’s ears. “we’re just…friends. always have been. that’s it." but your words sound weak, even to your own ears, and robin shoots you a knowing look, one eyebrow raised, “you trying to convince me or yourself?”
you exhale sharply through your nose, refusing to dignify that with an answer. instead, you turn the frog’s dopey face toward robin like a tiny, fabric jury.
“splat agrees with me," you declare, petulant, stubborn, entirely unconvincing. “right, buddy?"
robin doesn’t even glance at the frog, just keeps playing the game, her smirk audible in her voice: “mmhmm, real convincing when you’re using a stuffed animal as your wingman."
you chuck a stray token at her, which robin easily dodges, cackling, and splat, ever the silent observer, says nothing. though, if he could talk, you doubt he’d back you up anyway, there was no denying the presence of something between you and eddie tonight, whenever it may mean. “i’m going home. come on, son, let’s get outta here.”
robin watches as you hurry past her, splat clutched to your chest. she shakes her head, exasperated by her friend’s stubbornness. “run away, just don’t expect to outrun the truth forever!”
“i’m not running!” you call back as you push your way out the glass door of the arcade. the irony in your actions isn’t lost on you, but you’d be damned if you gave robin the satisfaction.
the cool night air hits your face as you step outside, the glow of the arcade fading behind you. splat dangles limply from your grip, his stupid little frog face judging you silently.
“don’t you start," you mutter, readjusting him under your arm.
but the truth lingers in the air, heavy, undeniable, as you quickly walk home under the hawkins streetlights, heart racing faster than your footsteps.
as you near your place in forest hills, you spot the old trailer in the distance, the familiar beat-up van parked in the driveway. you stop by the curb, staring at the faint light spilling from the window.
a part of you wants to turn around, a part of you wants to keep walking, keep running, never face the truth, but a bigger part of you—the stubborn, hopeful part you thought you’d lost, somewhere along the way, stops you.
“screw it," you whisper. “let’s get this over with."
you take a deep breath and march up to eddie's trailer, splat clutched tight under your arm like a tiny, ridiculous security blanket. before you can second-guess yourself, you knock, harder than necessary, the sound sharp against the quiet night.
the door swings open almost immediately, like he was waiting. eddie leans against the frame, grease-streaked shirt and slightly mussed hair, eyes widening a bit at the sight of you showing up so late. “sweetheart? you good?"
you shove splat against his chest before he can finish. “here. you forgot your kid."
eddie blinks down at the frog, then back up at you; confusion, amusement, or something else entirely flickering in his gaze. “uh. thanks?"
you cross your arms, chin jutting stubbornly. “and robin’s being annoying."
his lips twitch, “so, a tuesday."
you glare at him, but there’s no heat in it, just exhaustion, frustration, the weight of everything unspoken between you. eddie sobers abruptly, studying your face. then, gently, knowing something was bothering you, “wanna come in?"
you hesitate. splat’s beady eyes seem to bore into your soul. finally, you exhale sharply. “yeah. yeah, i do."
eddie grins, bright, real, and steps aside. “cool. munson family reunion." and just like that, the running stops.
the trailer smells like oil and burnt popcorn, but it’s warm, warmer than the empty street outside. eddie kicks a pile of laundry off the couch with one foot, gesturing for you to sit. you collapse onto the worn cushions, splat tumbling from eddie’s grip onto the coffee table. he lands with a soft plop, staring blankly at the ceiling like a tiny, tragic martyr.
eddie snorts, flopping down beside you. “damn. kid’s seen some shit tonight."
you bite your lip. the silence stretches, not uncomfortable, but charged, like the air before a storm. eddie picks at a loose thread on his jeans, then clears his throat.
“so, robin?”
you groan, tipping your head back against the couch. “ugh. don’t—"
“what?" he grins, nudging your knee with his. “she say something weird? shock me."
you peek at him sideways. his smile’s easy, but his fingers are drumming restless against his thigh. you recognize the tell—eddie munson is nervous. it was rare for him to show it.
you swallow, “just… typical robin stuff. you know how she is."
eddie hums, studying splat like the frog holds the answers to the universe. “yeah. yeah, i do."
another pause; the clock on the wall ticks on, filling the silence.
“sweetheart,” his voice is quieter now, serious. “we’re… good, right?"
your chest tightens. you glance at him, really look at him; the way his brows pinch, the way he’s waiting for your answer like it matters, like you matter. something in you cracks.
“eds." you reach over, flicking splat’s dumb frog foot. “we have a child together. of course we’re good."
eddie’s laugh bursts out of him, sudden and bright, tension shattering like glass. he slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side, the press of him against you warm and familiar.
"damn straight," he murmurs, squeezing you tight. “munson family values."
you roll your eyes, but you don't pull away, just lean into him, letting him ground you to the beat-up couch, the worn carpet, the familiar clutter of the munson trailer.
as you settle against his side, you can feel the steady thump of his heartbeat. familiar, something you didn't realize you'd missed until it was there again. something warm and terrifying blooms in your chest.
for a minute, you don't talk. you just exist in the space between the clock-ticking, eddie's arm around you, splat staring at the ceiling.
"hey, sweetheart?"
you blink, “yeah?”
eddie's fingers are tracing circles on your shoulder, absently, like he doesn't even know he's doing it. “promise me something."
you lift your head to look at him, eyes searching his face. it's serious, but a tiny, teasing grin still tugs at the corners of his mouth.
“depends," you counter, trying to match his light tone, trying not to let your heart jump at how close you are, how easy it would be to lean in. “what kind of promise?"
his hand still moves gently against your shoulder, tracing a lazy path up to your collarbone. “no matter what… we stay friends, right? no matter what anyone says or what happens, you and me, we’re good."
his eyes are locked onto yours, something almost frantic in them, like you're a line he can't afford to lose.
it’s an easy answer, “of course," you whisper. “always, you and me, munson." you hold out your pinky finger like a little kid, waiting for him to hook his around it.
he stares down at your outstretched pinky for a moment, something flickering in his eyes. then, a slow smile spreads across his face, and he hooks his pinky around yours, squeezing hard.
“always," he promises, his voice quiet. “me and you."
you let the moment stretch, the room warm and soft around you, then, slowly, reluctantly, you pull away. you lean back into the couch, putting some space between you.
the distance feels too wide suddenly, the couch too big. eddie exhales, sharp, unsteady, and scrubs a hand through his hair.
“okay, cool. cool. just—" he gestures vaguely at splat, abandoned on the table. “so, uh. joint custody, then? or—“
you snort, kicking his shin lightly. “shut up." he grins, but it doesn't reach his eyes.
he drops his hands like he doesn’t know what to do with them now, looking away, at anything but you. it's suddenly too hot in his vicinity, like all the oxygen's been sucked from the room.
you clear your throat, fingers curling against the worn cushion. “you… ever think about the future, eds?"
his head jerks up like you've hit him, wide-eyed, almost startled. he stares at you for a second, then laughs, but it sounds forced.
“what, like, college and shit?"
you shrug, picking at a loose thread on the couch, anything to avoid his gaze. “yeah, or i dunno just… what comes next?”
eddie’s quiet for a beat, when he finally speaks again, his voice has a softness he rarely used, “i think about it," he admits. “mostly when wayne starts asking if i wanna take over the garage someday." he rubs the back of his neck. “but… i dunno. feels like the future’s this big, weird thing that’s just gonna happen to me, y’know?"
you glance up, his expression is unreadable, half-shadowed by the dim trailer light, half-open in a way that makes your stomach twist. “what about you?" he asks. “got any grand plans?"
you hesitate, the truth sits heavy on your tongue. “i think… i just wanna be happy. whatever that means.”
eddie’s eyes flicker, something raw flashing through them, before he grins, nudging your knee with his. “yeah. yeah, that’s a good plan."
eventually, you push yourself off the couch, stretching. eddie watches you, eyes tracing the line of your back, the slope of your shoulders, the way your shirt pulls tight against your skin.
his fingers twitch, as if he wants to reach out. then he clears his throat, shoving them into his pockets. “you, uh, leaving?”
you hesitate at the door, splat dangling from your fingers. the quiet between you is thick with everything unsaid, the ghost of eddie's pinky curled around yours.
“yeah," you say finally, forcing a smirk. “someone’s gotta tuck splat in."
eddie leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, but his grin doesn’t reach his eyes this time. “right. parental duties."
you take a step back, the night air cool against your skin as he pushes the door open for you. “see you tomorrow?"
he nods, thumb hooking into his belt loop like he’s anchoring himself. “tomorrow."
and as you walk away, splat swinging at your side, you pretend not to hear the way eddie’s voice cracks when he calls after you,
“hey, wait—“
you turn, he’s silhouetted in the trailer light, all wild hair and restless hands. “we’re gonna be happy."
it’s not a question. it’s a vow. you smile, small, real. “yeah, eds. we are."
the walk home is quiet, just the hum of distant streetlights and the occasional rustle of leaves underfoot. splat swings gently from your hand, his button eyes catching the glow of the moon. the night feels endless, like you're suspended between moments, between past and future, between friendship and whatever this other thing is, pulsing under your ribs.
summary: eddie meets you at a house party not knowing why he was so drawn to you.
warnings: not proof read, intentional lower case, potential ooc eddie, cannon divergence, no upside down, potential gore? nsfw but no smut (sorry guys 💔), vampires obviously, a few uses of y/n (again sorryyyy), eddie calls reader pet names like sweetheart. some fluff, some angst.
authors note: okay this was a lot longer than i originally planned LMAO. it took me a while to write, and i really hope you enjoy it 😋🫶 (i may have also used a few quotes from interview with the vampire, this was heavily inspired by that!)
this fic has been edited, if you've read it before friday 24th 2026, then there have been some changes so feel free to reread!
wc: 4k
eddie hates parties like these. he hates them with a burning passion— bodies against bodies crammed to the brim, sticky floors, loud shitty pop music, it irks him. but still, he was here. gareth dragged him to the halloween party, saying it's his night to finally make a move on the girl he likes and that he needed his wingman.
eddie was getting annoyed by gareth constantly rambling on about the girl he met a few weeks ago. he was happy for him, but he was just so tired of hearing it. then gareth had the audacity to ditch him at the party to hookup with said girl.
he didn't really know why he stayed, maybe it was the free drinks, who knows. he just felt like there was another reason to be there, but he didn't know what or why.
he found himself back in the kitchen, only a few people in there. he was searching the fridge for a beer, when someone caught his eye. god, she was breathtaking. he had to stop himself from staring so he could close the fridge. he then walked over to the girl he'd never seen before.
"you new here?" he spoke. you didn't realise he was talking to you. you turned your head and your eyes looked with his. your heart jittered in your chest.
"huh? oh yeah, i moved a few days ago,” you smiled, fangs on full display.
"woah, either you're extremely committed to the bit or i should be running for the hills,” he joked, rubbing his neck with one hand with a chuckle.
"oh, yeah,” you chuckled. "i got them custom made, i quite like halloween." eddie watched as the words fell effortlessly from your lips. you sounded truthful, almost too truthful. he felt almost on edge and he wasn't sure why.
maybe the beer was just getting to him. surely.
"that's a pretty accent. where're you from, sweetheart?" he asked, leaning against the counter. you watched carefully as his chest rose and fell, and had to take in a breath yourself before talking.
"i'm from st malo in france." you responded kindly.
“well color me shocked, your english is fucking amazing." he chuckled, looking into your eyes. god, there was just something about your eyes.
"i've been in america for a while, just traveling around." you'd poured a glass of wine for yourself, but you weren't drinking it. eddie noticed, but decided not to comment on it.
"what's your name?" you asked after a beat of silence. you had to clear your voice to get his attention.
"oh- uh it's eddie. eddie munson. and you?" he answered, caught off guard from his distraction.
you tell him your name, and he repeated it back to you, trying it out on his own tongue. "pretty name,” he spoke. you thanked him respectfully.
an awkward silence fell between them, before you cleared your throat again. "well, uh, i'm gonna head to the bathroom, i'll see you around?" you spoke softly.
"yeah- yeah. i'll see you around sweetheart." he spoke, watching you leave the kitchen. it was only then he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
there was just something about you that he couldn't put his finger on, something that was alluring to him. he'd seen pretty girls before, and flirted with them before, but none had him as captivated as you did.
Eddie was back in the main room, finding a slightly secluded place in the corner near the hallway. he let the taste of the cheep beer linger on his tongue as his eyes drifted to the hallway.
eddie couldn't remember how long it had been since you excused yourself, and eventually saw you leaving the bathroom. you were wiping your bottom lip with your thumb, and his eyes lingered for a moment at your lips.
you were also finally drinking your wine, which looked thicker than the one you'd poured. he figured it was just his mind playing tricks on him, and brushed it off. you approached and greeted him with a soft smile.
"did y' reapply fake blood in there? you were gone quite a while. i was worried you'd fallen in or something," he chuckled.
"yeah- i was. that shits sticky as hell," you breathed out a laugh, almost suspiciously. you seemed a little on edge.
"hey- are you oka-" he was cut off by a blood curdling scream coming from the bathroom. "what the fuck was that about?" eddie spoke, slightly startled.
"i'm not sure, probably some halloween prank." you spoke, staring at your wine as you swirled it around in the glass.
after a few moments, a guy came into the main room, stormed towards the stereo and turned the music off. "everyone needs to leave right the fuck now." he yelled.
there was a collective sound of 'boo's and 'come on man!' but he still ushered them all out.
"maybe it's not a halloween prank" eddie spoke. "you uh- you need a ride home?" he offers politely.
"sure, i don't mind." you agreed, smiling gratefully. he had to bite his bottom lip to stop the smile from spreading across his face, you really were contagious.
When you got in the van, he offered for you to choose from his tapes to play while he drove. you skimmed through the unorganized collection, and ultimately settled with a metallica mixtape. the first song to play was for whom the bell tolls.
eddie let out a whistle as the music hit his ears. "good choice, sweetheart." he moved his hand to turn the music up slightly, before moving his eyes off the road for a second to look at you, a cheesy smile on his lips.
your heart could have just stopped right there and then.
the rest of the ride was calm, minus the music playing in the background. eddie strummed his fingers on the wheel along to the songs, his silver rings rattling like additional percussion. you couldn't stop yourself from staring, it was honestly quite satisfying.
"so uh where am i driving to?" he asks as they were stationary at a red light. he was still mindlessly drumming his fingers on the wheel, her eyes lingering on them before the lights went green, snapping you back to reality.
"i live on the street next to the cemetery," you responded, eyes drifting back to his hands. his hands were alarmingly breathtaking, and quite veiny.
"you got it sweetheart. let's get you home" he spoke softly. you felt your heart flutter at the endearment.
it wasn't the first time this night it had done that either. every time he'd called you sweetheart that night, it was like someone had set off butterflies in your stomach. you weren't one to catch feelings this fast, you'd grown a fear of abandonment over time.
you had to try and suppress the feelings as much as possible, he was just a kind acquaintance driving you home, nothing more, nothing less.
why did that feel so impossible?
"jesus christ is that where you live?" he spoke, jaw slightly agape as they turned the street next to the cemetery, pulling up to one of the more fancier houses in town. "didn't know you were rich, sweetheart." he jokes.
"there's a lot of things you don't know about me." you replied, a soft smile planted on your face. as he pulled up to her driveway, he hesitated.
"uh...would it be too forward to ask for your landline?" he spoke, trying not to show any signs of nervousness.
"if you have a pen." eddie quickly scrambled through his messy shoebox, grabbing a pen and handing it to you. your fingers touch slightly, and the first thing he noticed was how cold your touch was. your eyes locked for a second, hearts fluttering.
"give me your arm, mon chèri." he froze at your french, eyes widening slightly with a smirk, before snapping out of it. he rolled up his sleeve and gave you his arm.
you wrote your number neatly on his forearm, your handwriting almost cursive. he couldn't help but watch as you focused, awestruck by your beauty.
"thank you for the ride, eddie munson." you spoke, opening the door. "call me soon, okay?" you said before closing the door and walking to your porch. eddie didn't even get a chance to say goodbye, he was almost in a trance as he watched you go.
"jesus h. christ, eddie, get it together. you've seen pretty girls before." he spoke before pulling out of her driveway.
a few days later, eddie was watching the news while reading through his campaign notes. his ears perked up when he heard a crime from a halloween party a few days ago. the same party he was at. now he was listening, the notes discarded to the side.
he soon discovered that the cause of the scream from the party was someone finding a dead body. the cause of death was something had bitten her in the neck, and the wrist, and she'd bled to death, though there wasn't a huge trace of blood. it's as if she was drained, and then left to die.
eddie felt his heart stutter, fear creeping up his neck. he wasn't usually scared by crimes he heard on the news, but knowing he was on the crime scene definitely sent a shiver down his spine.
after that, more and more bodies with the same deaths had been discovered and he had a weird feeling in his gut. something was off about this whole situation.
his eyes kept darting to his phone on the wall, he hadn't called you at all since the party. he wasn't sure if it was shyness or fear of rejection or what, but now he felt like he should.
"fuck it."
he got up from his sofa and walked towards the phone, your number was still on his arm, though slightly faded. he couldn't tell if one of the numbers was an 8 or a 9, and he prayed he'd get it right the first time.
he dialed the number into the phone, hesitating to press call. then he did, and it rang for just over ten seconds.
"hello?" he heard the familiar french accent and his stomach flipped. you sounded tired, like he'd just woken you. it was 11am, so maybe you'd slept in.
"hey sweetheart. you doing okay?" he asked, hearing a yawn through the line. "mhm," you hummed softly. "why'd you call, mon chèri?" you asked curiously.
he paused, he didn't actually know. "uh...are you busy today?" he blurted out. there was a beat of silence. "a little. i'll be free when the sun goes down, why, what were you planning?" you responded, yawning again.
"i don't know, i was wondering if you wanted to uh hangout."
"sure, we could go down to lovers lake?" he heard your groggy voice ask. how he could get used to that voice. "that works for me. would 8pm be good for you?" "mhm. i'll see you there, eddie." you spoke. he then heard the line cut off.
he pulled up to lovers lake at 8:02pm. he couldn't tell if you were there yet, so he pulled out a cigarette, cupping it as he lit it. he leant against his van just staring at the waves when-
"hi." you whispered right next to him. "JESUS christ!" he practically jumped out of his skin, bouncing back like a skittish cat, clutching his pearls. you let out an evil laugh at his jumpiness.
"christ, y/n, you scared the living daylight out of me. do you creep up on people like that often?" he spoke, gathering his breathing back.
"sometimes" you responded, calming down from your laughter. "pretty night, huh?"
"oh, yeah. real pretty. well it was before my heart fell to my ass." he complained.
"you're fine, mon chèri. it's just me." you spoke. "just you, huh?" he spoke softly. "anyway, what had you so busy that you're only free after sundown?" he asked.
"work stuff. i'm a freelancer, so i've got quite a big workload since i'm my only worker," you let out a breathy laugh.
"ooh a freelancer, huh? what kind of work do you do?" he asked as you both started walking down to the lake.
"i create and sell paintings. you'd be surprised how much someone would buy a portrait of themselves for." you chucked.
"a painter? you paint? that's cool." he didn't understand why he was making a big deal out of it. so what if she paints? totally normal.
"yeah, portraits, landscapes, you name it. i get a lot of commissions, one of the reasons why i don't settle often." you explained. eddie just stares in awe.
"that's pretty badass. you'll have to paint me one day," he chuckled.
"yeah maybe one day, mon cœur." you smiled, looking away, over to the water.
eddie couldn't help how his eyes lingered on her. your face was illuminated by the soft moonlight, your hair flowing slightly in the wind. he'd only just met this girl a couple days ago, was he already falling for her? no. surely not. he's not in high school anymore, he doesn't get crushes like that anymore.
"you look beautiful." he blurted out. he wasn't meant to say that.
"oh yeah? you think so?" you teased, seeing him hide his face with his hair, his sheepish smile peaking through.
"just under the moonlight. you look like you were made for the night. it complements you well," he continued, smiling like a fool.
"you have no idea." you mumbled under your breath, just enough so he couldn't make out the words.
"what was that, sweetheart?" he spoke. "oh i said you're really kind for that. i uh...i don't get many compliments these days." you chuckled.
"really?" he seemed genuinely shocked at your words. "that'll have to change, i'll make that change. you're crazy pretty. prettier than the moon id go as far to say." he was less sheepish now, gaining more confidence, treading the waters carefully with his words.
"oh stop, you don't have to say all that," you smiled. now you were the sheepish one. get it together. he's just a guy. they're just compliments.
why was your heart racing?
"are you blushing?" he teased. "no. i don't know what you're talking about."
"oh you so are! you're blushing like a sunburn on a summers day" he laughed, not at you, just teasing.
"shut up." you said playfully, shoving his shoulder with your own. you both fell into a laughing fit. Eddie then tripped over a fallen branch making you laugh even more, gasping for breath.
he was absolutely obsessed with the sound of your laughter. it was like hearing his favorite song for the first time, and he wanted to memorize it and hear it over and over again. you felt familiar in a way he couldn't describe. you felt like home.
"you're staring again, mon chèri." you spoke, your eyes trailing over his face. you wanted to learn it like a map, tracing every inch for new details. was that so wrong?
"oh- right. sorry." he chuckled, looking to the side. "got lost there for a moment."
"hey...do you wanna go to that art gallery? the really old one near enzo's?" you asked.
"dude it's like almost 9pm. i'm pretty sure it's closed by now."
"aww come on pretty boy, don't tell me you're scared of breaking a rule or two." you teased. he rolled his eyes dramatically.
"fine. let's go. i'll drive us there." he smiled, seeing your face light up. god, he was fucked.
you arrived at the gallery quite fast. you approached the door, using a hair pin to open the door, feeling for each click of the lock. eddie was shocked at your ability to unlock the door so effortlessly, no alarms sounding or anything. his lips parted slightly in awe.
"ladies first," you said, opening the door wide and gesturing him to go in. "ladies? you're lucky i like you." he chuckled, following you in.
you lit a candle lamp so you weren't in the pitch black and you both walked through the gallery in silence. Eddie noticed how you knew your way around so easily considering you'd just moved here.
your left hand dangled down the side of you, not realizing how close it was to his before your fingers gently brushed. your heart jolted slightly at the touch. he didn't pull his hand away, locking his pinky with yours.
"you know, this isn't my first time in hawkins. i used to live here a while ago," you explained.
"surely i would have seen you, how would i not pick up on a face like yours?" he asked, curiosity lacing his voice.
"i'll explain more when the time is right." you said, looking at a painting.
"when the time is right? how ominous of you. when exactly will the time be right, then, sweetheart?" he continued.
"as i said, when the time is right." you spoke, stopping. you put the candle lamp on a display, and leaned gently against said display.
an awkward silence fell upon you both, nothing to hear but rats in the walls and your mutual breathing.
eddie couldn't take his eyes off you, the soft candle light making some of your features glow, leaving the rest in a dim shadow. you were fucking stunning.
"you're doing that staring thing again, mon cœur." you spoke quietly, a small smile spreading on your lips.
"how can i not when you look so...ethereal." he spoke. it's like he was seeing you in a different light, sure you were gorgeous before, but now- something was different. a good different. he was encapsulated completely.
"careful, eddie. you keep talking to me like that and i might start thinking you like me." you spoke, treading the water lightly. you could feel it. you could both feel it. the tension was rising, and soon enough it would snap.
"you have a habit of breaking rules or is tonight your exception?" eddie asked, taking a step closer.
"i break rules when i see fit. if the opportunity asks for it, i don't wanna miss it." you answered, looking at him now. your faces had grown closer to what you'd both thought.
"i meant what i said before. you're gorgeous. absolutely fucking beautiful." he spoke quietly, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.
"i don't know if i trust those words anymore." you admitted softly.
"can i show you that i mean it?" he whispered, your noses almost touching. he could feel your breath on his face, cold but soothing. he noticed as your eyes darted to his lips and he followed with his own, looking at yours.
you nodded subtly and that was all he needed before gently connecting your lips. his heart was soaring in his chest so loud he was scared you could hear it.
you reached her hand up gently to the crook of his neck, tangling your fingers in the soft curls of his hair, pulling him closer. the kiss grew stronger, more passionate. he felt you gasp into his mouth as he pulled you closer by your waist.
your lips were dancing in tandem with your hearts, and all the worries and noise of the harsh world around you melted away. it was only you two in the closed museum, hearts melting together in the soft glow of the candle light.
you were so sure it was him. it had to be him. it was him.
good things don't always last.
"who's there?!" they heard a guard yell, his torch light pointing to your direction in the hallway. "shit-!" eddie yelped, pulling away from you, running his hands through his hair. "jesus h. christ. what do we do? y/n what do we do?" he panicked.
"calm yourself mon amor." you spoke, standing up straight from the display and allowed the guard to walk towards them.
"i will call the police! your last warning, you need to leave." the guard yelled. he was quite old, maybe in his late 50s early 60s.
you walked slowly yet confidently towards the guard. eddie felt the energy change in the room. he didn't feel fear because of the officer anymore, he felt fear for the officer.
"y/n- what are you doing?" he asked, hazardously. "please forgive me for this, eddie. i did not wish for you to see this." she didn't turn to face him as she spoke.
it was then when you rose from the floor, jumping a few feet into the air before landing back down on the guard, knocking him down.
you sunk your teeth into his neck, and the officer screamed like bloody murder- literally.
you covered his mouth with your hand, muffling his cries of agony while you drained his blood ravishingly. it was a monstrous sight to see. eddie was frozen like a deer caught in headlights. he didn't know what to do, should he run? should he hide? he should have ran for the hills like he said that day there and then.
you stood up from the dead guard, turning around slowly as you wiped the blood from your chin. you then slowly started walking towards eddie. very slowly.
eddie stumbled backwards, falling onto his ass as he tripped over his bag. he crawled backwards in fear.
"you don't need to fear me, eddie, i will not hurt you. if i wanted to you'd be dead by now." you reassured him.
"oh how comforting!" he exclaimed, crawling back. he then saw a painting next to him. it was an old painting of a couple, he couldn't make out their faces but they looked oddly familiar. as if he'd seen it before, though he'd never had an interest in paintings so he'd never been here before tonight.
"eddie, mon chèri, you need to calm down. i hear your heart racing." you spoke softly, still walking slowly towards him.
he looked between you and the painting and it clicked. it was her. and...no, surely not. he had to be hallucinating. "you're- you have the devil in you!" he yelled, frantically crawling backwards still.
"you killed all those people! the one at the party- the ones on the news! it was all you!" he exclaimed.
"i kill those who deserve it." you corrected.
"we met for a reason, eddie. fate brought us back together. i lost you once before, i will not lose you again. you're wrong, i don't have the devil in me. but i can bring you death." you spoke.
he saw the soft glow in you eyes, like a cat in the dark night. "what are you talking about?!" he yelled in fear. his back hit a wall behind him. he was cornered.
"we were companions a long time ago. in this same very town. you did not know i was...a vampire back then. i was a coward for not revealing myself. i could-" you paused, your voice breaking. "i could have saved you. i could have given you this gift of eternal power and youth and instead i watched you die. i won't let that happen again."
your words settled sourly on his chest. an uncomfortable yet familiar feeling in his gut. "how is that possible?" he spoke, his voice strained with fear and confusion as his eyes continued to dart between you and the painting, the man looking a lot too familiar for comfort. it was him with you in the portrait.
"you rebirthed. twice. i could not find you the first time, but ive found you once again. and its honestly ironic that in each life you live, you have the same name, edward." you spoke. you stood near his feet, and crouched down to his height.
"i love you, eddie. i have so much love for you, in every life you rebirth. be my companion once more. all you have to do is ask for it." you spoke quietly, looking into his eyes with a century of love and pain.
his fear slowly soothed away at your soft words. his eyes looked into yours with a similar deepness, a curiosity and wonder in his expression. he lifted a hand to your cheek and you lent into it.
"i can't lose you again, eddie. not after this long. not after a century of searching and mourning. my heart can't take anymore." your eyes welled with red tears, you were crying blood. a singular tear ran down your cheek, staining it crimson in its wake. eddie brushed it away with his thumb.
"sweetheart..."
"i love you eddie. i know you feel it too. i hear your heart soaring when you lay eyes on me. please tell me you do, you have to." your voice broke.
"i love you too, y/n. i wasn't sure why i felt so drawn to you, why you felt so familiar. but i think i understand now." he spoke, his doe eyes full of wonder. he pulled your face towards him and your lips crashed softly.
you let out a gasp as they connected, and you leant into it. you could hear his blood pumping through his veins at a rapid pace. he could taste the iron of the blood that you drank only a moment ago. he hated how much he craved it.
he gently grabbed you by the waist, pulling you onto his lap as the kiss deepened. you bit his bottom lip enough to draw blood and licked it to soothe it, tasting his blood on your tongue. eddie took that as his signal to explore your mouth, your tongues dancing together as if it wasn't the first time.
you pulled away from the kiss and started leaving trails down his jaw, then to his neck, sucking on the fragile skin gently. he let out a soft gasp at your touch, his jaw going slack as he felt your canines gently drag against his pulse.
"do you accept my gift of the dark night, eddie?" you whispered. his heart was thrumming between his rib cage, his thoughts going a million miles a second yet he wasn't sure he wanted to say no.
"yes or no, mon chèri." you spoke again, nipping lightly at his neck, teasing him for what could come.
"yes..." he breathed out hesitantly before letting out a loud gasp as you sunk your teeth into his neck, his eyes going wide as he gripped your shoulder. it hurt a lot at first, burning white hot pain. but as you drank, the pain soon turned to dullness. the blood leaving his body making him feel colder, his fingertips buzzing.
he was breathing heavily, but the soft caress of your hand cradling his head as you drank stabilized him a lot. you weren't tearing him apart, you weren't drinking to kill. you were gentle. a lot more gentle than you were with the guard he'd witnessed die.
he was so drained of blood that he was turning a dull shade of grey, and felt incredibly weak. he watched as you pulled back, slitting a line in your forearm with your thumb, before raising it to his lips. "take what you need, mon cœur." you spoke.
as soon as the blood hit his tongue, he immediately reached for her arm, pulling it closer as he sucked the blood from you. he felt absolutely euphoric, the feeling of your blood entering his veins, replacing what you'd drained, was the best feeling he'd ever felt in his life. better than any drug he'd taken at a party.
"there you go, mon chèri. just a little more." you cooed, watching him as he drank from you, claiming the rare gift you'd offered so kindly.
eventually you pulled your wrist away and it hit him like a freight train. the hunger, the unbearable, excruciatingly painful hunger.
"what's happening to me?" he groaned, clutching his stomach.
"your body is confused, dying and rebirthing. and you're hungry." you explained, standing up and walking over to the guard, hauling him onto your shoulder like he weighed nothing.
"come on, eddie. we need to go pay the cemetery a visit." you said, walking off. eddie trailed behind you, stumbling all over the place in pain.
part two soon!!!! <3
tag list: @flwrsuh
let me know if you'd like to be tagged for part two 🫶🫶
okay so what happened to all those tlou fics that aren't like drowning in smut. like i like smut but why can i never find some yearning fics these days, it's like mining for gold. does anyone have any recommendations of some slow burn multi chapter fics cos im tired of all this searching 😪
I’m acc so fed up with seeing fanfics with Ellie being so not Ellie like bro like she’s literal rep of dorky awkward girls but y’all take the “ouu she a masc” and make it her whole personality when writing things Like yes we know but can we talk about how much she loves astronomy I want to read about her stargazing and saying weird facts Abt the flipping sky I wanna read fanfics of her being awkward. Enough with this culture of writing a character but to the point it won’t even be Abt the character. TO FREEDOM
(This is where y’all clap for me after I scream to freedom)
An Ellie Williams x Maleficent!Reader Au. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
An: I can’t lie i’ve been putting this off for so long, and for some reason i decided it would be a brilliant idea to start this at 4am. Considering it is very early in the morning, the quality may not be that great. Not proof read. Enjoy my loves!
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Four months had past since Ellie had stolen the fairies wings, and Abby was checking in on activity at the castle. She saw the maids of the Queens making a fuss down in their quarters of the castle and knew she needed to find out what was going on.
“A girl! It’s a girl!” One of the maids announced, practically squealing with joy. Queen Dina had given birth to the prior kings baby.
Abby flew back to Y/N as soon as the news had landed upon her ears.
“Into a man.” Y/N spoke when she sensed Abby was close to her. “Well?” She asked impatiently.
“Well i saw nothing..but there’s been a, um…” Abby spoke nervously before Y/N interrupted her.
“What?”
“Child.” Abby spoke, “Queen Dina and Queen Ellie have had a child.” She finished.
“Oh.” Y/N spoke, not knowing what to say.
“There’ll be a christening, They say it’s to be a grand celebration.” Abby added, trying to break the silence.
“A grand celebration for a baby. How wonderful.” Evil tones laced the sound of Y/N’s voice.
At the castle, hundreds of people had traveled from far and wide to attend the newborns christening. It indeed was a grand celebration as Abby had said. There was so many people that they barely fit on the large staircases, let alone inside the throne room.
All Manor of folk came, even a trio of fairies, who sought to foster peace and goodwill.
“Oh look! There’s the baby!” Flittle spoke with excitement.
“I love babies!” Thistlewit responded with the same amount of joy.
“Can you just concentrate, please.” Knotgrass corrected them both. “Im not telling you again.” She finished.
The three fairies found themself hovering in front of the two Queens.
“Greetings, your Majesty. I am Knotgrass of the Moorland Fair Folk.” Knotgrass introduced herself.
“I’m Flittle, your Queenship.” Flittle did the same before Thistlewit.
“And i’m Thistlewit, your Royalnesses.”
“They bring gifts for our daughter.” Queen Dina spoke to Ellie as she saw the distaste in her wife’s face.
“These are not just any old gifts,” Flittle started, “For, you see,” Knotgrass continued before Flittle finished, “We’re magic!”
“And very good with children.” Knotgrass added.
“Very well.” Queen Ellie spoke before allowing the fairies to bestow their gifts upon her child.
Knotgrass flew towards the baby before announcing her magical gift.
“Sweet Aurora, I wish for you the gift of beauty.” She spoke softly before sprinkling magical flower petals over the baby.
“My wish is that you will never be blue, only haply for all the days of your life.” Flittle spoke as her magical blue butterflies fluttered around Aurora. One of them landed on her nose, causing her to sneeze.
“Sweet baby, my wish for you is that you find…” Thistlewit started before a large draft of wind blew throughout the throne room, causing the candle light to be blown out. The fairies looked to where it came from.
A shadow of a woman with curved horns and a sceptre appeared on one of the walls of the throne room as she walked in. People watched in fear as they made a path in the middle of the room for Y/N to walk through, as she made her way towards the monarchy.
She stopped walking and banged her sceptre onto the floor. “Well well.” She spoke mischievously, continuing her way towards her old friend.
“What a glittering assemblage, Queen Ellie.” She complimented before petting Abby in crow form.
“Royalty, Nobility, the gentry and..” she laughed, “how quaint. Even the rabble.” She spoke towards the fairy trio.
“I must say, i really felt quite distressed at not receiving an invitation.” Y/N said innocently.
“You’re not welcome here.” Ellie finally spoke.
Y/N started pouting, acting sad before laughing again. “Oh dear, what an awkward situation.”
“You’re not offended?” Queen Dina asked.
“Why no.” Y/N paused for a moment. “And to show i bear no ill will, i, too, shall bestow a gift on the child.” She said with her innocent tone.
“No! We don’t want your gift!” Ellie yelled, standing up.
Y/N ignored her, and started towards Aurora.
“Stay away from the princess!” knotgrass yelled, guarding the bassinet. “Yea, stay away!” Thistlewit joined her along with Flittle.
Y/N effortlessly used her magic to throw the fairy trio across the stage into a box.
“Hmm..” Y/N thought for a moment. “Mm.”
“Listen well, all of you,” She started, her green magic appearing in front of the newborn. “the princess shall indeed grown in grace and beauty, loved by all who meet her..” She continued before Queen Dina interrupted her. “That’s a lovely gift.”
Y/N turned her head to look at Dina, then Ellie who spoke, “Don’t do this..”
In response, Y/N put her pointer finger to her lips in a way to tell her to stay quiet. She turned around and saw a spinning wheel, the needle shining in the light that peeked through the window. She walked out to face the Royal family, raising her arms by her sides, her green magic growing around her.
“But..before the sun sets on her sixteenth birthday, she will prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and fall into a sleep like death! A sleep from which she will never awaken.” She yelled. Ellie watched in fear.
“Y/N please don’t do this..i’m begging you.” She spoke.
“I like you begging, do it again.” Y/N ordered.
Ellie got on her knees in front of the once winged girl. “I beg you.” She spoke again.
“Alright.” Y/N smiled.
“The princess can be woken from her death sleep..But only by…true loves kiss. This curse will last till the end of time! No power on earth can change it.” She yelled. Ellie’s heart felt like it had dropped to her stomach, she had made a grave mistake. Y/N walked out of the castle with an evil laugh.
Taglist (let me know if you wanna be added!): @seraphicsentences @hakandnsjoqmsn
would anyone be interested in a long and depressing fic where reader waits for abby in the stadium during the three days in seattle? and then sees her on the island/has to fight her?
not a writer but i want to start, so ill try my best 🫶🏼
Requested by @joellastofus “Hey idk if your doing requests on Abby imagines but I had this idea where Ellie and Dina ( or tommy ) finds the reader (the reader being abbys significant other) and like Abby intervenes before the reader is killed. Can you do something on that concept?”
Warning- violence, talks of blood, angst, light fluff
———-
The sound of a loud crash causes you to spin around in a hurry, your chest heaving up and down heavily as you quietly tip toed towards the noise, noticing that the shooting going on outside was gone.
But that fact alone was meant that whoever the shooter was, was mostly likely inside the abandoned restaurant. And from what you saw, their shooting is not to be taken as some joke. Whoever that mysterious shooter was.
Another crash sounds off. Closer this time. Making the little hairs on the back of your neck stand, the gun in your hand tremble like your body was, causing your eyes to go wide.
You take a deep breath and hold it for a second as you turn over the corner, pointing your gun to…nothing. Thankfully—you breathe out and begin walking, your heartbeat still increasing wildly at the sound of the wind outside. The wooden flooring begins to creak. Only not from your stepping. Behind you.
In a swift spin, you turn around and your eyes peel open wider, the grip around the gun in your hands becoming firm at the sight of the familiar person….It couldn’t be. Joel’s brother. Tommy.
Hello my loves!! i have been quite slack with writing this year, huh? i’m going to continue my maleficent!r x ellie book and a chapter should be out by friday.
In the mean time, would you guys be interested in a one part fic with pure angst (abby x reader, post outbreak day) where they wanted to confess their love to each other, but it was too late?!?!
