eli

he/him | mlm | autistic | 19

[theprideful-deactivated20251201]

why autistic/adhd people may not ask for help

i’m not sure where to start and i don’t even know what questions to ask that would help me understand any of this

i want to ask you but i’m deathly afraid that you will hate my guts and resent me forever

i feel stupid and embarrassed for not knowing/understanding this

i wasn’t paying attention/i zoned out/you were talking too fast while going over this

“oh my god are you serious? it’s obvious, weren’t you paying any attention?” thanks for confirming i’m as stupid as i feel, appreciate it

i forgot about this deadline and i should’ve done it sooner but now it’s too late and awkward to say anything

your criticism will cast me into despair

i have no idea how to articulate my concerns so i will sit here silently until i can

i feel horrible about not doing it and not asking you initially and so i’m avoiding talking about it in the hopes that i will miraculously and suddenly understand it instead of doing the walk of shame to your office and risking the chance that i’ll piss you off and ruin your night

i’m working up the confidence to ask you

i’m formulating in my head a way to ask that doesn’t make me sound like i didn’t care enough to do it sooner, and that i actually have the willingness to do it, and that doesn’t place any blame on anyone except maybe me

autistic/adhd people feel free to add on! obviously this will vary from person to person, but this is my personal experience as an autistic and adhd person. if you’re neurotypical, please don’t try to offer tips for how to get around this because i can almost guarantee it will not be helpful :)

[hexedlover]

prompt idea! dramatic confession of love in the rain with friends to lovers reader & eddie. maybe like arguing outside about the fact that somethings been off with one of them & demanding an answer, love confessing ensues then BAM! rain kiss 🫢

i love this request so much, i adore writing love confessions! ♥ | 1.7k words (got a little carried away lol)

It started with a simple question.

"Do you mind getting another ride home today?" Eddie had said.

You didn't mind, not really. Of course, you used to take every opportunity to spend time with him, but you could understand that he had his own life and sometimes his plans didn't line up with yours. It was okay.

When he explained the reason behind the question, however, you felt yourself wither and dwindle like a dying flower.

"I'm going to take Aubrey home, so...you know."

You did know. Aubrey lived on the other side of town, completely off the route you and Eddie took to get home every day. He wasn't just giving her a ride; it was something. Something else. Maybe some kind of date, even.

Date.

You felt your heart three times heavier as you forced a smile and said, almost capable of hearing the tiny pieces of it tinkling inside your chest own chest, "Oh, sure. It's okay."

And then, before you could stop yourself, you did the stupidest thing one could possibly do; you had asked.

"So…did she ask you out on a date or something?"

You'd poked him in the ribs playfully then, trying to look more relaxed than you really felt as the words left your mouth.

If Eddie noticed it, he didn't let it show. He actually laughed, looking a little embarrassed, and replied, "Actually, I kind of asked her."

Wonderful.

You couldn't stop your eyebrows from rising then, whatever's left of your heart from breaking. You tried to avoid looking like the kicked puppy you felt. Probably didn't succeed as much as you'd like to say.

In general, you were good at doing this — you'd been doing it ever since you realized your feelings for Eddie Munson went far beyond a mere affection between two good friends. It was almost second nature — both being in love with him and hiding it.

Eddie hadn't noticed anything wrong when you smiled that day, just as he doesn't notice anything wrong with the smile you're giving him now, in the school hallway, a week later.

He's so blind when it comes to you.

"I'm not going home with you today," you tell him, closing your locker and packing your backpack carefully.

It's been no less than torture letting Eddie drive you around in his van for the past few days; his van, where everything smells like him, where he strikes up conversations and tells jokes and makes you laugh like everything is fine.

Because everything is fine to him. You're the one who couldn't help but fall in love. Like an idiot.

You didn't want to risk him finding out that whatever he had going on with Aubrey made you jealous, though, so you'd forced yourself to let him pick you up and drive you home from school every day while he remained blissfully unaware.

He seems surprised when your words sink in.

"No?"

"I have to go somewhere else first," you lie. It comes off easily when you're not looking at him.

"It's all right, I'll go with you."

"No, it's fine. I think it'll take a little while."

"I don't mind."

Smile, just smile. "Eddie, really, it's okay."

"It's raining a lot," he argues, looking awfully worried. "You can't just walk home. Do you even have an umbrella with you?"

"Yes," another lie. It's downhill from here, you can tell. "Don't worry."

You feel like you're going to get burned any moment now if you don't get away from Eddie.

Most people have already gone home — you've been studying in the library and Eddie's been at Hellfire with the boys, so you two had stuck behind. The empty hallway makes everything seem worse somehow, his worried gaze on you heavier.

He lets you take three steps before grabbing your arm.

"Wait," he says, brows furrowed, eyes searching for something in your expression. Whatever it is, he finds it. "Something's wrong. What's wrong, Y/N?"

Eddie never had much of a sense of personal space — he's invading yours now, very much, and everything just got a lot more complicated; his fingers around your elbow are warm, the eyes that stare back at you are kind. He smells the same as always: leather, spearmint, cigarette smoke masked by cheap cologne.

You look at your arm and wonder what are the odds you'll be able to break free and walk out the front door without him following you. Not good.

"Nothing," you manage to say. "Nothing is wrong. What are you talking about?"

Perhaps the fake smile is losing its power, you think, because Eddie doesn't look like he'd be giving up anytime soon.

"Something is off with you these days," he insists.

"Eddie, look, I need to go-"

"Have I done something wrong?"

"What?" you sound horrified, because you are horrified; as if Eddie would ever be able to intentionally hurt you. It would have been funny if you weren't so sad. "No, of course not!"

"Then why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not, I-" It's hard to get the words out with him so close, with his hand on your arm, with his eyes on yours-

Oh, how you'd like to disappear right now.

“Did I forget something?” Eddie looks terribly guilty, even though there's nothing to blame himself for. "Your birthday is still pretty far, so-"

You hate this.

"Eddie-" you try, but he's too far inside his own head to hear. He's probably going over a list of things he could have done to make you mad right now.

“-did we make any plans that I forgot?”

"No, I-"

“Did I say something wrong? Shit, I did, didn’t I?”

“Eddie-”

"-I'm sorry if I said- I don't know what I said, but I am sorry, I-"

“I love you.”

It's a mistake. You instantly know that, you know that the very moment the words leave your mouth without permission, a confession you never meant to make. One look at the way Eddie's entire body seems to tense up, at how his lips freeze mid-sentence, parted but not uttering any words, any sound... it's more than enough to tell you it was a fucking mistake.

Time seems to slow down, each second stretching impossibly beyond normal. The only sound that can be heard is the rain. Heavy, rhythmic, coming down without pause.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

You pull your arm back and pretty much run towards the door as if you might distance yourself from the stupid words you just blurted out by doing so.

You think you hear a mumble of "shit" behind you, but you don't stop to look, don't turn around to be sure. Your eyes are prickling and you can taste the tears that ain't coming.

Rain. You're still running anyways. You're soaked and still running, stumbling because it's hard to see through the storm now, hair sticking to your neck, heavy breathing pushing your chest up and down, your face wet from both the rain and your tears.

The rain...almost as cruel as whoever was responsible for making you fall in love with a friend like Eddie.

A friend who's now calling your name — a yell in the distance muffled by the sound of the rain and of your breaking heart. You ignore it. You can't look at him. Not now.

He insists.

“Shit! You- you can't just tell me you love me and walk away! HEY!”

You avoid the hand that tries to grab your arm this time and keep walking across the parking lot as fast as you can.

But did luck ever stay on your side?

No.

Your head bumps right into Eddie's chest.

He holds you by the shoulders, palms gentle on your now cold skin, eyes gentler when you lift your chin up to look at him. You try to back away, attempting to squirm out of his grasp.

Not this time, though. Eddie holds you tight this time.

"Are you out of your mind?" he says, shouting to be heard over the storm...or maybe just because he's angry. "You can't just storm off like that with weather like this!"

Eddie's hands slide along your arms and then drop from your fingers.

He's taking his leather jacket off.

You take a step to the right to try and go around him, seizing the opportunity; he, however, steps to the left and holds the jacket over your head — as if you weren't already soaked from head to toe. As if he wasn't soaked from head to toe, too.

Eddie looks angry.

And too close.

Of course he looks angry, you think, I blew it.

“Eddie-”

“You're an idiot,” he says. “How could you just take off running like that? You could get fucking pneumonia out here!”

“I didn't mean to-” he's close, very close, and you feel silly, high, dizzy. Everything and nothing at the same time. The words you want to say are lost inside your mind like a paper boat drifting at the sea.

Eddie is still holding his damn jacket over your head like the goddamned gentleman he is.

Despite the closeness, you feel like you need to yell in order to be heard, your voice high and hoarse. “Just let me go!”

You try again and again, but he skillfully foils every one of your plans to walk away from him.

"No!"

"I am sorry! I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have said that, I just…I just need some time! Just give me time and I'll get over you, Eddie, I swear, and everything will get back to normal and you and I can just pretend it never happened-"

In a heartbeat, he's tossing the jacket to the floor and his lips are on yours.

You gasp, too surprised, too tense, and Edde slides a hand to the small of your back, pressing you against his body with something akin to desperation — both of you so entirely soaked from the rain, so entirely frightened, so entirely in love.

When the kiss ends, it's because both of you are out of breath; Eddie doesn't let the space between the two of you grow any further, though.

“Don't get over me,” he pleads, pretty much breathing into your mouth, forehead against yours, eyes fluttering closed. “Don’t ever get over me.”

It seems like your heart is about to jump out of your mouth. He leans in again and you don't have it in you to do anything other than the same.

Letting yourself be kissed is easy. Too easy. It also makes it easier to forget everything that brought the two of you here — the confession, the feelings you believed were unrequited until now… Aubrey.

Aubrey.

You realize you broke the kiss and whispered her name when Eddie opens his eyes to look at you.

“I mean, you and Aubrey…the date…”

He squeezes your waist and laughs, "The date lasted 10 minutes before she told me the obvious."

“Obvious?”

His smile grows.

“That I love you.”

[cursed-by-my-ancestry-deactivat]

"My child is fine" your child is emotionally attached to Eddie Munson.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿 • eddie munson x reader

sequel to 𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗲 and 𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 • another album, another tour, this time with a stop in Indianapolis featuring a local opener that proves to be more familiar than you expected.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 • 5.4k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 • smut (18+ only), semi-public sex, extreme fluff, jealous reader, cocky eddie, hatefucking (at first), emotions!!

Objectively, Eddie was never the best you ever had. Considering your long and storied history included a lot of very talented people— sometimes multiple at a time— it was hard to compete.  He didn't make you come the hardest, or the fastest, or the most.

But for some reason, he was always your favorite. 

Even if he wasn't a sex god, he managed to keep up with you and he was just the right balance of everything: sweet but not too grovelling; good-looking but not too self-obsessed; young but not too naive.

Truth be told, every time you thought about it, you wondered if you should've taken him on tour with you.  You imagined a life where you had this little boytoy to keep you company, where he held you close at night in that big empty bed while the bus was on its way to the next stop; where you finished your sets and walked just off stage to find him waiting, and he'd give you a big kiss and tell you how amazing you were.

But it was just a fantasy, something to get you through especially lonely nights.  You’d been thinking about him leading up to your tour stop in Indiana, wondering if you should find some way to reach out— all you had was an old phone number, and that was nearly a year ago now that you found out he graduated and moved away.  After considering looking him up a few times (and realizing you didn’t actually know if Eddie was short for Edward or Edmond or Edgar or… not short for anything), you decided it was best left alone.  After all, your presence in Indiana was pretty heavily anticipated, it’s not like he couldn’t figure it out if he wanted to find some way to see you.  

Danny nodded at you from behind the drums as you walked onstage for soundcheck.

“Okay, we’re just gonna tune and run the first song on the setlist,” the sound technician announced over the speakers as you put in your earpiece.

“Great,” you answered into the microphone, slinging your guitar on over your shoulder and starting to pick at it to get it perfectly in tune— yes, most big stars have the venue techs or their roadies tune instruments for them, but you preferred doing it yourself.  It was like… well, it was sort of like foreplay.  You preferred warming up your guitar yourself.

“Hey, you heard of this band that’s opening for us?” Jerome, your second guitarist, asked you as an assistant adjusted his mic stand.  “I was talking to the venue manager— he said a ton of people are here to see them.  They’re local legends or something.”

“I didn’t even read who’s opening for us,” you admitted.  “I haven’t slept since Louisville.”

“They’re called Corroded Coffin,” he said.  “Real grungy stuff.”

“Well, it’s a decent name,” you offered.  “I’ll have to watch their set and see if they’re any good.”

When soundcheck ended, you retired to the green room for a drink and a rest, the closest thing you had to a pre-show ritual.  This venue was nice enough that you had a TV by the vanity, meaning you totally zoned out and lost track of time watching National Geographic; you didn’t even realize the show had started until you heard loud, echoing guitars from outside.  

Turning the volume down, you listened to the muffled sound for a couple minutes, nodding to yourself.  Hey, they’re not bad.

Deciding to venture out and get a proper listen, you navigated the crowded backstage— roadies, assistants, and for some reason a crowd of kids in matching t-shirts?— so you could peer in from-offstage to see the band.  The first thing you saw was the pit; it was full of girls.  Screaming, desperate girls.  Shit, who is this guy?  You figured you weren’t likely to get the same reception from that section of the crowd, unless there was a bisexual convention in town.

Leaning further in, you finally saw the back of the guitarist’s head.  Any other context, and that mess of long, curly brown hair would give it away— but this was the metal scene, after all, and most of the guys looked like that.

He took a step back, disappointing the girls who had been climbing over each other to try to touch his ankle, and shook his head to get his hair out of his face.  That was when you got a proper glimpse of him for the first time, and your breath caught.

No, it’s not… 

He was too far away for you to be sure, and if you leaned forward any more, you’d be visible to the crowd which was not worth the trouble.  Spinning around, you saw the group of kids behind you, and narrowed your eyes at their shirts.  “Hey,” you yelled over the music to get the attention of one of them, “what do those shirts mean?”

“They’re for our D&D club!” he answered emphatically.  “That’s our Dungeon Master!”

As he pointed to the frontman again, you spun around.  Fuck.

“EDDIE, WE LOVE YOUUU!!!” a girl with braces screamed from the front row, literally sobbing, and you wondered how you could physically fit in your body every emotion you were feeling in this one moment.

Euphoria, confusion, devastation, excitement, anxiety— he was here, he was opening for you, he really made it.  But was he too good for you now?  He was the next big thing— you could already tell, hearing him play, that he was the real deal— and you were… well, you were the last big thing.  He was Van Halen, you were Black Sabbath; he was video, you were the radio star.  He was the nineties, coming around the corner faster than you were ready for— wasn’t it 1979, like, an hour ago?

It didn’t hurt from a stardom standpoint— the record sales didn’t bother you, even when there were less of them.  You didn’t need to be famous, half the time you didn’t even like it, you just loved the music whether it was yours or someone else’s.

But it hurt seeing Eddie, because it made you realize how long it had really been.  It hurt wondering if tonight was the beginning of the end— but you had hope that you wouldn’t be facing the end alone.

As he focused on playing a complex solo, his tongue curled up over his lip.  Be careful, Ed, I dunno if these girls can handle that…

Looking out over his crowd again, your gut burned as you saw the girls fawning over him, even if you couldn’t blame them.

You watched the rest of his set from the best seat in the house, which was actually standing up just behind the curtain, until you heard Eddie speak into the microphone: “You guys have been great!  We would stay forever if we could, but this is our last song…”

Heart pumping, you stumbled back and out of the way, retreating to your green room— you weren’t ready for him to walk by, you weren’t ready for him to ignore you, or kiss you, or slap you, or whatever he was going to do.

He was probably over it; he probably didn’t even care, so casually flaunting his one-that-got-away-ness in front of you.  You slammed your door shut behind you, pouring yourself a quick drink and tossing it back in a second.  It dulled your nerves but only worsened the sickness gathering in your stomach.  This was everything you’d been waiting for since 1985, but it was so terrifying now that it was here.  Everything could go wrong.

But of course he still wanted you, right?  He had to, he was one of your biggest fans just a few years ago.  But wow, time can change so much— and you had no idea he could play like that.  It only made you more attracted to him, right when you were trying to play it cool.

You heard the crowd going wild, you heard the music come to a halt, and you knew you were supposed to be getting ready for your own set.  Right now, you weren’t sure if you could even name one of your own songs…

Well, probably just one— the one about him.  In your mind, it was sort of a graduation present from you to Eddie— but you weren’t even a hundred percent sure he ever heard it.

You waited a few minutes, hoping maybe Corroded Coffin would be gone when you stepped out— yet praying that they wouldn’t be— but when you entered the hallway again, you found a typical scene between the opener and headliner: musicians and their most privileged fans everywhere, getting in the way of crew trying desperately to set up between acts, and Eddie right there in the middle of all of it.

He was sitting on an amp, fiddling around on his acoustic, girls hanging off of his arm and sitting in a circle around him.  Christ.

Hesitantly, you walked up to the group, crossing your arms and watching for a moment.  "Guess you made it out of your garage phase," you smirked.

He looked up at you, his strumming coming to a halt, as he gave you a knowing smile.  "Yeah," he offered; his voice was eerily familiar yet different, and you wondered if things were too different now.  If you and him were basically strangers, and you'd just have to wave hello and leave all that history behind.

After all, you'd only met once before, technically.  But to you, it felt like your story wasn't over yet.

“Oh my god,” one of the girls jumped up to you, “I— I’m such a huge fan!”

“Oh?  That’s nice to hear,” you offered her, glancing between her eyes and Eddie’s a few times.  “I— do you want me to sign anything?”

“That would be amazing,” she beamed, “I’ve— I’ve got one of your CDs right here.”

“Ah, a CD,” you nodded as she pulled it out of her purse and you got your trusty metallic Sharpie from your back pocket, “that’s how I know you’re one of the new kids.”

“You can make it out to Pearl,” she decided as you took the album from her, “that’s me.”

“Will do,” you agreed, uncapping the pen with your teeth and writing over the cover.

“I actually wanted to ask you something,” she said.

“Yeah?” you prompted, mostly focused on writing.

“My favorite song of yours is Pretty Boy,” she explained, “from your new album?  I wanted to ask you who it’s about.”

You glanced at Eddie again, finding him still smiling at you.  Of course he knew, he barely had to listen to the verse to figure it out, it wasn’t exactly cryptic.  Can’t take you home when there’s no home to go to, still remember you with all the guys that I go through, it was pretty obvious.  “Uh,” you stalled, voice slurred a bit from talking with a pen cap in your mouth, “it’s… not really about anyone.  It’s just about the idea of someone.”

You handed her back the CD and put your marker away.  “Wow,” she smiled when you gave it back, reading the message to herself.  Pearl— don’t be a slut, with your signature across the bottom.  Her smile faltered slightly, but she thanked you weakly. 

“That’s good advice,” you informed her sternly as she sat back down.

“You know,” Eddie piped up, making your heart beat faster, “I wanted you to sign something of mine, too.”

You smirked at him, summoning some confidence from deep within yourself.  “Kid, you’ve already got my name written all over you.”

A few of the girls started whispering to each other, and Eddie glanced down— he didn’t seem too caught off-guard, but his cheeks did flush.  “Then maybe you can make my guitar match,” he suggested.

“Sure,” you agreed, and he stood up, lifting the guitar’s strap over his shoulder so he could hold it out for you and your re-uncapped marker.

Your hands were almost shaking, at the worst possible time, as he stood so close, staring at you with those eyes.  You thought about what you might write, and decided as you made contact with the glossy wood.

Eddie,

I’m still waiting for you.

As you put your signature at the bottom, you were startled slightly by a flash; you turned to see one of the girls had taken an instant photo, and she pulled it out and shook it as it developed.  “Sorry,” she mumbled sheepishly, “just a little piece of rock and roll history.  Legends meeting for the first time!”

You didn’t correct her; Eddie just nodded.  “You’ll have to send that to Rolling Stone,” he decided.

“There you go,” you announced as you finished the signature, watching him read what you’d written.

“Thanks,” he smiled, turning the guitar and holding it forward so he could look at it better before looking at you again.  “Any chance I could bum a smoke?”

One of the girls started to reach into her bag, but without even looking at her, Eddie held his hand out and she froze.  “Actually, I—” quit, you were about to say, but then you met his gaze.  He really was still that boy you found waiting outside the back of a smaller stadium nearly four years ago— his eyes were the same: tender, pleading, hopeful.  You knew the feeling well.  “I… have a pack in my dressing room,” you offered.

“Great,” he smiled.

“Aw, don’t go!” one of the girls whined, the rest joining in a chorus of moping.  

“Uh— hey!  There’s Gareth!” Eddie pointed.  “Will you girls go cheer him up?  He, uh, just broke up with his girlfriend.”

Eddie gave his best sympathetic sigh as the girls’ eyes lit up; and while the cloud of adorers descended on the drummer, you guided Eddie back with you across the backstage tunnel, tumbling through the green room door with him.

When you were both on the other side and the door shut, he didn’t even give you a chance to offer him a drink, now that he was definitely old enough— he just kissed you, with every ounce of passion he’d been saving for you all this time.  You whimpered and grabbed his face, holding him close, letting his tongue roam wherever and tasting his smile in return.

He pushed you back against the wall, pulling your hips against his, pressing all of himself against you; he tried to break the kiss to say something, but you pulled his face towards you again, you just needed a little more.

He hummed against your lips, and you let him go so he could kiss your neck instead.  Your back was already arching up off the wall, and you felt his hands slide up the back of your shirt, tickling the dip of your spine, finding the clasp of your bra and undoing it in a moment so he could bring his hands around to the front and grope your chest.

You grinned as his fingers toyed with your nipples and squeezed your sensitive skin; there was more experience behind his movements than before, yet the same boyish eagerness under it all.

That said, your grin faded when he pulled your shirt and bra up, exposing you to the air, indulging himself in a glance and a sigh at your breasts before he put his mouth on them.  “Fuck,” you whined.  “Eddie, fuck.”

Your hands reached up and tangled in his hair, and he moaned around your skin, moving to the other nipple while his fingers gently pinched the first.  “Say my name again,” he demanded.

“Make me,” you countered.

He stopped right away, spinning you around as you held your hands against the wall to keep yourself upright.  He pressed his back up to yours, letting his hips rock so you could feel his erection against you and you purred.  The way his fingers quickly unbuttoned your jeans reminded you a bit of the way he fingered his guitar on stage; the way he pushed your pants and underwear down and grabbed a handful of your ass before giving it a sudden spank reminded you of someone totally different from Eddie.  I guess a lot can change in a few years…

“You gonna fuck me or what?” you sighed.  “I’ve gotta be on stage any minute now.”

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he promised— or maybe it was a warning.  "But I'm not your groupie anymore, sweetheart, I'm a star, and I fuck like one.  All those girls wanted me to do to them what you did to me— but all I want is to be buried in you."

You hummed proudly turning around and facing him so you could start working on his belt for him.  “Did you miss me?” you wondered, taunting with your question, but he wasn’t fazed.

“‘Course I did,” he smiled.  "I wasn't a virgin when we met, but I still think you made a man outta me that night.  You even let me come in you, you remember that?  So dirty," he smirked, a hint of a snarl on his smile as he scrunched up his nose for a second.  "You just want this cunt bred, huh?"

"Damn," you sighed, "you’re all grown up— and you got nasty."

He laughed breathlessly, looking down.  "Guess I did.  You haven't changed, though."

He guided you across the room, to the vanity, where he spun you around and bent you over quickly— not too rough, but definitely hurried— yanking your head up by your hair so you had to look in the mirror.

"Want you to see how pretty you are taking my cock."

He was inside you a moment later, and your eyes rolled back.  “Fuck,” you groaned, legs quivering as he started off right away; he gave you long, deep strokes that made your walls clench.

"I remember how you like it," he purred.  "Deep, and rough— and you like being in control.  But right now, I wanna see you lose control."

Well, that was the plan if he kept talking like that…

“I wanna see you come for me,” he continued, “exactly when I tell you to.”

“Yeah?” you chuckled breathlessly.  “If you wanted obedience you should’ve snagged one of those little tarts from the pit.”

“If you wanted me to play nice you should’ve taken me with you when we first met,” he shot back, fucking you harder as anger tinted his voice and his movements.  “Back when I was still an impressionable kid.”

“That’s— that’s exactly why I didn’t,” you explained through your teeth.  “I was trying to do right by you.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Yes!” you admitted.  “Yes, I wish I wasn’t such a damn good person, okay?  Now just fuck me, damn it!”

He laughed a little, but finally did as he was told, taking hold of your hips and setting a brutal pace.  

“S’this… this how you fuck your groupies?” you choked out.  

He laughed as he shook his head.  “No, I take my time with them.”

Fuck.  “I liked you better when you were nice.”

He smacked your ass again, making you whimper.  “Don’t lie to me.”

Touche… “Did you like me better when I was just your fantasy?” you managed to get out.

“No,” he sighed, leaning down and laying his body over yours, holding you tighter.  “No, I like you best like this— here, with me.  Real.”

You whined and dropped your head down, hoping to hide your watering eyes, but he cooed as he pet your hair before grabbing it pulling you up again. 

“Look, baby,” he insisted, “I want you to see it— god, you’re so beautiful.  Look how beautiful you are.”

“Y-you’re beautiful, too,” you blurted out as you watched his face in the reflection, still a bit red as he panted behind you, and he gave you a breathless smile

"Tell me how good it feels,” he instructed.

"So good, Eddie, your cock is so good," you groaned.

“Y’love it, huh?” he taunted, but his eyebrows knitted together when you shook your head.

“No, Ed— I hate this… I hate that I’m the one that made you bitter,” you admitted.  “You were so sweet before…”

He slowed down a bit, one hand brushing your hair out of your face as the other held your hips— tight, but not painfully so.  “I’m still yours,” he whispered by your ear, making you bite your lip to hold back a sob.  “Baby, I’m still yours.”

“Then why are you angry?”

“Because you’re not mine.”

You laughed— you actually laughed, and he hissed as it made you tighten on him.  “Damn, you got older, but you didn’t get much smarter, huh?” you noticed.  “I was yours from the start, Eddie.”

He fucked you harder— but not exactly in the rough way.  In a patient, but needy, way; and you felt him smile as he kissed your neck again.  “You’re just saying that,” he presumed teasingly.

“No— god, it’s real, it’s not just ‘cause we’re fucking,” you promised.  “I’m yours.”

He pulled out and dropped to his knees, suddenly colliding his mouth with your sopping cunt.  You whined as your legs quivered.  "Fuck, Ed—!"

He growled as he lapped at you hungrily.  "So sweet,” you could barely make out his mumbled groan when it was spoken right against your wet skin.  

You were amazed he had the patience to stop fucking you in the middle of that— amazed and slightly pissed.  “Fuck me,” you begged, “c’mon, I said I’m yours— I meant it.”

“You’re gonna make me come too fast if you keep saying you’re mine,” he explained.  “I don’t want it to end yet.”

“Well, we’re already out of time,” you noticed as you glanced at the clock, “I should be on by now… they’re probably looking for me.”

“Well, let’s help them find you,” he encouraged with one more lick up the seam of your cunt before he stood up and shoved his cock inside you roughly.  His pace was faster after that, careless to the way he hit the end of you every time— except it wasn’t careless, it was intentional.  "Uh huh, scream for my cock, it'll get your voice warmed up,” he encouraged with a smile.

“God, I’m way too close,” you groaned, toes curling inside your boots, back arching deeper even as he held your hips steady.  “Don’t make fun of me for coming so fast… I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

“I’m— Christ, I’m not in any place to judge, am I?  M’gonna come too,” he promised, “inside you.  Gonna let it all drip out of you while you’re playing your set.” 

Imagining that was what pushed you over the edge, actually.  “Eddie, I’m coming,” you sobbed, “fuck, I— don’t stop, don’t stop—”

“I’ll never stop, I’ll never fucking stop, I swear,” he grunted— and even though he stopped barely ten seconds later as his own orgasm hit him, you knew exactly what he meant.

You both caught your breath, and he held you close as his legs gave out— which meant you both fell onto the floor, but you hardly noticed; you just let him pull you closer as your eyes fluttered shut.

It was a beautiful, peaceful moment for exactly two seconds before someone banged on the door.  “WE NEED YOU TO SET UP!!” a crew member bellowed through the wood.

“GIMME A MINUTE!” you screamed back, making Eddie laugh behind you— and you followed suit.  “Not so romantic, huh?”

“Nah, it’s perfect,” he assured softly, running his fingers down your back.  “I’m sorry I was mean.”

“I deserved it,” you sighed, “I’m sorry I left you in Indiana in 1985.”

He scoffed.  “I deserved that, too.”

You relaxed as he pulled your back into his chest, kissing along your neck.  “I’ve gotta get up and get myself together,” you reminded him.

“Okay,” he sighed, letting you go so you could awkwardly climb up and start pulling your pants back on.

He just laid on the floor and watched you for a second, before shoving his cock back in his own jeans and standing up to correct his button and fly.  

You bent down to look in the vanity again, wiping under your eye to carefully remove the evidence of an eyeliner-stained tear.

"I fell in love with you back then," he said suddenly, and you smiled, though you didn’t turn around.

"When we met?" you assumed.

"Before that," he replied.  You stood up this time and faced him, heart beating so hard it made you wonder if he could see your chest moving.  "Before you even knew me, before I really knew you, I loved you.  I worshiped you.  And before you even took me for yourself, I was yours.  I still am, baby— I'm still yours, and I always was."

“Do you still love me?” you asked hesitantly— only because you knew you were ready for a no.

“Yes,” he smiled, stepping closer to you, “of course.”

"I never stopped thinking about you," you promised quietly.  "I never forgot you."

He grabbed your hands suddenly, holding them up with his between the two of you, and you stared at them before you looked up at his eyes instead, brimming with optimism just like you’d dreamed of him for years.  "I'm not letting you leave me again," he insisted.  "You know how good we are together.  You know I'll always love you.  C'mon and let me be yours, angel— I'm gonna love you so much you won't know what to do with yourself."

You smirked.  "I think you're always mine, whether I let you or not."

"I think you wanna marry me."

You nearly choked, and you felt your cheeks burn but you tried to keep your cool.  "Bold claim."

"What if I ask you now?"

"You got a ring?"

"Do I?" he snorted, pulling a skull off of his right middle finger and getting down on one knee as he brandished it for you.  "I don't want anyone else.  You don't need anyone else.  No more of this ships in the night crap— us, forever."

"A skull?  Not the most romantic."

"Oh, but it is," he grinned, "til death do us part, babe.  It was almost four years ago I said I'd follow you anywhere, I meant it, and I'll follow you to the grave."

The sound tech banged loudly on the door again.  "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE ON TEN MINUTES AGO, THE CROWD'S GONNA REVOLT," he bellowed.

"I need to play my set, Eddie," you reminded the man on his knee before you. 

"Then play," he agreed, "and give me your answer after the encore."

You leaned down and kissed him, more gently than you’d allowed yourself before.  “I will,” you promised.  

You dashed out of the dressing room and towards the stage, a thousand people swarming around you to put your earpiece in, fling your guitar around your shoulder, brush powder over your face— and in a whirlwind of a few seconds, you were right there in front of the crowd, your band surrounding you.  The crowd cheered, and your heart swelled; I’ve still got it.

“Good evening, Indianapolis!” you greeted through the microphone, and the roar grew.  “Are we having fun tonight?”

It was easy, but it worked, and they applauded and whooped excitedly.

“How was that opener?” you prompted, and they cheered again.  “Is it just me or was that frontman kinda cute?”

A more feminine cheer answered as if to say, it’s not just you.

“Hope you like this first song,” was your simple introduction before the drummer counted you off and you all began to play.

All in all, it was a great show.  Crowd was good, band killed it (as always), and aside from a moment of feedback from one of the speakers, it all went pretty much perfectly.  And that was all in spite of your mind being totally overwhelmed with thoughts of Eddie.  Normally, music cleared your head, but nothing could keep your thoughts from everything that had just happened— and not even just that!  You were thinking about that first night, about how young he was then; about when you called him and he stayed on with you until you fell asleep so you wouldn’t have to spend another night alone; about when he first looked at you backstage half an hour ago, holding onto his guitar, surrounded by girls but looking at you like you were the only woman in the world.

Shows always went by fast, especially when they went this well, but this one seemed to go by in a moment— and there you were, waiting in the dark, hearing them chant.

Encore, encore, encore!

You were about to go back out, but you smiled to yourself as you grabbed a stage manager by the sleeve.  "Get me the lead guitarist for Corroded Coffin— bring him out on stage."

"Now?"

"Now."

He ran off to search for Eddie, and you turned to your bassist, Alex: “Think we’ve made ‘em wait long enough?”

Jerome answered instead.  “Everybody knows you like to tease,” he smirked.

True, but not as true as it used to be.  “Let’s go back,” you announced, hearing a roar of applause wash onto the stage as the musicians took the stage once more.

"We missed you," you offered into the mic, hearing the crowd cheer.  "Want us to play one more?"

They screamed again, almost deafeningly, and you laughed.  You glanced over at the side of the stage and felt your heart melt just at the sight of Eddie there, the stage manager getting him ready to go out.

"I've got someone I want you guys to meet first," you explained.  "An old friend of mine.  You know him best as the guy who rocked the fuck out of this place before I came on…"

As they figured out who you were talking about, their applause restored.

"If you don't mind, I'd like him to come out and play this song with me."

Of course, that only made them more excited.  I’ll show you rock and roll history, boys and girls.

You motioned for him to come out, and he walked on with a smile and a wave to the encouraging crowd.  "But I want you to know something else about him,” you continued as he grabbed one of your guitars and put it on, fiddling with it for a second to make sure he knew the sound and feel of the instrument.  “He's not just the hottest new sound in metal, and he's not just a heartthrob—"

The girls cheered louder at that.

"He's also—" you glanced at him, standing beside you at the other microphone, smiling back at you with slight confusion.  You took a deep breath in and out, surprised at how shaky it was.  You didn't think you got nervous anymore.  "He's also my fiancé."

You expected a huge reaction to that, but there was a pause first— a stillness that said, did we just hear that right?

Time seemed to slow down as you stepped up to him.  The crowd was frozen, and silent, and then they were gone.  Your band was gone, the crew was gone, it was just you and him in an empty stadium.

When you were in front of him, his eyes blinking at you, his smile soft and patient, you reached up and held his cheek.  "I promised I wouldn't forget you, Eddie," you whispered.  "Believe it or not, I tried.  But I couldn’t— because I love you."

He smiled back wider.  "I love you too," he returned.  "Wanna get married?"

You laughed a bit.  "Okay," you answered flippantly, and he pulled you into a sudden, powerful kiss.

Then the crowd was back, and louder than ever.  You felt Eddie's hand take yours, squeezing it before gently slipping the skull ring on your finger.  Yes, it was a little big, but it would do for now.

You returned to the mic with a smile as you addressed the crowd again.  "We're gonna play a song for you all, it's called Pretty Boy.  Do you know that one, Eddie?"

"I think I can keep up," he answered into his own microphone with a smirk.

"Then let's show 'em how good we are together," you decided, turning over your shoulder to make eye contact with the drummer as you counted off: "one, two, three, four!"

[godsmitedeli]

this is an absolutely perfect ending to a perfect series. you always write brilliantly.

i can just imagine eddie and reader being one of those famous power couples that everyone thinks are couple goals. like they’re just at a massive party one day and eddie is sitting on a couch in the corner with reader in his lap and they’re just whispering and giggling to each other and no one’s coming up to them because they know that they’re made for each other.

ahhhhhhhh! this ending is goddamn perfect!!!

[evilrry]

eddie munson “THIS MACHINE SLAYS DRAGONS” | woody guthrie “THIS MACHINE KILLS FASCISTS”

[storiesbyrhi]

No, but this is so telling of Eddie's character.

Firstly, we know his musical knowledge has fantastic depth and breadth. He doesn't just care about metal; he cares about the institution of music. He knows who Woody Guthrie is and he knows about 'this machine kills fascists', and he understands this enough to be able to apply it to his own world using a fantastic metaphor.

Secondly, the metaphor. In small town Indiana, in Hawkins, there are fascists and capitalists and dictators, sure, but Eddie is young and lives in a bubble. In his bubble - his kingdom, if you will - the villains are are the Jason Carvers of the world. They are the small minded. The big talkers. The full of shits. Church do gooders. Pearl clutchers. The dragons. And how does Eddie battle dragons? Music. He escapes into fantasy metaphor, which the metal genre entirely leans into. He escapes into Corroded Coffin and cassette collecting and big dreams of playing Madison Square Garden.

This machine slays dragons.

One little detail from the set/props department and I am again grieving the loss of one of the most interesting characters we've seen in so long. I mourn something we never properly had.

[eagerbby]

ᴄᴀɴ ᴡᴇ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ? - ᴇᴍ

pairing| Eddie Munson x female reader

synopsis| The year is 1999 and you might, quite possibly, be absolutely head over heels with a stranger you met online. Little do you know, he’s not as much a stranger as you first thought.

an| part two to ‘can I call you’, this has become a series and I’m incredibly thankful for all that read my silly little stories.

warnings| 2k, not much to warn about

Part 1

You sent him your number as soon as you got home from work, bounding up the stairs two at a time, locking your door and hurrying to your desktop as soon as you entered your room. Your parents aren’t home, off on some retreat that’s supposed to reinvigorate their marriage, whatever that means. Honestly you didn’t care, you’d spent the whole day watching the clock, waiting for your shift to be over so you could finally go home and talk to Eddie. 

Eddie. You haven’t been able to get him off your mind since you both started talking, which was pretty shocking to you. Couldn’t quite believe how quickly your small communication turned into a full blown friendship, to an unrelenting crush. You didn’t know him, not really, weren’t even sure if he was who he said he was but it didn’t seem to matter. You liked him. 

Keep reading

[godsmitedeli]

this one officer. this one right here is the one that stole my heart.

this is the absolute fucking best thing i’ve ever read

[amatchinwater]

I Know What You Want From Me / Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Song fic of 18 by Anarbor, your parents kick you out when you tell them you can't be with Jason because you're already dating Eddie...except that you aren't. So now you have to go to Eddie after not speaking for years and ask to not only live with him, but pretend to date you too. What could possibly go wrong there?

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, semi-public sex (they're in the woods), squirting, unprotected sex (reader on pill, but not stated until after), cream pie, choking, spanking, protective reader (Jason gets his shit rocked), angst with a happy ending, fluff, protective Eddie, reader's parents are awful

Words: 9746 (oops?)

a/n: I feel like I've been working on this forever and a day. With the finale, I had to stop because angst wasn't something I could handle just yet. But the fluff and ending makes the angst worth it. Requests are still open.

Master list

Part 2

Not my gif!! Credit to the lovely @msmischief101

It’s been a long time since you’ve pulled into Forest Hills Trailer Park. A really long fucking time. Part of you wants to turn around, just get on the highway and never look back at this godforsaken town and their prejudiced beliefs. That having money and a pristine lifestyle makes you worth something. It’s bullshit. And you fucking hate it. And you want out. Hell, your bags are already packed in the backseat behind you.

You’re eighteen, legally, if you really wanted to, you could run. Run as far away from not only Hawkins, but Indiana in general. Now that you’re eighteen, you have a sizable trust fund. Your father wanted to rescind your rights to it. Change it to where you’d only see a penny once you were twenty-one. Or worse; married. Somehow your mother convinced him not to do that, that you’d be able to use the money for college. 

You’re not even sure you want to do that either. 

But there was one person in your life who told you that no matter what you did, they’d always stick beside you. While that statement hasn’t held true these last six years or so, it was far from it being his fault. No, you shamefully hold that crown. 

Once you started to rise up the social ladder in school and your father got a big time promotion at work, your parents forced the social debutant bullshit on you. You hated every single second of it. Every one of those dumb parties they dragged you to. The dinners and get-togethers. They all sucked. And everyone there was so vapid and full of themselves, you wanted to scream. 

Now that you’re eighteen and “supposed” to be looking at prestigious colleges for some job you’ll never want, your parents did the worst thing imaginable. They tried to set you up. Quite literally wanted to give you an arranged marriage. God, the look your father gave you like it was supposed to be some wonderful gift you should be grateful for. As if being pawned off to someone like Jason Carver is to be coveted. 

Fuck that. 

So you did something really stupid. Like, really stupid. You told them that you couldn’t be with Jason because you were already with someone else. You’d hoped it would just be enough to make them drop the issue. It wasn’t. They poked and prodded until you gave them a name. You told them the only person in Hawkins you could even remotely think of. 

Eddie Munson. 

The conversation with your parents was pretty short after that. Being told to pack your bags and not come back if you wanted to align yourself with “someone like him.” That if you were grown up enough to make your choices, to go live with him and see how long it lasts, and not to come crying to them when you wind up pregnant. 

You did exactly that. Grabbed everything you felt couldn’t be replaced and left. But for some reason, instead of just driving towards the town limit and getting the fuck out of dodge, you found yourself on your way to the trailer you used to spend a good chunk of your childhood in. 

Because you grew up there. You were once neighbors- something your parents try very hard to forget- and childhood best friends. You used to be on a first name basis with Wayne. And despite what everyone says about him, that he’s a freak or the satanist propaganda, you know Eddie. Knew Eddie. So maybe there was some small part of you that hoped Eddie was still that sweet kid at heart and would let you crash for a few months until graduation and then you could leave Hawkins for good. 

It was a stupid idea from the start. One not fully formulated or even properly processed. 

But here you are, pulling up to the familiar, yet foreign trailer with Eddie’s van parked right out front. And of course it’s pouring rain. The day your life goes to shit wouldn’t be a nice, calm evening. No. When have you ever been that lucky? When is anyone that lucky? 

Turning the engine off, you sit and listen to the rain patter against the roof of your car. Contemplating leaving again. Maybe the real reason you came here was so that you would be convinced to stay. Eddie has never been one to run from his problems. The bloody nose he gave Jason a year ago for taking a swing on him is proof of that. So maybe you really want someone to tell you to man the fuck up and grab life by the balls or some shit. 

Just some strange words that manage to sound inspiring because they’re coming from Eddie’s goofy grin. 

“Fuck it,” you grind your teeth, shoving your door open and stepping out into the storm, wincing when the freezing water sinks into your skin. “Shit, shit, shit,” you jog up to his front door, thankful for the awning over the porch. Not letting yourself be talked out of this, you pound on the door to be heard over Shout at the Devil being blasted from Eddie’s room. 

“Henderson, I already told you-” Eddie’s yelling as he yanks open the front door, “-you’re not Henderson.” 

“No,” you shiver, hands rubbing your arms. How did you possibly get drenched in the ten steps it took you to get from the car to his door? Eddie’s features are guarded and you can’t help but shiver again. From the cold or his stare, you’re not really sure. Maybe you should just leave. The highway is sounding more and more tempting. “I should just-” you trail off, gesturing back towards your car.

Eddie finally takes a look at your state and his eyes widen, furrowed eyebrows losing their tension, “no, come in,” he opens the door further. “I-I’ll get you a towel,” Eddie runs off. 

Shaky bones carry you over the threshold, goosebumps only getting angrier at the warmth of the trailer. It looks exactly like it did the last time you were here. Except maybe a few more hats have joined the collection on the wall. Eddie comes back with two towels, placing one on the couch and offering you the other. “Thanks,” you take it, toweling your hair before wrapping it around your shoulders, sitting on the one he’d set down for you. “I’m sorry to just barge in like this,” your eyes begin to burn with tears. 

“What happened? Are you okay?” Eddie sits beside you and you can practically feel his warmth radiating off of him. That's how cold you are. 

“I did something really stupid,” you admit, shaking your head, wanting to curl up in a hole. “My parents want to hand me over to Jason. Pretty bow and everything,” you choke out a laugh. “Like I’m some prized trophy wife or some shit.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie nearly shouts. You laugh sarcastically, nodding your head. His face twists, “but hang on, that’s a stupid thing they did. What stupid thing did you do?”

You fiddle with the fraying corner of the towel, dropping your gaze to your lap, “I told them that I couldn’t be with Jason.”

“That doesn’t seem stu-”

“Because I’m in a relationship with you,” you pull your head back up, meeting deer in the headlight brown eyes and a slack jaw. Nerves make your tongue ramble, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I told them that. You were the first person that came to mind when they wouldn’t stop asking me who could be more important than Jason. And I just- I didn’t know what to do. So I just thought- I don’t know what I thought. But w-we used to be best friends once, I-”

“Yeah, once,” Eddie tongue in cheek scoffs, “then you got popular and I didn’t matter anymore. So, what? You thought you would just come here and I would live up to this fantasy relationship? Because it’s you?”

Your head drops again, “they told me if I wanted to be with you that badly that I should go live with you. That they didn’t recognize their daughter anymore. They kicked me out, or maybe I just ran. I don’t know, Eddie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into this.” Tears spill from your eyes, when you look back up at him, “I’ll just get back in the car and leave town like I should’ve done in the first place. I’m sorry,” you take the towel off your shoulders and place it in his lap, getting up off the couch. 

You make it all of three steps until Eddie’s hand wraps around your wrist, “wait.” He sighs as you turn to face him. “Let me get this straight, you told your parents you were dating me because I was the only person you could think of that was better than Jason?” 

Rolling your eyes, you scoff, “well, duh.” It might have been instinct that made you say it, doesn’t make it any less true. Jason doesn’t hold a candle to Eddie in any situation. Not to you. Years of separation be damned. 

“And you now have nowhere to live?” You shake your head no. Eddie sighs again, “I’ll do it.” 

“W-what?” You ask. Because surely you heard him wrong. Eddie doesn’t owe you a fucking thing. “What do you mean you’ll do it?” 

“I’ll help you keep this facade that we’re dating for the sake of your parents and Jason,” he sneers at the name. “Move in here with me, Wayne won’t mind. He still asks about you from time to time, I’m sure he’d love the idea. And then, when you graduate, you’re free to do whatever you want.”

Blinking rapidly, you nearly stumble backwards. Shocked that Eddie would do this. “Why?”

“Your parents are assholes,” Eddie laughs and you do too. He’s far from wrong. “Pissing them off by pretending to date you and giving you a safe place to live? Fuck yeah, I’ll do it. Besides, I’m sure if they told you about it, Jason already knows. Which means I get to make that asshole jealous. It’s a win-win.” He laughs again, softer this time along with his smile. “And you’re right. We were best friends once, maybe we could be again.” 

“I really don’t give a fuck what Jason or my parents think, Eddie. I’m just sick of them thinking that they can control me,” you tell him. “But if giving them the finger is enough incentive for you, then I appreciate it. For what it’s worth, I really miss having you as my best friend.” 

“Me too,” he smiles, pulling you into a hug. “How about you go take a shower and I’ll make you some hot chocolate. Booze free this time,” Eddie chuckles.

You laugh, remembering when you were younger and neither of you thought Wayne would notice the vodka two twelve year olds put in their drinks. “Honestly, I probably wouldn’t mind it this time around,” you pull away. 

“Comin' right up,” Eddie grins, heading into the kitchen while you go down the hallway. 

Stopping at the bathroom you poke your head around the corner, “hey, Eds.” He stops humming, milk hoovering the pot, quirking an eyebrow at you. “Thank you,” you smile, tucking into the bathroom to shower off before he can answer. 

—

At school the next day, you’re not really sure what to expect. Eddie drove you in his van and you were given more than a few looks from people you don’t even know. Which were thankfully easy enough to ignore. Somehow you’re also lucky enough that all of your classes before lunch didn’t have a single one of your “friends” either. Friends meaning Jason’s friends who were nice to you because you had money and a pretty face. 

But your actual lunch period? Practically the entire basketball team shared the same block as you. And the second you walk out of the lunch line, Jason immediately finds you. You’re wearing darker clothes and have certainly kept your head down. How the fuck did he find you so fast? 

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he smiles with too much teeth. Voice so sweet it’s sickening. 

“Should’ve hid better,” you mumble, clutching your tray to your chest to keep a barrier between the two of you. “Did you need something?” You ask, eyes scanning the room to find literally anyone you could run to to save you from this. You find Eddie’s friends from Hellfire all around the table, but no sign of Eddie himself. You know their names thanks to Eddie telling you about them last night. But you don’t really think you can just go up to them for help. 

“Well, I was talking to your parents the other day,” he pushes his hands farther into his letterman jacket pockets, ducking his head to appear coy. “I was hoping you’d like to go on a date with-”

An arm snakes around your waist and you nearly jump out of your skin, until you hear, “there you are, babe.” Eddie curls you close to him, kissing the side of your head, “you ready to go sit?” 

You turn to him with a grateful smile, ready to answer, but someone else’s words come out. 

“What the fuck is this?” Jason snaps. 

“I’m sure you know Eddie,” you smile sweetly, fighting the eye roll at the jock before you. “My boyfriend,” you state, loving the way Jason’s eyes are ready to bulge out of his head. Eddie chuckles smugly beside you, his grip tightening only just. You’re actually glad he’s getting something out of this too. Even if it’s just shoving it in Jason’s face. Makes it feel like you’re not using him.

“I thought they were joking!” Jason seethes, “you’re seriously with this freak? You chose him over me? A freak?” 

“Eds, could you hold this please?” You extend your tray towards him, which he takes with a confused expression. “Thanks,” you kiss his cheek, turning your attention back to the blonde. “One, no, it’s not a fucking joke. Two, he’s not a freak. And three,” you slap Jason right across the cheek with a resounding crack, silencing the cafeteria. “If I hear you say some shit like that about him again, you’ll be lucky a slap is all you get. Fuck off, Jason.” 

“Holy shit,” Eddie sputters a laugh, “that was fucking awesome!” Wrapping an arm around your shoulder, Eddie walks you towards the Hellfire table, neither of you caring about the grumbling jock behind you. Or the hushed chatter that’s fallen over the cafeteria. “And here I thought I was the one coming to your rescue,” he teases, placing your tray on the table surrounded by his wide eyed friends. “Come here,” Eddie sits down, his arms locking around your waist to pull you into his lap. “Thank you.”

“I’m your girlfriend, Eddie,” you remind him. Though it’s just for show, it doesn't mean that you’re not going to act the way a proper girlfriend should. Defending your boyfriend from an asshole definitely fits the bill. “I’m not going to stand by and let someone talk about you like that.” 

“So I definitely heard that right?” Dustin, if you remember correctly, stares at you two. “You two are dating? Since when?” He shrieks. 

You freeze for a second, you hadn’t thought that through. 

“For a few months now,” Eddie offers, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles on your waist. “Her parents are pretty strict," he rests his chin on your shoulder, humming in contemplation, "so we’ve been keeping it quiet for a bit. But, she was ready to go public with it.” 

“Slapping Carver in front of the whole cafeteria is pretty public,” Jeff laughs, “and pretty sick!” He offers his fist to you. 

You can’t help but laugh, feeling welcome at their table as you reciprocate the fist bump. It’s actually really nice. 

“My girl doesn’t mess around,” Eddie turns, kissing your neck. 

Maybe you two should’ve gone over some boundaries. Because that felt a lot better than it should’ve and you two aren’t even technically together. But then you remember that everyone is supposed to believe this so that Jason and your parents leave you alone. If even anyone suspects it’s not and word gets out that this isn’t real- you shiver at the very thought. And the way Eddie said ‘my girl’ sent a whole different kind of tremor down your spine. 

What have you gotten yourself into?

—

Somehow you managed to survive the first two weeks of publicly “dating” Eddie. Jason for the most part has left you alone and you haven’t seen or heard from your parents either. It’s so freeing. It makes you wish that you had stuck to your guns when you guys had moved out of the trailer park and kept Eddie in your life. Even listening to them and doing everything they wanted, they still turned around and did the worst thing imaginable. So what else could they have really done if you’d stuck by Eddie’s side the whole time? 

It’s too late to know now, but at least you can make up for the lost time by being here now. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind it. The dinners you share while Wayne is at work. The hasty breakfasts the three of you share in the mornings before school. The weekends though, the weekends are your favorite. Because unless Corroded Coffin has a gig, you and Eddie just hang out at the trailer together. 

“What did you wanna do today?” You ask, flopping down on the couch beside Eddie and throwing your legs on his lap. 

Rubbing your exposed calves, he purses his lips, “I was thinking I should probably take you on a date.” Eddie leans his head on the backrest of the couch to look at you. “You’ve been living here for two weeks now. While it’s all good and well that we’ve been annoying the living hell out of Jason at school, you know how people in this town love to gossip.” 

“Okay,” you draw out the word, furrowing your brows. Not really understanding why Eddie is willingly wanting to be with you romantically outside of school. That would make this feel real. You’d definitely feel like you were using him if you did that. 

“If people see us walking around town together, I’m sure word would get back to your parents.” Eddie pats your leg, “Jason isn’t the only one we’re supposed to be convincing, right?” 

He’s got a point. If your parents get a whiff of this relationship’s fallacies, they’ll drag you back home kicking and screaming. “What’d you have in mind?” You ask, warming up to the idea quickly. 

“There’s a double-feature of Nightmare on Elm Street at the theater tonight,” he shrugs, tracing shapeless designs on your skin. “We could do that and then walk around town with ice cream or some shit. That’s a couple-y thing to do, right?” 

You smile brightly, basking in his shyness. “That sounds really nice, Eds,’ you nudge him with your foot. “Most girls would swoon over a date like that. Well, they’d fight for some romantic movie. But I’m so down for Freddy. When does it start?” 

“About an hour.” 

“I’ll go get ready!” You hop up from the couch, practically running out of the living room, leaving Eddie chuckling on the couch. 

“Thank you,” you hear Eddie say, grabbing your ice cream cones from the girl behind the window of the cute little ice cream shop in town. “M’Lady,” he offers you your chocolate peanut butter scoops, holding his now free hand out for you to hold while you walk back to the van. He’d left it parked by the theater so you could have the whole ‘experience’ of a date. Eddie is just as serious as you are about making this seem real.

He’d even apologized to you for the neck kiss and you sitting in his lap. Explaining to you that he’s a pretty tactile person, that he’s only acting how he would if he was actually dating someone. He was adamant in you telling him if he makes you uncomfortable- he doesn't. Your heart throbbed painfully in your chest that you’re keeping some girl from being in an amazing relationship with such a sweet guy. Even more so when there’s an even worse pang at the thought that you don’t have this for real for yourself either. That this thing you have going with Eddie is fake. 

There’s this small part of you wondering if this could be real. 

“Thanks,” you smile, taking his hand, licking the creamy goodness. Eddie laughs a little at you while you’re walking and eating your desserts. “What?” You ask, licking your lips. 

“You got a little-” Eddie gestures towards your face. A group of girls walk past you arm in arm and Eddie smiles, “here, let me.” He leans in and kisses you, tongue brushing along your bottom lip for the smallest of seconds. Enough to send a shiver down your spine that certainly can’t be explained by the ice cream when his mouth is so warm. “Better,” he grins again, dragging his thumb from the corner of your mouth. 

There’s a blush violently burning your cheeks as you blink rapidly. You don’t even know what to say, so you turn your head, biting away a smile and reclaiming his hand to walk down the road again. “Thank you for tonight,” you say, tossing your napkin in the trash as you pass it. “It-” you pause, thinking you heard someone call your name. Shaking it off you try again, “it was really nice. So, thank you.” 

“Of course,” he drops your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. Kissing the side of your head, Eddie says, “I’m glad you had a good time. Enough people are out tonight so-”

“Y/N!” 

You definitely heard it that time. Eddie did too. Whipping around, you see your parents stalking their way towards the two of you. Speak of the devil, right? “Fuck,” you curse under your breath, anxiety stowing only just at the protective way Eddie tightens his hold around you. 

“Say the word and we run, okay?” He whispers in your ear, "I've got you." 

All you can do is nod as your parents come to a halt in front of you. Your father barely even looking at you, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Your mom on the other hand can’t decide who to set her daggers for eyes on, you or Eddie. 

“Mrs-”

“Don’t.” Your mother holds her finger up at him, “you don’t get to talk.”

“Excuse me?” You sputter out.

“And you,” she sets her fury on you now, “it’s time for you to come home young lady. Enough playing house with him,” you mom can’t even say his name, yet the word holds the same amount of venom. “This isn’t you. Please, just come home and all will be forgiven.” 

Anger boils inside of you. Not asking how you are or caring if you’re happy. Just more of them telling you that you’re ‘not yourself’ and you’re so over it. “Fuck that,” you snap. “I’m not going anywhere with you. My home is with Eddie. Yeah, he has a name, mom,” you lace the word with as much disdain as she’d offered him. Shocking her to her core not only from your language, but your behavior. Good. You finally feel like yourself.

“Then we’ll cut you off,” your dad’s stern voice cuts in. “See how long it takes you to come crawling back with no money.” 

“First of all,” you square your shoulders, “both Eddie and Wayne make money. Second,” you chuckle dryly, “you’re really going to love this. I went to the bank. I’m eighteen now in case you forgot. I transferred everything into my own account. That money is mine. But if it means more to you than your own daughter, I’ll gladly give it back. I can very easily get a job. I don’t need anything from you.” 

Your father puffs his chest, “listen here-”

“No, I think it’s time you listen,” Eddie cuts him off. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with her or how she chooses to live her life. She is fucking incredible! And there's definitely no thanks to you fucking assholes. She’s an adult and capable of making her own decisions. And unlike you, I’d never hurt her or force her to do something she doesn’t want to. You want to stay with me, right?” He looks over at you.

It’s rhetorical, you're almost certain. But you answer it anyway, “absolutely.” 

“There is it,” Eddie grins widely, opening his arms at your parents. “She’s made her choice.”

“Let’s get out of here,” you pull gently on Eddie’s jacket, trying to coax him away. Eddie death glares at your father, but starts moving with you, only turning once you’ve yanked a little harder. 

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Your father snaps, his hand grabbing your arm tight enough to hurt. 

You whip your head around to face him, seething, “let go of me.” Eddie looks furious, ready to punch him in the face and honestly, you’d probably let him. But that’s more of a scene than you’re willing to cause right now. You won’t let Eddie get in trouble over you. When your dad makes no move to let go of you, you say, “let me go or I’ll scream.” 

He drops your arm as though it’d burned him, whispering your name with hurt eyes. 

“Come on, princess,” Eddie’s arm curls back around your shoulders, keeping you close. No longer face to face with your parents, your chest tightens and your eyes burn. Not because you miss them, but all of your emotions have boiled over, demanding release through tears. “Wait just a minute more,” Eddie rubs his nose in your hair, “don’t give them the satisfaction.” He opens the passenger door for you and you crawl inside. 

The second he’s settled in his seat, the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry they said that to you,” you sob, chest constricting. 

“Why are you apologizing to me?” He stares at you wide eyed, speaking softly. “I should’ve punched him in the face for what he said to you, are you kidding?” Eddie reaches over, cupping your face and wiping your tears with his thumbs. “No one should talk about you like that. Especially not your parents.” 

“Can we just go home please?” You ask, hoping sheer willpower will make your tears cease. Your eyes already feel sore. 

“Of course,” he rubs your cheeks again, leaning closer to kiss your forehead. “Here,” Eddie pulls his leather jacket off, handing it to you, “you’re shaking.” 

You smile softly, sliding your arms through the sleeves, the scent of Eddie so close calming you down enough that the tears well up, but don’t fall. It’s one thing to defend Eddie from some dickhead jock like Jason. Watching him stand up for you to your own parents, treating you vastly better than they ever have? Heartwarming doesn’t even come close.

—

“Do you need anything?” Eddie asks after you’ve showered and are just sitting up in bed, he’s changed into sweats now and a faded Metallica shirt. 

“Not unless you have something that can make my mind be quiet long enough to let me sleep,” you answer, curling your legs to your chest and holding them. 

Eddie purses his lips, “I could roll us a joint,” he offers. “I usually smoke before going to sleep. It could help. Only if you want to.” 

“I’ve never smoked before,” you whisper, embarrassed by the fact that you’re ‘dating’ a drug dealer, yet have never done any yourself. “But I trust you,” you try to smile, but it falls flat. Still a little too upset over earlier. “I’m willing to try if you think it will help.” 

“Best sleep you’ve had in a while,” Eddie smiles, walking over to his dresser, grabbing a wooden box from the drawer. “Are you sure?” He asks one more time, sitting down beside you, “I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you or anything.” 

“You’re not,” your smile is genuine this time, “I’m sure.” You stare at his fingers while Eddie pinches the weed into the thin paper. If you weren’t so upset, your brain would probably short circuit at the way his tongue glides along the edge. That shouldn’t be allowed to look like that. 

After he takes two puffs of his own, he hands the joint to you, blowing the smoke out. “You might want to take small hits,” Eddie suggests when you bring the rolled paper to your lips. “Small hits,” he repeats, hopping up from the bed, “I’m gonna get us a drink real quick. Small,” Eddie enunciates. 

You don’t really know what’s considered a small hit, so you inhale maybe halfway, doing your best to hold the smoke in your lungs before letting it out. A cough bubbles in your chest that burns nearly as much as the weed. Eddie comes back just in time with a can of soda for you. Cracking it open with a fond smile on his lips, he tosses some snacks on the bed beside you. “Not as bad as I thought,” you say after taking a sip. You take another hit, handing it back to Eddie once he’s seated. 

“Are you going to be okay?” He asks, squinting around the smoke trying to go in his eyes. 

With a heavy sigh, you prop yourself on the wall beside the bed, “I think so? I’m not even sure why I cried to be honest. They suck and I don’t know why I expected them to react any differently than that. I’m more angry about the way they treated you.” You take the joint back from him, Eddie scooting over until your thighs and arms are pressed together. Pulling the smoke into your lungs, you appreciate it not burning as badly as the first time around. Enough to take a bigger hit, “this is definitely helping. So are you,” you whisper. 

Eddie nudges you with his arm, “happy to help. You’re my best friend and I’m always going to be here to take care of you. Until you get sick of me that is,” he teases.

Laughter bubbles in your chest, your cheeks hurting from how much you're smiling. Whether that’s the weed or just Eddie in general doesn’t really matter to you. “Aww,” you coo, absolutely certain that your newfound confidence is from the drug, “I don’t think I could get sick of you, Eddie.” You tell him, playing with a lock of his hair, surprised when he doesn’t tell you to stop. “I’m really grateful for everything you’re doing. And I meant it, I don’t expect you and Wayne to take care of me for free. I’ll get a job if it comes down to it.” 

“Please,” he snickers, handing the roach to you to finish off, “Wayne is overjoyed that you’re here.” Eddie wraps his arm around your shoulder and you tuck your head into his neck. “If there was mention of you leaving, he’d probably pay you to stay. He really did miss having you around. I think he secretly always wanted a daughter.” He takes the almost burnt paper and places it in the ashtray by the bed. 

“But he got the metal head outcast with a heart of gold instead,” you smile though he can’t see it. “Just-” you huff a small breath, “thank you, Eddie. For everything.” 

Eddie kisses the side of your head, “of course, princess.” Too high to care, you giggle at the name shooting warmth throughout your system, but it’s broken off with a loud yawn. “Looks like I’ve done my job,” he chuckles softly, “I’ll let you get some sleep.”

You lay down on the pillow, pulling the blanket over you, but when Eddie tries to get up, you reach out and grab his hand. “Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” He whispers, soft eyes looking over your tired face. 

“Could you-” you swallow the barrier in your throat in the form of nerves. “Will you stay with me? I don’t really want to be alone right now,” your voice barely above a whisper. 

Eddie smiles softly, his thumb brushing along your knuckles, “yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” He lets go of your hand so you can move over to give him some room to lay down beside you. The moment his back touches the bed, you curl up to him, resting your head on his chest. A contented sigh sounding off listening to his heartbeat in your ear, along with a dopey smile on your face. “Better?” He teases, though his arms wrap around you, one hand rubbing your back while the other plays with your hair. 

“Thank you,” you mumble, already falling asleep. 

—

Controlling your emotions seems to get harder and harder the longer this plays out. Having Eddie back in your life is honestly the best thing that’s ever happened to you. And you couldn’t be more grateful for him. Not just for having him as your best friend again. But over the last month and half, your heart thought it would be a really good idea to evacuate your chest and take home inside his. Graduation was supposed to be the light at the end of the tunnel. Now it just seems like an ominous deadline.

The day you lose Eddie. 

You’re far from ready for that. In fact, being with Eddie, actually being with Eddie, doesn’t seem like all that bad of an idea. But this was supposed to be temporary, even for him. How in the hell are you supposed to propose that? It’s not like Eddie has shown you any hint that he’d want this to be anything but an act. At home, he’s just your friend. Aside from getting high together, he sleeps on the couch so that you can have the bed. 

What you should be focusing on is the book in your hands while the group plays through their session. But your eyes keep trailing back to the head of the table. Eddie, Dungeon Master himself, sitting on his throne while having the time of his life. He truly is a novelty to watch like this. Carefree and enjoying himself. It’s amazing. 

“NO!” Dustin yells, startling Pet Semetery right out of your hands. 

Usually you’re better at not jumping from their antics, but the teen does not sound happy. Meanwhile Eddie is cackling and knocks a piece off the board. Flicking your eyes around the table, you notice it was the last piece standing aside from the one indicating the monster the group had been fighting. They lost. 

“Another ruthless, unbeatable campaign?” You muse, looking at your thrilled ‘boyfriend’ while everyone gathers their things to leave.

“Always, princess,” Eddie bounds over to you, leaning on the armrests of your chair, “always.” The doors close, leaving you two alone. “Don’t act like you didn’t help.” 

Narrowing your eyes playfully, you look up at him, “yeah, I thought they’d at least have a chance though.” 

“You’re far too devious for anyone to stand a chance,” Eddie closes the distance and kisses you. 

Instinct and pure want for him, you kiss back for a moment. Pulling away with immense effort, speaking with a small voice, “no one’s here, Eds,” you whisper. “You don’t have to act like you want to kiss me,” you say, trying to gauge how he might feel about the situation. He just kissed you after you both heard the doors close. But you also don’t want to get your hopes up too high either. That there could be a reality where Eddie wants to be with you for real too. 

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, his face unreadable, “you’re right. Sorry,” he clears his throat again, “let’s go home.” 

When you grab your book and stand up, Eddie heads for the door, keeping a step or two of distance between you. Is this just how he would act if you guys weren’t pretending to be together? Because when you’re alone, he’s not this cold. Silent. Or did what you say upset him?

Even when you make it to his van and he opens the door for you and you mutter, “thanks,” all Eddie does is offer a pinched smile. 

His silence continues the entire drive home. Eddie doesn’t even sing along to the music he plays. Nor does he drum his hands on the steering wheel. It’s putting you on edge and you want to say something so badly. But you also don’t want to risk actually pissing him off either. So, you follow his lead. Not saying a word while he drives you both home. 

Things don’t get much brighter from then on either. Eddie follows you into the bedroom, grabs his acoustic guitar, and goes right back into the living room. You are absolutely not going to sit in bed and cry about change in behavior. Not at all. You’re going to do it in the shower so there’s no chance of Eddie hearing you, like a smart person. 

Smart, right. 

If you were so smart you’d tell Eddie how you really feel. 

—

“Are you coming to band practice today?” Eddie asks you while you’re putting some mascara on in the bathroom. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” he scratches the back of his head, “the guys do love it when you come though.” 

“Just the guys?” The teased question spills from your lips before you’d even had a chance to filter them out. But it’s out in the air now.

Eddie grins for the smallest of seconds, “I like when you watch us too. You actually give us honest opinions. Will you come?” 

“Can you give me two more minutes?” You ask, waving the mascara brush around, “I’m almost done.” 

“Take your time,” he smiles, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, “I’ll be out in the van.” 

Quickly, you finish your makeup and go back into the room to get your shoes on. Not wanting to wear a bra, you find one of Eddie’s hoodies and throw it on over your thin shirt. You’ve never seen him wear it, but his spicy cologne rests on the fabric. You allow yourself a moment to bring to sleeves that barely let your fingers peek out of it to your nose to breathe him in. The cologne, the smoke, the very essence of Eddie. Pretending that his arms are wrapped around you instead of his clothes. 

Not wanting to take too long, you snatch the book off the bed and run out the trailer to meet Eddie in the van. 

You sit through the covers of Iron Maiden and Motley Crue while you read your book. They’re actually really good and you do enjoy listening to them. It’s always nice to see Eddie in his element. Happy and perfectly himself. It isn’t until he mentions something about playing a new one that you start to pay attention a little more. It’s different from what they usually play, and has to be an original because you don’t recognize it either and can’t imagine any other voice than Eddie’s singing it. 

Then the chorus hits, and they have your full attention.

“So if you wanna piss off your parents, date me to scare them, show them you’re all grown up,” Eddie sings, his words the night you ran to him echoing in your head alongside the lyrics. “If long hair and tattoos are what attract you, baby, then you’re in luck.” 

Eddie wrote a song about you. Eddie wrote a fucking song about you! But your eyebrows furrow, because it doesn’t sound all that nice, to be honest. Like he’s letting his frustration out through it. You told him you didn’t care about what your parents thought, assuming that was just the incentive for him going through with this.

“You know, I’m broke, so you pulled out your Daddy’s card,” he continues with the song. The memory of you two grocery shopping together flickering in your brain. 

You had wanted to make dinner for him one night as a thank you, but couldn’t find much in his kitchen. He’d told you Wayne didn’t get paid until the weekend and that all his money from dealing went to take out. You promptly dragged him to the store and bought enough food to stock the entire kitchen. Yes, you even made sure he- and you when you chose to partake- had plenty of munchies around too. 

“Should’ve seen this coming from a mile away,” Eddie hasn’t looked at you once the entire time he sings. The rest of the guys just seem to be jamming out. Except Gareth, his face starts to twist, something mixed with confusion and understanding, his drumsticks almost falter. “I’ll play your game. I know what you want from me.” 

But this- this isn’t a game to you. Eddie isn’t a game to you. In its bones, it’s a great song. But your eyes are burning. Blurring with tears as the song goes on. Every lyric a knife to your heart. 

“And I know it’s just a phase, you’re not in love with me,” Eddie finally looks at you as a tear falls from your eye. You quickly wipe it away, seeing the same pain reflected in his big, brown eyes. “And I know it’s just a phase, you’re not in love with me. You wanna piss off your parents, baby. Piss off your parents, that’s alright with me.” 

The song ends and you hastily wipe the rest of your tears away, ducking your head back into your book so the rest of the guys don’t notice them. It’s bad enough that Eddie saw them. You knew you should’ve said something to him last night when he kissed you. You fucking knew it. And now you’ve hurt him. Hurt Eddie enough that he wrote a song to express himself. You feel like the biggest jerk there is. 

—

Something told you that you needed to drive yourself to school today. Eddie didn’t question it. You guys had another silent night at home. Didn’t talk about the song or confess your love to him. But you did decide that you will be doing that today. You just needed to have a moment to sort the words in your head into cohesive sentences. 

Then lunch rolled around and Eddie mentioned he’d be meeting Jason in the woods after school to sell to him. That sounded really fucking weird to you, he just waved off your concerns. But you also heard about Chrissy buying from Eddie too, so you didn’t think anything of it if he didn’t either. It wasn’t until you were walking to your last class that you happened to pass Jason in the halls talking to his friends about how they were going to jump Eddie when they met up that it all made sense. 

Why you wanted to bring your car. Why the whole concept of Jason buying drugs didn’t sit right with you. You skipped your last class to wait near the spot they’d meet. Your baseball bat sitting in your passenger seat. You’re not about to just let Jason hurt Eddie. But you’re also not an idiot. You watch from your hiding spot while Eddie sits on the bench waiting for the unknown threat to show up. 

He can take care of himself against Jason, that’s been proven. But you don’t want to see what would happen if it was three or more guys. When Jason first shows up with three other guys whose names you could care less to remember, your nerves light up. Eddie’s too because he rises from the picnic bench with his arms raised. Grabbing your bat, you get out of the car, careful to stay out of view. 

Inching closer, Jason’s voice finally makes it through, “she’d never actually want to be with a freak like you. No way. She wants to be with me, just like her parents want her to. Maybe if you let her go, we won’t hurt you.” 

Yeah, fuck that. Clenching your hand around the bat, you step into view, “back off, Carver,” you command. Swaying the wood back and forth. “I warned you once already.” 

“Princess,” Eddie warns, but you don’t want to hear it. He might have pieced together why Jason is here, but you’re not backing down. Never again. Not since the moment you stepped foot in his trailer what feels like ages ago.

“Can’t you see he’s corrupting you? Just come with me so that I can take care of you,” Jason yells back, looking honest to god perplexed. “This isn’t you. He’s messing with your head.” 

“He’s letting me live!” You shout, tired of everyone trying to tell you what’s best for you. Like you’re incapable of figuring that out for yourself. One thing’s for certain, it isn’t fucking Jason. And it isn’t your fucking parents either. “He takes care of me better than anyone else ever has! Eddie makes me happy!” 

“Aww, princess,” Eddie coos softly, making your heart swell. 

“Don’t make me say it again, Carver,” you swing the back at your side again.

“Grab him!” Jason snaps and two of the guys grab each of Eddie’s arms, pinning them behind his back. You hadn’t even noticed they were getting closer to him, you were so focused on making sure Jason didn’t do something stupid. Eddie struggles in their grip, loosening their hold, only to be forced still. 

Looks like Jason did do something stupid afterall. “I warned you, Jason,” you spit, swinging the bat, hitting him in the face with a satisfying thwack. He stumbles to the dirt, clutching his split, bleeding cheek. The remaining jock, not holding Eddie, helps Jason to his feet. Whipping your head to the others, “let. Him. Go,” you growl while Eddie stares at you with literal heart eyes. The boys keep their hold, flicking their gaze to their captain who's whining. Good. “Fine,” you huff, swinging the bat again, connecting with one of their legs. 

Eddie stumbles as they release him, the one you’d hit falling to the forest floor, yelling in pain. His partner in crime helps him up and you aim your bat again, a crystal clear warning. One that even Jason pays attention to and all four jocks limp away. Once they’re out of view, the bat thumps to the ground and you face Eddie. 

“Are you crazy?” He asks, pulling you close, staring in your eyes waiting for an answer.

“Don’t ever tell me again that I don’t love you, Eddie Munson, do you understand me,” you rush out, crashing your lips to his. A soft moan combined with an absolute sigh of relief pushes past your lips when he holds you tighter, pulls you even closer, and returns the kiss. 

“Why would you do that?” He breaks the kiss, holding you by the small of your back. “Where did you even get a bat from?” 

“That dick led you out here just to jump you. I heard him in the halls. I wasn’t going to just let him,” you roll your eyes, brushing his bangs from his eyes. “I told you it felt weird.” 

“And the bat?” Eddie repeats, looking where it's laying on the ground. 

“I’m a girl in a small town,” you state like it should be obvious. “It’s called self defense.” 

He snorts, “hot.” You playfully punch his chest, making him laugh. He quickly grabs your hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss our knuckles. “So, I make you happy, huh?” Eddie grins slyly, cocking an eyebrow at you. 

“Very,” you smile back, leaning in to kiss him again. Hard. Pressing into him until he’s backed against a tree, groaning into your mouth. “I’ve been wanting to tell you for weeks,” you admit, pulling at his bottom lip with your teeth. Lovingly swiping it with your tongue at his hiss from the action. 

Suddenly your back is against the tree and Eddie’s hips are digging into yours, the bulge in his jeans leaving nothing to the imagination as to whether or not he’s believing and enjoying your words. “I told you I wanted to marry you when we were kids,” he rasps in the small space between your mouths. “You coming to me soaked and asking for help, even as a ploy I’d accept it if it meant you being in my life again. I never stopped wanting you, princess. Ever.” 

“Good,” you reply, claiming his mouth again, Eddie’s hands gripping your hips. You moan when he kisses down your neck, biting at the crook and your eyes roll back. “Eddie,” you whine, trying to spread your legs for more friction. He shifts, his thigh pressing between your legs, rubbing beautifully against your clothed pussy. It’s not enough and you whine again, “Eddie, please.” Every pent up feeling you’ve had for the last month ready to burst at the seams. 

He chuckles against what’s surely a purple mark on your neck, “right here?” Eddie teases, licking your abused flesh, nipping his way back up. “Can’t let me take you home first?”

“No,” you say once his blown, brown eyes fall on your face, “I can’t. I need you, Eddie, please,” you gasp. Breathing becomes harder the longer his thigh digs into you, sparking flames deep in your core. 

“Right here in the woods, huh?” He asks, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. “Maybe Jason was right,” Eddie chuckles, cupping you where it aches, “maybe I did corrupt you.” 

“Good,” you moan, grinding against his hand, “I’m yours to corrupt, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes darken further, pupils widening and getting hazy, “that’s my girl.” His fingers undo your button and zipper before yanking you to him, pulling you back towards the picnic table. Pushing you down face first onto the wooden surface, he drags your pants and underwear down in one swift motion. “Look at you,” he tries to coo, but it’s so full of lust that it’s raspy and thick, “so wet for me already, princess.” Eddie kisses your spine, making you shiver, “last chance,” his hands rub your ass. 

“Please,” you croak, eyes burning, needing him inside of you right now. Groaning a guttural, “fuck,” when his tongue dips inside your dripping cunt. “Eddie,” you gasp, him eating you out better than you’ve ever felt before. The long licks and the way he pushes his tongue as far as it will go to tease at your clit. It’s intoxicating and before you can beg for more, two fingers push inside you and you keen. Hips bucking at the pressure against the bundle of nerves deep inside. 

Your moans turn to a mewl, Eddie nipping at the back of your thighs, his hand cracking over your ass. The sting shoots white hot jolts of electricity through you, an orgasm beginning to warm you from the inside out at a startling rate. Kissing your ass, you feel Eddie smile, “you taste so fucking good princess. So fucking good. God,” he groans, “and you’re all fucking mine. Aren’t you?” His fingers move faster and all you can do is moan and nod, thighs shaking with the need to come. “Aren’t you?” Eddie repeats with another slap to your ass, wanting an actual answer. 

Like he isn’t taking away your ability to form proper thoughts let alone understandable words. Huffing your breath, trying desperately to speak, “y-yes, yours,” your gasp, his tongue joining his fingers, flying you over the edge. Wave after beautiful wave slamming into you in quick succession. Had Eddie not had his fingers inside of you, you’d have slumped right off the table. “I’m yours, Eddie,” you groan when he removes his fingers, half hearing him undo his own belt and the slide of his pants. 

“Good girl,” he soothes the spot he’d smacked with loving strokes of his palm, spitting into his other hand. A whine escapes your lips feeling the head of his cock glide against your pussy. “Ready, princess?” Eddie asks, tapping your cunt with his dick. You think you say yes, you’re almost certain the word came out of your mouth. All you really care about is that Eddie heard your consent and his dick slams into you completely. “Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” 

A groan shifts to a whine when he slowly drags himself out of you to the tip, sliding back at the same pace. “Eddie,” you whine again, trying to push your hips back to make him move faster. The heat in your core burns at a dizzying rate from the surprising intensity of the leisurely roll of his hips. But his grip on you is sure, you’re completely at his mercy.

“Look at that,” he gasps out, doing it over and over. You can only imagine that he’s just watching himself disappear inside of you and enjoying it immensely. “So pretty,” Eddie moans, thrusting harder, but only just. Still pulling out till just the tip of his cock is left inside you and ramming himself forward. The pace punches moans from your chest and has your eyes roll back with every deliberate jab to that sweet spot. 

“Ed- fuck!” You cry out, his control of teasing you or keeping up with his own pleasure snaps along with his hips. Eddie holds your hips hard and rails into you harder. Thrusting with abandon and the coil inside of you winds tightly. Threatening to break at any given moment. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moan repeatedly, eyes blurring with lust. 

Eddie fists his hand in the back of your hair, yanking you up to his chest, “that’s right, let it all out, princess.” He wraps a hand around your middle, trailing his fingers down to circle around your clit. “I wanna hear how good I make you feel,” Eddie bites at your neck, sucking what has to be a constellation of marks on your skin, his thrusts not once faltering. “Come for me, pretty girl.” 

His words, his hands, his cock, him. Eddie flies you right over the edge of your orgasm. The coil snapping so hard you feel your pussy spasm around him and do something it’s never done before, even when you’ve played with yourself. You cry out, screaming a moaned, “Eddie,” as your cunt gushes around him. A tear falls from your eye, overwhelmed with sensation but Eddie holds you close, keeping you grounded with an orgasm infused smile on your face. 

He doesn’t gentle you through it, his fingers never ceasing their toying with your clit, “you’re gonna come for me again,” Eddie moans in your ear. You’re nearly overstimulated, but oh so addicted to the feeling of his dick inside of you that you couldn’t care less. You’d come as many times as he’d get you to. “Then I’m gonna come inside my pussy, understand?” 

“Please, please Eddie, fuck,” you moan, your cunt clenching around him with a vice grip. You want to meet his thrusts, but you’re too lost in the perfect pace he’s set that you hadn’t even noticed the all too familiar tingle creeping up on you. Thighs shaking, you hold his arm, the hand in your hair snaking around to a light hold on your throat. Another grunted moan in your ear from Eddie is all it took for you to fall apart again. A breathless scream as your pussy squirts around his cock once more. 

“That’s my girl,” Eddie’s grip tightens around your throat. His fingers finally leave your sensitive clit alone to hold you steady, thrusting a few more times until he shoves himself inside. Eddie lets out a moan, spilling himself deep inside, warming you from the inside out. “Fucking hell, I love you,” he pants, peppering your neck with sweet kisses. He carefully helps you back onto the table top, your hands propping you because your legs are far from stable. 

Your mind is blissfully quiet, only caring about being in the moment with Eddie. You’ll deal with the thought of doing this in the middle of the woods later. Right now, you just want him. Eddie pulls out from your sore pussy as gently as he can and gingerly pulls your pants back up. Kind of pointless considering they’re pretty much instantly soaked from his come leaking out of you. But that’s okay too, you like the feeling. You turn to face him, finding he’s already got his pants pulled up too. 

Reaching out to hug him, Eddie does you one better, scooping you up into his arms in a bridal carry. “You okay, princess?” He asks, kissing the top of your head when you tuck into his neck. 

“I’m okay. Some water would be great right now though,” you mumble, the pure scent of Eddie mixing with the woods around you is better than any aromatherapy out there. “And food. God, and a bath.” 

Eddie chuckles, bending to grab your bat from the ground, “good thing I have a cooler and some snacks in the van. Think that’ll be enough till we get home and I can make you something?” 

“‘S perfect, Eds,” you smile against his skin, curling your fingers in the ends of his hair as he carries you to his van. “Will my car be okay?” 

“I’ll have Gareth or Jeff come get it for you.” Eddie stops in his tracks, “uh,” he chuckles. “Do we need to stop at the pharmacy?” 

Lifting your tired head, you ask, ”why,” heavy lidded eyes barely focusing on him. 

“We didn’t use a condom,” he states, “and I definitely didn’t pull out.” 

You laugh, thumping your head back into his neck, “Eddie, my parents controlled every aspect of my life, you really think they wouldn’t put me on the pill?” You resume playing with his hair and he begins walking again. “I would’ve stopped you otherwise,” tugging his hair lightly you giggle, “it’s more than okay, Eddie. Just get me home so we can eat and take a bath together.”

“Coming right up, princess,” his smile is evident in his tone and he kisses your hair again. 

Part 2

[godsmitedeli]

this, this right here. this is a masterpiece

[godsmitedeli]

would anyone read an eddie munson x gn!reader fic based on the song Bad Habit by Steve Lacy if I wrote one?

[godsmitedeli]

i’m writing it i swear.

[lydiamarsin]

Eddie Munson was a more multi-dimensional, more interesting character than AT LEAST 1/3 of the main cast. He had personality, he had potential, he was different than anything we’ve seen on this show. He had so much room for growth and exploration. The Duffers killed him because they don’t have the balls to touch the main cast even though half of them have been underutilized for awhile anyways. They do it every season and we all called it basically the second Eddie was introduced. They turned him into another cliche, poorly executed trope for redemption HE NEVER FUCKING NEEDED. What a fucking waste of the one of the best characters ya’ll have had in your show.

[godsmitedeli]

took the words right out of my

mouth

[queers-gambit]

Tears in the Rain

other Eddie Munson Hanahaki Disease fics: Cherry Blossom Colored Kisses Gone with the Sin

prompt: feelings are confessed and a decision is made; the only thing left to do is heal and be okay.

pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

show: stranger things

note: Eddie's 19, reader's 18+, and Chrissy's 17-18 years old. and yes - The Book of Unholy Mischief was published in 2008, but i still use a quote from it, oh well - roll with it!

second note: we know the drill - i'll edit as time goes but i actually think it's pretty okay...

word count: 8.4k

warnings: Hanahaki Disease AU, cursing, unrequited love, y'all know the drill - angst! potential for part two! hospitals, and minor description of surgical procedure. again - angst! please proceed with maturity and caution. is this a happy ending? depends on your mental state idk anymore. ✅ no spoilers 🔪 please note there are a thousand ways to write Hanahaki Disease, and this is just one of my variations. yes, i did research, and yes, i tired my best.

🔞 none of the following content is appropriate for minors 🔞

It started in the 8th grade, spitting out bits of petals and scraping them off your tongue when nobody was looking; subtly wiping your hands on your jeans and pretending you hadn't. Your child's mind was overwhelmed and confused by the sight but figured it had to be normal, never asking any questions, because who would ever believe your symptoms?

You kept this secret to yourself like you did many others, never sharing with anyone the pain that was slowly creeping through your veins. You didn't even tell him - the boy who made your heart race and palms get sweaty. The boy who made your mind go blank and simultaneously race with thought. He's been your friend since the 1st grade, best friend since 3rd, you thought you could share anything, but after the talent show in 7th grade and you saw the way he was held hostage in his seat while watching Chrissy Cunningham do her cheer routine, you knew things couldn't stay the same.

His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape, and it was the first of many star-struck looks Eddie would give the strawberry blonde. A look you'll come to understand would never be directed at you.

Everything around you was changing but you refused to be left behind, so, you changed with the times; you changed with your friend. Your hair was cropped short as his grew out in unruly curls; you wore black almost everyday (like he did), you might've even learned how to play guitar so you two could have another bonding experience, and you even joined his stupid fucking Hellfire Club because you thought you could impress him with your Dungeons and Dragons knowledge that you didn't spend all summer studying over.

When you got to high school, your symptoms changed - just like you did. It wasn't fair, but you never tried to fix what was wrong; Nancy Wheeler spending hours with you in the library as you feigned a personal project you needed to research, searching for any solution. Your friend didn't know you found answers the summer before high school, the summer puberty hit you like a bullet train; the summer everything changed.

You knew something was terribly and fatally wrong yet never bothered to fix it, because why bother putting forth effort into an inevitable end? Your options were limited and neither sounded better than the last.

Option One: you succumb to your symptoms and suffocate. Two: you got a surgery to remove the blooms growing in your lungs - but it would in turn take away all known thought and memory of your beloved. And Option Three: confess your feelings and pray to any and every known God, Goddess, Deity that he would return them.

However, you worried that if he did return your affections - whether he verbalized them or not - you wouldn't be in this predicament to begin with. So, you sucked it up and kept quiet because having him as just a friend was better than forgetting him, or losing his friendship. You were never good being alone but found being alone with him was better than being by yourself. You chose to remain strong and silent, despite the way you withered away inside; you chose to stay close, even though his proximity made your heart crack. You chose to borderline torture yourself because you knew walking away would take more bravery than sticking around.

But in the words of Ellie Newmark, "Unrequited love does not die; it's only beaten down to a secret place where it hides, curled and wounded. For some unfortunates, it turns bitter and mean, and those who come after pay the price for the hurt done by the one who came before."

You positively refused to turn "bitter and mean", so, you plastered a smile on your face and never gave anyone reason to think anything could be wrong. You never thought there'd be anyone after him, because you were enamored with everything he did and the very idea of being in love with anyone except him drove your heart into your throat. The idea was unimaginable.

The first semester of high school, your chest got heavier with meat but also pressure, causing a terrible tightness that left you feeling as if you were breathing through a sauna; your lungs constricted with tendrils of prickling pain, and soon, those bits of petals were fully intact, giving you first sight to what was being hacked out of your body - white chrysanthemums.

After a bit of research, you discovered these particular flowers were used in European funeral bouquets - but not many others. You discovered white chrysanthemums were a symbol of death, grief, and mourning in some Asian cultures, and it did little to quell the worry in your chest.

Yet, how oddly beautiful to suffer through this; where your own body betrayed you but produce something pure, innocent even, despite being slathered with a halo of tacky blood.

However, you feared life without him and even if it meant your heart would permanently weep, you would sign yourself up for a lifetime of pain if it meant he stayed close. If it meant he stayed in your life. If his hand would continue to hold yours. If his smile would grace your sight, if those pillowy lips would form precious nicknames that always made you feel on top of the world.

You'd mourn yourself, in order to preserve and celebrate all he was.

For years, you persevered through the unimaginable pain in body and mind, and for years, you and he grew closer than ever before. In the 10th grade, things changed again - but this was only because you caught yourself about to confess your feelings for Edward Munson. Panic-inducing fear halted the words before they could slip out, and instead, it caused a violent coughing attack.

One so intense that it made you turn away from Eddie and get back in your father's car, driving away from his trailer as your palm was slathered in a slick, sticky mixture of blood and limp white petals.

You felt immense guilt when you glanced in the rearview mirror, Eddie's shocked, confused, and concerned figure standing on his porch - watching you drive away, and wondering what had gone wrong. You two had been smoking, sure, but Eddie often thought that you could smoke him under any table, any day. Maybe he had indulged you too much, and maybe your lungs and throat were going raw from it all - spurring a bud of guilt to sprout in Eddie's gut.

He didn't let you smoke going forward.

You accepted the new limitation because you couldn't handle telling him the truth. You chose to suffer for him, you chose to remain close and depend on him more than you should've. It became increasingly painful to live through your days, and to your heart-stopping fear, the pain was tenfold when you were nearest Eddie.

Eddie, who was oblivious to your pain.

Eddie, who couldn't pick up a fucking hint.

Eddie, who you've been in love with since you were a kid.

Eddie, who you spent every birthday and holiday with.

Eddie, who only ever wanted the pretty, popular head cheerleader... And not you.

Still, his friendship was better than nothing at all and you dealt with the staggering pain that soon left your limbs weak. Surely, the pain of losing him wouldn't match the pain you had now, so, you stuck it out.

You and Eddie hung out every weekend. You went to his shows at The Hideout, you helped him do his homework and study. You defended him against bullies, you'd wipe his tears, hold his hand through tattoos, you brought him new customers to up-charge his drug sales. You loved him, and you did what you could to show that without needing to verbalize it.

You laughed with him, cried, watched movies; went to concerts, checked out books in the library on how to fix automobiles to help him tune up his van. You remembered his Uncle Wayne's birthday and got him a new mug each year, you taught Eddie how to bake, you both would raid the music store and spend his drug money - and he'd always buy you a new record, even if it "wasn't real music".

Because that's what best friends did - they loved each other unconditionally.

And for years, you'd watch him stare after the pretty captain of the cheer team; her oblivious to his staring and him oblivious to yours. It was like a never-ending circle, watching the three of you idiots tiptoe around feelings and truth. Yet Eddie was focused on what was in front of him in the form of Chrissy, never bothering to ever check to see what was behind him - in the form of you.

Because you were always there. A constant presence tethered to his soul, forever being a safety net during the times he pushes himself too far.

The stake in your heart drove deeper when he'd ask your opinion on his hair - wondering if Chrissy would notice the trimmed dead ends (like you did). He'd ask you what flower was your favorite, because he wanted to impress the pretty strawberry blonde with a pretty bouquet. He asked you for a mixtape of your favorite love songs - learning a few of them on his guitar in the hopes of serenading the girl who you'd never be.

Thing was, Eddie was the only constant in your life and you felt it was impossible to walk away from him; some kind of chain keeping you from ever wondering too far. He was there from Day One, never leaving your side, and always knowing when something was wrong - until now.

When your symptoms graduated to coughing out blood daily, he didn't notice. When your chest was ready to cave in, making your breaths ragged and wheezy, he didn't notice. When your eyes became dull and lifeless due to the consistent pain that didn't let you rest through the night, he didn't notice.

What he did notice, was how Chrissy Cunningham was paying him slightly more attention since she and Jason Carver broke up. He noticed when her hair was different, he'd rave about how good she looked in the color green, gush to you in excitement when Mr. Lang had assigned them as project partners, and how Chrissy told him how funny she thought he was.

And the first day they decided to hang out together outside of educational purposes was the day you coughed out a full bloom. Floating on the surface of the water plugged in your bathroom sink was a white chrysanthemum, speckled in bright red blood; a string of red-stained saliva dripping from your mouth as you stared in shock. The face scrub popped lightly on your cheeks and fingertips, but your skincare routine was forgotten as you registered the newest symptom change.

This was new, this was much more painful. The usually beautiful flowers slowly grew in your lungs, sprouting thorns the longer you fought against your feels - refusing to admit defeat, and confess your deepest, longest kept secret.

For the following days, you were excusing yourself every single class period to retch into a toilet bowl, the blooms now sopping wet from your blood due to the shredded rawness of your throat and lungs.

Eddie didn't notice because Chrissy's perfume was still in his nostrils. Her swaying ponytail still behind his eyes. Her beaming smile painted in his mind, and fingers tingling from the ghostly memory of her hand in his.

Thorns sliced your throat, stabbed your tongue, and shredded the inside of your cheeks when you tried to spit them out as quick as possible. It was like your blood was made of glue, keeping the blooms and thorns stuck to your mouth and lips - no matter how your river of tears tried to wash them away. Or how your sobbing breath tried to force them out into the toilet - they just wouldn't budge.

Petals and flowers and thorns stuck to you, like your love for Eddie.

And Eddie didn't notice because Chrissy was wearing that skirt today, and he was telling you all about how beautiful she was instead of focusing on spending quality time with you; instead of noticing how you visibly shrunk into yourself in an effort to quell the pain throbbing in your chest and head, in an effort to block out the pain of hearing the boy you love gush about the girl he loves.

Breathing became harder, as if something were blocking your lungs. Blocking the passageway air needed to travel; blocking you out of your life. It took a physical toll; color of your eyes dulling, hair drying of any moisture, bones protruding from the harsh symptoms that refused to ease in severity. You felt fear for the first time since the 8th grade and this had all first started; trying to weigh your options over what to do.

Three options...

Eddie didn't notice your turmoil to make a decision because Chrissy agreed to a date with him.

Before you know it - years have passed since your first indication of symptoms. You prayed for deliverance, but God couldn't hear you through your gargled cries; coughing petals and blooms out between blobs of thick clots. Your pillow cases were all soiled, yet you couldn't replace them - it was futile with the way blood shot from your mouth and nose. You ran through tissues more than tampons, and your bedroom became something akin to a hospice room.

Eddie didn't notice when you dulled of life.

Being as you were now seniors, you figured showing up at Eddie's trailer in the middle of the night wasn't totally weird. After all, you both had sought refuge with the other since before you really understood what friendship meant. With worry and fear dropping your heart to your feet from the weight of your panic, you hopped in your beat up Toyota and drove through town to reach Eddie's home; used tissues scattered across the passenger seat - all saturated with blooming drops of blood.

You had no idea how to explain what was happening, but you needed to tell him. You needed help, and if there was a chance all of this could be over if you just told him the truth, you were willing to let down your walls. Eddie had always told you he'd do anything to help you, and you just banged your hands on the steering wheel as you tried to rid the idea from your mind that that, too, had changed.

When you got to Eddie's front door, the lights were on and you prayed he'd answer despite the late hour. You knocked, waited; knocked again, waited some more. After 4 minutes, you were pounding at his front door until it was shoved open - forcing you back a step - and to your horror, there stood Chrissy Cunningham... In Eddie's favorite Metallica shirt.

And only his shirt.

"Oh, hey," Chrissy smiles awkwardly, shifting her weight over her feet. Her shining strawberry blonde hair is strung off her neck in a messy bun that makes her look fucking ethereal. "Um, Eddie's in the shower... Do you want me to go get him for you?"

But the small blemish poking out from the collar of the shirt she wore made you shake your head through tears; trying to offer a small smile. "No, oh, my God, I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean to interrupt. Shit, my bad, Chrissy," you backed away down the stairs, needing to use the railing to save yourself from falling over.

"You weren't," she assured. "We were, um... Done. H-He's in the shower, why don't you come in?" Her brows pulled together as if a string was threaded between them, offering sweetly, "I was gonna make some tea, do you want some? We could, um, hang out? Until he's out of the shower, i-if you want?"

FUCK! You knew Eddie didn't have fucking tea, so, the sweetheart must've brought it with her and now, she's offering to make you some? God damn it. Why'd she have to be so nice!?

"Oh, yeah, um, no, no thanks, Chrissy, that's really nice of you, but it's really nothing. I should just get going, I'll talk to him later, um... H-Have a nice weekend, and I'm sorry, again."

"Are you sure? You look kinda upset - I don't think you should drive right now."

Eddie didn't notice - but one look from Chrissy Cunningham and she had. If your heart wasn't broken before, it was now.

You nodded despite the pain swelling in your chest, "Yeah, no, no I'm fine - I should've just called. It's not a big deal, I'm sorry again, um, good night, Chrissy, um, yeah - just, yeah, have a nice night."

She nodded, "You, too. I hope you feel better, I'll tell Eddie you stopped by."

You trusted that she would, returning home and with petals still sticking to your tongue, charged into your mother's room. She sat up in her bed in shock - late night shifts taking their toll and leaving her sleep deprived. This was her first weekend off in months, and you felt terrible for interrupting her, but you couldn't hold it in anymore.

You needed your mother. You needed her more than ever before because your fear was tangible, and you weren't ready to die.

See, thing is, your mother was borderline your best friend (besides Eddie, that is). She and your father had been high school sweethearts, married, and he died in a tragic car accident on the night your mother was going to tell him she was pregnant on their first wedding anniversary. She never dated, she never brought a man home, she only focused on you. When you got older, she figured she could work more and you were happy to support her; taking up more house chores to save her from any unnecessary stress.

It was just you and your mother... Until Eddie, then, he was a constant presences at your dinner table. He had his own Christmas stocking your mother knitted. His favorite snacks kept in a stocked up supply for whenever he chooses to visit. And you and your mother would spend an entire day baking a cake for his birthday before hosting a full meal for him and his Uncle Wayne.

Your mother never had an issue with doing any of that because she was grateful for Eddie being in your life. It made her feel as if you'd never be alone.

However, you now felt like a burden, but the moment your mother clocked your tears and trembling hands clutching bloody tissues, she was beckoning you to her chest and begging you to tell her what was wrong as she rocked you soothingly.

So, you confessed. Everything.

From that night in 7th grade when you saw Eddie mesmerized by Chrissy Cunningham for the first time. That being the night you coughed out petals... And how everything changed and got worse from there on, and you didn't understand what was wrong, why you were suffering.

You told her about how you were now coughing out the full thorny blooms, how the bleeding wouldn't stop; how the pain was festering, spreading, and suffocating your heart, mind, and soul.

You told her about tonight... What you saw... How nice the cheerleader had been, how you couldn't find it in your heart to hate her, and how you didn't know what to do anymore.

You told her how Eddie didn't notice anymore - he couldn't see you - because he could only see Chrissy, and it was slowly killing you.

It took all night to explain, and your mother sat you at the kitchen table. She made you hot tea and plated a few cookies - talking well through the night and into the morning. She wanted to understand everything and as the sun breached the horizon, she was encouraging you to tell Eddie how you felt after reading the same book you had that explained the disease you suffered from.

You told her she was crazy, but she begged you to at least try. She validated that you had the right idea in going to his trailer; she thought that you and Eddie had always been cute, that you'd make a great couple; and though your sense of style had changed again (after it didn't get Eddie's attention, like you'd hoped), she still thought you two complimented each other well. "You balance each other, my dove," she whispered. "Tell him. Please, for your own sake."

So, you bucked up the courage to tell him on Monday. You'd see him at school and couldn't back down, leaving it neutral grounds for you both to be honest and open in. Or, so you hoped.

That morning, you caught Eddie before he could enter the school and asked to talk to him. "Shit, I meant to call you, doll," he breathed, looking at you with concern. "Chrissy said you were upset and showed up at my door - are you okay? What was wrong? I'm sorry I wasn't there."

So, when Chrissy points it out, he pays attention. Instead, you just answered, "It's okay, I'm okay. Um, c-can we go talk? Privately?"

"Of course, yeah, c'mon," he agreed, leading you to the lesser-populated hallway to slip into the old drama classroom that now posed as the Hellfire Club room. Eddie sat on his throne but leaned forward on his knees to hold your hands as you took time to think over in your mind what you wanted to say.

"Eddie," you whispered. "I-I just really need to tell you something, and you have to promise not to hate me after."

He nodded, "I could never hate you, pretty girl, and you know you can tell me anything."

"Right," you sniffled. "Well, um, listen, I just want you to know that I-I value this friendship more than anything, and never want to jeopardize it..."

"Okay, now you're scaring me," Eddie chuckled. His hands squeezed yours, encouraging, "C'mon, sweetheart, what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

You nodded, blurting, "I'm in love with you."

Only the silence stretched between you two like an oversized bubble of Hubba Bubba - popping as your words registered in his mind. His eyes just shot between both of yours, mouth opening to form a word before sighing and shaking his head. Panic and fear gripped your heart, lungs, and mind in a tighter vice than the white chrysanthemums' roots.

"You can't be," he finally whispered brokenly.

A record scratched in your head, "What?"

"You can't be in love with me," his head shook as he repeated his statement. "No, no, you - you can't be."

"Why can't I be? Is it that hard to imagine?"

"Because you're my best friend - you're supposed to be my best friend!" He looked spooked, startled, unsure, and like he was going to have an anxiety attack. "You can't be in love with me, you're just - no!"

"Well, I didn't exactly plan it."

"Just - stop!"

"Stop what?"

"Stop loving me!"

"You don't think I've tried!?"

"Try harder!"

"For fuck's sake, Eddie! You don't think this is hard enough?"

"Well, it'd be easier if you had some kind of restraint!" He snipped, wiping a hand down his mouth. "Shit, I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do about this?"

"I-I don't know!"

"Well, why tell me?"

You gulped, fearing telling him the truth now. Instead, you just whispered, "I-I take it you don't feel the same?"

"Shit, sweetheart," he sniffled, shaking his head, "y-you know I love you but... But no, I-I'm not in love with you."

You nod slowly, blinking even slower, "No?"

"I'm so sorry - fuck, God damn it."

"It's not your fault," you promised. "I-I didn't mean for this to happen, okay? I swear, I didn't want to do this, I never wanted things to change between us."

He nodded sadly, "I get that, I do, but I think I need time to think."

"Wait, what? Think about what, Eddie? L-Like - you need to think about us? You need time to think about us?" You squeaked, panic swelling. You started to cough lightly, that sticky feeling clogging your throat again.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Because I'm with Chrissy and I don't think she would like... This."

Now you understood... "So, because you're dating Chrissy, you can't be friends with me? We've been friends forever, Eddie, why does this have to change things?"

"Because you're in love with me! I didn't want you to be, you were supposed to be my friend. Just my friend!"

"I'm sorry it happened, but why does this mean we can't still be friends? I've dealt with it this long, I can go longer - "

"Because I'm in love with Chrissy, and can't do this to her! For fuck's sake, why'd you have to do this, huh? Why'd you have to fall in love with me right when I got a girlfriend - "

"It didn't just happen, Eddie, I've been in-love with you since middle school! But notice how we stayed friends! Please - please, we can stay friends, this doesn't have to change anything."

He shook his head, standing abruptly, "It changes everything. I gotta go - I just can't be here, I'm sorry."

"Eddie! Please! Wait, just wait, please, let me explain!" You begged, watching him flee the room; the door slamming in an echo around you and forcing the tears teetering in your waterline to fall pathetically. You felt your heart nailing you to the floor, tears falling numbly down your cheeks; hands shaking and coughing getting worse. Your hands finally found feeling again and rose, covering your mouth and nose to catch the splatter.

You hacked as your lungs shriveled to expel whatever clogged them, falling to your knees and needed to use two fingers to reach in the back of your throat to pull a full floral bloom out; blood dripping off of it and from your mouth to soak into the old, dingy carpet. The thorns pierced your finger pads when you rolled the short stem between them, the flower falling into the puddle of blood you'd spat out.

Stumbling to your feet, you kept a tissue in hand and covering your mouth; the material slowly saturating as you punched your mother's number in the outside payphone.

"Mom?" You begged into the receiver, wheezing and sobbing through the pain. Everything had changed, again. "I-I need you to take me to the hospital. Please, Mommy, i-it's hurts. 'S blood everywhere, an-and the pain - Mommy, please, it hurts so bad."

Your mother was pulling up in a skidding halt within 6 minutes. Her rubber tires burned over the pavement, slight smoke wafting into the air to indicate not just her speed, but her harsh stop when she saw your body bolting towards her.

From the side of the school, moments before the first bell rang, Robin Buckley and Nancy Wheeler watched you fully sprint for the car and how fast your mother pulled off, sharing an uneasy look before darting for the same payphone and calling Steve Harrington.

But they couldn't find you all over town, opting to wait at your house instead. They only waited for about an hour before your mother's car was pulling into the driveway.

"You gonna tell them?" Your mom muttered, smiling and waving at the three teenagers.

"Yeah," you whispered. "Doctors said keeping it a secret doesn't make it easier, right?"

She nodded, "For whatever it's worth, my dove, I think you're making the right decision. This took a lot of bravery, but you're going to get better, and you're going to feel better, too."

"I know," you whispered with a watery smile. "Just gonna suck until Thursday."

"I'll call the school, you're gonna be out for recovery for at least 2 weeks."

"Don't forget my post-op appointment," you nodded.

"Right," she agreed, opening her door and triggering you to follow suit. "Hey, kids," she beamed at your worried friends.

They greeted her politely (but enthusiastically) before she was excusing herself and heading for the house. It left you to stand before the three people, who, up until a few years ago, you wouldn't have imagined being real friends with.

Technically, you and Nancy Wheeler had been friends since before Eddie; Robin and Steve coming into your life through inter-dimensional circumstances before choosing to stick around.

"Are you okay?" Nancy asked first, looking the most worried. "We saw you running from school and thought something was wrong."

"So, you blew off school to stalk my house?" you teased lightly, trying to alleviate the pain settling on your heart after leaving the hospital.

"Exactly," Robin crossed her arms. "You ran like something was chasing you - we knew something was wrong. What is it? A-Are you okay? I mean, you looked pretty spooked, we were afraid something else came back - you know - "

"Okay, Robin, yeah," you chuckled lightly, interrupting her rapid words. "Um, I appreciate the concern, but it could've waited."

"Not when you've been acting funny for months now," Nancy shook her head. "Don't think we haven't noticed; you're skinnier, you look like you haven't slept in weeks, you carry tissues around like you're paid for it... What's up with you?"

"And I've clocked the constant nose bleeds," Steve nodded, arms folding against his chest. "Look, if something's going on, you're going to need friends through it, and we're willing to take on the job."

Your heart swelled slightly and you nodded, blinking quickly to keep the tears down. "Um, yeah... Yeah," you sniffled, looking up at them as the emotion couldn't be kept out of your voice, "something's going on, and um... I-I think I would like to tell you guys about it. Do you mind waiting in the backyard? I've gotta grab a book from inside, trust me, it can explain some things better than I can."

Nancy looked nervous as her fingers twisted together; Robin nodding before nudging her along. Steve shifted on his feet and dropped his arms, clearing his throat, "You sure?"

"Yeah," you nodded with a whisper. "Just hang tight."

He nodded with crinkled brows of concern, heading off behind the two girls as you bolted for the front door. Your mother was heard in her room, on the phone, and you dropped your school bag on your bed, snatched up the library book you checked out every year, and made for your backyard.

As kids, you and Nancy loved hanging out here because it was spacious, and your mother had a beautiful garden with patio furniture nestled amongst the greenery. At the white-washed table, Steve, Nancy, and Robin waited together, muttering quietly, and left you to take your seat.

Sighing, you opened the book and slid it forward; Nancy's hands darting to pick it up and read swiftly as you began your tale. After voicing everything to your mother, you had a better idea of how to word it all; starting with when you realized you had a crush on Eddie in the 5th grade, how it festered in middle school, and when you realized you'd only be friends - so, you kept it that way.

You told them about the tiny bits of torn up petals, then how they became intact. Next, you explained how things got worse for you; blooms being coughed out with blood, how Eddie crushed majorly on Chrissy, and then to how everything hit rock bottom.

You explained the petals changed into full blooms, sprouting thorns as you stuffed your feelings deeper inside your cracked heart. You explained the constant pain, the confusion, the sleeplessness, showed them the cuts on your lips and in your mouth; even picking a leftover petal from the inside of your cheek to prove your point.

Steve's hand deftly reached out to examine it.

You explained the mental anguish of loving someone who couldn't love you back; the anguish of being so close - yet so far; and the anguish of knowing you were being killed from the inside, out because you couldn't let go of your overwhelming feelings for Eddie 'the Freak' Munson.

Then... You told them about Chrissy and Eddie at his trailer when you went to tell him the truth. How you confided in your mother for the first time in years. How you were encouraged to tell Eddie - and how it royally backfired, which lead you to today.

To your decision.

To your appointment at the hospital that your mother bullied administration into giving you last minute.

To meeting the cardiothoracic surgeon that diagnosed you with, as the library book highlighted, Hanahaki Disease.

Steve had tears in his eyes; elbows bent on the tabletop to keep his folded hands in front of his mouth, like he was physically suppressing his emotion with the petal laid to the table. Robin stared at you the whole time, never once making you feel as if you were talking to thin air; brows crinkled and perked at appropriate moments, never interrupting.

Nancy had read the entire passage before slamming the book down and letting her tears fall. She listened intently as you explained to the three that you had to choose one of three options, and immediately after that, you told them you had come to a decision.

You'd made the appointment and you were to under the knife that Thursday before returning in two weeks for a post-op check-up that would ensure all of the blooms were cleared from your lungs. And after today, you had discovered the plants were creeping up your esophagus and if you waited, soon, it would kill you.

"Well, why're you upset?" Robin asked gently, reaching for your hand. "This is good, right? Y-You'll be cured!"

You nodded in agreement, but it was Nancy voicing, "She'll forget Eddie completely."

"What?" Steve asked, looking between you and Nancy urgently. "Are you serious?"

"It's the only contingency in exchange for my life," you nodded.

"You've been friends forever," he shook his head, leaning back. "No, I just - I can't believe him. He doesn't love you back? That's just bullshit - c'mon!"

"Steve - "

"No, seriously!" he cut Robin off, her hand tightening in mine. "We've all seen how he looks at you, how he behaves! It doesn't make sense, it's not possible. He's just scared," his head shook still, looking angry with pinched brows. "He's scared and he's not thinking."

"No, Stevie," you whispered, "he understands, and trust me, he doesn't feel the same. It's okay."

"You'll forget your best friend," Steve shook his head. "That's not okay."

"It's a small price to pay, right?"

Nancy nodded, "If it means you're out of pain, and you won't die, yeah, I'd say it's a reasonable price to pay."

You agreed, "It's gonna be okay, but I'll be in recovery until the surgeon okay's me to return to school and normal activity."

"Will you remember why you need the surgery?" Robin wondered.

"Apparently not," you shrugged.

For the next few days, you remained at home and prepared for your operation. Your mother worked extra shifts because she was taking Thursday through TBD in order to take care of you, and your friends visited you everyday.

Nobody spoke of Eddie, who had asked Robin that Wednesday where you were - only to receive a fierce glare and slammed locker in his face. Chrissy's brows furrowed at the aggression, worrying something was wrong with you if your friends were shunning Eddie. She reminded him of how upset you'd been when you showed up at his trailer, his mind flashing to when he found a bloodied white chrysanthemum in the Hellfire room after he left you when you confessed your feelings for him.

He knew that was why you showed up at his trailer that night, and his heart constricted as he grew cold in your absence. He had to admit, if you've had these feelings since middle school, you never let it interfere with your friendship and he was a fool for blowing up at you.

Could it really be that hard to love you? Was the idea that far fetched?

The day of your surgery, your mother and you pushed out of your front door at 4 am to make it to the hospital for pre-op; blood work; all the standard procedures that needed done before you were sliced open and roots carved out of your lungs. And to your honest shock? Steve Harrington was waiting on the street, leaning on his car, dressed in a pair of jeans and an old hoodie.

"What're you doing here?" You wondered, oblivious to your mother's knowing smirk.

Steve shrugged lightly, "Figured you'd want a familiar face around, and Nance and Robin have tests in school today - otherwise, they'd be here, too."

"'Too'?" You repeated with a soft smile.

"Yeah, well, I-I'd still be here," he nodded. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah," you breathed, nodding with a soft smile. "I think I'd really appreciate the, um..."

"Support? Comfort? Seeing my pretty face when you wake up from anesthesia?" He grinned.

"All of the above, Harrington, c'mon," you chuckled, waving him with you. In your mother's car, she kept conversation light as a distraction when your nerves flared the closer you drove to the hospital; the boy in the back doing his best to chime in charmingly. Steve was allowed to stay with you once in the pre-op procedure room (again, your mother bullied hospital admin into letting him stay), and cracked a few really poor jokes while needles were poked into your skin.

Medicine was administered, your hair stuffed into a surgical cap, vitals taken for a final time - and then it was time to go.

When you were wheeled away, Steve squeezed your hand and your mother kissed your forehead; both wishing you luck, reminding you of your brave decision, and sent you down the sterile hallway. While staring up at the blinding, florescent lights of the operating room, a gas mask was placed over your mouth and the anesthesiologist instructing you to count backward from ten... And your heart begged you to change your mind.

Begged you not to erase Eddie. Begged you to jump off that table.

But your mind told only your tongue to move, and you counted, "Ten."

Eddie's soft hair through your fingers, "Nine."

Eddie's stupid grin when he's showing you a new guitar riff he'd mastered, "Eight."

Eddie's laugh, "Seven."

The warmth of Eddie's hugs, "Six."

His hands holding your cheeks, thumbs sweeping to clear your tears as he would coo to you, trying to calm you down, "...Five..."

"She's out," the doctors nodded to one another; scalpels clinking over the sterile table, machines beeping to indicate vital readings, and rubber gloves snapped into place as your hospital gown was peeled away, and disinfecting betadine squirted over your skin.

Across town, in the hallways of Hawkins High, Eddie was pacing by your locker. He looked disheveled, not himself; confused and scared, by what Robin could judge.

"What're you doing here?" she shot venomously, using her hand to push his chest and force him back a step from your locker.

"Where is she?" he begged. "Please, Robin, I know she's hurt - I know I hurt her, but I have to talk to her an-and she hasn't been at school all week. Please - I have to talk to her."

She used your combination to open your locker and set the packet of missed work inside for her to pick up at the end of the day, sneering, "It's too late."

"No, it's not - "

"No, seriously, Eddie," she snapped, the locker slamming in an echo. "It's too late for you. She's let you go, time for you to do the same."

For two weeks, Eddie repeated the last words he'd said to you, how broken you looked when he said he didn't love you. The words you said to him, then how you weren't seen again, to that bloody flower he found, and how Robin, Nancy, and Steve were all giving him the cold shoulder. He thought over what went wrong and every single way he was going to make it up to you, because while he might be in love with Chrissy Cunningham, there was never replacing you - and he needed you.

Eddie needed you.

And his heart sunk to his stomach as he realized how bitter he's turned; shunning Chrissy, becoming testy, canceling Hellfire, and missing you to the point he was tugging his hair out of his scalp and chain smoking cigarettes.

Loving you was easy and maybe he's loved you longer than he's known - longer than he ever wanted to admit. But missing you was hard, and Eddie wasn't accustomed to it.

It was supposed to be easy between you two, but when you confessed your feelings, Eddie felt everything become messy and change. Eddie Munson wasn't very good with change. He missed your laugh, he missed your comfort, a few times he'd even looked up to his bed when he mastered a new guitar riff - and feeling his heart sink in disappointment when he only saw Chrissy.

Granted, she was smiling at him, but it wasn't your smile. Tears filled his eyes when he realized he spent every Friday with Chrissy, finding new ways to impress the cheerleader, and feeling crushed when he remembered he never needed to impress you. You were always proud of him, you always encouraged him, and with a single look, you could say more than ever opening your mouth.

Eddie needed you, and he had ruined any chance of loving you properly. But Edward Munson was stubborn and not willing to give up, not until you were beating him off with a stick. The two of you had been friends forever and he knew you had some fights, but one way or another, someone was always apologizing and together, you could move past the issue. So, until you were telling him to fuck off, he was going to try - because you had never given up on him.

Two weeks of nothing. Two weeks of your home's voicemail. Two weeks of nobody answering the front door. Two weeks of confusion, heartache, and stress. Two weeks of smoking packs of cigarettes, of snapping at Chrissy, of praying to a God he's never prayed to before.

When he saw you that Friday, Eddie's heart leapt into his throat and he gave a strangled gasp before sprinting across the carpark to make it to your side. You were surrounded by Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley, all three piling out of Steve Harrington's car - who now leaned on his driver's door, mid-conversation - and he thought you looked more beautiful than ever.

The weight you've lost had slowly built back up now that you weren't constantly vomiting. Your head had cleared, your heart feeling lighter than ever before, your veins racing with helium, and the bags under your eyes had cleared. In fact, your eyes looked clearer than they ever had, and your skin was practically glowing.

God did you look good.

Eddie panted your name, coming to a skidding halt as Steve pushed off his car and looked at you with worry.

Why would Harrington need to worry about you?

"Oh, uh, hi there?" you nodded at him, tugging your binder closer to your chest and sending a cautious look to Robin.

But Eddie's heart was in his throat, "I-I need to talk to you, please."

To his horror, you shook your head, "Um, I don't think we actually have anything to talk about."

"What? No, we have so much to discuss, please, I know I was a jackass and you don't deserve that - "

"Wait, hang on, I-I'm sorry. You don't understand, we don't have anything to talk about," you chuckled weakly, "because I don't know you."

Ice shot into Eddie's veins, stuttering, "W-What? Th-That's not funny, doll, don't joke like that."

You looked at Nancy for support, whispering in a small, panicked voice, "I don't know him, do I, Nance? I don't think I know him."

"No, honey," Nancy assured, smiling softly at you before glaring at Eddie. "He's just a classmate."

Eddie knew Nancy was protective of you but what the hell was going on? What kind of a sick prank was this? Look, Eddie knew he's pulled some mean jokes in his life but this? This wasn't mean, it was cruel, and he didn't find it funny in the least bit.

"What? No - what the hell are you guys talking about?" Eddie begged, looking between the four teenagers. "Sweetheart, it's me - it's Eddie. It's your Eddie, please, what do you mean you don't know me - what's going on? This isn't funny, sweetheart, please, okay? Look, we've known each other a decade, right, how can you - how can you not know me?"

"I'm really sorry, um... Eddie? Was it Eddie?"

His heart shattered, shards stinging as they were pumped through the rest of his body. "Sweetheart, no, please, I just... I'm so sorry, but this isn't funny - "

"Look, I'm really sorry, but this isn't a joke, I really don't know you," your head shook. "And I would remember someone I've known a decade - right?" You asked Nancy again, looking nervous. "I-I don't know him, but he knows me. Nancy, I-I don't understand, I don't know what's wrong. Is something wrong with me?"

"No, honey," she rushed to speak, sending Steve a pointed look when stress made your eyes shine. "You're okay, you're okay, it's okay."

"Okay, hey, hey, hey, okay," Steve stepped in, pushing Eddie back a few steps. "You need to back off, you're upsetting her."

"I'm upsetting her?" he repeated, tears collecting as his feet tried to plant against Steve's force. "She doesn't remember me - "

"Back off, dude," Steve warned.

"I'm really sorry," you called to him, genuine look of distorted pain over your face. "I'm sorry," you repeated to Robin and Nancy, "I-I don't know him, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I-I don't know what's wrong, I'm sorry - "

"Hey, hey, breathe, okay? It's all fine, it's all good, you're okay, I promise, just try to focus on breathing," Robin assured, hand rubbing circles over your back.

"No! Baby! You do know me!" Eddie begged over Steve's shoulder as Nancy turned you away. "Please! No! You know me, baby! Don't do this, please, please, I need you! Sweetheart - please! I need you, and I'm so sorry for what I said! Don't do this! No, please, I-I'm sorry!"

His heart glued itself back together just to shatter once again when Robin took your books to let your hands slap over your ears to block him out as Nancy directed you away - Steve still pushing Eddie back.

"Dude!" Steve snapped with anger coloring his iris' a darker shade, "You're fucking upsetting her!"

"Steve, please - "

"No," Steve shook his head. "You had your chance, and it's too late. Okay? Leave her alone, she doesn't remember and doesn't need you trying to 'remind' her when it's already done, dude. Okay? It's done."

"What the hell does that mean? Please, Steve, I need her - she's my best friend and I can fix this," Eddie begged.

Steve felt fleeting compassion for the other boy, seeing the distress and heartbreak over his face. Steve sighed, glancing back to see you being spoken to softly by Nancy and Robin, assuring you it was okay not to remember the boy with long hair, before turning to look into the eyes that had broken your heart on too many occasions.

"She doesn't remember because you were removed from her memory, Ed, you were just... All of you was removed from her, okay?" Steve sighed finally. "Look, it's hard to explain, but do yourself and her a favor?"

"Anything."

"Go to the library and look this up," he pulled a torn piece of paper from his pocket, handing it over. "It'll explain what was wrong, and you should hopefully be able to piece together why she can't remember you. Don't make this harder, all right? She's finally okay, and you were so sure you didn't want her that it's time for you to be okay without her, too. Don't do this to her, man, you get me?"

"What did I do?" Eddie whispered.

Steve gulped, shaking his head, "You couldn't love her back."

Eddie stood there, piece of paper clutched in his fingertips like the petal of a flower, as Steve turned and headed for you three girls. He lifted his arm to bring you in for a side hug, assuring you that it was okay not to remember - while Eddie stood there, like you had so many times, watching with tears and heartbreak in his eyes.

He didn't go to classes, he obsessively searched books for the Hanahaki Disease Steve told him about; finding his answers, and never finding peace. He had to live everyday watching you really bloom into your own person; becoming more radiant by the passing second, realizing he was draining you of your life before, and how there wouldn't ever be room for him with you now.

When you graduated with an acceptance to your first choice college, you returned home in your cap and gown with a giggling Robin and Nancy; planning on changing and getting ready to hit a few grad parties already. The girls were so excited that you were feeling (and looking) better now that they didn't want to waste anymore time and insisted you all hit a few parties. However, before you could hop up the stairs to your room, a large bouquet of flowers caught your attention.

Sat on your kitchen counter was a thick bouquet of white chrysanthemums. There was no note, no signature, but something in your gut twisted with knowledge. Your fingers reached out to gently stroke the petals before smiling lightly, leaning in to sniff them, and then turn for the stairs to rush up to your bedroom.

All the while across town, a long haired metalhead in a matching green cap and gown, tipped a bottle of Irish whiskey to his lips; a single stemmed white chrysanthemum rolled between his fingers; old polaroid photos scattered around his body on the floor, tears sliding down his cheeks, and regret echoing across his mind.

•

[godsmitedeli]

im sobbing uncontrollably rn 😭😭

i need a part 2 asap!!!

[ddejavvu]

can you please do fake dating with eddie munson? fluff or smut i don’t care :)

"Eddie, I don't think-" He cuts you off with a firm kiss to your lips, "-we need to-" another, even more forceful this time, "-kiss when nobody's-" this time he's pressing his lips so tightly to yours that his nose prods at your skin, "-watching!"

"Shut up," He grumbles, keeping you firmly caged against the wall behind you, "This is practice. Y'know, how actors gotta be all couple-y off screen so that it looks real on screen?"

"I don't think that's right." You frown confusedly at Eddie, trying to remember if you'd ever heard something like that. You've heard of costars dating each other on set, but usually for PR stunts, not to practice their roles.

"Method acting, babe." He keeps his hand curled around your jaw while he looks down at you with hooded eyes, a slight smirk on his lips as his rings dig coolly into your skin, "It's called method acting."

[bxnnywriting-deactivated2023041]

Vibration

Summary: Feeling the vibrations of The bass coming from the amp while Eddie plays his guitar, an idea pops into your head to help the throbbing between your thighs

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A/n: I apologise if it sucks. I never knew how difficult it would be to write about riding a guitar amp, Getting off from the bass would be also I know nothing about guitars lmao 🧍‍♀️

Warnings: smut, I really don’t know honestly

𝘗𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦,𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 (𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺)

𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺, 𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘕𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴.

Anon request

Eddie Munson Masterlist

“Eddie”, I whispered

Eddie grunted back in reply, fiddling with the tuning of his guitar.

“Cmon, you’ve been at for an hour. Come play with me instead”, I begged

“Ah hah!” He yelled out, playing the guitar in excitement as he finally got the tuning right

I squeeze my thighs tighter as I watch Eddie; I can’t help but get wetter at seeing his fingers on the strings wishing he was using them on me like that.

I pout, and I make my way back to his room to suffer; that’s when I walk past his amp, feeling the vibration under my feet.

I look down at his amp, biting down on my lip; that’s when a thought pops into my head.

I pull down my panties, feeling the cold air hit my clit

I stand on top of the amp, my legs pressing each side, feeling the vibrations of the bass go up my legs, making them go all tingly

I slowly sat down; my pussy quivered from the intense bass. It was like a surge of electricity.

My body slumped forward, so my hands were on the floor.

My legs caged the amp covering the speaker, probably making the sound of the guitar muffled.

Tears filled my eyes as I began to ride the Leather top of the rattling amp; it was something out of the world.

The intense vibration caused my whole body to tremble, even in my mouth. I swear my teeth were clattering

“Fuck”, I squeaked, so close to cumming when suddenly there was no more bass.

I whined, looking up at Eddie, who stood there, jaw slacked, clenching the neck of his guitar.

“Wha, what are you doing?!?” Eddie stammered out, his cheeks becoming flush

I bit my lip. “You wouldn’t play with me; I need to fulfil my needs somehow.”

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. His pants feel tighter. In his entire life, he'd never felt desire like this.

A devilish smirk spread across my face

“ So, Are you going to play with me now, Eddie?”

——————-

Eddie Munson Taglist <3

@maddyscherryrollingpapers @campnightwingkill3r @babeyglo @dragon-ash13 @officialfangirls-blog @kenzi-woycehoski @lovelypeonie @venicb1tch88 @smol-book-nerd @ali-r3n @eddiesguitarbuckysarm @rafecameronswhore @rachelb278 @graciefostrr @ccosmic-illusion @efvyqrs @nia-um @mommy-maia @maleonor21 @wishilovedyouinthe80s

[queers-gambit]

Cherry Blossom Colored Kisses

prompt: when Eddie confesses he wants to ask Chrissy Cunningham to prom, you start coughing out flower petals.

pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

show: stranger things

besties, be proud of me! i wrote this in second person!! so this is a "you did X Y Z" narration, instead of "I did X Y Z" narration. is it stupid to be proud? probably a little - but i'm feeling good about this. maybe i'll even graduate to using "y/n" next.

word count: 8.6k [got a bit carried away]

warnings: Hanahaki Disease ([Japanese folklore] fictional disease where the victim coughs up flower petals when suffering from one-sided love), cursing, angst, seemingly unrequited love, but things work out! ✅ no spoilers 🔪 please note there are a thousand ways to write Hanahaki Disease, and this is just my variation. yes, i did research, and yes, i tired my best.

Like every other Friday night, you hitched a ride back to his trailer with Eddie as you had nowhere else to be. Well, probably wasn't true, you were a social butterfly with plenty of prospective friends to hang out with, but your favorite place was always with Eddie.

He was home, he was safety, he was warmth, he was what you needed after either a really bad, or even a really good day.

Eddie had this superpower where he could either turn your bad mood around or he could increase your happiness tenfold. He was next to never upset or angry or frustrated, he was content to vibe in a constant state of "chill".

Your feelings for him might've started around your sophomore year, when he decked Jason Carver in the jaw for making you uncomfortable. Even to this day - it was one of the only times you've seen him angry, and the fact that it was because Jason was flirting with you made your heart lift. It spurred the hate between the two boys, but only solidified your everlasting friendship with Eddie. Yet, you buried these feelings out of fear of rejection, and change - you didn't want things to change.

You liked things where they were.

But it was getting harder to pretend you didn't like your best friend. As if everything he did didn't make you feel silly, stupid, and giddy all at once.

As if those wide, brown, doe eyes didn't make you melt, yet simultaneously make you feel stronger than before. A single look from him could give you enough confidence for a week.

As if his antics, pet names, hand holds, late night cuddle sessions when you were feeling lonely didn't put your stomach in knots but send you heart up to the sky, like if was filled with helium.

However, you were content because you never wanted to lose him. So, you'd suffer through whatever this was if it meant he stayed close. Despite the heaviness in your chest, you continued to pretend nothing was wrong because if Eddie pick up on it, he would surely hound you until you confessed - something you couldn't handle.

So, you curled up beside him in his bed with your head leaning on his shoulder as his hands distracted themselves with fiddling with the strings on his acoustic guitar while you nursed the joint between your lips. You were content to simply exist with him; be in his presence and listen to his musical skills. Occasionally, you hand would raise the joint to his lips, allowing him to take his own hit and for the peacefulness to prolong.

Things were good - like they've been for the past few years of being "best friends". I mean, yeah, you knew Eddie before the "Jason incident", but you were just a Freshman that only knew the town's Freak from a distance. You had two classes together. Often saw him at lunch. Sometimes gave him notes if he missed class. And since that day that he protected you from Jason's creepy moves, you've been thicker than thieves.

Things were quiet outside of the occasional crackling of the joint's end, and his lazy strumming; things were peaceful; things were good.

Until Eddie sighed and leaned back to the wall behind you both, interrupting the simple thoughts in your head.

"What's up?" You asked quietly, turning to ash the joint in the plastic tray on his bedside table. "Huffin' pretty loud over there, pretty boy."

"It's stupid," he chuckled, focusing on the strings beneath his fingertips again. "Don't even think about it."

"I doubt it's nothing," you countered. "C'mon, you tell me any and everything."

"I, uh... I don't know how to tell you this thing, though..."

Now you were curious, "You kill someone?"

"What? No! God!"

"Gotta hide a body?"

"Not this weekend."

Nodding, you asked, "You fuck my mom?"

"Not yet, but can't say it's not on my to-do list," he teased lightly.

"Then I don't know what scenario there could be that you're too scared to tell me," you chuckled, smoking wafting in the air between you, lingering from the lack of circulation. "C'mon, cutie, what's up with you? You don't usually hold back.

He sighed, the strings plucking harshly as he his head flopped back now. "It's just... Have you given any thought to prom?"

"Prom?" You repeated with a small laugh. "Not entirely, I don't know. Why? Thinking of crashing it?"

But he was silent, which made you a little nervous. You sat up and turned to face him more, your criss-crossed legs resulting in one knee pressing to his thigh. He looked like he wanted so say something, but a subtle shake from his head assured me that he changed his mind.

"Are you going?" he asked softly instead.

"Um, nobody's asked so I don't know. I'd like to, maybe," you tried to joke. "Why? You offering?"

He chuckled lowly, "Uh, well, I would be, if..."

"If?"

He gulped, "You know Chrissy?"

Of course you knew Chrissy Cunningham, who didn't? You didn't live under a rock, for God's sake. She was the designated 'it girl' of Hawkins, the 'queen' as people dubbed her - a sweet girl who was captain of the cheer squad that had an impeccable smile. Adorable strawberry blonde hair. A petite body, sweet voice, and of course, she'd been Eddie's crush since middle school. Yeah, you knew Chrissy Cunningham.

"Yeah," you breathed, nodding slowly. "What about her?"

"Well, I uh... I was thinking of asking her to prom. You know, before we graduate and get the fuck out of this town... Thought maybe I'd try my hand, you know? See if... See if something could happen."

You swear your ears started ringing because no way you heard him correctly, right? No way he was telling you he was going to ask Chrissy Cunningham to prom - no way. There wasn't any way. After all, the plan since about a year ago was that you would go together pending no other offers. No way the guy you've been in-love with for fucking YEARS was telling you he wanted to ask someone else.

And Eddie didn't know, but about 8 different guys had already asked you but you didn't want to go with them. You wanted Eddie to ask you - you wanted to spend a night of teenage normalcy with your best friend, and maybe get the chance to confess your feelings for him on the dance floor. Maybe you'd dress to match. Maybe he'd even get you a corsage - but Eddie wasn't the type.

So, why was he thinking about asking Chrissy? High school thriving Chrissy? Who was definitely wanted the stereotypical high school experience? Like prom with a pretty dress, lots of laughter, her date giving her a corsage as her mom snapped pictures. She would want all that, right?

You were honestly shocked he wanted to even go due to the idea that anything socially conforming was out of bounds for him. And when you made that pact, it was mostly out of a joke but you had hoped this whole time he was being serious. And he was being serious about prom, but not with you...

"Sweetheart?" Eddie asked softly, his brows now furrowed in concentration. "You okay? You look a little shaky."

Instantly, you nodded. "Yeah, totally, just, um... Just remembered I have this huge essay due Monday, yeah. I should probably get started on it." Eddie's brows now fully crinkled as you jerked your leg away from his when his hand moved to lay on it, turning and instantly finding your belongings scattered around the floor of his bedroom. "Um, yeah, so, as for prom and Chrissy - I think it's cute. You should ask her, she'd be stupid to say no."

Eddie watched you tug your shoes on in haste, sitting up, "Hey, slow down, speed racer, I'll drive you - "

"No, it's cool," you assured swiftly, tugging your jacket on to combat the chill of the spring night. "I need the exercise."

Eddie scoffed, "I'm not letting you walk."

"I don't want a ride, Eddie," your voice took on an uncharacteristic hardened tick. But you couldn't help it, your chest was caving in and lungs burning the longer you stayed there. "I just wanna walk for a bit, clear my head before homework, okay?"

He nodded slowly, "You sure?"

"Positive."

Eddie frowned when your bag was tugged up your shoulder, turning from his room and jumping when he called, "Wait!"

Praying to God he was going to tell you he changed his mind and he wanted to ask you to prom - not Chrissy - you turned to look back to him. But he only pouted, "Don't leave without sayin' goodbye, doll, c'mere."

Fearing the wet sensation coating your throat, you just backed up to the door, "You'll see me later, Eds. I've gotta go."

"Call me when you get home?" He asked, standing from his bed when you pulled his bedroom door open and moved out into the rest of his trailer. "Hey, doll, what's the rush?" Eddie called, jogging a couple steps to follow after you.

"Just gotta go, Eds," you couldn't face him. But something tickled your throat and nose, prompting you to ask, "Um, do you have any tissues?"

He nodded, watching you pause by the front door before turning for the bathroom. A moment later, he returned with a box and handed it over, "Take it. I'm sure your allergies are acting up."

You nodded, "Thanks."

"Wait - "

But you were out the door and surging down the steps of his 'porch', turning on the gravel and making for the main road. Eddie watched you go from his front door, worrying over whatever he'd said but after wracking his mind, he couldn't understand. He didn't need to know your chest was so painful, you debated if you were having a heart attack at 18; making you desperate to get away from him if it meant the pain would lessen.

You cried the whole walk home. The 8-minute car ride was actually a 41 minute walk due to the tightness in your chest, the tissue box tight in your hand as your lungs started to itch, burn, constrict themselves.

The coughing started that night. The entire walk, you used tissue after tissue to cough into and would ignore the flecks of color present against the soft white, shoving them down into your bag.

When you arrived home, the house was, as usual, empty. Steve Harrington used to hang out a lot with you due to how often both of your parents are out of town but once he started dating Nancy Wheeler, all visits stopped. Granted they were broken up now, he still didn't come back, and you were forced to get used to the loneliness. It left room for Eddie to slide into his place, often coming over to keep you company as being home alone for so long often made you nervous.

Eddie hated you feeling nervous, so, he had a couple of shirts and pants at your house for him to change into when he stayed the night. Now that he was going to make a move on Chrissy Cunningham, it made you think there wouldn't ever be other sleepovers. You worried he would never come back to your home, and an ice pick was conjured to stab through my heart.

In your room, you tossed your bag to your bed and groaned when it bounced off and spilled the contents over the floor. Shaking your head, you coughed a couple more times and got ready for bed; but soon, the coughing turned violent.

Kneeling over, your throat burned with tight pain as your chest felt too tight with pressing tension. The heaviness was back, sitting right on your sternum and causing a twisting discomfort when you hurled into the toilet bowl. However, when your eyes opened, they were staring straight into clear water that was peppered with tiny little florals with swirls of bright red blood.

Panting in shock, confusion inked into your mind as you stood shakily to your feet and rushed for your bag again, pushing through the belongings to find the used tissues. Panic swelled in your chest when the tissues found, too, were coated in petals and blood.

"What?" you whispered to yourself, fear taking over. However, instead of doing the rational thing, like go to the hospital, you just threw the tissues away, flushed the rest, and curled up in bed out of exhaustion and draining adrenaline. Sobs wracked your lungs, making your body convulse and for the coughing to get worse.

You didn't move all weekend. You couldn't, for the pain was too great in your heart, mind, and body. Even when the phone rang multiple times through those two days, you couldn't care enough to get out of bed and answer it to see whatever was wanted from you. When the next Monday came around, you forced yourself to get in the shower and wake up from the cold water; getting dressed and heading out the front door to spy Eddie's van at the base of your driveway.

You sighed and made sure there were extra tissues in your bag as you made for his passenger door. When you hopped in, you were greeted with a glare.

"How was the essay?" he grits.

"Fine," you sighed, knowing it was a lie to make your swift escape, and leaned your arm on the door to prop your head up and stare out the window.

"Mhm. Thanks for letting me know you got home safe," he snipped. "Not like I was driving around at 1 am to make sure you weren't dead in a ditch somewhere."

You nodded slowly, "I forgot, I-I'm sorry."

"You forgot?" he repeated before scoffing. But when he glanced over and noted the heavy bags under your distant (watery) eyes, he frowned, "Hey? Y-You okay?"

"Mhm."

"Your nose is bleeding."

"Shit," you hissed, reaching for a tissue, and trying to mop up the blood from under both nostrils. "It's nothing," you tried to explain, sniffling a few times, and noting how sharp the action made your chest. Like something was stabbing through you, perhaps that ice pick again.

He shook his head, leering, "Suuuuure, mhm, okay." But when you didn't respond for another 3 minutes, he was annoyingly asking, "The hell's up with you?"

"Nothing, Eddie."

"Bullshit! You haven't looked at me once, didn't even greet me when you got in, and now you're sitting there, silent as the grave."

You only shrugged, not knowing how to put it in words, "Just tired, Eddie."

"Bullshit," he sighed. "But fine, if you don't want to talk, that's whatever. Just continue ignoring me, I guess."

Your eyes shut as you sighed, whispering, "I'm sorry."

"Why? What'd you do?"

Only shrugging, your head shook, and you sat up when you two made it to school. The moment the car stopped - not even in park - you were opening the passenger door and hopping out. You waited a moment as Eddie got out, too, and just as his arm lifted to wrap around your shoulders to lead you into school, his attention was caught by someone else.

"Oh, there's Chrissy," he smiled, seeing the pretty cheerleader at her car. "Should I do it now?"

Gulping, you shrugged, "Do whatever makes you happy, Eds."

Eddie didn't understand what he did wrong to deserve your cold shoulder but figured he could talk to you later before making a beeline for Chrissy while you made for the front of the school. You ignored peers around you as you stuffed books and such into your locker, wheezing into a tissue when coughing took over.

A few other students paused to look at you with concern; you hand slamming to a closed locker as you couldn't draw breath in. The pain was suffocating, and the coughing made you nearly double over.

Robin paused at the sight, making her way over to you and just before she could ask if you were okay, she was gasping lightly. Looking up, you saw what caught her attention to spy Eddie Munson entering school with Chrissy Cunningham daintily hanging off his arm. Jason's glare was most prominent, but your best friend’s was much, much fiercer and you? You had to look away because the ice pick was now hacking at your heart; palpitations making your chest throb with white-hot, blue warmth.

"Oh, no," Robin paused, glancing at you to see tears already in your eyes as your hands shook. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry - "

"Why?" You sniffled, shaking your head. "Doesn't matter, they look happy, right?"

"You don't," she whispered.

"Doesn't matter," you repeated. "I'll see you later, Rob."

She frowned as you charged away, watching you go as Eddie and Chrissy came to a halt beside her. "She say what was wrong with her?" Eddie asked the girl softly.

"No," Robin grit her teeth, offering him a stale up and down look. Though, she was slightly impressed Eddie bagged the popular cheerleader, she knew of your feelings for the metalhead, and huffed through her nose before taking off down the hall after you.

"Is everyone mad at me now?" He asked, looking down to the girl he'd successfully asked to prom.

"I'm not," Chrissy chirped with a soft smile.

So, here's the whole thing. Even though you've denied it for years, your friends knew DAMN well how in-love with Eddie you were. Robin had been the only one to really pick up on it a few years ago but kept quiet because of how close you and Eddie were. However, when you sat down for lunch, the Hellfire Club were ready to ask what was wrong when they saw their Dungeon Master enter the cafeteria with Chrissy.

They offered you looks of pity.

Your hands started to shake, and you coughed harshly, bending at the waist to cough into a tissue half under the table. From beside you, Dustin caught a glimpse of pink and red in the tissue as your hand fisted over it and sniffled hotly. "Are you okay?" Gareth asked in concern, his wide eyes looking ready to shed tears. "You're sweating."

"Yeah," you whispered, catching sight of Eddie and Chrissy heading for your table. "Um, I-I forgot I have a test to make up in Spanish, so, I'll see you guys later, okay?" You rushed, picking up your untouched tray of food and shouldered your bag.

Before any of them could protest, you were tossing the tray and racing out of the opposite doors Chrissy and Eddie had come in through. You vaguely heard Eddie calling your name, never turning around, and shoving out of the doors.

You gasped when the fresh air hit you, not caring that you lied about some test and now headed down for the field. You didn't care if someone picked up on your lie. You didn't care about anything other than the crushing feeling in your chest; the way your lungs felt deflated, and how your throat was consistently wet from blood.

Robin had seen your abrupt departure and left Nancy Wheeler's side to follow you. When she found you under the bleachers, coughing and throwing up with tears down your cheeks, she knew something was wrong. Robin crawled under the bleachers, not caring about the trash or debris left, to reach your side and hold your hair back.

"Oh, my God," she wobbled, catching sight of the puddle under you. "W-What the hell is that?"

You panted, a string of blood hanging from your lips before falling to the saliva beneath you. "I-I think... I think something's wrong, Robin."

"No shit!" She hissed. "Let me take you to the nurse - "

"No, it's fine," you insisted, using another tissue to wipe at the blood under your nose. "I uh... I think I know what's going on."

"What?"

"We'll need to go to the library first," you nodded before shaking your head. "No, never mind, y-you should go back to class."

"Nope," she insisted. "I'll go to the library with you. Want me to call Steve? Get us a ride?"

You sniffled and nodded, tugging your bent knees into your chest as she nodded and begged you to stay put before dashing for the outside payphone. She felt anger as her eyes cast through the glass windows of the cafeteria, catching sight of Chrissy and Eddie laughing away with the rest of the Hellfire Club. Her fingers roughly punched in Steve's number and insisted he come pick you and her up. "Right fucking now, dingus!"

About 15 minutes later, Eddie had glanced out of the windows and caught the distance sight of Robin holding you in her arms and walking you (slowly) to Steve Harrington's trademark BMW.

His brows furrowed in confusion and concern before Chrissy's sweet voice was distracting him. In fact, he might've let himself get swept up in the sweetness of Chrissy - that he forgot you. The girl he's wanted since middle school was finally in his grasp but in order to do that, he had to let you go - resulting in cherry blossoms to sprout in your lungs.

The moment he made up his mind about Chrissy was the moment your fate was sealed. And after a trip to the library with Steve and Robin, you had your answer as to what was going on. It didn't make sense, but you understood there were three options for you at this point.

Option One: die. Literally, that was it. Let this disease kill you. Okay, then Option Two: get Eddie to love you back... And that was seemingly farfetched and way out of asking range. Third Option was to undergo a surgery, but according to literature, choosing this surgery would save your life but erase Eddie Munson from your memory. It was the only way to stop the pain besides dying from it or make someone to fall in love with you.

But that wasn't real love, was it?

So, you checked the book out and Steve drove you home.

You thought you could handle things, after all, the book said it could be manageable. So, you soldiered on and played everything off the next Monday as if you had some head cold making you a bit off, and not literal florals blooming in your fucking lungs.

Eddie didn't question it because he was too excited to tell you that Chrissy had said yes. She said yes - to him! To prom! And she was going to wear red, his favorite color. He was so shocked, it made you want to weep a little because Eddie Munson seemed to be the only one (minus Jason Carver) to not understand how amazing Eddie Munson truly was...

Well, maybe the rest of the school body didn't understand either, but that was beside the point. Eddie was always too hard on himself and hearing how shocked and happy he was that Chrissy said yes, just made you honestly sad. He didn't even know how loved he was, making the self-deprivation very real. It was once upon time ago that your job was help him out of those ruts, but now it would be Chrissy's responsibility.

You knew if he was yours, you wouldn't let a single day go by where he thought he was inadequate. But he wasn't yours, and now that he had Chrissy, you knew he never would be.

Your throat swelled and more petals were coughed into a tissue in your hand when you realized that you'd bought a prom dress (in case Eddie did ask you) about a month ago, and it, too, was red. Yet, he was going to match Chrissy and you'd wasted $150 on a pretty, silk dress... And new heels because your mother insisted you feel (and look) like a princess.

You tried to be excited and happy for him, but it was hard to when Eddie was enraptured with Chrissy. You coughed more in that week than when you had that terrible flu 2 years ago.

When that Friday rolled around, you were heading for his van (like usual), only to find him and Chrissy waiting on you.

"Hey," you greeted cautiously, smiling at the pretty girl you never really had a full conversation with.

"Hey," Eddie smiled - and you noted the lack of pet names. "Uh, you ready?"

"Um, yeah," you cleared your throat, glancing at Chrissy again.

He understood your nonverbal question. "I'm thinking I'll drop you off at home first. Cool?" Eddie offered, looking at you as his arm snaked around Chris' waist.

Confusion warped into your voice, "Um, i-it's Friday?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"I-I thought we hung out on Fridays? Like, every Friday?"

Eddie's other hand rose to rub the back of his neck, "Well, yeah, usually, but I'm taking Chrissy out on a date, so, I'll have to drop you off first."

"Oh," your eyes widened, and you felt so fucking stupid in that moment. "Shit, okay, my bad," you backed away, "I can get another ride, it's no big deal. Have fun on your date!"

"Hey, no, don't be ridiculous," Eddie shook his head, taking a tentative step forward as if he was nervous to leave Chrissy's side and approach you. "I take you home every day, c'mon. It's nothing, get in the van. I always take you home."

But you felt sick over the petty idea of sitting in the back while Chrissy took your seat in Eddie's car... Your place in Eddie's life.

Your head shook and a half-smile was forced over your lips. "No, it's seriously okay. You guys should go, it's cool. Have fun, okay?"

Eddie frowned, "I'll call you later tonight, okay?"

"Sure," you whispered, turning finally, and hustling your steps back for the school. Your hand balled in a fist to catch the splatter of blood and petals that shot out of your mouth, trying to shake the sick off so nobody would notice.

Light pink petals danced to the pavement behind you, and your heart plummeted with it as Eddie's van tires squealed when he peeled out of the carpark.

Robin was still at school and agreed to give you a ride home with Steve and Dustin Henderson; the two sharing looks of concern for you the entire drive. They kept asking if they could do anything, but the truth was, they could see the life slowly draining from you, and knew they couldn't do anything.

You didn't answer Eddie's call that night. You didn't let him drive you to school, either, since he'd been busy with Chris that all your conversations now revolved around the girl. This didn't mean he didn't come pick you up, but you usually always opted for the bus to "catch up on reading." You didn't hang out on Fridays either, because it was "date night with Chrissy", and you didn't sit at the Hellfire Club table at lunch.

It went on like this for another three weeks. Eddie replaced you with Chrissy, and she was everywhere you looked. You stopped going to lunch all together in an effort to save yourself from the sight of Eddie's arm around the pretty, popular cheerleader; instead, coughing out cherry blossoms under the bleachers and then forcing a smile on your lips like nothing happened.

The time you did spend together (a minuscule amount of time in comparison), Eddie would fill the space between you with chatter about how amazing Chrissy was - unaware of the pain he was causing you.

Unaware that every word strangled breath from you.

Unaware that you often held your breath to save you from the pain; to save you from bursting into tears; to save you from yelling at your best friend that you didn't care he finally bagged his crush.

Eddie was going mad, however. He didn't understand your distance, but he also didn't do anything to rectify. He just figured you were going through something, and you'd show up at his trailer soon; tears down your cheeks as his arms open to welcome you.

He started to count the day since he last touched you. Eddie began to feel as if maybe he'd done the right thing by choosing Chrissy due to how far you pulled away from him. He's loved you for years but never admitted or confronted the feelings; so, he convinced himself to let you go in pursuit of Chrissy. So, to save himself from rejection of the most important person in his life, he thought it was a "safer rejection" by asking Chrissy.

He was just shocked she accepted, though he had a sneaking suspicion it was just to piss Jason off. Eddie didn't mind being her distraction because Chrissy was his distraction from you.

When the week of prom rolled around, you couldn't get out of bed because you were in excruciating pain in your heart and mind. Your mother had left on another business trip and only left a stack of cash for "emergencies", telling you she loved you, and never noticing your overflowing waste bin of bloody tissues. So, when Eddie rolled up that Monday, he was confused when you didn't come outside for a few minutes. He beeped, waited longer, beeped again - louder and longer - before confusion troubled his heart.

He knew you were upset and distant, he knew you "liked" riding the bus now; but he also knew you weren't out of your house, yet. He planned it because he wanted to ensure you drove to school together - like usual.

Eddie got out of his van and approached your door, knocking repeatedly but never receiving an answer.

When he got to school, Chrissy told him to call your house and check on you - standing with him, as all he did was listen to the dial tone of a connecting call. You never answered.

At lunch, Eddie found Robin and asked her if she spoke to you at all this past weekend. She glared, "What? You didn't?"

"No," Eddie admitted, "I-I was with Chrissy the whole - "

Robin's eyes rolled and she stood abruptly, making Eddie take a step back. "Forgive me while I go vomit," Robin deadpanned, casting a single glare over his shoulder to the strawberry blonde before pushing past them both.

Eddie asked Hellfire what he'd done - but none of them had an answer. "She's not been looking well," Dustin mentioned. "Keeps coughing out blood."

"What?" Eddie asked, rigid with fear.

Dustin nodded slowly, "I don't think she knows I know, but Steve gave her a ride with us, and her tissues are all bloody."

"She's coughing out blood?" Gareth asked sadly, Dustin nodding. "That's not good, we should get her to a hospital."

"She won't go," Dustin frowned. "I heard Robin trying to convince her, but she keeps saying she's fine."

"She's not fine," Eddie growled.

"Obviously," Lucas rolled his eyes. "She's also not sat with us for weeks."

"She's been avoiding everyone," Jeff added sadly.

"Wonder why," Lucas sneered, casting a glare at his Dungeon Master.

"Am I supposed to know what you're insinuating, Sinclair?" Eddie snipped.

"Aren't you her best friend? Shouldn't you know that she's sick - instead of hearing it from Dustin?"

Eddie shrugged, "So, what? I haven't been able to track her every move. I've been busy - "

"With Chrissy," Dustin and Lucas chimed together; Lucas rolling his eyes before stabbing a green bean forcefully.

"We know," the Freshman 'all-star' basketball player rolled his eyes, pushing his tray away and glaring to the tabletop.

"What did I do?" Eddie asked, looking to his comrades with earnest confusion.

None of them answered because nobody knew what was really wrong. All your friends (including outside of Hellfire) felt concern fester because you were never forthcoming with problems. You never asked for help - it was something observed by others before they're offering you a hand. So, if you were going through something, they knew you'd handle it alone until you couldn't anymore and would confide in him.

Eddie grew increasingly frustrated as time went. For you, time was slower than ever, and you were forced to live through each painful retch and convulsion of your muscles. You laid in bed; a blood projectile splattered across your sheets; dotted with pretty petals.

The night of prom rolled around, and you were knelt in front of your toilet. It had gotten worse; Dustin phoning you every day to update you on school and unconsciously complaining about how much time Eddie and Chrissy were spending - causing a riff in the group. You tried to assure the Freshman that it was a new and exciting relationship for them both, but Dustin voiced his concerns after spying Chrissy speaking with her ex, Jason Carver.

The vomiting got worse after Dusty's phone call. Acid burned your nose and your throat wept for relief; finding only more pain as the toilet bowl before you decorated with not just your blood, but actual buds of flowers. You knew naturally that cherry blossoms didn't have thorns, but there, before you, were floating pieces of your flesh that was cut from the sharp floral.

You sobbed the whole night. Your chest was ready to cave in and the vomiting, nor pain, wouldn't stop. You wondered if this was how it ended for you - alone, on prom night, coughing out blood while the rest of the town got their romantic night.

Fuckers, you thought bitterly.

But then - the weirdest fucking thing happened. Amid vomiting more buds and thorns, your chest started to feel a little clearer and you could cough the rattling wetness from your lungs. There was just slight relief, but enough for you to draw in harsh breaths. You panted and spat out another bloom, trying to ignore how oddly poetically beautiful this was - to die by a fucking flower strangling me. Your body was thinner in the weeks since your turmoil started, throat too raw to pass any food as your lungs were stuffed with petals. It made living harder.

It made getting out of bed physically impossible.

It made your feet numb.

Your chest aches.

Your head to throb.

And your stomach to knot itself.

Sweat pooled over your brow and your hand rose to wipe at your nose, smearing blood over your cheeks. More vomiting. More pain. More petals and blooms and thorns and blood.

It felt like it'd never end but that was the most justice you had - that this would kill you because you couldn't let go of the love you had for Edward Munson. Love that would last a lifetime - or until it killed you.

Seemed like a fate closer than graduation.

You were startled when knuckles began rapping on your window as another violent purge overtook you. Shaking and sobbing, you ignored whoever had climbed up to your window because you were so focused on keeping your hair back as you purged.

The rapping turned into full-on pounding; the glass pane shaking.

The blossoms were bigger now. Thicker. Small, wee little stems on them that only added to your pain. Petals were left behind on your tongue and cheeks; throat bleeding into your stomach from the way thorns shredded it up and down.

"Hey, hey, hey, sweetheart," you recognized Eddie's voice over the sounds of your retching. "Shit, you're okay, I got you," he assured quietly, taking your hair in his hands to hold back as another wave racked through your body. "You're okay, let it out," he soothed, sitting on the lip of the bathtub, and rubbing your back.

You sniffled and spat the remaining petals in your mouth, using your arms to cover the toilet bowl and block his sight. "W-What're you doing here?" You asked through a thick tongue.

"Your window was open, I let myself in." He reached out for the toilet paper and pulled a bit off, gingerly reaching up and wiping the blood from my lips. "A-Are these petals?" He asked in shock, looking at the toilet tissue.

"Why're you here, Eddie?" You asked again, turning to close the toilet lid and rest your head on it. The cool porcelain felt nice on your feverish skin.

"Where else would I want to be?"

You scoffed, "Just fuck off back to Chrissy, I know that's where you'd want be."

It was quiet as sweat dried on your skin and created a new cooling sensation across your tired muscles. "Why're you throwing up blood and petals?"

"Why are you here?" You snapped, lifting your head to glare at him. "If I wanted you around, I would've called."

"Haven't called me in weeks."

"Then maybe I don't want you around. Just go - get out," you grit, turning away from him again. "This is hard enough with you fucking here. Get out."

It was quiet as Eddie didn't move, your chest rattling with every labored breath to make it sound like a wheeze. It caused a new wave of violent coughing, Eddie's eyes widening when you appeared to choke on something in your throat, toilet lid lifted as your fingers crammed in the back of your throat.

From this position, Eddie could make out the blood and blooms floating in the water, flinching when you threw up blood - a sight he'd never wanted to see again. Thorns cut your mouth and lips, making you whimper in sheer pain as your chest was ready to cave in finally. Sweat coated your skin again, and Eddie refused to leave your side. He watched you as your body shook with each retch; how the color of blood stained your lips like expensive make-up.

When you panted and threw yourself back to the wall behind you, Eddie reached out and started to wipe blood from your nose, mouth, chin, and cheeks.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.

"Tell you what?" You wheezed.

"That you were sick."

You scoffed, "Would it have mattered? You're too busy with Chrissy."

He shook his head, "We broke up."

Now this - this shocked you. Your brows furrowed, "It's prom night."

"Mhm."

"All you wanted was to go to that stupid fucking dance with her," you pointed out.

He nodded, "I thought so, too. Until we got there, and I realized that I was with the wrong girl... I thought I wanted to be with her, she was unobtainable and has been my crush for years..."

"Guessing the real thing didn't compare with your imagination?" You sneered, rolling your eyes. "Big fucking deal, Eddie - "

"No, no, I uh... I just, we got there, and I wanted it to be you."

Something in your chest twisted.

"That's not funny," your eyes rolled again.

"I'm not joking. I wanted to be with you all night - hell, every day the past few weeks you've been avoiding me. Why? Was it that shitty to see me and Chris together?"

You admitted, "Yes."

"What?"

You chuckled dryly, "It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

And there it was... "Yeah," You whispered, "love me like a best friend, right - " Only, the words were gargled as you leaned forward and puked violently.

"No, sweetheart," Eddie frowned, holding your hair again. "Shit, this isn't good, baby, we need to get you to a hospital."

"No," You groaned into the bowl.

"Please," he begged, other hand coming to sooth up and down your back. "You're in pain, and - "

"It doesn't matter, Eddie," you coughed again, sticking your tongue out to pick a few petals off. They fell to the water, a sightly morbid beautiful imagine as blood swirled.

"It does matter! To me, it does!"

"Why!?"

"Because - Jesus Christ!" He raged, anger finally morphing over his expression. "I'm in love with you, God damn it!"

Your brows furrowed, bottom lip trembling, "W-What?"

He shook his head, "You really don't know?"

"Know WHAT?" You felt anger swell in your stomach. "That I've spent the past however many years thinking I was only good enough to be your friend, and now you're telling me you're in love with me? What? Did Chrissy stand you up? You need a rebound?"

He sighed, nudging you over an inch to slide down the wall into the space between you and the bathtub. You both stared forward, a light splattering of blood across the pale porcelain you stared at.

"I was the one who left her," he admitted with a sigh. "I just... We got to the first dance, and I just hated myself, because all I wanted - for the last few weeks, too - has been to have you in my arms, again. I've missed you more than anything."

You shook your head, "You've wanted Chrissy - "

"She was a want, doll," he whispered. "But I realized tonight that you're a need. I need you in my life, baby, please believe me. Look, I-I got caught up in the excitement of dating Chrissy, but she knew my heart wasn't 100% in it, and told me it was okay."

"Ch-Chrissy told you to leave?"

"She told me to run to you and not let go when I had you in my arms," he nodded, looking down at me now. "She knew the whole time... I couldn't stand being away from you, not talking to you, so she offered to help distract me until I bucked up the nerve."

"Nerve to what?"

"Ask you to be mine," he smiled softly. "Look, I know, I've had this thing for Chris, and when I finally had her, I just didn't know what to do. But she knew the whole time, and insisted I come find you."

"Oh," you breathed, chest tight for a new reason.

"And I realized I was at the prom with the wrong woman," he nodded, gingerly reaching his hand out to stroke over mine. I sniffled and turned my hand over to lace our fingers together, leaning into his shoulder. "Not seeing you there, I felt worse than ever before. I couldn't admit I was in love with you - I was scared we'd lose this. Our friendship, we'd lose the comfort and protection."

Tears swelled in your eyes as you squeezed them shut; a few tears rolling sadly down your cheeks. "You don't mean that..."

"How can you say that?" He asked incredulously.

"Because you just feel bad," you whimpered. "It's okay, Eddie. I'm okay - you don't have to do this. It doesn't matter - "

"Anything regarding you, to me, definitely matters. Why're you so against this - against us?"

"Because it's not real," you sniffled. "You've been in love with - "

"Please, please, go ask Chrissy yourself," Eddie begged, shaking his head. "She'll tell you - go ask Dustin, Garth, Jeff - anyone, baby. Please. I'm in love with you, and I need you to believe it."

"Why now?"

"Why what?"

"Why tell me now?"

He chuckled, "Because I hoped there was enough time to get here and take the girl of my dreams to prom."

"You don't even like prom. Or any social gathering, for that matter."

He chuckled, "Yeah, very true, but you're everything to me and I know you wanted to go. Remember last year?" You sighed, soft smile stretching across your face. "You were so excited that I made you that pact that if neither of us had a date, we'd go together." You nodded against his shoulder. "And I just thought... I thought other guys wanted to take you, and you'd want to go with them more. So, I panicked and focused on Chrissy..."

You sighed, "I wish you told me the truth... And that you'd have just asked me properly."

"I regret nothing more," he sighed. "Because it made you feel left out and neglected."

You nodded, "Eddie?"

"Yeah, peaches?"

The old nickname from 10th grade made heat pool in your chest, cheeks, and ears; feeling flustered as you whispered, "I'm in love with you, too."

"Yeah?" He chuckled.

"Mhm."

He sighed, "Oh, thank God."

You couldn't help but chuckle lightly, "What?"

He looked down at you with a grin, "Been waiting years to hear that."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Since I decked Carver in the face, yeah," he breathed. "Just wanted to pull you into my arms and tell you how much I loved you."

"Maybe if you did, we could've had more time together."

"We have all the time in the world, baby," he beamed. "'Cause I'm not letting you go - hear me? You're mine, and I'm not letting go."

You smiled and leaned up so you could rest your forehead on his, "I don't want you to let go."

"I'll hold on forever, baby," he whispered. "But I have something important to ask you..."

"Hmm?"

"Think you're feeling up for a dance with me?"

You chuckled and nodded, "Uh, maybe one. Do we have to go to the school?"

"Nope, not if you don't want to."

You paused for a moment, asking shyly, "Eddie?"

"Yeah, peaches?"

"Would you go to prom with me?"

Eddie chuckled, "You're throwing up blood, baby, I think I should take you to the hospital."

"Come with me, I need to show you something," you sighed, reaching forward to flush the blood and petals before standing up. With his hand in yours, you lead him from the bathroom and to your room, sitting in on the bed and placing a book in his lap.

"What am I looking at?"

"Just... Read this page," you pointed to the paragraph you wanted him to read; taking the spot beside him and leaning to his shoulder again as he scanned the page quickly.

"Holy shit," he breathed at the end, looking up at you with tears in his eyes. "Doll, no, no, no. I-I did this to you?"

"I did it to myself," you whispered.

"B-But I've been in love with you, too? So, how did this happen?"

"Neither of us admitted it to ourselves. At least for me, it was until the night you told me you were thinking of asking Chrissy out."

"For me, it was until tonight," he realized with a whisper. "I-I told Chrissy I loved you, an-and it was the first time I admitted it..."

You nodded, "Yeah... So, uh... Yeah."

"Fuck," he shook his head.

"But it's over now, right?" you asked quietly.

"Yeah, baby, it's all over," he nodded, tossing the library book aside to turn and wrap you in his arms. He whined lightly and tugged so you were straddled in his lap, running a hand through your hair. "Oh, my sweet girl, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine the pain."

"You're here now," You whispered into his neck, fingers twirling a strand of his hair as your other hand clung to his neck. "That's all I care about."

"I'm never leaving," he swore, arms tight around my waist to drag me all the closer. "I'm so sorry, peaches, I-I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay," you promised, sniffling after. "I could've spoken up, too, but I was ashamed. I didn't want to ruin anything between you and Chrissy."

"Promise me, you'll tell me from now on. Okay? I don't care what's happening or where you and I stand - you fucking tell me, okay?"

You nodded, sniffling lightly, "Yeah, okay, baby, deal."

"Hey," he cooed, pulling me from his neck. His hand reached up to caress the side of my cheek, "I love you, pretty girl."

The smile on your lips felt silly, but you replied, "I love you, too, baby."

"Can I kiss you? Please?" He pouted, making you chuckle lightly before reaching for his cheek and bringing him in to meet your lips. He groaned in relief, hands tightly over my ribs before sliding to my back as his tongue poked against my lips, sweeping into my mouth. I whined lightly, Eddie making a noise of surprise as he pulled back, a string of saliva trailing.

My brows furrowed as he reached up and picked something off his tongue; a light pink cherry blossom petal stuck between his pointer and thumb. "Oh, my God," I wheezed, leaning forward to rest against his chest and push my face into his neck. "I'm so sorry."

He chuckled and let the petal flutter to the ground, "Kinda hot."

"Eddie," you whined.

"I'm sorry, baby," he chuckled, pecking the side of my head. "Are you feeling better?"

"Mhm."

He pulled back to grin at me, "Wanna go to prom then?"

You sighed lightly, gazing down at him in his suit and smiling lightly when you pressed over his red shirt. "Did you match Chrissy?"

He sighed, "She ended up choosing a green dress. Thought red was more my color," he smirked lightly. "But I can't lie, we looked like human Christmas."

You snorted in humor. "Red's definitely your color," you agreed, glancing back at your closet before back at him. "Um, wanna give me a few minutes? We can leave after?"

"Take as much time as you need, peaches," he nodded, leaning in with another smile to press his lips to your own. He chuckled a few times, pecking his lips rapidly before pulling away.

Within an hour, your hair was fixed off your neck; make-up minimal but still noticeable; and red dress shimmied up your body to then tie over your shoulders. Lacing your shoes on, you looked in the mirror before exiting your room and descending the stairs to find Eddie hunched over a counter, working in the kitchen on something.

You cleared your throat as your fingers fiddled together nervously when Eddie turned, and you swear time stopped. "Shit," he breathed, eyes weeping you up and down. "Oh, my... God."

"Yeah?" you asked, looking over the red material.

"Oh, hell yeah," he nodded, slowly approaching you. "You look beautiful, peaches, wow... Shit."

"You've said that," you teased. "Whatcha makin' over there?"

He smirked and picked up a flower from the counter, turning and taking your wrist. "My girl needs a corsage," he explained, showing off the flower he'd clipped from an old bouquet and then fashioned with a rubber band and safety pin. "There," he smiled when it was settled, "now you're ready for senior prom, huh?"

You nodded, hands placed to his chest as you smoothed out a few wrinkles, "You look unbelievably good right now."

He chuckled, "Look who's talkin'. Givin' Bo Derek a run for her money, aren't you? God damn."

You couldn't help the bright grin across your face, stepping into his embrace. "I love you," you whispered.

"I don't think I'll get used to hearing that," he beamed, pecking my lips after. "I love you, too, baby - so much. And I'm so sorry it took me this long. You didn't deserve that..."

"It's done now," you nodded.

"And we're never going back," his hands rose to caress either of my cheeks. "Now - wanna go rock this prom?"

"Smoke up your van after?"

"You know it, princess," he grinned, pressing another kiss to my lips. "My lady," he smirked teasingly, offering his bent arm.

"My lord," you breathed, arm around his, and chest feeling lighter than it had in weeks months. Maybe things would be okay and they could work out, but for now, it was refreshing to live in the moment with Eddie. Your partner in crime. Your other half. Your best friend, and now your boyfriend. Someone you adored - and someone who adored you in full return.

Maybe love wasn't too bad after all - when it's not trying to suffocate you from the inside.

•

[godsmitedeli]

would anyone read an eddie munson x gn!reader fic based on the song Bad Habit by Steve Lacy if I wrote one?

[amatchinwater]

I Know What You Want From Me / Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Song fic of 18 by Anarbor, your parents kick you out when you tell them you can't be with Jason because you're already dating Eddie...except that you aren't. So now you have to go to Eddie after not speaking for years and ask to not only live with him, but pretend to date you too. What could possibly go wrong there?

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, semi-public sex (they're in the woods), squirting, unprotected sex (reader on pill, but not stated until after), cream pie, choking, spanking, protective reader (Jason gets his shit rocked), angst with a happy ending, fluff, protective Eddie, reader's parents are awful

Words: 9746 (oops?)

a/n: I feel like I've been working on this forever and a day. With the finale, I had to stop because angst wasn't something I could handle just yet. But the fluff and ending makes the angst worth it. Requests are still open.

Master list

Not my gif!! Credit to the lovely @msmischief101

It’s been a long time since you’ve pulled into Forest Hills Trailer Park. A really long fucking time. Part of you wants to turn around, just get on the highway and never look back at this godforsaken town and their prejudiced beliefs. That having money and a pristine lifestyle makes you worth something. It’s bullshit. And you fucking hate it. And you want out. Hell, your bags are already packed in the backseat behind you.

You’re eighteen, legally, if you really wanted to, you could run. Run as far away from not only Hawkins, but Indiana in general. Now that you’re eighteen, you have a sizable trust fund. Your father wanted to rescind your rights to it. Change it to where you’d only see a penny once you were twenty-one. Or worse; married. Somehow your mother convinced him not to do that, that you’d be able to use the money for college. 

You’re not even sure you want to do that either. 

But there was one person in your life who told you that no matter what you did, they’d always stick beside you. While that statement hasn’t held true these last six years or so, it was far from it being his fault. No, you shamefully hold that crown. 

Once you started to rise up the social ladder in school and your father got a big time promotion at work, your parents forced the social debutant bullshit on you. You hated every single second of it. Every one of those dumb parties they dragged you to. The dinners and get-togethers. They all sucked. And everyone there was so vapid and full of themselves, you wanted to scream. 

Now that you’re eighteen and “supposed” to be looking at prestigious colleges for some job you’ll never want, your parents did the worst thing imaginable. They tried to set you up. Quite literally wanted to give you an arranged marriage. God, the look your father gave you like it was supposed to be some wonderful gift you should be grateful for. As if being pawned off to someone like Jason Carver is to be coveted. 

Fuck that. 

So you did something really stupid. Like, really stupid. You told them that you couldn’t be with Jason because you were already with someone else. You’d hoped it would just be enough to make them drop the issue. It wasn’t. They poked and prodded until you gave them a name. You told them the only person in Hawkins you could even remotely think of. 

Eddie Munson. 

The conversation with your parents was pretty short after that. Being told to pack your bags and not come back if you wanted to align yourself with “someone like him.” That if you were grown up enough to make your choices, to go live with him and see how long it lasts, and not to come crying to them when you wind up pregnant. 

You did exactly that. Grabbed everything you felt couldn’t be replaced and left. But for some reason, instead of just driving towards the town limit and getting the fuck out of dodge, you found yourself on your way to the trailer you used to spend a good chunk of your childhood in. 

Because you grew up there. You were once neighbors- something your parents try very hard to forget- and childhood best friends. You used to be on a first name basis with Wayne. And despite what everyone says about him, that he’s a freak or the satanist propaganda, you know Eddie. Knew Eddie. So maybe there was some small part of you that hoped Eddie was still that sweet kid at heart and would let you crash for a few months until graduation and then you could leave Hawkins for good. 

It was a stupid idea from the start. One not fully formulated or even properly processed. 

But here you are, pulling up to the familiar, yet foreign trailer with Eddie’s van parked right out front. And of course it’s pouring rain. The day your life goes to shit wouldn’t be a nice, calm evening. No. When have you ever been that lucky? When is anyone that lucky? 

Turning the engine off, you sit and listen to the rain patter against the roof of your car. Contemplating leaving again. Maybe the real reason you came here was so that you would be convinced to stay. Eddie has never been one to run from his problems. The bloody nose he gave Jason a year ago for taking a swing on him is proof of that. So maybe you really want someone to tell you to man the fuck up and grab life by the balls or some shit. 

Just some strange words that manage to sound inspiring because they’re coming from Eddie’s goofy grin. 

“Fuck it,” you grind your teeth, shoving your door open and stepping out into the storm, wincing when the freezing water sinks into your skin. “Shit, shit, shit,” you jog up to his front door, thankful for the awning over the porch. Not letting yourself be talked out of this, you pound on the door to be heard over Shout at the Devil being blasted from Eddie’s room. 

“Henderson, I already told you-” Eddie’s yelling as he yanks open the front door, “-you’re not Henderson.” 

“No,” you shiver, hands rubbing your arms. How did you possibly get drenched in the ten steps it took you to get from the car to his door? Eddie’s features are guarded and you can’t help but shiver again. From the cold or his stare, you’re not really sure. Maybe you should just leave. The highway is sounding more and more tempting. “I should just-” you trail off, gesturing back towards your car.

Eddie finally takes a look at your state and his eyes widen, furrowed eyebrows losing their tension, “no, come in,” he opens the door further. “I-I’ll get you a towel,” Eddie runs off. 

Shaky bones carry you over the threshold, goosebumps only getting angrier at the warmth of the trailer. It looks exactly like it did the last time you were here. Except maybe a few more hats have joined the collection on the wall. Eddie comes back with two towels, placing one on the couch and offering you the other. “Thanks,” you take it, toweling your hair before wrapping it around your shoulders, sitting on the one he’d set down for you. “I’m sorry to just barge in like this,” your eyes begin to burn with tears. 

“What happened? Are you okay?” Eddie sits beside you and you can practically feel his warmth radiating off of him. That's how cold you are. 

“I did something really stupid,” you admit, shaking your head, wanting to curl up in a hole. “My parents want to hand me over to Jason. Pretty bow and everything,” you choke out a laugh. “Like I’m some prized trophy wife or some shit.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie nearly shouts. You laugh sarcastically, nodding your head. His face twists, “but hang on, that’s a stupid thing they did. What stupid thing did you do?”

You fiddle with the fraying corner of the towel, dropping your gaze to your lap, “I told them that I couldn’t be with Jason.”

“That doesn’t seem stu-”

“Because I’m in a relationship with you,” you pull your head back up, meeting deer in the headlight brown eyes and a slack jaw. Nerves make your tongue ramble, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I told them that. You were the first person that came to mind when they wouldn’t stop asking me who could be more important than Jason. And I just- I didn’t know what to do. So I just thought- I don’t know what I thought. But w-we used to be best friends once, I-”

“Yeah, once,” Eddie tongue in cheek scoffs, “then you got popular and I didn’t matter anymore. So, what? You thought you would just come here and I would live up to this fantasy relationship? Because it’s you?”

Your head drops again, “they told me if I wanted to be with you that badly that I should go live with you. That they didn’t recognize their daughter anymore. They kicked me out, or maybe I just ran. I don’t know, Eddie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into this.” Tears spill from your eyes, when you look back up at him, “I’ll just get back in the car and leave town like I should’ve done in the first place. I’m sorry,” you take the towel off your shoulders and place it in his lap, getting up off the couch. 

You make it all of three steps until Eddie’s hand wraps around your wrist, “wait.” He sighs as you turn to face him. “Let me get this straight, you told your parents you were dating me because I was the only person you could think of that was better than Jason?” 

Rolling your eyes, you scoff, “well, duh.” It might have been instinct that made you say it, doesn’t make it any less true. Jason doesn’t hold a candle to Eddie in any situation. Not to you. Years of separation be damned. 

“And you now have nowhere to live?” You shake your head no. Eddie sighs again, “I’ll do it.” 

“W-what?” You ask. Because surely you heard him wrong. Eddie doesn’t owe you a fucking thing. “What do you mean you’ll do it?” 

“I’ll help you keep this facade that we’re dating for the sake of your parents and Jason,” he sneers at the name. “Move in here with me, Wayne won’t mind. He still asks about you from time to time, I’m sure he’d love the idea. And then, when you graduate, you’re free to do whatever you want.”

Blinking rapidly, you nearly stumble backwards. Shocked that Eddie would do this. “Why?”

“Your parents are assholes,” Eddie laughs and you do too. He’s far from wrong. “Pissing them off by pretending to date you and giving you a safe place to live? Fuck yeah, I’ll do it. Besides, I’m sure if they told you about it, Jason already knows. Which means I get to make that asshole jealous. It’s a win-win.” He laughs again, softer this time along with his smile. “And you’re right. We were best friends once, maybe we could be again.” 

“I really don’t give a fuck what Jason or my parents think, Eddie. I’m just sick of them thinking that they can control me,” you tell him. “But if giving them the finger is enough incentive for you, then I appreciate it. For what it’s worth, I really miss having you as my best friend.” 

“Me too,” he smiles, pulling you into a hug. “How about you go take a shower and I’ll make you some hot chocolate. Booze free this time,” Eddie chuckles.

You laugh, remembering when you were younger and neither of you thought Wayne would notice the vodka two twelve year olds put in their drinks. “Honestly, I probably wouldn’t mind it this time around,” you pull away. 

“Comin' right up,” Eddie grins, heading into the kitchen while you go down the hallway. 

Stopping at the bathroom you poke your head around the corner, “hey, Eds.” He stops humming, milk hoovering the pot, quirking an eyebrow at you. “Thank you,” you smile, tucking into the bathroom to shower off before he can answer. 

—

At school the next day, you’re not really sure what to expect. Eddie drove you in his van and you were given more than a few looks from people you don’t even know. Which were thankfully easy enough to ignore. Somehow you’re also lucky enough that all of your classes before lunch didn’t have a single one of your “friends” either. Friends meaning Jason’s friends who were nice to you because you had money and a pretty face. 

But your actual lunch period? Practically the entire basketball team shared the same block as you. And the second you walk out of the lunch line, Jason immediately finds you. You’re wearing darker clothes and have certainly kept your head down. How the fuck did he find you so fast? 

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he smiles with too much teeth. Voice so sweet it’s sickening. 

“Should’ve hid better,” you mumble, clutching your tray to your chest to keep a barrier between the two of you. “Did you need something?” You ask, eyes scanning the room to find literally anyone you could run to to save you from this. You find Eddie’s friends from Hellfire all around the table, but no sign of Eddie himself. You know their names thanks to Eddie telling you about them last night. But you don’t really think you can just go up to them for help. 

“Well, I was talking to your parents the other day,” he pushes his hands farther into his letterman jacket pockets, ducking his head to appear coy. “I was hoping you’d like to go on a date with-”

An arm snakes around your waist and you nearly jump out of your skin, until you hear, “there you are, babe.” Eddie curls you close to him, kissing the side of your head, “you ready to go sit?” 

You turn to him with a grateful smile, ready to answer, but someone else’s words come out. 

“What the fuck is this?” Jason snaps. 

“I’m sure you know Eddie,” you smile sweetly, fighting the eye roll at the jock before you. “My boyfriend,” you state, loving the way Jason’s eyes are ready to bulge out of his head. Eddie chuckles smugly beside you, his grip tightening only just. You’re actually glad he’s getting something out of this too. Even if it’s just shoving it in Jason’s face. Makes it feel like you’re not using him.

“I thought they were joking!” Jason seethes, “you’re seriously with this freak? You chose him over me? A freak?” 

“Eds, could you hold this please?” You extend your tray towards him, which he takes with a confused expression. “Thanks,” you kiss his cheek, turning your attention back to the blonde. “One, no, it’s not a fucking joke. Two, he’s not a freak. And three,” you slap Jason right across the cheek with a resounding crack, silencing the cafeteria. “If I hear you say some shit like that about him again, you’ll be lucky a slap is all you get. Fuck off, Jason.” 

“Holy shit,” Eddie sputters a laugh, “that was fucking awesome!” Wrapping an arm around your shoulder, Eddie walks you towards the Hellfire table, neither of you caring about the grumbling jock behind you. Or the hushed chatter that’s fallen over the cafeteria. “And here I thought I was the one coming to your rescue,” he teases, placing your tray on the table surrounded by his wide eyed friends. “Come here,” Eddie sits down, his arms locking around your waist to pull you into his lap. “Thank you.”

“I’m your girlfriend, Eddie,” you remind him. Though it’s just for show, it doesn't mean that you’re not going to act the way a proper girlfriend should. Defending your boyfriend from an asshole definitely fits the bill. “I’m not going to stand by and let someone talk about you like that.” 

“So I definitely heard that right?” Dustin, if you remember correctly, stares at you two. “You two are dating? Since when?” He shrieks. 

You freeze for a second, you hadn’t thought that through. 

“For a few months now,” Eddie offers, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles on your waist. “Her parents are pretty strict," he rests his chin on your shoulder, humming in contemplation, "so we’ve been keeping it quiet for a bit. But, she was ready to go public with it.” 

“Slapping Carver in front of the whole cafeteria is pretty public,” Jeff laughs, “and pretty sick!” He offers his fist to you. 

You can’t help but laugh, feeling welcome at their table as you reciprocate the fist bump. It’s actually really nice. 

“My girl doesn’t mess around,” Eddie turns, kissing your neck. 

Maybe you two should’ve gone over some boundaries. Because that felt a lot better than it should’ve and you two aren’t even technically together. But then you remember that everyone is supposed to believe this so that Jason and your parents leave you alone. If even anyone suspects it’s not and word gets out that this isn’t real- you shiver at the very thought. And the way Eddie said ‘my girl’ sent a whole different kind of tremor down your spine. 

What have you gotten yourself into?

—

Somehow you managed to survive the first two weeks of publicly “dating” Eddie. Jason for the most part has left you alone and you haven’t seen or heard from your parents either. It’s so freeing. It makes you wish that you had stuck to your guns when you guys had moved out of the trailer park and kept Eddie in your life. Even listening to them and doing everything they wanted, they still turned around and did the worst thing imaginable. So what else could they have really done if you’d stuck by Eddie’s side the whole time? 

It’s too late to know now, but at least you can make up for the lost time by being here now. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind it. The dinners you share while Wayne is at work. The hasty breakfasts the three of you share in the mornings before school. The weekends though, the weekends are your favorite. Because unless Corroded Coffin has a gig, you and Eddie just hang out at the trailer together. 

“What did you wanna do today?” You ask, flopping down on the couch beside Eddie and throwing your legs on his lap. 

Rubbing your exposed calves, he purses his lips, “I was thinking I should probably take you on a date.” Eddie leans his head on the backrest of the couch to look at you. “You’ve been living here for two weeks now. While it’s all good and well that we’ve been annoying the living hell out of Jason at school, you know how people in this town love to gossip.” 

“Okay,” you draw out the word, furrowing your brows. Not really understanding why Eddie is willingly wanting to be with you romantically outside of school. That would make this feel real. You’d definitely feel like you were using him if you did that. 

“If people see us walking around town together, I’m sure word would get back to your parents.” Eddie pats your leg, “Jason isn’t the only one we’re supposed to be convincing, right?” 

He’s got a point. If your parents get a whiff of this relationship’s fallacies, they’ll drag you back home kicking and screaming. “What’d you have in mind?” You ask, warming up to the idea quickly. 

“There’s a double-feature of Nightmare on Elm Street at the theater tonight,” he shrugs, tracing shapeless designs on your skin. “We could do that and then walk around town with ice cream or some shit. That’s a couple-y thing to do, right?” 

You smile brightly, basking in his shyness. “That sounds really nice, Eds,’ you nudge him with your foot. “Most girls would swoon over a date like that. Well, they’d fight for some romantic movie. But I’m so down for Freddy. When does it start?” 

“About an hour.” 

“I’ll go get ready!” You hop up from the couch, practically running out of the living room, leaving Eddie chuckling on the couch. 

“Thank you,” you hear Eddie say, grabbing your ice cream cones from the girl behind the window of the cute little ice cream shop in town. “M’Lady,” he offers you your chocolate peanut butter scoops, holding his now free hand out for you to hold while you walk back to the van. He’d left it parked by the theater so you could have the whole ‘experience’ of a date. Eddie is just as serious as you are about making this seem real.

He’d even apologized to you for the neck kiss and you sitting in his lap. Explaining to you that he’s a pretty tactile person, that he’s only acting how he would if he was actually dating someone. He was adamant in you telling him if he makes you uncomfortable- he doesn't. Your heart throbbed painfully in your chest that you’re keeping some girl from being in an amazing relationship with such a sweet guy. Even more so when there’s an even worse pang at the thought that you don’t have this for real for yourself either. That this thing you have going with Eddie is fake. 

There’s this small part of you wondering if this could be real. 

“Thanks,” you smile, taking his hand, licking the creamy goodness. Eddie laughs a little at you while you’re walking and eating your desserts. “What?” You ask, licking your lips. 

“You got a little-” Eddie gestures towards your face. A group of girls walk past you arm in arm and Eddie smiles, “here, let me.” He leans in and kisses you, tongue brushing along your bottom lip for the smallest of seconds. Enough to send a shiver down your spine that certainly can’t be explained by the ice cream when his mouth is so warm. “Better,” he grins again, dragging his thumb from the corner of your mouth. 

There’s a blush violently burning your cheeks as you blink rapidly. You don’t even know what to say, so you turn your head, biting away a smile and reclaiming his hand to walk down the road again. “Thank you for tonight,” you say, tossing your napkin in the trash as you pass it. “It-” you pause, thinking you heard someone call your name. Shaking it off you try again, “it was really nice. So, thank you.” 

“Of course,” he drops your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. Kissing the side of your head, Eddie says, “I’m glad you had a good time. Enough people are out tonight so-”

“Y/N!” 

You definitely heard it that time. Eddie did too. Whipping around, you see your parents stalking their way towards the two of you. Speak of the devil, right? “Fuck,” you curse under your breath, anxiety stowing only just at the protective way Eddie tightens his hold around you. 

“Say the word and we run, okay?” He whispers in your ear, "I've got you." 

All you can do is nod as your parents come to a halt in front of you. Your father barely even looking at you, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Your mom on the other hand can’t decide who to set her daggers for eyes on, you or Eddie. 

“Mrs-”

“Don’t.” Your mother holds her finger up at him, “you don’t get to talk.”

“Excuse me?” You sputter out.

“And you,” she sets her fury on you now, “it’s time for you to come home young lady. Enough playing house with him,” you mom can’t even say his name, yet the word holds the same amount of venom. “This isn’t you. Please, just come home and all will be forgiven.” 

Anger boils inside of you. Not asking how you are or caring if you’re happy. Just more of them telling you that you’re ‘not yourself’ and you’re so over it. “Fuck that,” you snap. “I’m not going anywhere with you. My home is with Eddie. Yeah, he has a name, mom,” you lace the word with as much disdain as she’d offered him. Shocking her to her core not only from your language, but your behavior. Good. You finally feel like yourself.

“Then we’ll cut you off,” your dad’s stern voice cuts in. “See how long it takes you to come crawling back with no money.” 

“First of all,” you square your shoulders, “both Eddie and Wayne make money. Second,” you chuckle dryly, “you’re really going to love this. I went to the bank. I’m eighteen now in case you forgot. I transferred everything into my own account. That money is mine. But if it means more to you than your own daughter, I’ll gladly give it back. I can very easily get a job. I don’t need anything from you.” 

Your father puffs his chest, “listen here-”

“No, I think it’s time you listen,” Eddie cuts him off. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with her or how she chooses to live her life. She is fucking incredible! And there's definitely no thanks to you fucking assholes. She’s an adult and capable of making her own decisions. And unlike you, I’d never hurt her or force her to do something she doesn’t want to. You want to stay with me, right?” He looks over at you.

It’s rhetorical, you're almost certain. But you answer it anyway, “absolutely.” 

“There is it,” Eddie grins widely, opening his arms at your parents. “She’s made her choice.”

“Let’s get out of here,” you pull gently on Eddie’s jacket, trying to coax him away. Eddie death glares at your father, but starts moving with you, only turning once you’ve yanked a little harder. 

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Your father snaps, his hand grabbing your arm tight enough to hurt. 

You whip your head around to face him, seething, “let go of me.” Eddie looks furious, ready to punch him in the face and honestly, you’d probably let him. But that’s more of a scene than you’re willing to cause right now. You won’t let Eddie get in trouble over you. When your dad makes no move to let go of you, you say, “let me go or I’ll scream.” 

He drops your arm as though it’d burned him, whispering your name with hurt eyes. 

“Come on, princess,” Eddie’s arm curls back around your shoulders, keeping you close. No longer face to face with your parents, your chest tightens and your eyes burn. Not because you miss them, but all of your emotions have boiled over, demanding release through tears. “Wait just a minute more,” Eddie rubs his nose in your hair, “don’t give them the satisfaction.” He opens the passenger door for you and you crawl inside. 

The second he’s settled in his seat, the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry they said that to you,” you sob, chest constricting. 

“Why are you apologizing to me?” He stares at you wide eyed, speaking softly. “I should’ve punched him in the face for what he said to you, are you kidding?” Eddie reaches over, cupping your face and wiping your tears with his thumbs. “No one should talk about you like that. Especially not your parents.” 

“Can we just go home please?” You ask, hoping sheer willpower will make your tears cease. Your eyes already feel sore. 

“Of course,” he rubs your cheeks again, leaning closer to kiss your forehead. “Here,” Eddie pulls his leather jacket off, handing it to you, “you’re shaking.” 

You smile softly, sliding your arms through the sleeves, the scent of Eddie so close calming you down enough that the tears well up, but don’t fall. It’s one thing to defend Eddie from some dickhead jock like Jason. Watching him stand up for you to your own parents, treating you vastly better than they ever have? Heartwarming doesn’t even come close.

—

“Do you need anything?” Eddie asks after you’ve showered and are just sitting up in bed, he’s changed into sweats now and a faded Metallica shirt. 

“Not unless you have something that can make my mind be quiet long enough to let me sleep,” you answer, curling your legs to your chest and holding them. 

Eddie purses his lips, “I could roll us a joint,” he offers. “I usually smoke before going to sleep. It could help. Only if you want to.” 

“I’ve never smoked before,” you whisper, embarrassed by the fact that you’re ‘dating’ a drug dealer, yet have never done any yourself. “But I trust you,” you try to smile, but it falls flat. Still a little too upset over earlier. “I’m willing to try if you think it will help.” 

“Best sleep you’ve had in a while,” Eddie smiles, walking over to his dresser, grabbing a wooden box from the drawer. “Are you sure?” He asks one more time, sitting down beside you, “I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you or anything.” 

“You’re not,” your smile is genuine this time, “I’m sure.” You stare at his fingers while Eddie pinches the weed into the thin paper. If you weren’t so upset, your brain would probably short circuit at the way his tongue glides along the edge. That shouldn’t be allowed to look like that. 

After he takes two puffs of his own, he hands the joint to you, blowing the smoke out. “You might want to take small hits,” Eddie suggests when you bring the rolled paper to your lips. “Small hits,” he repeats, hopping up from the bed, “I’m gonna get us a drink real quick. Small,” Eddie enunciates. 

You don’t really know what’s considered a small hit, so you inhale maybe halfway, doing your best to hold the smoke in your lungs before letting it out. A cough bubbles in your chest that burns nearly as much as the weed. Eddie comes back just in time with a can of soda for you. Cracking it open with a fond smile on his lips, he tosses some snacks on the bed beside you. “Not as bad as I thought,” you say after taking a sip. You take another hit, handing it back to Eddie once he’s seated. 

“Are you going to be okay?” He asks, squinting around the smoke trying to go in his eyes. 

With a heavy sigh, you prop yourself on the wall beside the bed, “I think so? I’m not even sure why I cried to be honest. They suck and I don’t know why I expected them to react any differently than that. I’m more angry about the way they treated you.” You take the joint back from him, Eddie scooting over until your thighs and arms are pressed together. Pulling the smoke into your lungs, you appreciate it not burning as badly as the first time around. Enough to take a bigger hit, “this is definitely helping. So are you,” you whisper. 

Eddie nudges you with his arm, “happy to help. You’re my best friend and I’m always going to be here to take care of you. Until you get sick of me that is,” he teases.

Laughter bubbles in your chest, your cheeks hurting from how much you're smiling. Whether that’s the weed or just Eddie in general doesn’t really matter to you. “Aww,” you coo, absolutely certain that your newfound confidence is from the drug, “I don’t think I could get sick of you, Eddie.” You tell him, playing with a lock of his hair, surprised when he doesn’t tell you to stop. “I’m really grateful for everything you’re doing. And I meant it, I don’t expect you and Wayne to take care of me for free. I’ll get a job if it comes down to it.” 

“Please,” he snickers, handing the roach to you to finish off, “Wayne is overjoyed that you’re here.” Eddie wraps his arm around your shoulder and you tuck your head into his neck. “If there was mention of you leaving, he’d probably pay you to stay. He really did miss having you around. I think he secretly always wanted a daughter.” He takes the almost burnt paper and places it in the ashtray by the bed. 

“But he got the metal head outcast with a heart of gold instead,” you smile though he can’t see it. “Just-” you huff a small breath, “thank you, Eddie. For everything.” 

Eddie kisses the side of your head, “of course, princess.” Too high to care, you giggle at the name shooting warmth throughout your system, but it’s broken off with a loud yawn. “Looks like I’ve done my job,” he chuckles softly, “I’ll let you get some sleep.”

You lay down on the pillow, pulling the blanket over you, but when Eddie tries to get up, you reach out and grab his hand. “Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” He whispers, soft eyes looking over your tired face. 

“Could you-” you swallow the barrier in your throat in the form of nerves. “Will you stay with me? I don’t really want to be alone right now,” your voice barely above a whisper. 

Eddie smiles softly, his thumb brushing along your knuckles, “yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” He lets go of your hand so you can move over to give him some room to lay down beside you. The moment his back touches the bed, you curl up to him, resting your head on his chest. A contented sigh sounding off listening to his heartbeat in your ear, along with a dopey smile on your face. “Better?” He teases, though his arms wrap around you, one hand rubbing your back while the other plays with your hair. 

“Thank you,” you mumble, already falling asleep. 

—

Controlling your emotions seems to get harder and harder the longer this plays out. Having Eddie back in your life is honestly the best thing that’s ever happened to you. And you couldn’t be more grateful for him. Not just for having him as your best friend again. But over the last month and half, your heart thought it would be a really good idea to evacuate your chest and take home inside his. Graduation was supposed to be the light at the end of the tunnel. Now it just seems like an ominous deadline.

The day you lose Eddie. 

You’re far from ready for that. In fact, being with Eddie, actually being with Eddie, doesn’t seem like all that bad of an idea. But this was supposed to be temporary, even for him. How in the hell are you supposed to propose that? It’s not like Eddie has shown you any hint that he’d want this to be anything but an act. At home, he’s just your friend. Aside from getting high together, he sleeps on the couch so that you can have the bed. 

What you should be focusing on is the book in your hands while the group plays through their session. But your eyes keep trailing back to the head of the table. Eddie, Dungeon Master himself, sitting on his throne while having the time of his life. He truly is a novelty to watch like this. Carefree and enjoying himself. It’s amazing. 

“NO!” Dustin yells, startling Pet Semetery right out of your hands. 

Usually you’re better at not jumping from their antics, but the teen does not sound happy. Meanwhile Eddie is cackling and knocks a piece off the board. Flicking your eyes around the table, you notice it was the last piece standing aside from the one indicating the monster the group had been fighting. They lost. 

“Another ruthless, unbeatable campaign?” You muse, looking at your thrilled ‘boyfriend’ while everyone gathers their things to leave.

“Always, princess,” Eddie bounds over to you, leaning on the armrests of your chair, “always.” The doors close, leaving you two alone. “Don’t act like you didn’t help.” 

Narrowing your eyes playfully, you look up at him, “yeah, I thought they’d at least have a chance though.” 

“You’re far too devious for anyone to stand a chance,” Eddie closes the distance and kisses you. 

Instinct and pure want for him, you kiss back for a moment. Pulling away with immense effort, speaking with a small voice, “no one’s here, Eds,” you whisper. “You don’t have to act like you want to kiss me,” you say, trying to gauge how he might feel about the situation. He just kissed you after you both heard the doors close. But you also don’t want to get your hopes up too high either. That there could be a reality where Eddie wants to be with you for real too. 

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, his face unreadable, “you’re right. Sorry,” he clears his throat again, “let’s go home.” 

When you grab your book and stand up, Eddie heads for the door, keeping a step or two of distance between you. Is this just how he would act if you guys weren’t pretending to be together? Because when you’re alone, he’s not this cold. Silent. Or did what you say upset him?

Even when you make it to his van and he opens the door for you and you mutter, “thanks,” all Eddie does is offer a pinched smile. 

His silence continues the entire drive home. Eddie doesn’t even sing along to the music he plays. Nor does he drum his hands on the steering wheel. It’s putting you on edge and you want to say something so badly. But you also don’t want to risk actually pissing him off either. So, you follow his lead. Not saying a word while he drives you both home. 

Things don’t get much brighter from then on either. Eddie follows you into the bedroom, grabs his acoustic guitar, and goes right back into the living room. You are absolutely not going to sit in bed and cry about change in behavior. Not at all. You’re going to do it in the shower so there’s no chance of Eddie hearing you, like a smart person. 

Smart, right. 

If you were so smart you’d tell Eddie how you really feel. 

—

“Are you coming to band practice today?” Eddie asks you while you’re putting some mascara on in the bathroom. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” he scratches the back of his head, “the guys do love it when you come though.” 

“Just the guys?” The teased question spills from your lips before you’d even had a chance to filter them out. But it’s out in the air now.

Eddie grins for the smallest of seconds, “I like when you watch us too. You actually give us honest opinions. Will you come?” 

“Can you give me two more minutes?” You ask, waving the mascara brush around, “I’m almost done.” 

“Take your time,” he smiles, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, “I’ll be out in the van.” 

Quickly, you finish your makeup and go back into the room to get your shoes on. Not wanting to wear a bra, you find one of Eddie’s hoodies and throw it on over your thin shirt. You’ve never seen him wear it, but his spicy cologne rests on the fabric. You allow yourself a moment to bring to sleeves that barely let your fingers peek out of it to your nose to breathe him in. The cologne, the smoke, the very essence of Eddie. Pretending that his arms are wrapped around you instead of his clothes. 

Not wanting to take too long, you snatch the book off the bed and run out the trailer to meet Eddie in the van. 

You sit through the covers of Iron Maiden and Motley Crue while you read your book. They’re actually really good and you do enjoy listening to them. It’s always nice to see Eddie in his element. Happy and perfectly himself. It isn’t until he mentions something about playing a new one that you start to pay attention a little more. It’s different from what they usually play, and has to be an original because you don’t recognize it either and can’t imagine any other voice than Eddie’s singing it. 

Then the chorus hits, and they have your full attention.

“So if you wanna piss off your parents, date me to scare them, show them you’re all grown up,” Eddie sings, his words the night you ran to him echoing in your head alongside the lyrics. “If long hair and tattoos are what attract you, baby, then you’re in luck.” 

Eddie wrote a song about you. Eddie wrote a fucking song about you! But your eyebrows furrow, because it doesn’t sound all that nice, to be honest. Like he’s letting his frustration out through it. You told him you didn’t care about what your parents thought, assuming that was just the incentive for him going through with this.

“You know, I’m broke, so you pulled out your Daddy’s card,” he continues with the song. The memory of you two grocery shopping together flickering in your brain. 

You had wanted to make dinner for him one night as a thank you, but couldn’t find much in his kitchen. He’d told you Wayne didn’t get paid until the weekend and that all his money from dealing went to take out. You promptly dragged him to the store and bought enough food to stock the entire kitchen. Yes, you even made sure he- and you when you chose to partake- had plenty of munchies around too. 

“Should’ve seen this coming from a mile away,” Eddie hasn’t looked at you once the entire time he sings. The rest of the guys just seem to be jamming out. Except Gareth, his face starts to twist, something mixed with confusion and understanding, his drumsticks almost falter. “I’ll play your game. I know what you want from me.” 

But this- this isn’t a game to you. Eddie isn’t a game to you. In its bones, it’s a great song. But your eyes are burning. Blurring with tears as the song goes on. Every lyric a knife to your heart. 

“And I know it’s just a phase, you’re not in love with me,” Eddie finally looks at you as a tear falls from your eye. You quickly wipe it away, seeing the same pain reflected in his big, brown eyes. “And I know it’s just a phase, you’re not in love with me. You wanna piss off your parents, baby. Piss off your parents, that’s alright with me.” 

The song ends and you hastily wipe the rest of your tears away, ducking your head back into your book so the rest of the guys don’t notice them. It’s bad enough that Eddie saw them. You knew you should’ve said something to him last night when he kissed you. You fucking knew it. And now you’ve hurt him. Hurt Eddie enough that he wrote a song to express himself. You feel like the biggest jerk there is. 

—

Something told you that you needed to drive yourself to school today. Eddie didn’t question it. You guys had another silent night at home. Didn’t talk about the song or confess your love to him. But you did decide that you will be doing that today. You just needed to have a moment to sort the words in your head into cohesive sentences. 

Then lunch rolled around and Eddie mentioned he’d be meeting Jason in the woods after school to sell to him. That sounded really fucking weird to you, he just waved off your concerns. But you also heard about Chrissy buying from Eddie too, so you didn’t think anything of it if he didn’t either. It wasn’t until you were walking to your last class that you happened to pass Jason in the halls talking to his friends about how they were going to jump Eddie when they met up that it all made sense. 

Why you wanted to bring your car. Why the whole concept of Jason buying drugs didn’t sit right with you. You skipped your last class to wait near the spot they’d meet. Your baseball bat sitting in your passenger seat. You’re not about to just let Jason hurt Eddie. But you’re also not an idiot. You watch from your hiding spot while Eddie sits on the bench waiting for the unknown threat to show up. 

He can take care of himself against Jason, that’s been proven. But you don’t want to see what would happen if it was three or more guys. When Jason first shows up with three other guys whose names you could care less to remember, your nerves light up. Eddie’s too because he rises from the picnic bench with his arms raised. Grabbing your bat, you get out of the car, careful to stay out of view. 

Inching closer, Jason’s voice finally makes it through, “she’d never actually want to be with a freak like you. No way. She wants to be with me, just like her parents want her to. Maybe if you let her go, we won’t hurt you.” 

Yeah, fuck that. Clenching your hand around the bat, you step into view, “back off, Carver,” you command. Swaying the wood back and forth. “I warned you once already.” 

“Princess,” Eddie warns, but you don’t want to hear it. He might have pieced together why Jason is here, but you’re not backing down. Never again. Not since the moment you stepped foot in his trailer what feels like ages ago.

“Can’t you see he’s corrupting you? Just come with me so that I can take care of you,” Jason yells back, looking honest to god perplexed. “This isn’t you. He’s messing with your head.” 

“He’s letting me live!” You shout, tired of everyone trying to tell you what’s best for you. Like you’re incapable of figuring that out for yourself. One thing’s for certain, it isn’t fucking Jason. And it isn’t your fucking parents either. “He takes care of me better than anyone else ever has! Eddie makes me happy!” 

“Aww, princess,” Eddie coos softly, making your heart swell. 

“Don’t make me say it again, Carver,” you swing the back at your side again.

“Grab him!” Jason snaps and two of the guys grab each of Eddie’s arms, pinning them behind his back. You hadn’t even noticed they were getting closer to him, you were so focused on making sure Jason didn’t do something stupid. Eddie struggles in their grip, loosening their hold, only to be forced still. 

Looks like Jason did do something stupid afterall. “I warned you, Jason,” you spit, swinging the bat, hitting him in the face with a satisfying thwack. He stumbles to the dirt, clutching his split, bleeding cheek. The remaining jock, not holding Eddie, helps Jason to his feet. Whipping your head to the others, “let. Him. Go,” you growl while Eddie stares at you with literal heart eyes. The boys keep their hold, flicking their gaze to their captain who's whining. Good. “Fine,” you huff, swinging the bat again, connecting with one of their legs. 

Eddie stumbles as they release him, the one you’d hit falling to the forest floor, yelling in pain. His partner in crime helps him up and you aim your bat again, a crystal clear warning. One that even Jason pays attention to and all four jocks limp away. Once they’re out of view, the bat thumps to the ground and you face Eddie. 

“Are you crazy?” He asks, pulling you close, staring in your eyes waiting for an answer.

“Don’t ever tell me again that I don’t love you, Eddie Munson, do you understand me,” you rush out, crashing your lips to his. A soft moan combined with an absolute sigh of relief pushes past your lips when he holds you tighter, pulls you even closer, and returns the kiss. 

“Why would you do that?” He breaks the kiss, holding you by the small of your back. “Where did you even get a bat from?” 

“That dick led you out here just to jump you. I heard him in the halls. I wasn’t going to just let him,” you roll your eyes, brushing his bangs from his eyes. “I told you it felt weird.” 

“And the bat?” Eddie repeats, looking where it's laying on the ground. 

“I’m a girl in a small town,” you state like it should be obvious. “It’s called self defense.” 

He snorts, “hot.” You playfully punch his chest, making him laugh. He quickly grabs your hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss our knuckles. “So, I make you happy, huh?” Eddie grins slyly, cocking an eyebrow at you. 

“Very,” you smile back, leaning in to kiss him again. Hard. Pressing into him until he’s backed against a tree, groaning into your mouth. “I’ve been wanting to tell you for weeks,” you admit, pulling at his bottom lip with your teeth. Lovingly swiping it with your tongue at his hiss from the action. 

Suddenly your back is against the tree and Eddie’s hips are digging into yours, the bulge in his jeans leaving nothing to the imagination as to whether or not he’s believing and enjoying your words. “I told you I wanted to marry you when we were kids,” he rasps in the small space between your mouths. “You coming to me soaked and asking for help, even as a ploy I’d accept it if it meant you being in my life again. I never stopped wanting you, princess. Ever.” 

“Good,” you reply, claiming his mouth again, Eddie’s hands gripping your hips. You moan when he kisses down your neck, biting at the crook and your eyes roll back. “Eddie,” you whine, trying to spread your legs for more friction. He shifts, his thigh pressing between your legs, rubbing beautifully against your clothed pussy. It’s not enough and you whine again, “Eddie, please.” Every pent up feeling you’ve had for the last month ready to burst at the seams. 

He chuckles against what’s surely a purple mark on your neck, “right here?” Eddie teases, licking your abused flesh, nipping his way back up. “Can’t let me take you home first?”

“No,” you say once his blown, brown eyes fall on your face, “I can’t. I need you, Eddie, please,” you gasp. Breathing becomes harder the longer his thigh digs into you, sparking flames deep in your core. 

“Right here in the woods, huh?” He asks, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. “Maybe Jason was right,” Eddie chuckles, cupping you where it aches, “maybe I did corrupt you.” 

“Good,” you moan, grinding against his hand, “I’m yours to corrupt, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes darken further, pupils widening and getting hazy, “that’s my girl.” His fingers undo your button and zipper before yanking you to him, pulling you back towards the picnic table. Pushing you down face first onto the wooden surface, he drags your pants and underwear down in one swift motion. “Look at you,” he tries to coo, but it’s so full of lust that it’s raspy and thick, “so wet for me already, princess.” Eddie kisses your spine, making you shiver, “last chance,” his hands rub your ass. 

“Please,” you croak, eyes burning, needing him inside of you right now. Groaning a guttural, “fuck,” when his tongue dips inside your dripping cunt. “Eddie,” you gasp, him eating you out better than you’ve ever felt before. The long licks and the way he pushes his tongue as far as it will go to tease at your clit. It’s intoxicating and before you can beg for more, two fingers push inside you and you keen. Hips bucking at the pressure against the bundle of nerves deep inside. 

Your moans turn to a mewl, Eddie nipping at the back of your thighs, his hand cracking over your ass. The sting shoots white hot jolts of electricity through you, an orgasm beginning to warm you from the inside out at a startling rate. Kissing your ass, you feel Eddie smile, “you taste so fucking good princess. So fucking good. God,” he groans, “and you’re all fucking mine. Aren’t you?” His fingers move faster and all you can do is moan and nod, thighs shaking with the need to come. “Aren’t you?” Eddie repeats with another slap to your ass, wanting an actual answer. 

Like he isn’t taking away your ability to form proper thoughts let alone understandable words. Huffing your breath, trying desperately to speak, “y-yes, yours,” your gasp, his tongue joining his fingers, flying you over the edge. Wave after beautiful wave slamming into you in quick succession. Had Eddie not had his fingers inside of you, you’d have slumped right off the table. “I’m yours, Eddie,” you groan when he removes his fingers, half hearing him undo his own belt and the slide of his pants. 

“Good girl,” he soothes the spot he’d smacked with loving strokes of his palm, spitting into his other hand. A whine escapes your lips feeling the head of his cock glide against your pussy. “Ready, princess?” Eddie asks, tapping your cunt with his dick. You think you say yes, you’re almost certain the word came out of your mouth. All you really care about is that Eddie heard your consent and his dick slams into you completely. “Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” 

A groan shifts to a whine when he slowly drags himself out of you to the tip, sliding back at the same pace. “Eddie,” you whine again, trying to push your hips back to make him move faster. The heat in your core burns at a dizzying rate from the surprising intensity of the leisurely roll of his hips. But his grip on you is sure, you’re completely at his mercy.

“Look at that,” he gasps out, doing it over and over. You can only imagine that he’s just watching himself disappear inside of you and enjoying it immensely. “So pretty,” Eddie moans, thrusting harder, but only just. Still pulling out till just the tip of his cock is left inside you and ramming himself forward. The pace punches moans from your chest and has your eyes roll back with every deliberate jab to that sweet spot. 

“Ed- fuck!” You cry out, his control of teasing you or keeping up with his own pleasure snaps along with his hips. Eddie holds your hips hard and rails into you harder. Thrusting with abandon and the coil inside of you winds tightly. Threatening to break at any given moment. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moan repeatedly, eyes blurring with lust. 

Eddie fists his hand in the back of your hair, yanking you up to his chest, “that’s right, let it all out, princess.” He wraps a hand around your middle, trailing his fingers down to circle around your clit. “I wanna hear how good I make you feel,” Eddie bites at your neck, sucking what has to be a constellation of marks on your skin, his thrusts not once faltering. “Come for me, pretty girl.” 

His words, his hands, his cock, him. Eddie flies you right over the edge of your orgasm. The coil snapping so hard you feel your pussy spasm around him and do something it’s never done before, even when you’ve played with yourself. You cry out, screaming a moaned, “Eddie,” as your cunt gushes around him. A tear falls from your eye, overwhelmed with sensation but Eddie holds you close, keeping you grounded with an orgasm infused smile on your face. 

He doesn’t gentle you through it, his fingers never ceasing their toying with your clit, “you’re gonna come for me again,” Eddie moans in your ear. You’re nearly overstimulated, but oh so addicted to the feeling of his dick inside of you that you couldn’t care less. You’d come as many times as he’d get you to. “Then I’m gonna come inside my pussy, understand?” 

“Please, please Eddie, fuck,” you moan, your cunt clenching around him with a vice grip. You want to meet his thrusts, but you’re too lost in the perfect pace he’s set that you hadn’t even noticed the all too familiar tingle creeping up on you. Thighs shaking, you hold his arm, the hand in your hair snaking around to a light hold on your throat. Another grunted moan in your ear from Eddie is all it took for you to fall apart again. A breathless scream as your pussy squirts around his cock once more. 

“That’s my girl,” Eddie’s grip tightens around your throat. His fingers finally leave your sensitive clit alone to hold you steady, thrusting a few more times until he shoves himself inside. Eddie lets out a moan, spilling himself deep inside, warming you from the inside out. “Fucking hell, I love you,” he pants, peppering your neck with sweet kisses. He carefully helps you back onto the table top, your hands propping you because your legs are far from stable. 

Your mind is blissfully quiet, only caring about being in the moment with Eddie. You’ll deal with the thought of doing this in the middle of the woods later. Right now, you just want him. Eddie pulls out from your sore pussy as gently as he can and gingerly pulls your pants back up. Kind of pointless considering they’re pretty much instantly soaked from his come leaking out of you. But that’s okay too, you like the feeling. You turn to face him, finding he’s already got his pants pulled up too. 

Reaching out to hug him, Eddie does you one better, scooping you up into his arms in a bridal carry. “You okay, princess?” He asks, kissing the top of your head when you tuck into his neck. 

“I’m okay. Some water would be great right now though,” you mumble, the pure scent of Eddie mixing with the woods around you is better than any aromatherapy out there. “And food. God, and a bath.” 

Eddie chuckles, bending to grab your bat from the ground, “good thing I have a cooler and some snacks in the van. Think that’ll be enough till we get home and I can make you something?” 

“‘S perfect, Eds,” you smile against his skin, curling your fingers in the ends of his hair as he carries you to his van. “Will my car be okay?” 

“I’ll have Gareth or Jeff come get it for you.” Eddie stops in his tracks, “uh,” he chuckles. “Do we need to stop at the pharmacy?” 

Lifting your tired head, you ask, ”why,” heavy lidded eyes barely focusing on him. 

“We didn’t use a condom,” he states, “and I definitely didn’t pull out.” 

You laugh, thumping your head back into his neck, “Eddie, my parents controlled every aspect of my life, you really think they wouldn’t put me on the pill?” You resume playing with his hair and he begins walking again. “I would’ve stopped you otherwise,” tugging his hair lightly you giggle, “it’s more than okay, Eddie. Just get me home so we can eat and take a bath together.”

“Coming right up, princess,” his smile is evident in his tone and he kisses your hair again. 

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it’s canon eddie is roughly 20/21 years old, since you graduate at 18 and he was he’s back twice so he’d definitely be in his early twenties. it’s a typo and you can spot these a lot around season 4 cuz honestly i think the props team was lazy or wasn’t given enough to work with. the last two episodes the duffer brothers wrote themselves with no help

that being said chrissy is 16/17 so i immediately am uncomfortable with anyone who romantically ships eddie and her

i 100% agree with you on that. i will never interact with a chrissy x eddie shipper, very sus behavior to me.

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st 4 spoilers //

me editing dustin and eddie to a house in nebraska and making myself SOBBBB