summary: stiles never expected you to be the one to suggest it, but he's pretty sure you've just changed his life
wc: ~1.5k
cw: MDNI!! m!receiving oral, descriptions of gagging, spit (like the body fluid), swallowing (like... well y'know). written to be gender neutral reader, though their hair is described as long enough for him to hold
masterlist, taglist, and kinktober 2025 masterlist!
"can i give you a blowjob?"
stiles had never been asked a more stupid question in his entire life. still, it took him aback, and his cheeks were splotched with maroon embarrassment as he stared at you with blown pupils.
"what kind of fucking question is that? can you-you... yeah! yes, yeah, you definitely can!" you tried not to laugh at his reaction, closing the textbook you had splayed out on his pillow. stiles followed suit, immediately shoving everything in sight off the bed.
"w-why do you ask? or- i mean, i know why you asked, consent is super sexy, but why, why the sudden... interest?" his cringed expression reflected in his tone as he choked out the rest of his question, regretting ever saying anything other than "YES!!".
you gave him a bashful smile, standing from the bed and ushering him to the edge. stiles tripped over himself as he scrambled to get to you, earning a laugh for his eagerness.
"i... i wanted to try something, if you'd be into it." your voice was quiet as you spoke, hesitant to hear his reaction.
stiles nodded quickly and hung from your every word as you slowly parted his legs and wedged yourself between them. your hands trailed up and down his thighs, goosebumps under his skin chasing your fingertips, light as a feather to tease him in the anticipation of what you had to say.
"i really want you to fuck my throat. but... i-i think it will take a bit of practice to build up to that, y'know? so do you think i could... practice that? taking you all the way?"
it took stiles every ounce of self-control in his body to not cum on the spot. all he could do was nod again as his mouth hung agape and his eyes stared at you in awe.
you were pretty sure you'd just broken stiles stilinski.
"babe? i'm gonna need a real response. consent is sexy, yeah?" nerves shook your voice, and stiles had absolutely no idea how you could think he would say no right now.
"yes, please," he moaned. leaning forward to kiss you, stiles continued to groan into your mouth, hungry lips nipping at yours as you fumbled with his zipper.
"god, i can't believe how hot you are." stiles breathed as he helped you take his bottoms off, boxers and all in one go.
he was already so hard, red tip leaking precum and begging for the warmth of your mouth. you smirked at how turned on the conversation alone had made him, nerves in your stomach transforming into butterflies as you sank to your knees in front of him.
you took his cock in your hand, wrapping gently around the base and giving a slight tug. you were rewarded with a soft whine falling from stiles' lips as he gathered your hair up for you, the look of awe never once leaving his face.
"just d-dont... hurt yourself, y'know. choke, or whatever."
you gave him a smirk and another tug. "that's kinda the point, isn't it?"
his groan in response was only amplified when you put him in your mouth, tongue swirling around his tip as you got used to the feeling of him in your mouth. so far, you hadn't done anything new, but stiles was melting under your every touch. your mouth was hot and wet, and he was already struggling to hold out.
you took a deep breath in preparation as you widened your jaw and began to sink lower on his cock, stiles' moans flooding your ears as you concentrated. the feeling was a bit uncomfortable as he grew closer to the back of your throat, but it felt good at the same time. you could feel him pulsing and twitching against your tongue, and it only spurred you on further.
it was too much too quick though, as you ambitiously attempted to take him all at once. you gagged, earning one of the sexiest moans you'd ever heard fall from stiles' lips before he immediately pulled you off.
"o-oh my god, are you okay?"
you nodded, though you were fighting to catch your breath as trails of spit hung from your panting mouth. "i'm okay, i just need a second."
stiles craddled your jaw in both hands, worry present in his features. "we're done. no way you're doing that again."
"sti, come on. i'm fine, really. you're gonna sit there and tell me that didn't feel good?"
stiles went silent, embarrassment tingeing his ears as though he'd been caught. you gave him a smirk before wrapping your hand around his base again, instantly causing him to shake underneath your touch.
"good boy."
and just like that, you had stiles back exactly where you wanted him.
taking him once again, you started slowly and kept reminding yourself to breathe through your nose. it felt less foreign this time, and you now held him in your mouth as you got used to the feeling how just how big he was.
stiles' hands snaked their way around you, trembling in your hair as you held him still in your mouth. "o-oh, fuck. oh that's good, baby, fuck."
you hadn't yet moved, and stiles squirmed underneath you as you swallowed around his cock, his tip bumping the back of your throat as he tried his best to not buck his hips up into you.
you lifted up from him with a pop!, heavily breathing as you met his glossy eyes. "y'good?"
"h-holy shit," stiles whimpered, immediately gripping a fistful of your now-tangled hair. "more. more, please."
with a deep inhale and newfound confidence, you took every inch of his cock into your mouth, feeling his tip throbbing in the back of your throat. stiles cried out in pleasure as he shook underneath you, tears welling in his eyes as you began to gag around him.
he tried to pull you off, but you fought it, keeping all of him deep down your throat and breathing through the uncomfortable feeling. you choke once, twice, and the groan from low in his chest was enough for you to keep it together and continue to suck him off.
you began to move as you normally would, hollowing your cheeks and sliding up and down his length, though this time, going much farther than you ever had before. stiles was a wreck at the feeling of your mouth, loud and incoherent as you gave him the best blowjob he was sure to ever have.
he tried to hold out, he really did. stiles wanted nothing more for this feeling to last forever. but the second you reached down to grab a handful of his balls, there was nothing he could do to stop it.
stiles came hard, thick spurts of his cum flowing down the back of your throat as he held your head down all the way to the base one last time. you started to gag again, and this time, instead of pulling you back right away, he held you there, and it only intensified his orgasm as he rode out the high feeling your throat spasm around him.
he pulled out quickly, eyes wide and fixed on you as you both fought to catch your breath. "o-oh my god, are you okay?"
you coughed a bit, face burning red as your lungs fought to catch up. stiles' hands found your hair again, though this time with caution, brushing it from your eyes and doing his best to soothe you.
"i'm so fucking sorry. holy shit, we are never doing that again."
you looked up at him like he'd suddenly grown eight eyes, grabbing his hands and locking them with yours. "what? stiles, i think that was one of the hottest things we've ever done."
his softening dick twitched at your words, giving away his true feelings on the entire event. still, stiles wasn't about to play with your safety and comfort, even if you were right.
"are you kidding me? i-i hurt you, we are not-"
"stiles, i'm fine. really, that was exactly what i wanted." you reassured him.
"really? you wanted to choke on my dick?"
"yes."
stiles stared at you with wide eyes, and he was immediately getting hard again. "well fuck."
eddie will have a cameo in vol 2 eddie will have a cameo in vol 2 eddie will have a cameo in vol 2 eddie will have a cameo in vol 2 eddie will have a cameo in vol 2 eddie will have a cameo in vol 2 eddie will have a cameo in vol 2 eddie will have a cameo in vol 2 eddie will have a cameo in vol 2 eddie will have a cameo in vol 2 eddie will have a cameo in vol 2 eddie will have a cameo in vol 2 eddie will have a cameo in vol 2 eddie will have a cameo in vol 2
warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (fem. receiving), use of petnames, cheating, phone sex (kinda), slight use of "daddy", choking, multiple orgasms, protective eddie with his fuck buddy
pairing: eddie munson x female (afab) reader
summary: your boyfriend steve cheats on you all the time. your vengeance comes in the form of eddie, who you're secretly hooking up with. when the phone rings during one of your sneaky sessions, a three-way call might be the way stevie finally finds out...[6.8k]
—inspired by "scotty doesn't know" by lustra—
a/n: i had this idea while listening to this song and HAD to write it. this is one of my first times writing smut, i'm still practicing! enjoy ♡
Your boyfriend Steve couldn't help but be a douche sometimes. Most times, actually.
You should have known dating Hawkins' most infamous ladies man might be problematic before you even started. His stupidly perfect hair and ability to smooth talk made you believe he might be different with you.
The first time you caught him with another girl, you didn't want to believe it. And because you were naïve and try to see the best in people, you stayed with him.
Unfortunately for you, there was a next girl. And another. And then another one after that. The cheating reached a point where you almost expected it to happen and even grew apathetic to it.
You stayed with Steve out of fear of being alone, and because that's all you knew how to do. That was until you became acquainted with the notoriously odd and intimidating Eddie Munson.
It started one night when you were buying weed from him. He'd told you to come by the trailer he lives in, claiming that he kept his "good stuff" there. You were surprised to find out how funny and kind the older male was.
He was a total flirt, making you smile and laugh in ways that King Steve never even came close to. That's how smoking a joint with him turned into the best sex you ever had, each having an earth-shattering orgasm on his stained mattress.
That one-time thing turned into a routine, squeezing in a quickie any chance you got. His place, yours, his van in the school parking lot, under the bleachers...
You and Eddie were addicted to each other, drawn together like magnets. The connection only got stronger the more time you spent together. He made you feel more than just physical pleasure...he made you comfortable.
After a shitty day, you went by the tattooed male's place hoping to forget your troubles. You ended up crying in his arms and telling him about everything on your mind. Eddie cared, he really cared about you.
That's why his blood was boiling when you told him about Steve. He could never believe that the douchey brunette got to have you, the coolest girl in town; hearing how he was treating you made him want to "rearrange Steve's face".
Slowly, you became more than just fuck buddies. It was a complicated situation, especially with how passionate the sex got at some points. Fingers laced together, longing gazes into each other's eyes, tender kisses, and sweet nothings.
You felt guilty for cheating on Steve even though he had been doing worse to you for about a year. Eddie encouraged you, never letting you feel bad about it. And how could you argue when he was inches deep inside you, calling you pretty and making you feel amazing?
He was doing exactly that now, thrusting in and out of your sopping cunt as he knelt behind you. Your upper body was limp against the bed, back arching as Eddie held your hips up. He gave your ass a firm smack, watching the recoil with a groan.
"Mmn, fuck, Eds," you moaned, face down in your pillows. The laud only spurred him on, encouraged him to pull you back against his fat cock.
"Yeah? You love being fucked like this, baby?" he grunted deep from his chest. The pet name made your walls clench around him like they always do. It drives Eddie crazy.
The slapping of your skin together halts when he pulls your ass flush with his hips, making the bulging tip of his dick push the soft spot inside you. You whimpered and reached back, searching for somewhere to hold on. Your sweaty hand found Eddie's forearm and you squeezed it firmly when he started gyrating.
The rolling motion he's making with his hips allowed him to fuck you insanely deep without ever leaving your pussy. His ringed hand slid down beneath you to your clit, three calloused fingers working it perfectly as he's done thousands of times.
"Oh my god," you pant, feeling a warmth tingle in your lower abdomen. "'M gonna cum. P-please, please."
The sound of you begging even though Eddie always gives you what you want made him chuckle darkly. He pulled out his dick merely a couple of inches, looking down at where you were swallowing him in. A creamy ring surrounded the base of his length, a sight that made him twitch as he pushed all the way back in to continue his motion.
Just as your whining picked up and you were about to cum, your phone rang loudly on the bedside table. Eddie's hand on your clit stopped and he slowed his thrusts as you groaned, annoyed.
"Does that asshole have to ruin everything for me?!" you bitched, already knowing it was your shitty boyfriend. You pushed your ass back, hoping to fuck yourself on Eddie although your climax was already ruined by the shrill ringing. "He can wait."
The curly-haired boy watched the part of your face he could see, laying against the pillow with reddened cheeks. He read the frustration on your face and bent down to kiss your shoulder blade. His hand slithered up your body, pinching at your hardened nipple.
He hummed a pleased noise when you clamped down around his length. When he was about to start back up, the phone sounded again.
"Oh my fucking god," you hissed, reaching to unplug it from the wall.
Eddie took hold of your bicep, stopping you. When you looked back, the expression on his face was one of deviance. He smirked from beneath his dark, fringed bangs and your heart sank.
"Answer it."
"What?" You couldn't believe what he'd said.
"Pick up the phone," he began, and his voice took on a devilish tone. "Have a conversation with your boyfriend."
"That's it?" you questioned. "No catch."
"Only one. I want you to be quiet. Don't give it away."
"Give wha-" Your words were snatched away when Eddie pulled his dick out with a wet schlick, plunging two fingers in as the replacement.
A high-pitched scream tore through your throat as he began to fuck you filthily with his digits. They weren't as thick as his cock, but the ferocity of his movements made you require a moment to recover.
"Pick up the phone and talk, sweetheart," he spoke with a steady voice, a talent of his you were consistently amazed by. He brought his face down to kiss the plush area around your ass and hips. When you didn't grab the telephone fast enough for his liking, he brought his teeth down on the skin.
You squealed, biting your lip and regaining your composure as you lifted the phone to your ear.
"Hello?" You swallowed thickly, hearing your heartbeat thundering in your ears.
"Hey, babe. Sorry I forgot to call yesterday." You rolled your eyes at Steve's lie. "What are you up to?"
"Me? Oh, nothing much, just-"
Eddie began to scissor his fingers inside you. His lips pressed to the unoccupied area of your slick sex, lapping up the juices as quietly as he could. Your free hand slammed onto the mattress on its own accord, grabbing a handful of the floral sheets for purchase.
"Talk, baby," Eddie breathed against your core. He licked a stripe up your fold and blew on it before introducing a third finger in your swollen hole. You pulled the phone away temporarily to whine.
"Just watching some TV and working on homework," you lied, letting the words out a little too quickly.
"Oh, that sounds fun." Steve's totally not listening to you. "I saw that 'Risky Business' is playing at the drive-in this weekend."
"Cool. That's the one with Tom Cruise?"
Eddie chuckled when you squirm as he removed his fingers, creating a sinful noise. He saw the way your thighs were shaking and pushed your hips down to level you flat on the bed. He hovered over you, caging you beneath him as he moved his face to where you could see him.
You met his eyes that were hooded with a teasing hunger you can't stand. He sucked on the fingers that were just inside you, cleaning your slick off as he moaned quietly enough that Steve didn't hear.
"Yeah, that one," Steve's voice sounded, though it's impossible to focus on anything but Eddie.
"I was thinking we could go see it. It'd be like old times."
As Steve started to detail the date, Eddie crawled back down to part your legs with his large hands. You brought your hand from the sheets to your mouth, covering it as his plump lips start to kiss their way up the insides of your thighs.
"We could park in the back, bring some booze..." Steve's voice rambled on as Eddie's lips finally connect where you want him most.
He began to eat you out from behind, sucking and swirling his tongue in combinations that had you grinding yourself on the mattress, desperate for some more friction. Your mind went blank when he flattened his long tongue on your clit.
"Are you listening to me?" Steve snapped.
"Y-yes. I'm listening," you struggled to respond back. "Go ahead."
Hearing this makes Eddie laugh, vibrating against your dripping cunt. The sensation shot you closer to your orgasm and he could tell from the way your hole gaped around nothing.
"Pretty pussy," he spoke against it, though you can barely hear him. "Needy for her daddy, huh? So naughty. Gonna cum on my tongue while she talks to her boyfriend."
You caught the last part and made a fist, biting down as Eddie prodded his long tongue into your slit. And because he's greedy and wants to taste your orgasm, his thumb skillfully circled your clit.
"No one can see us so we don't really need to watch the movie..." Steve chuckled and you would surely roll your eyes if they weren't already back in your skull from Eddie's ruthless assault on your pussy.
"Sounds like you just wanna get in my pants, Stevie," you shot back, voice steadier than it had been because he was really bothering you. This made Eddie growl an animalistic sound.
He knows he shouldn't be jealous, but he is. Especially now when he's buried in your cunt, the one you've told him he owns so many times before. He knows Steve can't make you feel half as good as he does, can't fuck you the way he does, can't love you the way he does.
With a final slurping sound, he abandoned the idea of pulling an orgasm out with his mouth. He lost all self-control; he needed to be as deep as you can take him rightfuckingnow. You barely had time to register the fact that he stopped licking you before he roughly tugged your ass back up in the air.
"I didn't mean it like that, I just...We haven't gone past second base in forever." Steve's ridiculous words were drowned out when Eddie slammed back into your pussy.
It welcomed him, wet and stretched out from everything he'd given you so far. He faced hardly any resistance stuffing his generous length all the way to the end of you. The backs of your thighs smack his pelvis as he started to drill into you with an unforgiving pace.
You screamed, loud and high-pitched into the receiver. Your upper body sank and you attempted to hold yourself up on your elbows. This only added to the pleasure as your blushed nipples rubbed the cotton sheets, tits bouncing with every thrust.
"Babe? What was that?" Steve stopped mid-sentence to question you.
It was a challenge trying to straighten out your thoughts when you could feel Eddie in your throat. He's hitting such a delicious angle, one that prods the spongey end of you so forcefully it's teetering on the edge of pain.
"N-no..." you stuttered, holding out the vowel as you fail to soothe your boyfriend's suspicion. "Nothing. Something f-fell off the shelf and scared me."
The words came out rushed, all weaved together in one single breath. Each time the metalhead thrust in and out, he stole away your oxygen. His large, rough hands squeezed onto the fat of your thighs to pull you against him. His thick cock was splitting you apart, emptying and filling you to bust at the seams at a frantic speed.
A dark chuckle spilled from the plump lips of the male behind you and he could still taste you on his tongue. The realization made him groan, dropping his head back as sweaty tendrils of cocoa hair tickled the backs of his shoulders.
Without warning, he slowed suddenly. You were about to whine at him before Steve's droning voice on the phone reminded you of the secrecy you were beginning to fail at maintaining.
The metal of Eddie's rings bit your skin when he squeezed firmly on your left hip. This was one of his signals for when he wanted to switch positions or have you take over.
He was able to guide you without words, your heated body pliant beneath his dominant touch. His cock never left your pulsating core as he relaxed his position back, kneeling on the mattress.
Your legs bent around his as you sat back against his lap. His chest pressed flush against the curve of your spine as you wriggled, adjusting your seating. The position would allow you to reverse ride him using the strength of your thighs.
The curled cord of the phone was stretched out to reach where you were. The douchey brunette on the other line was telling a story about some party he and Tommy had gone to, laughing at his own words as he recalled the memory and tried to omit the parts about him hooking up with other girls.
Eddie's one hand settled against your hip while the other smoothed its way up your side. It started at the soft pooch of your tummy, up to your heavy tits to tweak the hardened peaks, and finally to a gentle grip on your neck. His long fingertips reached up to tilt your chin forward as he clamped around the thundering veins near your throat.
As you breathed a strangled gasp under his touch, he forced you to look up where the reflection of you two stared back in the mirror atop your dresser. The sight of his hand of rings wrapped around your neck as you were seated on his cock made you moan, a noise that was cut short by the pressure from his choking.
You weren't sure who looked more fucked out, you or him. Usually, Eddie was great at keeping his composure, but the look he had in his eyes when you met them in the mirror was...feral. Rabid, exhausted, lustful, on the brink of losing it.
He took in the sinful sight of you. The way your head was hanging limply on his shoulder, drool glistening at the corner of your lips from the aggressive pounding you'd just taken. Your grip on the telephone was weak, leaving it to slide low on your neck as your sweaty hand could barely stay up.
"Come on, pretty," he rasped hotly in your ear. "Take what you need from me."
With a breath in for preparation, you lifted yourself up slowly. As you hollowed out, your cunt drooled down every inch of him and onto his balls, heavy and wound tight with his impending release. You cried out when you dropped your ass back down, spearing his bulging tip into your guts.
You began a steady pace, bouncing yourself on his dick and swallowing the whimpers that came when he stretched your hole continually. Eddie thrust his hips upward to meet your movement. This only wedged him deeper into your sex, nudging your uterus and launching you toward climax.
Steve was ranting about how much he loved having a pretty girlfriend and that he'd make it up to you for how busy he's been lately. You pulled the phone away, clamping a hand over the lower speaker as you switched to gyrating your hips in circular motions.
"F-fuck, Eddie. So good, so, so..." you babbled.
His rugged hand clamped over your mouth, silencing the pornographic noises you were making. On your neck, his hot mouth sucked and nipped.
"Gotta stay quiet, sweets. Pick up the phone and keep talking," he ordered.
"But, da-"
"Don't be a brat," he barked. A particularly sharp thrust upward punched the air from your lungs. "Don't you wanna be good for me? Want me to let you cum?"
You nodded with such vigor Eddie thought it must've hurt your neck. He removed his hand from your mouth and smacked a wet kiss onto your temple.
"That's my girl."
Your cunt fluttered around him, giving you away. You loved how possessive he could get and he knew it. Maybe it was because he cared and wanted you to be his...that was more than your actual boyfriend ever did.
Taking a deep breath in, you brought the phone back up to your ear to find Steve finishing up his ridiculous ramble.
"How are you gonna make it up to me, big boy?" you uttered, exerting all your effort to sound natural.
The tattooed male grunted beneath you and encased both your hips with his large hands. He used his strength to lift you up and drop you back down on his fat cock. It was a challenge keeping the sound of slapping skin to a minimum, especially when his brain was this fuzzy.
His dark eyes kept darting between the mirror and his lap. One allowed him to watch himself pumping in and out, your cunt stretched wide around his girth and soaking down to the coiled tufts of hair at his base. Your ass jiggled each time and the skin reddened from the roughness.
The mirror was his favorite view: you, coming undone from how incredible he was making you feel. Your body was littered with love bites, places he'd nipped at for hours that evening. The sight of your breasts, full and flushed as they swayed with the motions, was making him lose it.
When he ever looked at your pretty face, Eddie had to tighten the muscles of his abdomen to hold off his orgasm.
Your head was lolled back into the crook of his shoulder. Sweat-damp wisps of hair were glued to the sides of your pink cheeks. Your eyebrows were knit together, creased in the middle as you worked to stay quiet. Saliva glistened where it trailed down from your swollen lips, stuck open with small breathy pants.
He needed to make you cum now because it was growing impossible for him not to.
Steve was spewing some bullshit about flowers and taking you to Enzo's for dinner. You nearly laughed thinking about how the last time he did that, he flirted with the waitress and ogled at her ass right in front of you. It blended into white noise when Eddie increased his efforts.
He leaned back slightly, the sticky skin of his chest leaving your back to allow a needed swath of cool air. Two calloused fingertips pressed to your sensitive nub and begin to play you like his most prized guitar. That alone was pushing your stimulation to the brink of exploding, but he wasn't done yet.
The lanky male returned to thrusting upward into you again with more fervor this time. Rather than just stroke straight up, he used his hips to direct himself in different directions, at multiple angles.
His massive cock pioneered its way into places you'd never felt him before. You could feel the thundering of his veins as he stretched out new channels in your pussy.
"H-hmn," you bit down on moans. "Mmn, hngh."
It didn't take much more for you to lose yourself. The band in your stomach that had been pulled taught since before the phone even rang finally snapped. A pathetic whine rose from your chest as your body quivered, seizing up and then falling limp.
"Oh, fuck," Eddie spat, about to come undone himself. His throat choked up as he continued to ram upward, quickly chasing his own orgasm as you became a rag-doll in his lap.
Your juices trickled down his skin as he pumped into you a few more times. His whimpering blended with your heavy-breathed panting as he came deep inside your cunt.
The sound of his ragged moans and sharp cussing was almost inaudible over the ringing in your ears. When you came back down to earth, he'd already recovered from his climax.
"Shh-shh," Eddie soothed. Your slit throbbed as the milky mess you two made warmed where you remain connected. He pulled your back flush to his inked chest. "Took me so well, honey. I've got you."
The bad boy being that sweet to you though he fucked you so ruthlessly made you melt into his touch. Your eyes drooped and a single tear streamed down. The sensation inside your chest was red-hot, passionate; deeper than something you should be feeling for your fuck buddy...
Coming had caused such a blackout in your mind that you didn't register Steve speaking to you until he shouted through the phone.
"Hello?! Did you hear what I said?"
"S-sorry." You struggled to hide the exhaustion in your voice. "What?"
"What the hell was that noise? Are you watching porn or something?" he pushed, clearly irritated.
You weren't sure what to say...he had definitely heard your keening as you came, probably Eddie too. Would he be dumb enough to believe a lie?
"It's just the TV. Some overdone sex scene, I dunno," you responded.
Eddie wrapped his strong arms around you to help you relax against him, giving your worn-out body a rest. Your abused cunt fluttered upon feeling his warm release spilling out around his softened length.
"Oh. Okay. Well, turn it down," Steve requested. Wow, he is dumb enough to believe it.
Miraculously, your boyfriend went right back to blabbering. He loved to talk when it was about himself; he switched to the topic of how his dad was forcing him to get a job at the mall for not getting into college.
You almost felt bad since he doesn't really have anyone to talk to. He always dumps it on you, and you let him no matter how shitty he is to you.
Your mind doesn't have time to wander that way as the metalhead picked you up, pulling out and admiring the mess you made. The hollow feeling as your gaping hole clenched on nothing made you wince.
Eddie's soft hands laid you down with your back on the mattress. It felt nice to be horizontal again, able to let yourself settle in with limbs that felt like Jell-O. You rolled your head to the left, trapping the phone between your ear and shoulder so you didn't have to hold it up anymore.
With heavy eyelids, you glanced up at where the long-haired boy was. He was standing at the foot of the bed, taking a long drag of the cigarette he'd abandoned in the bedside ashtray. You two held gazes as he blew out a grey cloud.
"Want some?" he mouthed to you. You nodded, eyes blown open with luster. The springs of the mattress creaked beneath his weight as he leaned on a knee, outstretching his tattooed arm.
"What about The Gap? Or Herman's Sporting Goods?" you suggested to Steve's need for a job.
After the words left you, Eddie held the filtered end up to your lips. You laid a gentle hand on his forearm and swept the pad of your thumb over the freckled skin. The deep inhale of tobacco was a welcome indulgence after the body-shaking orgasm you had.
The sight of you was trouble, however.
Eddie could feel the blood rushing back to his crotch again already. As he backed up, you caught sight of his cock, red and hardening. His sex drive never failed to impress you; that's why most times you left his place being unable to walk.
He couldn't handle it. How beautiful and fucked-out you looked laying there. Your body, every curve and dip, was glimmering with a sheen of sex. His marks were all over you: from hickeys to bruising indents of his rings, to his cum dribbling out of your sweet center.
His heart was throbbing, perhaps even more painfully than his dick was.
It stood upright against his toned stomach as his gaze dragged across you. The Harrington boy recounted his failures of the jobs he'd already applied for while you twisted the rubber-coated cord around your finger.
The image of the older male needy for you again had you rubbing your bare thighs together. He was undeniably the most attractive guy you'd ever seen. Never before had you had this level of sexual chemistry and spark with someone. It's like he unlocked something in you, took away your fears, and maximized your pleasure in all things.
"Jesus," he muttered.
You two moved in sync, your hand traveling up your own body as he brought an uneasy hand down to palm himself. His tip glistened with pearlescent pre-cum when your red-painted fingernails cupped your breast. You squeezed down just enough for the fat to spill between your knuckles, putting on a show.
Apparently, your stamina had built up since being involved with Eddie. You beckoned him closer with a curling pointer finger.
"Need you," you let the words ghost out. And because he would do anything you say, the boy crawled atop you so his frizzed curls hung down around your face.
You gripped the midsection of the phone to secure Steve's increasingly-irritating voice against your ear. The lower speaker pressed into your shoulder, hopefully an effective agent for muffling noise.
Two of your nimble fingers hooked around Eddie's dangling necklace to pull him down. His mouth was gentle on yours, a newfound softness to ease back in. It was a nice break from the rushed heat of the past hours and still turned you on an immense amount.
There wasn't much foreplay this time. Eddie's diamond-hard cock sank inside you easily as you made out lazily. You whimpered at the sensitivity of your puffy cunt, a pathetic sound that he swallowed as you passed it onto his skillful tongue.
"Do you think Coach would be one of my references?" Steve's questioning intonation snagged your attention before it got too foggy. You hummed against Eddie's lips and your unspoken language got him to pull away.
"Mm, maybe...who else do you have?" you mumbled. As you turned your head to the receiver, the long-haired male kissed your cheek and temple. He then nuzzled his face into your neck.
It was a momentary break for him, pausing to breathe in your scent and become intoxicated with you. It was something he did when he was feeling clingy, needy for you; a confusion in his mind on why he felt so intimately connected to his friend with benefits.
"Perfect girl. He doesn't deserve you," Eddie slurred with hot fanning breaths. "Gonna make you forget him. Gonna fuck you so good you can't remember his dumb name..."
As he grumbled in one of your ears, Steve was in the other, justifying that he used his mom as a reference. You urged him to think of other people and asked him about places in town that he thought would be fun to work at; you knew this would send him into more verbose blabbing.
Your purposeful inquisition worked and your boyfriend's words became garbled nonsense as you shifted attention back to the pretty boy on top of you.
He had begun to thrust, slow and sloppy. The movement was enough to increase your two's breathing and arousal. He accompanied it with wet kisses along your neck, suckling the tender skin every so often.
"More," you huffed. Your fingers twisted in the roots of Eddie's hair and tugged softly, emitting a groan from his throat.
"More what, sweets? Hm?" he urged, lifting his face up to see you. He was super talkative in the bedroom, so it was killing him trying to tone it down since you were on the phone.
"M-more Eddie."
He puffed air through his nostrils in amusement and forced his cock a tad deeper in you. His hips continually met yours as you felt every veiny detail of him gliding inside. The whine that left you was unintentionally loud, neediness pricking momentary irrationality in you.
Hearing you asking for more him had Eddie's world spinning and cock pulsing.
"'M gonna give it to you, but you gotta be quiet for me," he grunted. "Just a little longer."
You gave him agreement by stretching your neck up to meet his lips, kissing him into a wet mess. He adjusted his legs, slightly kneeling to give him better leverage to fuck you. As his hips picked up moving again, a thought struck his fuzzy mind. He broke the kiss.
"Baby, need you to do somethin'," he uttered in that deep bass his voice takes on during sex. "When you cum, be as loud as you want."
"E, he's gonna hear." You emphasized the words quietly, gesturing with your head to the phone you held with a clammy hand.
"I know" was all he said before snapping back and stuffing his cock meanly into your sopping pussy. Your hand was jostled from his hair to the broadness of his back, muscles strong beneath taught pale skin. You had to dig your nails in for grip, trying to hold on and not scream from how incredible he felt.
Missionary was not a position you two used often. It was too romantic, though you blamed it on its "vanilla" reputation; nothing was vanilla when Eddie was as huge and skilled as he was.
In fact, being able to see him up close in the position was launching you toward your orgasm so quickly that you couldn't even think. His eyes were like polished cedar, brown and glossy as he maintained an unbroken gaze.
The curled mess of his hair hung around his broad shoulders and strands of his bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat. Pink, plump lips that kiss you just how you need him every time were parted to let out throaty breaths. His cheeks, flecked with faint spots and a tiny vertical scar, had flushed the most delectable red hue.
It was impossible to conceal the small uh's and hah's that slipped your lips. Eddie couldn't get enough of them, fueled to fuck you harder so he could hear them louder.
You loved being able to hear him too. He was no doubt the one in charge, but you had the ability to make him fall apart with such ease. There was a longing in your chest to hear him praising you, something he was holding off on since Steve was still a third party to this.
Normally, the older male would be coaxing you to your orgasm. He always hit this point where you were squeezing him so tight that his mind got lost, absolutely drunk on you and how you felt.
Feel so fucking good, babe. Jesus, you're fuckin' tight. Wanna hear those pretty noises when you cum for me. Perfect pussy squeezin' me just right. Gonna fuck you like this forever, beautiful girl.
He was biting his tongue now, only letting flat huffs and the occasional groan fly free. But you knew the things that drove him crazy.
You lifted your hips, wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him closer. It made you suck his thick cock even more, pussy suctioning him to its limit. The angle had his tip spearing into your stomach and he could feel it. He hissed through his teeth.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he groaned. Your warmth was gripping him like a vice and it had the muscles in his abdomen tightening. His thrusts stuttered only a second before they increased in intensity.
Harder, deeper, faster.
"Fuck! Eddie, Eddie," you gurgled, tongue twisted and mind entirely mush. Reckless abandon took over you, leaving Steve entirely forgotten. "Oh my-hah-ah...Baby, baby please!"
The pitched whininess to your voice was a telltale sign of your climax. Eddie stroked a hand up your side, thumb rubbing your tummy.
"Let me hear your pretty sounds," he purred. "Let go, baby. Cum for me."
You were a goner.
With the sensitivity of your cunt, you came suddenly, harshly. A flash of white light overtook your vision and your head pushed back into the pillow. As Eddie continued grinding himself deep into you, your back arched up off the mattress to press your body against his chest.
The noise that rattled your throat was somewhere between a sob and a moan. As your body seized up, the plastic phone dropped into your shoulder. Your fingernails dug further into the reddened lines they scratched on Eddie's toned back.
Your juices mixing with the cum he was fucking back into you made a wet squelching as he continually rammed in. He thrust through your high as his balls tightened and he couldn't take any more. His rings pinched your skin as he clamped down on your hips for leverage.
"Pretty girl takin' me so good." Eddie began the mindless ramble he often does as he unravels. "Pussy was made for me. Pretty...fuck, 'm gonna cum. Gonna cum inside my girl. My sweets-"
Despite your exhaustion and subspace blankness, you gasped at the sensation of the hot flood of his cum coating your walls. His cock throbbed as you squeezed him for every drop. Eddie panted in heavy breaths as he continued to slackly thrust.
He let his sticky body rest on yours gently while his dick softened inside you. Your legs dropped onto the mattress and you relaxed, letting your breathing regulate.
The wordless recovery was one of the best parts of sex with Eddie; both of you making dulcet sounds, bodies pressed together...just you and him in a cloud of euphoria and heat.
That peaceful moment was cut terribly short when Steve's furious voice boomed through the phone speaker. He was loud enough that you both could hear him even as the landline lay in the crook of you.
"Are you having sex right now? You're fucking some other guy?! Answer me, (Y/n). I swear to God..."
Eddie lifted his head up from your chest to clutch the phone, believing you were too out of it. As he was about to scream back at your boyfriend, your small hand encased his large one. You nodded at him and took the phone.
Though you appreciated his protectiveness of you, this was yours to handle. Steve Harrington had screwed you over, treated you like shit too many times.
No more.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Is that wrong of me to do?" you began. You didn't know tonight would be the night you duke this out with him, but here you were.
"Are you fucking kidding?!" Steve snapped, obviously fuming. "You're cheating while you're on the phone with me!"
"You wanna talk to me about cheating, Steve? That's hilarious. Really fucking ironic, don't you think? I'm not an idiot. Heather, Tina, Linda, Tracy, god damn Carol!"
The words you spat made him shut up. You took a moment to breathe, the anger toiling inside you mixed with the heat of sex. Eddie collected your tangled hair to lift off your neck, preventing you from overheating.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Steve deadpanned. "I knew you could be a real bitch, but slut trumps that by a long shot."
The phone was ripped out of your grasp before you could reply. Eddie had heard and he was fucking seething. In the low lamplight of the room, you swore you saw fire in his eyes.
"Talk to her like that again and no girl will ever want to be seen with your reconstructed face," Eddie threatened. His voice was booming, full of venom.
"A cheating, classless, daddy's money douchebag like you could never take care of a girl like her. Don't worry, 'cause I've got it covered. Fuck you."
You flinched at how hard he slammed the phone back onto its holder. His shoulders broadened as he inhaled a deep breath and released it, shaking with anger.
However, when he brought his face back to you it was soft and kind...those eyes cradling you inside their vision like the most precious thing he's ever seen. Without thinking, you used two slim fingers to brush back his hair with a tender touch.
"Are you okay?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
He leaned his weight onto his left side, hip meeting the mattress. His soft length remained inside you, plugging up the creamy mess you two made. Your body moved with his, angled just slightly as he used a grip on your waist to keep you ever so close.
"Mhm," you hummed, closing your eyes momentarily. You were dazed, worn from going at it for hours with Eddie and exerting the rest of your energy on Steve.
The tattooed boy tipped your hips as he pulled out, making you wince at the sensation. Feeling that empty after being stuffed full all night had you tingling. He kissed your cheek with saliva-shined lips and reached blindly around the bedside. Your eyes blinked open slowly upon the contact of him wiping you clean with his bandana.
Mindlessly you ran your hand up and down his warm bicep. He swiped the cloth delicately over your swollen folds, taking care not to hurt the sensitive area.
As he cleared the wetness, you watched his eyes, glossed and mesmerized that were glued to your sex. You breathed a hum of amusement; he was still shamelessly addicted to your pussy, even when he was showering you with the tender aftercare he did every time.
"Thank you," you expressed. It was an innocent utterance into a room heavy with sweat and lust. Eddie's gaze met yours and you blinked, tiredly.
"I told you before, you don't have to thank me for cleaning up, sweetheart." He scrunched his nose cutely.
"I didn't mean for that."
"You don't have to thank me for making you cum," he remarked with a cocky smirk.
"Not that either, you dork." You poked your red-varnished fingernail into the black ink on his peck. As your round-cheeked smile faded, the eye contact between you two intensified.
For fuck buddies who keep one another secret, you sure do look at one another with a lot of endearment. Maybe it's because of how intimately you know one another from the sex. Deep down you both know it's more than that; you just don't want to admit it and ruin what you have.
"I meant thank you for helping me finally get rid of that jerk," you mumbled. It made him smile genuinely with those dimples that charmed his way into your pants many months ago.
"Fun way to do it, wasn't it?" he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. He circled you in his arms, one slipping beneath your neck and the other wrapping around your back.
Both your hands rested on his chest when he tugged you closer. Naturally, your legs tangled into a jumble as your bodies were constantly magnetized to be as near as possible. It was a state of calm that you never felt with anyone else.
"I couldn't handle hearing you cry over him anymore," Eddie admitted. His voice rumbled under where your palms were flattened. "He never deserved you and you didn't deserve to feel like that."
The wavering breaths you released tickled his pale skin, still burning. He seemed to always have the right words and the ability to make you feel good. You scooted your face closer to his on the silken pillow.
"I feel a lot better now," you murmured.
"I bet you do," he smirked. "I think that big finale was the loudest you've ever been. 'Oh, Eddie! Oh, baby!'"
His teasing mockery of your moaning made you roll your eyes, but his big dimply smile got you. You burst into giggles as the inches between you closed and his nose bumped yours.
You didn't need Steve; you never did. It was your friends with benefits, your fuck buddy, your dirty little secret who finally made you realize it.
A blissed smile formed on your plumped lips when Eddie kissed your forehead and hugged you against him. Relaxation soothed your sore muscles as you had nothing left to worry about.
Not then, anyway. It was just you and this perfect boy who respected you and made you scream with pleasure.
Cuddling in the afterglow with him, it wasn't long before you were both fast asleep, velvet skin pressed warmly together as you rest your tired bodies.
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reblogs & feedback are appreciated! thanks for reading♡
pairing : johnny sinclair x reader (no gender mentions)
tropes/genres : fluff, slight tw (parent death), best friend's cousin, very tom & jerry, teasing and banter
word count : 4.4k
author's note : ello everybody... first of all thank you so much for the love on my previous johnny fic! this one took me a little longer to write just cus i wasn't feeling my writing that much but hopefully it turned out okay (lowkey all over the place BUT)! secondly, i've seen the johnny sinclair x fem!reader discourse going around and wanted to clarify that this fic does not have any gender mentions for the reader, and i will continue to write my johnny fics so there are no gender mentions for reader. it is simply for whoever is reading it to interpret the character as they want, thank you!
*not edited as of 7/16/25
“congratulations, to the class of 2023!” our principal, dr. hayes, concluded his graduation speech before directing us all to stand up with the crowd erupting in applause. my peers turned rowdy, throwing their caps up into the air, colliding into each other’s bodies in tight hugs, and running around the grassy field. i, too, would have done something crazy, like stand up on the white, plastic chairs given to us for the ceremony, or hug the stranger next to me, but knowing that i had just barely completed my senior year with enough credits to get me by, i was just relieved i was graduating at all. there wasn’t much for me to celebrate other than the fact that i didn’t have to repeat this dreaded year.
senior year was a rough one. everyone says your junior year is the hardest, but no one tells you how senioritis comes creeping up your back the second you let your guard down. or how you may or may not lose both your parents in a car accident. no one really tells you anything about how your life is supposed to or not supposed to go. that’s because no one really knows.
i was actually doing really well the first half of my junior year. straight A’s with one B in ap us history. history was never my strong suite, but i still pushed through. i’d spend endless nights memorizing the dates and events that made up our country’s very important history, only to mix up names of wars and massacres and all the things that come with the rest of it. all of those seemingly important dates soon deemed themselves insignificant to me, though.
february 14, 2023 was a day i’d never forget.
it started off a regular valentine's day, one that honestly hadn't changed at all every time it came around the past eighteen years. it would've been just any other day for me if i hadn't been living with two lovebirds, also known as my parents. the two were high school sweethearts, thus why they had this bright, burning spark going on for ages. a spark i envied. sometimes i wondered where they went wrong with me, how they ended up with a kid that nobody could ever possibly love.
although it wasn't completely like that, either. my best friend, mirren, was never short of confessing her love towards me. not in a "you're the love of my life and i want to make babies and grow old with you" type of way, but more so "you're the bestest friend i've ever had, how could i ever live without you" type of way.
mirren was sugar, curiousity, and rain. i liked having her around. i liked having someone to confide in, when it felt like i was all alone in the world.
mirren was there for me after my parent's accident. they had gone on a date my dad had planned for the two of them for valentine's day. the restaurant they had gone to was one where they had their first date, back in high school. except they never made it to the restaurant. i got a call at 8:02 PM from an unknown number. i never picked up unknown numbers. but they called again, i ignored it again. the third time felt too odd for me to let it ring through, so i picked up.
"is this y/n?" a cold, stern voice said through the other end of the phone.
"yes..." i hesitated, "who's asking?"
the rest of the conversation was hazy, like my brain purposefully cut out parts of it so i couldn't hurt myself trying to remember how it went.
"we're very sorry...."
"nothing more we could do...."
"at the scene...."
"gone."
they were gone.
mirren and i were in her room, where she was painting her nails on the floor below me, while i sat on her bed flipping through the millions of magazines she had collected.
"the offer still stands, you know," she chimed up.
"mm," i acknowledged, still looking through the seventeen magazine.
the offer mirren was talking about was joining her, and the rest of her family, at their private island for the summer. no matter how many times mirren mentioned stories of beechwood, the idea of a private island always baffled me. bess, her mom, was also aboard the idea and said it'd be good for me to get out of here for a bit. even if it's just for the summer.
i was grateful for the opportunity, truly, but i didn't know if summer vacations at private islands were my thing. my summers, before this one, consisted of helping out my mom in the backyard garden or playing volleyball with my dad at a nearby park.
"come ooonnnnn, it'd be like," mirren blew at her fingernails, "a hundred times more fun with you there."
"i just wouldn't want to intrude," i said, putting down the magazine spine-up on the bed.
"and you wouldn't," mirren said, standing up from her spot on the ground to look down at me, "trust me."
i did trust mirren, a hell of a lot even. she and i had been friends since the fifth grade, somehow ending up in all of our classes together up until high school, when she had to transfer out of the district. we still kept in contact, though, and we were still closer than ever.
"besides, my cousin johnny also brings a non-sinclair with him to the island every summer. though gat's basically part of the family at this point," mirren added on, trying to convince me further. i thought about it for a good twenty seconds and sighed.
"fine," i said, giving in as i sat up straight on the bed, legs and arms crossed.
"yes!!!! thank you, thank you, thank youuuu," mirren squealed, grabbing me with her arms and pulling me into a tight hug. i let myself melt in her embrace. god, this girl was a miracle.
with only three days of official notice, i had gotten packed and ready to spend my summer in beechwood with the sinclairs. i headed downstairs, bag in hand, and set it down to the floor in front of the door. then i looked back, taking in the gloom that had filled up the emptiness of my parents' presence in our home. my aunt up in canada insisted on me living with their family after the funeral, but i couldn't leave this house, these memories—them.
i snapped out of the thoughts of despair at the sound of a car honking. grabbing my bag off the floor, i opened the front door to see mirren, her mom, and siblings waiting for me in their car. taft was waving his little hand at me while mirren started getting out of the car to help me with my stuff.
and then it was off to beechwood island.
—
one by one, bess, liberty, bonnie, and taft stepped out of the boat and onto the dock. mirren followed, reaching for my hand to help me off after her. nerves rushed through my body, but excitement bubbled up within me in no time. i had thought the view from the boat was beautiful, but looking out to the water from land was on a whole other level. i couldn't believe this view was the norm for them.
"you okay?" mirren asked as we walked far behind the rest of her family. i looked up to her and nodded. "we're going to have so much fun," she continued, reassuring me, my hand still in hers as she squeezed tight.
with everyone already ahead of us, mirren and i walked up the grassy hill, coming face to face with a beautiful, mansion-like home. the area was bustling with people and playful dogs, barking around and chasing tennis balls.
"mirren, who is that?" i whispered, loud enough for only her to hear, though my eyes were still caught on a tall, blondie talking to what seemed like a mini version of him.
"him? that's my cousin, johnny. remember the one i mentioned?" mirren replied, giving me a confused look.
yeah, only like a bajillion times. mirren always talked about her summers at beechwood with her cousins, only failing to mention how absolutely gorgeous one of them were. well, that was a lie, her whole family was gorgeous. pale, blonde, and perfect hair must've been the requirement to be a sinclair.
"let's go, i'll introduce you to everyone," mirren grabbed my hand and began walking me over to the rest of her family. suddenly i felt quite overwhelmed. i didn't have much family back home, it was always just me, mom, and dad—mom, dad, and i.
although it was just me now.
sometimes i cursed my parents for not giving me a sibling. mirren used to tell me how jealous she was that i got to be an only child, and how she would love all the attention that came with it. i thought the opposite. i loved mirren, but i absolutely adored her little siblings, too. whenever i came over, mirren would drag us straight to her room, but i always made sure to acknowledge liberty, bonnie, and taft before heading up with her. taft was my favorite out of her siblings. the little was crafty, like mirren, and always made sure to give me one of his paper origami creations whenever i visited.
plenty of "nice to meet you's" and nods of acknowledgement went around as mirren introduced me to her aunts and grandparents. all beautiful, blonde and perfect.
"and theeese are my favorite people ever," mirren gestured towards the group. one by one, they introduced themselves. cadence, gat, and johnny. i looked at johnny a second longer than the other two, without meaning it, but i also couldn't help myself.
who knew summer vacation on a private island could be this fun? well, me, i knew that. i just never could have imagined actually being here. my days on beechwood routinely included endless hours tanning on the beach, ice cream for days, and messing with cady and gat, who by the way, totally liked each other. i asked mirren what their deal was and she simply shrugged and gave me a "hell, if i know" look.
i ended up spending a lot of time with johnny, surprisingly. mirren started disappearing on us, which i badgered her about constantly and only got giggles and "it's nothing's" out of her. and well, there was no way i'd be third-wheeling gat and cadence. those two always seemed like they were in their own little world away from the rest of us.
johnny was fun. we spent a lot of time out on the tennis courts where he taught me how to play and spoil alert, i was terrible.
"johnny, i don't think i'm ever going to get this game," i heaved, hands resting on my knees as i tried to catch my breath. "you're training me like i'm heading to finals next week."
"no, no, i really think you've got something special," he called back out from the other side of the net, waving around his racket in the air. i knew he was being sarcastic, but that's what i liked about him. we could joke around with each other knowing the other was almost never being serious. i couldn't always do that with mirren, knowing i'd probably hurt her feelings on accident.
"ugh, let's just take a break," i responded, heading over to the bench at the edge of the court. johnny set down his racket and walked over to sit down next to me, water in hand.
"hydrate," johnny said, holding the bottle out to me.
"thanks," i replied and gulped down what seemed like the entire bottle of water.
"okay, break time over," johnny said as soon i stopped drinking, getting up from the bench. i groaned and threw my head back in response.
"i am not getting up. no, actually, i can't get up. and that's because my legs quite literally have given up on me," i protested, looking up at johnny, who by the way, was barely even breaking a sweat.
"come on, we've barely been out here for, like, an hour," johnny threw back.
"yeah, more like three. we've been here since ten in the morning, johnny, and i bet you mirren is still in bed and asleep."
"you really can't get up?" johnny asked then.
"huh?" i looked at him, confused.
"your legs, they're not working?"
"i mean i'm tired, but i'm sure i can get back to the house just fine," i replied, wiggling my legs around to actually make sure they were still moving.
i looked back up from my legs to see johnny kneeling on the ground, back facing me.
"what are you doing?" i asked, mouth agape.
"just get on, will you?" he turned to face me now with a brow raised.
"no, johnny, i'm fine, seriously," i objected, but my actions proved otherwise as i tried getting up to walk away from the bench only to sit my ass back down, legs wobbling.
"see," johnny blew a breath out, "stop being stubborn and get on."
i knew there was no fighting him and that he'd get me on his back one way or another. i just decided to take the easy route as i let out an annoyed groan and hopped on his back, arms crossed over and around his shoulders.
"don't you dare drop me," i warned as johnny got up on his feet with ease. i knew he was athletic, but it seriously didn't even seem like he was struggling.
"then you better hold on tight."
"calendar, not calender," i pointed at the scrabble word johnny just put down.
"are you serious?" johnny looked up, "don't mess with me just because you want to win again."
"i'm not even kidding, it's spelled c-a-l-e-n-d-a-r."
"there's no way, i swear i've been spelling it c-a-l-e-n-d-e-r, like, my whole life," johnny ran a hand through his hair like he had just made a huge discovery that changed the trajectory of his world.
"sorry to break it to you," i laughed, rolling my eyes before getting up from the pillow i was sitting on.
"whatever, i never win when playing with you anyway," he complained as he got up after me.
"well, you're good at tennis and i'm good at scrabble," i reasoned, "that makes us even."
"does it, though?" johnny said, mockingly.
"i take that back, actually, i am better than you," i glared back at him, regretting being nice for even a second.
"i demand a rematch," johnny declared.
"in your dreams, blondie," i called out as i made my way out the door to go look for mirren, leaving johnny alone at cuddledown.
mirren had us split up for the lemon hunt, something about covering more ground. i wouldn't have minded if not for the fact that i literally did not know my way around this island even after being here for a solid three weeks. i circled the same little patch of grass before realizing i had passed by this little garden gnome three times already.
i looked down into my basket, counting six lemons. i wondered where mirren's grandfather could have hidden the one lime, and if it was even possible to find it at all. i didn't consider myself a competitive person, but finding the lime in my very first lemon hunt would have been quite impressive.
"y/n!"
i turned around at the mention of my name to see johnny walking towards me, basket full to the brim with lemons.
"here to snatch my findings, too?" i called back out, jokingly.
johnny let out a chuckle and shook his head. "no, but i do have a proposition," he insisted.
"and that is?" i tilted my head to the side questioningly.
"you see, i know you're probably helping out mirren," he started.
"mhmm."
"buuuut, i think i could be of more use," he continued, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"how, exactly?"
"i'll get you whatever you want," johnny looked down to my basket and pointed, "in exchange for the lemons."
"whatever i want?"
"anything."
i thought about johnny's offer, long and hard.
"i'm very sorry, johnny, but i don't think i'll be of much help," i said with a sickeningly sweet smile, before turning around to walk away, loosely swinging my basket around like bait.
johnny came running to my side like a puppy, quickly hooking on the bait i put out.
"come on, y/n, there has to be something you want," johnny pleaded.
sinclairs really did not play about their lemons.
"okay, there might be something," i confessed, still avoiding eye contact while swinging my basket back and forth.
"just say the word."
i paused in my tracks and faced johnny, having to slightly look up because he was so much taller than i was.
"johnny," i began, "do you think you could turn back time?"
johnny looked kind of dumbfounded, like he wasn't expecting me to ask of something so out of the ordinary. i was pleased that i caught him off guard, but i knew deep down that i wasn't kidding about what i wanted. i did want to turn back time. i wanted to go back, to that day, and stop my parents from ever leaving the house, from ever leaving me.
"come with me," johnny said after a few silent seconds, reaching to grab my free arm. i followed as he led me away, not saying another word.
—
"this, right here, is my spot," johnny declared, opening his arms wide as he showed off the view.
"your spot?" i asked, setting my basket down on the sand.
"yeah, i call it 'johnny's super secret and super awesome spot that nobody knows.'"
"'nobody knows,' seriously? not even gat? mirren, cadence?"
"not even them," he replied, shaking his head.
"why bring me here, then?"
"to turn back time, duh."
"okay, now i know you're messing with me, johnny sinclair, because time travel is so not real," i said, crossing my arms.
"i told you i'd get you whatever you want, didn't i?" johnny replied, brows slightly raised and a satisfied smile on his face.
i looked at johnny all skeptical, then turned away to scope out the place he had brought me to. there was a slight breeze in the air, the sun starting to set and the moon coming out to play. there was no sight of buildings or houses from this view, or any other human for that matter. just us and the sound of the ocean.
rocks of all sizes scattered the shore, waves crashing back and forth. from the water, about a half a mile of sand led up to a patch of grass and nature. johnny began to take his shoes and socks off, gesturing at me to do the same. i complied, really wondering where he was going with this.
"to the water," johnny announced, making his way towards the blue with a finger turned up in the air.
"water? johnny, it's quite literally freezing right now," i said, pulling my arms closer to my body in attempt to ease the shivers.
"just truuust me. we're going back in time, remember?" he called out, closer to the water now than he was me.
i rolled my eyes, not that he saw as he continued to walk away. finally catching up to him, i let my feet sink into the wet sand, watching as little crabs and seashells emerged with each encounter of water.
"now what?" i asked, looking up at johnny—who had his eyes closed?
"now we breathe," johnny replied, taking a deep breath in, then letting out. i did not take johnny sinclair as a "zen" guy.
i wasn't closing my eyes, but i started doing the breathing thing anyway. i had adjusted to the water temperature by now, and i continued to let in a deep, jagged breath and then slowly let it out.
"you're tensing up," johnny said from behind me now as he gently shook my shoulders, "just relax."
i closed my eyes, feeling comforted by his touch and the water beneath my feet. my shoulders sagged a little and i felt the tension exit my body as i continued to breathe in and out.
the sound of water splashing and wind whistling was almost hypnotizing. the two were harmonizing, giving rise to a rhythm that conjured from everything to nothing. my eyes still closed, i embraced the darkness, picturing myself roaming through an endless void. i walked for what felt like ages until a glimmer of light grazed my field of vision.
i started running towards it, like it was calling my name, only to realize it was. i could hear my mom, then my dad, calling my name.
"y/n... y/n!"
the voices got louder as i got closer to the light—and then i saw them. my parents, like they had never left. we were in the living room of our house, except everything was brighter and more radiant than i last saw it a month ago.
"oh, honey," my mom was sitting on the couch, mug in hand. she looked so... alive. her brunette curls were let down, not a single grey hair to be seen.
sitting next to her was my dad with a book in his hands. he was always such a reader, buying me books and lending me his own whenever he could.
i immediately threw my arms around them, hugging like them never before. holding onto them like my life depended on it.
"i love you guys so, so much," i cried out, tears uncontrollably falling from my eyes.
"we love you, and miss you, so much," my dad said, hugging me back.
and in the blink of an eye, they were gone again. there was so much more i could have said to them. how i wish they were here, how guilty i had felt having such a fun summer after losing them, how far i would go just to see them once last time.
yet, this was better than i had hoped for. i got to hug my parents, see them in all their glory, and told them how much i loved them. thanks to johnny, i was given at least that.
"soooo did it work?" johnny asked as we got out of the water. the sun was long gone, leaving us wandering in the moonlight.
"in a way," i said, making sure my face was void of any tears before facing him.
"does that mean-"
"yes, johnny, you can have the lemons," i rolled my eyes.
"yes!" johnny exclaimed, fist pumping the air.
"do you do that often?" i asked.
"do what? express joy?"
"no, idiot," i laughed at his remark, "do you come out here and do that often?" i explained, nodding towards the beach.
"oh," johnny understood then, "sort of. i did a lot more when i was younger. it helped me escape, you know? not from beechwood, but from life. the bad parts," johnny continued, walking with his hands in the pockets of his shorts, "my dad... he... he's not really a good person. made our lives a living hell. sometimes i just needed something to help me forget."
"i'm sorry he was so shitty," i said. and i really was sorry. he didn't deserve that. not him or his family.
"yeah... me too," johnny sighed as he sat down on the sand where we had left our baskets.
"i lost my parents," i said out loud after a couple of minutes of silence. johnny turned to look at me, but i kept my gaze on the water in front of me.
"when?" johnny asked, quietly, almost like he was nervous to talk about it.
"february, this year."
"god, i'm so sorry, y/n," johnny shook his head, hand running through his hair.
"me too," i whispered, returning his words from earlier as i let my gaze fall upon him again.
johnny was sort of, really, beautiful. the sun did him good this summer, leaving his freckled skin with a soft tan. the ends of his dirty, blonde hair curled up from the ocean mist. the water ahead of us was a color match for his blue eyes—eyes i wanted to get absolutely lost in.
and even in the dark of the night, he shined brightly.
"you're staring," he whispered, yet making sure not to break eye contact either.
"so are you," i countered.
"only because you are," johnny leaned in the slightest bit closer. something shifted in the air then. it felt like everything around us was moving while we were frozen in our own little bubble.
just us.
johnny made the first move. his hand hovered over my cheek before gently grazing over my lips, hesitant. words weren't needed to express how we both felt. in this moment, all we needed was each other.
i brought both my hands up to hold onto johnny's face, fitted perfectly against his curved jaw. then, i pulled him in closer. we were only centimeters apart for a split second before johnny placed his lips over mine. it started off sweet; small, shy pecks exchanged between the two of us. i let my hands wander down to the back of johnny's neck, feeling the curled ends of his hair tangling through my fingers.
"you're good at scrabble, but i think you're even better at kissing," johnny said, breaking the kiss.
"well, i think you're still better in the tennis department," i lied, giggling before i placed another soft peck to his lips.
"so you suck at tennis and you're a terrible liar, got it," johnny retaliated, hands still cupping my face.
"mirren's gonna be so mad at me," i sighed as i reached for my lemon basket.
"oh, she'll forget about this by the end of the week," johnny replied with a chuckle.
"johnny?"
"yeah?" johnny's face perked up at the mention of his name.
"thanks for today," i said, a smile forming on my lips, truly meaning my gratitude. johnny gave me a smile and squeezed my hand in return.
Summary: It’s just sex, right? There’s no room for messy, unrequited feelings, or spiralling negative thoughts. Right??
WC: ~1k
POV: Eddie
C/W: 18+ NSFW MDNI! Mentions of sex and drug use, feelings denial, longing, hurt/no comfort (in this one), open ending
A/N: You know I hate to hurt my blorbos, so there will be resolution, I promise
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Main masterlist
Eddie’s known for a long time that he has to safeguard his emotions. The rockstar lifestyle doesn’t exactly lend itself to the formulation and nurturing of healthy, well-balanced relationships. Which is what he tells himself every time you visit, whenever he’s in town in his serviced apartment for long enough to make the call.
He’d never tell you that he looks forward to your visits more and more each time. That he longs for the end of every tour sooner and sooner now, because of you.
He’d never tell you that thinking of you is what keeps him going on the long nights away. That his mind substitutes the visages of nameless groupies for yours. That he replaces the bitterness of the cocaine rubbed into his gums with the taste of you on his tongue.
He’d never tell you that the last ballad he wrote was all about you.
He’d never admit that there's a pair of your ruined panties balled up in the bottom of his dresser. The ones he tore from you that time you hadn't seen each other in months.
He’d never admit that in the same drawer is the shirt of his that you threw on that time his takeout arrived earlier than expected. When he’d oh so casually asked whether you’d want to join him (in fact, he’d been terrified). It still holds the faintest scent of your perfume, and yeah, perhaps a little post-coital perspiration, from where you’d kept it on as you ate, and he delights in it. He replays on a loop the giggles, gasps and ridiculous stories that erupted from both of you as you’d unexpectedly shared that meal; actions so simple and wholesome and not very rockstar, but for which he yearns for more.
He’d never admit that sometimes at night he retrieves these stolen treasures, inhaling your aroma as he recalls the beautiful noises you make when he caresses your tits, squeezes your hips, slides into you. When he uses that secret move and tilts his pelvis just so, connecting him with the electric core of you. And he'd never admit that sometimes, as he curls up in bed, he just... holds them.
So what if he wants you to stay? Longs for you to spend an entire weekend with him, kissing and fucking and talking, and then fucking some more. Shutting out the world and everyone in it, creating a haven for you two, alone.
So what if you’re easily the most stunning creature he’s ever had in his bed, or anywhere else? That your perfect, tender breasts feel so good in his hands, in his mouth, pressed against his chest. That you have the most gloriously delicious pussy that he’s ever had the privilege of being anywhere near. Or that yours is the most radiant smile he’s ever fucking seen. Or that your sense of humour fills his heart with joy, and generates a warmth within him that he thought he'd forgotten.
And so what if it’s those innocent, ordinary things that make him smile the most…
It doesn’t matter that you have a life that stretches way beyond him. A job, friends, probably a partner, maybe partners plural, who are perfect in every other way but can't quite satisfy you physically like he can. That you have an entire existence that’s rich and full, one that doesn’t involve him.
It doesn’t matter that you just want an occasional, albeit mind blowing, fuck from a semi-famous rockstar whenever he happens to be in town. That the best and most important thing he has to offer you is his dick...
It doesn’t matter that, for the first time in his life, he wants more. That he wants to be around you, to spend time with you, just… being. He wants to watch silly movies, play stupid games, talk about nothing and everything, and not talk at all.
It doesn’t mean anything when, as you're about to fall apart, he looks into your eyes and sees swirling galaxies, and his own soul reflected back at him.
It doesn’t mean anything that the feeling of you sharing his breaths and his moans as you wrap around his cock and suck him in is, for years, the closest thing he’s felt to anything resembling… home.
It doesn’t mean anything that with you, straight, sober and devoid of any frills and trappings, he has the most intense and intimate sex he’s ever had. That he’s never come so ferociously with anyone else. That he’s never before looked forward to the aftercare as much as the fucking. Sometimes even more so.
It doesn’t mean anything…
Who cares if the time you leave keeps getting later and later? You’re probably just avoiding going back to your ordinary life, and prolonging the exotic nature of your forays with him, storing the memories of ‘rockstar sex’ away in your mind to mull over when he’s out of town, or to compare against your other lays. You're probably busy with your normal, everyday life. Because there's no way in hell that you’ll be thinking about him.
Who cares if you're becoming dramatically languid about getting dressed, and you keep crawling back over to him for one last peck? Okay, just one more. No really, this is definitely the last one…
Who cares if each time you’re about to leave you pause, glancing over your shoulder, giving him a small smile and what he’s deluded himself into imagining is a fond look? So what if it sometimes, almost, maybe, possibly looks like you might be waiting, perhaps even hoping, for him to say something. And who cares if he doesn't?
Maybe one day he’ll ask you about your life, what you do. What else you enjoy other than the feeling of various parts of him against or inside various parts of you.
Maybe one day he’ll muster enough courage to tell you how he feels.
Maybe one day he’ll ask you to stay longer. Maybe see if you want to go out, somewhere nice. Maybe even somewhere public.
Maybe today, as you’re about to leave, he’ll sit up, reach for you, grasp at the cooling air where there’s already an unbearable chasm between you, and bravely whisper,
Wait...
Thanks so much for reading! There’s going to be more parts, posted over the course of this week, because I can’t leave it like this - let me know if you’d like to see them! My general taglist is opennnn…
we are never getting back together - series masterlist
Masterlist Tag Lists
Older!Eddie Munson x Ex Wife!Reader
Summary:
Eddie Munson is a lot of things. Mechanic, musician, loving father to his 11, 9, and 6 year old girls, your ex husband, and huge pain in your ass. Stupidly handsome and infuriating with his ability to make you smile and to weasel his way into your bed - he makes your life infinitely more complicated. Unfortunately, you’re stuck with him.
Warnings:
Smut (18+), lots of smut really, drinking, drug use, older!eddie, dad!eddie, mom!reader, ex husband!eddie, ex wife!reader, idiots in love who refuse to believe they’re in love, cheating (not on reader), pregnancy maybe idk who knows, check individual chapter warnings but this one’s going to be pretty light besides the smut!
virgin!perv!Eddie Munson x popular!cheerleader!Carver!fem!reader
some fwb!king!Steve Harrington x reader
Masterlist Tag Lists
Summary:
Eddie can’t help being obsessed with you, even though he knows you’re unattainable. The single most popular girl in school - and the hottest he’s ever seen. Maybe he takes his infatuation a little too far, but who can blame him when you look like that? Besides - sometimes dreams do come true.
Part 2 next week
Warnings:
Smut (18+), like a lot of smut, masturbation, unprotected p in v, creampie, voyeurism, public sex, mild dubcon (drunk sex), perv behavior, panty stealing/sniffing, looking up skirts, toxic relationship (with steve), virgin!eddie, perv!eddie, sub!eddie, experienced!reader, king!steve is an asshole
Word Count: 14.1k
A/N:
This is an Eddie romance but there is a lot of smut with Steve in this part - just so you’re prepared! When I say perv!Eddie, I mean it. Big thanks to @punkrockmlchael for my banner, beta reading, and helping me with Corroded Coffin dialogue, and to @writhingg for always being an amazing beta reader!!
Eddie’s hand slid up and down his slick cock, sufficiently lubed up with a mixture of precum and his own saliva. His stomach muscles tightened with every stroke, his head thrown back and eyes closed as he pictured you.
“Fuck,” he breathed out quickly, thumb swiping over his slit, making him moan pathetically.
He opened his eyes. He looked over to the yearbook he held in his left hand, propped open to the only page he ever looked at - your cheerleading portrait. Your beautiful face, your tits in that tight top, your legs in that tiny little skirt. God, how badly he wanted to bend you over, lift that skirt up-
His hips bucked up into his fist involuntarily, a whimper of your name escaping his lips. He had been holding off his orgasm for a while, bringing himself down every time he was on the edge before taking himself back there. Now he didn’t know if he could hold off- he was going to cum, hard.
“You like that?” he whispered to your picture, eyes locked on you. “Y’like when I fuck you like this? Taking this thick cock in your little pussy?” A shaky groan clawed its way out of his throat, his eyes fluttering closed before he snapped them open to look at you again.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum,” he whined. “You’re gonna make me cum so hard. Gonna give it to you, give you everything.”
His eyes traveled up your body in your yearbook photo, lingering on your tits before finally locking in on your face.
“Shit.” He moaned your name in a shaky breath, imagining you were here with those pretty pink lips wrapped around his shaft - or maybe balls deep in your pussy, watching your perfect ass bounce and listening to you make the most delicious noises as he fucked you hard from behind.
“You want me to cum?” he whined to your picture. “Wanna see how hard you make me cum, baby?”
He moved his hand faster, fucking his fist. The wet noise of his hand on his cock filled the room, along with Eddie’s keening moans and shaky breaths. He was so so close, just a little longer-
His favorite image of you flashed in his mind. You, in your cheer uniform, no panties, legs spread wide on his bed. Perfect pussy on display all for him. And Eddie, worshipping your body the way you deserved.
With one last whimper of your name, Eddie flicked his wrist one, two, three more times before he let out a choked moan, his cum splattering all over his fist and stomach. He worked himself through it, cumming more than he had last time he did this - he had edged himself for so long this time and it paid off - stroking his cock until his body jolted with the aftershocks and he couldn’t take it anymore.
He laid there, chest heaving as he attempted to calm his racing heart. He finally removed his hand from his softening cock, reaching for an old t-shirt on the floor to clean himself up. He wiped the cum off his hand and the rest of his body. Fuck, there was…a lot.
He imagined fucking it all inside of you instead, seeing it leaking out when he pulled out of you.
His cock gave a weak twitch.
He tucked himself back away in his boxers and pajama pants. The yearbook still lay open on the bed next to him. He glanced over, seeing your smiling face staring back at him. He closed the book.
Then, like clockwork, the post-nut clarity kicked in and the shame crept through his veins. He covered his face with his hands, wondering what the fuck was wrong with him.
Not only was he a total fucking creep - god, the way you, Carol, and Tina would laugh at him if you knew. And not only did you exist in a whole different world - you were astronomically popular - you were also completely unattainable.
And Jason’s twin sister.
Jason Carver, who hated Eddie and tormented him every chance he got. The blonde basketball team captain, King of Hawkins - well, next to Steve, at least. He’d always been popular, but ask anyone - the King title was always Steve’s first.
Not that Eddie gave a fuck about any of that high school hierarchy bullshit anyway.
This was a routine for Eddie. Watch you at school all day, get to interact with you if he’s lucky. Come home, daydream about you, get so hard he can’t stand it. Pull out your picture and jerk off while thinking about you, cum so hard he can’t think - then the guilt, the remorse.
And, fuck, he’d have to face you tomorrow. You, Carol, and Tina always bought from him every other Friday. He’d have to look you in the eyes, knowing what he just did.
Well, it wasn’t the first time.
Eddie had been obsessed with you since the beginning of time. He had been the grade above you until this year, but of course he knew you - everyone knew you. You were easily the single most popular girl at Hawkins and always had been.
You weren’t so bad. A little stuck up, maybe. Not like Jason, not a bully. You smiled and laughed when he flirted with you or bowed to you in the cafeteria. But you definitely thought he was a freak just like everyone else, and Eddie knew there was no reality where he had a chance with you.
So he did this.
Eddie got up from the bed, tossing the yearbook into the drawer, to be forgotten - or just pretend it doesn’t exist - until next time. Fuck. God, he really was a creep, wasn’t he?
“Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered to his guitar, his sweetheart, hanging on the wall - he always felt like the beloved instrument was a sentient thing, now silently judging him.
He walked out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom, feeling like he needed a shower to wash away the dirty feeling clinging to his skin. He turned the water on, finding the perfect temperature before shedding his clothes and stepping in.
The water did help, soothing not only his body but his mind. That is, until the image of you in there with him flashed into his brain, wet, gripping his cock before bending over for him-
Fuck.
“Oh, fuck, Steve!”
“Yeah,” Steve panted in your ear, fucking you hard and fast from behind. You were pressed against the wall of the locker room, cheer top rucked up to expose your tits, hard nipples pressed against the cold wall. Steve was pressed against your back, fucking into you frantically. “Fuck, take it. God, you’re such a fucking slut.”
You whimpered - you always liked when Steve degraded you a little. He wrapped his large hand around your neck, pulling your back flush against him as the room was filled with the sound of his hips slamming into yours, his balls slapping against your ass. He squeezed, cutting off your airflow. Your eyes rolled back.
“Can’t believe you let me do this,” he grunted into your ear, a smirk on his lips. He squeezed your neck harder. Fuck, he was gonna leave bruises again. You’d have to explain that to Jason and your parents.
His other hand left your hip and wound around your body, pressing two fingers against your clit, making your knees go weak. Steve was holding you up as he fucked you and started rubbing circles on your throbbing clit.
“Make a fucking mess on my cock, baby,” he whispered in your ear. “Let me feel how hard you can cum for me. Fuck, I can feel you clenching around me- shit, I’m not gonna last much longer-“
You were getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen. But then your orgasm hit, your vision going white as you came around him, his cock hitting that bundle of nerves and prolonging it until you were so far gone you had no idea what was happening anymore.
Steve let go of your neck and you fell forward, landing on your hands against the wall. He grabbed
onto your hips, slamming you back on his cock as he teetered right on the edge. Finally, he drew in a gasp, groaning loud as he snapped his cock in one more time and came inside you, thrusting shallowly.
He rode out his high deep in your pussy, groaning like he didn’t give a fuck if anyone heard. He kept a bruising grip on your hips until he was completely done - then he let you go, letting you fall forward against the locker room wall.
You spun around, shoving him hard in the chest. “Motherfucker, you weren’t supposed to finish inside!”
“Relax, I’ve got Plan B money.” He slapped your ass, grinning like an asshole. “Besides, you know I always cum inside you.”
You rolled your eyes, fixing your uniform and hair. You looked in the mirror, seeing your lipstick smudged - you looked back at Steve, seeing the traces of it on his neck and shirt. You weren’t gonna tell him.
You pulled your lipstick tube out of your bag and fixed your makeup while Steve pulled his jeans up and tucked his dick away. He looked at you again. “You coming to my party tonight?”
“Um, yeah,” you said - as if you ever missed a party. “We’re picking up the weed after school, don’t worry about it.”
“Cool,” he smirked. His eyes dropped down to your ass again before going back to your face. “You’re gonna make Munson cream his pants. You know how he feels about the uniform.”
You rolled your eyes, even though you knew Steve was right. There was a reason they sent you to pick up from Eddie every time.
“I feel bad,” you said. You put the top back on your lipstick, smacking your lips together. “He’s a nice guy.”
“Munson?” Steve snorted. “Dude’s a-“
“A freak, yeah I know.”
“Well, don’t feel bad for him,” Steve said. He fixed his hair in the mirror, somehow without noticing the kiss prints and hickies on his neck. “We get a discount, he gets to talk to you and look up your skirt a little. It’s a win-win situation.”
You frowned. You weren’t so sure you felt good about it, but you didn’t push it. You knew the friend group relied on you for this - it’s not like any of you were hurting for money, but still.
“You’re just using what you were blessed with, baby,” he winked. “It’s not like you have to fuck him.”
The idea of that was so outlandish it nearly made you laugh. “Yeah. No.”
“Just make sure you lay it on thick. Let him think he’s got a shot,” Steve snorted. His hand slid up your skirt, grabbing your ass tightly in his hand. “Everyone knows all this belongs to me, anyway.”
“Steve, we are not together,” you reminded him.
“So?” He kissed your neck, a light hand shaped bruise starting to bloom there. “Still mine.”
It wasn’t, but you let him believe what he wanted. Steve finally stepped away from you, picking up his backpack from the floor against the wall. “I’m gonna sneak out before anyone notices we were in here together. I’ll see you.”
“See ya.”
You continued fussing with your hair for a few minutes after you heard the locker room door slam shut, giving Steve the chance to get far. When you felt like the coast was clear, you grabbed your own bag and slipped out.
“What were you doing in the men’s locker room?”
You froze, resisting the urge to let out a deep sigh. You turned around to see your twin brother looking at you, duffel bag over his shoulder as he was about to enter the room you’d just left.
“Nothing,” you said. “Steve forgot something and asked me to run and get it.”
Jason didn’t believe you for a second. “Do you always have to be such a slut?” he hissed, so quiet for only you to hear, even though the hallway was deserted.
You rolled your eyes. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
“You think I believe that?” he scoffed. “I know you. You know Steve talks, right? Do you know how fucking embarrassing that is? That everyone knows how my sister puts out?”
You reeled back, jaw dropping. “Jason Michael Carver.”
“Oh, do not full name me-“
“You just called me a slut!” You threw your arms up in the air. “You’re such a saint. I’m sure you and Chrissy have never done anything.”
“If we do, it’s in private,” he spat. “Because Chrissy has respect for herself, unlike you.”
“Whatever.” You pushed past Jason’s shoulder, flipping him off over your shoulder as you walked to class. “Asshole.”
You had English next - with Eddie. You walked into the classroom, the metalhead looking up at you through his frizzy bangs from his seat in the back. He nodded at you and you gave him a (slightly flirtatious) smile before sliding into your seat next to Carol.
“Where were you?” Carol whispered, chewing her bubblegum.
Your cheeks heated. “With Steve.”
She rolled her eyes. “I could have guessed that.” She leaned over the aisle, getting closer to you. “Where?”
You almost didn’t want to tell her. “Men’s locker room.”
Her eyes went wide before she gave you a look. “Girl.”
You shrugged, heat rushing to your cheeks even more. “No one saw us.” As the memory came back to you, you winced. “Well, Jason kind of caught me coming out and put it together.”
Carol stifled her giggle with her hand. “Oh my god. I bet he was pissed.”
You nodded, widening your eyes. “So pissed.” You pulled your notebook out, flipping to a clean page. “Good thing I don’t give a fuck if Jason’s mad.”
“He’s gonna kick Steve’s ass one of these days,” Carol said, turning back to her own book. “If I don’t do it first.”
Your friends weren’t Steve’s biggest fans either. They thought Steve treated you like shit, which, they weren’t really wrong. It was worse when you and Steve actually were together. He hadn’t been a good boyfriend at all. Now, they were just disappointed you kept sleeping with him.
“He just doesn’t want to be embarrassed,” you mumbled. “He doesn’t actually care about me.”
“I think that’s enough to get Steve’s ass beat.”
While you talked to Carol, Eddie stared holes into the back of your head. Well, not just your head, definitely not. How could he not also appreciate your tits? Or your long, smooth legs in your cheer skirt? God, he loved that skirt. He loved game days, and it didn’t have a thing to do with throwing balls into laundry baskets.
Eddie could never pay attention in his classes with you. He was going to end up failing senior year yet again at this rate. It was worth it, he thought, to get to look at you.
At the end of class, he pretended to be busy putting his stuff away until you and Carol stood. Like every day, he timed it just right, so he was leaving the classroom right behind you. Fuck, how did the school let the cheer uniforms have such tiny skirts? He could almost see the edge of your panties when you walked. None of the other girls on the team wore the skirt like you did, though - no one looked as good in it as you.
Eddie hardly even noticed other girls. He didn’t care about anyone else. It was only you, had always only ever been you. Which was stupid, because he might as well have been dreaming about fucking Phoebe Cates or Shauna Grant. God, you were hotter than Phoebe Cates and Shauna Grant.
He hardly even attempted to hide his staring anymore. He followed as far as he could, dreaming of getting a piece of you-
“Earth to Eddie,” Gareth said, shoving Eddie hard in the shoulder. “God, snap out of it, man.”
Eddie jumped, looking at Gareth - he quickly snapped his head back in your direction, but he’d already lost you in the crowd. Great. He turned back to Gareth with a scowl on his face.
“What, man?” he snapped.
“Oh, come on. You can’t seriously be mad I interrupted you staring at Miss Queen of Hawkins’ ass.”
“You know what?” Eddie said, stopping at his locker. “Yeah, I am. I was enjoying the view.”
“Yeah. I know.” Gareth rolled his eyes. “You’d think one day you’d stop chasing that pipe dream.”
“I’m not chasing a dream,” Eddie grumbled. “You think I don’t know perfectly well I have no chance with her? I’m not delusional.”
“Sometimes I wonder.” Gareth leaned against the lockers, watching Eddie shove his books in his own disaster of a locker. “Why don’t you try to be interested in someone else? That girl at The Hideout last week was flirting with you, I swear-“
“I just wasn’t interested,” Eddie shrugged. “She wasn’t my type.”
“Yeah, because your type is the fairer Carver twin.” Gareth looked at Eddie, like he had him all figured out. It pissed Eddie off. “You’re going to be a virgin forever at this rate.”
“You’re a virgin, too!” Eddie hissed, trying to not alert the entire Hawkins student body to the embarrassing truth about both of them. “So don’t act like you’ve got shit figured out, or even know the first thing about women.”
“You’re being testy because I interrupted your ass-staring time. Got it, won’t do it again.” Gareth pushed off the lockers. “You cool off, and I’ll see you in the cafeteria.”
Eddie grabbed his metal lunchbox and slammed his locker shut. He pushed his wild curls out of his face as he walked to the cafeteria. Sure enough, you were already in there, sitting at the middle table with your friend group, Hawkins royalty.
He tried his best not to stare while he walked to the Hellfire table. He was the last one there - Mike and Dustin worked on their character sheets, while Gareth, Jeff, and Grant were laughing loudly about something. Eddie took his seat at the head of the table. He flipped his lunchbox open, taking out the sandwich sitting amongst the weed, rolling paper, and cigarettes.
“About time you made it in here,” Jeff said, watching Eddie take a bite of his ham sandwich. Eddie looked irritated, chewing his food and avoiding eye contact with anyone.
“He was too busy staring at you-know-who,” Gareth snorted.
“Big surprise,” Grant muttered.
“Who?” Dustin asked. “Who are you talking about?”
Gareth happily got the first syllable of your name out before Eddie cut him off. “Dude, shut the fuck up.”
But he had said enough for the boys to put the pieces together. “Carver?” Mike asked. “Jason’s sister?”
“Oh, dude,” Dustin said.
“Thanks, Gare,” Eddie sighed, rubbing his hands over his face.
“Oh yeah,” Gareth said, ignoring Eddie. “He’s been obsessed with her for as long as I can remember. You should see when they have class together. Oh, and today’s his favorite day, because every other Friday she-“
“Gareth, shut up!” Eddie snapped. “Fuck, come on, man.”
“Well, that’s just a waste of time,” Dustin said, as if he were surprised his DM would be obsessed with you. You weren’t exactly what he’d imagine to be Eddie’s type - although, you were kind of everybody’s type.
“Oh, he knows,” Gareth said. “He’s just that whipped. Totally wrapped around her perfectly manicured finger. And she barely even knows who he is.”
“She knows who I am,” Eddie grumbled.
“Only because you sell her and her friends drugs,” Jeff commented.
Eddie didn’t say anything. He wasn’t so sure Jeff was wrong, although he didn’t want to admit it to himself. He knew he didn’t have a chance in hell with you, sure, but you were friendly at least, right?
He was grateful when the conversation eventually moved back to DND. They had a big campaign tonight, but his head just wasn’t in it - he’d be seeing you first and that was all he could think about.
He watched you from across the cafeteria - the way you’d cover your mouth when you laughed at something one of your idiot friends said, the beautiful smile that stayed on your face all the time - the way that asshole Harrington put his arm around you. He was pretty sure you weren’t even together anymore - yes, he kept up with things like that.
Only when it came to you, though.
He tried to avert his eyes. He looked down at the sandwich he was nibbling on, trying to focus on the DND conversation happening around him.
And he counted down the hours until 3:30.
Eddie sat at the picnic table in the clearing of the woods behind the school. His head rested on his hand, the fingers of his other hand tapping against the metal of his lunchbox. He was early - maybe a little too eager.
The sound of giggles from amongst the trees made him snap his head up, watching. His heart beat faster, pounding against the wall of his chest. His stomach was in knots.
The sound of footsteps on the leaves. More giggling, a conversation too low for Eddie to properly hear it. Then, finally - you, Carol, and Tina walked out of the tree line, not even looking in his direction yet. He sat up straighter, adjusted his curls, then decided to stand. He was nervous - he always got flustered.
“Well well, good afternoon, ladies,” Eddie greeted, putting on his usual confident smile and sauntering around the table. “What can I do you for today?”
The three of you looked at him. Carol and Tina scrunched their noses up, looking at him like he was less than human, but he didn’t even notice. He was too busy looking at the way your lips spread into a smile, the way the sun caught your eyes and made them sparkle.
“Hey, Eddie,” you said, and his stomach did flips at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. “Just the usual.”
He bowed his head. “You got it. Anything for the prettiest girl in Hawkins.” He flipped open his lunchbox with a flourish, pulling out the ounce of weed he’d already weighed and bagged in preparation of this meeting.
You giggled, hand fiddling with your gold cross necklace. Eddie’s eyes dropped down with the motion, letting them linger on your tits. You didn’t miss it.
“How’s the band?” you asked, crossing one foot in front of the other.
“Oh, you know, making it big,” Eddie said, dangling the baggie from his hand. “All five of our fans are loving our new stuff.”
You laughed again, walking around to the table. Carol and Tina lingered off to the side while you hopped up - tits bouncing in your top - onto the picnic table, sitting on the edge, legs swinging. Eddie swallowed hard.
“Maybe I’ll have to come see you sometime,” you said. You subtly - intentionally - let your legs fall open a little, allowing Eddie the slightest glimpse of your panties. You had worn your cutest pink set just for him.
Eddie’s heart banged even harder against his chest, first at your words and then as his eyes dropped down. Fuck. He forgot to respond at first, brain short circuiting at the sight - oblivious to Carol and Tina laughing behind him.
“Oh, uh, yeah, definitely,” he said once he’d remembered it was his turn to speak. “I, uh…yeah. At The Hideout, Tuesday nights. You should definitely come.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” You tilted your head with a smile - crossing your legs. Show over. Just a tease. “How much do we owe you?”
“20 for the ounce?” he offered, finally meeting your eyes again. “That’s 50% off. You’re robbing me blind, sweetheart.”
“Aw, Eddie,” you cooed, hopping off the table. “You’re so sweet. What would we do without you?”
Eddie was blushing hard, feeling more flustered than he usually did - you usually weren’t this flirty. “I, uh- I don’t- I mean yeah, of course, it’s no problem. Not for you, princess.”
You handed out the 20 dollar bill while Eddie offered up the baggie of weed. Your fingers brushed together - yours were so soft, so smooth, and you smelled like strawberries - and he felt electricity all the way up his arm. He almost jolted away from you, but kept his composure somehow.
“Thank you, Eddie,” you purred, and the sound of you saying his name again had his cock throbbing in his pants. “I appreciate it.”
“Of course,” he said, lost in your eyes. You were standing so close he couldn’t think straight. “Any time. Seriously, just, uh…say the word.”
“I will.” Fuck, were you flirting? You handed the weed off to Carol, who stuffed it in her purse. “You should come to a game sometime.”
Eddie couldn’t even think straight. It took him an embarrassingly long time to respond. “Oh, yeah, definitely. I-I love basketball. I love…” he mimed cheerleading, or at least the most basic pom-pom waving kind. “What you do is cool.”
You giggled again. “Cool. I’ll see you there one of these days, right?”
“Oh, yeah, for sure,” Eddie nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. Of course.” He stuffed the 20 in his pocket, wondering if he should cancel Hellfire tonight to watch you cheer. He thought Gareth, Jeff, and Grant might actually kill him.
“Good. I’ve got to get ready for the game, but…” You stepped closer to him, like right up against him. He gulped. “Thank you, Eddie. You’re always so sweet.”
You stood on your toes in your perfect white sneakers and kissed him on the cheek.
Eddie was frozen. He didn’t know what to do. He was helpless as he watched the three of you leave, linking arms and giggling to each other. Eddie felt like he’d just run a few miles - his heart was racing, breathing ragged. He collapsed onto the bench of the picnic table.
And tried to think of how to get out of Hellfire tonight.
You pulled your hair up into a high pony, tightening the green and yellow bow. You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time - then reached for your makeup bag, applying more concealer over the bruise attempting to show through your foundation.
“Oh my god, is that a handprint?” Chrissy asked, completely scandalized, her eyes wide. “Who did that to you?”
You glanced over at her briefly - Chrissy was a sweet girl, but she was also very naive. “No, it’s nothing. Just, uh…wore my seatbelt too tight.”
The excuse didn’t even make any sense, but Chrissy just looked at you strangely before dropping the subject. You wanted to tell her to relax, tell her that Steve just likes it rough, but you didn’t think that would make her feel much better.
You finished up with your makeup, then stuffed your bag into your locker along with your change of clothes. With one last adjustment of your uniform, you left the locker room with your team, ready to cheer your heart out.
On the other side of the school, Eddie took his throne for Hellfire. The guys sat around the table, already set up for the campaign. The room was filled with excited chatter - the guys were itching to see what Eddie had in store for them, and Eddie was ready to put his friends’ characters through it.
As the game went on, though, Eddie found himself distracted. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, how you were here in the school with him, doing your little flips and jumps and routines. He could be watching that right now, seeing beneath your skirt every time you did a toe touch.
He even stumbled over his words a few times, dropping character when he thought too hard about that thing you do where you lift your leg high in the air. The guys definitely noticed he was off his game, and he was sure they knew why.
When Hellfire ended, the game was still going on, just nearing the end. While all his friends left the school together, Eddie lingered behind with the excuse of cleaning up the drama room.
It only took him a few minutes to put all his DND stuff away. When he was done, backpack over his shoulder, he left the room - and followed the sound of cheering, as if succumbing to the call of a siren.
He opened the gym door just a little, peeking inside. Hawkins was in the lead, by a lot. He didn’t really care about that. What he cared about was the cheerleading captain, currently being tossed high in the air by your teammates. Your skirt flew up as you flipped in the air, giving him the perfect view of your even more perfect ass, before you landed perfectly in the arms of the other girls.
He loved watching you cheer. There was something so hot about it - he wanted to choose to believe it wasn’t just the skirt or your ass. He was impressed by the skill, the athleticism, impressed with you. He willed you to see him, give him a smile and a cute little wave, but of course you had no idea he was there. When you did another jump, he looked down between your legs - seeing the black panties you wore underneath. His cock started to fill out, and-
Wait.
You had been wearing pink panties before. He remembered because he’d committed it to memory. That means you changed, which means - your clothes were in the locker room.
The idea struck Eddie hard, like a ball of lightning. Then, the shame at even thinking it. But…
He let the gym door fall closed as he turned around and began speed walking down the hallway. His heart was racing - was he really about to do this? This was crossing a line he hadn’t crossed before. He felt a little disgusted at himself, but…also excited. This was thrilling.
He rounded the corner and came face to face with the door to the women’s locker room. He looked around - the hallway was completely deserted. No one would be coming around until the game was over. He had a few minutes.
He pushed the door open and slid inside.
The women’s locker room was much different than the men’s. For one thing, it didn’t smell like sweat and gym socks. The smell was intoxicating, a mix of fruity and floral scents. He could even make out your signature perfume in the sensory overload - and it made his cock twitch.
It wasn’t hard to find your locker. Everyone’s locker had their initials on it for one, but yours was also covered with photos. You with Carol and Tina, you with Heather Holloway, you with the cheer team - you and Steve. The latter made his stomach clench.
He opened the locker, pleased to find it unlocked. Inside, you had all kinds of stuff - clothes, shower stuff, body care, lotions and perfumes and a hairbrush. He looked at it all, feeling a familiar kind of longing. He picked up the shampoo and conditioner bottles, then the lotions, giving them all a smell and committing them to memory. One of the lotions had seen much more use than the others - he smelled that one, and groaned. That was your signature scent.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he shoved the lotion bottle in his backpack.
He looked through your locker some more. There were an absurd amount of notes, folded in perfect little squares and kept in a pencil box. Just notes passed back and forth with your friends, some with Steve - Meet me in the locker room. Come over tonight, my parents aren’t home. Quickie before practice? Eddie resisted the urge to throw those away.
A pink duffel bag sat on the bottom shelf. Eddie took it, unzipping it - score.
Your clothes were inside - with those pretty pink panties right on top. Slowly, tentatively, as if he might talk some sense into himself, he reached for the panties. They were soft, baby pink with a bow in the front and lace around the hem. He held them like he couldn’t believe they were real.
Then he brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply.
Fuck. Eddie couldn’t help it - he moaned, loud. He was painfully hard in his jeans now, and he dropped his free hand, palming himself over the denim.
Somewhere, a door slammed.
He snapped out of it. Panic struck into his chest at the sound, remembering where he was and what he was doing. He quickly shoved the panties into his pocket, closing your bag and putting everything back in the locker.
He walked to the door in quick strides of his long legs. Peeking out the door to make sure no one was around first, he slipped out of the locker room and started nearly running to the exit of the school, headed for his van.
He couldn’t wait to get home.
You rolled up to Steve’s house with Jason and Chrissy. You felt like the third wheel, sitting in the backseat - but it made more sense than having Carol come pick you up when your brother was going anyway.
You had changed out of your uniform after the game, searching your closet for a good 30 minutes before coming up with a large brown sweater and a tiny little black skirt.
Inside the house, the music was pumping so loud the walls were shaking. The large downstairs was packed full of people, talking, drinking, dancing. You left Jason and Chrissy immediately, pushing through to head straight for the kitchen.
You grinned at your best friends, who practically squealed when they saw you even though you’d only been apart for about an hour. Carol, Tina, and Heather pulled you into their orbit - one of them. They scooped you a cup full of spiked punch. You sipped it - fuck, Steve always made his punch way too fucking strong.
“Yeah, it’s a lot,” Heather laughed as you made a face, the alcohol burning on the way down.
“Steve’s looking for you, by the way,” Tina said, giving you a smirk. “Said when I see you to tell you to meet him out back.”
You rolled your eyes. Of course he was. But for some reason, you could never resist Steve. It’s not even that you loved him, or had particularly strong feelings for him…he just always got what he wanted.
“I think I need to be a little more drunk first.” You downed your first drink - to the shocked expressions of your friends - and immediately poured yourself another.
“Be careful,” Carol whispered against your ear, leaning close to you so you could hear her over the music. “Don’t get so drunk you let him take advantage of you again.”
Your heart clenched - you knew Carol cared about you. Sometimes you forgot just how Steve treated you, and that others noticed. Even Jason had told you to stop dating Steve - that he was no good for you. But you always had to do the opposite of whatever Jason said - it was like a personal challenge.
You put it off for a while, laughing with your friends as you finished a couple cups of punch. You knew Steve would be mad if you just ignored him, so you finished off your third drink, refilled your cup, then said goodbye to your friends and headed for the backyard.
It wasn’t hard to find Steve. He was always surrounded by a group of adoring people, hanging on to every word he said. Tonight was no different. King Steve held court off to the side of the pool, flashing that charming smile to the girls giggling at every word he said. You rolled your eyes.
As you stomped over, you caught the attention of the group. They parted for you as if out of a deep respect, the guys looking at you wide eyed while the girls gave you dirty looks with whispers of I thought they broke up?. Steve, oblivious - or apathetic - to it all, curled his lips into a pleased grin.
“About time,” he said, holding an arm out for you. You took your place under it. “I was beginning to think you’d stood me up.”
“Never,” you said - an honest answer. You noticed he still had obvious hickies in his neck, but he’d cleaned off the lipstick stains in the shower after the game.
Steve squeezed your shoulder. He leaned over and brushed his lips against your ear. “Wanna go upstairs with me, baby?”
Your skin tingled, like static electricity in your bloodstream. You were a little unsteady on your feet, letting Steve hold you up. “Okay.”
Steve led you upstairs, letting you lean on him as he helped you. You could tell he was a little drunk, too - but you had so much to drink so fast, you were in slightly worse shape.
He opened the door to his bedroom and you let yourself into the familiar space, flopping down on his bed. You were exhausted from the day - school, cheering, now this. You were ready to curl up and go to sleep.
Steve crawled onto the bed next to you. His hand rested on your hip as he leaned down and kissed you, slowly at first, then hungrier. He parted your lips, licking into your mouth. His hips were rutting against you, hard cock rubbing against your bare thigh.
“God, I want you,” he breathed, moving on top of you. He pressed his hips against your core, aching dick throbbing as he let out a shuddering, needy breath.
“Want you too, Stevie,” you mumbled. His familiar body on top of you had you coming alive, soaking your panties.
He sat up and pulled his shirt off quickly, then yours. He urgently worked his belt open, chest heaving as he looked down at you. You traced your hand through his chest hair, feeling the firm muscles of his chest and abdomen. They twitched beneath your touch.
With his jeans and boxers shoved down to his thighs, his hard cock bobbing at his lower stomach, he reached beneath your skirt to pull your panties off.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he leaned forward, mouthing at your tits. “Shit, you’re so hot. So fucking hot, baby.” He rocked his hips forward, cock tracing through your folds. He groaned at the feeling of your wetness, the way it coated his shaft as he thrusted back and forth.
He hooked his arms under your thighs, pushing them up against your chest. He nudged his thick cockhead against your entrance, pushing just barely inside. You whined at the stretch - although you were used to taking Steve’s dick by now.
He fucked his cock in further, adding another inch with every thrust. You arched your back, crying out at the pressure of him stretching you. Steve was actually huge - he’d had plenty of experiences with girls where he couldn’t even get it in - so it could be uncomfortable, but god, once you got used to it? It was incredible.
“Almost in, baby,” he mumbled soothing words against your cheek. “Almost in you, just a little bit more. You can take it, you always do.”
He was right - you always did.
You let out a shuddering breath as Steve pushed the remaining few inches into you with a groan. His fists tightened in the sheets, then he was pulling back and pounding into you.
You whined, pulling on Steve’s hair while he fucked into you. He wrapped his arms around your body, hugging you close to him and hiding his face in your neck while he bucked his hips.
“So, so good, baby,” he praised, voice muffled against your skin. “Making me feel so good, taking this dick like that. God you’re such a slut, you always take it-“
He cut himself off with a loud moan as you tightened around him, shutting him up. As annoying as he could be, his - glorious - cock was fucking you just right, pressing against your bundle of nerves with every balls-deep thrust.
You could feel the coil tightening, your spine prickling with electricity. Oh fuck, you suddenly remembered why you kept sleeping with Steve.
You were so close, so close-
“Fuck- shit, I’m cumming,” Steve cried, and before you could beg him no, no, just a little longer, he was grabbing onto your thigh, squeezing as he grunted with his release, cum coating your velvety walls.
You had to say, you were disappointed but not surprised. Steve only cared if you came about half the time, and it looked like tonight was not one of those lucky nights.
“Are you serious?” you said, pushing his sweaty body off of you. He rolled onto the mattress next to you, running his hands through his slightly wet hair.
“I’m sorry, baby. You just felt so good.” Steve winked and smirked at you, looking like he wasn’t all that sorry at all.
You rolled your eyes, sitting up and reaching for your clothes. You pulled your panties and shirt back on, tossing Steve his shirt. He was pulling his jeans and boxers back up, but seemed in no hurry to replace his shirt and get back to the party.
“You’re a dick,” you mumbled. You felt angry - you felt used. Steve always made you feel used.
“Don’t be like that, baby,” he cooed, but he was still smiling like he found the whole situation funny. “You know how I feel about you. You know you’re my favorite girl.”
You weren’t having it. “Where’s the Plan B money?”
Steve frowned. “My wallet’s on the desk.”
You walked over to the desk sitting against the wall, seeing Steve’s expensive leather wallet laying on top. You flipped it open and plucked out the bills to cover the emergency contraceptive.
“Baby, seriously. Don’t be like this.” Steve was giving minimal effort, but he beckoned you back to the bed, as if you would listen to whatever he asked.
You threw open his bedroom door. A few people in the hallway turned to look, seeing you leaving, disheveled with a shirtless Steve on the bed - and immediately started whispering. You didn’t care right now.
You slammed Steve’s door behind you, pushing past the party goers and going back downstairs. Maybe Jason would take you home, or even Carol. Someone would, and you were going to ask everyone until you got a ride.
All you knew is you couldn’t stand to be at this party for another second.
Eddie had rushed home, speeding even faster than he usually did. His heart wouldn’t stop pounding - he felt like he had a big, incredible secret. The panties sitting in his pocket might as well have weighed 50 pounds. He couldn’t stop thinking about them and what he’d done.
He was relieved to see Wayne gone when he got home. He didn’t want to be interrupted.
He locked up behind himself before heading straight for his room - fuck eating, he couldn’t wait another second. He was already half hard as he pulled his shirt off, then reached for the joint he’d rolled earlier.
Sparking up the joint, he placed the roll between his lips, taking a deep inhale. The smoke traveled down into his lungs, filling his body with a deep contentment.
He laid on the bed with his joint still propped in his mouth. He undid his belt and shoved his jeans and boxers down in record time - he was already so worked up, and the weed was only going to make his orgasm even better.
Eddie pulled out the lotion and your panties - and he paused. Was he really going to do this? This was a level of creep he hadn’t reached yet. He could go back - he could sneak your stuff back in your locker Monday - hell, he could even throw them away and pretend this never happened.
His cock was throbbing, already fully hard as he held the soft panties in his hand. He clenched and unclenched his fist around them, fighting with himself - could he forgive himself for this?
He brought the panties up to his nose and inhaled. His cock twitched, and he couldn’t help it - he wrapped his hand around himself, twisting his hand around his shaft as he breathed in the smell of you.
And fuck, you smelled just as good as he imagined. Better, even. He imagined his face was buried in your pussy, the real thing - fuck, he would do anything. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he made you cum harder than you ever had. It’s only what you deserved.
Eddie rubbed the panties against his aching cock, jolting from the sensation of the rough lace against his sensitive dick. He let out a little huff of smoke - his heart was beating out of his chest - and wrapped the panties around his shaft. Slowly, he stroked his cock with them, breathing shakily.
The joint slipped from his lips and fell on the bed. “Shit,” he cursed, picking it up and dropping it in his ashtray. He was already plenty high, and all he wanted now was to get off to the thought of you.
He reached into his bedside table and pulled out the yearbook. It was a surprise the pages weren’t stuck together at this rate. He flipped straight to the dog eared page, letting out a groan at the sight of you.
“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispered to your picture as he stroked himself faster. “Fuck. Did you wear these just for me today? Did you know how fucking crazy it would drive me?”
When the material of the panties started to get uncomfortable rubbing against his cock - too sensitive - he put the book down and grabbed your bottle of lotion. He closed his eyes as he opened the top and smelled it again - he could almost picture you were right here.
He put some in the palm of his right hand. Then, he wrapped his hand around his cock, moaning as the cool lotion coated his shaft. He could smell the scent so clearly - it made it even easier to think about you.
He picked the yearbook back up with his left hand, jerking himself faster - his hand was moving quickly with the help of the lotion. He let out a shuddering moan - fuck, it felt so good. His dick was rock hard in his hand, almost painfully so. He just got so worked up at school all day having to see you, especially when he got to talk to you, too. He always came home aching.
“Yeah, baby,” he rasped to your picture. The slick sound of his hand on his cock was filling the room - he could almost imagine it was the sound of your wet pussy, taking him deep and fast. “D’you like when I’m this hard for you? You wanna feel me deep inside your little cunt?”
Eddie’s body was shaking with the intensity of his building orgasm. He looked at your ass and legs in the photo and pictured you in your uniform with no panties underneath, bouncing on his cock.
Or maybe he’d bend you in half, let you show him just how flexible you are. He’d spread your legs wide, watching his cock disappearing into that tight cunt. His hips bucked up into his fist.
“Christ, baby,” Eddie groaned. “You’d be so good, I know you would. You’d let me worship you, let me taste your pussy, get my cock inside you - oh fuck - is that what you want, baby? God, you get me so fucking worked up-“
He was squeezing his cock with every upstroke, rubbing his thumb over the slit, tracing the vein on the underside of his shaft. It was your hand he pictured on him - smaller, softer than his own. So fucking soft, so you-
Eddie whimpered your name as if on instinct. He called out for you, throwing his head back with little “Ah ah ah”s as he brought himself higher and higher. He could feel that familiar feeling creeping up his spine, making his muscles clench. He cupped his balls in his hand, massaging them for a moment before going back to his needy cock.
He repeated your name over and over. “That’s it, that’s it. Good girl, so good for me. So fucking beautiful. Take this big cock, sweetheart, let me fuck that pretty pussy - fuck fuck fuck-“
His hand was moving rapidly up and down his cock now, precum leaking from the tip and mixing with your lotion. Your panties were on his chest, close enough that he could see them, bringing them to his nose to smell them. He locked eyes with your photo, imagining you were here begging for his cum, begging him to finish for you.
“You want my cum?” he whispered. “I’ll give it to you, baby. Gonna cum so hard, all for you. ‘m so close, baby, just- fuck- just a little more, almost fuckin’ there-“
His skin was tingling, body trembling, heart pounding. He twisted his hand around his cock faster, and oh god oh god-
Repeating your name like a desperate prayer, his cum shot out onto his stomach and hand, a seemingly endless amount. Fuck, he never used to cum this much before he started jerking off to you - it was like you drained everything out of him. He kept pumping his fist as he groaned, wringing out the last of his orgasm, dick pulsing in his hand as the final drops of his cum beaded at the tip, sliding down his shaft.
Eddie’s chest heaved with his breathing. He slowly removed his hand from his sticky, softening cock, looking around for something to clean up with - fuck, he might as well go get in the shower. He sighed, forcing his weary body up and off the bed. His post-nut shame was creeping in, and he needed to go wash all this away before he started really hating himself.
He threw the yearbook back in his drawer, grabbed a change of clothes, and went into the hall bathroom. He got the water started then washed his hands off in the sink, his shame disappearing down the drain. He thought briefly, again, of you, and what you’d think of him if you knew what he did.
He tried to push those thoughts away as he climbed in under the hot water. He didn’t want to think about you being upset with him - he only wanted to think of you in this shower with him, kissing your soft lips and tangling his hands in your hair.
Eddie was trying to be innocent for once, he swears, but then his mental image of you smirked at him and dropped to her knees, and-
Eddie Munson was so fucked.
Eddie tried to go about life normally, but it was hard knowing what he’d done - and what he’d continue to do - every night alone in his bedroom. The panties and lotion found their home in a box in his closet he only pulled out when he was desperate for you - which was often.
It was hard to look you in the eyes after that night. When he saw you again Monday morning, he had averted his gaze, stared at your ass instead. Also not entirely unusual, but he wasn’t prepared for the guilt he’d feel around you.
He watched you throughout English class. Today you were wearing jeans that hugged your body just right, a cute little striped shirt that spread tight across your tits. God, Eddie, did you always have to be such a perv? Why couldn’t he talk about how pretty your eyes were, or how you always put together the most flattering outfits? How you had the best style of any girl in school - not just boring preppy Gap bullshit, but some personality in your look?
Eddie could have gone on and on about the things he liked about you, because yes, believe it or not, it was much more than just your body that had him obsessed. Much more. You were somehow the most popular girl in Hawkins, Jason Carver’s sister, and the coolest girl he’d ever met.
He hardly even realized class had passed him by as the bell rang and everyone started to stand, gathering their things. Eddie snapped out of his daydream and grabbed his own stuff, waiting for the perfect time to leave right behind you. When you and Carol stood, he knew it was his time.
Fuck, you looked even better in those jeans than he’d realized. His mouth watered, he longed to reach out and touch you.
“I can’t believe him,” Carol said quietly to you, and Eddie strained to hear the whispered conversation.
“I can,” you shrugged. “He’s always been…selfish.”
Who were you talking about?
“You need to stop sleeping with him,” Carol said. Eddie’s stomach clenched at the words - Steve. You were talking about Steve. “He’s no good for you. And you know he’s already told Tommy and all the guys about Friday night?”
“I’m sure he left out the part where he finished in a couple minutes and didn’t return the favor.”
Eddie almost laughed. The idea of you sleeping with someone else always made him upset - but that was nothing compared to the anger he felt over Steve running his mouth about you to the whole school.
He lost the two of you quicker than he would have liked in the bustle of the lunchtime rush. He looked around for you, hoping to spot the top of your head somewhere, but ultimately gave up and headed for the cafeteria.
Jason, Patrick, Andy, and Chance walked down the hall in the other direction, talking to each other. Eddie attempted to pretend they didn’t exist, as usual, but as they passed each other Jason reached out, knocking Eddie’s books out of his hands.
“Sorry, freak,” Jason quipped, high fiving Patrick as the other guys laughed, still walking away.
Eddie took a deep breath, then he bent over and picked up his books. He would never understand how you and Jason were twins.
You and Carol were standing in the lunch line together when Eddie got into the cafeteria, still talking. He thought about joining the line with you - buy himself a cookie or something - but the guys were already watching him from their table. He looked at you one last time, reluctantly tearing his eyes away as he made his way to his usual seat.
“What, not gonna follow Carver into the lunch line to stare at her ass some more?” Gareth teased, and Eddie hated how obvious he must have been.
“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie muttered. He flipped his lunchbox open, reaching for the bag of chips he’d packed. His fingers itched for a cigarette instead.
“I just can’t believe it’s Carver that Eddie’s obsessed with,” Dustin said. “Like…that’s not what I imagined your type to be whatsoever.”
Eddie shrugged. He wanted to list out all the reasons why he liked you so much, why he needed you so badly, but he knew that wouldn’t make things any better.
“Yeah, it makes no sense,” Gareth said, poking at his mac and cheese. “Like, yeah she’s hot as hell, but she’s also a Carver. Ms. Stuck up Queen of Hawkins.”
“Come on Gareth, be nice,” Jeff scolded. Then, a raised eyebrow - “but really Eddie? Her?”
“She’s-“ he almost started, almost outed himself as being even more head over heels in love with you than they already knew, but recognized the bait before he did. “She’s nice.”
“Sure,” Grant said.
Eddie didn’t want to talk about the subject anymore. You were his, and he didn’t want to explain himself to his friends. He knew every guy at this table had been interested in you at some point or another, and he wasn’t about to reignite any old crushes.
In fact, Eddie more or less ignored his friends for the rest of lunch. The guys were coming over to his place tonight to talk the next campaign and pass a blunt around, and Eddie felt that was plenty interaction with them in one day.
After school, Eddie made a pit stop at Rick’s to pick up his supply. Rick was happy to see him, as usual, and he found himself pulled into a 30 minute conversation on government surveillance.
By the time he made it to the trailer, Jeff’s car was already sitting out front, the three of them waiting for Eddie. They climbed out as Eddie walked up the steps to unlock the front door.
“About time,” Gareth complained. “What, did you follow Carver home to peek through her windows first?”
“Ha, ha,” Eddie said sarcastically. He pushed the front door open and walked inside, letting his friends follow behind him.
The guys followed down the hall to Eddie’s cramped bedroom. While Eddie opened his stash box to pull out the blunt he’d rolled earlier, they found a place to sit. Then-
“Eddie, are you fucking kidding?” Gareth asked.
Eddie froze. He turned around slowly - finding Gareth standing next to the bed, holding your panties. His stomach dropped to his feet.
“Uh, what are those?” Jeff asked, brows furrowed in confusion. He leaned in for a closer look - yeah, those were definitely panties.
“Are these what I think they are?” Gareth asked, his voice rising.
“Uh- no, I mean-“
“What are you talking about?” Grant asked, confused, feeling like he was out of the loop. He didn’t connect the dots, until-
“You stole her panties?” Gareth choked out. “How did you- Eddie, what the fuck-“
Eddie snatched the panties from Gareth’s hand quickly, tossing them into the bedside drawer for now. Gareth watched - spotting the well-loved yearbook laying inside. “Dude, is that your jerk off drawer?”
Eddie’s face was bright red. “Gareth. Shut the fuck up.”
“Oh my god,” Jeff said, looking between Eddie and Gareth. “You are obsessed with her.”
“Those aren’t hers!” Eddie said quickly, frantically trying to come up with an excuse. “They’re…you know, probably got mixed up with my clothes at the laundromat, it happens sometimes-“
“So you just kept some stranger’s panties?” Gareth asked with his eyebrows raised, not believing a word out of Eddie’s mouth.
Eddie sighed. That was worse, wasn’t it? “Okay, they’re hers. But I’m not- I didn’t- look, they were there, and-“
Gareth held up his hand. “I don’t want to hear any more about your obsession with Carver. Whatever illegal creepy pervert shit you did to get those, I don’t wanna know. Let’s just smoke this blunt and talk about the campaign.”
Eddie was relieved the topic was changing, but his cheeks were still bright red, shame clinging to his skin like too-small clothes. He knew his friends thought his obsession was ridiculous. He knew it was ridiculous. But he couldn’t help himself. You were you, and you were everything.
He sparked up the blunt, took the first drag, and let his worries fade away for the night.
Your teammates lifted you into the air. This was your favorite part of cheerleading - the rush of flying. You were lifted high with a spin, straight into a cupie. You held it for a few seconds, then grabbed your foot and lifted your leg, holding it straight up as you crossed your arm in front - a perfect bow and arrow. The girls tossed you up and into a perfectly executed basket toss, catching you and sitting you safely on the ground.
“Excellent, Carver!” Coach Mills yelled from her spot on the sidelines. “Absolutely beautiful.”
Your heart was pounding, adrenaline coursing through your veins, but you beamed with pride. Landing a stunt was the best feeling, every time.
You were completely oblivious to Eddie watching from the sidelines. He was leaning against the fence, eyes locked on you and only you. He didn’t watch practice often, but when he could…
God, you were so good. It wasn’t even the glimpses up your skirt he got when you did tricks that made it so enthralling - you were genuinely really good at what you did. Eddie had always imagined cheerleading as waving pom poms around on the sidelines of a basketball game, but your competition routines were on a whole other level.
He watched the rest of practice, his heart slamming against his chest every time your teammates threw you in the air. He had to admit it scared him a little - he didn’t know how you did it.
After practice, you walked up the bleachers, laughing and talking with your teammates. Eddie watched, the way you had your leg up on the seat, bending over to retie your shoe.
He rushed under the bleachers.
It didn’t hurt just to take a little peek, right? He crept underneath the metal stands, until he was right beneath where you and your friends stood. He looked up and saw directly up your skirt - your pretty light blue panties on full display.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away, locked in on the thin fabric covering your pretty pussy, the delicious curve of your ass. His jeans grew tighter, the zipper uncomfortable against his cock.
“I’m going to shower before everyone else uses all the hot water,” your friend - Sarah? Lauren? - said, picking up her gym bag. “You coming?”
“You can go ahead,” you said. “I like waiting until everyone’s gone. It’s peaceful.”
Your friend shrugged her shoulders. “Suit yourself.”
The words you’d just said bounced around in Eddie’s head. You like waiting until everyone’s gone. That means you’d be in the locker room, showering - alone.
He knew this was too far. He knew he was seriously crossing boundaries this time - shit, was this illegal? - but fuck, the way his cock throbbed in his jeans at the mere thought, the possibility.
He rushed back into the school. His heart was racing, pounding in his ears. He lingered around the corner in the hallway leading to the women’s locker room. It was loud inside - he could hear the cheerleaders talking and giggling as they showered and changed.
And Eddie waited.
The entire time he waited, he questioned himself. Multiple times he almost left, talking some sense into his own brain and going home. Grabbing the yearbook and the panties and lotion and rubbing one out. But the promise of seeing more…
He waited until the girls started filing out of the locker room, not paying him any mind as he leaned against the wall pretending to read his book for English he hadn’t even started yet. He gave it a little bit after the last girls left, wanting to make sure no one was still in there but being cautious not to wait so long that you showed up before he could go in.
This had to be timed perfectly.
When he felt like the coast might be clear, he crept over to the door. He opened it just a few inches, listening carefully. He didn’t hear anything at all.
“…Hello?” he called, lowering his voice an octave in an attempt to not sound like himself in case someone was still in there.
He got no response. Satisfied and with adrenaline coursing through his body, he snuck inside the locker room.
It was deserted. Eddie let out a breath in relief - so far so good. He realized he hadn’t exactly planned this far - what was he supposed to do now? He looked around for a hiding space that would let him see you, and then - jackpot. An out-of-order shower stall.
He slipped inside the shower, closing the curtain tightly. He took a few deep breaths - okay, okay. He’d come this far, he was going to follow through with it.
God? I know you never hear from me, because I don’t believe in you, but please don’t let me get caught.
He waited even more. For a while. After a while Eddie thought about just leaving - maybe you decided to shower at home? But just as he was about to give up, reaching to open the shower curtain, the locker room door slammed shut. His stomach tied in knots - you were here.
“Come on, baby.”
Eddie froze. You weren’t alone.
“I said I’m done!” you exclaimed, sounding fed up. “The party was my limit, Steve, seriously. I’m sick of you and how you only care about yourself.”
“Baby, please. Don’t be like that.”
Eddie could practically hear the smirk in Harrington’s voice. He wanted to punch the guy. He slowly, carefully, slid the curtain to the side just an inch, peeking out.
You and Steve were perfectly in his line of view, by the sinks. You were unclipping the big green bow from your high pony, Steve leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, looking at you like something to devour.
“Don’t be like what, Steve?”
“Don’t be a fucking bitch.”
Eddie’s jaw dropped. Did Steve really talk to you like that? He almost stepped out of the showers to defend your honor, but caught himself the second he began to lift his foot off the floor. He was powerless.
“I’m not being a bitch. I’m just done with you.” You sat the bow on the counter, picking up your hairbrush and beginning to comb it through your hair.
“You know you don’t mean that.” Steve pushed himself off the counter, sauntering over behind you. He put his hands on your hips like they belonged there. His front pressed against you from behind, and he lowered his head, whispering something in your ear that Eddie couldn’t make out.
You giggled. Was this douchebag’s bullshit really working on you? Eddie clenched his fist - he fucking hated that guy.
His eyes darted down to follow the movement - Steve’s hand was trailing up your skirt. His other arm was still wrapped around your waist, his chin on your shoulder. He was whispering something to you Eddie couldn’t hear at all, but the more he said the more you leaned back into him, hairbrush forgotten on the counter as Steve’s hands slid over your body.
Then - with little warning, surprising even Eddie, Steve gripped you hard by the hips with one hand and by the hair with the other, bending you over the counter roughly. Eddie’s eyes went wide - oh shit.
“You wanna be a fucking brat?” Steve asked, lifting your cheer skirt and slapping you hard on the ass. Eddie jumped as the sound rang out loudly through the room, echoing all around. But you responded to the slap with a short moan, and holy fucking shit, that was the hottest thing Eddie had ever heard in his life.
His cock throbbed, filling out in his jeans. His heart was beating so hard he could barely hear the clinking sound of Steve urgently unbuckling his belt, undoing his jeans and pushing them down just enough to free his hard cock. Eddie hated to admit it, but Steve was huge. Maybe not quite as thick as Eddie, but…
He watched, practically drooling on the floor as Steve pulled your panties down, dropping them on the floor. He tried to get a good look at you - fuck, one look at your pussy and he could die a happy man. But he couldn’t quite see with Steve’s body in the way - which only pissed Eddie off more.
Steve rubbed his hands over the round of your ass - even more perfect with your panties off and skirt pushed up - like he was admiring it. Hell, he couldn’t blame him - Eddie would do the same.
“Why don’t you show me why they call you the King, Steve,” you taunted, pushing your ass back against his hips. Eddie’s breath hitched.
Steve hissed at the contact against his cock, then chuckled, slapping your ass one more time. “Oh, baby. I’ll have you screaming my name before you know what fuckin’ hit you.”
Steve dragged his cock through your folds, and Eddie tried to get a better look. You were a little too far away to see, too far to make out details - it frustrated him. But then Steve pushed inside of you and you whined, dropping your head forward, and Eddie’s cock twitched.
He was fully hard. As Steve pulled his hips back and began fucking into you, making you whine and moan, Eddie palmed himself over his jeans. He ignored Steve, picturing himself in his place. That only made his cock ache more, precum leaking from his tip and soaking his boxers.
He had to do something. You were right there, getting fucked, and Eddie was here to watch it.
He unbuckled his belt and slid his zipper down as slowly as possible, trying not to make a single noise. His body was buzzing with anxiety and excitement. When he got them open without alerting either of you, he reached into his boxers and started stroking himself, his rings cool against his hot skin.
Fuck. His eyes locked on where you and Steve were joined, where Steve was bucking his hips desperately, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust. He pictured his own cock disappearing inside of your pussy, how warm and wet it would feel, how you would cry and moan for him instead.
He didn’t mean to - but Eddie moaned.
His eyes went wide, hand freezing its movements. He watched you and Steve, utterly frozen in place, his blood cold.
But neither of you noticed. Steve was grabbing your ponytail now, pulling it hard so you were forced to look into the mirror at him fucking you.
“You like that?” Steve huffed. “You like watching yourself get fucked?”
Oh god.
“Yes,” you moaned, practically crying out as Steve rutted his cock into you at a brutal pace. “I love watching you fuck me.”
Oh god, oh god.
Eddie pulled his cock out and squeezed it, precum dripping from his slit. He rubbed his thumb through it, spreading it down his shaft. He was flicking his wrist quickly, his breath coming out in little huffs.
The pretty little noises coming from your mouth were making him ache like he never had. When he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was the one fucking you. He closed them for a minute, listening to your moans and gasps and whines, picturing you wrapped tight around him while he buried himself in you, making you feel so good.
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie!” you would cry instead.
Why don’t you let me show you why they call me the freak?
He opened his eyes again in time to see Steve pull you up by your hair, pulling your back flush against his chest while his other hand gripped onto your left hip. Steve roughly pulled up your cheer top and sports bra, and - oh fuck, those were your actual tits.
Eddie whimpered, his hips bucking into his fist uncontrollably. He planted his hand on the shower wall for support, twisting his hand around his cock faster and faster.
Steve ran his hand over your tits and down your body, until he reached that pretty pussy Eddie could only get the slightest glimpse of, and started rubbing quick circles against your clit. You keened, dropping your head back against his shoulder, soft lips parted in a silent gasp.
Eddie pumped his cock more aggressively, pulsing in his hand as he felt himself getting closer. His eyes were set on your tits, bouncing with every thrust from Steve - from Eddie, he pictured in his mind.
“Steve…oh god,” you whimpered, body nearly going limp in Steve’s arms. “‘m gonna cum.”
Those words coming from your mouth made Eddie nearly choke. He catalogued them in his brain for later, ready to play on repeat when he was alone and needy. He gave his cock a few quick jerks before slowing down, squeezing with the upstroke and thumbing his head. He shuddered - he was getting close, too.
“Come on, baby, make a mess all over my cock for me. Wanna feel you cum around me,” Steve encouraged, his voice raspy. God, you were all close.
You let out whimpering moans as he brought you higher and higher, the sound hotter than anything Eddie had ever heard. The quietest moan clawed its way from his throat - he couldn’t help it. He was so close and you were right there putting on such a good show, and his cock was throbbing in his hand, balls clenching tight as he was ready to blow probably the biggest load of his life.
“Oh my god, oh my god,” you cried. “I- oh fuck, oh my god-“
Eddie knew the second you came, because you cried out loudly, gasping and shaking against Steve as your orgasm crashed through you, Steve smirking and fucking you harder as he whispered praises in your ear.
The second your body seized up with pleasure, making those hot little noises, it hit Eddie like a fucking truck. His jaw dropped open and he moaned, forgetting himself, electricity shooting up his spine. He flicked his wrist faster, cumming harder than he ever had, his spend landing against the shower curtain in endless ropes. He worked himself through it, working every last bit of cum out of his dick until there was nothing left.
He opened his eyes again just in time to see Steve with you bent over the counter again, pounding hard into you from behind - until he groaned, loud, stilling as he came inside you. Fuck, you let him cum inside?
Steve pulled out of you, and Eddie could see his cum dripping down your inner thigh. Holy fucking shit. That image was getting filed away in his brain, too.
“Knew you’d come back,” Steve laughed cockily, tucking himself away and redoing his jeans. He had that stupid fucking smirk on his face that pissed Eddie off so bad every time it was directed at you.
“I wouldn’t say that,” you mumbled. You pulled your top and sports bra over your head, pushed your skirt to the floor. “I was horny and you asked.”
“Sure, baby,” Steve smirked. He ran his hand over your ass again. “Just remember all this belongs to me. And everyone knows it.”
“I’m going to take a shower.” You ignored him, grabbing your bag and heading for the showers. Eddie backed up away from the curtain, afraid you’d see him through the crack.
“Want me to join you?” he asked, but he was already picking up his backpack.
“Go home, Harrington.”
Steve just laughed. He slung his bag over his shoulder and left, letting the door fall closed behind him. He heard the shower start a few stalls down, and he let out a deep breath.
He had to clean up the cum on the curtain, he realized. Fuck. He looked all around before spotting a dirty towel, wiping his mess off the curtain and throwing the towel back in the dirty laundry.
Eddie snuck out of the shower stall and through the locker room. He didn’t relax a single bit until he was out of the locker room and safely down the hall, pushing the exit doors open and speed walking to his van.
Had he taken it too far?
But shit, that was worth it.
After the shower incident, Eddie made himself take a step back.
The post nut clarity had hit him hard after, like a punch to the face. He had taken it too far. Imagine if you knew what he’d done - he’d be even more of a Hawkins pariah than he already was. That didn’t bother him as much as the thought that you’d hate him.
He tried to stop thinking about you, he really did. He didn’t open the yearbook or stick his hand down his pants for 3 days. That was pretty much a record.
But you made it so hard. Just by existing, by being in the vicinity, Eddie could never think about anything else. He wanted you like he’d never wanted anything, not just your body but all of you. He wanted you to be his so bad he could barely breathe.
So how was he supposed to keep it together when you were right in front of him? When you giggled with your friends with that beautiful smile on your face, those glossed lips he longed to kiss. When you performed a cheer routine and made every other girl on the team look like a total amateur. When you answered a difficult question in class that just proved you had beauty and brains. They didn’t often go hand in hand.
And when you approached him after class Thursday, he swore his heart stopped. That’s the only way you’d be approaching him outside of the normal schedule - which he knew by heart. The only explanation was that he must have died and somehow gone to heaven, and you were the angel here to greet him.
You were wearing a short denim skirt and pink sweater today, your hair styled and earrings dangling from your lobes. You could have worn a garbage bag and you would still have taken his breath away.
“Hey Eddie,” you greeted as you found him by his locker, the sweetest smile on your face. You leaned against the wall of lockers next to him, clutching your books to your chest.
“O-oh…hey,” he greeted you back, trying to look casual as he was freaking out. “What’s up?”
“I was just thinking…” You glanced over, smiling and waving back at one of the cheerleaders as she passed by. You turned your attention back to Eddie - your plush lips shined with whatever lipgloss you were wearing, and Eddie longed to taste it, lick it right off. “Are you free tonight?”
He couldn’t help it - his eyes widened, mouth parting in shock before he could mask his surprise. “Yes- um, I mean, yeah. I’m free. What for?”
“Could we maybe…meet?” You looked up at him through your eyelashes, looking like the picture of innocence - which he knew very well you were not. The contrast of your sweet expression with the girl he saw getting fucked in the school locker room sent his heart racing, cock filling out in his jeans. “Our usual spot?”
“Yeah? Yeah, of course,” he said quickly, nodding his head, curls bouncing. “3:30?”
“That’s perfect.” You smiled even bigger at him, looking like an absolute angel. “Thanks, Eddie. See you there.”
Eddie watched as you walked off, hips swaying, a million people stopping to greet or talk to you as you walked down the hall. Eddie wondered what it must be like to be popular. He wasn’t interested in it for himself, but it was a whole other world to him.
He wanted to tell the guys immediately that he was seeing you today, but thought better of it. They’d just laugh at him, ruin his excitement. This was for him - he held it close to his chest.
After school, he walked to the clearing as fast as his long legs could take him, metal lunchbox in hand. He didn’t have much on him today - he wasn’t expecting to ask to meet. Fridays were definitely his biggest days for sales, not so much the rest of the week.
He gave himself a pep talk as he trekked through the woods behind the school, ducking under branches and feet crunching on dead leaves. He thought about what he’d say - he had to be confident. He couldn’t be stuttering over his words like he had earlier. He rehearsed in his head the things he might say, over and over like he was running lines for a performance. He supposed he was.
When he reached the clearing, he sat on the edge of the picnic table. He picked up a dead leaf on the wood, fidgeting with it, tearing it apart piece by piece, crunching it between his fingers.
At the sound of footsteps, he jumped off the table, looking into the trees. He was sweating, and pretty sure he was currently having heart palpitations. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to look at you without feeling like he was being hunted for sport.
You were alone - Carol and Tina nowhere to be found, much to Eddie’s relief. You smiled at him as you walked into the clearing. Somehow you looked even more beautiful than when he had seen you earlier. You had a scratch on your knee, probably from a sharp branch brushing against you on the way here. Your foot caught on a tree root on the way to the table, and Eddie rushed forward, catching you before you could hit the ground.
“Woah,” he said, casual, although the feeling of touching you, having you in his arms, sent his heart racing. “Careful, sweetheart.”
“Thanks,” you said, your cheeks hot as you stood back up. “Embarrassing.”
“Not at all.” Eddie smiled kindly, and you realized in that moment that he had a really nice smile. A pretty smile. Eddie wasn’t a bad looking guy at all - he was cute, actually - and he was sweet, too. You found the nerdy thing to be endearing, his bad boy look enticing.
You took a seat on one side of the picnic table, so Eddie slid into the other side. He flipped open his lunchbox. “What can I help you with today, princess? I’m a little low on supply today, but I can get more from home.”
You looked around. “I had just been thinking…” You tapped your fingernails nervously on the wood, avoiding Eddie’s eyes. “I guess I was just wondering…if you have anything…stronger?”
Eddie’s eyes widened. He hadn’t been expecting that. He was shocked enough when he’d first learned that little miss Queen of Hawkins was a bit of a stoner - something that turned him on, if he was honest - but something beyond just weed?
“Um…” he thought for a second, mentally going over his supply. “I don’t have anything on me, but at the house I have some stuff. Have you ever done shrooms?”
You broke out into a grin. “No. Have you?”
“Oh yeah,” he laughed. “I, uh, have some at the house, if you want to…get some?”
You smiled even bigger. “Oh, hell yeah. That sounds amazing.” You thought for a second. “I could ride home with you after practice?”
Eddie practically choked on air at that. “Ride- home? With me? To my house?”
You laughed, although a little awkwardly. “Yeah. You did say it was at the house, right? I mean I definitely don’t have to if you don’t want me to-“
“No!” Eddie said, too fast and too loud. “No. I mean, yeah, it’s fine. You can…uh, we’ll ride to my place together after practice. I’ll hang around.”
He was never ashamed of who he was or where he came from, but the idea of you standing in his trailer made him sweat even worse. But at the same time - you in his house? In his room, even?
“Cool,” you smiled. “You can always come watch practice, y’know, if you want.”
Eddie wasn’t about to say he had watched practice multiple times already, so he just nodded. “Yeah. Okay, yeah, I’ll hang out and watch.”
You smiled even bigger. You actually looked excited at the thought of Eddie watching you practice. “Practice ends at 5, so we can go to your place then.” Something occurred to you then, your smile fading. “Will your, uh…parents be there?”
“No, I live with my uncle,” Eddie explained. “And he works nights at the plant making the big bucks, so…just us.”
You seemed relieved at that. “That must be cool, having the house to yourself all night.”
Eddie shrugged sheepishly. “It can be. I usually just get high and fuck around on my guitar until I pass out.” And, you know, jerk off to your picture with your panties and lotion. It’s not like he had any girls coming over.
Until now. This would be the first time he’d ever had a girl over, and it was you. He had to be dreaming, right?
“Sounds like a good night,” you giggled. You stood from the table, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “I have to run to practice now, but I’ll see you after?”
“Yeah, of course. Won’t let you down,” Eddie said, then felt like a total idiot. “I’ll meet you out front.”
“Sounds good.” You gave him that beautiful smile, the one that always sent him reeling. “See you then, Eddie.”
He watched you go, frozen in place. It’s like his brain short circuited every time you said his name, like he felt it was something too lowly to roll off your tongue, but it always made him ache. Once he snapped out of it, he grabbed his stuff and headed for the field.
At least he could watch you without hiding this time.
You drop your kids off with your ex husband, and think back on your life together.
Warnings:
Pregnancy, birth, drinking, drug use (weed), suggestive content, divorce
Word Count: 7k
A/N:
I’m so happy to be back and posting the first chapter of this series! I hope you enjoy! Thank you so much @feral4youu for all your help, ily ❤️
“It’s my weekend.”
You rolled your eyes over the phone. “I understand that, Eddie. Believe me, you’ve said it enough times. I’m just saying-“
“You’re trying to take 3 hours away from me.”
You had a headache coming on. You pressed your manicured fingers against your temple. “I’m not trying to take anything from you. You’re being difficult on purpose.”
“Then you should schedule your shit for your own time!”
“It’s a dentist appointment, and it’s the earliest day they had!” You threw your arm up in the air as you spoke, as if he could see you. “Do you even hear yourself right now? I’m not asking for fun, she needs to go to the dentist.”
“Why can’t I take her?”
“Uh, would you remember?” you scoffed.
“That was one time.”
“Sure,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Look, Ed. It’s kinda non-negotiable. She has to go. We can meet at 6 instead of 3.”
“Whatever.” Silence, nothing but the crackling of the phone line. “Okay. Whatever. I’ll see you at 6.”
Click.
You sighed, putting the phone back down on the receiver. Eddie could seriously be such a pain in the ass. No, scratch that, not could be - he was.
You didn’t always fight like this. At one point, you were just two high school students in love - puppy love, maybe. First love, lust at first sight, whatever you wanted to call it, you were head over heels for each other.
A positive pregnancy test at the beginning of your senior year, when you were 17 and Eddie was 19, threw everything off balance. Before, everyone knew you and Eddie would graduate and get married. They knew you were the kind of high school sweethearts that would lead to marriage - even if you didn’t make it in the end. But a pregnancy sped everything up - way too fast.
Your parents had been furious, of course. They never approved of Eddie in the first place, thinking he was beneath you. He lived in a trailer park, he wore thrifted clothes, he repeated his senior year twice and sold drugs in the clearing behind the school. You’d heard it all before.
It didn’t stop you from loving Eddie.
You found out you were pregnant on your own. By yourself, in the silence of your bathroom while home alone, you took the test, saw the results, and cried yourself to sleep on the tile floor. You just knew Eddie was gonna run. Your parents were gonna kick you out and Eddie was gonna run and your friends were gonna abandon you, you’d be having a baby all on your own, being a single mom, working to take care of a baby-
Your spiraling turned out to all be for nothing, because your parents didn’t kick you out and Eddie didn’t leave you. That didn’t mean the news was taken well, however.
You told Eddie after school, in the theater room before Hellfire. Eddie was surprised when he looked up at the sound of the door opening and saw you walking in. You weren’t usually interested in D&D, you thought Hellfire Club meetings were boring and hated having to wait for Eddie when campaign days and date nights lined up.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, a hint of confusion in his voice. “What’s up?”
“Can I talk to you?” You were getting straight to the point, wringing your hands together and avoiding eye contact. You crossed your arms, uncrossed them, then crossed them again.
“Now?” Eddie asked, looking around the room, at the table completely set up for the campaign. “The guys are gonna be here any second-“
“I know,” you said, looking down at your feet. You were losing your resolve. “I just- it needs to be now. I need to talk to you now.”
“Is everything okay?” He pulled out a chair for you, then sat on the edge of his throne, leaning forward on his knees. “You’re freaking me out.”
“Yeah, well.” You let out a long breath. “Not really. I, uh…I have something I need to tell you.”
“Okay, now you’re really freaking me out,” he said. His eyebrows drew together, looking at you with obvious concern.
“It’s hot in here, isn’t it?” you said, looking around. “Why are there no windows in here?”
Eddie looked around, confused. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s just…” You were sweating, avoiding eye contact. “It’s hot in here, is all.”
“I…feel like you’re stalling,” Eddie said, focusing back on you. You couldn’t escape his attention now. “Just tell me what’s going on, please.”
You looked down at your trembling hands. “Eddie, I…” It felt like you were trying to make yourself as small as possible, shrinking under Eddie’s gaze. You knew nothing would be the same after you said your next words. “I’m pregnant.”
It felt like time had stopped. Eddie’s throat closed up as panic set in - his skin felt ice cold. Then, he let out a heavy sigh, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I- how? How could this fucking happen?” he asked. He rubbed his palm over his chest, as if he were physically pained. “How- when?”
“I just found out a couple days ago,” you said. You wanted to run, hide, as far away from this conversation and reality as possible. This wasn’t going well, you could already feel it. “I think I’m like- like 6 weeks, or something. I think it was…that night in your van.”
You could see Eddie mentally going back, thinking back to that night, replaying every second of it in his head. When the sickening realization passed over his face, you could see it. “We didn’t use a condom.”
“Yeah.” You couldn’t hold eye contact with him, not even for a second. Pushing some of your hair behind your ear, you continued. “I don’t…I don’t know what to do, Eddie.”
“Yeah, me fucking either,” he scoffed. He crossed his arms over his stomach, hunching over, like he might be sick. You knew what was running through his head, because it was the same thing that had been in yours. I’m a fucking idiot. I’ve ruined my life. I’ve ruined both of our lives. I’ve ruined everything. His body felt heavy.
“Are you…” You swallowed. “Are you going to stick around?”
Eddie’s eyes snapped up to your face. “Of course I am. I’m not gonna leave you on your own.”
You nodded. That was good. This wasn’t going quite as badly as you’d feared. “What are we going to do?”
“I just said I don’t fucking know!” Eddie snapped, throwing his arms out wide. He slammed his fist on the table, knocking over a bunch of figurines, and you flinched - you hadn’t been expecting it. You could see the instant regret on his face.
“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…I didn’t mean to lose control like that,” he said. He tried to rein in his emotions, desperately trying not to take out his fear and anger on you. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you said quietly.
“It’s not,” he said. “You’re going through this too. How…how do you feel?”
A strangled sounding laugh tumbled from your lips. “Just great.”
“I’m being serious,” Eddie said. “I mean, this is…this is…”
“A total disaster?” you supplied. Eddie nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. I know.”
“Have you thought about it?” he asked. “What you want to do?”
“Like if I want to…keep it?”
Eddie nodded. He clenched his jaw, preparing for your response.
You nodded your head quickly. “Yeah. I mean, that’s the only thing I do know. I don’t think I can get rid of it. I mean…it’s ours.”
He dropped his head forward. He was hunched over, buried into himself. He cursed under his breath - he knew you and he knew you’d say that, but he had still been hoping for something different. For you to say you wanted an abortion - that’s what Eddie would have chosen. He felt like he couldn’t draw enough air into his lungs.
His mind immediately jumped to the future - what that would look like. He pictured his life over, no more fun, no more D&D or Corroded Coffin or weed or anything. Dead end job he hates just to take care of the baby. His relationship with you taking a nosedive. He stretched his hands out wide and balled them into fists, over and over.
“It’s fine, it’s gonna be fine,” you said, mostly to yourself. “We’re gonna be okay. Everything is gonna be alright.”
“Should we…” he began, but startled you when he abruptly stood, the throne scraping loudly against the floor as it was pushed back. He started pacing, back and forth in front of you as he raked his hands through his curls. “I don’t know, do we have to…should we get married?”
Your mouth fell open, staring at Eddie incredulously. Had he really just suggested you get married? “Do you…want to marry me?”
“Of course I do,” he said easily. “I just…I imagined it being in the future, y’know? Not right now. It’s not…we’re not ready. We haven’t even lived yet, you know?”
“I know.”
“But…the, uh…” Eddie stopped moving, cleared his throat. “The baby. Should we get married for the baby?”
You turned his words over in your mind. You knew it would be best for the baby if you were together. But did you really want Eddie to marry you only because he felt like he had to? “I mean,” you started, “we could. But we don’t…if you don’t want to, we don’t have to.”
“Yeah, but baby,” he said, coming back over to sit in front of you again. “You know how people are gonna talk. I don’t care, I’m used to it. But I know you care.”
It was true. You weren’t particularly concerned with popularity and social hierarchy, but you did care what people said about you. You didn’t want to be talked about like trash all over town. And that’s exactly what would happen. “People are gonna say all kinds of shit.”
“Yeah. They are.” Eddie looked at you. “But that’s why we’re gonna go to the courthouse and get married. Like, this weekend.”
“Eddie- what?” Your lips parted, drawing in a quick gasp. “Are you serious?”
“I’m dead serious,” he said. He grasped your hands in his larger ones. “That’s the only way. We have to get married so people don’t know you were pregnant first. Or everyone’s going to…they’re gonna call you a whore, they’re gonna say you’re easy. I’m not gonna let anyone talk about you that way.”
“Eddie…” Tears brimmed in your eyes, your lower lip wobbling as you tried to find the words. “How would we- how do we explain why we got married so suddenly?”
“Just couldn’t wait anymore,” Eddie said, grinning. “Too in love. Had to get married immediately, couldn’t be put off for another second.”
Soft laughter bubbled up from deep inside, pulled from you unwillingly by Eddie’s words. “Really? You want to elope?”
“Fuck yeah,” he said. “Let’s do it. Let’s fuckin’ elope.”
You told your parents the next day. That went…worse. A good hour of lectures, yelling, and crying later, they agreed it was best for you and Eddie to get married. They didn’t approve of him, not by a long shot, but having you single and pregnant at 17 was worse.
Eddie was the most scared to tell Wayne. He knew his uncle was going to be disappointed in him, and that was the worst thing he could think of. He cared so much about Wayne, the idea of letting him down made his stomach sink.
You had cooked a dinner for Wayne and Eddie, something to sit down and eat together before Wayne went to work so you could break the news. One delicious lasagna later and you were sitting the dish down in front of a confused Wayne and a terrified Eddie.
“So…” Eddie started about halfway through an awkwardly silent dinner - you were letting him take the lead and he was just now working up the courage to speak. Wayne looked up at him, his mouth full of lasagna. “There was something I…we…wanted to talk to you about.”
Wayne swallowed, wiping his mouth with his napkin. He was scared of whatever Eddie was about to say, it was written across his face. “Yeah? What’s goin’ on?”
“We, uh,” Eddie cleared his throat, looking at you then back at Wayne. “We just, uh, have some news.”
You were pretty sure Wayne knew what you were about to say from that moment, from the sick feeling that crossed his face. “What is it?”
Silence. Eddie pushed his food around his plate. “We…so, we’re…” A heavy sigh. “We’re…having a baby.”
Wayne just stared at the two of you. Then, he let out a long, weary sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Ed…”
“I know,” Eddie said. “I know.” He had promised not to end up this way. He had promised not to throw his life away. He had promised to live a life that put respect on the Munson name. He didn’t do any of those things.
“What the hell are you gonna do?” Wayne asked. He didn’t say it like he was mad. He wasn’t mad - not really. Just disappointed, and scared shitless for his nephew.
You and Eddie glanced at each other. “We’re, ah, gonna get married. This weekend.”
“Getting married?” Wayne practically choked. “Ed, are you sure-“
“Yeah.” Eddie squeezed your hand under the table. “I’m sure. This is what I want, what’s best for us.”
Wayne took a long sip of his beer. “God, Ed,” he said, once he’d sat the bottle back down on the kitchen table. “How did you let this happen?”
That weekend, December 1985, you wore a thrifted lacy white dress to the courthouse. Eddie dressed in a black button up shirt, tucked into his only pair of not-ripped jeans. His hair was combed and neat, and he was freshly shaven. You held a small cheap bouquet as you said your vows in front of the justice of the peace, then held Eddie’s hands and looked into his eyes as you declared your love for him. You cried. Eddie almost did.
Your parents and Wayne watched on - it was a bittersweet moment for them. They could see the love between you, but the circumstances weren’t ideal.
You graduated 5 months pregnant, but the pride you felt at finishing school was nothing compared to how proud you were to see Eddie walk the stage. Wayne teared up as Eddie was handed his diploma. Your two families took photos together outside after the ceremony, Eddie’s hand possessively on your belly.
Your daughter, Caroline Roxanne Munson, was born September 1986. Your pregnancy was blessedly easy, your birth simple and quick. Eddie held his baby girl like she was made of glass, like she held the secrets of the universe.
“Hi, baby girl,” he mumbled to her as he rocked her in his arms, you asleep in the hospital bed behind him. The tiny baby opened her eyes, peeking around the room but focusing as much as she could on Eddie’s face. Eddie trailed his finger lightly over her chubby cheek, her small nose - his nose. Your lips. His eyes. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I love you and your mama more than I’ve ever loved anything.”
Eddie got a job as a mechanic right out of high school, at the shop down the road from Forest Hills. He was determined - it didn’t take long before he was buying a trailer and having it put in next door to Wayne’s. A new double wide, with three bedrooms.
The front door led into a large open living room with a kitchen to the right. Past the kitchen was the door to the master bedroom with a bathroom attached. Down the hall to the left was a bathroom, and two smaller bedrooms.
Caroline spent the first couple months of her life sleeping in the room with you and Eddie, but when she was six months old, you moved her into her own room.
You were happy.
When Caroline was old enough, you got a job as a receptionist for a local doctor’s office. You and Eddie were doing well - you had pulled yourselves out of a bad situation and made the best of it, and made yourselves a nice life. Wayne and your parents were proud of you both.
January 1988 - it occurred to you that you hadn’t gotten your period in three months. You’d been so busy you hadn’t even noticed - you didn’t exactly track it, it came when it came. But when you noticed it had been months? Panic set in. Caroline was only 16 months old, it felt like you’d just had her first birthday party.
You kissed Eddie at the door, took Caroline to daycare, and bought a pregnancy test on the way to work. It sat in its bag in your car all day, weighing heavily on your mind during work.
When you got off you went straight home - usually you got off work at 4, picked up Caroline, and started dinner in time for Eddie to get home at 6:30. But today, you had something to do before you could pick up your daughter.
At the house, you tossed your car keys on the hall table and headed straight for the master bathroom, bag clutched in your hand. 30 minutes later, and you were staring at a familiar sight - a positive pregnancy test.
You had no idea how Eddie was going to take the news. Sure, it was better to get pregnant now than when you were 17. But was it the right time? You and Eddie hadn’t even talked about more kids - you figured he didn’t want more. One was enough for both of you.
You picked up Caroline and got home, starting the meatloaf and mashed potato dinner. At 6:30, Caroline was sitting on the floor, playing with her toys with the Care Bears on the TV while you finished up the last of dinner. You were placing the steaming dishes on the kitchen table when the front door opened and Eddie walked in, oil splattered coveralls unzipped.
“Hey baby,” he greeted you. “Smells great. Is it ready?”
“Yep,” you said, maybe too casually. Eddie gave you a look, but shrugged it off, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips.
“And how’s my other best girl?” he asked, lifting Caroline into his arms. “What did you learn at school today?”
Caroline babbled to him about Care Bears. Eddie smiled at his daughter - he adored her like he’d never adored anything else. Not even his first sweetheart - the guitar currently hanging in your bedroom that still got plenty of love.
“That’s great, baby girl,” he said. He kissed her on the top of her head and sat her back down, where she took off running into the kitchen and straight into your legs. You picked her up, sitting her on your hip.
“How was your day?” Eddie asked you. He grabbed a bite of meatloaf and popped it into his mouth.
“It was…it was good,” you said. “Uh, boring.”
“Yeah,” Eddie said. “Hey, I’m gonna go take a quick shower. I’ll be right back and we can eat.”
“Okay,” you said, watching his form already retreating into the bedroom. The door closed behind him, leaving you alone with Caroline. You sat her in her high chair and cut up her meatloaf, making her plate.
You were helping her eat when Eddie came back out, hair wet and dressed in a white tank top and his plaid pajama pants. He took his usual seat and began piling his plate high with food.
You’d changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants since getting off work. You sat down in your seat across the table, Caroline between the two of you. You pushed your food around your plate.
“So,” you began, after a few minutes of idle conversation. “I, uh. Something happened today.”
“Oh yeah?” Eddie asked, looking up at you as he chewed his food. “What?”
You bit your lip. Caroline shoved a whole handful of mashed potatoes into her mouth. “My period is three months late.”
Silence. Eddie stopped eating, just staring at you. The only sound was Caroline, oblivious as she squealed and continued eating her dinner.
“…Oh?” he said finally. You couldn’t read him - you had no idea what he was thinking.
“Yeah,” you said. This was incredibly awkward. Things between you and Eddie were never this stilted. “So I got a test today.”
Eddie had lost his appetite, at least for right now. His food sat untouched in front of him while he stared at you. “Did you take it?”
“Yeah.”
“And?” He was getting impatient. “Please just tell me.”
You looked down at your plate. “It was positive.”
A long rush of air. Eddie running a hand through his wet curls, pushing them back out of his face. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, staring at some point on the wall behind you now instead of at you.
“Okay,” he said finally. “Okay. This is…it’s okay. We’re okay.”
“You think so?” Your brow was furrowed in concern. “Can we afford it? Are we ready? Is Caroline ready?”
“We’ll just…have to get ready,” Eddie said. “I mean, financially I think we’ll be okay. We’re alright. But are you…are you ready for another baby?” He was looking at you again. He reached across the table and took your hand, Caroline obliviously blowing raspberries and getting food everywhere. “This is mostly a big change for you.”
It was true. You were the one who’d have to go through another pregnancy and birth, you were the one who’d be at home with a newborn while Eddie only got one week of parental leave. You were the primary parent while Eddie worked longer hours.
“We don’t really have a choice,” you said. “I’ve got to be like, 10 weeks pregnant at least.” Eddie rubbed his hand over his chest. “But…yeah. I think I can do it.”
You were 11 weeks pregnant, it turned out, with a healthy little baby. Eddie smiled at you so big his face hurt at the first ultrasound. At home or out in public, he kept his hand on your belly most of the time, protectively.
This pregnancy was already such a different experience. Eddie was excited. He was extremely involved, stayed by your side every second, constantly had to be touching you and the bump, talked about baby stuff, wished for a son. Of course he’d be happy with another daughter too, but - a son would be cool, he thought.
You decided not to find out the gender. It was going to be a surprise - you decorated the third bedroom in gender neutral colors, a yellow Winnie the Pooh theme. Eddie made a little Hellfire shirt, just like he had for Caroline when you were still in high school.
You went into labor in the middle of the night. It was right on time, and your bag had been packed for weeks by the door. You dropped Caroline off with Wayne next door, and headed to the hospital to have a baby.
The birth was a little more complicated this time. There was some hemorrhaging, so they wouldn’t let you hold the baby right away. But in June 1988, you gave birth to another beautiful baby girl - Janis “Janie” Nicole Munson.
Wayne brought Caroline, who was 1 year and 9 months old, to the hospital to visit. She clung to Wayne tightly until he entered the room and she recognized you and Eddie - she reached for her father, whining for him. He laughed, lifting her from his uncle’s arms.
“Hey, angel,” he said to her. “Are you ready to meet your baby sister?”
Caroline wasn’t sure about Janie at first. She just stared at her like she was scared to touch her. Janie was sound asleep in your arms, wrapped in her hospital blanket with her little hat on her head full of dark brown hair. Finally, Caroline reached out, poking her cheek. That was as much as you were getting from her.
The sisters warmed up to each other quickly. Caroline was so fussy with noises as a baby, but Janie could sleep through the loudest of her sister’s screeches - maybe she’d gotten used to them in the womb.
After his week of parental leave, when you all stayed home together, Eddie took Caroline to daycare every morning while you stayed home for 6 weeks with Janie. You spent most of your days on the couch, cuddled together and watching old sitcom reruns. You were happy and content.
Janie hardly ever cried. She was so different from her sister - quiet and reserved, even as she grew. She was well behaved and kind, while Caroline was loud and in charge (but still a sweet girl).
Eddie adjusted to life as a dad of two easily. He really was a natural at being a father. He’d walk around the house with Janie in his arms, a giggling Caroline hanging on his back with her arms around his neck.
“Did you get her to sleep?” you asked Eddie one night, bleary eyed as you breastfed Janie in bed. He was shutting the bedroom door softly behind him.
“Yeah,” he said. “She went down easy tonight. She’s out.” He laid on the bed next to you with a groan - he’d had a long day at work. “How are my other two girls?”
“Tired,” you said. “She’s almost done eating. She should be ready to lay down in a few minutes.”
“Good,” Eddie said. “You need the rest.”
You did. It was hard to find time to sleep between taking care of a 3 month old and a newly 2 year old. “I’m exhausted,” you admitted.
“You want me to take her?” he asked. “I can finish feeding her with the bottle.”
“No, it’s okay. She hates the bottle.” You smiled down at your baby daughter. “I think she might already be asleep.”
Eddie leaned over. “She’s eating in her sleep?”
“Yeah. She does that.”
Janie finished eating about 10 minutes later, just letting go and turning her sleepy head. She was out. Eddie took her from your arms and down the hall to her bedroom.
When he came back, he crawled back into bed next to you. “Finally alone,” he teased, kissing your shoulder.
You knew he was just messing around - you hadn’t been in the mood for sex since Janie was born, even though you’d been cleared for 6 weeks - Eddie had been patient. But you wanted him - finally, something was coming alive inside you as Eddie kissed across your skin.
“Yeah,” you said. “Finally.” You met each other’s eyes - then your lips crashed together, meeting in a heated kiss. Eddie’s tongue slid into your mouth, pressing against yours, exploring you. He moaned, he was already hard - it had been months, after all.
“God, I need you,” he groaned as your hand brushed over the rock hard erection in his pajama pants. “I want you so bad.”
“I want you too,” you whispered back. You pulled him tighter into you, your sensitive breasts pressed against his bare chest.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t want to rush you. We really- we really don’t have to.”
“I want to, Eddie,” you told him, grinding your hips against his cock, making him moan pathetically.
Then you showed him just how much.
February 1990, when Caroline was 3 ½ years old and Janie was nearing 2, Eddie came to you with a proposition.
“Let’s have another baby,” he said.
“What?” You nearly spit out your coffee. “Eddie- what?”
“I know, it’s completely out of nowhere,” he said. “But hear me out. The girls are older, a little more independent. We’re financially stable. And I want another baby.”
“You want another baby?” Somehow, you’d still never discussed it. “I didn’t think you’d even be happy about two kids.”
“Are you kidding?” he said. “With you? I’ll have ten.” He brushed his thumb over your cheek. “We aren’t kids ourselves anymore. We’re 23 and 21. We have stable jobs, we’re great parents. We can do this.”
With two accidental pregnancies under your belt, you and Eddie felt like getting pregnant on purpose would be a breeze. You were experts at this point, after all. And the act that led to the making of babies was one you two had plenty of practice at.
But it didn’t happen. You fully expected to get pregnant right away, so when your period showed up the next month, you had been borderline confused.
“I don’t get it,” you said, sitting down on the side of the bed next to Eddie, feeling dejected and sad. “We- I mean, we had sex plenty of times without protection. Why didn’t it work?”
“I don’t know, baby,” Eddie said gently. “Maybe it can take time? I’m sure it’ll happen next month.”
But in April, your period showed up again. And again in May and June. By the time July rolled around, you were scared and discouraged.
“We did this by accident twice,” you said, tossing a negative pregnancy test in the trash can and wiping tears from your eyes. “How can it be so hard to do on purpose?”
“Maybe we should go to the doctor?” Eddie offered. He was leaning against the doorway of the master bathroom, shirtless with his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m sure there’s…an explanation.”
“But probably not a good one,” you sniffled. “But…I’ll think about it.”
August came, and with it came an increase in appointments at the pediatrician office you worked at in preparation for school. Between work and the kids, you were kept so busy you completely forgot about taking a test.
When you remembered, you were 2 weeks late.
“Eddie?” you crept into the bedroom after laying down Janie. Eddie had just gotten Caroline bathed and in bed, and was lying in the bed you shared, shirtless, flipping through his D&D notebook with a cigarette between his lips. He had feared his days of gaming were over, but he still found time for Hellfire every other week. He was still the only one of his friends to get married or have kids. You wondered sometimes if that bothered him.
“What’s up?” he asked, looking up from his notebook. He put out the cigarette in the ashtray next to the bed and closed the book, dropping it in the drawer.
“So…” you said, climbing in bed. “I took…a test.”
Eddie’s eyes scanned your face for any hint at how you were feeling. When he didn’t see sadness, a grin slowly spread across his lips. “Did you?”
“Yeah, I did,” you said. You were trying your best to hold your own smile back. You placed the test in Eddie’s hand - he turned it over to reveal the result. Positive.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, pulling you into a tight hug while you giggled. “This is the best news. I’m so fuckin’ happy. Another baby.”
Eddie was a little more open with his hope for a son this time around. He reassured you every time that he’d be happy with a third daughter, but - he had his hopes. You didn’t mind either way - you loved being a girl mom, but a son would be amazing, too.
This pregnancy was rougher than the first two. You stayed sick, often ending up in the hospital for fluids after being unable to keep anything down. You were in a lot of pain, under a lot of stress, and were exhausted at all hours of the day. Eddie stepped up a lot, coming home from work as early as he was able and cooking dinner some nights, helping with the girls and their bedtime routine.
Your doctor was concerned, but the baby made it until their due date, April 1991. You were induced, however, because they didn’t want to chance leaving things any longer. The birth went well, and your third daughter was born - Melissa ‘Missy’ Joan Munson.
Having a third child turned out to be a much bigger adjustment than one to two, or even none to one. Everything changed after Missy’s birth. Eddie never said it, but it was clear he felt some regret for suggesting a third child, despite the love he felt for her.
You and Eddie were both exhausted, between work and home, it felt like it never stopped. By the time the girls were in bed - Caroline and Janie sharing, Missy in her own nursery - you were too tired to do anything, both just passing out in your own bed. Your sex life was nonexistent, and you hardly had the chance to say a passing word to one another.
Over the next four years, things were strained. You were struggling more financially than you had expected. The stress over bills was constant, one or both of you sitting hunched over the kitchen table with the mail spread out and your head in your hands.
When Missy was three, she started preschool and you picked up a second job waitressing. You had never been at that level of exhausted before.
It strained your relationship more than anything. Eddie was withdrawing, spending more time at work (which you couldn’t complain about because you needed the money), going out with the guys, and burying his stresses in beer and weed after the girls were in bed. Many nights, you went to sleep alone.
Fights became a regular thing. Whether it be about finances, chores, parenting, whatever - it was always something. It felt like you couldn’t have a civilized conversation with each other anymore.
“You promised you would do the dishes,” you said, dropping the laundry basket full of the girl’s clothes in front of the washing machine. You opened it, poured in the detergent, and angrily started throwing clothes inside. “But they were still there when I got home today.”
“I forgot,” Eddie mumbled. He was drinking a beer in the recliner by the TV. The girls were in bed, and Eddie was distracted by whatever rerun was currently playing.
“You always forget.” The last of the clothes were put inside and you slammed the lid shut. Turning the dial, you started the wash cycle. “Then I have to end up doing it myself.”
“Well, it’s kind of your job,” he muttered.
“Are you fucking serious?” You walked into the living room and stepped in front of the TV, hand on your hip. Eddie rolled his eyes.
“Here we fuckin’ go,” he groaned.
“You are such an asshole,” you spat. “What’s your problem? It’s impossible to get you to do anything around here anymore. You just get home from work and sit on your ass and let me do everything!”
“I’m tired!” he exclaimed. “I’m fucking exhausted! I just want to sit down with a fuckin’ beer when I get off work and not get bitched at by my wife for once.”
“Oh, I’m bitching?” you scoffed. “I’m fucking tired too, Eddie! I work two jobs then come home and take care of the house and my apparently four children.”
“Real mature,” Eddie said. He took another swig of his beer then pushed closed the leg rest of the recliner. “Fuck this. I’m going to bed.”
“This is why we can never get through anything,” you threw your hands in the air. “You run away. You’re not willing to listen to anything I have to say. You have no respect for me. You don’t care about making anything better.”
“There is no ‘making things better’ when it comes to you.” He threw his beer bottle into the trash can with a loud clatter. “You’re never happy. Nothing I do makes you happy.”
“You used to make me happy.”
Silence. Eddie stopped, but didn’t turn around. Finally, he shook his head. “Goodnight.” And he disappeared into the bedroom.
This wasn’t new, either. You’d end up waiting until you knew Eddie was asleep before you came to bed yourself, even if you were tired. Or maybe you’d just sleep on the couch. Either way, it felt like things between you and Eddie were doomed.
It was March 1995 when you called it quits for good.
The fighting, the resentment, the drama - it had all gotten to be too much. You and Eddie didn’t even seem to like each other anymore. You didn’t know how Eddie felt deep down, but you knew you’d always love him - even if you felt like you hated him right now.
You moved out and into a three bedroom apartment. Eddie helped you move while the girls were with your parents, but it was extremely awkward. Steve, Robin, and Nancy came over and helped, too, which made it a little less uncomfortable.
It was a bittersweet moment for you - you were happy to be getting out of that house full of painful memories and starting a new life on your own, but watching Eddie walk out the door and leave you standing there alone - it crushed you. It hurt more than you ever anticipated it would. You almost went after him. Almost.
The divorce was finalized five months later.
You and Eddie barely even looked at each other as you signed the papers. There was a custody hearing, mercifully brief since you and Eddie were able to come to an agreement easily. You would keep the girls during the week while Eddie got them every other weekend. He would have liked more time, but he knew with the divorce would come sacrifice.
The girls didn’t take it well. They were 9, 7, and 4 at the time, old enough to understand what was happening and what it meant for their life as a family. For the first few months, they would cry their eyes out at every custody drop off, which made both you and Eddie feel like the worst people on the planet. But with time, everyone settled into the new normal.
You dated a few guys on and off, but never got into a serious relationship. More hookups than anything. It’s like you looked for Eddie in every guy you met, whether you could admit that to yourself or not.
Eddie was a different story. It seemed like he had a new girl on his arm every time you turned around. And it pissed you off. It’s not like you couldn’t get a boyfriend - you had plenty of opportunity to. You just didn’t like anyone. Eddie didn’t care. He didn’t have any serious girlfriends, but he didn’t mind sleeping around. He was single for the first time since he was 17, and he was living it up. It made you sick.
But you were better off apart.
October 1997
Your car pulled into the parking lot of the abandoned Shell station, the designated meeting place since the separation. It was run down, weeds peeking through the cracks in the asphalt. Eddie’s truck wasn’t there yet.
You checked your beeper to see if you had any missed messages from Eddie - nothing.
You sighed. He was always late. The girls were in the backseat fighting over a toy, not bothered at all.
Finally, his truck rumbled into the parking lot. You could hear the music before you saw the vehicle - metal blasting so loud the whole street probably heard. You rolled your eyes, preparing to deal with him.
“Daddy’s here!” Missy yelled, unhooking herself from her car seat and reaching for the door. Caroline and Janie lit up too, grabbing their weekend bags.
Eddie’s truck skidded to a stop in the parking spot one over from yours. You slid your sunglasses on, then opened the door, stepping out just as Eddie hopped down from his side. You could see her sitting in the passenger seat, not even bothering to look at you.
“Daddy!” the girls all yelled, jumping out of the SUV and running to Eddie. He laughed as he hugged them all, tossing Missy in the air.
“How are my favorite girls?” he asked, ruffling Janie’s hair. She pushed him off with a giggle, fixing her braid.
“I thought I was your favorite girl?” Stacy called from the passenger seat. She was joking, but it still made you want to punch her.
“We’re good,” Caroline said. “Can we see Laura this weekend?”
Laura was Jeff’s 6 year old. Jeff was the only one of Eddie’s friends who’d had a kid, too, and she was close with the girls.
“I’m sure we can,” he said. Missy was latched onto his leg, as if she hadn’t seen him in years. He lifted her, placing a kiss on her head. “Okay, girls, go ahead and get in the truck. We gotta go, and I need to talk to your mom before we leave.”
“Bye, mommy!” The girls called, each giving you a tight hug. You waved and watched them climb into the tall truck, closing the door hard behind them. No one in the truck could hear you now.
Eddie took a step closer to you. “You look nice,” he said, his voice low. “You gotta date or something?”
“Or something,” you said. “Not that it’s any of your business. Don’t you have your skank to get back to?”
Eddie nearly cackled, throwing his head back and laughing hard. “You always were so feisty,” he said.
You couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Take good care of my girls.”
“You know I will,” he said seriously. “You can call any time. If you wanna talk to them.”
You glanced towards the tinted truck window. “I don’t think she would like that too much.”
“She’ll get over it,” he shrugged. “You’re their mom. You can talk to them whenever.” He scuffed his boot against the ground. “How…have you been?”
You opened your mouth to answer, but jumped when the truck’s car horn blared. You and Eddie both looked over his shoulder to see Stacy leaning on the horn, looking out the window and gesturing for Eddie to hurry up.
“Guess you have to go,” you said. “Your girl is calling you.”
Eddie looked sheepish. “I’ll see you Sunday,” he said. He looked like he wanted to say something else maybe, but instead he turned, walking back around the truck to the driver’s side door. You climbed back into your own car, the silence heavy with the kids gone.
Where are the Eddie and Reader fics being heartbroken over Ozzy's death? Because my feelings are running so deep over him...I need a hurt/comfort fic so goddamn bad
a/n: this one mixes the classic religious symbolism with some... dnd metaphors? is that even a thing? anyways, the pining is intense in this one. title by led zeppelin. this can be read as a standalone piece. read prev chapters here: pt. 1 / pt. 2 / pt. 3
It’s laughter you hear first.
A quiet echo, then a gasp. Whispered shouts.
It drifts through the dim hallway of the school basement—long after hours, where labs, old art rooms, and storage closets sleep behind locked doors. Your steps slow when you spot the only source of light.
A door.
Warm light spills through a cracked pane—splintered and golden, like the cut of a stage spotlight. It’s open just enough for sound to escape.
Then, you hear it—
A voice.
His.
Low, steady.
If you hold your breath, you can just make out the words.
“…seven. And what’s your AC?”
Another voice responds, muffled.
You swallow, eyes flicking to the clock at the far end of the hallway.
You’re not sure if the door was left open by accident—if you're meant to be hearing any of this at all.
You glance down at the binder in your hand, and consider leaving it outside.
But then he starts speaking again, and something in your chest pulls.
You drift forward without thinking, feet ghosting across the tile.
You stop just short of the door, close enough to slot yourself behind the tiny sliver of open space.
Inside, Eddie is a different creature entirely.
The room is bathed in flickering candlelight, stage props and old lighting rigs stretching tall, wavering shadows. Most of his torso is obscured behind a dark screen—yet the glow catches the sharp outlines of his shoulders, the wild edge of his hair.
Behind him, the intricate carvings of a wooden chair rise, ancient and regal.
Clearly something pulled from the drama department’s dusty closet—but here, in the dim light, it feels foreboding. Commanding.
And from his throne, Eddie grins like a king.
“…takes another step toward you,” He intones, voice curling low through the air.
There’s a thread of something familiar in his voice—but it runs deeper now, darker. A growl curled beneath silk.
It’s his voice, but not a version you’ve ever known.
The room stills, like prey before a predator.
Then—THUD.
A fist slams against the table—thundercrack against wood.
The whole table jumps. Candles flicker. Sheets of paper flutter like startled birds.
Your breath catches.
“He grips you by the throat.”
Eddie’s hand shoots up—rings catching candlelight. Fingers curl midair, claw-like, closing in a tight fist.
You see it in their faces—the players.
Frozen mid-breath. Eyes wide. Clinging to every word.
Not just caught in the game. Devoured by it.
By him.
There’s a reverence in the room.
Something sacred. Like church.
And Eddie Munson’s giving the best damn sermon anyone’s ever heard.
“When the creature speaks… his lips don’t move.”
His voice drops low, eyes gleaming over the edge of the screen.
“You don’t hear it,” He murmurs, quieter still. “You feel it. In your head. In your spine.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
Even the candlelight holds its breath.
Then:
A tilt of his head. A slow roll of his shoulder.
A shift behind the screen—
And when he speaks again, the voice that comes out isn’t his.
Deep. Fractured. Raw.
“You dare challenge a god?”
It shouldn’t make your stomach flip like that. But it does.
From down the table, someone curses under their breath. You don’t see who.
You’re too busy watching him.
The shift in his gaze—slit-eyed and serpentine.
“I’ve waited centuries to wear this face again.”
The deliberate rhythm of his breathing—slow and measured. Inhuman.
“Smoke spills from his mouth,” He murmurs, slipping back into a narrator’s cadence. “The air burns cold. The runes at your feet begin to glow.”
He lifts a hand. Points down the table—straight at Dustin.
“When your eyes meet his… you recognize him.”
The room goes silent again.
Eddie leans forward, barely—and the other voice takes hold again.
“Long time no see... brother.”
Even from the doorway, you see Dustin’s jaw drop.
Nobody at the table moves. Not even to breathe.
Eddie leans back in his throne, slow and deliberate, and the grin that spreads across his face isn’t playful. Isn’t silly.
It's feral. Claiming.
And something inside you flares again—sharp, hot, and utterly wrong.
Then, just like that—his voice shifts back. Light and familiar.
And his eyes—what just a moment ago had been pitch—something cold and ancient and not-quite-human—softens.
“All right, freaks.” He claps once, breaking the silence. “We’ll pick up right here next week.”
Like a director yelling cut, the spell breaks.
Dustin lets out a choked swear, slapping a hand to the table. Sheets fly. Someone beside him throws himself backward in his chair with a groan—C’mon, Eddie!—while another hauls an eraser down the table.
You blink, blood rushing back to your legs all at once. You hadn’t noticed you’d stopped breathing. Or how close you’d leaned in.
“Make sure to grab all your shit,” Eddie rises from his throne, palms pressed to the table like a king dismissing court.
“If I have to clean up one more time after you animals, Daddy’s gonna be very disappointed.”
The table erupts in shrieks. Dustin groans in disgust. Someone wails, No, not the Daddy voice, please—
A pretzel flies down the table. Eddie ducks with a grin, unbothered, reaching for his notes.
He moves with practiced ease, sweeping up scraps of paper behind the screen. The flick of his fingers, the scrape of his chair, the low electric hum of the room still thick with imaginary blood.
It’s all still his. That energy. Tension. The afterglow of story spun like silk around his hands.
And you’re still watching—heart doing something weird and heavy—thinking about the way he commands a room without raising his voice.
Your foot moves forward, before you even mean to.
But then—the voices swell again. More laughter. Chairs dragging. Backpacks unzipping. Someone loudly demanding to know where their Mountain Dew went.
You flinch, retreating fast. Backpedaling to the bend in the hallway—tucking yourself behind the corner near the bathroom door, just out of sight.
You clutch your binder to your chest like it might shield you from the heat still flickering beneath your skin.
From the way his voice is still echoing in your bones.
At first, Eddie thinks its a hallucination.
A vision.
Some sugar-drunk mirage conjured by the questionably expired sodas Doug found in his garage.
Because there’s no way.
No way it’s you, standing in the doorway.
While he was busy conjuring demons and scribbling madly behind the DM screen, monologuing like a satanic Shakespeare.
He blinks. Rubs his eyes for good measure.
And you’re still there.
You step forward slightly, through the crack in the door, like maybe you might come in—then just as quickly, step back.
Gone.
The doorframe is empty as the group filters out, rowdier than ever.
Thanks Eddie, see ya tomorrow!
Bye, Daddy! Shrieking laughter.
Eddie barely reacts.
Gareth claps him on the shoulder, making him jump.
“Mikey’s for pizza. You coming?”
“Uh, raincheck. Gotta clean up.”
“You sure? Jeff said he’s going for the garlic knot record.”
He huffs a laugh. “Tempting. Go ahead, I’m good.”
“All right man. Jam sesh at Doug’s later, if you feel like it.” Gareth hesitates a second, then leaves with a wave.
Eddie barely nods, slow and distracted as he rolls a d20 between his fingers, eyes still locked on the door.
Maybe he’d imagined it.
A trick of the light. Wishful thinking.
Outside, voices ring down the hall, something about Dustin’s fate after the cliffhanger from today’s session.
The door clicks shut, and silence settles. Warm, buzzing at the edges.
He stays there for a moment, still behind the screen, half in the world he made.
Then, slowly, starts to gather.
Dice. Sheets. His lucky pencil, worn to a nub.
His fingers linger at the edge of the DM screen. Worn soft at the folds, a few smudges of ink on the inside panel where he’d scrawled a last-minute monster stat block.
He exhales. Low, slow. The kind that makes your ribs shift.
Rakes both hands through his hair and lets his head drop back for a second.
It’s always like this after a good session. The ache. That hollow crash. The feeling like he was somewhere else entirely, and now he’s been dropped back into his own skin.
A different kind of comedown, he thinks.
The sudden quiet of being alone again.
And then—
A knock.
Soft. Once.
Then again.
“Uh, come in?”
And you’re there.
Poking your head through a tiny crack in the door.
Cautious. Curious.
Lit from behind like some kind of angel, haloed in the faded hallway fluorescents.
He grins—helpless and immediate.
“Thought I was going crazy.”
You tilt your head, smiling faintly.
“Sorry?”
“No, it’s…” He shakes his head, still grinning. “Come in.”
You step inside with a soft ‘thanks’ on your breath.
“So this is… Dungeons and Dragons, huh?”
There’s curiosity in your tone. A little wonder, a little hesitation.
As if something might break lose if you say the words any louder.
You linger near the wall, eyeing the table in the middle like it could swallow you whole.
Eddie’s grin blooms. Can’t help it.
Soft candlelight dances across your face, catching the flicker of unease in your eyes.
He knows exactly what you must be thinking: devils sketched in red sharpie, candles set like some kind of ritual, winged and horned miniatures caught mid-snarl on the table.
You’re trying not to look alarmed. He appreciates the effort.
“First time?” he asks, voice light.
You nod, eyes roaming across the chaotic spread.
“Yeah. It’s…” Your eyes flit to the snarling archdevil on his DM screen. “…not what I pictured.”
“Yeah, you missed the one night we didn’t summon anything. We save the virgin blood for Tuesdays.” He crosses his arms, winking. “Gotta keep up appearances, right?”
A smile tugs at your lips—crooked, apologetic somehow.
You step a little closer, gaze wandering. It snags on the throne that looms behind him, regal and proud.
“So you’re like… really in charge here, huh?”
It’s half-teasing, but not cruel. There’s warmth in it. Curiosity.
Eddie’s fingers twitch at his side.
He scratches at his jaw, eyes flicking down before he smiles again.
“Well, they don’t call it Dungeon Master for nothing.”
Your eyebrows shoot up. Mouth parts a little.
“Dungeon,” You echo, careful, like you’re committing heresy.
“…Master?”
Eddie nearly chokes on his spit.
“It’s just a title,” he clears his throat, “Means I run the game, build the world. Mostly I’m the guy who gets blamed when everybody dies.”
You squint at him, then back at the table. “Huh.”
“I mean, you were really good at it,” you muse, gaze drifting over the sprawl of painted figurines and battle maps like they’re ancient relics.
He wants to show you everything.
“You know, with all the voices and stuff.” Your tone softens, trailing off, eyes still fixed on the table.
Eddie grins, slipping into his worst fake Scottish accent—shrill as all hell and offensive to both Scotland and sound itself.
“Oh, you mean Sir Bartholomew MacGee? Master of the Mystic Bagpipes, Conqueror of the Flaming Cabbage!”
You laugh, nose crinkling.
“No, I mean the, uh…” You clear your throat, biting your lip.
“The other one. The, uh… kind of… devil? Or demon?”
Oh.
Oh.
He eyes the embarrassment flickering on your face, and a slow smile curls at the corners of his mouth—giddy, edged with something molten.
A thrill bubbles up in his chest, that flicker of something he’s always been better at playing than feeling.
He leans forward, hands planted on the table, shoulders curling.
His gaze rises from beneath the curtain of his hair.
“Ah, you mean Kaelrath the Forsaken,” he purrs, voice dropping into that slow, dark register—the one meant to chill a room. “Warden of the Shadowed Keep.”
You nod, face just a touch too serious.
He watches you, amused and a little fascinated.
“Oh, you don’t wanna mess with him.”
“Why not?” Your eyes widen, voice barely above a whisper.
His heart nearly stops.
“Well,” he leans back, crossing his arms, “He made a pact with the Obsidian Wyrm, got exiled from the Celestial Plane, yadda yadda. Bit of a dick, honestly.”
He flashes you a grin. “Real mean bastard.”
You blink, a smile stalling on your lips.
“Well, I kinda thought you were mean and scary too. Before I knew you.”
He laughs—sharp and startled, like you knocked the air out of him.
Looks away fast, suddenly not sure where to land his eyes.
His hand taps jittery on the back of his throne.
Then:
“You wanna try it?” He quirks a smile, brows lifting.
You blink. “What? Oh, no, I don’t—”
“Oh c’mon,” He steps aside, gesturing with a little flourish to the chair behind him.
“It’s simple mechanics. All you need’s a little imagination.”
You hesitate, then step slowly toward the seat he’d been occupying all night.
Carefully, like it might collapse under your weight, you lower yourself into it.
And for a moment, Eddie can’t move.
He just watches you.
The way your fingers hover over the edge of the table.
The way your eyes flicker over the chaos behind the screen. The campaign notes still wide open—scrawled maps, monster stats, a post-it that says YOU BASTARD in Gareth’s handwriting.
Stage lights cast a soft glow behind you, catching in your hair.
Eddie swallows.
Hellfire would riot if they saw this.
No one gets to sit there. No one but him.
He tips his head to the side, murmuring softly.
“That’s the seat of power, y’know.”
You glance up.
“Hm?”
“See this right here?” He leans in, tapping the DM screen.
“Gotta be careful what you say behind this screen. People start believing you.”
You purse your lips, thoughtful.
Your eyes trace along the edge of the screen, then flick back to his—curious, cautious.
“What if I don’t know what to say?”
Eddie’s smile softens.
“You make something up,” he says, starting to move. “Here—I’ll show you.”
He drops into a player’s seat beside you, Gareth’s usual spot, his knee brushing yours once.
“Ok, so. It’s the middle of the night. It’s pouring rain. You’re pushing through the trees, branches scraping your arms,” he starts, voice low, almost absentminded as he starts spinning the world around you. “You’ve been walking for days—mud up to your knees. Maybe blood, too. Hard to tell at this point.”
You blink, caught in the picture he’s painting, and he smiles to himself before continuing.
“Up ahead, you see this crooked old tavern, just off the path. Smoke’s coming from the chimney. There’s soft, amber light flickering through the windows. Looks warm.”
He meets your eyes.
“What do you do?”
You hesitate for a beat, then:
“I… walk inside.”
Eddie makes a small motion with his hand, pushing open an invisible door.
“You walk inside, and there’s a guy behind the bar. Big. Broad shoulders. Thick arms. Big scar running across one eyebrow—like someone tried to take his eye once and couldn’t finish the job.”
He leans in, resting his forearms on the table. Drops into his gruff, rough-edged voice.
“Name’s Corwin. I run the place. And you?”
You hesitate, biting your lip to hide the smile curling there. Then:
“Why do you want to know?”
Eddie grins—delighted.
“Ah, mysterious.” he leans back with a soft chuckle, eyes drifting down your frame. “Let me guess. Boots wrecked. Dirt under your nails. You’re a traveler. Been on the road too long, maybe running from something.”
You purse your lips, chin tucked, lashes low.
“Maybe.”
He studies you for a moment. In character or not, he’s not entirely sure anymore.
“And you want something,” he says, gaze flicking to your mouth for half a second too long. “That’s why people come here, y’know. They want warmth. Answers.” A beat. “Or trouble.”
Your smirk grows, just a touch. Enough to knock the air out of him.
“Which one are you offering?”
Christ. He’s a goner.
He grins. “Dealer’s choice.”
The moment stretches—playful, delicate. Too delicate for him to touch.
Then, your eyes flit to the side, voice low like you’re not sure if you’re allowed to ask:
“Is this guy, like, evil?”
Eddie blinks, then reaches behind the screen for a die—his lucky d20.
Smoky black, flecked with silver, numbers etched in jagged runes painted crimson.
“Time for a roll.” He nods, dropping the die into your palm. “It’s called an insight check. Lets you know if someone’s lying. Or hiding something.”
Your eyes flicker down to the die, then back up at him, fingers curling around it.
Then, you let go.
The die spins, tumbling across the table, then settles.
And what stares back, in fiery red, rips the floor out from under him.
A bright, perfect 20.
His breath hitches, quiet and sharp.
Because of course it is.
Of course you’d crit on your first roll.
Why wouldn’t you?
Why wouldn’t the universe tilt like that, just for you?
“A 20?” you ask, blinking down at the table. “Is that… is that good?”
His eyes don’t move from the number.
A dry laugh escapes—quiet, breathless, caught somewhere between stunned and amazed.
His mouth opens, words on deck—but nothing. Total blank.
His brain short-circuits under the weight of it. Of the absurd cosmic perfection that is you.
Blinks hard, once, eyes dragging up to meet yours.
“Yeah,” he nods, voice rough. “That… that’ll do it.”
You straighten a little, something like pride lifting your posture. There’s a glint in your eyes now—half teasing, half triumphant.
“So… this tavern guy. Is he evil?”
Eddie presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, then smiles—wide now, full of teeth.
He leans in, forearms on the table. Fingers steepled. Thinking.
Licks his bottom lip, sifting through every possible outcome worthy of honoring that nat 20.
He’s going to make it good.
Something dramatic. Legendary.
Then—
“OH MY GOD.”
Dustin's voice cuts through the air like a slap.
He freezes in the doorway, half-in, half-out, gaping like he just walked in on a crime scene.
Eddie doesn’t even flinch. Just sighs. Deep. Agonized.
He turns slowly, dramatically, with the air of a man who’s just had his Oscar moment ruined by a stage-crasher.
“Henderson,” he murmurs, voice flat. “What have I told you about knocking?”
“Uhh,” Dustin’s eyes flick between you two, wide with dawning horror. “I thought this room’d be empty?”
Eddie sighs and drops his head into his hand, fingers dragging down his face like he’s trying to erase himself from reality.
“Oh hey, Dustin!” you call brightly, cheerful and unbothered, giving him a little wave from the DM throne like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
Eddie peeks up at you through his fingers, one eye narrowed in disbelief.
Dustin waves back, awkward, eyes darting like he's trying to solve a math problem he really doesn't want the answer to.
Eddie’s still squinting at you through his hand, wondering how in the hell you know Henderson.
“Oh, I totally forgot!” You exclaim, suddenly rummaging through your bag.
Dustin edges a little closer, still watching Eddie like he might bite.
You pull out a neat binder and hand it over.
“Make sure you get those done by Friday.”
“Oh. Right. Thanks.” Dustin smiles nervously, casting a quick glance toward Eddie, then at the chair closest to him.
“Uhm, I’m just gonna…” He lunges forward, snatching the jacket he’d left draped over the back.
He retreats a couple steps back, then hesitates. Feet stalling.
He’s not leaving. Why wasn’t he leaving?
“So, were you guys like…”
Eddie’s head snaps up, eyes like daggers.
“Juust playing DnD!” Dustin blurts, voice cracking. Throws up a frantic double thumbs-up. “Yep, yep, just DnD! Totally normal. Totally chill. Just the greatest tabletop roleplaying game of all time! I mean, why wouldn’t you be playing it, right?”
He lets out a choked laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.
Then, quieter—muttering to himself like a man unraveling:
“Yep. Real casual. Totally platonic. Just sitting in the DM chair. Nothing weird about that.”
Eddie cocks his head, pointing to the door. No words now. Just death.
“Yep! Got it.” Dustin nods fiercely, then backpedals like Eddie’s about to detonate.
“Didn’t see anything. Didn’t hear anything. In fact, I was never even here.”
He fumbles blindly for the knob, turns it to the left.
“Other way, you goblin,” Eddie calls, face fully buried in his palm now.
From beside him, he hears you stifle a laugh into your hand.
Dustin bumps into the door. Twice. Then bolts.
In the silence that ensues, you exhale a soft, happy sigh.
“I love that kid.”
“Uh-huh.” Eddie mutters, staring after the door.
He’s already planned the exact moment he’ll kill Henderson’s bard next session.
Eddie shifts, finally turning to you. “How do you know him again?”
Your bag zips closed with a soft rasp. “I tutor him in Algebra.”
Of course. Of course you do.
“Speaking of math…” You reach down beside your seat, slinging the bag over your shoulder with a small sigh.
“I should really get to studying. Big exam tomorrow.”
“Right,” Eddie nods, standing up too. “Uh, good luck.”
Your smile is soft, but it tugs sideways—quiet and tired, like there’s something else still sitting in the back of your throat.
He has a hunch about what’s coming.
What’s been trying to reach the surface ever since you walked in.
“Hey, um…” you finally say, brows knit tight, “I’m sorry about Tuesday. I think I was…”
The words falter. You shake your head, teeth pressing into your bottom lip, frustration leaking through a quiet breath.
“Upset?” He offers gently.
You nod. Slow. Brows loosening.
“Yeah,” your lips twitch, pressing in a thin line. “That’s probably it.”
A pause, then you step forward:
“But you’re not… upset? About how I…”
He almost frowns—but doesn’t. Just shakes his head, quiet and sure.
You say nothing for a while, just watching. Studying him with a careful sort of wonder, like you’re turning his words over in your head, testing for weight.
Then—
“Insight check?” You blink softly, raising his die with a sheepish little smile.
He lets out a quiet sound. Almost a laugh.
“You don’t need one. I’m being honest. Promise.”
You nod, lips pressed together.
“Ok.”
You hoist your bag higher on your shoulder, fingers tight around the strap.
“Bye, Eddie. Have a good weekend.”
“Yeah, you too.”
You’re halfway out the door before he finds his voice again.
“Hey,” he calls, just loud enough to reach. “That guy, by the way? From the tavern?”
You pause at the threshold, haloed by hallway fluorescents.
Confusion lingers before it’s softened by something warmer. A quiet, expectant smile plays at your lips as you tilt your head, waiting.
“Not evil.”
A flicker of something tugs at the corner of your mouth.
Then you huff a quiet laugh, small and amused.
“Huh. Good to know.”
You wave.
He waves back.
Then watches you disappear into the hall, golden-hour light framing your silhouette like the end of a dream.
He sinks into the throne—yours, now—and exhales. Slow. Deep.
Throws the d20 across the table and doesn’t bother to watch where it lands.
Scene setting. Character introductions. Insight rolls.
He thinks about all that he’s shared with you, and all that he keeps tucked away.
Like how DnD’s the only time he ever gets to hold everything in his hands.
The only time people listen when he talks.
He thinks about that a lot. How most people assume he plays to be in charge—to be admired, feared, untouchable. And sure, yeah, it’s fun. Playing god for a while. But that’s not why he does it.
It’s not power he wants.
It’s control.
Control like… building a world where people can walk into and understand. Where everything has shape, cause and effect.
Order. Logic. Consequences you can see coming.
Not like real life, where your mom dies and your dad leaves and your grades are tanking and everyone hates you for reasons they never bother to explain beyond ‘You’re weird, Munson.’
No. Here, he decides what’s fair. What’s earned. What matters.
And when he says the trapdoor opens?
It fucking opens.
He didn't tell you about the thoughts that crawl in late at night—when sleep won’t come and his skin itches with the static of things he can’t fix.
How he wants to build you a world that holds instead of hurts.
Structure. Edges. A place with rules—not laws, not like school or curfews or church.
Not the kind that trap, but protect.
Like a campaign world.
Thought through. Crafted. Intentional.
A safe place inside the chaos.
And in those hours, when he's lying flat on his back with the ceiling fan clicking overhead like a countdown, he pictures it.
A rhythm.
The way your day could start, if you wanted: with his voice in your ear, soft and certain, before the day gets loud. Coffee in a chipped mug, waiting. Socks warmed by the heater. His hoodie draped over your chair.
He imagines a world where nothing hurts unless you ask it to.
Where you get to choose what matters. What’s too much, when to stop.
Where he’s the one watching the edge, always two steps ahead, so you don’t have to carry everything all the time.
Because he knows what that looks like—carrying the weight alone. Holding yourself upright, laughing loud enough so no one hears the cracks underneath.
He’s seen it in you. A reflection, because he’s worn it too.
But in his world—this world he builds in his mind—you don’t have to do that. Not if you don’t want to.
You can hand it over. Let him keep watch.
Ritual, he thinks.
A sacred kind of repetition. Something you return to when the noise gets too loud and the floor starts to tilt.
He could be that for you.
But he won’t say that.
Not yet.
Not unless you ask.
Because in his world, the doors don’t open unless you're ready.
And the weight only leaves your hands when you choose to release it.
If that day comes, he’ll be there.
Waiting at the edge.
Two steps ahead.
Keeping watch.
a/n: oof eddie, eddie, eddie. I rlly enjoyed diving into his little psyche with this one. lmk ur thoughts! reblogs/comments are always appreciated :)
also would anyone be interested in a taglist? i might start one if there's enough interest!
Marvel One Two Three Four Five
Wizarding World One Two Three Four Five Six
Stranger Things One Two Three Four Five Six Seven
Specific Characters Tangerine Vigilante
Masterlist
Fixer Upper by @munsster
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Summary: “The kids aren’t saying you can change him, per se. They’re only saying that love’s a force that’s powerful and strange.”
Strawberry Fields Forever by @chaptersleftunwritten (18+ Only)
Pairing: Perv!Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: “You go on a picnic date with some friends, not expecting to rile Eddie up.”
A Lounge Chair and Half a Bikini by @rainydayathogwarts (18+ Only)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader, ft. Steve Harrington
Summary: “eddie and gf!reader get frisky in steve's backyard and he watches from the room above with the promise of bringing down towels so they can swim.”
Two-Player by @eiightysixbaby (18+ Only)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: “turns out it’s a great idea to screw around with your coworker”
Going Steddie by @jobean12-blog (18+ Only)
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader x Eddie Munson
Summary: “You've got Steve and now you want Eddie too.”
Stumbling by @stevesgother
Pairing: Coworker!Steve Harrington x Reader
Request: “emmmm!!!!!!!! i’m thinking “well you are cute, ah! i mean- you’re not cute, but you are? i’m just going to shut up now.” with steve & coworker!reader please and thank you love you mwuah mwuah”
He’s an Idiot by @mild-lust (18+ Only)
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Summary: “After being stood up by Eddie Munson, you run into Steve Harrington on the walk home from the trailer park. He lends you listening ear and a ride—and instead of taking you home, he takes you to his.”
Blind Date by @c4tluver02
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Summary: “Robin and Vickie set their best friends up together for a blind date, they can only hope it goes well!”
Cool Your Engine by @vingtetunmars (18+ Only)
Pairing: Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: “A summer car breakdown leads to unexpected sparks when you're met with Eddie Munson, the mechanic.”
Here Comes Your Man by @dearest-nell
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Summary: “you go to pick up your very drunk boyfriend from the bar after a well deserved night out”
Summary: Two freshman convince you to join them at Hellfire despite you never having played before. You're weary at first, but jump at the chance once you learn that Eddie Munson, who you've been crushing on all year, will be there.
“Can you please, please, please come play DND with us tonight?” a voice came from right behind you.
You were pretty sure that they weren't talking to you, but when you turned around, two sets of brown eyes were staring right at you.
You found yourself staring back at a pair of Freshmen who you’d never spoken to before in your life. One of them, you were pretty sure, was Nancy Wheeler’s little brother.
“Do I know you?” Your brows pulled together.
“Probably not.” The taller of the two said, looking far too hopeful. “But we really, really need a third, and nobody else can do it.”
“So you’re just asking everyone?” You tilted your head slightly. “I don’t even know what that is. I don’t know how to play.”
“At this point, we’re desperate.” The smaller one spoke with a heavy lisp. “It doesn’t matter whether or not you can play. Eddie’s gonna kill us if we show up one man short.”
“Eddie Munson?” You perked up a little, and both boys looked shocked.
You’d always had a bit of a crush on the older metalhead but found him too intimidating to approach.
“Yeah…” little Wheeler trailed off, “He’s our DM.”
“DM?”
“Dungeon Master.” His friend clarified.
“You’re making this sound like some kind of sex cult.” You raised a brow and chuckled when they both turned pink. “Explain.”
“It just means that he runs the club. Hellfire club.” They gestured towards their shirts, still blushing. “We play Dungeons and Dragons.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“You haven't said no yet.”
“You’re right, I haven’t.” You nodded, looking amused.
“Please?” They gave you the puppy eyes, and you sighed dramatically.
“You’re sure they won't mind you bringing some rando?”
“No!”
“It’ll be fine!”
They spoke at the same time.
“Yeah, I guess. It’ll probably be more fun than the stupid basketball game.” You shrugged finally and flinched when they started jumping up and down and cheering.
You almost regretted agreeing when you found yourself holding a massive book full of information about the game and how to play, but the prospect of breathing the same air as Eddie Munson and having him know that you exist kept you from running for the hills.
The boys, whom you now knew as Mike Wheeler and Dustin Henderson, were talking a mile a minute, trying to explain things to you while you desperately tried to absorb even a shred of information.
When it finally came time to ditch the basketball game and follow your newfound teammates down the hallways of Hawkins High, you were a little nervous.
You really had no fucking clue what you were about to walk into and the brief, yet extensive rundown you’d gotten hadn’t really left you understanding anything outside of it’s a game, not a sex cult, and that there are a shit ton of different dices.
What you had not expected was to walk into the drama room and lock eyes with Eddie Munson, perched on a throne.
Yes, a throne.
His brows immediately pulled together in confusion, and your cheeks started to warm.
He knew you. You were in a few of his classes this year, and he’d spent enough time staring at you to know that you were not dorky enough to be willingly standing there with two of the freshmen he’d taken under his wing.
“Uh, what’s this?” He tore his gaze away from you to look at the boys.
“You asked for a sub.” Mike gestured towards you, “We delivered.”
“That’s not a sub,” He groaned after a minute, “That’s a hostage.”
“Jesus Christ, she looks like she’s being held at knifepoint!”
“She is not a hostage.” You interjected, unable to help but laugh. “I am a willing participant. Just, for the record.”
Eddie opened and closed his mouth a few times like he didn’t know what to say.
“Wheeler, Henderson!” He called the boys over to the throne, finally, “Get over here.”
Dustin gave you an encouraging thumbs up before crossing the room, leaving you standing there awkwardly.
“What the hell is this?” Eddie hissed lowly once the boys were standing in front of him.
“Nobody else wanted to play!” Mike exclaimed
“So you kidnap the poor girl?” His eyes darted over to you, then back to the younger boys. “Absolutely not.”
“We didn’t kidnap her!” Dustin insisted, “She was all for it when she heard you were gonna be here.”
“What?” He faltered, looking genuinely taken aback. “Why?”
“She’s like totally into you, man!”
“She is not.” He looked over again.
“She is too.” Mike corroborated, “Lit up like a Christmas tree, and that was before we clarified that this is not a sex cult. She wants you. For real.”
“Really?” Eddie still looked like he didn’t fully believe them, but it was clear that his interest had been piqued.
“Yes!” They both cried at the same time.
“Does she know how to play?”
“Kinda.” Dustin shrugged, “As much as we could teach her between lunch and now.”
“Good enough.” Eddie sprang out of his throne and nudged them aside to saunter over to you and hold his hand out for you to shake.
“Welcome to hellfire.” He grinned.
You slapped your hand into his and almost jerked away.
It was like an electric current had flowed through every nerve that made contact with his skin, and when you locked eyes, it became clear that he’d felt it too.
Neither of you let go, though.
Not until the other players started clearing their throats and giggling amongst themselves.
You looked away at the same time and gathered around the table.
The prospect of embarrassing himself in front of a pretty girl did not stop Eddie Munson from getting into full Dungeon Master character, especially when he saw how entertained you looked.
It very quickly became apparent that you did not know how to play, but your enthusiasm, despite being completely lost, more than made up for it. To everyone’s surprise, he allowed the boys to play for you help. And let you just throw the dice whenever it was your character’s turn, even if you had no clue what the numbers meant.
The rest of the players were happy to let you sit there and look pretty, even if it was proving to be a bit of a distraction.
“The hooded cultists chant,” Eddie narrated the game so dramatically that he had you fully engrossed, at the edge of your seat.
"Hai, Lord Vecna. Hail, Lord Vecna."
“They turn to you, remove their hoods. You recognize most of them from Makbar. But there is one you do not recognize, his skin shriveled, desiccated.”
“And something else.” Eddie rose from his throne theatrically, growing louder, “He is not only missing his left arm, but his left eye!”
The boys all started screaming, and despite having no idea why, you gasped as if you did.
Eddie found it incredibly alluring.
“Vecna’s Dead!” Dustin shouted, eyes wide in disbelief.
“He was killed by Kas!”
“So it was thought, my friends.” Eddie lowered himself back into his throne, laughing maniacally, “So it was thought.”
“But Vecna lives.”
He waited for the clamouring to die down before continuing.
“You’re scared. You’re tired. You’re injured.” He murmured, drawing them all in.
“Do you flee Vecna and his cultists? Or do you stand your ground and fight?”
You looked at the rest of the players, very much aware that you didn’t know enough to cast a vote, and Eddie took the oportunity to stare.
He couldn’t believe you were sitting across from him.
You, with your kind eyes and dazzling smile.
You, with your genuine enthusiasm and lack of judgment, despite this being one of the nerdiest games in the world.
You, getting along with his friends as if you’d been in the fold for years and not just mere hours.
You, whom he’d been eyeing since the start of the year, but he was convinced would never go for him.
Eddie couldn’t believe that you not only knew who he was, but had agreed to get dragged into a game you knew nothing about by two freshmen just because he’d be there. Wasn’t sure if he fully believed it really.
Maybe you were just too kind and had taken pity on the poor boys.
He’d been swindled by the puppy dog eyes once or twice himself. He knew how persuasive they were when they wanted to be.
There was no explaining away the feeling of shaking your hand, though.
That was something.
Surely, you’d felt it too.
The look you’d shared may as well have been a mirrored image.
He was torn from his thoughts by the chanting of the club.
They’d decided to fight.
You were so invested in the game that you almost felt like you understood what was happening.
You cheered when your teammates landed a hit and cried out in frustration whenever Eddie cackled and slapped a figurine off the board to signal a miss.
It came to a point where you were down to two players left on the board, and Gareth called for a timeout as if it were a sport.
Somehow, you were one of the two.
“Guys, I hate to say this.” Jeff grimaced. “But we’ve got to flee.”
“I concur.” Gareth immediately agreed.
“Whoa!” You gasped, “What happened to ‘to the death’?”
“That wasn’t literal!”
“Vecna just decimated us.” Doug shook his head. “We can’t kill him with just two players.”
“You too?” Dustin groaned, “He only has 15 hit points left. Don’t be Pussies.”
“Pussies?” Jeff hissed, “Really? Cause we’re not Delusional?”
“Hey!” Eddie shouted from his throne, drawing all of your attention. “If I may interject, Gentlemen, Fair lady.”
You bit back a smile, trying to be serious and failing miserably.
“Whilst I respect the passion, you’d be wise to take Gareth the Great’s concerns to heart. There is no shame in running.”
“Don’t try to be heroes,” He pouted condescendingly. “Not today, ‘kay?”
You all blinked at him for a moment.
“One sec.” Dustin held out a finger, and the huddle resumed.
“What do you think?”
“How many hit points do you guys have left?” Mike turned to you and Dustin.
You glanced down at the little notebook you’d been keeping track in and answered at the same time as Dustin.
“Twelve.”
“It’s risky as hell.” Mike shook his head thoughtfully. “But you’re the ones on the battlefield. So, it’s your call.”
“What do you say?” Dustin asked you.
“I say fuck it.” You shrugged, smiling mischievously, “What've I got to lose?.”
“Screw it.” Dustin nodded, breaking the huddle “Let’s kill the son of a bitch.”
“The chances of success are 20-1,” Doug argued when you all crowded around the table.
“Never tell me the odds.” Dustin held a hand out to stop him.
The boy turned to Eddie with a determined look on his face and muttered,
“Give me the D-20.”
Eddie threw it, smiling in pure amusement.
He clearly didn’t think that the rest of you would be winning anything.
Dustin shook up the dice in his fists, blowing into them for luck.
It rolled across the table, and you all watched with bated breath, screaming ‘NO’ collectively when it landed on an 11.
“That’s. A. Miss!” Eddie banged his head to emphasize each word, cackling while you all absorbed the loss.
“Shit!” Dustin slapped his figurine off the table angrily.
“It’s all you, princess.” The Dungeon Master watched you through Strands of long hair with a crazed look in his eyes.
“You trying to distract me with your sweet talk, Munson?” You cocked a brow, keeping your cool despite your insides melting at the pet name.
“That depends,” He squinted at you playfully, “is it working?”
“Nope.” You tore your eyes away with great difficulty. “I’m feeling lucky.”
“No pressure,” Dustin rested a hand on your shoulder, “But the fate of this party rests on you.”
“Dustin?” You muttered sweetly.
“Mhmm?” he hummed, dreamily.
“Shut up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded tightly, and took a step back.
“Okay,” You muttered to yourself, plucking the D-20 off the table to cradle it in your hands.
They all watched you cup your hands together and shut your eyes, whispering into your palms as if you were speaking directly to the dice before shaking them.
When you finally let it fly, you felt like everything was moving in slow motion, even the pleas and prayers of the rest of the party.
You held your breath and braced your palms on the edge of the table, gripping it so hard that your knuckles were going white.
Eddie was doing the same thing at the other end of the table, watching just as intently.
The dice rolled to a stop, and the room erupted in screams so loud they made your ears ring, but you didn’t care because a startled, victorious cackle tore its way out of your throat.
20.
“Crit hit!” Dustin howled, throwing his arms around your waist, jumping up and down in elation.
Eddie scoffed out a laugh, grinning like a madman.
“That’s why we play!” He jabbed a finger in your direction, then bowed theatrically while you beamed back at him.
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
GIF by @nicostiel
Part 2
Masterlist
Eddie Munson x Reader
Warnings: 18+ MDNI
Summary: A midnight ride in Eddie Munson's van can't go wrong right ?
NEXT PART
Part One
The air in Eddie Munson's van feels thicker tonight, heavy with the scent of leather and faint weed lingering from earlier. You're sprawled on the passenger seat, one leg tucked under you, the ripped denim of your jeans catching the dim glow of the dashboard. Eddie's leaning back, one hand draped over the steering wheel, the other fiddling with a cigarette he hasn't lit yet. His rings glint as he shifts, glancing at you with that half-smirk that makes your pulse hitch.
"You gonna keep staring at the stars through the windshield, or you got something to say?" His voice is low, teasing, but there's an edge to it—like he's daring you to close the distance between you. The cassette deck hums faintly, some metal band you can't name, but it’s just noise now, drowned out by the way his brown eyes lock on yours, bold and unreadable.
Your breath catches, and you shift, leaning closer, elbow brushing his arm. "Maybe I’m just waiting for you to make a move, Munson." It’s a challenge, tossed like a spark into dry grass. His smirk falters, just for a second, and you feel the tension coil tighter, electric. He leans in, slow, deliberate, until his face is inches from yours, his hair tickling your cheek.
"Careful what you wish for," he murmurs, voice rough, warm breath fanning your skin. Your heart’s hammering, and you’re hyper-aware of every inch of space—or lack of it—between you. It’s not just playful anymore. It’s a line, and you’re both teetering on the edge.
Your knee brushes his thigh as you shift, the contact sending a jolt through you, sharp and unignorable. You’re close enough now to see the faint freckles dusting his nose, the way his lashes dip when his gaze flicks to your lips, lingering there a beat too long.
"You’re trouble, you know that?" Eddie says, his voice a low rumble, like he’s trying to talk himself out of something. But his hand—the one with the skull ring you’ve always secretly loved—moves to the seatback behind you, his arm forming a loose cage. Not trapping you, but definitely making it clear he’s not backing off either. The leather of his jacket creaks as he leans closer, and you catch the faint spice of his cologne, mixing with something unmistakably him. It’s dizzying.
Your mouth feels dry, but you manage a grin, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. "Says the guy who’s got me alone in his van at midnight." You’re pushing, testing, and the way his jaw tightens tells you he feels it too. The air’s so charged it’s almost hard to breathe, every word a spark that could set this whole thing ablaze.
He chuckles, but it’s rough, strained, and his free hand twitches like he’s fighting the urge to touch you. "You’re makin’ it real hard to be good here." His eyes are dark now, pupils blown wide, and the smirk he’s trying to hold onto doesn’t quite reach them. It’s not just teasing anymore—it’s hunger, raw and barely restrained.
You lean in, just enough that your breath mingles with his, your lips hovering so close you can almost taste the cigarette he never lit. "Who said I want you to be good?" The words slip out, bold and reckless, and something shifts in his expression—surprise, maybe, or surrender. His hand slides from the seat to your jaw, fingers grazing your skin, calloused but gentle, tilting your face up. Your heart’s a riot, and you’re not sure if it’s you or him trembling, or both.
"Eddie," you whisper, and it’s half a question, half a plea. He doesn’t answer with words. His thumb brushes your lower lip, slow, deliberate, and the world narrows to that single point of contact. You’re both frozen, teetering on the brink, and all it’d take is one move—one tiny push—to fall over the edge. His thumb lingers on your lip, pressing just enough to make your breath hitch, and then his hand slides to cup your face, fingers tangling in your hair. The roughness of his rings contrasts with the warmth of his skin, grounding you and setting you on fire all at once. He’s so close now, his nose brushes yours, and the world outside the van—Hawkins, the stars, the weight of everything—melts away.
"You’re gonna ruin me," he mutters, voice gravelly, almost pained, but his eyes are blazing with something wild, something that dares you to prove him right. You can feel the heat radiating off him, the way his chest rises and falls just a little too fast, like he’s fighting to keep control. But you don’t want control. Not now.
You tilt your head, closing the fraction of space left, your lips grazing his—just a ghost of a touch, testing. It’s electric, a spark that shoots through every nerve, and Eddie lets out a low sound, half groan, half curse. That’s all it takes. His restraint cracks, and he kisses you, hard and hungry, like he’s been starving for this and didn’t even know it.
His mouth is warm, desperate, tasting faintly of mint and the promise of trouble. You kiss him back just as fiercely, one hand fisting in his jacket to pull him closer, the leather cool under your fingers. The van’s cramped space forces you together, your knee pressing into his thigh, his arm sliding around your waist to steady you. It’s messy, all heat and teeth and need, and you’re drowning in it, in him—the way he moves like he can’t get enough, like you’re oxygen and he’s been holding his breath too long.
You break apart for a second, gasping, foreheads pressed together. His breath fans hot against your cheek, and you feel his grip tighten, like letting go isn’t an option. "You okay?" he rasps, voice wrecked, eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. But there’s none. You’re all in.
"Don’t stop," you say, barely recognizing the edge in your own voice. It’s a demand, not a request, and the grin that flashes across his face—sharp, a little feral—tells you he heard it loud and clear. He pulls you back in, this time slower, deeper, savoring every second. His hand slides under your shirt, just enough to graze the skin above your waistband, and the contact sends a shiver through you, sharp and addictive.
The cassette deck pops, startling you both, and you laugh against his lips, breathless, tangled in each other. He’s smiling too, but it’s not soft—it’s dangerous, like he’s already planning how much further this can go. The tension’s still there, coiled tight, but now it’s laced with something new: possibility, reckless and alive.
summary life felt complicated enough when you started falling for zach. then you meet rafe. he’s the complete opposite of his twin brother, but he captures your attention just the same.
author’s note finally wrote the zach/rafe twin au!! i won’t be making this a series but it was so fun to write as a one-shot (that had to turn into a two-shot because i ran out of post space lol)
tags college au set in the obx universe. mutual pining. angst. love triangle. miscommunication. no smut. rafe endgame (s2 bangs supremacy) (sorry to my zach girlies)
content warnings alcohol use, mental illness, mentions of parental abandonment
» intro post
» masterlist
Everyone can tell the Cameron twins apart by their hair.
Zach’s is short and unkept, always looking like he just ran off the soccer field, while Rafe keeps his a little longer, soft strands hanging over his forehead, every edge neat and clean.
From the moment you first see them together, you can tell that the two couldn’t be more different. And you don’t need to rely on any tricks like looking at their hair to know who’s who.
It’s their eyes that give them away. While they’re the same captivating shade of blue, Zach has a sense of hope in his eyes that Rafe doesn’t.
────୨ৎ────
Your father has been coaching your college’s men’s soccer team for most of his career. When the directors of the athletic department kept pestering him about the team needing a social media presence for the school’s PR, he asked you if you’d be interested.
As a freshman, the part-time job seemed like a fun way to get to know people, so you accepted the position and made a TikTok account for the team.
Since the start of the season, of all the soccer players, Zach has been the most welcoming. He goes along with whatever you need for work, humoring you when you hold up your phone and ask him trending questions for videos, like what his lockscreen is or what superstitions he follows before a game.
As time went on, you felt yourself gravitating more and more towards him, watching him in awe whenever you came by the field during practices and games.
Eventually, he started inviting you to the close-knit team’s hangouts. You quickly and seamlessly joined the friend group within a few weeks.
Before you knew it, you had a serious crush on him. He’s handsome and funny and a total sweetheart. What makes it so complicated is that you can’t read him at all.
He’s nice to you, but he’s nice to everyone. Maybe your feelings are unrequited, but you hold onto hope that he looks at you the same way you look at him.
It’s a Friday night when you visit Zach’s place for the first time. You’re sitting in the living room with a few of his teammates and their girlfriends, your empty takeout containers scattered over the coffee table, the sound of the autumn wind rushing past the windows reduced to a whisper beneath your loud conversation.
Zach had already told you he had a twin brother that he lived with in a loft off-campus, but when you rest your eyes on Rafe for the first time as he comes through the front door, it’s surprisingly jarring to see someone identical to Zach.
The chatter continues around you as you watch Rafe toss his keys onto the end table, drop a duffle bag, and silently walk into the open-concept kitchen. He swings open the fridge, keeping his head down.
His hair is damp, sweat glistening on his skin. His shirt is plastered to his torso, the planes of his muscles angular and sharp, not leaving much to the imagination.
“You haven’t met my less handsome brother yet,” Zach jokes to you. He points to Rafe, then to you, introducing you to each other.
“Hi,” you say kindly.
When Rafe meets your gaze, he stills for a moment, eyes almost imperceptibly widening. A couple seconds of silence pass.
“Hey,” he finally offers with a quick, tense nod.
“How was your workout?” Zach asks.
Rafe pulls a protein shake out of the fridge and swings the door closed.
“It’s so fucking busy in that gym,” Rafe replies, stepping away. He turns the corner and paces up the stairs towards his bedroom.
He and his brother have always lived in different worlds. They host parties sometimes, but that’s usually as close as their social circles overlap.
Right now, though, it’s like his aching muscles are willing him to turn around and keep talking to the pretty girl sitting in his living room. But while he’s never been good at ignoring his impulses, he’s not about to flirt with his brother’s guest, knowing how much it bothers him.
Before Rafe reaches his bedroom to get ready for a shower, he hears Zach come upstairs to stop him in the hallway.
“I’ll make sure they’re out by nine,” he says quietly. “That cool?”
Zach has always enjoyed having people over and surrounding himself with friends. But he’s aware of how much it annoys his moody brother when he just wants to chill at home. Despite how much Rafe parties and hooks up, when he wants quiet, he wants quiet.
Because Zach naturally wants to keep the peace, when they moved out of Tannyhill, he set ground rules. One of them is that they’ll check in with each other to make sure they don’t let guests overstay.
Rafe looks at his watch to see it’s nearly eight and says, “Sure. Whatever. I’m having a girl over later anyway.”
As soon as Zach left the living room, you heard one of the other soccer players, Chance, quietly make a joke about how that was the most words he’s ever heard Rafe say.
It makes Rafe all the more intriguing to you. Everyone here has some sort of history with him, albeit small and meaningless. But you’re still fairly new to the friend group. You know nothing about Rafe. For some reason, you want that to change.
Zach’s eyes meet yours when he comes back into the living room.
“Still a warm and fuzzy guy, isn’t he?” Chance says.
“Like always,” Zach quips with a shrug. And that’s that. Nobody brings up Rafe for the rest of the night.
When the hangout comes to an end about an hour later, Zach trails you all out through the front door. You bump into a girl you recognize from one of your classes.
“Hey,” she says. “I know you.”
“Hi,” you say with a laugh, holding the door open for her when you realize she’s coming into the loft.
Rafe appears behind Zach and by the way his eyes hungrily travel down her body, you quickly surmise she’s here for him.
And for some reason, it stings that she’s physically the complete opposite of you. If that’s Rafe’s type, you definitely don’t measure up.
You’re not sure why your mind is running away from you so fast. Why do you care about Rafe’s type? It’s his brother you’ve been pining over for the last month.
“How’d you do on that quiz?” she asks you.
“The grades are already up?” you reply.
“On time for once,” she laughs.
“Let’s go,” Rafe mumbles to her, his hand finding the small of her back.
You know it isn’t personal. He clearly just wants to hang out with her, not entertain any small talk. But the way he’s acting like you’re not even in the room hurts.
You say bye to Zach one last time before you follow your friends down the hallway towards the elevator. Your shoes are padding over the tiles when you hear your name half-whispered.
Zach stands with a foot out his door, beckoning you. Butterflies swirl in your stomach as you scurry back to close the distance between you. You look up at his warm eyes expectantly.
“Sorry. Don’t take it personally,” he murmurs with a gentle smile. “Rafe’s like that with everyone.”
You’re sure he’s not like that with the girl he just led upstairs. But you don’t know why you even care that much.
Zach’s the one you like. Obviously if you find him attractive, you’ll find his twin brother attractive, too. You figure your brain is just getting used to it.
You return his smile, appreciative. Stuff like this is why you like him; he cares enough to try to comfort you after his brother brushed you off.
“It’s okay,” you reply. Your friends call your name, urging you to get to the elevator before the doors close. “Thanks. I’ll see you.”
Zach watches you rush away, hoping he managed to make you feel better. He loves his brother. He understands why he is the way he is. But he doesn’t like that he made a girl who was nothing but nice to him feel bad.
As he tidies up the mess in the living room, thinking about how sweetly you had offered to help clear the table, Zach realizes that he enjoys not having housekeepers.
He never liked watching people have to clean up after him. Getting used to cleaning took some time after he and Rafe settled in here when the school year began, but now, it feels good.
Moving out was the best thing they could’ve done. Even though Zach’s only minutes older, he always felt protective of his brother, and being at home with their dad and stepmom just messed with Rafe, bringing out his self-destructive tendencies.
About an hour later, Zach’s doing schoolwork at the kitchen island when he hears the front door shut. He’s used to his brother’s habits, having random girls over, never letting them spend the night.
“She’s new,” Zach says when Rafe saunters into the kitchen.
“Yeah,” Rafe says, ducking into the fridge. “Do we have any food?”
“I saved some takeout for you.” Zach points to the container by the oven.
“Sweet.”
“What’s she like?” Zach asks.
Rafe shrugs. Thankfully, his hook-up wasn’t interested in getting to know him, either. She just wanted to be physical. Losing himself in the feeling of a girl’s legs wrapped around him, melting into emotionless pleasure, shutting his mind up, is Rafe’s comfort zone.
“She’s cool,” he mumbles. “It’s nothing serious.”
Zach watches his brother pick at his dinner at the counter, not bothering to sit down.
He never understood how he could have these meaningless hook-ups. Zach can’t imagine sharing a bed with a girl he has no connection with. Or never talking to her again after.
He shuts his laptop, pinching the bridge of his nose before he speaks.
“Hey, you think you could be a little nicer to my guests?” he asks. Rafe tenses up.
“This again?” It isn’t the first time Zach is giving him shit for how he talks to his friends.
“It makes them feel unwelcome when you act like that,” Zach replies. Rafe’s temper flares.
“Did they tell you that?” he snips.
“They don’t have to. Just… be decent, okay?”
“I am. You care too much about what people think,” Rafe mutters.
“Maybe you don’t care enough.” Zach’s lips firm into a thin line. “I don’t want to have to apologize for you.”
“Oh, come on,” he chuckles. “Who’d you have to apologize to? For what?”
Zach mentions your name and how sad you looked as you were leaving. Rafe sighs, but a hint of anxiety pricks at his skin. This happens a lot. He thinks things are fine, and then he finds out later that apparently, he was rude.
“I hope you’re at least nicer to the girls you bring over,” Zach says.
“Not every girl wants a nice guy,” he jokes with a snort. “Can we skip the lecture?”
“Dude,” he sighs in exasperation.
Rafe rolls his eyes. Zach never got that Rafe doesn’t have the ability to read people all that well, that he doesn’t know when he’s expected to tiptoe around feelings. Rafe wishes everyone was just upfront like he is.
Despite the frustration rolling through his body, he hates to lose his temper on his brother. He always regrets it after if he does. So, he relents.
“Fine. I’ll be nicer,” Rafe sighs. He thinks back to the way you looked sitting in the living room earlier tonight, your voice sweet, your smile pretty.
“She’s cute,” Rafe mumbles. “New girlfriend?”
He wonders if Rafe’s mocking him. Or maybe Zach’s just being overly sensitive. His younger brother has teased him in the past for how he’s hardly ever single for very long.
Zach does prefer to be in a relationship, to live in a promise of commitment with someone who wants to love him. But is that so bad?
They deal with their trauma in different ways. Zach runs towards comfort and connection, while Rafe would rather die than be vulnerable with a girl.
Zach would never say it, but he believes he copes much better than Rafe does. But then again, Zach is pretty sure Rafe has mental health issues that he refuses to acknowledge.
“Just a friend. Her dad’s my coach,” Zach replies flatly. “She does social media for the team. She’s off limits.”
“Off limits?” Rafe echoes. “Why? You like her?”
“No,” Zach lies on impulse. It’s not just his brother he considers you off limits to. He can’t pursue you, either. Although he wants to.
But if he admits to not wanting to date the coach’s daughter because it could end badly and leave things awkward for everybody, Rafe’ll whine about how stupid it is to be living life like that, always afraid to upset people.
They’ve had this exact conversation so many times. Zach would say that it’s not stupid to be considerate. Rafe would tell him to be selfish for once. And they’d get nowhere.
“I already told you that you can’t hook up with my friends,” Zach states.
Rafe sighs. He’s done it in the past, had flings with girls Zach befriends, then caught shit for not calling back, even though he’s always clear that he’s not looking for a relationship. Zach hates losing friends as a result of Rafe’s impulses.
“I know,” he finally says. “Relax.”
It frustrates Zach how much his brother acts like he’s high-strung. In reality, he is relaxed. Among his friends, he has a reputation for being chill and fun.
But with Rafe, he has to play this role. He’s had to since they were kids.
Zach stands, taking his laptop with him as he paces towards his bedroom. It’d be nice to talk to his brother about how much he likes you, about how excited he gets when he sees you coming to talk to him, even when it’s just to film a video.
It’s not like he can tell any of the guys on his team. As close as he is with them, he’s sure it’d spread and get back to you.
Rafe’s the only person he’d gush to, but he’d rather not listen to him whine about how Zach needs to stop giving a fuck about consequences. Because that’s who Rafe is.
“Night,” Zach says curtly.
“Hey, I’m sorry, alright? I don’t try to be a dick,” Rafe says. “You don’t want any more of this?”
Zach looks at the food.
“I’m good.”
It’s another lie. He still has an appetite, but he’d rather let someone else eat if they’re hungry. Because that’s who Zach is.
────୨ৎ────
“Whoa,” you say, scrolling through your notifications.
“What’s up?” Zach asks, leaning closer to you.
You’re sitting in a loud and overcrowded on-campus bar with your friends. It’s been a few days since you hung out at Zach’s, being pulled out of the conversation from your phone buzzing incessantly.
Zach’s chin is almost touching your shoulder as you drag your thumb over your phone screen. He smells like soap and warmth, making your heart race.
“This one video randomly blew up,” you say. “From like, two weeks ago. It has almost ten thousand likes.”
“Which one?” Chance asks, sitting across the table from you.
“The one where I asked you guys what’s on your lockscreens,” you tell them. “I’ll send the link.”
Your friends gaze at their phones around the table after you share the video in the group chat, but Zach stays in his spot, preferring to watch over your shoulder, closer than he’s ever been to you.
It’s stuff like this that makes you think he’s crushing on you, too.
“Well, that’s good, right?” Zach offers. “Makes you look good if you get us viral.”
You breathe a chuckle as you read through the comments.
“I don’t know,” you say. “You’re all kind of getting objectified.”
“What?” Kacey, Chance’s girlfriend half-shouts.
“Oh, that explains why I’m getting all these random follow requests,” Chance laughs. He looks at his girlfriend. “I’m not accepting them. Don’t worry.”
“Sunrise guy is so pure,” Roy, the goalie, reads a comment aloud in a teasing tone. “102 likes. Jesus.”
“Am I sunrise guy?” Zach mumbles to you.
You smirk, finally turning your head to meet his eyes. In the video, Zach said his lockscreen was ‘a cool picture he took of a sunrise.’
“I think you are,” you reply. Admittedly, he looked adorable in the video, just coming out of the locker room after a game, his hair messy and his skin flushed.
“Pure,” he repeats, his lips twisting. “Is that good?”
“I’d say it’s good,” you shrug.
“Sunrise guy is fine as hell,” Roy reads, laughing. “And there’s a whole thread under trying to find your Instagram.”
You swear you notice Zach blush as he shuffles to take his phone out of his pocket.
“What are they saying about you, huh, Roy?” Zach teases. “Share with the class.”
“Nobody’s saying shit about Roy,” Chance laughs, scrolling.
“Shut up,” Roy says, punching Chance’s shoulder.
Your stomach twists with unease when you see Zach open Instagram, the red message bubble mocking you.
Sure enough, a few girls dm’d him. He opens a message from a girl with a pretty profile photo.
Hiiii :) please don’t think I’m a stalker lol I just saw you on tiktok and I’m wondering how I haven’t seen you around campus?
You look away, feeling guilty for snooping. It’s a girl who goes to the same college. A girl he could very easily meet and date.
He’s not your boyfriend. You have to remind yourself that he owes you nothing. But jealousy doesn’t care if you’ve claimed someone as yours or not. It still finds a way to seep in.
You shift in your seat, pretending to continue to read comments while your heart squeezes in a vice.
────୨ৎ────
The next weekend, Zach and Rafe are hosting a party. As you get ready, you put extra time into getting pretty. You wonder if you haven’t been obvious enough.
You’ve been flirting with Zach like always, but he might think you’re just being nice, so if the air feels right tonight, you’ll try to make it more clear that you’re interested.
You arrive at the loft, trying to act unfazed when Zach pulls you in for a quick hug. He does it with everyone, though, so you’re not sure if you’re special to him at all.
Rafe notices you walk in. He’s standing just outside the kitchen, a cold beer bottle in his hand. You’re even prettier than he remembers.
Zach leads you to the kitchen where drinks are laid out on the counter, then quickly gets pulled away by the doorbell ringing again.
You pace into the bright space, gazing over the ridiculously large array of alcohol. Ever since you saw the size of this place, you’ve wondered if Zach comes from a wealthy family.
Regular college students couldn’t afford a home like this. And they wouldn’t so generously buy all the many drinks scattered atop the counter.
You meet sharp blue eyes. Rafe raises his beer bottle slightly in greeting. You offer a smile in return, your body numbing.
You notice yet another difference between them. Zach dresses like most other guys on campus, while Rafe is in a crisp button-up, a small logo stitched on the front. You know that brand isn’t cheap. Neither is his watch.
They must be well off. Zach doesn’t seem to want to show it. Rafe does.
You find a drink you can stomach, picking up the cold glass bottle and looking around for an opener.
“Apparently, I was rude to you the other day?” Rafe’s voice cuts over the music.
You look up to see him stepping a bit closer, putting his beer down on the marble with a clack and gripping a metallic bottle opener. You take his silent invitation, handing him your drink.
“You weren’t not rude,” you reply.
Rafe’s dimples cave into his cheeks when he chuckles, looking down, popping the lid off with ease. He likes that you call him out on it, instead of appeasing him.
“My bad.” His voice is husky, his words said with a drawl. He hands your drink back to you. “Zach’s always giving me shit about my manners.”
“He’s right to,” you joke.
You take a small sip from the bottle, your face pinching with a hint of distaste, and Rafe finds it ridiculously cute.
“Don’t like it?” he asks, eyes glinting.
“Just a little bitter,” you admit. You look out at the crowd, some faces familiar, some faces not.
You’re not close enough to the girl in your class, the one you saw Rafe with, to have asked her what their deal is. The curiosity has oddly been gnawing at you.
It’d be weird to mention it to her. Or to him. But you do notice that she’s not here. You take another drag from the bottle, tapping your nails against the counter to the familiar song.
Rafe can’t tear his eyes off of you, noticing the way you’re slightly mouthing the lyrics. If he wasn’t this close, he wouldn’t be able to tell.
“You know this song?” Rafe asks.
“You do, too?” you say, looking up at him again as he towers over you.
“It’s my playlist.”
“Oh,” you laugh, surprised that you have something in common with him, that you both like this fairly unknown artist. “Yeah. This whole album is good.”
Rafe nods. You try not to stare. He has a magnetizing pull that you can’t really make sense of. There’s something so naturally dominating about him, like he’s silently demanding your attention.
The night Zach mentioned your job, Rafe looked through the account you run for his soccer team. Truthfully, he wished you were in the videos instead of behind the camera, but at least he could hear your voice.
You intrigue him. There’s no way to ignore it. His brother doesn’t want him hooking up with his friends, but what’s the harm in talking?
“So, you do TikTok stuff for my brother’s team?” Rafe asks. Zach has obviously talked about you to him. You wonder what else he said.
“My job description technically says ‘content creation’,” you reply. “But I guess ‘TikTok stuff’ works.”
Rafe can’t stifle his smile. He thinks Zach’s an idiot not to like you.
Maybe he’s lying. But it’s unlike him to lie when it comes to girls. He always wears his heart on his sleeve, so much so that it confuses Rafe why, after growing up around so much instability, he’s still so open to being hurt.
“You’re not into soccer?” you ask. He shakes his head no. “Do you play something else?”
“Nah,” Rafe says. “I golf sometimes, but that’s it.”
You can’t help but breathe a chuckle. Of course a rich guy like him would play golf of all sports.
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing,” you say.
“What’s funny?” he teases, his stare penetrating.
You have to look away, heat flushing through you. Everything about him, about his appeal, is overwhelming.
“Come on,” he beckons, teasing.
“I was going to say that I’m not surprised.” Your eyes dart down to the small logo on his shirt. “You would play golf.”
Rafe’s amused. Zach never liked making it obvious that they come from money because he says it’s in ‘bad taste.’ It’s another thing about his brother that never made sense to Rafe.
“Really? Who’s being rude now?” he asks.
You look up at him with doe eyes. Right now, it’s really hard for Rafe to give a fuck about you being off limits.
“Still you,” you reply. He laughs.
It’s a surprise, the way Rafe’s not as cold as you first thought. He has a guard up and he doesn’t smile much, but he has his own type of charm.
You continue to chat with him about music and school and even your dad being the soccer coach. Zach must have mentioned that, too.
Thankfully, you’re not quite drunk yet, because if you were, you might ask him what else Zach has said about you, and that could be a giveaway of your feelings for him. And if you show interest in Zach, that would probably kill your chances with Rafe.
Uncomfortable realization pools your senses. While these men are complete contradictions of each other, unalike in so many ways, you like them. Both of them. Shit.
You down the tiny bit left of your drink, a sign of just how long you’ve been standing here talking to Rafe. Time with him has a way of slipping.
You gaze out at the party again, noticing that the living room has gotten much more crowded. And then you see Zach, sitting on the couch, beaming brightly as he talks to a girl.
Rafe catches the way your face falls. When he sees your eyes on his brother, he’s sure of it. You like him. And here you are, making conversation with him while you’re pining over Zach.
He thought you were having fun together. He felt a spark. The sting of rejection tears into him. His gut reaction is to be spiteful. To say you should just go talk to Zach if he’s boring you. Or to really make it hurt, to tell you Zach said he doesn’t like you like that.
Truthfully, as much as he loves Zach, he’s always been a little jealous of him. Everything just seems so easy for him, while every minute of Rafe’s life feels like a fight he’s losing.
Instead of hurting you, he swallows down his words with a swig of beer. Maybe all of Zach’s scolding for his lack of manners is finally working.
“Enjoy the party, yeah?” Rafe says to you. He steps away before you can reply.
Later on, you’re chatting with Kacey when you feel rhythmic buzzes in your pocket. You pull your phone out to see Zach’s name on your screen.
“Hello?” you answer.
“Finally,” he laughs. “Can you open the front door for me? I got locked out.”
A moment later, you meet Zach on the first floor, wishing your heart didn’t skip the way it does when he smiles at you through the glass door.
“I’m an idiot,” he says once you let him in. “I forgot my keys. Thanks.”
“Sure,” you laugh.
“You know, you’re the fourth person I called.” Zach puts an arm around your shoulders as you walk through the lobby. He’s never touched you like this and it’s comforting, but then again, everything about Zach is comforting. “Nobody else answered.”
By the way he’s being more affectionate than usual and slurring his words, you can tell he’s drunk.
“Why were you outside?” you ask.
“I walked someone down,” he answers. “Actually, a girl I met because of that video you posted.”
Likely the girl you saw messaging him just a few nights ago. He must have replied and liked her so much that he invited her tonight. Your heart aches.
“How’d it go?” you ask, feigning indifference.
“Good,” Zach replies. “I think she had fun.”
Of course he answers selflessly, more concerned about what she thought of him. You enter the elevator and he parts from you, pressing the button.
“Was Rafe being nice?” he asks. He obviously noticed you talking to his brother.
“He was actually telling me to leave,” you reply. Zach’s eyes widen and you laugh. “Wow, you’re gullible. I’m kidding. Yes, he was nice.”
He did leave your conversation pretty abruptly, but you’d rather not tell Zach in case he feels the need to apologize for his brother’s behavior again.
“Okay. Good.” Zach looks up at the changing numbers on the screen, smiling proudly as he leans back against the elevator wall.
His younger brother can be brash and reckless, but Zach knows it’s all because his feelings overwhelm him. He sees right through Rafe’s attempts to hide it from everyone, including himself.
Everyone thinks Zach is the emotional one. He isn’t. He doesn’t even come close to how sensitive and unstable Rafe can be.
“He’s a good guy,” he says. “I love him to death. We’ve been through a lot together and when our mom left, he…”
You look over at Zach’s profile, his lips curved into a frown.
“He took it hard and I don’t think he ever really got over any of it,” he finishes his sentence.
His inhibitions have clearly been silenced by alcohol, and you’d ask for more information if it didn’t feel like you were taking advantage of his drunken state.
The elevator dings. The doors slide open. Rafe’s standing in the hallway, holding his phone, having just caught up with Zach’s missed notifications.
“Where were you?” Zach says, mocking offense. “Do you even care that I was left out in the cold? You know I don’t like being alone.”
“Alright, come on,” Rafe says, shaking his head in disapproval as he pulls Zach forward by the shoulder. He meets your eyes for a second. “How much did you drink?”
“Relax,” Zach says, then laughs. “Wow. For once, I’m telling you that.”
The three of you walk down the hallway towards the loft. Your arms are crossed, still confused about your feelings for Rafe, still hurt that Zach doesn’t see anything worth pursuing in you.
“I love you, you know?” Zach mumbles to his brother. “I was just saying how much we’ve been through and how much I love you.”
Rafe’s body goes cold. He glares at you.
“What did he say?” he asks you, tense.
“I could barely understand him,” you fib. You don’t want to embarrass either one of them.
“You’re not gonna say you love me back?” Zach says to Rafe.
“Dude,” Rafe scoffs. “You cannot hold your booze. You’re going to bed.”
“Never,” Zach murmurs.
After everything that’s happened tonight, you feel too disoriented to be able to laugh.
Summary: Things start to feel different between them during senior year, and when she sees something she wasn’t supposed to, she begins to question if Eddie’s hiding something or if she’s just imagining it.
Part 1
𓆩❤︎𓆪
The house was too quiet.
It was the kind of silence that scratched at her skin, that made her flinch every time the floor creaked or the clock ticked too loud.
Y/N lay curled under her blanket, fully dressed, hood up. She hadn’t gone to school. Again. Robin had texted three times. She ignored them all.
The last thing she wanted was more questions she didn’t have answers to.
Because the truth was, she didn’t know anything anymore. Not about Eddie. Not about where they stood. Not even about herself.
She was exhausted. The kind of tired that went bone deep, past her chest, right down to her stomach. The kind of tired that made her feel like breathing was work.
And still, somehow, her heart found a way to twist every time her phone lit up with his name.
Eddie:
Can we talk? Please?
I miss you.
I need you.
But she didn’t answer. She couldn’t.
Not because she didn’t want to.
Because she did. And that scared her even more.
Because what if everything she thought was true was true? What if he really had fallen for someone else while she was too busy believing they were untouchable?
What if she wasn’t enough?
~
The next day, she made it to school. She looked like hell. No makeup. Eyes rimmed red. Hoodie pulled low like a shield.
She barely made it through homeroom without breaking.
And then, after second period, she saw him.
Across the yard, near the steps to the science room. Eddie.
He looked worse.
Eyes dark-circled. Hair pulled back messily. Shoulders hunched like he’d been holding in tension for days. Weeks.
He saw her instantly.
And moved.
“Y/N—”
She turned. Walked faster.
“Y/N, wait—”
He caught up, his hand barely brushing her elbow before she pulled away like she’d been burned.
“I don’t want to do this here,” she said tightly, without looking at him.
“Then where?” he breathed, chest rising fast. “You won’t answer your phone. You won’t talk to me. I—I don’t know what else to do.”
There was so much pain in his voice it almost made her stop. Almost.
But she swallowed it down. Shook her head. “You should’ve thought about that before.”
She left him standing there, alone.
~
It wasn’t until that night that she finally broke.
Not in a big, dramatic way. No shouting. No storming.
Just… a knock.
Light. Hesitant.
She opened her window expecting the wind—
Instead, it was Eddie.
Hood over his head. Rain clinging to his jacket. Eyes searching hers like they’d been looking for home.
“I didn’t know where else to go,” he said. Voice low. Small. “Please don’t make me leave without explaining.”
Y/N stared at him, heart punching behind her ribs.
A beat. Two.
She stepped back.
Let him in.
~
The silence between them stretched as he stood in the middle of her room, dripping and miserable. She sat on the edge of her bed, arms crossed over her chest.
It felt like the air was made of glass. One wrong move, and everything would shatter.
Eddie dragged a hand down his face.
“I’m not cheating on you.”
Her throat clenched. She looked away.
“I swear to god,” he said again, firmer this time. “I know it looked bad. That day in the hallway, with that girl—”
“Who is she?” she whispered.
He hesitated. “Her name’s Claire. She’s… she’s my tutor.”
Y/N blinked. “Your what?”
“I’m failing, Y/N,” he said quietly, shame creeping into his voice. “I’m on track to flunk senior year. Again.”
She stared.
“I didn’t want to tell you because…” He shook his head, pacing. “You always believed in me. You made me feel like I could actually do something with myself. And I didn’t want you to know I was still… this.” He gestured helplessly at himself.
Her chest ached.
“So I asked for help,” he continued. “I’ve been meeting with Claire a few times a week to study. She’s smart. And she didn’t care that I don’t get half of what she’s talking about.”
He paused. Rubbed the back of his neck.
“And then… a few days ago, she told me she had feelings for me.”
Y/N’s stomach dropped.
“I didn’t know what to say,” Eddie admitted. “I shut it down. Told her I had a girlfriend and I loved her and that was never going to change. I left right after.”
Silence.
“I didn’t do anything wrong, Y/N,” he whispered. “But I should’ve told you. Especially after that.”
She didn’t respond. Couldn’t.
“I didn’t want you to think I was lying,” he said. “But I was scared. And when Gareth told me to come clean, I didn’t know how. I thought I had more time.”
Y/N felt her throat tighten again. She looked at him, really looked at him and saw it all.
The circles under his eyes. The tension in his jaw. The way his fingers kept twitching like he didn’t know what to do with them.
He looked as wrecked as she felt.
“I thought you were pulling away from me,” she said finally, voice trembling. “I thought you were done.”
Eddie stepped closer.
“I was drowning,” he said softly. “And I didn’t want to drag you down with me.”
She blinked fast. “But you did. You didn’t even give me the chance to help you.”
“I know,” he whispered. “I know. I messed up.”
Y/N stood. Slowly.
“You should’ve trusted me.”
“I do,” he said. “I just… forgot how to ask for help.”
There was a long pause. The space between them felt like a wire pulled too tight.
And then she stepped forward.
And he caught her.
Arms wrapped tight around her waist, his forehead against hers. Her fingers gripped the back of his hoodie like she was afraid he’d vanish again.
They stood like that, breathing each other in. Soaked in guilt and relief.
“I missed you,” she whispered.
He pressed his lips to her temple. “I missed you more.”
They pulled back just enough to look at each other, eyes rimmed red, cheeks blotchy, lashes wet.
Both of them looked like hell.
But somehow, together, it felt like healing.
He brushed her hair behind her ear.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he said.
“You almost did.”
He swallowed. “Please don’t make me do this life without you.”
She smiled through the ache in her chest. “You’re stuck with me now, Munson.”
He kissed her. Soft and slow. Like a promise.
And for the first time in days, she felt like she could breathe again.
𓆩❤︎𓆪
Thank you all for reading part 1 Im glad you all liked it so much. Send me some of your idea for what you would want to see in the future.
Also plz give feedback on how this is as a follow-up.
